#BMD-1

[captain-price-unofficially]

Soviet video showcasing the hydropneumatic suspension on the BMD-1.

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse! Let me tell you, I’ve had this mini series outlined for months, but now I thought it was finally time to get to it. If you’re not tired of the Break Me Down world yet, I very much hope you enjoy Wake Me Up.

**As a reminder, this story is set shortly after Love Actually, and will contain references from that three-part story. 

Song Inspo: For this whole series it’s “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers. (I pretty much listened to this on repeat.)

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Starting off strong in this one: with mature themes, show level violence, angst, kidnapping, PTSD, mentions of torture (not too graphic), and character death.

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 1: “Familiar Territory”

The start of a new year continued a steady rhythm for you and Ben. Namely, another successful mission for the Supe Affairs team.

While you were patched into the team’s communications line from the safety of your desk back at the S.A. headquarters in New York, your friends were a few states over in Denver, Colorado. They’d just arrested a supe that had been committing a series of bank robberies by literally slipping away from the police, thanks to his particular superpower.

“Somebody better get this shit off of me,” M.M. groused.

He wasn’t too happy about some questionable ooze this particular supe secreted as a defense mechanism. According to Frenchie’s research, it was the same shit that certain frogs could produce to repel predators.

“Need a good hose down, more like,” said Butcher. “You smell fuckin’ foul.”

“Like Satan’s ass crack,” Ben remarked.

You couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement.

“Let’s just get the fuck outta here,” M.M. said, his tone all surly, as per usual. You didn’t envy his plight.

“Good job, guys,” you said, to change the subject. “Now it’s just a short flight back to New York.”

“No layovers this time. I’m not being paid to rot in a fucking airport with a bunch of mouth-breathing assholes and their screaming brats,” Ben said.

Charming. You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips when you imagined his taciturn face.

“Okay, your majesty. I’ll make sure it’s a nonstop flight,” you said. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

That last bit, you said with a hint of more behind your words. You drummed your nails on your desk and crossed your legs underneath it. A week was a long time for you and your boyfriend to be apart, and you’d been missing him.

“You better be,” Ben said. His voice was deep and cocky. He was smirking, you were sure, and you knew that he’d understood you perfectly well.

“Anybody else hearing this blatant foreplay?” Hughie quipped.

“I sense cheeks will be cracked tonight,” Frenchie muttered.

“Ugh!” you heard Annie shudder.

You knew she supported you and Ben, but you also knew that she didn’t want to hear about the gushy details. You laughed through your embarrassment. 

“Okay, guys. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” you said, before you officially signed off. 

You grabbed your purse that was stowed away in a desk drawer, fished out your cell phone, and you called Ben’s cell. He picked up on the second ring.

“Yeah?” he said. 

“I love you,” you said with a smile. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” he replied. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

You pouted. “Come on, say it.”

“Say what?”

You sighed. You knew he was being deliberately obtuse.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

Part of you was upset that he didn’t say it back as often as you liked. God forbid Butcher and the others hear him express his affection for you.

But you supposed you understood that any kind of vulnerability was difficult for him, especially in front of others. As much shit as you gave him, you also knew how to pick your battles with Ben.

“I told you. I’ll see you soon,” he said.

You once again tapped your nails, on your armrest this time. After a moment, you relented.

“Okay, baby. Have a safe flight,” you said, even if you were still frowning.

When Ben hung up with you, he let out a deep sigh.

An entire week with these juvenile cocksuckers was almost too much for him to fucking take. While he often felt your presence with you on the comm line during the actual mission, and the occasional phone call on long nights in between, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.

He was ready to go home.

The flight itself was fine, though dealing with civilians and the tiring experience of a long-ass flight made him even more antsy to land. Because even when they got to JFK, he still had a hired car waiting for him to drive him from the airport to get to Scarsdale, and to the apartment he shared with you. It had already been almost a year of you two living there, in a three-bedroom spanning two floors.

Ben hadn’t thought he would get used to such a small place, but it was all right. It had become his home, far more than the penthouses and party mansions ever were, at least.

When he finally got home and unlocked the front door of the apartment, he stepped into darkness. All the lights were off.

Odd, he thought. He called your name while he shut the door behind him, then flicked on the foyer light. He realized then that he hadn’t seen your car in the driveway. Were you still working? It wasn’t unlike you to get caught up with the paperwork and other logistics after a case.

After a quick look around of each room, from the kitchen to the living room, Ben knew you hadn’t come home yet. A frown marred his face.

He went upstairs and entered the bedroom next. He unclipped his wrist guards and took his gloves off first, followed by loosening the collar of his supe suit. The bed was made, untouched since this morning, he was sure.

Then he noticed the scrap of paper resting on his pillow. He picked it up, and his brows furrowed as he read.

By the time you find me, she’ll wish she was dead.

Ben called Grace Mallory first.

When she didn’t answer, he called Butcher next. Ben’s hand shook the slightest bit while holding the phone up to his ear.

“Evenin’, guv,” Butcher answered with a tired sigh. “What’s this about—”

“We have a fucking problem,” Ben growled.

Ben pushed the limits of his Mercedes Benz while driving himself to Supe Affairs.

The others met him there in a conference room, except for Grace, who was on an active case at the moment. There Hughie and Frenchie tapped into the S.A. security footage on their laptops. 

They eventually found you getting into your car in the S.A. garage, about four hours ago. Then two later, the street cameras picked you up somewhere in the Village. Ben recognized the street. 

You probably had dinner with your friend Yvette and her family, but you intended to make it home on time to meet Ben when you left around 9:00 p.m. 

You had parallel parked at a meter on the street. According to the footage, it looked quiet and empty when you headed back to your car. 

You were stopped by someone before you could get the driver’s side door open. It looked like a man’s height and build; he grabbed you by the shoulder and threw a punch you managed to dodge.

You put up a good fight, but you were eventually knocked out with what looked to be a crowbar, at first glance. When Hughie zoomed in, it was actually a black baton. Ben watched it all with a deepening frown. Anger churned in his gut and ignited his blood as he watched your unconscious body being hauled into a black SUV.

“That looks military-issued,” M.M. said, pointing at the baton that the suspect used to hit you.

Butcher nodded, and also noted the man’s fighting style. “That’s a professional.”

“He would have to be, to take her out,” M.M. said, glancing at Ben. “And the timing. They knew you were coming home. That note was personal, besides the fact that they were casing your place…they’ve probably been watching both of you, waiting for the chance to get the jump on you.”

“The question,” Butcher said, “is who the fuck would wanna tangle with Soldier Boy that badly?”   

“Shit. That’s a laundry list, isn’t it?” Hughie said. M.M.’s glance told him to shut the fuck up.

Ben was silent, but his fury was mounting. His head turned sharply to Butcher.

“Get Mallory on the line. Now,” he barked. When no one moved quick enough for him, his temper snapped at its thinly held leash.

“I said right fucking now!”

Slowly you blinked your eyes open. For a moment, you were seeing in double vision. It soon cleared up to reveal dark, damp, musty surroundings.

It smelled familiar; after that mission to find and subdue Sapphire a couple of months ago, you’d recognize a New York sewer anywhere.

Fuuucking shit, you thought with a groan. Your head was aching. You felt a trickle of blood down the side of your neck, and you found yourself in a familiar position—seated on a metal chair with your hands secured behind your back. Your restraints felt like zip ties.

“You finally with us, sweetheart?” asked a man. His voice was smooth and commanding.

“Jackson, I don’t know about this,” whispered someone else. Another man, though he sounded slightly younger, reminding you of Hughie.

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” Jackson snapped.

At least you had a name. He stepped into the light that came from a couple of small lanterns. One was propped on top of a bucket by the wall. The other was on a plastic fold out table that you saw a few feet beside you.

The man who stepped into your line of vision was tall, maybe around Ben’s height, if just shy of his build. He was blonde, just like his skinnier friend. They shared some notable facial features and coloring, but while Jackson’s eyes were dark brown and self-assured, the younger man’s were blue and apprehensive. If you had to guess, they looked like brothers.

“Nice digs,” you remarked, gesturing with your gaze at your surroundings.

Jackson rose a brow, crossing his arms.

“You’re taking all this pretty well,” he said. 

You huffed humorlessly.

“This isn’t exactly my first kidnapping,” you said.

He quirked his head and drew closer.   

“All right. Well, since we’re on the clock, let me tell you why you’re here,” he said. He bent down in front of you so that his face was level with yours. “I need you, sweetheart. You’re going to tell me how to bring down Soldier Boy. How to kill him. How to end him. Then maybe, I’ll let you go without gouging out those pretty eyes.”

You stared back at Jackson with an expression that didn’t change.

Then you spat in his face.

And you expected the hard, back-handed slap that made your head whip to the side. It rattled you for a moment as you caught your breath, but you recovered enough to lean back in your seat. Your eyes met Jackson’s directly after he wiped his face with his shirt. “Tommy” stood off to the side behind his partner. He’d looked away when you were hit.

You focused on the other man, Jackson. He was wearing black cargo pants to match his boots, and a belt with a gun on his hip. He carried himself like a trained killer.

“Military, government agency, or private sector?” you asked.

His head tilted. He studied you, just like you were studying him.

“None of the above really,” he said. “Not anymore.”

He walked over to the fold out table, where he grabbed a black bag and unzipped it. A flash of silver gleamed as he pulled out one sharp instrument after the next. You had to hide your apprehension, and fear that made your insides tremble.

He glanced over at you.

“Let’s get started,” he said.

Hours later, you were teetering on the edge of consciousness.

After the last hit, you spat a wad of phlegm and blood onto Jackson’s shoes. He rotated the ache out of his hand. He looked down at you through furrowed brows.

“Damn, bitch,” he said, catching his breath. “You can take a hit. I’ll give you that.” 

“My dad was a Marine, numb nuts,” you managed to reply, through labored breaths. “He used to hit harder with his open hand than all the strength in that limp-dick wrist of yours.” 

Jackson smirked. “Christ. Daddy issues, huh? Why doesn’t that surprise me.” 

You gave him a droll look. Again, to cover your fear, because you weren’t willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

Angered and frustrated by that defiance, he reached down and grabbed your neck and jaw with one hand. You winced at the force of his grip, but when he started squeezing, this was the one thing that made you truly whimper. You tried not to think about the ghost of your father’s hand around your neck.

“Don’t you get it, asshole?” you gritted out while struggling for breath. “You can’t kill him. No one can. Stronger, smarter people than you have tried.” 

Moments ticked by while Jackson contemplated your words. 

Then he released you. You sucked in gulps of air and tried not to cough out a lung.

“Maybe,” he said. “But Soldier Boy’s got a weakness. If anyone knows it, I’ve got a feeling it’s you.” 

You can’t say anything. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 

That had been your mantra for every minute you had spent in this hole. You shook your head.

“Look, Jackson.” You sucked in another breath to steady yourself, and blink a drip of blood out of your eyes. “He’s going to kill you. You and your brother. Take your family and run, while you’ve still got a chance.” 

“…You know what? You’re probably right,” Jackson said, scratching the back of his head with his crimson-stained hand. “But I just realized something.”

He leaned down again, until he was level with your face.

“When he finds you, drowned in your own goddamn blood…I think the look on his face might just be enough for me.”

Your eyes widened. 

It took days. Three painful days to pick up the threads, which led closer to home than anyone could’ve anticipated. 

Grace Mallory put pressure across the chain of command, and even reached out to the FBI for assistance. An alert email finally came to her phone, and she realized that an agent on her own payroll had been flagged for never reporting back for his debriefing on a reconnaissance mission.

That agent was Jackson Rawlins.

The further she read into his file, the worse her frown became. She immediately sent the lead to Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team to run down. For the first time in years, Grace actually prayed.

She prayed that they would reach you in time. It wasn’t until then that she realized it; she hadn’t thought of you as a cog in her system for some time now—not even as leverage against Soldier Boy. She was genuinely concerned about you.

Grace worried that she was setting herself up for disappointment…if it was too late. However, she also worried about what would happen if you didn’t survive. She considered how Ben might react, with that nuclear power within him that he was still learning to control. The consequences of this mission could very well be catastrophic. 

You were losing track of time in this windowless pit. You knew it had been days, but you didn’t remember how many. The cellar was cold, and the way sound and air traveled, it felt like you were underground. It certainly smelled like it—damp and gross. It made you certain this was a sewer.

Now this is Satan’s ass crack, you thought. You winced at the pain that radiated…pretty much everywhere. Blood had dried from various lacerations across your face, neck, chest, and arms, and bruises were dark against your skin.

Your blouse was in tatters, and your jeans had bleeding rips as well, though at least he’d kept your ankle boots on. You were too weak even for hunger. And a large, heavy chain attached to manacles on your wrists had replaced the zip ties. One end of the chain was fastened between the wall and a line of plumbing.

Footsteps echoed down the hall behind you. You closed your eyes and steeled yourself.

“Are we actually gonna have a conversation today?” Jackson asked.

“Depends,” you replied, your voice dry and coarse. “Are you going to tell me why you hate Ben so much?”

An angry sigh escaped Jackson’s lips. He pointed up in frustration.

“Ben.” Jackson rolled and cracked his neck, like just the mention of your boyfriend’s real name was disgusting to this man.

“You talk about him like he’s a real fucking person. Not like the animal supe he is,” he said.

“He is a person,” you said, both in exhaustion, and in pain. “And he’s trying to be better. Look, he’s done terrible things. I’m not saying he hasn’t. I don’t know what he’s done to you in the past, but—”

Jackson shut you up with a sharp backhand. It made black spots encroach on your vision as you caught your breath.

You noticed his brother Tom come in the room as well, to watch and worry. He didn’t seem comfortable with this way of things. He looked like a civilian. Maybe you could use that to your advantage…

But you lost track of thought after that, when Jackson started in on you with either his hands, or the creativity of the instruments on the table nearby. 

You tried to block out the pain, along with his questions about Ben. If you couldn’t talk about him, you couldn’t let yourself think about him. So you couldn’t say anything.

Not about the Novichok nerve agent, one of the few things that had been found to incapacitate him. Not his imprisonment by Vought or the S.A.—nothing that your captor could one day use against Ben.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

Even though all you wanted right now was him. 

Ben, please…

You zoned in and out of consciousness from there.

When you next registered being awake, mercifully, you were left alone. You raised your head when Tom came to blot at least some of your wounds and give you water. You’d only eaten small pieces of protein bars for days. 

“I’m sorry,” Tom whispered.

“Why does he want Ben?” you wheezed. “Why are you going along with this if you’re so damn sorry?”

Tom looked up at you with pain and grief in his blue eyes. He sighed and dragged a nearby chair from the table. He sat beside you while he fed you half a protein bar. It was a struggle to even get the pieces down.

“Last year,” said Tom, clearing his throat. “I lived in the building that Soldier Boy blew up when he got back from…wherever the Russians had him.”

Your eyes widened as you processed that. “You…but you made it out. Why—”

“I wasn’t home. I was at work,” Tom said. His voice was pained as his eyes became red and glassy. “Our mom wasn’t so lucky.”

You sighed, closing your eyes.

“She was retired, and I was taking care of her,” Tom said. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed. “Jackson wasn’t here. He was on a mission in Colombia. Told me he was cleaning up some cartel shit.”

At that, you had a sneaking suspicion that coiled in your gut. Ben had left a bit of a mess when he peaced out of Colombia, with an entire plane filled with drugs and weapons from whatever cartel he’d infiltrated. (In his words, he’d cut the head off the snake.)

Grace told you she’d sent a team in to handle that mess…

“Your brother—who does he work for?” you asked. Though you had a feeling you knew the answer.

Tom seemed to read your understanding, and his face turned grim.

“The CIA,” he said.

Fuck, you grimaced. So not only had Ben been responsible for their mother’s death, but Jackson had been part of the team that cleaned up his mess in South America. It explained why Jackson was somehow able to find your information; Supe Affairs had become a subsect of the CIA, thanks to Grace. 

“I didn’t know he was planning this. I swear to God. All he said was that he had a way to get at Soldier Boy,” Tom said. You let out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I really am,” you said. Tears welled up hot in your eyes. “But you need to let me go. For your own safety, believe me.”

You saw the guilt, the sadness, the regret on Tom’s face. The brief indecision was overtaken when he glanced down the hall. You knew then that he was more afraid of his own brother than he was willing to do the right thing.

Your tears spilled over, though you tried to breathe through it. You’d tried to save them for when you were alone, those seldom few, cold hours, but you were reaching your breaking point.

“Okay, before I go, do you have to use the bathroom?” Tom asked. There was a bucket in the corner, and Jackson preferred it away from the chair. It was the only time Tom was allowed to unchain you from the wall and let you stretch your legs.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, you nodded in agreement. It was humiliating to know you were going to have to do this yet again, in a bucket, with company. With the manacles still on your wrists, he brought you over to the “special” corner.

Tom sighed and looked away to give you some semblance of privacy.

That was when you used every scrap of energy you had left in you.

You grabbed the chain and yanked it out of his hands long enough to wrap it around his neck from behind. You cut off his sounds of strain and kicked out his knees, so he was forced to kneel on the ground.

You wrapped the rest of the chain around your thigh, giving you the leverage you needed to tighten your grip and choke him out, until he was unconscious. His body fell to the side, and you heaved for breath. Once again, there were black spots in your vision, but you did your best to blink them away.

Now set with determination, you made your way to the plastic table and searched for the key to your chains. After the manacles were unlocked, you rubbed at your raw wrists and rapidly scanned the room. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you calculated which way you should go to try and escape.

There were three possibilities in this clearing under the sewer: left, right, or straight ahead. Every time Tom or Jackson emerged, it sounded like it was behind you. The chair was facing to the east, which meant you had to take the left tunnel.

You ran in that direction and tried to find a metal ladder that would take you to whatever manhole cover these guys had detached. Someone couldn’t just open up any of those iron plates without the right tools, from the inside or the outside.

You walked as fast as you could manage, even though your entire body protested in pain. Then finally, you saw a black duffel bag lying on the ground, against the wall. Next to it was a metal ladder that went all the way up to the top.

“Jackson, don’t!”

You heard Tom’s voice, but you felt the presence behind you too late. Jackson hit you in the back of the head with that damn baton, so hard that even he grimaced at how the sound echoed on the walls. You crumpled to the ground.

Jackson stood over you with a grim set to his face. He turned to his brother with a shake of his head.

“She’s a walking welt, and you couldn’t handle her?” he said.

“This is too much,” Tom said in worry. He bent down and held two fingers to your neck. He still felt a pulse, at least, but when he felt behind your head, he found blood. His hand shook as he stared at it.

“If you didn’t want in on this, you should’ve said so from the beginning,” said Jackson. He spun the baton in his hand and clipped the hilt to his belt, from a small metal loop on the end of it.

“You didn’t say anything about…about this!” Tom argued. He cleaned your blood off on his jacket.

Jackson regarded his brother with disappointment, and he hefted you up into his arms. Tom followed him back to their setup with your makeshift prison. There Jackson left you lying on the ground, and chained you back up by your wrists for good measure. He then literally and figuratively wiped his hands of you.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” he said. “For good this time.”

Tom looked at you, then his brother in shock. There was even emotion in his eyes.   

“We’re leaving her to die,” he said, his voice unsteady. He knew then, that their mother wouldn't have wanted this in her name. If she saw both of them now, she wouldn't recognize them.

Jackson grabbed his younger brother where his neck met his shoulder. An iron grip.

“And what do you think Soldier Boy is going to do if he finds us?” Jackson asked. His gaze encouraged Tom to explore that reality for a moment.

Jackson nodded at your unconscious form. “Trust me, that bitch was never going to talk. But this is almost better.”

It wasn’t right, Tom thought. He knew it, deep in his heart, but he wasn’t strong like his brother, or even like you.

That was when they heard it. The rumble of engines dying and tires rolling overhead, dislodging a few stray pebbles and dust from the ceiling. Jackson’s eyes widened. 

“Fuck!” he muttered. “All right, let’s go.”

Jackson forced his younger brother to leave the sewer with him, and leave you chained up on the floor.

Ben, Butcher, M.M., and Frenchie had done much of the legwork in tracking down Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom (with help from Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie of course). Frenchie had found your likely location with a powerful thermal scanner, courtesy of Grace.

Now, they’d driven up to the wide alley in the city and blocked off all the exits on the block. Ben was the first to get his boots on the ground and stride toward the point of entry, where according to Frenchie’s scanners, more than one body was holed up in the sewer. He held his shield at his side and at the ready when the manhole cover loosened, and slid open.

A small gas bomb rolled out towards his feet, but it was just tear gas, not the kind of thing that could actually affect him. Ben picked up the little round ball of metal and crushed it in his hand. While the rest of the team dove for the oxygen masks stored in the car, Ben stalked forward.

Seeing the silhouette of a man, Ben threw his shield hard enough to rattle a supe.

Jackson Rawlins was thrown clean onto his back with a force that stole the breath from his lungs, even through his gas mask. It also broke half a dozen ribs. Ben was soon bearing on top of him and ripping off the mask.

Jackson cried out as remnants of the tear gas seared his eyes.

“Got us a runner!” Butcher shouted. He intercepted and grabbed up a second man who tried to escape. Tom Rawlins wasn’t the threat, but he still wasn’t going free. M.M. and Frenchie also dove down into the sewer to try and find you after they got their gas masks on.

Meanwhile, Ben hauled Jackson up by his neck and walked him back until he hit the brick wall beside a nail salon. Jackson grunted in pain. Every breath he took was now agonizing, thanks to his now battered and broken ribs.

“Where is she?” Ben demanded.

Jackson actually laughed in his face, despite his now bloodshot eyes.

“All you fucking supes are the same,” he said. “But you…you’re the worst. Quite literally, the original asshole. And what does the government do? What does the world do? Gives you a pass on decades of indiscretions, fuck ups, and straight up murder.” 

Ben didn’t outwardly react, but he knew what Jackson’s problem was. He knew he killed the man’s family. Collateral damage—something that had caused Ben more than one argument with you in the past.

But he didn’t care.

He didn’t care, because all he could see in his mind’s eye was a metal bat hitting the back of your head and knocking you clean out. He saw you being taken against your will. Taken from him. And that, he couldn’t abide.

“Where. Is she?” Ben said, as his grip flexed around the other man’s neck. It would be easy. Easier than snapping a toothpick. And he warned, “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself.”

“Dead, probably,” Jackson spat, despite his red and bleary eyes. “Real tough bitch. I see why you’re fucking her…I had me a little taste myself.”

In that moment, Ben couldn’t compute.

His green eyes widened. His breath stilled.

Then his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth were grinding. A fire in his blood and behind his eyes, and fury that burned hot in his chest, almost giving it that nuclear glow.

His hand tightened and choked any salacious words Jackson might’ve spewed out next.

“He didn’t!” Tom shouted out. He was being restrained by Butcher. Ben glanced at them out of the corner of his eye.  

“He didn’t touch her. Not like that,” Tom said. He looked sincere.  

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” said his older brother. 

It earned Ben’s attention back. Jackson had the look of a man who knew he was going to die either way.

Ben’s lips curled into a sneer. He took the man’s head with both hands, and slowly crushed his skull. The scream echoed between Ben’s ears, but he was only satisfied when Jackson’s lifeless body dropped at his feet.

He turned to the other Rawlins next.

Tom had screamed as well to watch his brother’s life ended before his eyes. He now stared straight into Soldier Boy’s, pleading wordlessly for his own life. Ben started toward him.

“Please,” Tom said. He tried twisting away from Butcher, who held firm to the man’s arm. The Brit knew all too well, the rage that Ben had in his blood.

“Ben,” Annie tried, and she even stepped forward. Butcher held a hand out against her with a knowing look. It wouldn’t be wise to stand in the way.

“Hey!” M.M. shouted up from down the open hatch of the sewer. “We found her! Need help getting her loose.”

Ben paused in his steps. Tom was shaking, lips trembling, petrified.

Tilting his head, Ben let out a subtle breath through his nose. He began to turn back toward the sewer.

At the last moment, however, he drew his gun and shot Tom Rawlins between the eyes. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Annie and Hughie flinched, but Butcher and Kimiko weren’t surprised in the least.

Meanwhile, Ben made his way back towards M.M.’s voice, and into the sewer. He heard M.M. and Frenchie arguing about first aid and head wounds, the further in he went. Ben’s dark mood blackened even more along the way.

Once he reached them, he also reached you, held in M.M.’s arms as he cradled your head.

You were unconscious with your wrists locked into heavy chains. The furrow between Ben’s brows deepened, but he got down to his knees beside you and first, broke your chains. He guided you out of M.M.’s arms and into his own, making sure to support your head. Blood was already staining his half-glove and fingers.

It was then that he noticed the small crimson pool lying where your body had been, likely from the wound he could feel at the back of your head. Ben’s mouth trembled the slightest bit, mostly in anger as he drew himself back onto his feet. Your body was littered with bruises, cuts both shallow and deep made by what looked like a blade, and God knew what else.

“I had me a little taste myself,” Jackson had taunted.

No, Ben internally shook that thought from his mind. No, you hadn’t been touched like that, at least, according to the sniveling, cock-sucking brother.

But can you trust that little cunt’s word?

Ben briefly closed his eyes, pressing his lips to your forehead. He continued walking down the hall and towards the light and fresh air of the world above.

You’re gonna be just fine, he promised you, if just within the safety of his mind.

Yeah, you would be all right.

He was going to make sure of it.

AN: 🫣 I'm sorry...BUT, I can promise it will get better (eventually). First, it's going to get worse.

Next Time:

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well trimmed.

His head soon raised, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[defencecapital]

India joins ‘Super Elite Club’ with warship-launched ballistic missile interceptor capable of thwarting China, Pakistan nuke threats

N. C. Bipindra for EurAsian Times New Delhi: India entered an elite club of nations that possess the capability to fire a Ballistic Missile Defence (BMD) interceptor from a naval platform when it successfully carried out the maiden test of the weapon system yesterday. The announcement of the successful test was made today through a statement from the Ministry of Defence (Mod). However, further…

[aswar-hafida-official]

SORE 1 OLARAGA CAMMING FC 1 0 BBM SELATAN

[dailypersonamodding]

Saturday, April 15th, 2023

[ Sorry for the prolonged absence! Life got complicated for both of the admins and for the time being you'll need to deal with me! ]

ANYWAY, Goro Akechi Time

So, as is considered nearly common knowledge by now, data present in P5 and P5R points to the existence of a scrapped Akechi Palace for our ✨lovely pancake boy✨, but how much is known about it *really?* Here's a data breakdown of the scraps left over!

Every field in Persona 5 has a Major and Minor Field ID, and the game is programmed to assume Major ID's between 150 and 200 are Palaces. The final game uses IDs 150 to 162 for each Palace like so:

f150 - Prologue [ Casino Duplicate ]

f151 - Castle Pt.1

f152 - Castle Pt.2

f153 - Museum

f154 - Bank

f155 - Pyramid

f156 - Moon Base

f157 - Casino

f159 - Cruiseship

f160 - Holy Grail Path

f161 - Mementos Depths

f162 - Labratory

As you can see, there are missing Fields between 157 and 159, but how can we prove this is Akechi? We look at the dialogue for negotiating with Shadows!

When knocked down, Shadows occasionally mention whatever Palace Ruler is currently active. This data is stored in BATTLE\TALK in various .BF ( Binary Flowscript ) files that are run based on the enemy type.

Inside the BMD ( Binary Message Data ) chunk of these files, there's some unused dialogue:

Flee while you still can! Ahahaha! It is futile to oppose Lord Akechi! You would do well to tread carefully. Lord Akechi is a man possessed of immense desire. Hmph… I wonder if your power would even pose a threat to Lord Akechi… I give up… *sob* Lord Akechiii…

There are 27 lines in total from Shadows referencing "Lord Akechi", all of them localized! Normally, this is where most investigation ends. There was a planned Akechi Palace between Sae and Shido, but all data was scrapped and any attempts to load into the Palace by force fail due to an intense scrub of all related data.

( Generally this is a sign things are not going well )

This, however is not the end of things just yet—Atlus was not entirely diligent in the data wipe. One of the things left behind is a single .ENV ( Environment ) file. These files—among many other things—specify properties like texture color, color grading, light effects and so on for every field.

ENV\ENV0158_001_000.ENV is found in this folder, corresponding to the missing 158 Palace ID. However, since there's no meshes left over, we can only see ENV 158's effects by placing it on another field. Here is the front hall of the Bank Palace as seen in-game normally:

Here is what Akechi's Palace would have looked like, at least the ambiance, had development continued:

( I'm sure someone can make some kind of argument about how this represents Akechi thematically, lord knows I can. )

One other aspect still remaining is found in FIELD\FTD\FLDDNGPACK.FTD, a list that specifies what encounters can be found in any Palace, along with loot in Chests and Search Objects. Akechi's DNGPACK List is not entirely empty!

We can see by parsing this file that Akechi's Palace would have had around 21 different Fields, about the standard for every Palace in P5R, though this excludes Safe Rooms. While the Encounter Entries sadly lead only to default Kamoshida Castle battles, his list references a unique Random Loot Table 7! At the time of writing, it appears no other part of the game references Random Loot Table 7. While it lacks unique items found in other Palaces, the data is indicative of what could've been found inside Akechi's Palace Search Objects.

Jades and Garnets are placed at surprisingly high priority, along with the Marble Chessboard. Of note are the items such as the Marble Chessboard and Brass Pocket Watch, those specific Item IDs cannot be found in any other location in the ENTIRE Random Loot Table .FTD file.

Until more info about how Palaces function is uncovered, it seems like our Detective Prince will continue to elude us in his heavily fog-covered ways, this subject clearly needs more research to find any more remnants!

That’s all for now, see you soon!

[selfmaderibcageman]

The BMD-1's armour is made of ABT-101 an alloy composed of 91% Aluminum, 6% Zinc, and 3% Magnesium. The BMD-2 on the other hand is composed of ABT-102, which is 94% Aluminum, 4% Zinc, and 2% Magnesium.

"armor"

[homoeroticgrappling]

Alpha-1 starts in just over an hour and a half, there's a whole bunch on the card including a Danhausen match and it's free to watch on YouTube!

Alpha Male Title: Rickey Shane Page vs BMD

Zero Gravity Title: Kody Lane vs Dahausen

Casket Match: Space Monkey vs Shane Sabre

Street Fight: Jody Threat vs Laynie Luck

Ace Austin vs Alec Price

Tag Team Title Match: Fight or Flight vs KPK

Outer Limits Title Match: Derek Dillinger vs Josh Bishop vs Warhorse vs Vinnie Pacifico vs Bryce Hansen vs Jose The Assassin

[er-cryptid]

Skeletal System Orthopedics Abbreviations

AKA = above the knee amputation

anti-CCP = anti-cyclic citrullinated peptide

AP = anteroposterior

BKA = below the knee amputation

BMD = bone mineral density

C1 = cervical vertebra 1

C2 = cervical vertebra 2

C3 = cervical vertebra 3

C4 = cervical vertebra 4

C5 = cervical vertebra 5

C6 = cervical vertebra 6

C7 = cervical vertebra 7

Ca = calcium

Ca²⁺ = calcium ion

CDH = congenital dislocation of the hip

DEXA = dual-energy x-ray absorptiometry

DXA = dual-energy x-ray absorptiometry

DIP = distal interphalangeal joint

DJD = degenerative joint disease

ESWT = extracorporeal shock wave therapy

Fx = fracture

L1 = lumbar vertebra 1

L2 = lumbar vertebra 2

L3 = lumbar vertebra 3

L4 = lumbar vertebra 4

L5 = lumbar vertebra 5

LLE = left lower extremity

LUE = left upper extremity

MCP = metacarpophalangeal joint

NSAID = nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug

OA = osteoarthritis

ORIF = open reduction and internal fixation

ortho = orthopedics

P = phosphorus

PIP = proximal interphalangeal joint

PT = physical therapy

QCT = quantitative computerized tomography

RA = rheumatoid arthritis

RF = rheumatoid factor

RLE = right lower extremity

ROM = range of motion

RUE = right upper extremity

S1 = first sacral vertebra

T1 = thoracic vertebra 1

T2 = thoracic vertebra 2

T3 = thoracic vertebra 3

T4 = thoracic vertebra 4

T5 = thoracic vertebra 5

T6 = thoracic vertebra 6

T7 = thoracic vertebra 7

T8 = thoracic vertebra 8

T9 = thoracic vertebra 9

T10 = thoracic vertebra 10

T11 = thoracic vertebra 11

T12 = thoracic vertebra 12

THR = total hip replacement

tib-fib = tibia-fibula

.

Patreon

[awesome-casuallyfamouscollector]

Good morning: Recently destroyed Russian T-80BV, T-72B3, and 1 unknown tank; and, in next four pictures - Russian T-80 main battle tank, MT-LBVM/K armoured personnel carrier, another MT-LB and BMD-2 airborne infantry fighting vehicle, Ukraine, July, 2023. Source: Naalsio26

P.S. Photos of recent battles that the pro-Kremlin and "peace-loving" clickbait media will not show you....! The Ukrainian army, using rather limited resources and not the most modern weapons, is successfully waging war against the army of Russian war criminals... The Russians continue to suffer quite significant losses...

[gladioshocktrooper]

US Troops riding captured BMD-1 airborne IFV, Iraq, 2003

[bidirectionalbci]

The science of a Bidirectional Brain Computer Interface with a function to work from a distance is mistakenly reinvented by laymen as the folklore of Remote Neural Monitoring and Controlling

Critical thinking

How good is your information when you call it RNM? It’s very bad. Is your information empirically validated when you call it RNM? No, it’s not empirically validated.

History of the RNM folklore

In 1992, a layman Mr. John St. Clair Akwei tried to explain a Bidirectional Brain Computer Interface (BCI) technology, which he didn't really understand. He called his theory Remote Neural Monitoring. Instead of using the scientific method, Akwei came up with his idea based on water. Lacking solid evidence, he presented his theory as if it were fact. Without any real studies to back him up, Akwei twisted facts, projected his views, and blamed the NSA. He lost his court case and was sadistically disabled by medical practitioners using disabling pills. They only call him something he is not. Since then, his theory has gained many followers. Akwei's explanation is incorrect and shallow, preventing proper problem-solving. As a result, people waste life-time searching for a true scientific explanation that can help solve this issue. When you call it RNM, the same will be done to you as to Mr. Akwei (calling you something you are not and sadistically disabling you with pills).

Critical thinking

Where does good research-based information come from? It comes from a university or from an R&D lab.

State of the art in Bidirectional BCI

Science-based explanation using Carnegie Mellon University Based on the definition of BCI (link to a scientific paper included), it’s a Bidirectional Brain Computer Interface for having a computer interact with the brain, and it’s extended only with 1 new function to work from a distance.

It’s the non-invasive BCI type, not an implanted BCI. The software running on the computer is a sense and respond system. It has a command/function that weaponizes the device for a clandestine sabotage against any person. It’s not from Tesla, it’s from an R&D lab of some secret service that needs it to do surveillance, sabotages and assassinations with a plausible deniability.

You need good quality information that is empirically validated, and such information comes from a university or from an R&D lab of some large organization. It won’t come from your own explanations because you are not empirically validating them which means you aren’t using the scientific method to discover new knowledge (it’s called basic research).

Goal: Detect a Bidirectional BCI extended to work from a distance (it’s called applied research, solving a problem using existing good quality information that is empirically validated)

Strategy: Continuous improvement of Knowledge Management (knowledge transfer/sharing/utilization from university courses to the community) to come up with hypotheses + experimentation with Muse2 to test your hypotheses and share when they are proved).

This strategy can use existing options as hypotheses which is then an applied research. Or, it can come up with new, original hypotheses and discover new knowledge by testing them (which is basic research). It can combine both as needed.

Carnegie Mellon University courses from Biomedical Engineering (BME)

Basics (recommended - make sure you read):

42665 | Brain-Computer Interface: Principles and Applications:

Intermediate stuff (optional - some labs to practice):

2. 42783 | Neural Engineering laboratory - Neural engineering involves the practice of using tools we use to measure and manipulate neural activity: https://www.coursicle.com/cmu/courses/BMD/42783/

Expert stuff (only if you want to know the underlying physics behind BCI):

3. 18612 | Neural Technology: Sensing and Stimulation (this is the physics of brain cells, explaining how they can be read from and written into) https://www.andrew.cmu.edu/user/skkelly/18819e/18819E_Syllabus_F12.pdf

You have to read those books to facilitate knowledge transfer from the university to you.

With the above good quality knowledge that is empirically validated, the Bidirectional BCI can be likely detected (meaning proved) and in the process, new knowledge about it can be discovered.

Purchase a cheap unidirectional BCI device for experiments at home

Utilize all newly gained knowledge from the above books in practice to make educated guesses based on the books and then empirically validate them with Muse2. After it is validated, share your good quality, empirically validated information about the undisclosed Bidirectional BCI with the community (incl. the steps to validate it).

Python Project

Someone who knows Python should try to train an AI model to detect when what you hear is not from your ear drums. Here is my initial code: https://github.com/michaloblastni/insultdetector You can try this and send me your findings and improvements.

How to do research

Basic research makes progress by doing a literature review regarding a phenomenon, then identifying main explanatory theories, making new hypotheses and conducting experiments to find what happens. When new hypotheses are proved the existing knowledge is extended. New findings can be contributed back to extend existing theories.

In practice, you will review existing scientific theories that explain i.e. the biophysics behind sensing and stimulating brain activity, and you will try to extend those theories by coming up with new hypotheses and experimentally validating them. And then, you will repeat the cycle to discover more new knowledge. When it's a lot of iterations, you need a team.

In applied research, you start with a problem that needs solving. You do a literature review and study previous solutions to the problem. Then, you should synthesize a new solution from the existing ones, and it should involve extending them in a meaningful way. Your new solution should solve the problem in some measurably better way. You have to demonstrate what your novel solution does better i.e. by measuring it, or by proving it with some other way.

In practice, you will do a literature review of past designs of Bidirectional BCI and make them your design options. Then, you will synthesize a new design option from all the design options you reviewed. The new design will get you closer toward making a Bidirectional BCI work from a distance. Then, you will repeat the cycle to improve upon your design further until you eventually reach the goal. When it's a lot of iterations, you need a team.

Using a Bidirectional BCI device to achieve synthetic telepathy

How to approach learning, researching and life

At the core, the brain is a biological neural network. You make your own connections in it stronger when you repeatedly think of something (i.e. while watching an expert researcher on youtube). And your connections weaken and disconnect/reconnect/etc. when you stop thinking of something (i.e. you stop watching an expert on how to research and you start watching negative news instead).

You train yourself by watching/listening/hanging out with people, and by reading about/writing about/listening about/doing certain tasks, and also by other means.

The brain has a very limited way of functioning because when you stop repeatedly thinking of something it soon starts disappearing. Some people call it knowledge evaporation. It’s the disconnecting and reconnecting of neurons in your biological neural network. Old knowledge is gone and new knowledge is formed. It’s called neuroplasticity. It’s the ability of neurons to disconnect, connect elsewhere, etc. based on what you are thinking/reading/writing/listening/doing.

Minimize complexity by starting from the big picture (i.e. a theory that explains a phenomenon). Then, proceed and do problem solving with a top-down decomposition into subproblems. Focus only on key information for the purpose of each subproblem and skip other details. Solve separate subproblems separately.

[captain-price-unofficially]

ASU-85 and BMD-1 on the move during training, 1970s.

[zepskies]

Strong as Blood - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

AN: This two-part fic can be read as stand-alone, but it’s really a bonus sequel to Break Me Down!

Word Count: 4,500

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Angst, fluff, and a smutty ending. 

To find the chronological reading order for the series, check out the series masterlist. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down

Part 1: “Probably Temporary”

Make no mistake. Ben was still a terrible cook.

He’d sort of gotten the hang of the grill though, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to be smoking meat on the apartment’s second-floor balcony. 

You peeked out at your boyfriend through the sliding glass door to make sure he was still doing okay. He caught you though, and shot you a wink.

He was very proud of his grill. 

We’re so gonna get in trouble with the homeowner’s association, you thought, but you couldn’t help a smile. You obliged him when he beckoned you over, and you slid the door open. 

“Almost done? I think our neighbors are going to complain again,” you said with a laugh. Ben rolled his eyes.

“It’s a bit of smoke, not a fucking forest fire,” he groused. “Let those uppity fucks complain. Bet’cha they won’t have the balls to say shit to my face if I go across the street for a little visit.” 

You soothed him with a hand along his shoulder. It also gave you an excuse to check on his progress. You considered this episode to be a success, considering the balcony wasn’t up in flames this time. And the steaks actually looked good. Not brittle pieces of charcoal, but not raw and bleeding either.  

“I think those are done,” you advised. Ben followed your gaze and nodded. He used his bare hands to turn the foil-wrapped potatoes, just because he could. 

“Why don’t you take ‘em in while I finish up these potatoes,” he said. “How’s the rest coming?”

“Good. I’m about to take the casserole out of the oven,” you said with a nod. Meanwhile, he placed the steaks in a glass dish that been sitting near the open grill. He handed it to you, but you almost dropped the steaks when the hot glass burned your hands. 

You hissed in pain, while Ben caught the dish with both hands. His brows furrowed, first in surprise, then in thinly veiled concern when he looked over at you. He reached out for your shoulder. 

“Damn,” he said. “Didn’t seem that hot…you okay?”

You looked up from your stinging hands and sighed at him in exasperation, but you couldn’t get that mad at him. He sometimes couldn’t gauge things like this when it came to what he could handle, versus what your normal human body could. 

“Yeah. I’ll just break out the aloe. First, let me get some oven mitts,” you replied, but your answering smile retained some good humor. Ben quirked an apologetic smile of his own. He decided to follow you into the kitchen, taking the steaks in himself. 

You grabbed your favorite green oven mitts and carefully took out the veggie casserole. It smelled delicious, but Ben still peered at it over your shoulder when you placed it on the counter. 

“Don’t you look at my casserole sideways,” you quipped. “You need to eat more veggies.”

He leveled you with a dry look. “You saying I’m getting out of shape?”

“God forbid,” you gasped, playfully jabbing at his firm abs with a mitt-covered hand. “I’m just saying, your super metabolism is compensating for a lot of booze and Taco Bell.”

Ben rose a brow at your cheekiness. He drew closer behind you, trapping you against the counter with one hand braced on the edge, and the other sliding up your jean-clad hip. 

“You’ve got some nerve. I don’t talk shit about the stash of Twix bars in your nightstand, do I?” he remarked. He nipped at your ear, making you flinch and giggle. His beard was also tickling your neck. 

“You’re peeping in my nightstand now? How dare you,” you teased. He snorted in response. 

“Please. Your purple vibrator isn’t exactly a fucking mystery to me,” he retorted. You felt his smirk growing against your neck. “Might wanna keep it away from the chocolate though. That could get messy…unless you want it to be.” 

Your body shook with the effort of containing your laughter. He was so fucking gross.

“Don’t you need to check on the potatoes?” you asked. “I don’t want to have to pressure wash the balcony again.”

Ben made a sound of agreement, but was sure to swat you on the ass before he went. You jolted, but you just shook your head with a blush and a smile. 

It had been over a year since you and Ben had moved in together. Already you’d had your first fight as a true couple, your first Christmas, and so many other challenges, large and small, that had all come to solidify one thing for you.

You were happy. Maybe for the first time in your life. 

It just came with some…small caveats, you reflected, as you reached into the fridge to find the jar of aloe vera. Before you slathered some onto your hands, you realized they were no longer red, and they didn’t even sting anymore.

“What the hell?” you muttered. You put back the jar and rested a hand on your hip. 

Well, maybe you hadn’t burned yourself as bad as you thought. 

With that oddity still in your mind, you pulled on your oven mitts again and took up the casserole with the intention of bringing it to the dining table. Admittedly, you were a bit distracted. You didn’t remember about the raised ledge in the doorway to the dining room until it was too late.

You tripped, and though you managed to make it to the table, you gasped when you broke right through the wood. 

The table just seemed to give up when you hit it, cracking in half, and sending you tumbling to the floor with hot casserole heaped on top. You were still stunned when Ben tore back inside. His green eyes were wide, his brows furrowed as he took in the state of you on the floor with the broken table.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, though he bent down to help you up. He checked you for injuries, but both of you found nothing. 

“I’m okay,” you said, a bit shakily. “I tripped, that’s all.”

Ben’s brows raised as he looked from you to the shards of the table. He knocked on the wood surface. 

“Cheap piece of shit. Where’d you get this thing?” he asked. 

You flickered at a smile and admitted, “IKEA.”

Ben shook his head. “We really need to broaden your palate.”

You insisted you were all right. But he insisted, without words, on checking you over again. His hands brushed down your shoulders and arms, your hands and neck.

He held your face in his hands, and he let out a deep sigh. You just smiled up at him, though inside, you were hiding a bit of worry yourself. 

That table hadn’t been cheap. It was solid pine wood. 

But Ben seemed to believe you. He also seemed a bit exasperated. 

“I should just layer you up in goddamn bubble wrap. The way you find ways to break yourself is beyond me,” he muttered. Your lips pursed. 

“I resent that—”

“I’m sure you fucking do.”

“Besides,” you said, a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth. “What a pain in the ass would it be to unwrap me?” 

Ben huffed, even as his hands traveled down to wrap around your waist and pull you in close. 

“True,” he smirked. “You’re already a pain in the ass as it is.” 

You opened your mouth to mount an indignant protest, but he shut you up the only surefire way he knew how. His kiss was swift, deep, and left you humming into his mouth in surprise. 

But you soon pulled back, brushing a thumb along his chin. “We’ve got to clean up this mess. And…did you get the potatoes?”

Ben thought for a moment, but then his mouth firmed into a line. 

“Shit,” he muttered, and released you to run back to the grill. 

That night, you stood barefooted in your nightgown and took a moment alone in the bathroom to breathe. And to think. And to test the strength in your hands, by bending one of Ben’s metal wrenches like it was a useless paper straw. 

Okay, now you were panicking a bit. 

What the fuck? you thought. You had only ever experienced super strength when you were on V24 (which you had not taken, let alone the permanent stuff). 

But…if you thought about it, there had been one other time when you had felt this strong. And it had been when you were in the hospital, almost two years ago, after Vought Tower collapsed. You’d needed a surgery you might not have lived through. It was Ben’s actions that had saved you…after he donated his blood.

Unless he was somehow giving you transfusions without you knowing, there was only one other possibility you could think of for Ben’s DNA to somehow be in your system…

Holy shit, you thought. And you sat down on the closed toilet. Hard. Enough to dislodge a decorative dish that was perched on a shelf behind you. You gasped, but weren’t able to catch it before it hit the ground loudly. You winced and picked it up, even as you heard Ben’s steps approaching the bathroom. 

“You okay?” he asked predictably, through the closed door.

“Fine!” you said, your voice too high. You cleared your throat and tried to normalize your voice. “I’m fine, just dropped something.”

“Christ. You going for a record today?” he remarked. 

You rolled your eyes. 

A few minutes later, you finished in the bathroom and tried to act as normal as possible as you slid into bed next to your boyfriend. He was watching TV, but he glanced over at you. You knew he was silently assessing you, seeing if you were really okay. 

You gave him a smile and leaned over for a goodnight kiss. You attempted to be chaste, but he deepened it. He slid an arm around your waist and tilted his head, slipping his tongue between the seam of your lips. 

You welcomed him at first…but a tremor of warning flashed in your mind, along with the persistent thought that had followed you from the bathroom.

Should I tell him? 

You didn’t know why your inclination was to hold it in. There very well could be something wrong with you. But if your suspicions were true, then you wanted confirmation first. 

“What’s the matter?” Ben asked. He’d pulled back, sensing your distraction. You came back to yourself.

“Nothing, just tired,” you said, stroking his chest over his shirt. 

Ben looked into your eyes, his face more or less stoic. You saw the way he was trying to get a read on you though, like he didn’t quite believe you. You couldn’t blame him, but you could be very convincing when you needed to be.

He eventually nodded, letting you turn away from him to slip under the covers. Even though you felt the sting of your lie tingling unpleasantly down your spine. 

You met Dr. Tonya Baker at her office in the Supe Affairs building. She’d been Vought’s top scientist, up until last year. After Stan Edgar’s death and the company’s collapse, the CIA recruited Dr. Baker. 

You didn’t like her. Nor did you trust her, exactly, but she had assisted Dr. Vogelbaum when Becca Butcher came to him with a unique problem. Now, Dr. Baker was the only one left with the knowledge and resources to advise you.

And she was able to confirm your suspicions. She came back with lab results while you sat up on an examining table. 

“You’re eleven weeks pregnant,” she informed you. 

Even though you’d been somewhat expecting it, suspicion and knowing were very different things. You took in a shaking breath, and through your shock, you were smiling. Happy, and even relieved.

Until Dr. Baker spoke again. 

“The super strength is probably temporary. A side effect of the fetus’s genetics. But, it’s also advantageous for you,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “This makes it much more likely that you’ll survive the birth.”

Your breath ceased at that thought, not to mention her clinical delivery. 

“Always with that delightful bedside manner, Doctor,” you quipped. All of a sudden, you were feeling lightheaded. 

Or maybe you were just freaking the fuck out. 

When you got home that evening after work, Ben watched you. 

He knew something was off with you the second you walked through the door, pale and pensive. Still, you flashed him a greeting and a smile that didn’t reach your eyes on your way to the bedroom. 

So he followed you. And the fact that you didn’t even notice, even flinched when he dropped a hand on your shoulder, told him that you were more than just distracted. The last straw was when you walked into the dresser while glancing back at him. You hissed and shook out your sandle-clad foot. 

Now, you were injury prone at the best of times, but this was a bit much, Ben thought. 

“Geez, I didn’t even hear you,” you said, trying at a chuckle. “Normally you thud around in those combat boots like an elephant. We’re lucky no one lives below us—”

“What’s the matter with you?” Ben asked. He was never one to beat around the bush. 

Your eyes widened a fraction; unease crept down your spine, but you gave him a quirk of your brow. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You fucking heard me,” he said. His gaze was hunter green, serious, and focused down on you.

“I’m fine, Ben—”

“No,” he snapped. “There’s something off with you.” 

You bit your lower lip. It seemed your boyfriend knew you better than you thought. You’d had a plan though. You had wanted to wait until you had a moment to shake off your anxiety and focus on the good when you sat him down this evening.

But you should’ve known better. Ben was remarkably impatient, even when he didn’t know what he was in for. 

And he got tired of waiting for your answer. 

He changed tactics, reaching for your arms. His grip was firm, but gentle in brushing his thumbs back and forth across your skin. His mouth was in a line, and you caught the concern hiding under his furrowed brows. 

“What’s so bad you can’t tell me?” he asked. 

You looked up into his eyes. Despite yourself, you had to smile. I’m not playing fair, you realized. 

“Okay, come ‘ere,” you said. You took his hand and led him to sit with you on the bed. Pulling his hand between both of yours into your lap, you sighed and thought about how you were going to say this. 

After a moment, you got a burst of inspiration. You held up a waiting finger to him and went into the closet to pull out one of your 25-pound hand weights. It might as well have weighed a pound, for how light it felt. You brought it back to the bed, and Ben stared back at you quizzically. 

“So…I didn’t get that table from IKEA,” you confessed. “It was solid wood, and I really did break straight through it.”

He rose a brow. “All right…”

You then showed him your newfound strength, by breaking the hand weight in half with your bare hands. His eyes widened, making you giggle a bit. You deposited both metal heads into his hands. He considered them, then you. His brows were knitting together even tighter. 

“What the hell—”

“Remember when you donated blood for me, when I was laid up in the hospital a couple years ago?” you asked. “I got your super strength for a day or two afterwards.”

Ben nodded. You had been a bit more than laid up, but semantics, he guessed. He was getting more confused by the moment. 

“Well this time, I’m told it’s also temporary…for the next seven months or so,” you said with a playful smile. 

Ben considered your words. He turned them back and forth in his head… 

Finally, his gaze flicked from yours to the broken weights in his hands. And he tossed them to the floor with a heavy thud on the hard wood. 

You giggled in earnest when he reached for your face with both hands. His eyes searched yours for any hint of a joke, his jaw tight and working. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?” he asked. His voice was a hint unsteady. You smiled bright and covered his hands with your own as the beginnings of tears stung in your eyes. 

“Not this time,” you said. “Ben, I’m pregnant.” 

It took him a moment to register your words. You saw the moment it all finally set in, with new realization etching into his features.

Never once had you seen this man tear up. He turned his face away, but you still caught the edges of his emotion. 

You reached for his bearded cheek, turning him back to you. His eyes were red and starting to shine, even though he was fighting it. A muscle in his jaw clenched, and then eased.

After a beat, his hands moved down from your face to brush down your arms, down your sides and around your frame. He pulled you into his lap, for which you went willingly into his arms. And your tears fell in earnest when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You knew what this meant to him, but you still couldn’t help but prod at him.

“Are you happy?” you teased, rubbing his back. Ben huffed and brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes. 

“What do you think?” he countered.  

Your hand moved down to slip under his shirt, gliding over the taut muscles in his back as they responded to your touch. You met him with a small smirk. 

“Show me,” you challenged. 

His lips quirked; that was all the encouragement he needed. Ben’s hands moved to tangle in your hair and squeeze the curve of your waist, bringing you flush against him when he kissed you. You inhaled deeply. Your nails dragged up his back, applying some pressure that made his shoulders twitch. 

You didn’t know what your newfound strength felt like to him, but for Ben, you felt solid in a way you hadn’t before. He could let go of some of his self-control and knead your hips with a force beyond bruising.

He could veer away from your lips and raze down your neck, and give your shoulder a love bite that would’ve drawn blood. Now it didn’t even break your skin. It did, however, earn him a pleased gasp. 

Maybe he’d just have to keep knocking you up, he thought. So you’d always be this strong.  

You started rucking up his shirt first, and had to push him back to even get it off him. After that, all bets were off.

It was a mad scramble to shed each other’s clothes, with Ben not being able to get away with his usual manhandling. Your smile grew, as you now had the strength to literally push back and make him work a bit harder for it.  

He smirked up at you when you managed to take him by surprise and push him back onto the bed. You’d successfully bared him for your gaze, but you still had your bra and panties on as you climbed over him and straddled his lap. 

Ben held himself up with a hand on the bed as the other slid around your waist and hooked you in. You took his face in your hands and gave him the full force of your passion.

Your lips claimed his in a devouring kiss, teeth clicking and tongues dueling for dominance. And you ground down your clothed core against his rising length, earning his groan of appreciation into your mouth.

With a flick of his wrist, your bra strap snapped off in the back. You huffed, knowing he’d probably broken the clasp.

Ah well, I’m about to need new ones soon enough.

The thought made you smile against his lips. You let him pull the bra down your arms and wherever he decided to fling it off to. You thought he might start traveling down between your breasts, as was a favorite path of his to map out.

But then, in one smooth motion Ben had you flipped over onto your back. He grinned at your yelp of surprise, but he didn’t give you a chance to recover. He latched onto your neck again, this time on the other side as he scraped his beard and teeth across your skin.

Meanwhile, you moaned encouragements in his ear while his heavy hand squeezed one of your breasts, rolled a thumb over a pert nipple. 

You trailed your hands down his chest, soothing over golden tan skin and freckles and sculpted muscle until you reached his hard length. You earned a straining grunt from your man as you teased the sensitive flesh, a thumb circling over its weeping head. 

Ben grabbed your wrist and gave you a warning look. “Can’t let me fucking concentrate, huh?”

You just grinned and took his hand instead. You dragged it down your body until you guided his fingers into your underwear, between your wet folds. 

“Ben, I need you,” you said. But your need was already in your eyes. Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, and deep inside, where you burned for him most. 

Ben felt it in your iron grip on his hand, now almost as strong as his own. Your legs curled up his thighs to wrap around his hips, teasing him with the soft promise between your inner thighs. So how could he do anything else but give you what you wanted? 

He teased between your folds with his fingers first. Gathering some of your wetness, he circled over your clit firmly. You whimpered as your back arched in response. 

“Gonna sing for me, baby doll?” he teased. Your breathing became more labored as his fingers continued to play with you, but you managed to offer a small smirk. 

“You gonna make me?” you asked. “Think you need to bring out the big guns for that one.”

Ben chuckled. As usual, you were being a little shit. 

So he brought you to the edge of your release, just with his fingers. You were starting to squeeze them tight with your inner walls, your moans getting more urgent. But he withdrew his digits at the last moment, leaving you panting and confused.

“What…”

He smirked down at you and wrapped his slick fingers around his cock, stroking himself a few times. You watched him with expectant, hungry eyes.  

“You want the big guns, I’ll fucking give ‘em to you,” he said. It made you huff, but you had to smile as he returned to you. He hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties and slowly, torturous, he pulled them down your legs.

Those same hands then traveled back up, gliding across your skin with purpose. Your breath shallowed in anticipation.

He eventually gripped your hips, pushing your thighs up a bit farther, and you lined his cock to your entrance. Your heels dug into his ass and added a bit of force when he pushed inside you. And your moans tangled together along with your bodies.

You fairly pulsed inside, and he felt it in your inner walls wrapped so fucking tight around him. His forehead briefly fell to your shoulder. Even though you were panting for breath, you still soothed him, carding your fingers through his hair. 

Normally he’d be going off at a relentless clip by now. But Ben started slow, rolling his hips back and forth into yours at a steady rhythm that managed to take your breath away and make your toes curl.

His name fell from your lips, reverent and pleased. You felt every part of him as he plunged inside you, and it was incredibly fucking hot.  

He took a moment to meet your eyes. He gave you a grin that softened the hard edges that so often lined his face in times like this. And you realized then what was happening.

Ben didn’t do slow. Not for long anyway. But it seemed like he’d taken your challenge to heart. In fact, you had a feeling he was showing you what he couldn’t quite put into words. 

When he reached a hand to part your folds and circle two insistent finger pads around your clit, you couldn’t help but grip his arms tight enough to bruise him. Your mouth opened on a keening moan.

Combined with his deep strokes starting to brush all the right spots inside you, it had you squeezing on him from the inside as you came hard, and made it known in his ear.

“Fuck—” Ben’s brows furrowed as your release finally triggered his own. And his voice joined yours, muffling in the pillow under your head. You shuddered as he spilled deep inside you. 

Your arms came around his back and held him to you for a moment afterwards, just stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck, whatever you could reach while you both caught your breath.

Eventually, Ben’s lips found your neck. You felt the shape of his smile grow there. 

“Too bad you’re already knocked up, or that could’ve been a great way to bring in our second kid,” he remarked.

This time, it took a second for his words to click together in your mind. As soon as they did, you uttered a laugh that shook both of your frames. You swatted his ass in reproach. He smirked down at you.

“I can't with you,” you said. Though you were still giggling. “You’re just gonna have to wait for the first one to come out of the oven.” 

Ben’s smirk evened out into a grin, his face almost boyish in his glee.

“Well, what can I say, baby? You’re a damn good cook.”  

AN: 😂 Well then. What did you think of how she broke the news? And Ben's reaction to finding out he's finally going to be a dad? 🥹

But of course, it's not going to be all sunshine and roses in Part 2. The reader and Ben reveal the good news to her family, and as we all know, he's hoping for a son...

Next Time:

“Hey,” she said. “You know how much I care about you, right?”

“And where’s this going?” you quipped. But you turned around and gave your little sister a half-smile. You knew what she was about to say.

“So what are you going to do about that?” she asked, gesturing to your man in the kitchen. “Mr. Macho wants his prized stud. What happens if he doesn’t get him?”

You sighed. “Ben’s wanted this for a long time. He’s got an idea in his head of what it’s going to be like, and…we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Keep reading: PART 2

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[mcatmemoranda]

Lifestyle measures – Lifestyle measures to reduce bone loss include adequate calcium and vitamin D intake, exercise, smoking cessation, fall prevention, and avoidance of heavy alcohol use. In general, women should achieve 1200 mg of elemental calcium daily (total diet plus supplement) and 800 international units of vitamin D daily. If dietary calcium intake is inadequate, we suggest calcium supplementation.

●Low bone mass (osteopenia) – In postmenopausal women with low bone mass and without fragility fracture, we calculate absolute fracture risk using the Fracture Risk Assessment Tool (FRAX). For most patients with low to moderate fracture risk, we suggest not using pharmacologic therapy to prevent bone loss or fracture. (See 'Our approach' above.)

●Patient selection for osteoporosis pharmacologic therapy

•For postmenopausal women with a diagnosis of osteoporosis based on bone mineral density (BMD; T-score ≤-2.5) or fragility fracture, we recommend treatment with pharmacotherapy (algorithm 1) (Grade 1A).

•For postmenopausal women with low BMD (T-score between -1.0 and -2.5) and high fracture risk, we also suggest pharmacologic therapy (Grade 2B). In the United States, a 10-year probability of hip fracture or combined major osteoporotic fracture of ≥3 or ≥20 percent, respectively, is a reasonable threshold for pharmacotherapy.

●Choice of initial therapy

•Most women with osteoporosis – For the initial treatment of osteoporosis in most postmenopausal women, we suggest oral bisphosphonates (algorithm 2) (Grade 2B). We prefer these agents based on efficacy, cost, and long-term safety data. Oral bisphosphonates are contraindicated in those with esophageal disorders (eg, esophageal stricture) or known malabsorption (eg, Roux-en-Y gastric bypass) (algorithm 2).

Algorithm 2:

25(OH)D: 25-hydroxyvitamin D; CKD: chronic kidney disease; eGFR: estimated glomerular filtration rate; GI: gastrointestinal.

* Refer to additional UpToDate content on evaluation of hypercalcemia and hypocalcemia.

¶ Very high risk of fracture: No consensus exists on the definition of very high fracture risk. Examples may include: T-score of ≤–3.0 even in the absence of fractures, T-score of ≤–2.5 plus a fragility fracture, severe or multiple vertebral fractures.

Δ Patients most likely to benefit from anabolic therapy are those with the highest risk of fracture (eg, T-score ≤–3.5 with fragility fracture[s], T-score ≤–4.0, recent major osteoporotic fracture, or multiple recent fractures).

◊ Increased risk of vertebral fracture is evident after discontinuation of denosumab; the need for indefinite administration of denosumab should be discussed with patients prior to its initiation.

§ Anabolic agents include teriparatide, abaloparatide, romosozumab.

¥ Oral bisphosphonates are poorly absorbed and must be taken on an empty stomach first thing in the morning with at least 240 mL (8 oz) of water. After administration, the patient should not have food, drink, medications, or supplements and should remain upright for at least 1 half-hour.‡ Denosumab is an alternative to intravenous zoledronic acid for women at high risk for fracture who have difficulty with the dosing requirements of oral bisphosphonates or who prefer to avoid intravenous bisphosphonates due to side effects. However, increased risk of vertebral fracture is evident after discontinuation of denosumab so the need for either indefinite treatment or transition to another osteoporosis medication should be addressed with patients before denosumab initiation.

We typically prefer alendronate as our choice of oral bisphosphonate due to efficacy in reducing vertebral and hip fracture and evidence showing residual fracture benefit after a five-year course of therapy is completed. Risedronate is a reasonable alternative.

•Very high fracture risk – For postmenopausal women with very high fracture risk (eg, T-score of ≤-2.5 plus a fragility fracture, T-score of ≤-3.0 in the absence of fragility fracture[s], history of severe or multiple fractures) (algorithm 1), we suggest initial treatment with an anabolic agent (Grade 2B). Patients most likely to benefit from anabolic therapy are those with the highest risk of fracture (eg, T-score ≤-3.5 with fragility fracture[s], T-score ≤-4.0, recent major osteoporotic fracture, or multiple recent fractures). Options for anabolic therapy include teriparatide, abaloparatide, or romosozumab. For patients with very high fracture risk who cannot be treated with an anabolic agent due to cost, inconvenience, contraindications, or personal preference, a bisphosphonate or denosumab may be appropriate (algorithm 2). Patients should be under the care of a provider with expertise in treating osteoporosis to facilitate shared decision-making.

●Contraindications to bisphosphonates

•Oral bisphosphonates contraindicated – Patients who cannot take oral bisphosphonates can be treated with an intravenous (IV) bisphosphonate instead (algorithm 2). Zoledronic acid is our agent of choice, as it is the only IV bisphosphonate with demonstrated efficacy for fracture prevention. Denosumab is a reasonable alternative. (See 'Gastrointestinal malabsorption or difficulty with dosing requirements' above.)

●Oral and IV bisphosphonates contraindicated

•Most women with osteoporosis – For most patients who cannot tolerate any bisphosphonate, we suggest denosumab rather than an anabolic agent (Grade 2C). Increased risk of vertebral fracture develops after discontinuation of denosumab, so the need for indefinite administration should be discussed with patients prior to denosumab initiation.

Anabolic agents may be used in patients with less severe osteoporosis when bisphosphonates are contraindicated. For patients with no history of fragility fracture(s), particularly those at high risk for breast cancer, raloxifene is a reasonable alternative.

•Very high fracture risk – For patients at very high risk of fracture (eg, T-score of ≤-2.5 plus a fragility fracture, T-score of ≤-3.0 in the absence of fragility fracture(s), history of severe or multiple fractures) who were not treated initially with anabolic therapy, we suggest switching to an anabolic agent (Grade 2C). Denosumab is an alternative. (See 'Contraindications or intolerance to any bisphosphonates' above and "Parathyroid hormone/parathyroid hormone-related protein analog therapy for osteoporosis", section on 'Overview of approach'.)

After initial therapy with an anabolic agent is discontinued, patients should be treated with an antiresorptive agent (typically a bisphosphonate) to preserve the gains in BMD from anabolic therapy. For individuals who are unable to tolerate oral or intravenous bisphosphonates, alternatives may include denosumab or raloxifene. (See "Parathyroid hormone/parathyroid hormone-related protein analog therapy for osteoporosis", section on 'Management after teriparatide' and "Parathyroid hormone/parathyroid hormone-related protein analog therapy for osteoporosis", section on 'Management after abaloparatide'.)

●Monitoring – For patients who initiate osteoporosis pharmacotherapy, we obtain a follow-up dual-energy x-ray absorptiometry (DXA) of the hip and spine after one to two years (algorithm 3). A change in BMD is considered significant only if it exceeds the least significant change (LSC) for the specific densitometer used. If LSC is not available, a threshold change of ≥5 percent has been suggested as an alternative. (See 'Our approach' above.)

•Bone mineral density stable or increased – If BMD is stable or improved, we continue therapy and remeasure BMD less frequently (eg, two to five years based on the clinical setting).

•Bone mineral density decreased or fracture during therapy – After at least one year of osteoporosis pharmacotherapy, a BMD decrease greater than the LSC or new fragility fracture should trigger additional evaluation, including assessment for treatment nonadherence or interim development of a secondary cause of bone loss (table 8). Whenever possible, patients should be under the care of a clinician with expertise in osteoporosis management.

If a remediable secondary cause of bone loss is identified, it should be treated. If the secondary cause of bone loss cannot be mitigated, or no secondary cause is identified, management depends on BMD and whether an interim fragility fracture occurred.

-Interim fragility fracture or T-score ≤-2.5 – For postmenopausal women who experience a fragility fracture or have a T-score ≤-2.5 on bisphosphonate therapy, we suggest discontinuing the bisphosphonate and switching to anabolic therapy (Grade 2C). Teriparatide and romosozumab increase BMD after previous bisphosphonate treatment. (See 'Interim fragility fracture or T-score ≤-2.5' above and 'Selection of anabolic agent' above.)

-BMD decreased but no interim fracture and T-score >-2.5 – In the absence of interim fragility fracture or T-score ≤-2.5, we use bone turnover markers and clinical assessments to evaluate the likelihood of treatment effectiveness. If treatment is unlikely effective, we stop the oral bisphosphonate and switch to IV zoledronic acid. If treatment is likely effective, we typically continue oral bisphosphonate therapy and remeasure BMD with DXA in one to two years. (See 'BMD decreased but no interim fracture and T-score >-2.5' above.)

[piiiiinkheart]

If BMD FOX APPAREL has a million haters im one of them. If it has a 1000 haters im still one of them. If it has 1 hater its me. If BMD FOX APPAREL has 0 haters it means I have left this world. If the world is against BMD FOX APPAREL then I am with the world

[75log]

BABYMETAL BEGINS - THE OTHER ONE -めっちゃ楽しかった〜！

新体制でのBABYMETAL DEATH最高でしたね！！！MOMOMETALが名乗った時の会場の歓声も胸が熱くなりましたし、何よりカメラに抜かれたMOMOMETALがマジで格好良くてテンション爆上がりでした。

BABYMETALの終焉と誕生を見届けられたことがとても感無量です。

〜以下ライブの感想〜

光と影、現実と虚像など対であることをテーマとしている曲が多いTHE OTHER ONE。特にTHE LEGENDはSU-METALとMOAMETALのふたりの曲であるように感じていたので、NEW METALが発表される前の2人体制でオープニング曲に選ばれることは予想していましたが、そこからの1日目のセトリは全く予想外で驚きの連続でした。

そして1日目はNEW METAL明かされてからBMDでライブが終わることを予想していたので、NEW METALが指名される前にDEATH-shinが挟まるのも驚きでした。あの磔は3人体制からの2人体制だけでなくアベンジャーズ体制も含めた終焉ということなのでしょうね。 新曲たっぷりの1日目とそれを踏まえて3人体制になった2日目と、セトリ満足度がすごいライブでした。 いいねやMETAL KINGDOM、KARATEなどが特に顕著だったと思うのですが、SU-様が多彩な歌声の表現を披露していて、止まることを知らない進化にドキドキしました。

新曲で一番楽しみだったのはTime Waveだったのですが、サビ前のブレイクからの爆発はやはりライブ映えしてめちゃくちゃ楽しかったですね！新曲の映像はどの曲も面白かったのでWOWOWか青デロが出たらじっくり観たいですね。映像といえば私はDistortionのMVがめちゃくちゃ好きなので2日ともドーンと映っていて最高でした！！！

KARATEのメタルバース組のVoさんは幕張のドキモよりもSU-様に声寄せてきていて、すごい！そして歌が上手い！！と思いながら鑑賞していたのですが、いざベビメタ組のターンになったらSU-様が王気をまといながら歌いだしたので圧倒されてしまいました。はい、この曲は我が王の曲です……。

METALIZMはどういったノリの曲になっていくのだろうと1日目は思っていましたが、ｽﾞﾑｽﾞﾑのZ踊りを客席も踊っていく形で落ち着きそうで面白いですね。

2日目のRoRが2曲目だったのはすごくびっくりしたけど、旗が新しいロゴに変わってて新体制のお披露目だったんだな〜！と思いました。今回の発表の流れを考えるとラストで満を持して出すより早めに出すほうが重要なのでしょうね。何よりMOMOMETALの笑顔がすっごく良くて…！！ 1日目にO字に光ってたゲーミング銅鑼でしたが、2日目では登場しなくて「今日は銅鑼なしか」って思った瞬間に花火が爆発して口から心臓飛び出るかと思いました。音がデカい。

これから始まるワールドツアーはBMD始まりになるのかな、いまから2024年の日本公演が楽しみです。

ワールドツアー、いってらっしゃいー！