01/18/2026  The Return of the Surfer Category: Adventure Galactus, a huge cosmic threat had been defeated by the Fantastic Four, with some help from his own herald, the Silver Surfer. Years had passed calmly. Little known to all a new threat was emerging from Latveria.  In space, Shalla-Bal, the Silver Surfer roamed. She had managed to survive pushing Galactus into the portal created by Reed Richards, but now she had no real place to go. Home was the first thought, but when she arrived, the hero's welcome she thought she would receive was not what she got.  Her people, once proud and saddened by her sacrifice to save them, now looked at her with disgrace. She was no hero. She was just as bad as Galactus. Destroying lives. Destroying worlds. Sacrificing the many. They asked her to leave and never return. And so she did. 04: PM 77 Comments  (Add Comment)  | 96 Kudos  Back to Blog List

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	④𝕴nvisible 𝖂oman④	Steam drifted off the water in lazy ribbons, curling into the sharp January air before the wind cut through them. The cold had a bite that kissed the tip of Susan’s nose, making the heat of the tub feel like a luxury she’d earned. She sank deeper, the water hugging her collarbones, her shoulders finally dropping. This was the only time she didn't have to be "The Invisible Woman"—just a woman, unguarded and alone. Her FF‑blue bikini top lay folded beside her, forgotten the moment she’d decided she deserved to feel weightless. She tipped her head back, exposing her throat to the cold. Her chest rose with a long, indulgent breath. Her champagne sat on the ledge, condensation tracing slow paths down the glass. The projector bathed the roof in a soft, cinematic glow. For a few minutes, the world wasn't asking for a miracle. Then the screen glitched. A violent, jagged red flash shattered the mood: H.E.R.B.I.E. PRIORITY ALERT. Sue’s eyes opened with the slow, regal annoyance of a woman whose peace had been stolen once too often. She tilted her head back, a low, fed-up groan vibrating in her throat. “Oh, marvelous,” she murmured, her voice velvet-soft and bone-dry. “The universe really does have impeccable timing.” She set the glass down with a deliberate, disciplined click and pushed herself up. As she rose, the warmth of the water slid off her skin and the cold rushed in to take its place. Her thighs shifted instinctively, finding her balance on the slick tile as droplets chased each other down her stomach. The sudden chill prickled her skin, and her breasts reacted to the temperature change with a sharp, natural lift. Her nipples hardened instantly against the freezing air—a sharp, honest response to the New York winter. She stepped out onto the ledge, her movement fluid but heavy with the weight of the water. The soaked, clingy fabric of her bikini bottoms offered no resistance to the cold, pressing tight against her skin and tracing the soft, distinct curve of her vulva as she adjusted her stance. She reached for her bikini top, her fingers moving with a practiced, thoughtless grace as the fabric tugged across her chest and settled back into place. A shiver rippled up her spine, and her hips gave an involuntary, tiny sway to shake off the cold. “What now,” she sighed. “A meteor? A portal? Johnny attempting adulthood?” UNIDENTIFIED COSMIC SIGNATURE IN THE BAXTER BUILDING — LOCATION: JOHNNY’S QUARTERS Sue froze. Her breasts rose sharply—the deep, focused inhale of a woman who knew exactly how much paperwork a 'cosmic signature' involved. “Splendid. That’s never a small problem.” She snatched a towel, wrapping it low around her waist as she stepped out. The heavy fabric settled against her thighs, grounding her as she moved toward the storage bench. Her chest found a steady, unhurried rhythm with each stride—the kind of movement that didn't need to try to look commanding. It just was. She flipped the lid of the bench. Her blue and white FF uniform was there, folded with military precision. Sue exhaled, the sharp breath fogging the air and lifting her breasts as she reached for the gear. “Heaven forbid I enjoy ten uninterrupted minutes.” She pulled the top on first. The fabric caught for a second on her damp skin before smoothing down. Her chest rose as she worked the fitted material over her torso, the blue fabric hugging her tight, leaving her midriff bare. Her abs tightened against the cold—toned and proud. She’d had Franklin less than a year ago, and she wore that exposed stomach like a badge of honor. She stepped into the leggings with a subtle roll of her hips, the towel dropping away the moment her legs were free to move. She braced a hand against the wall to slide into her boots, her calf flexing as she stepped in. A small, natural bounce followed as she straightened up. Finally, the gloves. She snapped them on with a sharp flick of her wrist. No theatrics. Just a woman getting dressed for work. The shift was instant. The wine-soft woman from the tub was gone, replaced by the one who walked into disasters like they were mild inconveniences. She strode down the hallway, damp hair clinging to her neck. Her thighs carried her with that grounded, British-esque elegance—deliberate and completely unbothered. Her core remained tight, muscles shifting beneath the blue fabric like quiet armor. “Right then,” she muttered. "If this is another interdimensional houseguest, I’m instituting a sign‑in sheet.” HERBIE was hovering outside Johnny’s door, flashing like a panicked Christmas tree. Susan pushed past the droid and stepped inside. The female Silver Surfer was standing in the center of the room—luminous, bare, and utterly serene. Sue stopped. She took her in, blinking once. Then she tilted her chin, giving that subtle, aristocratic look of a queen surveying a trespasser. “Oh, darling… truly?” she said, her voice dropping into a low, rich register. “I believe in love at first sight, but this is bordering on a stalking farce.” The Surfer tilted her head, light rippling over her metallic skin. Susan crossed her arms under her breasts with a calm, indulgent authority. “You’re not the first unclothed woman I’ve found in my brother’s room, mind you… though they’re usually sneaking out, not boldly strolling in.” Posted by ④𝕴nvisible 𝖂oman④ on Sun Jan 18, 2026, 10:01 [Reply to this]

	ℌ𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔡	Roaming space for years, planet hoping to only be shunned, Shalla-Bal eventually decided to return to Earth, the only other planet she had managed to save. The only planet she might still have a friend. Though she wouldn't be surprised if she was not welcome there either. As she entered the atmosphere of Earth, she knew that her presence would be picked up by Reed Richards and his team. It had been years since she had last been to this planet and hoped that time would be enough to forgive her for the mistakes she made while working for Galactus. And hoped they would remember her heroic deed. At least one member of the Fantastic Four she was sure wouldn't immediately paint her as one of the bad guys. Softly she landed on the balcony outside of Johnny Storm's bedroom. He liked her before. Or at least was fascinated by her. She hoped he still had that fixation. He was her last chance at a meaningful connection. Stepping off her surfboard she propped it up next to his sliding glass door that was partially covered by curtains. Inside she could see him sitting at a desk, headphones on. She couldn't help but wonder what he was listening to. Her next thought was, how will I get his attention if his hearing is limited. Sighing softly to herself, in a somewhat defeated manner, she knocked on the glass. No immediate response. She sighed again. It would be easier to just phase through the door and enter his room but that seemed like something the herald of Galactus would do, not Shalla-Bal. So she tapped the glass once more. Again no repsose. Again she wasn't surprised. She thought about giving up for now. Maybe go fly around the planet. Do some sightseeing. Try again later. But a glimmer of hope arrived. The little robot friend of his, H.E.R.B.I.E., it rolled into his room and it noticed a presence outside his room. Staring at her, she gave the robot a friendly wave, which in turn prompted the robot to poke Johnny in the leg while pointing at his sliding glass door where she stood. Posted by ℌ𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔡 on Sun Jan 18, 2026, 04:01 [Reply to this]

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