#Alex kim

[alphamecha-mkii]

LAAT/le Gunship Packaging Art by Alex Kim

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Star Wars: Legion - Republic 501st Battle Force Box Art by Alex Kim

[pedroam-bang]

Star Wars: Legion (2017)

[seoulcity-batman]

20WAVE BOOMERANG MV

[chayacat]

Road96: Shandara’s Land (15)  

Fandom: Road96 

Rated M for Language and Violence.  

*** 

Everything was silent at the hideout. Mitch was with Sonya, comforting her as best he could. And trying to recover from his emotions with a good hot chocolate. Jarod smoked peacefully outside, observing the starry sky. Fanny and John cared for Alex as the most precious of their treasure. Maybe a little too much for the taste of the young boy. Stan was on the small terrace at the top of the building, he was sitting on the floor, also observing the starry sky under his hood. Suddenly he heard footsteps coming to him. When he looks around, he saw Anna, a blanket around her, two cups of hot chocolate on each hand.  

“Do you want some?” She asks holding one of the cups to him.  

“...thanks.” He said smiling under his hood, taking the cup in his gloved hand. “How do you feel?” 

“Like someone who almost became a human ice cream.” She replied chuckling. “And you?” 

“Like someone who almost became a human pancake.” Stan said chuckling too making Anna laughing again. “...I feel bad for Sonya...and for everyone else...” 

“It’s not your fault you know. And you save us. If you weren’t there...We will be no longer there.”  

Stan looks at her while she looks at the starry sky. How beautiful she was under the night sky...her light blue eyes sparkling with stars, strands of her red hair delicately kissing her face, the rest being linked in that high ponytail of hers. She was truly amazing...a star herself.  

“You know...i...i was wondered...” starts Stan. 

“Hum?” said Anna looking at him.  

“You and Merlina... How long have you been... rivals together?” 

“Well...since always, to be honest. Merlina Yung is not the kind to like having competition you know. Then... When I started making a name for myself as an explorer... She didn't really enjoy it. Before... I was a journalist. I was writing articles about discoveries that were being made all over the world. I loved it. Seeing all these people talk about their historical finds... of those mystical places or objects that were hidden from the eyes of the world... It rekindled in me a passion that I had since I was a little girl. So, I stopped everything and started exploring the world on my own! and I discovered amazing things! in a short time... I was almost called equal to Merlina.”  

“Wow...i wish I could have learned about this sooner...I'm sure you would have convinced me to become an explorer too.” replied Stan.  

“Hahaha thank you...If you knew how wonderful it was to stumble upon ancient temples, hidden in the most dangerous tropical forests... or pirate treasures engulfed in the abyss of the oceans... and to discover all these stories hidden from the eyes of the world... But it is especially that of the Shandarians that has always fascinated me the most. I was only looking forward to one thing... to finally be able to come here to Petria and finally allow this country to discover its true history...” said Anna with stars in her eyes.  

“You seem really passionate by it. It’s cute.”  

 Anna couldn't help but blush and look at him. She was lovely. So adorable that Stan had only one desire: to hug her and keep her against him forever. But it was too early. He couldn't afford it. Not now. Slowly but surely.  

“And... You then? I would like to know more about... the dreams of little Stan Sanchez. Because I doubt that becoming a criminal was a childhood dream.” said Anna with a little laugh.  

“Haha...no. Being a thief was from afar, seeing very far, my dream. In fact, Mitch and I wanted to be mechanics. Or cops. Which is quite ironic today.” said Stan.  

“Cops? Really?”  

“Yeah. It’s hard to believe huh? But It’s true. Mitch and I were dreaming about being both cops. It's funny to think about it knowing that we're on the other side of the fence now.”  

“I find it cute.”  

Anna rested her head against Stan's arm, making Stan blush even more. The two looked at the stars without saying a word more. The slightly cool wind caressing their bodies despite being covered by the blanket. But then Anna realized something. She took out her notebook and looked at the various inscriptions she had carefully noted. Her eyes widened in surprise when she realized the significance of her research.  

“That’s it!” she said happy. Stan looks at her confused and surprised. She then talks again. “Look at this. This is the notes I take from the Shandarian’s Library.”  

Stan glanced quickly. For him, it was a foreign language of which he knew no letter. He could hardly read a single word on the young woman's notebook.  

“In each of their writings, the Shandarians worshipped what they called the Great Goddess. At first, I thought it was a translation error on my part. But in reality, this is not the case! The great goddess mentioned is a constellation!” said Anna.  

“A constellation?” said Stan.  

“Yes! That of Cassiopeia. She is always depicted in books as sitting, holding a feather or a mirror in her hand. She was a queen during her lifetime. Who was punished by the nymphs for claiming that her daughter Andromeda was more beautiful than them. The Shandarians worshipped this Queen!” 

“That why they thought that their Queen was maybe the daughter of a goddess.”  

“Exactly. Now look. The gardens were...here, under a mine in Iron Reef.” replied Anna.  

“The library was under the Mount National.” Said Stan.  

“The text I found in the library said that they’ll construct something near the stars, where sea and earth lean against each under the goddess blessing.” 

“In other words, our next trip takes us to the coast. But which one?”  

“I have no idea. I'll have to look a little more.”  

 On Merlina Yung's side, the leader of the Purple Lynx was getting annoyed. If every trap she set was foiled by this small group of junk, she would quickly become disillusioned. She must find the perfect trap to make Anna disappear as soon as possible. But for now, she had something else to sort out. Flores had tried to escape again, despite Tyrak's increased security. So, she was at the Iron Pit, walking nonchalantly and quietly towards Flores' cell, paying no attention to the other prisoners who were screaming at her.  

She stopped in front of Flores' cell, which was bound hand and foot by chains. She had a few scratches, as a result of the "punishment" inflicted on her. When she heard Merlina's footsteps stop from her cell, Flores raised her head, coldly, with some pride.  

“Well, I must admit that, for a woman of your age, you are tenacious. An astonishing quality, for a president stripped of her post.” said Merlina.  

“As long as my country needs me, I will stand up, Yung.” said Flores.  

“How cute. It’s...disgusting me. When will you realize that this country is no longer yours? Tyrak took over governance. As for you, you will rot here.” 

“And you? When will you realize that you will not win against them? They are giving you a hard time, if I heard correctly.” 

“Hmpf. Weatherlaw is just a small setback. A little plague that I will eradicate once and for all.” 

“For a little setback, it gives you a lot of trouble. Yet she has nothing while you have everything you need to kill her. Like what, technology is not everything, Yung.” replied Flores with a grin.  

Merlina frowned and without saying another word, she pulled out a gun and fired. The bullet hit the wall inches from Flores' head. The latter looked out of the corner of her eye at the hole in the wall, telling herself that if she had moved a few centimetres, the bullet would have ended up between her two eyes.  

“I strongly advise you to hold your tongue, Lupe Flores. It would be a shame to be six feet underground, wouldn't it?” said Merlina.  

“You’re twisted.” responds Flores.  

“And you speak too much. If I were you, I would stop placing my futile hopes on a small group of fugitives.  But after all... You were too, weren't you? Keep in mind that if you go out of here one day, it will be in a coffin.” 

Flores glared at Merlina Yung, who without flinching put her gun in her holster. The two women exuded a murderous aura towards each other. Like two lionesses ready to kill each other for a territory.  

“You won't take it to heaven, you can be sure of that.” said Flores.  

“That's good. I don't expect to go to heaven anyway. Goodbye Flores.” responds Merlina.  

With these last words, Merlina departed, followed closely by her close guard. If someone tries anything on her, he or she will end up with a bullet on each part of the body. Might as well avoid tempting the devil in this case. The other prisoners looked at her as coldly as ever. And among them, Adam. Merlina stopped for a few seconds to observe him, before smirking at him and leaving. Adam gritted his teeth, praying that Sonya would make it out alive. If anything were to happen to her, he would never forgive himself.  

“Increase security. Especially on Flores. And if she tries anything, don't skimp on punishment. Got it?” said Merlina.  

“Yes Madam.” said the soldiers.  

 Henry, the former prime minister and Flores' friend, was in the cell next to Flores'. He wasn't in better condition than her, but he was still alive, that's the main thing. He pressed himself against the walls that separated his cell from Flores'.  

“Lupe? Are you still alive?” he asks.  

“Yeah...but for how long?” responds Flores.  

“That woman is twisted. And in addition to Tyrak, if we managed to get out of here, it we will be a miracle.” 

“Oh, but we will Henry. We will.”  

“How?”  

“Don’t worry about it. Stay focus on staying alive.” 

“Heh, I’ll try my best.” replied Henry, chuckling. “I can't believe that our only salvation is a group composed mainly of criminals, a journalist, A kid, Campbell and a little explorer who gives Yung a hard time. It's not really the team of heroes that everyone expects. Especially since they are all wanted too.”  

“Exactly, Henry. It is where you least expect it, in the most unlikely place, that you find the real heroes of a country. It’s not enough to have a good life and what it takes to allow a country to live in peace. You must have heart. Wealth and good health are worthless if we have no heart” said Flores looking at the ceiling of her cell.  

“And sometimes, my dear Henry...yes sometimes...Those who are poorest are those who are most inclined to do anything to help. It is those who have known everything who are willing to donate every fiber of their body to help others.  But the most important thing Henry is...That it is not the holiest among us who are human. No Henry...” 

It is those who have experienced the worst torment, see things beyond cruelty, survived to all the trials life gives them, but who found the strength to fight and give all the love they have... 

who are the most human. 

*** 

(Baldur’s Gate 3 is amazing. It's one of those many games that I don't want to finish just so I can play it indefinitely. Yes, I know, I can do it as many times as I want, like Hogwarts Legacy, but this feeling is always stronger. And then we don't feel the same intensity when we already finish the game a first time, don't you think? I hope you’ll like it like the other ones! Feel free to tell me what you think about it! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya!)  

[smutstationchoochoo]

Desperate

COD Men x FemReader

Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.

Word count: ~3.6k

A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.

Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)

Banner credit: @cafekitsune

You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.

The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.

The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.

You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room. 

You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…

Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.

No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.

  Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?”  His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”

Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.

“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.

 You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-

But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.

“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.

He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.

“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.

 His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.

It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?  

You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.

The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.

The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment.  It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?

He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.  

He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.

His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.

He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up.  Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.

“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.

“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.

His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”

Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.

He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”

Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.

“Yes.”

This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.

You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.

“Well, I did say next time.”

This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)

[celticcatgirl2]

Oh what I’d give to be in a Yuri Square with them….

(Sample Yuri square for reference)

[jackabbot]

ST. DENIS MEDICAL 1.14 • Listen to Your Ladybugs

[spiritualweapons]

You’re not born queer, you begin working as a Manhattan sex crimes ADA and you become queer.

[drop-dead-dropout]

@plague-agent I DID IT I DID THE THING!!! sorry it took so long I literally ended up rewriting the whole thing and adding a semi-hopeful ending and it turned into a 2.2k words oneshot 😭😭😭 thanks for the motivation lol!!

ANYWAYS OVERLY ANGSTY KIMHARRY ONESHOT UNDER THE CUT SFHJFJNSYXGJVHB

edit: HELP I KEEP ADDING THINGS. KDJDHSNB WHATEVER IT'S MORE LIKE 2.5K WORDS NOW

"Really? Of all the things you could've put in there?"

You look up from your chocolate ice cream, into which you've decided to unceremoniously dump an entire bag of potato chips. "But I don't remember what I used to like with my ice cream! This could've been my favorite, for all I know!"

Kim wrinkles his nose in obvious disgust. "I seriously doubt that, detective," he mumbles, before raising a spoonful of tiramisu to his lips. He hums pleasantly at the taste. "I'm glad we came back here. This tiramisu has certainly redeemed that awful blueberry pie from last time."

"Hey, it's not the baker's fault he didn't account for your ridiculous sweet tooth! Honestly, Kim, shame on you, blaming an honest working-class business owner..." You shake your head sternly, as if telling off a misbehaved child.

DRAMA — You're a terrible actor, but it serves you well here. Kim finds it endearing.

COMPOSURE [Success] - Though his ears flush at the mention of his "sweet tooth"— an aspect of himself he finds silly and immature. He coughs awkwardly and goes back to his tiramisu, a bit too embarrassed to continue the conversation.

As you often do when silence lulls between the two of you for any stretch of time, you find yourself saying, "Hey. Hey, Kim. Tell me a secret, Kim."

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. "Honestly, I'd think you knew enough about me by now."

"Never! As long as there are still things left to know, I'm going to keep asking."

EMPATHY — He gives you an odd look when you say that. I shouldn't be surprised by his curiosity anymore, he thinks, or his sincerity, for that matter. But sometimes...

He clears his throat. "Yes, well. Sometimes, it's good to not know everything."

You gasp playfully. "Fuck you, that's, like, the most mysterious thing you could've said! Now I want to know even more!"

"That's too bad," Kim says, sipping demurely at a cup of hot chocolate. "Since I won't be telling you."

With a frustrated groan, you take a bite of your ice cream. "Oh, hey! It's actually not bad!" As you tear into your dessert, Kim merely rolls his eyes with an unmistakable fondness.

SUGGESTION — Psst, Harry, over here. You're always asking Kim for secrets, but you don't really seem to get anywhere. Why not just ask us?

I can do that?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Success] — Oh yes, Harry-boy. Give me a turn, I could tell you all about speedfreak Kitsuragi over here. Did you know he pierced his—

VOLITION [Success] — No no, nothing like that. Please, not when he's right there. I don't trust our ability to keep our face neutral. No offense, Composure.

COMPOSURE — None taken. Trust me, I know better than anyone, it's a shitshow in here.

LOGIC — You could ask another one of us, though. I'm sure there's some sort of reasonable compromise here, it doesn't have to be inappropriate sexual fantasies or nothing.

You take another bite of ice cream, trying your best not to look like a deranged lunatic staring off into space. Kim doesn't look too concerned, though— he's used to this, and he appreciates the moments of mutual quiet, too. So what sort of things could you guys tell me? Which one of you should I pick?

SHIVERS [Success] — I could tell you about his life. I witnessed his childhood firsthand: summers and birthdays, mostly spent poor and alone. If you wanted, I could tell you things even he doesn't know— about the parents he never met, two young communard revolutionaries in love. I could tell you how they were killed, and who killed them, too.

SAVOIR FAIRE — Okay, that sounds like a huge bummer. Do me a favor and don't pick that one.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Success] — I could tell you about how he organizes his thoughts, lists and compartments and pages upon pages of notes, both in his notebook and, when it's not available, in his head. I've spent a lot of time pondering what it's like in there, and I think I've got an accurate guess.

INTERFACING — I like this one. It's not quite as interesting as ms. war-and-bloodshed's idea, but it's still good. Besides, learning how Kim approaches problem-solving might actually make us a better detective.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Success] — I could tell you how he feels about you. As a partner, of course, anything more than that is beyond my area of expertise.

EMPATHY [Success?] — …

Woah, what's up with that?

EMPATHY [Failure] — I could tell you more. But... No, I'm sorry, I don't think I will. I can't be the one to show you the inner workings of his heart, I just can't, not when I know exactly how badly he wants to remain unseen. It would hurt too much.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — That's too bad. But hey, my offer's still on the table—

VOLITION [Success] — Behave.

1. — Turn to Kim. "The voices are currently offering to explain all your secrets to me, by the way. So there." (Do not say this???)

2. — [Shivers — Legendary] Tell me about Kim's life.

-1 Way too depressing to think about on some random Sunday

3. — [Visual Calculus — Legendary] Tell me about the way Kim thinks.

+1 Actually useful?? You know, for our job???

-> 4. — [Esprit De Corps — Godly] Tell me about how Kim feels about me. As a partner.

+1 Professional rapport

+1 More than professional (you guys are pretty good friends by now, right?)

+2 You still remember the way his voice shook as you bled out in his arms

5. — [Empathy — Impossible] No, I want more than that. Tell me more.

-3 It's not happening, Harry. I won't do it.

6. — [Electrochemistry — Heroic] No, no, tell me more about this "speedfreak Kitsuragi" stuff.

-1 Volition is disappointed in you

+1 You really do want to know, though

7. — Actually, maybe I shouldn't do this. (Leave)

HALF-LIGHT [Success] — WAIT! Don't pick that one, please. It's dangerous. It's going to hurt.

REACTION SPEED — What? That one seems like one of the less dangerous options, actually. What are you freaking out for?

ENDURANCE — Ugh, don't listen to that thing. It's just a mangy little dog that jumps at its own shadow.

INLAND EMPIRE [Success] — The shadow is dark and cold, and it wraps itself around the one you love, its fingers coated in yellowish-white grains of sand, but it will turn him blue. You cannot save him.

RHETORIC — ... What are you even talking about? There's no sand here. We're in Central Jamrock, not Iilmara.

1. — This is getting weird. (Pick a different one.)

-> 2. — No, I'll stick with my first choice.

[CHECK SUCCESS]

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Success] — Oh, no... Harry, I'm so sorry. This was supposed to be the safe option. Just a quick peek into his psyche to see what he thinks of working with you. If I'd known it would be something like this, I never would've...

What, does he hate me or something?

EMPATHY [Success] — Don't say that. Please don't say that... You have no idea how much pain I'm in. You have no idea how wrong you are.

ESPRIT DE CORPS — When Pryce first assigned him as your partner, after a few weeks of begging, you heard Lieutenant Kitsuragi mumble something under his breath. You weren't paying attention at the time, too excited to care, but you did hear him, in the back of your mind:

PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Success] — "I won't live through the death of another partner," he'd whispered to himself.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Success] — He'd briefly glanced back at you as he'd said it, almost nervous, his small smile tensing at the corners like he'd suddenly had to fake it.

LOGIC [Success] — He wasn't saying he didn't want to be your partner. Clearly he did, because he is.

EMPATHY [Success] — It was worse than that, so much worse... A promise to himself.

INLAND EMPIRE [Success] — He would only do it if you were gone. Ghosts can't save anyone.

INLAND EMPIRE — You cannot save him.

[-1 MORALE]

HALF-LIGHT — I told you it was going to hurt.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Success] — Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi is a practical man, more concerned with privacy and efficiency than anything else. He would never drive his beloved Kineema into a ravine, for example— instead, three bottles sit in a lonely box in his bathroom cabinet: cimetidine, metoclopramide, and sodium nitrite.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Success] — The first two are just over-the counter drugs. Their only purpose is to counteract the side effects of the latter.

PAIN THRESHOLD — A small comfort he would allow himself in death.

ESPRIT DE CORPS — None of them have been opened since their purchase three years ago, but if ever he felt the need, he would not hesitate to do it.

EMPATHY [Success] — No. He would hesitate. Even if just for a minute, the weight of it all would be difficult for him to shake. Kim Kitsuragi is a man with an incredibly strong survival instinct; it's just how he's wired. In that moment, he would feel as though time itself was slowing down as he struggled to move through the thick miasma of dread and fear, like swimming upriver through the Esperance. But it would not be enough to stop him.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Success] — His extremities would be blue in minutes. He would be dead within hours, at most.

[-1 MORALE]

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Success] — You wonder, did his hands shake when he purchased these supplies? Did his eyes shine with the thin film of unshed tears when he packed them away in that cabinet? Did he even let himself cry?

COMPOSURE — Or was he as calm as ever, save for the slightest difference in the set of his jaw?

VOLITION — Does it even matter? Either way, he is not nearly as sane as you believe him to be.

ESPRIT DE CORPS — Don't feel too bad for not noticing. He prefers it that way.

EMPATHY [Success] — And do you want to know the worst part? He's happy. He really is, Harry. He loves being your partner and he loves being here, with you. This is just what happiness looks like to him. How it's always looked, since...

INTERFACING [Success] — He refuses to let himself be happy without an exit strategy. One foot out the door. A finger on the eject button. Just in case.

[-1 MORALE]

HALF-LIGHT — Whatever fancy thing you want to call it won't change the fact that he's in DANGER. We need to help him!

EMPATHY — No. You were never meant to see this. Any of this.

SUGGESTION — And besides, what exactly are you going to say? Accusing a random person of wanting to kill themselves, specifically of wanting to kill themselves in response to you dying— it would make you look like a delusional egomaniac at best.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Success] — Lieutenant Kitsuragi is NOT a random person! He's our partner. What even are we if we can't protect our own partner?!

HAND-EYE COORDINATION [Failure] — He asks himself the same question, every single night.

[!] [MORALE CRITICAL] [!]

EMPATHY — Stop it! Please, you're hurting me! I can't take this anymore—

INLAND EMPIRE [Failure] — YOU CANNOT SAVE HIM, HARRIER. YOU CAN'T SAVE HIM YOU CAN'T SAVE HIM YOU CAN'T—

"Detective?" Kim is shaking your shoulder, looking a little worried. "Apologies. I usually don't interrupt you when you're..." Communing with the voices in your head, he doesn't say. "... But you started crying. Here, I have some magnesium— you can take it with your potato chip ice cream abomination." He smiles a little, and you know he's just trying to cheer you up.

SUGGESTION — And because you are a pathetically easy creature, it works on you.

[+1 MORALE]

Grinning back at him even as tears continue to well up in your eyes, you down the magnesium with a spoonful of your ice cream. The chips are soggy by now, and it tastes much worse than before, but the magnesium does its job.

Kim huffs a quiet laugh at the disgruntled look on your face. "That bad, huh? Well, I won't say 'I told you so'."

-> 1. — [Volition — Impossible] Stay calm.

2. — [Pain Threshold — Legendary] Punch yourself in the mouth. You won't be able to say anything if you're missing teeth.

[CHECK FAILURE]

VOLITION [Failure] — I'm sorry. It was never going to happen.

"Kim, y-you wouldn't—" Your fragile smile crumples like wet paper as a sob wrenches itself from your chest.

Immediately, Kim's eyes widen, and his hand tightens on your shoulder. Protective. "Harry," he says, softly, too softly, almost like it's not something you were meant to hear at all. Then: "We should get out of here. I was planning to let you stay at mine anyways. Hopefully my couch won't start calling you names, like last time— I was sure to give it a stern talking-to, you know," he adds, forcing levity into his voice.

EMPATHY [Success] — He cares about you so much. It's going to break you.

INLAND EMPIRE [Failure] — We can't save him. I'm sorry, we just can't, there's nothing we can—

HALF-LIGHT — nopleasenonononono—

VOLITION [Success] — You're wrong. Both of you are wrong. We're not helpless, and he's not hopeless. There is still time to fix this.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Success] — Go with him. You know what you need to do.

"Of course," you croak out, wiping your face with a napkin. "Thank you, Kim."

—

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Success] — The next morning, long after his partner has left, Lieutenant Kitsuragi stumbles out of the shower and puts on his glasses. He opens the bathroom cabinet to look for his razor, so he can shave the patchy stubble under his chin— only to blink in surprise when he sees that a familiar box, tucked away in the back, is open and empty.

EMPATHY [Success] — He feels so many things at once that it's almost as if he feels nothing at all.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Success] — But it's not nothing, is it? It can't be nothing. If it was nothing, it wouldn't hurt this much. If it was nothing, there wouldn't be any hope.

EMPATHY [Success] — He allows himself to cry. Quiet and subdued, but even still, it's the first time he's cried in far too long. And it's awful and cathartic and miserable and furious and so, so afraid, but if you were to turn the lights off, you might see the tiniest spark in his lungs, the faint glow of something terrifying he can't quite smother. The ghost of his younger self pounding its fists against his ribcage, screaming as if begging for its life—

INLAND EMPIRE [Success] — LOVED LOVED WE ARE LOVED WE ARE WANTED WE ARE CARED FOR WE CAN BE SAFE AND HAPPY AND LOVED—

SHIVERS [Success] — Staring blankly at an empty cardboard box in his bathroom, a 44-year-old man lets himself cry openly for the first time in approximately two thousand, one hundred and ninety-six days. After all, he reasons, no one is there. No one can see the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes and sliding down his face.

EMPATHY [Success] — No one except you.

[lxvvie]

Something domestic I could think about is trying to to build IKEA furniture. Who’s throwing the manual away just to fish it out of the bin? Who’s the one that has five screws left at the end and doesn’t know where they go?

The ones who follow the manual to a tee:

Price

Ghost

Alejandro

Rudy

Kyle

Roach

Farah

The ones who go fuck it and ball:

Soap

Also Kyle (depending on if he's put together something similar)

König

Horangi (are we surprised?)

Valeria (because she can't be bothered)

Graves (because he's god tier levels of genius 😒)

Keegan

Alex Keller

The ones who "accidentally" threw the manual away and have to fish it out of the trash:

Also Soap

Also Kyle

Absolutely, positively König

Sometimes Graves (but he'll never tell you this)

The ones who'll pull rank and make someone else put the furniture together:

Also Ghost

Very much Graves

Adler

Valeria

...Rudy lmao.

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Star Wars: Legion - Imperial Royal Guards Unit Expansion box art by Alex Kim

[cod-dump]

How old are they in the teen au?? Do their ages follow canon more (Ghost prolly being oldest, Farah or Gaz youngest) or did you make up your own order?

It's been a minute since I posted their official ages:

Simon is 16 going on 17, I want to have him have a birthday party at some point

Kyle is 15 going on 16, also want to have a birthday for him

Farah is 18 (she gives big sister vibes, also wanted Simon to be a middle child)

Gary is 10/11, he's pretty small so people think he's younger

Johnny is 15 (not sure about a birthday for him yet)

Alejandro is 17/18

Rudy is 16/17

Hong-Jin is 15/16

Alex is 17

[seoulcity-batman]

how fucking crazy is it that i get to update this & tell y'all HIGH4:20 is back! (under a new name)

[chayacat]

Road96: Shandara’s Land (9)

Fandom: Road96

Rated M for Language and Violence.  

***

Ah, the Repentie... One of the symbols of Petria. This river, crossing the whole country in its own way, finds its starting point at Mont National. During Flores' election, the latter had completely cleaned it, to make the place more beautiful than it was before. No one really knows who gave it that name, or why. But one thing is certain, the sight of these places still takes your breath away. Anna can't help but look with admiration at the beauty of these places. It's as if time has stopped. And yet he continues his race. She could spend hours contemplating the view before her. But unfortunately, she has a mission to accomplish. 

“Wow...what a view. Petria is truly a beautiful country, when you know where to look.” said Anna in awe.  

“Yeah...if you say so.” said Sonya. “So, what are we looking for exactly?”

“An entrance. A passage, something that can help us to find the next Shandarian place.”

“Okay. Then let’s get to work. Girls.” replied Sonya, looking at Anna and Fanny.  

*Mom? Do you receive me? * Asks Alex through the talkie.  

“Yes baby, I got you 5 on 5.” responds Fanny.  

*Moooom! I'm not a baby anymore! ...forget it. For now, you’re all alone. No enemies around. But be careful, those guys can be pretty sneaky. *  

“Don’t worry about it, Alex. We’ll be careful.”

*I should have come with you. Please stay safe, okay? * Said Stan worried.  

“Don’t worry Stan. I know how to defend myself.”

*That is what worries me the most. *

“Hey! I heard that!”

*Fair and square Sis* said Mitch.

“Pfft...yeah...fair and square.”

The three women advanced along the lake that had formed at the foot of the mountain. They looked everywhere for a clue, a symbol that could help them on the way forward. But for the moment, nothing very conclusive. It was almost disappointing.  

“I may have been wrong... I must have made a miscalculation...” said Anna sadly.  

“Hey. Don’t start. We haven't searched everything yet. There is a cave under the waterfall. Maybe we will find something?” said Sonya.

“A cave? Under the waterfall?”  

“Yes. Teenage runaways hid here before attempting to cross the border when Tyrak was in power. Well, teenagers... There were families even...” said Fanny.  

“Tyrak was really a monster.” replied Anna.  

“Oh, you don’t say. He could have been capable of the worst... although he was capable of the worst just to keep control over his people. And we just had to... shut up and obey.” said Sonya, sadly.  

“Yeah, you right...” said Fanny. “Come on, let’s get moving.”  

The three women went to the cave under the waterfall. It was covered with graffiti which represented the remnants of the rebellion against Tyrak. Others appealed to the voice of the people. And still others claimed their freedom of thought.  

“All these people... Did they manage to cross the border?” asks Anna

“I don’t know. Maybe some...but maybe some didn’t. Maybe some of them died at trying to. All I hope, is that they’re fine, wherever they are.” Said Fanny.  

“I remember that one day, I met a young girl who wanted to try to cross the border... She wanted to do it so she could help her family live better. I hope... that she succeeded.” said Sonya.  

“I hope so.” said Anna. She then sees something strange between the graffities “wait...”  

She walked to the wall and touch the strange symbol delicately with her hand. She had never seen this kind of symbol before. She took out her notebook and began to study it. As she began to look closer, a strange bluish light escaped from the wall, heading towards the next room. The three girls looked at each other before following the ray that touched the wall at the back of the other room.  

“I really feel like I'm in an adventure movie... or science fiction.” said Sonya.  

“And yet it is very real. It looks like there are other symbols on the other facades of the room. I think that if the light ray touches these symbols... The passage will open to us.” said Anna.  

“And how do we do it?”  

“...do you have a mirror with you?” replied Anna.  

“Well no. But I have my necklace.” said Sonya.  

“That should do the work! Can I borrow it?”  

Sonya took off her necklace and handed it to Anna. The latter placed it against the wall and directed the light ray against one of the walls. Then with her other hand she took out a pocket mirror. She handed it to Fanny, who once in hand, used the mirror to direct the beam to the other wall opposite. A rumble was heard, and suddenly the ground under their feet trembled, creating an opening, stairs appeared, descending deeper underground.  

“Wow...It’s so cool.” said Sonya.  

“Do you think we'll be safe underneath?” asks Fanny.  

“There’s only one way to know.” said Anna beofre going down the stairs.  

Fanny and Sonya exchanged glances before following Anna. The torches embedded in the wall lit up little by little, as the descent progressed. Then, once downstairs, they faced a huge door, as for the garden gate. It was larger, more imposing, gilded engravings running through its surface, and made of a stone that was foreign to the rock that surrounded it.

“How are we going to open it?” said Fanny.  

“The real question is HOW did YOU manage to open the garden gate?” said Sonya looking at Anna.  

“I don’t know...I just...touch the door and then...” she said putting her hand on the door.  

And like the first time, the door lit up before slowly opening. The three women stepped back, watching the door open in front of them in surprise. Sonya looked at Anna in surprise.

“Are you a witch or something?? Because this is going to scare me a lot if you do things like that every time!” she said.  

“I don’t know! I don’t...” Anna starts before looking at her necklace. The blue stone on it glows a little, before fading away. “What in the name of...”  

“Are you okay Peachfuzz? Is there something wrong?” asks Fanny, worried.

“I... I am. Let's go.”  

“All...All right.”  

All three entered the room. The door closed behind them. In front of them, huge libraries, filled with parchments so old, that they would be almost frightening to touch them, for fear of damaging them. They were all in awe, not even one of them dared to say a word. Then after a while, Sonya broke the silence.  

“Daggnabit...This place... It is the historian's paradise. Can you imagine all the stories that must be here?” She spoke.  

“Not just the stories, Sonya. Research, tales, legends, traditions, technologies... Everything was recorded here... it is much bigger than the Library of Alexandria... It's... It is wonderful to see such a place as intact as it was in its time. Look at this. It seems that, as with the gardens, time has stopped here.” said Anna.  

“How...how did they managed to do all that?” asks Fanny.  

“I don’t know...Shandarians were quite...something. And no one knows anything about them. Apart from Merlina Yung... And me. And so do you. This is what we must protect from Yung and her group from the Purple Lynx. It is these centuries of hidden stories that could allow Petria to discover a facet of its past previously hidden from everyone.”  

“This is easier said than done, unfortunately. They will eventually find this place, as they must have found the gardens. Let's try to find clues about the next place, before we have unwanted visits.” Said Sonya.  

Anna nodded before stepping forward to look around. She absolutely had to find a clue about their next destination. But easier said than done. How do you find something in such a big place? You might as well look for a needle in a haystack. Fanny and Sonya did their best on their side but they were no luckier than Anna. And after a while...

“Anna! Fanny! I think I found something!” said Sonya.  

The two women joined Sonya and looked at the wall in front of them. Anna smiled heartily. She took out her notebook and began to write down the inscriptions on the wall meticulously, not forgetting any symbols. Then she closed her notebook.  

“Good job Sonya. I hope that with this we will have information about our next destination.” said Anna happily.  

Suddenly the talkie turned on. And Alex spoke. But given his voice, it wasn't a good sign.  

*Mom! Do...*BZZZZ* copy Me ??* He said.

“I’m here baby! What's going on?” said Fanny.  

*BZZZ* *Yung.... *BZZZ* -diers, are com*BZZZ* to you! You must *BZZZZ* of here! *  

“Alex? Alex??” Alex, do you hear me?? Alex !!” replied Fanny. “Damnit! We must get out of here! Right now!”  

“But how?? Apart from the door through which we entered, there is no other exit! We're stuck! And if they see us, we're screwed!” said Sonya.  

“There must be another exit! We just must find it! Let's go!” Said Anna.  

Suddenly, knocks were heard at the door. They are already there. And they will do anything to get inside. If they want to make it out alive, they will have to find a solution. and fast. Either they find another way out. Either they must fight. But faced with the troop waiting for them behind these doors, do they even have a chance? Probably. But it is very thin.  

Flee or fight? That is the question.  

But a more important question comes to mind. No matter what they choose...

Will they survive? Or will they die?  

If they do not act quickly, the answer will be clear. And they won’t like it.  

***  

(Summer is coming and it's starting to make itself felt. And in 2 days I take another year. Enough to finish me with the XD work. But hey you must hang on! And staying hydrated is also important! I hope you’ll like it like the other ones! Feel free to tell me what you think about it! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya!)  

[honeydewtual]

Yoohyeon - Bon Voyage (230531)