#call of duty mw19

[mellounir]

a bit more practice Soaps of different kinds

you know where to find full pics

[underneathsoldiers]

When you ended up in the hospital, you hoped Nikto would abandon you.

Mostly because you didn’t want Nikto to hijack the hospital and enter a manic conspiracy phase. Again.

Yet, this time you felt crazy. You didn’t recognize him at first, wearing a navy blue hood with a blue mask on. The shadows over his eyes were what identified him. He could’ve been a hallucination, but the nurses walked around him. They seemed to know better than to pay attention to him. Afraid to touch him.

“Did you scare them?” You asked. He startled up and you felt a little bad that your first words after waking up was an accusation.

His pupils dilated as he caressed your cheek, tension leaving his body to be replaced with relief and adoration, “Don’t do this to me again.”

“Answer the question,” you insisted. You knew that you couldn’t reform him, but you wanted to at least have him return to society.

“You almost died. Don’t worry about that now,” he kissed your lips softly. At your glare, he relented: “I only yelled at them with threats. They assumed I was a hysterical husband.”

“Because you are hysterical,” you said and it provoked a chuckle from him.

[2dnova]

ghoap my beloveds ✨

Maybe Gaz and Price next hmmmm???

Drawn 9/6/24 and 29/5/24

[imallergictomyself]

Nikolai who expresses himself in cooking. Nikolai who likes to make his Jonathan a different russian soup every night. Nikolai who watches every bob of the other man’s throat, Nikolai who can’t rest until he knows his partner is well-fed. Nikolai who memorised every single reaction John has to his cooking. Nikolai who stays up all night if the reaction isn’t positive.

John who grew up poor. John who grew up eating what he was given. John who doesn’t know what to do now this beautiful man is in his home cooking for him, offering him all the choice in the world. John who simply wraps his hands around the other’s waist as he almost *bounces* around the kitchen. John who pretends to be asleep and not to notice his partner searching for new recipes.

Nikolai who’s scared he’s forgetting himself. Nikolai who somedays struggles to identify himself with his home country. Nikolai who keeps himself rooted via his cuisine and his cuisine alone.

John who opens the other’s computer at night, opens the cookbooks he’s dog-eared, and makes sure all the ingredients are in the house for him. John who used to say ‘no thanks I’ll just order food’ but learnt the way the other’s demeanour deflated. John who tells their friends of his partner’s amazing cooking.

[meepmeepmeep1011111]

Can everyone keep politics out of the FANDOMS. No one cared if you voted for kamala or trump. No one cares that you hate Trump or Kamala.

It's sad to see people telling each other to kill themselves over who they voted for. And everyone should be ashamed of themselves, we are supposed to be a united front.

Just keep politics out of fandoms please. I don't want to read about trump or kamala while I'm trying to read some good publishing.

[cumikering]

Alex Keller x tatted reader

3.6k | smut, deepthroat Alex discovers your piercings

Slow Saturdays were rare for Alex, especially ones when he had the energy to be out and about. That sunny evening, he’d decided on a cup of coffee, one from the charming cafe with the second-hand bookstore attached to it near his place.

Despite the café being almost empty, the barista apologised in advance for the delay of his drink as they were backed up by a massive takeaway order. As he waited, Alex headed to the atrium where the books were. If he was lucky, he’d find a read to accompany his coffee.

In the history section, there you were in a flowing summer dress, brows furrowed in concentration. His steps faltered as he neared, and pretty eyes looked up to him from the book you held.

“Scuse me,” he muttered.

You gave him a polite smile and turned to the shelf to allow him space.

He squeezed behind you, and it was a pleasant surprise to discover that your dress was backless, showing off the sword tattoo down your spine.

A fan of body art, like he was.

How bad was it that he turned to catch another glimpse? Instead, he was gifted with another sight. The bodice of your dress hugged your figure, emphasising the way your hips jutted out as you leaned against the shelf.

He wanted to know your name. It was a sudden thought, and ill-mannered, but it was only natural to want to put a name to such an attractive woman, no?

Was he allowed start a conversation? The focus on your face certainly wasn’t encouraging, and he wasn’t that kind of person, but he could say something. Maybe something about the title you were holding – that was a safe conversation starter, right?

He bargained with himself for a few seconds before bottling up his wish. He minded his own business by browsing the section as he’d intended.

“Hey,” you called, making him turn to you.

Fuck, she knows, she knows.

You smiled kindly at him. “Sorry to bother, but do you mind if I ask for recs?”

He cleared his throat, closing the book in hand. “Sure, I’d be happy to help if I can.”

“I’m looking for a gift for a friend. She just got into history, and I figured you’d know better than me.” You laughed, nodding at the hardcover he was skimming through. “Could you recommend something?”

“Of course.” He smiled, noting how pleasant your laughter was. “So something a little light…” He leaned in to scan the spines of the books. “Is there anything specific she’s interested in?”

“Nope, she said to surprise her with anything from this shop. It’s her favourite.”

He laughed. “It is my favourite too. They make good coffee.”

“So I heard.”

After scanning the rest of the section, he picked out two titles. “I’ve read these, and I can recommend them. This is more economic history-“ he lifted the one in his right hand then his left- “and this is more environmental.”

You pointed at the second one. “That sounds good. I think she’d like it.”

“This one it is.” He handed you the book, putting the other back.

“Thanks so much for your help. I would have been stuck here for a while otherwise.”

He turned to you, the way you smiled up at him took the words out of his mouth. With the proximity, it wasn’t weird he noticed how good you smelt, right?

“Americano for Alex,” the female barista called.

You glanced at her at the counter. “Is that you? Sorry for taking up your time. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Don’t worry about it, was just killing time.” He paused before blurting, “Can I buy you a coffee?”

You tilted your head, your smile turned teasing. “What if I feel like tea?”

“Anything you want.”

“Pick something for me.”

While you paid for your book, he placed your order before leading you to his favourite table in the corner of the shop.

You nodded at his forearm as he stirred his iced coffee. “I like your sleeves.”

“Thank you. These are really old, from all over the place.” He chuckled scanning his inked arms, thinking of the random shops he’d visited out of the boredom from being deployed in a quiet area too long.

“You’ve got more?”

“On my back, yeah.” I don’t mind showing you. “Yours is very nice too.”

You smiled. “What about piercings, are you-“

The waitress placed your matcha latte on the table. You lit up, thanking her before turning to the forest green drink.

“It’s so pretty! Thanks again, Alex,” you said before having a try. “Oh, that’s really good. It’s bright, but earthy, a little bitter. Reminds me a bit of chocolate actually.”

“I like their matcha too, but felt more like coffee today.”

You took another sip with great delight before scrunching your face. “Just had a brain freeze,” you said with a small laugh. “It’s really good, but really cold too.”

“Happens to me too.” He smiled, admiring you. He shouldn’t want to look at you so much, but you were beautiful with your expressive eyes and teasing smiles that he couldn’t help it. “You were asking about piercings?“

His gaze lowered to his glass as he took a sip. Instead, he choked on his coffee. He barely managed to mask it as a cough as he almost had a heart attack.

Under your dress, your nipples had hardened. He shouldn’t have been surprised you were braless in the attire, but it wasn’t that – the barbells on either side of your nubs were visible against the fabric.

Alex was going to pass out. If he wasn’t sitting, he’d have collapsed.

He certainly didn’t have to ask about your stance on piercings.

His blue eyes darted away, unsure where to avert his gaze. His throat felt dry as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry, I’m alright now.” You smiled, seemingly none the wiser about what he’d just experienced. “Oh, I wanted to ask, how did you get into history?”

“Right-“ he swallowed, blinking away the daze. “It was my bunkmate, he was a history buff.”

“Bunkmate?”

“Yeah, in bootcamp, army. Didn’t have much to do and read his books. Been hooked ever since.”

“You’re still in the army?”

“Moved to another unit, but yeah, still in the military. What about you, what do you read?”

Listening to you made him smile, but his loose white shirt only grew heavier, like it was sticking to his skin. The room seemed to have turned blistering hot.

Your puckered lips were dangerous as you sipped your drink. It was an innocent act, but it brought his mind into dark pits.

It was embarrassing – it wasn’t like he had never seen a woman before, so why was he acting this way? But the discomfort in his jeans only increased. Would he get the chance to readjust inconspicuously under this tiny table? Okay, maybe if he just moved his foot-

“Ow,” you winced when he stepped on your toes.

“Fuck- I’m so sorry.”

You stooped down to inspect your foot, but it only revealed your cleavage. It took another second before he remembered to cross his legs, an attempt to hide the state of him. He couldn’t risk you thinking he was some weirdo.

“Are you okay?” He glanced at your feet, clad in strappy sandals. “I’m really sorry.”

You straightened up, telling him you were fine with a reassuring smile. As the talk continued, Alex managed to diffuse his situation. You were funny, inquisitive as you discussed his interests, like you genuinely cared what he was into. It didn’t feel like a one-sided conversation and he didn’t want it to end.

His glass had long gone empty, but he didn’t realise how long you’d been there until you sipped the last of your latte.

He should offer you another one. Did it make him a degenerate, how much he liked the effect it had on you? But you liked it so much - how could he not want to see such a pretty smile on your face?

“Can I get you something else?”

“Thanks so much, but I don’t want to be too full for dinner.”

“We can get something to eat if you want. I drove, so we can go anywhere.”

Was he being too obvious? He certainly didn’t want to be pushy, but he wasn’t the only one feeling it, was he? At least, he was allowed to try his luck, right?

You agreed on a nearby restaurant, something a walking distance. When you stepped out onto the pavement, he turned to you.

“I don’t mean to be too forward, but may I ask for your num-“

“How come you haven’t kissed me yet?” you dared with a smile.

He laughed, looking away. You didn’t have to call him out like that. He could only wish the embarrassment didn’t manifest into a blush.

“Didn’t want to be rude,” he muttered, a hand on your waist as he stepped in.

You fisted his shirt, pulling him close, lips crashing against his.

In the hour he’d had the pleasure to sit in front of you, he’d imagined what you’d taste like: how soft and sweet you’d be. As he’d discovered, you were all that and more. But oh, how did you know he’d wanted to? Was he that easy to read?

You pulled away, a little breathless wearing an amused smile. What were you doing, fucking him with your eyes like that? Were you trying to kill him?

Your eyes flicked to his lips, hand sliding down his chest. “Would it be okay if we postpone dinner?”

The drive to yours wasn’t long, but the way your hand massaged his thigh made it feel much longer.

You led him by the hand to yours, your smile – a mix of assertiveness and youthful bounce – made his heart race. He didn’t know what it was about you, if it was your bold eyes or your energy, but it stirred something in him from the very start. You knew what you wanted, and it would be his pleasure to give whatever it was to you.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you anymore. As soon as you shut the door, he pushed you against it, lips meeting yours. He gripped your waist, massaging it as he committed your shape into memory. You pulled him in by his belt loop, your other hand tracing the bulge forming in his jeans before resting your hand on the base of his neck.

The friction against his cock was delicious, and you must have thought so too with the way you rolled your hips against him. He traced up your side, ghosting over the side of your breast. The image of your nubs sent a tingle down his spine.

You arching your back towards him was his green light. His thumb swiped over your nipple, already hard again. He palmed you, kneading your breast as his lips trailed down the side of your neck. You let out a breathless moan when he playfully bit down on your shoulder as he pinched a nipple.

He took his time planting kisses across your collarbones, admiring your skin, basking in your scent before licking the cuff of your ear, making you shiver. You slipped off the straps of your dress, revealing your perfect tits, nipples taut and ready for him.

He kissed down your sternum and around your areola before licking a wide strip over it. Your head tilted back when his hand massaged your other breast. He continued to suck and nip, his hot tongue flicking your bar, earning him a hiss of pleasure from you. Moving back up, he kissed the other side of your neck, but it only made you whine, grabbing his ass to pull him closer.

“Impatient, are we?” he teased against the crook of your neck.

Grasping his hair, you led him back to your lips. “Want you, Alex,” you panted between kisses.

How could he say no to you?

He sank to his knees, undoing the clasps of your strappy sandals. He gathered your dress in a hand, revealing your panties where a dark patch had formed. The sight made his cock twitch in interest. Did he do this to you? How long had you wanted this?

You held your dress up around your waist, allowing him to palm and caress your thighs. With a thumb, he swiped along your leaking slit and you let out a satisfied breath. He looked up to you biting your lip, your eyes half lidded and full of want. He planted a small kiss over your clothed clit before sliding your soaked underwear down.

The top of your clit piercing winked in the light. If he wasn’t on his knees yet, he sure would have been. You could get any hotter?

“Fuck, look at that,” he said under his breath before kissing your mound. “You keep surprising me.”

He parted your lips, revealing the entire piercing, dripping with your juices. He pursed his lips around it, sucking gently. You let out a pleased sigh, tilting your head back against the wall. His tongue flicked the vertical bar, swirling around it as his fingers ghosted over your drenched opening, coating himself in your wetness. Your hips bucked towards him. You were ready, needy.

He guided your leg over his shoulder, tongue unrelenting as he pushed two fingers in. You gasped, clenching around him, soaking him further. He palmed your ass, squeezing as he pulled you into him, wanting more of you.

The wet noises and you muffled moans only urged him. His cock strained painfully against his jeans - left alone too long now - begged for a touch, but he was too busy drinking you. His hands were full, just like yours were as you pulled at his dirty blond hair, grinding onto his face.

You could only hold off your moans for so long. Another slipped past your sweet lips as your legs shook more, your pussy pulsing around him. His cock pulsed in interest, imagining it was elsewhere-

“Couch,” you said between heavy breaths.

He toed his boots off before you led him to the couch. You laid down, skin radiant and hair ruffled with your dress pooling around your waist, your perfect tits bare and pussy dripping wet for him. That look in your eyes, it was like you’d never wanted anything as much.

He settled between your legs to go back to his treat, lapping at your hole. Your hand found his hair again as he rubbed circles over your clit. When his eyes flicked up to you, you’d propped yourself up, biting down on your lip.

He slid his long fingers back in, curling upwards as he hit that spot again that made your thighs quiver. You shuddered, throwing your head back in pleasure, stifling yet another moan. The heat was pooling deep in you.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart.” He stroked your thigh with a free hand.

“I’m close,” you said breathlessly.

His gaze stayed on you and you clenched down on him.

“Give it to me, need to taste you.”

He went back to your clit, flicking and sucking, the squelching almost inaudible under the moans filling the room. Your slick only seeped out around his fingers as he picked up his pace. You were making a mess on him, one he was more than willing to clean up.

You lifted your head, watching him devour you like you were his favourite meal. He could feel it. The band was about to snap.

“Alex- right there, right there- yeah.“ You pulled his hair making him hum against you. “Keep going. Fuck, you’re going to make me c-”

Your walls spasmed around his thick fingers as you moaned, thighs shaking on his shoulders.

There was a satisfaction in watching you unravel. A woman so gorgeous giving him the honour to bring you to such a state?

His fingers slowed, letting you come down from your high. You covered your face with a hand, but it couldn’t hide the giddy smile you wore.

He climbed over you with a small laugh, rubbing your hip and thigh. “That good?” he asked, kissing you all over your cheek and temple.

You nodded, uncovering your eyes, but the bashful smile remained. His mouth and chin trickled with your juices, but you didn’t seem to care as you pulled him for a kiss. Did you like your taste on him?

Your hands slipped under his shirt, palming his muscled back before trailing down to his flexed biceps as he held himself over you. He hoped you didn’t mind the scars his tattoos couldn’t bury. Your fingertips ghosted over his abdomen, making his breath hitch, but when you pinched a nipple, he was helpless against the moan that escaped him. You smiled, like you got him where you wanted.

You undid his belt, caressing his hardened length through his underwear making him shudder. You freed his leaking cock, jerking it lightly before spreading his slick over his head with your thumb. The whine that left him allowed you to slip you tongue past his lips. Breathless, he rutted into your touch, eager for more.

You broke the kiss and pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side.

“Sit back,” you instructed.

And who was he to not listen. “Yes, maam.”

His face was burning, down to his ruddy chest like he’d had a drink too many. Alex Keller was an aching, blushing mess for you. But if the drink was you, he’d have another one in heartbeat.

You sank onto your knees between his legs, pulling his jeans down his thighs. With half-lidded eyes, he watched you: so eager for him, just like he was for you. But you already knew that from the way his cock trickled in anticipation.

The sight of you wrapping your pretty fingers around him made his head spin, and the way you stared back at him from under those lashes as you stroked him made his stomach flip. He let out a low groan when his tip slid past your lips. You flicked the underside playfully, swirling your tongue around it before sinking down on him, his length disappearing into your hot, wet throat.

He hissed, grabbing your hand on his thigh. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

You bobbed on his aching cock, cheeks hollowing as you sucked his shaft. His breath deepened. With the amount of desire pressing against his ribs, he felt too close to the end. It had been hours of him leaking and throbbing over his thoughts of you.

You pulled out with a pop, a string of saliva connecting those luscious lips to him. You planted kisses from his balls up to his red tip, your hands feeling up his hips and abs. The tingles running down his spine made him buck up against your lips.

Oh, to have him slip in and out of those perfect, glossy lips. The thought made his throat dry.

You smiled teasingly. “Impatient, are we?”

“Touche.”

He was at your mercy, but he wasn’t going to give in and beg, no matter how much he ached and twitched and flushed.

“Want you to fuck my mouth with this gorgeous cock,” you said, licking up his length.

Holy fuck. He couldn’t believe it.

He fisted your hair, heart racing as he guided you down his cock, your hands spread on his thighs. “Give me a tap and I’ll stop.”

Your throat opening up against his tip was his cue to start. He thrusted up into you, groaning as you maintained eye contact with him. You were the death of him.

To describe the sounds you both made as pornographic was an understatement. It was wet and messy as your spit dripped down his length and balls as he rutted into your mouth relentlessly. You were perfectly tight around him when your throat pulsed, pretty on your knees as he fucked that gorgeous face. The sight brought his orgasm right before him.

“Fuck, fuck,” he hissed, eyes shut in swelling pleasure. “I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

It only spurred you on: sinking deeper and deeper, nose pressing against the neat curls at his base before coming back up. Despite his hands in your hair, not once did he apply pressure on you, giving you free reign over him, letting you set your own pace.

You gripped his ass, pulling him to you and he thrusted again.

“You’re going to make me come, sweetheart,” he panted.

Your hum was his approval. When his hips stuttered as did his moans, you swallowed him all the way as he came down your throat. He tipped his head back as he grunted, pleasure washing over him.

When his cock stopped pulsing, you licked him clean and gave his tip a small kiss before coming up next to him.

With a grin, he pulled you to his chest. “Holy shit-“ he said against your temple before planting a kiss on your lips.

You laid on his chest in silence, a small smile on your face as you listened to his heartbeat even out. In the comfortable silence, he held you close as he rubbed your arm. Over his heart, he clasped his hand over yours- his stomach rumbled.

You laughed, pulling away to look at him. “Is it time for dinner?”

He drank in the kind sparkle in your eyes. “I might be greedy, but I’m more interested in dessert.”

More Alex: Masterlist Your date was interrupted Comforting his plus-sized partner Rescuing a mermaid

@tiredmetalenthusiast @indigosunsetao3 @astraluminaaa

[xxpereonn]

PMC - SHADOW COMPANY

[chief-laswell]

Anybody care to explain why there are so many military officials on Tumblr?

[pileojunk]

Tried something a lil different and less blended than I usually do and I think I actually really like it

[vataro-ko]

Something something cowboy John Price something something

[mellounir]

micro sketches with Price & Gaz just warmin' up...

Links

[mawvax]

random maceghost warm up doodles

[underneathsoldiers]

Philip Graves x reader, you both went your separate ways for two weeks and now the consequences emerge. You’re pregnant.

Warning: you a hoe

(Yes another pregnancy fic)

“What do you mean the child might not be mine?” This was not what Philip Graves expected to confront when he finally got the love of his life back.

You had just returned from the hospital from an ultrasound. Without him. You never included him in any doctor’s appointments. Philip took advantage of the lack of responsibility, until he talked to some Shadows and one brave one told him that it makes him seem like an irresponsible father.

Of course, the bastard probably meant to say that he was an irresponsible father. But those shadows aren’t going to bite the hand that feeds them— and the one with the authority to blow their heads off.

So he got agitated when you brought back the ultrasound. And then you drop the bomb that the kid might not be his.

“We broke up for two weeks,” you told him as you hold your hips next to the kitchen island. You knew this conversation would happen.

“You slept with another guy?” He said, doing that lip twitch.

You poked at his chest with hormonal driven energy, “You were out there at the club with those strippers and hoes. What the fuck am I supposed to do when one of your buddies gives me a shoulder to cry on and he just eats pussy like cake?”

He couldn’t stand to hear you say that like you were on Maury. He had to turn away from you to calm his increasing stress. Buddies. “What buddy?”

“I ain’t telling,” you said firmly. “Not until the baby’s out and I can do a test on both of you.”

“Oh, alright. So you’re going to live in my house and have some other guy’s baby?” He said, feeling more and more foolish.

“I can stay with the other guy,” you said, shrugging. Your fearlessness was shocking to Philip. You just gave less and less fucks as your pregnancy advanced. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. That was shitty. But I did keep you out of it. I used my own money for the appointments, I never asked for help. I had sex with you so that covers the rent.”

“You’re a cold blooded creature,” Philip declared as he sat down at the stool beside the island. He held his forehead. “Do you even love me?”

You pause for a moment. You thought of everything but that. “Why are you bringing up love?”

“Because I love you!” He slammed his fist on the island. He hated that he gave a damn about you. He hated you.

For the first time today, you faltered. Your anger retreated and you held your belly. “I can go.”

“No,” he muttered. “You’re not going anywhere until I know who that kid belongs to. Understand?”

It was his turn to grab the pants of the relationship. You nodded. Truth was, you would prefer to stay around until after the birth. Philip Graves was a dangerous man, but he protected you. Were you a greedy bitch? Perhaps. But you had to do this for your baby.

Months would pass. You kept in contact with that ‘buddy’ to let him know that Philip knew what happened. You felt obligated to tell Philip who the sneaky bastard was, and he only threatened to kill him twice.

“Look,” Philip said near the last month of your pregnancy. You were laying on your side in bed, tired and nervous about the upcoming birth. “If it’s his.. he doesn’t have to know. I’ll claim it as mine. Destroy any proof that it’s not.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. On one hand, it was thrillingly romantic. On the other hand, it felt like a twisted lie.

“Let’s just see who’s it is before we make any decisions,” you said. You came to be more graceful about the situation. He helped you so much despite the possibility that he could be a ‘cucked simp stepdad’ as he said.

You both felt relief when the doctor informed you that you didn’t need to wait until birth for a paternity test. It was called amniocentesis, where the doctor would take fluid around the fetus and compare the DNA with the father’s.

Ironically, Philip struggled more with the process than you did. Seeing the needle plunge into your belly had him gripping your hand tightly, trying not to shoot the doctor. You were focusing on his face, projecting your anxiety onto him.

He treated you like a queen on the way home. The recovery was overnight and it was mostly discomfort. The waiting for rhe results was worse. It was four days. Until you finally got the result.

You let Philip receive the call from the doctor for the results. When he got the call, he stood up from the dining table and left to the garage. You began to pick up the dinner plates to try to sublimate the anxiety.

A minute later, Philip suddenly emerged from behind you and kissed your neck, embracing you. “I’m a father,” he muttered, letting out a sigh of relief.

[daordinarylinchen]

....and a commission😚😚it was my first time drawing nikolai and price не судите строго

[8-rae-rae-8]

Can we talk about how Alex doesn't have burn scars? He was inside the furnace when the bomb went off. He should have scars, right?

He should have had to painfully watch as his skin looked less and less like his own, how the grafts took parts of his tattoos and now everything is misaligned and wrong.

He lost his leg, yeah, but he lost more of himself than he originally thought. Once the euphoria of being alive ended, he wasn't sure he wanted to be alive, in this state. Alex walked into that furnace knowing he would die, but didn't. He's not sure that he likes that he gets to tell the tale. Not when it's full of screaming and pain. His life would've had a reason if he had died in that building like he was supposed to. For Farah's mission.

And now he felt more useless than ever, doing everything in his power not to stare at the scars lining his skin in the morning as he dresses and puts on his prosthetic. He's alive, sure, but his face looks different, his smile doesn't seem as full as it used to.

He's not laughing and chatting as much, he's off to Farah's side, listening for orders. Because that's how he'll make himself useful again, after months of being too hurt to do so much as move by himself.

But sometimes, she'll look at him expectantly, for his opinion, his thoughts. Maybe just to see him, alive and breathing. Her eyes light up whenever he says his stupid little "yes, ma'am", and it doesn't feel so bad anymore.

[2dnova]

Let me add another masked figure into the mix 💀

Photo dump of some “cosplay” with a Ghost in the works…maybe.

BLUE EYES GO CRAZY 👀