☆Foxy's here☆ @foxyinhere - Tumblr Blog

firingpin-g

Is watching enough?

umedrawzz-deactivated20260422

If you got the spoons, Graves in a fur coat? Or scared of a cat

I don’t think I’m capable of rendering him like this ever again. :,)

rierlya

A little wip i haven't finish since a week ago 😞

My yumeship Colonel Void or Skylar Winston and Lieutenant Ghost, Simon Riley.

codthrow

if you’re still open to requests…

some graves angst perhaps?

what’s the fun in having a blorbo if you don’t put him through the horrors™ every now and then?

mmmm cant say no to good ol angst!!

codthrow

I NEVER CATCH OPEN ASK BOXESSS

If its not too much trouble, id love to request phillip graves being all comfy and cozy!! Id love to see your take on his lounge wear 😂

Uhh my take is kinda boring haha 🥲 i imagine that he’s always busy and around other people that he doesn’t have the time or freedom to get properly comfy

his loungewear would probably just be a rotation of a warm jacket + t shirt + soft enough pants/shorts. shadow company issue probably heee

andreinalinn

part 1/3

Translation:

Question: Why are you so angry at Elias that you decided to take revenge not only on him, but also on his children? Is it only about the betrayal, or is there something else involved?

translate: Rorke freezes. The hum of the bunker's ventilation suddenly seems deafening. He doesn't look at his interlocutor—his gaze is fixed on the wall where, once, in another life, their shared operation map hung. His voice, when he begins to speak, is devoid of its usual metallic edge—it's hoarse, almost confessional.

"We weren't just a team. We were... symmetry. He was the order. I was the shadow that carried it out. We understood each other without words. Knew what the other was feeling in the lull before the assault. It was... synchronicity. Far more dangerous than trust."

He slowly pulls out from his breast pocket not a weapon, but a crumpled black-and-white photograph. In it are two young soldiers by a helicopter. Elias is looking into the frame, smiling. Rorke is looking at him. On the back—faded coordinate numbers and a smudged inscription: "Behind you. Always."

"When they took me in Campeche... the last clear image before the world dissolved into pain and lies was his face . A voice that said: 'Hold on, Gabriel.' And then... silence."