Dear Mr. Sheppard.
I am officially calling it your fault that I now love:
a drug dealing bouncer | a mutant guy who controls fire | king of hell who can control spiders | a wise-cracking bomb expert | a gothic internet terrorist
a robber who robs robbers | a drug dealer-murderer | a russian idek what with an amazing yellow jumper | a biker with a skeleton for a brother | another psycho arsonist
a demi-god | a morally ambiguous space gangster | an ira bomber | a psychopathic elite soldier | an art thief
a gravedigger jewel thief | a murdering dock worker | an american gangster | a ghost with a thing for young girls | i don’t even know what
a musicmajigger who likes beating up women | a cursed bank robber | an intergalactic morally ambiguous lawyer | a counterfeiter | a bastard model agent | a russian pimp
a mad Jurassic Park scientist | a morally ambiguous insurance investigator | the director of a secret organisation | the shady boss of a shady warehouse | the actual king of hell
I hereby blame you for all of my new kinks
Pease stop being so amazing.