Picture this: Bruce Wayne fielding a few questions from press after walking out of some event, one playfully asks "Mr Wayne, any attraction to a costume ((meaning rogue or vigilante, common Gotham slang)) in particular?" and with zero hesitation (and a bright Brucie smile) he replies "Oh, definitely Red Hood." and then gets in the car before any followups. (Jason, not online, only finds out about this from approximately 37 messages from the rest of the clan and their wider network.)
okay so this ask is from more than a month ago and then it totally got away from me AND it's not even a direct response.... im so sorry anon, but your ask was perfect 11/10 no notes so instead, it inspired the what-if brucie wayne's sex tape barely makes a splash irl... 👀
Their sex tape gets leaked overnight.
Bruce's name goes trending for a few days but even then there’s nothing particularly front-page worthy about it when Bruce Wayne has long since made his sex life a public affair. It’s not scandalous in the way the media wants it when the most explosive part of the sex tape is that the other man is quite a bit younger.
The majority of the educated guesses on the Internet are generous enough to place the young man at half Bruce Wayne’s age. The rest is putting their money on the mystery man at being barely legal.
But even then, that’s hardly a surprise given the type of male models and high-society girlfriends that Brucie has previously brought on both arms to a number of high profile events in his sordid past.
Still, there's no news in that. After all, there's not even bondage or pissplay or Bruce Wayne sucking toes.
Their sex tape starts halfway through, tangled together in the same ruined sheets on what looks to be a four poster bed with a king-sized mattress to match. Bruce's hands are on the other man's hips while he fucks him from behind. It could just be the lighting of the room, all dim and dark like a proper sex tape should be, but there is a flash of white in the other man's hair as he is moved by the force of each thrust.
Neither one of them say enough in the video to get a good grasp of anything identifying besides a Gotham lilt to the way the man was panting out Bruce Wayne's name. Just an undeniable familiarity between them when the other man is calling out B on a truly pornographic moan as he is flipped onto his back while Bruce comes crowding in close once more.
It's almost too intimate when Bruce Wayne just spends the next few minutes of the video just nuzzling in against the other man's throat. Tight line of his jaw working hard as he mouths at his neck, leaving behind what will surely become an impressive array of hickeys against the other man's skin.
Their kisses are drawn out long, too many to count when they can't seem to stop.
There is no creepy reflective red pupils but the other man's eyes do seem to glow green for a fraction of a second when his gaze finds the camera lens. A smile pulling across his kiss-bruised lips almost knowingly but that's probably just another trick of the light before he is looking back to Bruce Wayne again.
They are pressed in so close where the only indication that Bruce guides his cock back in is the full body shudder that wracks through him when the camera shows no other details but the display of those powerful thighs bracketing Bruce's hips. And then Bruce is moving again, fucking in deep, living up to his name as Gotham's sex symbol and a proper gentleman in bed when he gets the other man coming twice in quick succession before the video can even end.
Still, the sex tape isn't the problem.
It's the fact that the hero community recognizes the other man at first glance.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Nicholas D. Wolfwood opens his eyes.
This is the first of many surprises in the next 24 hours that shakes his foundational understanding of the universe.
--
Despite everything, Wolfwood keeps waking up the morning he leaves for Hopeland. Forced to relive the day of his death over and over again, Wolfwood tries to change fate and break free of the cycle.
The Council of King Fabian the Eccentric - Chapter 2
Hello, I come with a new chapter for The Council of King Fabian the Eccentric!
Either click the link above or read under the cut ↓
First Part here.
Antonius was a fool. What had gotten into him to agree to this harebrained scheme?
As soon as he had agreed to the King’s proposal, and before he could think better of it, he had been led to a horse-drawn carriage waiting at the entrance to the barracks, and been bundled onto it together with his few possessions. Without ceremony, they had set off into the night, heading towards the royal palace.
What had he been thinking? How could he have possibly thought this was a good idea?
“You’re panicking.”
The King’s voice roused Antonius from his spiraling thoughts. He was sitting across from Antonius in the carriage, looking relaxed and not at all like the insane person he must undoubtedly be.
“It will be fine,” the King assured him with a small, encouraging smile. “The other advisors will help you. I think they will be rather glad to know we finally have a proper military advisor. Though I have to be honest, as much as I want to give you time to get used to your new role, recent developments make it necessary that you attend the war council together with me as soon as is reasonable.”
“If you will forgive me, Your Majesty… how did I come to be selected?” Antonius asked. He had no idea how the King would even be aware of his existence, let alone know of any skills he might potentially have. “I have no fame to speak of. And there must be others that are much more suitable than I.”
“Well, first of all, please don’t address me as ‘Your Majesty’ in private,” the King replied, shuddering dramatically. “It smacks of self-importance, no? Fabian is a perfectly acceptable name, even if I am named after Fabian the Mad.”
“As for your question… I have my sources,” he assured Antonius with another one of his crooked smiles. “And, well, the point of this exercise is to not choose the most obvious candidates. These people are already in my council.”
Antonius waited, but the King did not elaborate.
“I have to inform my sister,” Antonius eventually said, as much a reminder to himself as a request to the King.
“Oh, you have a sister?” the King – Fabian – asked, leaning forward as if he was actually interested in learning that Antonius had a sister. “Where does she live?”
“She is still in Reda, where we were born,” Antonius replied.
“Oh, so you don’t see her very often? Reda is far from here.”
“I have seen her five times since I joined the royal army,” Antonius replied, trying not to think about how much he had missed – his sister growing up, becoming an adult, the birth of her children, the joys and sorrows they had only been able to share through the pages of a letter.
It was foolish to think about that now, when it was already in the past.
Fabian looked surprised, and opened his mouth as if to speak. In the end, however, he remained silent, giving Antonius an inscrutable look before looking out of the carriage window to study the impenetrable darkness beyond.
Fabian was quiet for the rest of their journey, and frankly, Antonius was glad for it.
There were many things he needed to think about.
---
They arrived at the castle late in the night. So late, in fact, that Antonius had not expected to find anyone awake to welcome him.
He was proven wrong when the King – Fabian – led him through a labyrinth of hallways into a small courtyard, and then further into a hall of some sort. A fire was burning in the fireplace at the other end of the hall, illuminating the rich tapestries that lined its walls. Two figures were seated close to the fireplace, bent over a small table between them, apparently absorbed in some kind of board game.
They looked up when the King and Antonius entered the hall, and Antonius could see that they were a woman and a man. Antonius tried not to stare, for they were some of the most peculiar people he had ever set eyes on. The woman was, in a word, large. She was likely taller than even himself, and Antonius was not a small man. From her broad shoulders clad in a sensible woolen dress and shawl down to her large feet, fitted into casual-looking sandals, she exuded physical power. Even her braids barely seemed to manage to tame her long, voluminous hair. It seemed to have a light colour, but it was hard to tell in the flickering light of the fire.
The man next to her was her opposite. He was probably of average stature, but looked positively small next to her, with a build that spoke of a sedentary rather than of a physical lifestyle. He also had a face that Antonius could only describe as foxlike, and while his face was pale, his hair was dark. Unlike the woman’s casual dress, he was wearing an embroidered jacket and breeches.
As soon as Antonius looked at him, a sneaky grin spread over his face.
“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” the man said in greeting. “A strapping soldier.”
“Sigurd, Claire, this is Antonius of Reda,” the King – Fabian – announced, ignoring the comment. “He was a captain in the royal army until today. Antonius, these two are Sigurd of Monro, my agricultural advisor, and Claire, my financial advisor. They have a lot of experience and will be happy to help you.”
That last part was pointedly said to Claire, who grinned unashamedly.
“You can’t blame the old dogs for wanting to play with the new puppy a little,” he said, then sighed. “But oh well. I will be happy to help you if it keeps your paws off my budget. Wars are such a drain on resources that could be used elsewhere. Try to keep that in mind.”
He smiled at Antonius again, but this time, the smile was a threat.
Sigurd shook her head and rose from her chair, coming over to join Fabian and Antonius.
“Well met,” she greeted, and held out her hand.
Antonius took the offered hand, and was proven right in his first assessment; not only was Sigurd taller than him, but his own hand was also dwarfed by hers. He silently wondered if the rest of her family was just as tall as she.
“Well met,” he greeted back.
She considered him for a moment, and then spoke again.
“I hate to agree with Claire, but he is right. Wars are a drain on resources. Not only soldiers die in war.”
Antonius knew that only too well. Fields got burned, crops got confiscated, animals got stolen. The people died a slow, hungry death. Disease blossomed where armies went.
“I shall endeavour to do my best,” he replied.
Claire chuckled as he made his way over to them, and Antonius’ first impression was proven right here, too. Claire was not exactly a small man, but he was the smallest out of the four of them. The decreased distance did not help with the foxlike appearance, too. From close-up, Antonius could see his scheming eyes sparkle with uncanny intelligence.
Right now, the scheming seemed mostly limited to trying to persuade them all to have a nightcap, but Antonius had never been one for drinking, and he was exhausted. It might have been smart to try to make friends with his fellow advisors quickly, but he doubted that he could rely on his social graces at this time of night. He tried to turn down the offer as politely as he could.
Fabian, instead of simply handing Antonius off to a servant, also refused the nightcap and guided Antonius to his new room after he had wished Sigurd and Clair a good night.
The room had been prepared beforehand, Antonius noted, because there was a fire burning here too, and the bed was turned down for the night. It seemed like Fabian had been very confident in his methods of persuasion. Or perhaps hopeful? Antonius still didn’t know how to feel about Fabian choosing him over all the other people who must have been vying for such a position.
Fabian smiled at him encouragingly as he held the door open, and Antonius hesitantly stepped past him, taking in his new environment.
The room was spacious, significantly larger than his previous one, and was adorned with a substantial four-poster bed, multiple wardrobes, chests, cabinets, and other furnishings meticulously arranged for optimal convenience. He had never had so much space in his life. At one end of the room was a desk that was at least four times the size of his previous one, carefully partitioned away from the rest of the room to create a small study.
“Do you like it?” Fabian asked, after Antonius had stood there quietly for a little bit too long.
“It is… big,” Antonius observed dumbly.
Fabian smiled his crooked smile.
“I wouldn’t simply put you away in a closet and take you out whenever I have need of you.”
Antonius had to smile at the image the words painted in his mind, but he did not quite know how to reply.
Fortunately, Fabian seemed to sense that Antonius was tired and overwhelmed. Instead of continuing with the conversation, Fabian told him that a woman named Catalina would come the next morning to familiarise him with his new duties. He then wished Antonius goodnight and left him alone.
Antonius sighed with relief when the door closed behind Fabian. He had no idea how he was supposed to feel, and was glad not to have to keep up appearances any longer. This morning, his military career had come to an end, leaving him with no future prospects. Now, he was in the palace of the King of Edessa. He couldn’t yet say if that was good or bad.
Not knowing what else to do, he unpacked his meagre belongings from his bag. He readied his ink and a sheet of paper on his new desk, so he would be able to write to his sister first thing in the morning.
Then he went to bed.
---
Catalina was a tall, slim woman with glossy brown hair, a fair complexion, and eyes that missed nothing. She waited for him in the small drawing room adjacent to Antonius’ bedchambers, which he hadn’t noticed the previous night despite Fabian leading him through it. However, she didn’t give him the chance to take in his new surroundings. As soon as he had settled down on the large sofa in the middle of the room, she introduced herself as Fabian’s diplomatic advisor and began to familiarise Antonius with the intricacies of court etiquette and politics.
It wasn’t long before Antonius started to feel completely overwhelmed by the wealth of information she so casually imparted on him. After listening to her for a little more, he was convinced that while Sigurd and Claire were evidently low-born like him, Catalina was a noblewoman born and bred. Not that she was arrogant or haughty about it, no. But she was so intimately familiar with the minutiae of the court and its politics that she must have spent much of her life in this environment, knowing everyone’s affairs and more besides.
Catalina eventually took pity on him, and let Antonius order his mind as she served them tea. He would be happy if he could remember even a few of the names she had told him. While some of the connections and relationships she had described made sense in theory, it was difficult to make anything about them seem real. He knew nothing about the people she had talked about; he barely knew anything about Fabian. And most of what he knew about Fabian were rumours.
“It’s always interesting to see who Fabian selects for his little club next,” Catalina observed, handing Antonius a beautiful, delicate cup and saucer adorned with intricate floral and leaf designs. Antonius sniffed it. He couldn’t tell what kind of tea it was, but it smelled divine. “I was the first one he chose.”
Antonius looked up from his cup of tea, surprised. If he had to guess, he would say Catalina was the youngest out of the ‘concubines’ he had met so far, so she must have been quite young when she became part of Fabian’s harem.
Catalina smiled as she took in Antonius’ expression, and delicately took a sip from her own cup of tea.
“My family…” she trailed off. “My former family. I don’t bear that name any longer. They tried to arrange an advantageous marriage for me, but I don’t like men. I realised very early on that I would never feel for a man even a fraction of what I feel for women. My husband might have been nice and understanding. I don’t think he was a bad person, but I couldn’t live that life. Fabian offered me an alternative, one in which I could use my abilities to their best advantage.”
Antonius took this in and wondered what she was trying to tell him. He tried to think of a diplomatic response, but couldn’t come up with anything suitable. After all, even he knew that sexual inclinations weren’t casually discussed over tea with new acquaintances.
Catalina smirked at him from behind her cup, and said, “You can be honest, you know.”
Antonius cleared his throat, nervously.
“Please do not take that the wrong way, but I am happy you had the luxury of choice.”
Catalina laughed at that.
“Oh, I like that!” she exclaimed. “And it’s true. I did have the luxury of choice. I could also have joined a convent, but that seemed rather too boring for my tastes. They do say scandalous things about nuns, but I’m not sure how much of that is actually true.”
Suddenly, she rose from her seat, and joined Antonius on the larger sofa.
“Tell me about the military,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I heard some stories.”
Antonius squirmed, because he knew what stories they told about the military, just as he knew what stories they told about the convent.
“It’s not as scandalous as they make it out to be,” he insisted.
“But that’s the point!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know, you do. Tell me how it really is.”
“It’s… most of us are raised in the military from a young age,” he said slowly. “We grow up with very little… physical freedom.”
He hesitated. He had never talked about this with anyone, but Catalina looked at him with interest, not judgement. She had told him about her life, so it was fair to share something too, he guessed.
“There is no luxury of choice, I suppose. When you’re younger and in a junior position, you’re never fully unsupervised, and your life is very regimented. Your body is never fully yours. You don’t get to decide what to eat, when to rest, or what to do. You have to find comfort where and when you can. It probably sounds more scandalous than it really feels, at the time. Sneaking around in the barracks, trying to keep quiet under the covers. Everyone knows the quiet corners in the garrison. You might get on well with some people better than others, but in the end, you’re all in the same boat, and there’s a sense of camaraderie in that. And, well, some people do take advantage of that. Either you learn to be careful, or you will live to regret it. I know that some people had romantic feelings that went beyond seeking comfort in another body, but… It usually doesn’t go well.”
He shrugged, a little helplessly.
“I can’t tell you what I would do if I could choose. I never had the freedom to think about it.”
Catalina took his hand and squeezed it gently, an indication that she understood. Perhaps she did; if Fabian hadn’t been, she would have been forced to spend her life with a man she neither loved nor desired.
“Maybe someone like Sigurd?” she asked in a gently joking tone. “I heard you met her yesterday. So much woman.”
“Sigurd is… beautiful,” he settled on, because she was. There were no two opinions about it. Whether he would appreciate someone like Sigurd in his bedchamber… he simply didn’t know. What had Catalina said? I realised very early on that I would never feel for a man even a fraction of what I feel for women. Antonius didn’t know what that would feel like, to have such conviction.
Catalina sighed, raising Antonius from his thoughts. “There's so much woman in her, and she hides it in those awful woolen robes. I wish she would let me dress her up a bit.”
“I think you would appreciate Sigurd out of her robes much more,” it slipped out of Antonius’ mouth.
Then he realised what he had just said, and blushed from head to toe.
Catalina let out a shrieking laughter, entirely unlike the elegant persona she displayed throughout their lesson, and slapped his thigh with unladylike vigour.
“Oh, I think you and I will have a great time,” she declared once she had calmed down, still smiling widely. Looking at him, she patted his hand condescendingly. “Don’t worry your pretty head too much about all the intricacies of court intrigue. Fabian won’t throw you to the lions without warning. He has a vested interest in keeping you here for as long as possible.”
With a final smirk, she stood up and left the room.
Finally, somehow, eventually finished and now posted an ALNST swap AU between Ivan and Till.
it only took a few months all in all but i hadn't written for so long before that- or rather posted any writing, so i was really clawing at the walls just wanting something up there. *tosses 14k of yearning Till and rebellious Ivan with fix-it features, MiziIvan bffs, and shameless ivti smut at the Void.* YEET
Fley had always remembered her father's words, spoken in the quiet of the small yard of their little house, a lute trapping her against his warm chest, the wooden frame almost as big as she was. His fingers moved lightly over the strings. "Your music isn't just music. Your words aren't just words."
Ambros had smiled then, a conspirational, mischievous look in his golden eyes. "People like us can bring wondrous things into life. The songs you sing carry your heart into the air, and that can shape the reality around you. The stories you tell will be remembered. The truth you speak is the truth of the world."
He had started singing then, like he hadn't said some incredibly weird things to a little girl, his warm voice filling the chilly air at dusk, and she had joined with joy in their little game of notes.
She hadn't truly understood what he meant, not at the time and not for many years later. Magic was a precise subject to Fley, something to be learned in years and years from books with complicated diagrams and ancient words. A discipline to break down and understand in all its little rules, a science on par with alchemy or physics, informations that could be neatly stored and catalogued on a bookshelf. It wasn't something you felt.
Oh, it happened, sometimes. At her worried shout, her brother would manage to avoid a nasty fall as he fixed their roof. Or, when she sang happily, her sister's embroidery would turn out neater than usual. Small, insignificant things, hardly connected to a kind of magic that, according to her father, was able to shape reality.
Of course, Fley knew she had innate powers, some things had been instinctual for her since she was a child. Other, more complex, like sensing magic around or deciphering unknown words, she attributed to years of study and field practice. There were other things yet though, that for a long time she couldn't explain.
Singing made her feel good. It was like writing a diary, letting her emotions out and into the air, allowing them to influence, for good or ill, those who listened when she shared with them her feelings and heart's desires. The unexpected, though, happened when it wasn't her broken heart to heal, but the bruises on her body.
It had been years since then. Years in which she limited the use of her talents to study and research. She only sang in the solitude of her room in Srecnasam, her heart locked away, afraid to use it wrongly again, or to expose it to the foul vapors of the Crown Republic.
In the end, it was a dagger, not a key, to break that lock. And in a freezing night, as dread and rage welled up in a wave inside her, hurling away in a thunder to protect her brother Mirai, Fley finally started to understand what her father meant.
"No" she had hissed, eyes flashing, as her companions were engulfed in the monster’s tendrils.
"You are stronger than this" she had reiterated, sung, voice ringing in the cave, lifting the others up against the creatures.
"I want to make this right" she had told Igabrol that night, her new teacher, as her heart cracked with a sense of warmth, of possibility, that she hadn’t seen before.
Fley was scared, so scared, that the smallest thing looked like her worst fear come true.
"This is not the reality I want," she told herself, because now the ice in her heart was breaking, melted by warm arms and tears of emotions that she was just now beginning to understand could be true, and maybe her words will never change reality, but they will change her reality.
written for @queerjules. a snippet of what’s to come in our next big prophecy! AU that’s going to take place in Europe.
Rating: T
Word Count: 626
Nico was a mess of pleased sighs and groans beneath him, every little noise increasing the heat between them and making sparks dance along Jason’s fingertips. They had moved to the bed now, Nico resting comfortably on the pillows while Jason was situated in between his bent knees, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where Nico’s shirt had ridden up just above his hips. His hand trailed down to grip the underside of Nico’s thigh and he tensed below him.
“Is this okay?” Jason pulled away to murmur against his lips while Nico let out a shuddering breath.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “but don’t get too excited.” Jason smirked and grabbed his other thigh, pulling Nico down gently and shifting them so that it was more comfortable. Nico’s hands threaded through Jason’s hair as Jason moved away from his lips to mouth along his neck, making Nico keen with longing and press up against him. The world was hazy and warm whenever Jason touched him, fingertips ghosting along bare skin, driving Nico deeper and deeper into oblivion while he was reaching for that heat, wanting more and more and more. A sudden, tiny shock stung his hips and Jason pulled away, leaving Nico panting and staring at him with lidded eyes.
“Come back,” he tried weakly, reaching out for him with his hands, but Jason looked guilty.
“Sorry,” said Jason, not touching him, “we should probably stop.”
“But Jace,” Nico protested, because this was his first time indulging in something he had wanted for a long while now, and damn everyone if Jason was going to pull away simply because he thought Nico was fragile. “I’m fine. I can take it. Come back here.”
“Nico...”
“Jason,” Nico said, and sat up, pausing until his dizziness went away before continuing. “I’m not weak. You shouldn’t feel like you have to protect me. I’m not a mortal.” Jason looked unsure.
“I know, Nico, I know you’re strong. But I’m not; at least, not around you. I don’t want to lose control and hurt you. What if it gets worse?” Nico’s eyes softened and he placed a hand on Jason’s shoulders.
“I’ll kick your ass if it gets too bad,” he said with a gentle sincerity, and Jason snorted, “but in all seriousness, we can take it slow, if you want. After this of course.” Jason thought for a while, eyes never straying from Nico’s. The room was dim as the moon settled high in the sky outside.
“Okay,” he said, nodding, and Nico leaned back so he was laying on the pillows again, reaching up with his hands and making grabby motions.
“Nice. Come here.” He said, and Jason laughed, low and sultry, making heat rumble in Nico’s lower belly. He wasn’t sure how much longer they kept kissing, but by the time Jason had crashed down next to him and Nico had turned to face him, he was absolutely wrecked; breathless and worn out. Making out felt like doing cardio.
Jason regarded him with soft eyes, fingers stroking Nico’s cheek as they cuddled against each other, tight and comfortable. Although they were hundreds of thousands of miles away from Camp Half Blood, even further from Jupiter, he had never felt more at home. Nico nosed at Jason’s chest and rested his forehead against his collar, effectively tucking his head under Jason’s chin, and Jason let out a sighing, silent laugh, Nico smiling warmly as he felt Jason’s chest stutter. Jason wrapped his arms comfortably around Nico’s waist, one hand firm against his back as the two relished in being completely alone, no monsters or demigods there to bother them.
“Night, Nico,” he murmured, pulling back briefly to kiss his head, and Nico felt his heart swell.
Sorry to bother you with an old ship but I can't get this thing out of My head - Night at the Museum!Au with Richavant - Gal the down-to-luck night guard and Richard the exhibition brought to life by the Green Jewel of Valencia...
I read that as down-to-fuck and all I can imagine is Galavant panicking over everything in the museum coming to life, then meeting Richard who’s apparently the owner of the magical gem that brings everyone to life, and all he could think about is ‘I’d tap that.’
Isabella would totally be the Teddy in this AU, helping Galavant get his acts together and puts everything back in its place before the sun is up.
Sid is Jed of course, and the Huns would be the pirates lol. OR ACTUALLY Sid would be like Larry’s son in NATM because he’s the one who kicked Gal out of bed and told him to find a damn job lol.
Unlike Ahkmenrah who’s a mummy (so it’s actually him) Richard would be a wax statue I guess in this case? That doesn’t really explain why they would leave a relic jewel with a wax statue, but OH WELL.
ANYWAY Richard doesn’t know what to do with this new night guard who makes him feel warm and gooey inside, and he’s worried he’s going to actually melt off which is Not Good™ because he’s wax.
The first movie will basically be about them getting closer and pining over each other, one torn because he’s in love with a freaking wax statue, and the other is torn because he is having Feelings® and it’s making him melt which is bad.
Enter Garreth who’s very loyal to the king and noticing that this new night guard is Bad News and for his friend’s sake the guy must go, so he started plotting with Madalena, a descendant of the king who knows the jewel’s secret or maybe she’s one of the museum staff. Unbeknownst to Garreth, Madalena planned to steal the jewel and then frame Galavant for it.
The final battle happened and it is Very Epic with sword battles and stuff and then ofc it ended with Gal kissing Richard in either We Might Not Get a Chance to Do This Again scenario or Thank God We’re Alive scenario.
EITHER WAY IT’s very schmoopy and happy and they end up being cute every single night with Galavant basically throwing the keys to Sid & Iz before sprinting to the Royals of England exhibit to wake up his boyfriend THE END.
Catch me in the Jaydick Flower Zine by @jaydick-week with a fuck-buddies to budding-lovers dickjay exclusive in the nsfw volume! Preorders are open now and all proceeds are being donated to Doctors Without Borders and the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund.
💖🌼Get yours today at https://jaydickzine.bigcartel.com/!! 🌼💖
