wackyquacky

[wackyquacky]

Strange Neighbors | MDNI | Xavier | 18+ | NSFW

Xavier x Fem!Reader

AN: Hello there loves! Just a short Xavier drabble because he honestly doesn't get enough love imo. The reader has female anatomy, but their pronouns aren't specified. I hope you have fun! ~Mono

He wasn’t sure if you knew this, his dear neighbor, but you had a nasty habit of keeping your window blinds open at night. Did you forget to close them again? How? Why? It was a huge window overlooking your bed! Did you want people to see in?

He hates it, the way he can see you curl up on your bed, donned in a black tank and sleep shorts, the ones that are so loose they ride up your body. He hates how he likes the way you look like this, especially when you read like that. Feet up in the air, flat on your stomach, head resting against your arm while you hold open the book with one hand…

But then you did something out of your nightly routine, you closed the book and bent over the bed, aiming for something he couldn’t quite see in his limited field of vision. And then he sees it: a small toy of the vibrating quality.

He felt his cheeks gradually get hotter, he should look away.

Shouldn’t he?

But when you start slipping your shorts down, revealing smooth, soft skin, his brain blanks out. How long has his mouth been this dry? The shorts hit the floor, you climb into bed with your prize in your hand, and then you begin.

He watches you press the vibrator to your clit, watches your mouth fall open and wonders to himself what sweet sounds you must be releasing.

 What sounds he could make you release.

Your body fights with itself not to close your legs, as if you were putting on this erotic display just for him. As if you wanted him to watch. Yeah, that must be it. You had to know he was watching. He had no doubt you could see him just as well as he could see you, sitting in his bedroom on the edge of the bed in awe as you make yourself come undone.

Your back arches off the bed, your brows crease, your chest rises and falls as you near your orgasm.

He’s never been harder in his life.

Would you ever be able to forgive him, though, if you knew what dirty thoughts he had about you when you were doing this? The way he now palms himself in his sweatpants as he thinks about you, as he watches you, please yourself.

His hand wraps around his cock like a second choice, because it is. In his mind, you’re in front of him, in this room, his room.

“You like seeing me like this, don’t you, Xavier?” You whisper, and he knows it’s all in his head but fuck he can’t get you out of it. You roll the vibrator against your clit, releasing those sweet sounds he knows can only exist in his fantasies. You were his coworker, for fuck’s sake!

But it doesn’t matter now, he increases his pace, eyes sliding back to where you are in your room, you’re biting your hand like you want to keep it down. Don’t. He wants to beg. I want to be able to hear you from all the way over here. Please. Please, I’d do anything.

The crimes he’d commit for even a taste of your pussy is concerning. He was sure that if you commanded him to get down on all fours and bark in the office, he’d do it. And then he’d make you cum harder than that stupid toy ever could. Was he jealous of a toy? Yes. Of course he was.

He wanted to be the one to make you cum.

That thought never faded, even while he watched your back arch a final time, and he ended up painting his hand in the dark of his room.

And when the sun rose and he begrudgingly dragged himself into work the next day, he thinks-no, he swears-he saw you wink at him. His phone buzzed, a text from you.

Your door code, followed by another.

Next time, you’re welcome to do more than just watch.

He was so fucked, wasn’t he?

[wackyquacky]

Error | LADS Drabble | Sylus | MDNI

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a short drabble I scribbled in my noted app while I've been kicking my feet over him. I wrote and "edited" it on my phone, so it's a little choppy. It's short, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Dating apps had to be the absolute bane of your existence.

You scroll through aimlessly at this point. He's balding, she looks like someone who would have bullied me in high school...that guy looks like he doesn't know what a clit is....

Not that you were on there for sex. No. You were there to find love. A stupid idea, really. But your stupid best friend signed you up for a stupid app because, "It's just how people find love these days!"

Seriously. Who even finds love on these things? And why did you want to? It's not like a hot guy is suddenly-

Your finger swipes, and you pause.

The mirror selfie on the newest guy steals your breath. He's the kind of guy that doesn't look like he belongs on a dating app. Surely, he could get anyone he wanted? He's tall, from the background for reference. He towers over the counter. So lying about his height wasn't a thing with him. He's stupid tall, 6'2". White hair. (Or was it silver? The dim light didn't help!) Red eyes. A smirk plastered on his lips. And a jawline for absolute days.

Curiosity overtakes you, and you click on his profile. You scroll through his information, noting his job, accomplishments, everything. He had the background to justify the smirk in his profile picture.

You scroll to the bottom, chewing the dead skin of your chapped lips-you were gonna fix it, you just had to find your chapstick first. The section where you put your number in sits there, an alternative to texting on the site. You remember it from when you watched your friend set up your account, even when you protested.

'Reveal?'

Taking a deep breath in, you click the button thinking it'll just show it. You really wish you wouldn't have immediately.

'You've requested to see Sylus' number! Please wait for them to accept your request!'

"Shit...shit...shit..." You tap away at your phone, frantically typing out a quick apology message in the limited amount of messages you can send, since neither of you swiped on each other. You don't know whether or not to decide what color you want your gravestone or move out of the country under a different identity.

As soon as your finger presses the send button, a little message pops up, a single 'read' receipt at the bottom of the semi-hurried apology message absolutely riddled with anxiety induced typos.

Yeah, maybe add plastic surgery to that list for when you leave the country...

Tossing your phone on your bed beside you, you muffle your whines of embarrassment in your pillow. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why did I even press that button? I should have guessed that's what it did. What else could it have possibly done?

Ugh.

Your phone dings. Your stomach drops as you force yourself to peek at the notification.

'Sylus approved your request! Please chat safely!'

Huh?

That's all for now loves, see you soon!

~wackyquacky

[wackyquacky]

Revered Stars

CHAPTER TWO

So this is it?

The broken down cabin in front of me looks nothing like what I remember. It’s smaller for one, and the porch is a little busted. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to be able fix it. The porch had never broken down or degraded enough to the point of this.

“So, you’re the new farmer! The old man mentioned his granddaughter, that must be you come to take on the family business, huh!”

“Holy fuck!” I place my hand over my heart, feeling it beat wildly in fear. It’s just a middle aged red-headed woman, standing there with her hands on her hips and grimacing at Grandp-my property.

“Can I help you?” I raise a brow, standing up and crossing my arms.

The red head apologizes. “Ah, I’m sorry. I got so excited I completely forgot to tell you, my name. I’m Robin. Excuse my poor manners.”

She holds out her hand for me to shake, and I introduce myself. “I’m Seren. Yes, I’m his granddaughter.”

“Wonderful. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry to hear about your grandpa, he was a nice man. He’d come up to the shop in his later years when he couldn’t chop the wood down anymore. Absolutely refused to let me do anything about this old house though. But hey, if you’re ever feeling like you need a change, I’m just north of the village! I can fix it right up for you, sweetheart. Oh! Then you can meet my children! You should meet everyone, they’re just as excited to meet you as I was.”

Great.

“Robin, will you be easy on the girl?” A man’s voice calls out in the distance. He’s a older man with greying hair, and he’s trotting up to us.

Robin leans in to whisper, “That’s Mayor Lewis.”

Mayor Lewis is out of breath by the time he reaches us, and he leans down with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “We meant to…greet you at the bus stop…but we weren’t fast enough apparently.” He grins in a way that reminds me of Grandpa.

“That’s alright.” I say, staring at the pair of them.

Mayor Lewis rubs the back of his neck and stands up. “Geez it’s hot. It’s supposed to be spring. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, livin’ here all these years.” When I don’t respond to him, he starts again. “Not much of a talker, are ya?”

“Mayor Lewis!” Robin scolds, and makes a face as if to say, “Go easy on her, she just lost her grandpa.” Shooting me a pitying look, she grabs Mayor Lewis’ arm as if to tell him they needed to go. He, in turn, shoots me a look of the same family tree and follows in suit.

“Just think about those upgrades!” Robin calls behind her, immediately getting scolded by Lewis as they walk away.

I crack a smile and survey the yard. There’s a lot to do. Greet the other folks, and-yikes-get this yard in check. When was the last time Grandpa did any upkeep? Sticks lay everywhere, scattered about amongst small stones, and the trees! There were less of them when I last visited. When did all these trees get here?

Theres a wood pile next to the door, it’s got an axe stuck in a piece of wood. It takes a couple of yanks and my foot, and maybe cost me a few gray hairs at the ripe age of 24, but I got it out. I survey the yard, decide it’s too much work to do for today, and commit in my brain to start tomorrow.

Okay, here’s to hoping that the inside looks much better than the outside.

The front door creaks open to the dark, one room cabin from my memories. I don’t know how Grandpa ever survived without a kitchen, but I can’t. I remember what Robin said about a house upgrade. I’ll have to work on that later.

I make my way to the fireplace, stick a few logs in there, and set it alight with the lighter I had the good sense to bring. The cabin is now illuminated, and it’s a lot cleaner than I was expecting. There’s no dust anywhere. The old oak table my grandpa and I made together sits in the corner, fresh flowers and a box sit on top of it.

Swiftly, I open the box and blindly pull whatever is in it out. They’re…parsnip seeds, and they’ve got a note attached.

“New Farmer,

Here’s a little something to get you started!

P.S. We did the best to clean up the cabin that we could.

-Lewis”

  Gingerly, I toss the packet of seeds onto the table and turn around. The bed is in the corner by the door. I’m not fond of it, and add it to my list of things to change. As I plop down, I wonder if this is how Grandpa felt when he first bought this farm. This feeling in my chest, like floating. It fills me with a light; a hope.

For the first time in maybe my life, I feel hope. And I fall asleep.

My mother sits across from me, in tears after I’ve chased away her latest conquest. She’d asked me to protect her. I’m protecting her. Why is she so angry at me?

“It’s all your fault.” She sobs. “How am I gonna pay the bills now?”

I step towards her, I shouldn’t have. “It’s okay Mommy, we’ll figure it out.” My little voice whispers gently as my arms wrap around her.

She stands up and pushes me away. “And just how are we going to figure it out? Huh!” I flinch. “Answer me! You little fucking bitch!” My knees tremble, tears well up in my eyes as I watch the looming figure of my mother cornering me into the couch. I don’t answer her. My brain rips itself to shreds, looking for an answer to make her love me again. What do I do? What can I say?

She doesn’t like my silence. She doesn’t like any more that I’ve slipped off to the slide and leaned against the table. She leans closer to me, menacing grin plastered on her face. She’s enjoying this, she likes making me scared. But if I’m scared, will you love me again, Mommy?

I lean back, my shoulder catching a glass on the table that plummets off of the table and shatters. I flinch again and try to run. She chases after me.

“Oh, don’t run now!” She demands, laughing after me. She’s scary, like a monster from one of those storybooks in my toybox. I don’t listen. I run, I run really fast and, maybe, just maybe if I run fast enough, she’ll forget she was ever mad at me, and we can play tag instead?

She catches my arm.

“Mommy, it hurts!”

“I really don’t give a fuck.” She spits, dragging me back to the glass. “Now clean it the fuck up.”

My hands tremble when I lean down and begin to scoop the bigger pieces into a pile. My tears still run hot, my whole-body burns. I just want to go to sleep. She shoves a convenience bag into my free hand. “There. I helped.” She leans back and crosses her arms over her chest, watching while I place the big pieces in the bag. She doesn’t stop me when I reach for the small pieces I can hardly see.

Will you love me if I do this, Mommy? Will you love me again, like you did before?

“Ow!” I complain, holding my bleeding finger up to show her. “Mommy I have a boo-boo!”

“You’re getting blood all over my floor.” She snarls, snatching my arm again and leading me to the bathroom. My tears don’t stop, revitalized by the worst pain my 6-year-old body has ever endured. I hold my hand to my clothes, thinking that it’ll stop so I don’t make her madder at me, but no matter what I do, everything always makes it worse.

She grabs the bag of glass, tying it into an angry knot. I know what’s coming next, this always happens when I make her mad like this. I bend over, covering my neck with my hands like they taught us in tornado drill in preschool class.

The first strike hurt.

My back bends, my body’s way of telling me that it doesn’t like this very much. I agree with it.

She strikes again. And again. She doesn’t stop even when I start sobbing again. She doesn’t stop until the bag breaks, spilling the broken glass everywhere again. I take the chance to run. She doesn’t chase me this time.

My bed is soaked in sweat when I finally sit up. The fire is dulling, and I climb out of bed to toss in another log and head outside onto the porch. The sun has barely risen, the thicket of trees hiding most of the view of the sunlight over the farm. I take a deep breath, sitting on the porch and taking in the views I haven’t gotten to enjoy for the last 9 years.

Above me, somewhere off in the trees, the mourning dove sings her peaceful melody. I wish Grandpa were here. I wonder how many times he sat where I sat, admiring the same views. Did he think of me?

I head back inside, choosing to grab some fresh clothes out of the backpack I’d packed as a carry on, sliding my adult documents under my bed for now. I’ll deal with it later. For now, I dress and hurry to tidy the yard.

The grass is a tyrant, the sticks have almost killed me a million times, and I swear if I trip over another fucking rock I’m going to scream in frustration. But I’ve spent almost all morning since 6 a.m. cleaning the area around the cabin, and I can finally plant these fucking seeds. Sweat beads at my brow when I hoe at the dirt, creating pocket spaces for the seeds before sticking them in the dirt and watering them.

And now that’s done, I throw my tools to the side and wipe my brow. I lean against the stairs and just…breathe. It feels good to be productive, it feels good to garden. The familiarity wraps around me like an old friend, seeping into my bones. The ache relaxes, no longer as burning as it had been before. My shirt clings to me, and I stare at the open sky.

Joy bubbles in my chest until I release a laugh. I’m free. I don’t have to go back to the city anymore. I can stay here. It’s mine. My eyes look towards the wood pile I’d acquired through almost-death and tripping through the forest on my farm that feels like it grew twice the size overnight.

Right. Maybe I should pay Robin a visit to get an estimate on how much it’ll set me back for that kitchen. I rise and start the walk. It’s not far, I think. It doesn’t look that far on the map at least.

It takes me thirty minutes to get there by foot, and when I finally stumble into Robin’s shop around 2pm, she looks almost happy to see me.

“The new farmer! Seren, is it? It’s good to see you, dear. Would you like to take a seat? You look exhausted.” She greets me cheerfully from behind the counter, gesturing to a stool by the door.

I shake my head, approaching the counter and leaning against it. “So, I have all this extra wood on my farm, and I need to check some prices on things so I can budget for some upgrades.”

She gives me a small, understanding glance. “No kitchen.” She doesn’t have any question about it; she’d been there before I arrived. She slides a catalogue my way, and I flip through it. Silos, sheds, barns, ponds, house upgrades. The pages are worn and weathered, so I’m careful when I flip to the page I need.

“While you’re here,” Robin’s voice is sudden, my body reacts faster than my brain, and I flinch. She doesn’t notice, making me breathe a small sigh of relief, I really don’t wanna explain that right now. “You should meet my family. Everyone is here, I think?”

She calls 3 names; I don’t catch all of them. My eyes are focused on the page I need. There’s two sets of steps that approach me, one of them is lighter; a woman, if I had to guess. The second is a little heavier, the small thuds that slightly echo give away that it’s man. I look up and Robin, and then the two people who approached.

“This is my husband Demetrius, and our daughter Maru.” Robin points to a petite, mixed woman with curly hair and round rimmed glasses that make her eyes appear big. Maru smiles and waves at me, small dimples appearing in her cheeks as if she’s actually happy to see me.

“I’m Maru! It’s nice to meet you, Mom told me about you. Your name is Seren, right?”

I nod.

Demetrius is a taller man, and he steps forward with a hand held out. “Demetrius, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Seren.” I take his hand, his grip is tight when he squeezes.

“Okay that’s two, but I called three. Maru, where’s your brother Sebastian?”

Maru shrugs. “I wish I knew, but he doesn’t tell me anything.”

The door behind me chimes, and all three of us turn to look at the person coming in. It’s a guy around my age, about 5’9 in height. His hair is messily styled and black with purple streaks, his clothes mirror those of the emo fashion back home in ZuZu city. His lip ring glints when he opens his mouth to take a drag of his cigarette, puffing the smoke out when his gaze settles on me. He pushes his hair back to reveal another glint in his eyebrow, another piercing.

He's…super-hot.

The guy, Sebastian, I presume, puts out his butt before scanning the room again. “What?” He raises an eyebrow again with enough attitude to put a teenage girl to shame.

Robin laughs nervously. “Sebastian, this is the new farmer, say hi.”

Sebastian looks at me again, his eyes are a deep brown. They don’t get any warmer when they travel down my work-worn body. “You’re the new farmer?” If I had a nickel…

“Yeah. Seren.” Did that sound cool? Fuck I wanted it to sound cool.

“Of all the places you had to live, why’d it have to be Pelican Town?”

[wackyquacky]

Revered Stars

{A/N: This is not proofread or edited}

CHAPTER ONE

Seren

I’m not sure when it started. Actually, I can barely remember what life is supposed to be like. When the last time I visited Grandpa on his farm. When the last time I felt the grass beneath my feet, smelled the fresh air, heard a rooster cry out for the morning.

Mom used to send me there when she’d get sick of me. She’d drop me off at Grandpa’s doorstep and I’d spend entire summers there with my cousin, Thaniel. I wonder how the farm is. How are the chickens? The cow, Betsy. What about Grandpa? I wonder if he still makes that seafood soup from the fish we’d buy from Willy’s.

Does he know I don’t talk to mom anymore?

Would he care?

“Hello? Seren?” From dull screens to an even duller figure, my eyes flicker. My boss is standing with a copy of the report I did last week. I’ve done so many I can hardly remember what in particular they’re about to bitch at me about.

“Huh?”

They raise a brow at me. “Don’t ‘huh’ me.” Thwack. The stack of papers lands on my desk with a cruel thud. “Tell me what’s wrong with these numbers?” A glint shifts into their eyes as they lean into their hip and place a hand on. Diamonds, worth more than my rent glitter, even they can manage to thrive in the dull lighting of this office.

The paper feels smooth and cold in my hands, small noises as I flip through it fills the office while I scan for any mistakes. The air feels heavy, suffocating practically. I can’t spot my mistake in time though, because my boss smacks the pages down onto my desk and angrily flips through it themselves.

“There.” They bite. “The last page? Right there?” Their condescending tone doesn’t escape me, as if I’m somehow lower for not recognizing what they wanted as fast as they wanted me to. I peer at the page, realizing that I’d put my name in the credits instead of theirs. Entry level doesn’t get credits; they’d told me once. That’s for the higher-ups.

And my paycheck sure as hell didn’t scream, “higher-up”.

“Oh.”

“Oh? Fucking oh? That’s all you have to say?” They scoff, settling themselves back into their previous stance. “I had to present this today. I couldn’t because of that. I had to stand there and look stupid when they asked for this report, I had to say you were still working on it! I got fucking reprimanded because of you!” They yell.

The quiet hum of the office stills, all eyes turn towards us. In the distance, I hear a coworker tell whoever they have on the phone that they need to place them on a brief hold.

My head falls into my hands, my head feels like it’s a thousand degrees. The stares feel like stones. Please don’t look. Please just go back to what you were doing.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

I don’t answer. This isn’t satisfying to them. I’m not giving them the explosion they want so they can fire me. Company policy prohibits unjust firing, so they don’t get sued. I hear my boss shift, and I look up when they speak again. “You know what? I’m placing you on leave for the month.” They throw their hands up, as if they were ever tied to begin with.

“A month?” I start, but they begin to walk away. “A fucking month?! Hey! Where are you going? You can’t do that! I have bills to pay!”

They stop. “Insubordination? Fine. No leave.” I take a sigh of relief, too soon, I fear. “Pack your things. You’re fired.”

 My apartment, the one dingy one-bedroom box I call home, feels just as heavy as my former workplace. There aren’t glittering diamonds like the hand of my old boss, just empty cardboard boxes and angry car sounds outside in the bustling ZuZu city.

The mail in my hand doesn’t seem to be important, just junk mail about businesses I can’t afford to hire with print I can hardly read in the low lighting. I flip the switch to my right and…nothing. I guess they shut off my electricity.

Fuck.

Standing by the window, hoping the neon lights the bar across the way spirts will grant my eyes some amount of reprieve from the strain, I can finally make out the letters on the last letter in the stack. It’s written in my cousin Thaniel’s hand. I haven’t heard from him since mom and her sister got caught up in some argument and they moved across the country.

“Seren,

Hey little ‘cuz! I know it’s been a while since we last spoke, but apparently you’re a hard woman to reach ‘cause I called your cell, and it went straight to voicemail. Listen, there’s some news that I figured you’d want to hear from me first, but, Grandpa passed away last week. His funeral is this Friday in the city near where you live.

If you can make it out, I can’t wait to see you. But if you’re busy, I get it.

Thaniel.”

My eyes sting, I try to blink back the tears. Grandpa died? He’s dead? I think of his kind eyes and proud smile. I try to remember his laugh and cheers when he’d taught me how to cultivate a parsnip, and when we harvested it, it’d been almost as big as my 8-year-old head.

My eyes don’t stop stinging, not even when I grab the letter he’d given me all those years ago and hugged it to my chest. Grandpa…

I hope you’re happy up there.

Maybe I’ll see you soon.

Somewhere outside my window, a mourning dove croons. My eyes flutter open to the bright sunlight that filters through the window shades. I move, hear a crinkle, and then I freeze. Oh. Right. The letter from Grandpa. It’s a little wrinkled, but still good.

I remember what he said when he’d given it to me. We sat on the front steps to the cabin. The way he’d pat my head when he was sick and handed me a letter. “You know, I didn’t always used to be a farmer.” He’d said. The crinkles in his eye smile disappeared as he spoke. I’d been all of 15, it was another summer. The sun had freckled my cheeks, the cicadas were singing in the background.

My brows had furrowed back then, all I could think was, “Where are you going with this, old man?”

He fished something out of his pocket, a letter folded in half, and handed it to me. “When I was younger, probably about the same age as yer’ mother, I had a job out in the city. It’s where your mother and aunt were raised. I was pretty important there. But it became all the same. The same meetings, the same calls, the same hum of the city. Shouting from passersby and routine; all of it. I got bored of it.”

“You needed a change.” I’d stated bluntly. I didn’t appreciate him as much at the time, I was a kid who had no idea the way the world worked beyond the world my mother showed me.

But he didn’t scold me, he just gave a small smile and continued. “Yes, I needed change. And one day, if ever you find yourself in need of that change, well, I’ll always be right here for you.” I don’t say anything, I just let him pull me into a hug and accept the kiss he leaves of the crown of my head. “Sweet Seren.”

The front door swings open, and a seventeen-year-old Thaniel storms out. “Hey! I’ve been calling y’all for like 10 minutes. Dinner’s done and burnin’ up! Let’s go!”

That was the best night of my life. I got to hang out with Grandpa for a few more weeks, and then fall came and my mom picked me up. Like the veil had been violently yanked from my eyes, I was thrust back into city life, jumping from house to house with whatever boytoy my mom had at the time.

That was the last time I saw my grandpa.

The fight my aunt and mom had isolated me from Thaniel that year, and they moved away. Grandpa got really sick after that. So, I was on my own.

The letter still has the same crease in it. I take a deep breath and pray he will forgive me when I break the wax seal.

“Seren,

If you’re reading this, it means you’ve decided for yourself that you wanted change. I can only hope it was much younger than I did. Good on you. I’m leaving the farm to you. After all, you’re the only one between you and Thaniel who will want it and care for it the way that it needs. I don’t have much time left. There’s still so much I haven’t taught you and so much I wish I could say. Nonetheless, the gods have decided it’s not for me to share.

Always remember: People cannot take things from you if you won’t let them.

Even though you’ve found yourself in need of that change, I’m still here for you. In the tilled soil, in the grass, the bugs, and every seed. I love you to bits and pieces, Little Seren.

Grandpa.”

My eyes sting again, and I’m not sure how much more I can cry. I miss my grandpa. I miss him so fucking much. I should have visited. But I didn’t. And it will haunt me forever.

TO BE CONT.

Auhor's Note: The next chapter may be triggering for some. If you have any questions, ask! Extras are available on ao3, where this will be cross posted. You can find me on there as well!

[wackyquacky]

Welcome Love

I’m Mono.

Age: 20+

Interests and Fandoms: Anime | BTS| Stardew Valley | Love and Deepspace | Writing | Reading | Mythology

I am a MDNI page, I ask that you respect it as the themes I write about are most often not suitable for minors.

Requests: If you’d like

Do I write NSFW?: Yes. That is why I am a MDNI page.

EXTRA FACTS:

North American|LGBTQ+ Friendly| From the River to the sea, Let Palestine be free| Meme enjoyer

More later, I’m sure.

Goodbye Loves!

[wackyquacky]