Reblog To Tell Zionists To Fuck Off Your Blog. If You Say You Aren't A Zionist But Still Get Offended

hiii 💃 can i request a fic where sam colby and innocent reader are on a ghost hunting trip and sam somehow tricks colby into taking a bunch of viagra 😭 and reader is sams younger sister (aka their camera woman) and colby’s had a crush on her for a while but he doesn’t wanna make sam mad since readers like a little innocent baby 🤭 so when the viagra finally hits him reader feels bad and invites him into her hotel room and colby decides to get revenge on sam by serving reader some delicious back shots 😩😩😩 also i really liked what you did with one of your johnnie fics by calling the reader baby i think it would really add to the corruption kink 🫣🤭😻

Yes yes yes <3 this a beautiful idea i will tag you in it and link it -> here <- once its posted!! If you have any more ideas for it comment on this post lovely!!

Boycotting is not a trend. “Not everyone has to boycott!” I don’t think I’ve ever seen more lazier people than this generation. You are a genuine weak human being, you have no self control, self respect or basic human emotions.

Palestinian children who have to collect rain water to drink, Palestinian children who have to starve to death because they have no food, Palestinian children plead out to the world for help, Palestinian children, who put their life in your hands and let you be their voice. Palestinian children who are actively dying because you cannot go a day without drinking your Starbucks. You are an embarrassment to humans and you are a waste of good air.

You have the option to go to McDonalds and you have the option to drink Starbucks. You have the option to go outside and be with your friends, you have the option to spend time with your family, you have the option to eat, to sleep, to drink, to live. PALESTINIANS DONT.

“Still not boycotting, it has nothing to do with me” did you know that the planet-warming emissions generated during the first two months of the war in Gaza were greater than the annual carbon footprint of more than 20 of the world’s most climate-vulnerable nations…..

The Gaza-Isreal war has let out more carbon dioxide than Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Barbados, Bhutan, Costa Rica, Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya, Kiribati, Madagascar, Maldives, Nepal, Philippines, Rwanda, Saint Lucia, Tanzania, Timor-Leste, Tuvalu, Vanuatu and Vietnam annually.

Are you reading this? Can you comprehend this?

Here you can see the carbon usage of Israel.

We’re not boycotting just for fun. We’re boycotting because:

1. We don’t stand for genocide

2. We don’t fund genocide

3. We love our planet

4. WE HAVE MORALS

Yesterday, Palestinian and solidarity organizers disrupted a Biden campaign event 14 times during his speech on the protection of women's rights. These activists called out hypocrisy because Biden and his administration are actively causing a reproductive care catastrophe in Gaza.

50,000 pregnant women do not have access to healthcare in Gaza, and C-sections are being performed without anesthesia. Women and children in Gaza are being killed by U.S.-made and supplied bombs.

described by @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts

[ID: Transcription of what the protesters are saying, while security personnel try to get them out:

Israel kills two mothers every hour in Gaza. Ceasefire now! End the genocide! Ceasefire!

Women in Gaza are being murdered. Killing people in Gaza is a war crime. You are a war criminal.

Stop funding genocide! Ceasefire now!

50,000 pregnant women don't have healthcare. Their blood is on your hands. Ceasefire!

Ceasefire now! Stop funding genocide! Gaza is a reproductive issue.

Free, free Palestine!

The end of the video shows article headlines with photos of the protesters or of Joe Biden, from various news organizations:

POLITICO: Biden's abortion rights rally repeatedly interrupted by protesters

ALJAZEERA: Biden speech interrupted by pro-Palestinian protesters

CNN politics: Biden's abortion rights rally in Virginia beset by repeated protests over his handling of Gaza

abcNEWS: Biden campaign speech on abortion rights disrupted 14 times by protesters

yahoo!news: Biden abortion rally in Virginia interrupted by multiple protesters: 'Genocide Joe'

NEW YORK POST: Biden claims Gaza heckler is 'MAGA Republican' as he's interrupted at least 10 times at rally

Forbes: Protesters Interrupt Biden's Abortion Rights Speech More Than A Dozen Times

NBC NEWS: Biden interrupted by protesters more than a dozen times at campaign rally

USA TODAY: President Biden's abortion rally disrupted by repeated protests over Gaza

Reuters: Biden's abortion rights rally in Virginia interrupted by Gaza protests

/End ID]

⃗  ❪  FAIRYTALE! ࣪ ❫ — matthew sturniolo.

starring. hockey player!matt x singer!reader. | wc : 1487

headline. a few days before your album release, everything crumbles down. your relationship, your motivation … your everything.

genre. angst angst ANGST! i had to guys i’m sorry in advance :(

⌖.˚◌ december 3rd was just around the corner. what’s so special about that day? not only was it your anniversary but you were releasing your long awaited album— dedicated to him. matt and you had been together for almost two years and as an anniversary gift, you wrote this project for him to cherish. of course, you had your ups and downs but what couple doesn’t? you’ve spent almost a year perfecting and developing this and to say you were proud, was an understatement.

you sit in the studio, jotting in your journal as you listen to track 12, the last song on your album. all night, your phone had been ringing, notifications soaring through but you decided to ignore it. this was the only time you’ve had to yourself, your manager nagging you about nonsense ( sorry jenny…. ).

speak of the devil, your phone rings once again. you sigh as you accept defeat, answering the call and putting it on speaker. “jen, i’m at the studio.. i can’t tal—“ you’re cut off by her unusually raspy voice.

“have you seen the photos? the article? anything y/n? everything is royally fucked.” she rambles, her voice breaking. your eyebrows furrow, confused on her certain burst of emotion. “slow down! what are you talking about?” the stress and anxiety taking over your once relaxed mind as you sit up in your chair.

j-just look.” she sighs as your phone pings.

POP CULTURE! — Matt Sturniolo & Yazmin Torez’s secret love life becomes not so secret?

by Jamie Whitman. November 30th, 2024 at 8:52pm

It seems like the relationship between Boston Bruin’s best hockey player and Instagram’s Favorite Influencer has become way more than friendly. Fans have previously expressed their interest in seeing these two become a couple but it got nowhere, seeing as Matt Sturniolo was in a committed relationship with two-time Grammy Award winner, Y/N L/N.

Sturniolo and Torez were spotted outside of Topgolf last night, the pair seemingly drunk as they stumbled out into the empty parking lot. Instead of waving goodbye, they started showing very sexual displays of affection on the side of Sturniolo’s car— not aware that paparazzi were only feet away. Neither of them have came out with statements— Y/N hasn’t either.

We can’t do anything but pray this doesn’t interfere with the release of Y/N’s third album, FAIRYTALE.

more to read under the cut.

⌖.˚◌ you glance at your screen with your lips parted in surprise and your eyes burning as tears threaten to escape. there’s no way this was actually happening. he wouldn’t do this to you.. right? “i don’t know what type of prank you guys are pulling but this isn’t funny.” you sniffle, wiping the stray tear that rolled down your cheek.

she shakes her head as if you can see her, disappointment basically leaking from her pores. “i’m not making this up. talk to him about it and call me back, okay?” her question coming out more like a statement. you mutter a “okay” before hanging up and slumping into your chair. so much for the studio. you quickly facetime matt, preparing for him to answer and tell you this wasn’t true. unfortunately after one ring, he declines the call. your eyes widen at his audacity before you open imessage.

your blood is boiling. what could he possibly say to convince you that it’s not true? you turn off the music in the studio before grabbing your phone and heading outside. the cold night air hits your skin, causing your body to relax as you reach his car. you open the passenger door before climbing in and closing it behind you.

matt looks an absolute mess. his hair is untamed, his eyes and face unbelievably red from crying. a small part of you feels bad, never wanting to see the love of your life upset but at the same time, he screwed you over. in front of the world might i add. “it’s true. the photos, the article… all of it. i’m sorry, y/n.” he says, his head swarming with guilt. you look up to see his eyes focused on his lap, too ashamed to face you. you scoff before speaking. “are you really sorry? or are you sorry because you got caught?” you ask, tears falling down your cheeks yet again.

“i’m seriously sorry. we were wasted and i know that’s not an excuse but she was there. i took advantage of that and i regret it so much.” he finally looks up at you causing your eyes to soften slightly. you quickly realize what he just said before shaking your head. “she was there? are you fucking serious right now? she was there downing shots with you while i was here, making sure the album i wrote for you was perfect! you’re an asshole, matt.” you yell, pointing towards the building outside.

any of this happening was not on your 2024 bingo card.. at all.

he reaches over the console to grab your hands, rubbing a thumb over the promise ring he gave you. “just listen to me, okay? i don’t wan—“ you cut him off by snatching your hands away and shaking your head. “was this the first time?” you question, just above a whisper. a sigh leaves his lips as he lays back into the driver’s seat. “no. we’ve been seeing each other since august.” his voice cracks slightly.

you feel your heart shatter into a million pieces once again. all this time, he was playing you. a part of you thanks him for not letting you embarrass yourself even further by putting out your album. you lick over your dry lips before nodding. “pack your shit and find somewhere else to stay. goodbye matt.” you instruct before taking off the ring and throwing it at him. you look at him one last time before hopping out the car and making your way back into the studio.

matt picks up the ring, looking at your anniversary engraved on the side. he runs a hand over his face, trying his best to not let anymore tears fall. he fucked up everything and there was no way he was getting it back.

lai speaks. oh my gosh?? matt being a douche bag how do we feel? this is actually one of my fav things i’ve written so like i hope you guys like it! masterlist and all that jazz will be up soon… maybe 😬

taglist. @fawnchives @prettyvyll @trickywritters @breeloveschris @sturniolho @lorarri @gnxosblog @firexovni @tylerstacobell @ivonchetooo1239 @bernardsgf @dracoflaco @strniolo @paibey @hearts4chris @sturniololo @rootbeerworshiper @tillies33ssss @katluckybear @realuvrrr @junnniiieee07

hot take .

men that call themselves “alpha” are borderline furries jus in denial 😗😗

I AGREE they're also just denying that they like dick 😛

Lacey 🎀 — Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader PT2

PT 1 <- Read this one first lovelies

Word Count: 3k

Contains: Pregnancy, mentions of sex, Matt being a pervert, A very emotional

woman

Remember when I said I wasn't writing pregnancy?? | lied....

PS: If you like pistachio ice cream you're getting flamed... sorry not sorry

Matt tells you too often to let him do his job, but you don’t listen to him. Maybe you will after a long work shift, but night after night, you wake up to his daughter crying, mumble an “I’ll get it,” and hush the girl back to sleep, clad in your boyfriend's shirt.

The routine you two had mirrored that of a married couple. Matt wanted it to be his job entirely, but you’d convinced him that whoever gets up first puts Lacey back to sleep. Matt never gets up first.

You walk back into Matt’s room holding your shirt. “She threw up on me.” You purse your lips, peering down at the spit stain with a sour look on your face. Matt laughs. “She wouldn’t have thrown up on you if you let me get her.”

You sigh, peeling off your (Matt’s) shirt and grabbing another from his drawer. “I like getting her,” you hum, sinking into bed again. Matt pulls his arms around your torso, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “You won't like it after another year of it.” Butterflies fill your stomach.

Another year. Another year with Matt.

…

The grocery store was the last thing on Matt’s long to-do list for the weekend.

In the morning, before you realized how many things Matt planned for you to do, you agreed to walk. You regretted that deviation now after nearly footing yourself across the city and back. Your temper was short, and your feet were sore.

Matt presses a kiss to your cheek, noticing your tired eyes. “We just have to get baby food, then we’ll go home,” he mutters. You hum, mumbling out a “fine” and entering the supermarket.

The first thing you notice is how long the checkout lines are, and you groan. Matt notices this and laughs. “You get in line, and I’ll go get the food,” he says. You nod, letting out a moody sigh and taking steer of Lacey's stroller, heading to the checkout line.

You stay put in line, rocking Lacey's stroller back and forth, trying to keep the bustling ambiance of the store from waking her up. You fail, but continue to rock her stroller, this time in an attempt to put her back to sleep.

“You shouldn’t rock her like that. Babies get motion sickness too easily,” an old lady, presumably in her late forties, interjects, approaching you.

You shoot her a pursed smile, slowly halting the stroller rocking. “She likes it when I do it,” you quip.

She peeks at Lacey, who rests her head against the stroller's side, a small string of drool escaping her mouth while she clutches the stuffed bear you’d bought for her.

“She’s adorable, how old is she?”

“One and a half,” you reply curtly, not generally enjoying your conversation with the lady because it always leads to you awkwardly confessing you're not her mother and that you're not married to her father. Not to mention, this woman seems particularly judgy.

The lady nods, encouraging you to go further into detail about Lacey, something you don’t particularly want to do.

Matt approaches from the infant aisle to your ease, clutching Lacey's food. “Hey babe,” he smiles.

You let out a sigh of relief as he approached. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it's making excuses to get out of conversing with others. You wave him over, “Hey,” you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His eyes dart between you and the woman, asking who she is with his gaze. “This is her father?” She asks, returning to Matt. You nod, pursing your lips into a smile. You clutch the bar of Lacey’s stroller and start forward, trying to avoid questions you know are coming:

“How long have you been married?”

“Was the pregnancy terrible?”

“How’d you choose her name?”

All questions you’d gotten—all questions you couldn’t answer.

“It was nice to meet you, ma’am,” you smile. Her eyes glance at your hands as you grip the stroller bar, your left hand specifically. She was looking for a ring. She was looking for a ring and didn’t find one because you weren’t married to Matt nor were you Lacey's mother. The lady's face soured; she paused lightly, pointing to your bare ring finger. “You two aren’t married?”

You sigh awkwardly, stopping dead in your tracks and biting your lip. Who does this lady think she is? “No, we—“

Matt interrupts you, snaking an arm over your shoulder. “Our rings are at the cleaners,” he bites, “The rings are being cleaned because me and my wife have obviously been married for a long time.” He gestures to Lacey as he says this. You flush at Matt’s statement but hold eye contact with the lady, who is now also flustered. She grudgingly spits out an apology. Once she’s out of earshot, you laugh and turn to Matt.

“So, Matthew, when were you going to tell me we’re married?” You smile, and Matt shakes his head. “I have never in my life met a bitchier fifty-year-old woman,” he jeers. You laugh, and then your expression fades to a serious one. “No swearing in front of Lacey!” You chide, raising a finger to his lips. Matt bites his lip playfully, “She’s not sleeping?” You shake your head in response, “She woke up when you went to get the eggs.” Matt leans over the stroller and looks at a very awake Lacey. Once she realizes his attention is on her, she smiles and holds her teddy out to him. “Hi, baby,” he coos, ruffling her thin hair.

You and Matt move up in line, close to the section where last-minute candies are displayed in the store's desperate attempts to drain consumers' money. Fortunately for the business, you are one of those consumers. Matt watches you as you pull a chocolate bar out of the display box, then another, and another, and another.

“Can you buy me these?” You ask, holding the sweets up to him. Matt laughs. “Yes, I’ll buy you those.”

…

“You know, that woman in line was so rude!” You pout, bringing up the incident for the sixth time as you reach Matt's door. Matt laughs, “Why are you letting her get to you this much baby?”

You frown. “I don’t know…” You pause for a second before continuing your rant. “She could’ve just kept her mouth shut! There was no reason she had to ask so many questions about our personal lives,” you huff, “And her perfume smelled bad.”

Matt chuckles at your pettiness and keys open his apartment door. “You have the perfume she was wearing,” he grins, creaking the door open. You step inside.

“No, I don’t. That perfume smelled horrid.”

“It’s the second one to the right on your perfume shelf. You wore it on our first date.”

You blink at his persistence but shake your head. No way you’d wear a perfume that pungent. “Come here,” Matt says, walking to your shared room. You follow behind him, and he points to a small vanilla bottle. “That’s the perfume that lady was wearing,” he points with a smirk on his face. You grab the perfume and spray it on the ball of your wrist. When you bring your arm up to smell it, your eyes widen. It was the perfume the lady was wearing, and the smell made you want to hurl.

You gulp back the contents of your stomach and push Matt to the hall. “Go get Lacey; she’s still in her stroller,” you blurt.

Matt nods and leaves the room. Once he’s out of sight, you make a beeline for the bathroom and empty your guts into the toilet.

You grip the toilet's edges and throw up your breakfast and lunch… to the smell of vanilla.

You stand and flush the toilet, contemplating what the hell just happened. You find the sink and wash your hands and wrists, making sure the soap erased all of the vanilla scent.

You stare at yourself in the mirror. That perfume was one of your signature scents; you wore vanilla and daisy perfume. You’d been leaning into newer scents lately, but there was no way the smell of vanilla would ever make you hurl.

Your train of thought is interrupted by an energetic Lacey. She stomps into the bathroom and grabs your damp hand, leaving you to forget what you were thinking about.

“Show time! Show time!” Lacey repeats, pulling you out of the room with as much force as she can muster. You laugh and walk out with her, and Matt smiles from the sofa when he sees you tread into the room. “We’re watching Tangled,” he announces, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. He pulls Lacey into his lap, and you nestle your head into the crook of his shoulder.

“Whose choice was it?” You joke. Matt smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple, then one to Lacey's. “It was the choice of this little princess,” he smiles, wrapping his arms around Lacey's torso and hugging her close to him.

Lacey falls asleep after the second musical number. That’s when you and Matt stop watching the movie, given it was Lacey’s favorite and you’d seen it several times.

Matt moves Lacey to her crib and meets you in your shared room. Too tired to shower, you peel your shirt off, ready to switch into a nightshirt but pause. “Matt… look at me,” you say, turning to face him.

Matt immediately raises a brow. “Not like that!” You huff, “Stop being perverted!”

Matt raises his hands in innocence. “You're standing there without a shirt on telling me to look at you, and I’m the perverted one?”

You feel your cheeks flushing and bite your lip. “No, like— do you notice anything different?”

“You look beautiful, Y/N.”

”Yeah, but—“

Matt cuts you off. “Your body is perfect exactly like that.”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “No—Matt! Do my boobs look bigger?!” You exclaim.

Matt's eyes widen at your outburst. He takes the opportunity to study your chest (for far too long) before nodding, “Yeah, they do look bigger.”

He approaches behind you and cups your tits with his palms, giving them a slight squeeze. You wince at his motion, sucking your teeth. “Fuck. Sorry! Did that hurt?” Matt immediately drops his hands.

You shake your head, “No, I don’t know why I did that,” you fabricate, lying through your teeth.

Matt pecks butterfly kisses down your neck. “Let's go to bed.”

…

Lacey rarely disagrees with you. She disagrees with Matt plenty, but when it comes to you, you're her biggest role model.

She does not want to leave the park. You don’t know how to get her to leave the park without putting your foot down, and something you're incapable of doing is being stern with Lacey.

“Lace, c’mon, let's go to daddy.”

“No.” Lacey crosses her arms. ”Hunny, it's time to go home.” You try.

“No.”

“Lacey—“ The toddler ignores you, and your lip starts to tremble. Where is this flood of emotion coming from?

You try one more time before Lacey’s constant rebuffs break you, and crocodile tears start streaming down your face.

“Y/N?”

Matt's hand is on your shoulder, urging you to get up from your crouching position. You stand up and attempt to wipe your tears away with the back of your hand.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He questions, picking Lacey up to hold her at his hip. You sniffle. “She wont listen to me.”

Lacey protests loudly as Matt picks her up, babbling little “no’s” repeatedly. “Lace, do you want ice cream?” Matt coos, effectively pacifying the toddler who loudly babbles in response.

Matt is confused, judging by how many chocolate bars you’d purchased earlier, he guessed you were on your period, but he heavily doubted anything Lacey said or did would make you this emotional period or not.

“Y/N, is everything at work okay?”

You nod, urging him that everything is fine. It’s the truth. Matt doesn’t quite believe you, skepticism laced in his eyes.

“Do both of my girls need ice cream?” He asks. You nod.

Pistachio ice cream is disgusting. This was something you and Matt both agreed on: If you order pistachio ice cream, you're over the age of fifty or you have broken taste buds.

So when you lean over the counter and ask the clerk behind the glass for a large pistachio ice cream, Matt stares at you with a mix of confusion and amusement but follows in ordering Lacey a kiddie-sized vanilla.

“You ordered pistachio ice cream,” Matt teases, bopping Lacey's nose with his finger, and she laughs. “She ordered pistachio ice cream, Lace, isn’t that weird.”

It’s obvious Lacey doesn’t know what he’s saying, but she still giggles at her father's antics. You cross your arms playfully, “shut up.” You huff, spooning the ice cream into your mouth.

You and Matt walk slowly out of the park because Lacey’s on foot. You're halfway done with your ice cream when you stop abruptly, and the pieces finally connect in your mind.

You’d been moody - period moody but weren’t on your period. You threw up at one of your favorite scents and ordered pistachio ice cream for god sake.

Holy shit.

“Matt, I think I’m pregnant,” you blurt.

Matt stops dead in his tracks when your words process in his head. His mouth falls into a slight ‘o’ shape, and he grips Lacey's hand slightly tighter.

You look at him and wince at his initial reaction, starting to feel a lump form in your throat. “I-is that bad?” You ask.

Matt swallows harshly. “No-no, baby it's not bad, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

He picks up Lacey, who’s looking back and forth between the two of you in confusion, and buckles her in her stroller, gripping the handlebar with one hand to give his full attention to you.

He studied your face; your eyes were reddish as you looked up at him. You breathed, waiting for Matt to break the silence.

“Let’s stop by the pharmacy on the way home, yeah?” Matt grips your hand, giving you an encouraging squeeze. You nod, knowing your voice will betray you if you try to speak.

You hesitate at the pharmacy’s entrance once you get there. Matt takes quick notice of this. “You stay here with Lacey; I’ll go in - I’ll be thirty seconds.”

“Ok.” You smile lightly at him and take a turn with the stroller.

…

You subconsciously lock yourself in the bathroom when you get home. You didn’t mean to lock Matt out, but you didn’t have the courage to do this with him.

You’re internally freaking out and trying to ground yourself by telling yourself “It’s just peeing on a stick.” This does the opposite of calming your heart rate.

You view the test. Two lines - positive. You freeze in place for a moment before Matt creaks the door open, “Baby, you’ve been in here forty min…”

Silence stifles his words once he sees the positive test in your grasp. “You're pregnant,” he smiles.

Your mind is overwhelmed with new information, and your mouth runs dry, unable to speak. You hug Matt tightly, clinging to him, knowing that's what you need to calm yourself down. “I won't be a good mother,” you mutter into his chest.

Matt's look hardens. “Have you seen yourself with Lacey? You’re a natural. You put her to sleep, feed her, you have the most controlled temper I’ve ever seen, and she loves you, Y/N.”

You frown. “Are you forgetting I’m here?” Matt continues, “I was a single dad for a year; you're going to have support baby.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I'm going to take care of you.”

A small smile creeps onto your face with Matt's encouragement. Matt notices your change in face and smiles, “We're going to have a baby.”

The realization sinks in, and you laugh, repeating Matt’s words. “We're going to have a baby.”

Matt ushers you to the bed where you sit down. There’s a bottle of Gatorade on the bed stand and one of your chocolate bars. “Electrolytes,” Matt smiles, handing you the drink which you steadily down.

You sit for a moment in content silence before you speak up, “Where’s Lacey?”

”The sitter came and picked her up, thought we needed some alone time.”

You laugh, “Alone time is good.” Matt nods, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “It’s my fault… the shit I said at the hotel.”

You can tell he’s too nervous to admit what he said and smirk, “You mean when you said you wanted to breed me and then begged to come inside of me… yeah, I think this is your fault,” you tease.

Matt laughs wholeheartedly and presses a kiss to your lips, pecking you twice. Then he pecks your forehead, above your brow, and both of your cheeks before he’s back to your lips in a full-on make-out session.

“I love you.” He presses a hand to your stomach.

Matt nudges his nose against yours, tilting his head to get better access to your lips. His lips taste minty from his ice cream sample. You take his scent in, the mix of his shampoo and Lacey's baby powder.

His stubble grazes your face as he leans over you. You laugh lightly into his mouth as the stubble tickles your cheeks. He feels wonderful.

Your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, cupping them. Your stomach felt fuzzy - your head felt fuzzy - and he didn’t stop moving his lips against yours. His hands roam your back and send goosebumps up your spine. When you pull away gasping for oxygen Matt pecks your neck. An innocent action coming from him. His hands prod your waist, sliding from your back to your stomach. He gently squeezes your sides and grips your waist lightly.

“I love you.” He presses a kiss behind your ear. “I love you.” He repeats. Another kiss followed.

You smile, you love it when he’s sappy. You cup his cheeks and press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “I love you too Matt.”

“Since I got you pregnant do you think we should get married?”

You play along, raising an eyebrow. “Get me a ring and I’ll think about it.”

some photos i took from emerson college’s encampment for palestine. most of these were taken only a few hours before the boston PD attacked hundreds of protestors and brutally arrested 108 students, most of whom were poc, jewish, and/or queer.

anyone who spent any amount of time in the encampment will tell you just how much it brought us all together—there was always food, music, arts and crafts, and hundreds of messages of support written in chalk.

after the BPD was done brutalising us for peacefully protesting, they power washed down the walls of the encampment—all of these messages are gone. theyre trying to erase what happened, but they’ll never truly be able to. everyone saw, and everyone will remember.

This is giving Nick holding Matt’s kid until they cry or need a diaper change; He’s like “yup I’m out” lol #AlwaysAnUncleNeveraDad

(And the “I know” by matt at the end it’s so reassurin😭)