Just A Reminder You Don’t Support Palestine If You Continue To Support Companies And Brands That Are

A little add on to my last thought

How could you be best friends with someone and then not even a month after they break up with their boyfriend you get with them. It just doesn't make sense to me. How could you know someone and trust them for 2 years, put two years of effort into this friendship just to throw it all down the drain over a guy. I just don't get how people could do that to other people. Like sure I liked him but I'm putting myself off because I respect her and I'm good fucking friend.

The double standard 🤮

Also when israeli diaper force snipes 4 year old, media says "accidentally a stray bullet found its way into a 3-4 year old young lady"

I just wait for the day when israel has to pay for everything it has done. We will never forgive, we will never forget.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ BACK TO DECEMBER MASTERLIST

[CURRENTLY DISCONTINUED]

↳ summary: in which chris navigates his hockey career with his number one cheerleader by his side, no matter what, or so he thought. when the going gets tough for y/n, navigating having a superstar boyfriend and another surprise on the way, she doesn’t know if she can handle the pressure anymore.

↳ pairings: boston bruins!player chris sturniolo x fem!reader

↳ warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions and descriptions of violent fights, verbal arguments, unplanned pregnancy, discussion of abortions, comments from the other team and hecklers, open ending, angst, angst, angst, and more angst. each chapter will be introduced with the corresponding warnings.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

↳ 0.01: SAYIN’ SORRY FOR THAT NIGHT: in which y/n is greeted by a sudden revelation on the night of chris’ most anticipated game, the one that determines whether or not the bruins get into the playoffs and she’s left apologizing for the night that caused it all.

↳ 0.02: SWALLOWIN’ MY PRIDE: in which chris is forced to swallow his pride as he comes to terms with the news that y/n has shared, realizing it’s not just her fault. however when he mentions the alternatives, he fails to see how much it hurts his girlfriend.

↳ 0.03 BUSIER THAN EVER: in which chris busies himself with training and practices, not realizing that it’s driving a wedge between him and y/n, leading her to believe that he’s hiding his true feelings about telling the world about their child.

↳ 0.04 SMALL TALK, WORK & THE WEATHER: in which y/n turns to a friend after everything that’s happened, and chris feels like she’s shutting him out, so to the best of his efforts he sets up a date night at home and things turn serious as the reality of everything sets in.

↳ 0.05 THE DARK DAYS: in which chris misses an extremely important appointment and y/n has had enough, the pressure of their arriving child getting to both of them. and a nasty fight leaves them sleeping in separate beds for an indefinite amount of time.

↳ taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @strawberrysturniolo @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @carolsturns1 @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @cutenote @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @33sturniolo @heartz4chris @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi

© 55STURN 2024 [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

💀ily nick

I am Jewish. I am an anti-Zionist. I am always and forever pro-Palestine.

My grandmother was born in Palestine before Israel existed. My grandmother, who died less than a decade ago (in her 70s) was already older than the settler colonial state of Israel. Judaism exists without Zionism. Zionism goes against the Jewish religion. Zionism is white supremacy.

From the river to the sea Palestine WILL BE FREE

i want to smoke a sativa blunt to this song

leaked

synopsis - matt and shy!reader's sex tape gets leaked.

pairing - matt sturniolo x shy!reader

content warnings- smut, angst, mentions of panic attacks,etc.

requested by anon

matt sturniolo, your ex fling. you would say boyfriend but it wasn't even that.

a summer fling with matt was what you had. you both spent the past summer fucking around. your relationship with matt was good but the sex was even better. but all good things come to an end.

after a summer of rendezvous you and matt went your separate ways. you back to college and matt back to la to be a pursue his youtube career. back to the life you had before you met him, back to normal. during your time together you and matt were very risky and frisky, having sex in public places, taking risky polaroids, and filming sex tapes.

matt had all your sex tapes on his computer in a private folder, he thought he deleted them after you guys broke things off but apparently not. he was beyond confused when his phone began blowing up.

dude did you see the video?, your tape got leaked, check twitter, is this real? was what his messages consisted of. matt ran to check twitter and of course the search matt sturniolo leaked was trending. he clicked it and was bombarded with nude images and videos. his fingers tapped on the first video he saw and his jaw dropped.

matt was met with your contorted face and your naked body. curse him for liking missionary so much. the video progressed and it was just filthy steamy sex. matt couldn't peel his eyes away from it. the way his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, they way you moaned his name, the way your breasts bounced as he fucked into you and your face, the face he just had to keep shoving the camera in. he loved the way you looked when you were in pure bliss and he couldn't help but focus on it.

back then he felt good recording your intimate moments but now he felt like an asshole. if he hadn't recorded then it wouldn't have been spreading like wildfire all over the internet. the worst part of it all is that your face was so clearly in it and he knew how you felt about social media. you hated it, you didn't like people watching your every move. you hated unecessary attention.

matt didn't know how to reach out to you. what was he supposed to say? hey our sex tape got leaked! can we talk?. he felt awful about this whole thing. his face was barely in it and the only reason it was traced back to him was because of his distinct tattoo's and the moans of his name that slipped out.

on the other end you were feeling more than just bad. you had been panicking and throwing up since your best friend called you and broke the news. you felt violated and gross, your everything was in that video. it was hot back then now it felt disgusting. now that thousands of people have seen you like this it was anything but sexy.

your phone buzzing rapidly broke you out of your upcoming panic attack. you picked it up to see matt calling you, speak of the fucking devil. you both hadn't spoken in months, and this being the reason you hear his voice again is devastating.

it was silent until matt spoke up. "sweetheart?". "m-matt" you stuttered out. it felt weird hearing his voice again. you played with your fingers nervously as you waited for him to speak, to explain, to tell you how the fuck this happened. he took a deep breath before responding "i'm so fuckin sorry for this i don't know how the fuck this happened and i'm gonna work on getting it removed but i wanted to reach out to you and apologize personally before handling the hard stuff".

"how did this happen matt? i trusted you fully and you promised me that nobody but us was going to see it!" you said. tears welled up in your eyes and your voice cracked as you were speaking louder than normal. matt sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. he hated hearing you get so emotional. it was out of character for you. you never got loud or had such emotion in your words.

"i'm sorry i thought i deleted them after we split and i keep everything that happened between us so fucking private i swear" matt tried explaining. "please believe me i had nothing to do with this and i will do anything to make it up to you, to fix this" he pleaded with you. your sobs echoed through the phone as you cried, you never wanted any of this. "how matt? how could you possibly fix this" you sighed.

"i don't know but please let me try"

THE MF FROM Z-O-M-B-I-E-S ?!?!?!?!!?!?! 💀💀💀💀💀💀

- 🚑

YEAH THIS GUY 😁

I would dieeee for some more of Spencer and bombshell after her getting injured😭 him taking such good care of her, the BEST doctors, researching every single option😭 reassuring her rhats shes just as pretty😭

—Spencer looks after you while you recover from a brutal injury. fem!reader, 1.1k

Spencer thinks it’s one of the team's more gruesome injuries. Hotch has been stabbed to mince meat and Emily half-killed, Elle got shot, and he’s had his fair share of violence, too, but he can’t imagine the horror of being hit in the face with a hammer. The pain so close to your eyes, your teeth, your brain, the fear and the sudden crack. He feels sick whenever he remembers the sound, and he was sick the first time he dreamt about the way you cried as it happened. Your strange yelp, the immediate drop to the floor. 

Spencer never hit somebody as hard as he did that UnSub. His gun whipped out possessed across the UnSub’s face, and then drove forward into their nose with a stomach turning crunch. 

They’re in custody, and you’re in bed recovering with some of the best doctors in the world. Spencer thinks you both won this round, even if it doesn’t feel like a win right now. 

“Shh,” he whispers, “shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, don’t cry.” 

You cling to his chest as though worried he’s going to move out of reach, sobbing. You’re careful not to touch your face or his chest, the soreness too much, but the rest of you is clinging to him. You don’t have to worry, he’s not going anywhere. 

“Please, it’s okay,” he says, the tip of his nose to your forehead. “You can have another dose in twenty minutes. Just twenty minutes.” 

He supposes the pain reminds you of the full extent of the injury, your jaw fractured in two places, your gum traumatised, your face more bruise than anything else. You hate your appearance being out of your control, it’s making you panic —he can feel you shaking.

He’d sat down with your drink to find you already crying, he couldn’t have been gone for ten minutes, but it was long enough for you to fall deep into the throes of hysteria. You’d grappled for him as he sat down to hug you, your face hidden ever since, and now the shakes have started. He’s hopeless. 

But Spencer’s willing to do anything to make it better. “Can you tell me what’s upsetting you? Please?” he asks.

“It’s–” Harder sobbing, your tears dripping down from your chin to wet the thigh of his pants.

He has to calm you down.

Since you met Spencer, you’ve been the comforter. He can’t count how many times something has hurt him and you’ve rushed to save him. You’ve hugged and held and kissed him into smiling, you’ve never let him down, you’ve forgiven him after a hundred stupid mistakes, so Spencer doesn’t care that you’ve been inconsolable for days. He really doesn’t mind that he’s had to look after you this attentively. It’s his pleasure, and he’s getting better at it. 

He presses a few soft shushes somewhere in your hairline, his hand rubbing a circuit into your back with a firm pressure that never tips into roughness. He does it until his palm is numb. He could paint the slant of your back from muscle memory, fingers tripping down the creased fabric of your pyjamas, pulling back up to your neck. He’s never felt such tender sympathy. He hates that you’re in pain, but he doesn’t hate getting to rub your back. This is surely boyfriend territory. 

“You want something to drink now?” he asks quietly. 

You open your mouth to answer, sighing in pain momentarily. “Uh, yeah.” 

“Did you want the straw?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” He can’t force himself away. “You okay for me to move you?” 

“Yeah.” 

You can’t be blamed for short answers. 

There are surgeries to hold your jaw together when it breaks, and while you were unconscious (shock, rather than head injury), Hotch consented as your next of kin for the doctors to make sure things wouldn’t get worse, but it was Spencer who had to advocate for you afterwards. They’d wanted a metal connector to prevent dislocation. Spencer knew this could mean another scar, so he said no, because you might’ve said no had you been awake, and they should’ve asked you anyways. 

When you did wake up, you were vehemently against it. Which is fine, you can heal without it, but it’s scarier to do it unaided. Your jaw could dislocate if you do something wrong, which is not only horrifically painful, but a painfully horrific injury to have. You talk quietly. You take small mouthfuls of soft foods. 

Spencer looks at you now, tearstained, back arched like a kicked dog, and doesn’t know what to do. He wishes he were the one who got injured instead. 

He takes the hospital bed controls into his hand and presses the button to make the top of your mattress elevate. Tomorrow, they’ll send you home, and Spencer will have to construct a nest of pillows for you to sit in while you recover, but it’ll be worth it. Things won’t feel as intimidating when you’re in your own bed. 

“Lean back, beautiful,” he says. 

Your smile is a straight line with eyes lit up. “What for?” you ask. 

“Comfier. Less stress on your head.” You lean back. “Oh,” he adds, “and so I can get a better view of you.” 

Your eyes get impossibly brighter. “What do you think?” you murmur. Your voice sounds scratched to death from crying, tight from holding your mouth a certain way, but pleased anyways. It’s just as pretty as it always is to him. 

“You’re the prettiest girl in the world,” he says, reaching out to cradle your waist, his hand moving up and down the side of you tenderly. 

You have a bruise from under your left eye and bleeding down your neck, and you haven’t slept right for a few days, but you’re undeniably beautiful in Spencer’s eyes. 

You’ve been the most beautiful girl in the world literally from the day you met onward, with as much to do with your heart as your lovely face. He should tell you that, but he doesn’t. 

“Can I have water now?” you ask, covering his hand with yours. 

His confidence wobbles. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Sorry.” He grabs your drink, water spilling down the side to wet his hand. 

“Please don’t make me laugh.” 

“I’m not trying to,” he says pathetically. 

He holds the cup of water to your face and you guide the straw between your lips. Spencer’s sure he’s been in love with you forever, and it’s all but cemented now.