𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐁𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 | 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞

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

- 🚑

YEAH THIS GUY 😁

Did you see the video where Israeli soldiers dressed up like Muslim women and doctors and stormed the hospital in the West Bank and assassinated 3 young Palestinians?⁣

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Did you see the bloody pillow with the bullet hole in it?⁣

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THIS IS WHO THEY MURDERED IN THAT BED. A paralyzed CHILD named Bassel. ⁣

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This video was taken just one day before Israel literally shot him in the face in his bed. ⁣

⁣

Just when you think they can’t get any lower, they do. I don’t care what lies they tell about this child, it is illegal EVERYWHERE to do what they did. ⁣

⁣

This kid had nothing to do with October 7th. And anything else he did, you simply aren’t allowed to go into a hospital and murder a paralyzed child. ⁣

⁣

It’s CRAZY that we even have to say this. ⁣

⁣

And the White House actually defended this today, but it was before this video was released. ⁣

for now, let’s get away ~c. sturniolo x reader

drummer!chris x reader au

this took me i’m not kidding three weeks to finish and i still hate the end omfg. i hope yall like it. this was the chris fic i was teasing for fucking ever. this shit is 7.7k words.

this is the second to last thing i have to post before i leave 🥹. all that’s left is the finale to number neighbors (ik i said two more parts but i changed my mind cause the part 15 was pretty much perfect and there’s nothing more for me to do but end it on a funny silly note so). i love u all so much pls tell me what u thinks bout this i worked so fucking hard LOL. okay bye MWAH ENJOYYYYY

there’s lights flashing, smoke billowing through the air and scattered screams floating through the semi-crowded bar. y/n sits with her group of three, nursing a too-strong cocktail, watching the band on stage with interested eyes.

her eyes keep wandering back to the drummer, a long haired, brunette that’s hammering down on his instrument like there’s no tomorrow. she’s already deduced that they’ve got to be siblings, him and the lead, because honestly she thought she was seeing double from the moment her and her friends walked in.

they’re performing a cover of hole in the earth, by deftones, a song that she adores, which is honestly making her shift in her seat slightly. the drummer wears a long sleeved, black and white shirt, red stars on the shoulders. his hair is falling down into his face, which he pushes back in between his parts, causing the light to reflect off of a silver bracelet hanging off his wrist.

y/n’s been staring at him shamelessly the entire performance. he’s hot and talented and she’s a little bit tipsy so her art of subtlety is very much off. not that she cares.

he’d been looking at her too, periodically through the show. she’d caught his eyes more than once, opting for a small smirk and look away, usually to his carbon copy on the mic. it makes him shake his head with a smile every time.

her attention is shifted from the stage when her best friend nudges her. “you and the drummer have been eye fucking since the moment they got up there.” there’s teasing to her tone and y/n just shrugs.

“well, look at him,” she claps when they announce that they’re done for the night and start to thank the crowd. “how could i not?”

her other friend, who’s standing in front of her nods with a dreamy sigh, “you’re so real for that. i think i’ve been staring open mouthed at the singer for like half an hour.”

y/n laughs, looking back at the stage. she’s disappointed to see the band gone, their empty set up the only thing left in their wake. she picks up her drink, finishing it, before calling the bartender over to get another one.

before she can say anything though, a voice cuts through. “whatever she wants, make it two.”

y/n looks up, surprise filling her face. mr drummer man was right beside her, damp hair and wide smile blinding her. she raised an eyebrow before giving her order, then turning in her stool to face him.

“do you typically buy drinks for every girl that’s at your shows?”

he laughs, short and breathy. “only if they look like you do.” he says, leaning forward so she can hear him better. “and if they spend my entire set staring me down with eyes as pretty as yours.”

warmth spreads through her cheeks, but she doesn’t falter. “nice one.” she takes a sip as the drinks are placed in front of them. “wonder how many times you’ve used that one.”

drummer boy leans his elbow on the bar, slotting his body in the space between her and the person in the next seat. “maybe like, six times. but it doesn’t make it less true.”

she laughs, throwing her head back just the tiniest bit. “you’re unbelievable.”

“i’ve been told once or twice.” he runs a hand through his hair. “you have no idea.”

y/n feels loopy, between the alcohol in her veins and the warmth in her stomach from his attention, she thinks she might be in for a little bit of trouble here.

“i’m just kidding though. i noticed you pretty much the second i got on stage.” his eyes are so blue it’s freaking her out. in a good way, though. “knew i had to look for you afterwards.”

y/n raises her eyebrow. “oh, you had a plan?”

“of course i did. no way was i letting you walk out of here without talking to you.”

she knows it’s a line, knows his type. the smooth talking, shit-eating grin that could make any girl fall to their knees. part of her wants to ignore him, just for the sake of it. but a much bigger, much more attracted to him, so badly it’s putting crazy thoughts in her head, part of her is incredibly down for the chase.

y/n turns to look at her friends, who are now talking to the rest of the band. she chuckles, seeing her best friend and the lead singer basically pressed up against each other talking, her looking up at him with what y/n knows are the eyes. her other close friend is talking to who she thinks is the guitarist and a new face, who coincidentally looks exactly the other two.

when she turns back to the boy in front of her, she picks up her drink, looking him dead in the eyes. she’s not entirely doing it on purpose, wrapping her glossed lips around the straw slowly, before putting her glass back down on the bar, but she can tell that it takes a toll on him.

drummer boy blows at a breath, moving his eyes from her lips back up to her eyes. “can i know your name now? or do i have to beg?”

he’s slightly closer to her now. she can smell his cologne in the space between them, and now can see the silver dog tag that hangs from his neck. she notices the silver hoop in his right nostril that she didn’t see before. it makes a chill go down her spine.

“hm,” she basically purrs. “you begging me for something has a nice ring to it.”

the smirk in the corner of his mouth widens. “i’ll beg you for anything you want, sweetheart.”

she decides to stop torturing him. “y/n.” she offers him her hand.

he looks down, bigger one enveloping hers immediately. his hand is warm and slightly rough. it makes her shift again. “chris.”

chris, she thinks. of course his name is chris.

“so who’s in the band with you? cause it’s kind of freaking me out how much you look alike.”

he lets her hand go, not without lingering slightly. “my brother matt,” he looks up and laughs. “who is five seconds away from making out with your friend right now, is the lead. nick’s the photographer and does the behind the scenes shit. jack is just our friend.”

she nods, “triplets.”

“yeah, unfortunately.” his eyes are fond. “i’m the best looking one by far though.”

y/n rolls her eyes, ready to humble him through a lie, when all of sudden there’s a shout behind them.

“she said get lost, you fucking loser.” nick says, standing in front of the friend of y/n’s that isn’t attached to matt.

the presumably drunk asshole sneers at him, “i’m sure she can speak for herself, dickhead.”

“i did speak for myself, dumbass.” her friend says, rolling her eyes. “i’m not interested, not even in the slightest. walk away.”

“you’re not all that anyway, bitch.”

matt speaks next, “watch your fucking mouth, bro.”

chris can tell it’s getting out of hand when the guy keeps taking steps forward, matt’s hand on nick’s arm to stop what feels inevitable. y/n’s friend scoffs. “i was ten seconds ago when you thought, for some odd reason, that you could ever approach me.”

the guy doesn’t seem to like that answer or the various insults the group of them keep giving him, so he shoves past nick and gets right in her face.

y/n takes less than three seconds to throw her drink and shove him backward, causing him to stumble into another drunk asshole, which doesn’t end well.

there’s liquor flying everywhere, fists being thrown and all out chaos in the bar, causing security to come bustling through the crowd. people have started to fight just for the hell of it, and now they’ve got to go.

chris grabs y/n’s hand, tugging her towards the back exit. “we’ve got to go, now.” despite the chaos, he’s grinning, and she kinda wants to kiss him.

her eyes find her best friends, shoving through people recklessly. when she gets to them, they’re laughing incredulously at the chaos they’ve all inadvertently caused.

“i think i’m gonna go with chris,” y/n says over the madness.

“you don’t even know him!” her friend replies, eyebrows sky high.

“yeah,” she says, looking back to chris who is urging her forward. “but i think i want to.”

her other friend grins ear to ear, looking back at his brothers. “go. text us wherever you end up. we’re going with them.”

they shout love you’s and go in opposite directions, her friends with the band and her with chris.

he takes her hand as security gets into the main crowd, pulling her through expertly. once they get to the back door they’re running, fast and hard, feet slapping against the pavement.

she can hear their laughter roaring in her ears, can feel both their pulses in her fingertips where her and chris’ hands connect. it’s crazy, her following him blindly.

she couldn’t even pretend to be bothered by it.

***

“i can’t believe i actually just ran from a bar brawl with you,” y/n says, texting her friends to make sure they ended up okay. they told her that they were at a diner right now with the rest of the band, safe and sound.

chris is also texting, his brothers she assumes, before he slides his phone back into his pocket. “i can’t believe you started the bar brawl.”

his face and tone is teasing. she rolls her eyes, nudging his shoulder as they walk side by side down the city streets. “i did not start it. that drunk dick that couldn’t take no for an answer did.”

chris’ hands are in his pockets as he leads her down the road. she thinks, hopes he knows where he’s going. “i know. it’s just funny watching your face twist up.”

they don’t say anything as they continue their path. they’re in what looks like another bar strip, except it’s pretty much deserted. there’s walls with beautiful graffiti next to them, parking meters decorating the sides of the sidewalk. the street lights are on and bright, and occasionally a car will speed down the one way road like a bat out of hell.

y/n pulls her jacket, which she managed to grab off her bar stool before they escaped, around her tighter. december in new jersey was unforgiving, and the short skirt and fur lined tights she had on weren’t doing enough to protect her from the cold. she’s just glad she opted for vans tonight.

she looks over to the man next to her, hands shoved in his front pockets and hair falling into his eyes. chris’ nose and cheeks are dusted pink from the cold air, and she wants to brush it out of his face. so she does.

she stops him in the middle of the sidewalk, grabbing his arm. he looks at her quizzically, breathing soft. she reaches up and rakes a hand through the soft, brown locks, positioning it so she could continue to see his eyes. he lips turn upwards.

“where are we going?” she says, her arm falling back to her side.

he nods his head towards a car parked a little bit away. “my car.”

she cocks her head. “why the hell are you parked this far from where you’re performing?”

“we were here earlier,” chris says, walking ahead. she follows. “after we set up at the Phoenix, we came here to get some drinks. too much time to kill led to a round of drunk pool. we ubered to the show.”

she doesn’t know him very well, but she knows it makes sense. “very professional.”

chris unlocks his car, leaning over and opening the passenger door. he leans his forearm on the roof of the car, grinning. “that’s rock and roll baby.”

she scoffs a laugh. “never say that, ever again.”

he laughs too. “yeah, alright.”

once they’re settled in the car, chris hands her the aux. she looks at him, surprised. “you want me to play music?”

he nods. “it’s a good character tester. show me what you got.”

she thinks there’s something more underneath the words. she takes the challenge. “you’re on.”

chris pulls off into the night just as pyramids starts.

***

something y/n had never understood was magnets. sure, they had a specific and concrete explanation, scientifically proven, but it just never really settled in her brain right. the concept of push and pull and attraction to metal was a mystery to her.

she kind of feels like a a stray paper clip right now, though. as chris glides through the streets of jersey she’s encapsulated with the way the fleeting lights ghost over his face, outlining his jaw. he’s got one hand on the wheel and one on the middle console, which makes her wish he’d reach a little further to the flesh of her thigh.

when he parks in the back of a big building that she knows far too well, she’s mystified. “why the hell are we at my childhood rec center right now?”

chris leans forward, looking out the windshield. he shrugs. “i didn’t even know that’s where we were. i was just driving to be honest.”

y/n notices the pull towards him again. cause what a coincidence right?

she unfastens her seatbelt and turns her body towards him, leaning her back against her door. “so what made you wanna be a drummer?”

the question seems to come out of nowhere, to chris at least, but he welcomes it. he copies her movements, facing her as well. his seat is pulled all the way back. “just always loved music. so has matt. my brothers are my best friends, so getting a chance to create music with them seemed like a life i’d always wanna live.”

she loves that answer. makes her heartbeat a little faster. “big softie.”

chris smiles wide, teeth poking out. “kind of.” he fiddles with the steering wheel cover. y/n has noticed that he’s always moving in some capacity. fingers always twitching or drumming on a surface, hands in his hair, cracking his neck— he can never sit still. “what’s your thing?”

she thinks. “don’t know if i have one.”

he tuts. “everyone has a thing.”

her eyes laser focus on his necklace. she’s searching her brain for the best thing to say, but keeps coming up short. there were things she loved, books, movies, art— but there was nothing that really made her feel like she could do it forever. it made her feel boring in comparison.

“i don’t know, really.”

chris looks at her like he’s trying to decode a riddle. she kind of shrinks under the gaze. “i think you’re holding back.” she rolls her eyes, because she doesn’t know what else to do. “but even if that’s true, you’ve got time. nobody has everything figured out.”

the words are comforting, but a little too heavy for the night. what she’s going to do with her life is so not the conversation she wants to be having with the hot drummer she ran away from a bar fight with.

“thank you so much, dr. chris.” he laughs, shaking his head. y/n has a sudden stroke of recklessness genius. she smiles like a cheshire cat, slow growing and completely mesmerizing to the boy across from her.

“what’s with the evil smile? you’re freaking me out.” except he’s lying. he’s quite literally hanging on to her every word.

“let’s go.” she’s climbing over the middle console now, stopping briefly on his lap before reaching for his door. why she just didn’t get out on her side, she doesn’t know. she does. the inexplicable need to be close to him compels her to do it. stupid fucking magnet theory.

before she can grasp it though, chris’s hands plant themselves firmly on her hips. she looks down at him, raising an eyebrow. he just grins up at her, looking peacefully.

“just give me a minute. this is pretty much the view i was imagining the entire show while looking at you.” y/n feels herself pulse at the sentence. “it’s even better than i could’ve ever pictured it.”

“dirty dog,” she teases, but settles down anyway.

“oh come on,” he replies. his hands are wandering the tiniest bit, brushing the curve of her spine. “you’re telling me all your thoughts of me have been perfectly respectable?”

she scoffs in amusement. “you need to be humbled, like immediately. maybe the fame’s going to your head.” she trails her eyes down his chest where their bodies connect. “and there’s no telling which one.”

chris chuckles. “not my style, sugar.”

“oh?” y/n leans down, head above him and hair acting as a curtain around them. “am i your first groupie?”

the smirk that slides on to his face is sweltering. his fingers are rubbing circles into the skin of her back and she forces herself not to shiver at the feeling.

“is that what’s going on here? i thought we were just hanging out.” there’s a sly smile on his mouth, eyes implying less than pure things. he leans up on his elbows, causing his hands to disappear. she misses the touch as soon as it’s gone. there’s barely an inch apart. “looks like i’m not the only one who had a plan. hm?”

she shoves his shoulder, causing him to lay back flat with a laugh. “you’ve bumped your head on one too many tour buses.”

y/n opens the car door, reaching down and grabbing his hand. chris lets her pull him up. he’s still laughing. “what are we doing?”

“being quiet,” she says, leading them to the back door she’d seen almost every night back in her teenage years. “not a word.” she warns.

she’d left her purse in the car, but it doesn’t really matter. pulling a bobby pin from her hair, she gets to work jamming it into the lock and wiggling it around. she can feel chris’ body heat behind her, and the cold air makes her want to sink into it. she’s a woman on a mission though, so she pushes the thought from her head.

she smirks when the lock clicks, like always, and pulls the door open. “lets go.”

the surprise on chris’ face is evident. he’s cautious, looking all around him. “are you insane? we are not breaking into a community center right now.”

y/n leans on the door with her arms across her chest. “scared?”

“very much, yes.” he looks at her with something incredulous in his eyes. “don’t really feel like getting arrested tonight.”

she rolls her eyes. “i promise you this isn’t the first, tenth or hundredth time i’ve done this.” she moves to stand directly in front of him then. “it’s a jersey teen rite of passage. we’ll be fine.”

he looks unsure, but he’d be kidding himself if he thought he could ever say no to her. the way she’s looking at him, with wide, sparkling eyes and plump, glossy red lips stretched into a smile that makes his heart thud. he’s a goner. already.

“fine.” he says, despite his better judgement. “lead the way, miss criminal.”

she just laughs as she pulls him inside. the sound makes him think that everything could go to shit in a matter of minutes, and it would all be worth it.

***

the sounds of their foot steps echo through the abandoned space. y/n leads chris through the darkness with expertise, helping him dodge strewn about chairs and walls that he nearly smacked into several times.

she’s giggling like a mad woman, making chris’ lips freeze in a permanent smile at the sound. when they get to where she wants to be she stops and tells him to close his eyes.

he hears the sound of a switch or two, and when he opens his eyes he’s met with a giant community sized pool and some bleachers in front of it. there’s a couple overhead lights, some benches lining the sides of the pool. it looks exactly like what you’d picture a rec center pool would look like.

the thing that catches his eyes though is the graffiti that paints the walls around him. vibrant colors and designs that are so intricate he can’t even wrap his head around it. he’s in awe. when y/n comes to stand in front of him, he looks from the wall to her still dumbfounded.

“this is fucking sick.” he travels to see the art up close, running his hands along the pictures. there’s a flurry of random images with a distinct style chris could never figure out the name for, but all his eyes and brain can register is that it’s fucking beautiful. “have these always been here?”

y/n is looking at the wall with nostalgia swirling through her irises. “kind of. there were a bunch of random additions over the years and it just became this big piece. heard the artist got caught a bunch of times but nothing could stop them.”

chris scoffs. “um, yeah, if i was this good at anything artistic i’d draw that shit on everything too.”

she laughs, turning to him with a mischievous look. he raises an eyebrow at her, questioning what the look was for. she doesn’t say anything, just leans down and starts taking off her shoes.

chris watches her with raised interest, heartbeat speeding up when she gets to the hem of her shirt. “i’m confused on the signals i’m getting right now.”

she shrugs, “strip.”

and with that she pulls of her top, exposing her deep red bra. chris’ eyes trace the valley of her chest and even though he feels like a dick, he can’t help it. he already thought she was the most beautiful girl he’d seen clothed, so her stripping in front of him wasn’t doing him or the pants he was wearing any favors. not to mention that moment in the car was constantly burning through his brain, making him hear. for her touch.

her skirt is off in the next second, and she’s looking at chris like he’s missing an opportunity. “are you gonna stand there and creep on me or are you gonna take your clothes off?”

he’s snapped out of the trance he was in and sends her a sheepish grin. “i’m still kinda lost on what we’re doing right now.”

y/n walks to him slowly, hair fanning out around her shoulders. chris find his hands itching to bury themselves in it, pulling, grasping or even just playing with it softly. when she’s right in front of him, he looks down at her. the sight nearly knocks him off his feet. she’s peering up at him through her eyelashes, eyes dark and sensual, mouth quirked up in a sinful smile. she brings her hands to the waistband of his cargo pants, toying with the button.

chris is hot all over. he can’t do anything but keep his eyes on her hands, following their every move. she pops the button with ease, “do you want me to do all the work or..?”

chris’ voice is shaky as he blows out a breath. “i mean kind of, yeah.”

“i think you’ve got it under control,” she says, voice like honey. “can you finish for me?”

it should be embarrassing how fast chris steps out of his shoes and shows his pants down to his ankles. he’s hoping his dick isn’t standing straight up because he’d probably try to drown himself.

when he’s down to his boxers, y/n trails a nail up his chest and puts her lips to his ear. “good boy.” he shudders, then questions himself cause what the fuck? but then he mentally shrugs because he knows that anything that fell out of her mouth would turn him on. “i really hope you can swim.”

the words register a second too late, because chris is suddenly submerged in water before he can even think to say anything. he hears y/n’s cackle on the way down, and can feel the break of water as she jumps in after him.

he pushes to the surface with a glare, splashing her as soon as she emerges. “you’re evil,” he says, huffing. “you distracted me.”

she splashes him back with a wide, genuine smile. “you’re a guy. distracting a child would be harder.”

chris rolls his eyes, taking the opportunity to lunge at her through the water. she squeals, manically laughing as he chases her around. they spend the next however long slashing each other and trying to dunk each other under water without getting too close to be grabbed.

y/n doesn’t know the last time she felt this good around a guy. the last time she was so allowing to have someone in her space. it makes her stomach turn in a delicious, tantalizing whirl of want.

chris catches her off guard finally, wrapping his arm around her waist as she tries to get away. he pulls her to him and she turns, taking it upon herself to get as close as possible. they’re treading water, looking at each other in the eye.

it feels like they’re having a conversation without saying the words, and y/n is terrified chris can hear her heart beating in the silence. he reaches up, tucking a wet strand behind her ear. the moment is oddly tender. “you’re beautiful.”

he says it so concretely that it makes her stomach (among other places) clench. like there was no room for debate. it’s probably the shyest she’s been all night when she looks down at the distorted sight of their legs underwater.

like a mind reader, chris nudges her burning cheek, making her look up. he’s close as he can be but still giving her space. he searches her eyes for a moment, before he starts to say something. “i-“

y/n is looking at him, waiting for him to finish but ultimately he doesn’t. “fuck it.” is the only thing he says before slotting his lips perfectly over hers.

it’s instantaneous, the way her body suctions itself to his. his right hand is gripping the base of her throat hotly, his other hand in her hip. her hands are in his hair and she’s moved to wrap her legs around his waist.

they’re pulling at each other like they’ve been apart for years. it’s desperate and needy, the way chris trails his lips down her neck, nipping and sucking on any part of skin he can see. the way she tugs roughly at his hair to pull him back up to her lips, like she can’t stand to be away from them for a second.

it’s the hottest thing either of them have literally ever experienced and she strongly believes that she’s about to fuck this man right here, right now.

only, they can’t, because there’s a sudden slam of a door and a jingle of keys. “hey! you can’t be in here!”

they pull apart instantly, and y/n’s eyes widen. “oh shit, we gotta go.”

“what the fuck—“ chris looks like a deer caught in headlights, but y/n has been through this way too many times to let them be caught.

she’s pulling chris’ arm with an iron grip to the side of the wall their clothes are at. “let’s fucking go, chris.”

it takes all of two seconds for him to move with her instead of against her. they pull themselves up the wall as the security guard moves from the open door with haste. y/n can’t help but laugh as chris fumbles around with his shit, almost slipping and falling to the ground.

“is that you, y/n?” the guard says, and she can feel chris’ confusion. she doesn’t stop though, continuing her escape with chris in row. “damn kids.”

“you’re fucking insane,” chris says through his own laugh because well, he can’t fucking believe this night. can’t believe this girl.

“little bit!” she calls over her shoulder as the guard chases them around the border of the pool. they run to the door in the other direction, bursting through to the arctic air.

“oh my fucking god my balls are shriveling up i can feel it.” chris says as they run barefoot, soaking wet and freezing cold.

they make it across the parking lot, all the way to chris’s car by the time the guard is at the back door, throwing their clothes and themselves in haphazardly.

chris shakes as he blasts the heat and slams on the gas. he’s out of the space in record speed, driving on to the main road a little fast until they’re a safe ways away. he looks over at her, and she’s already looking him. they burst out in the most insane, bizarre bout of laughter.

they look ridiculous. wet hair and in their underwear, shaking like falling leaves. it’s comical and unbelievable and they would never want to be anywhere else.

“god i was kidding when i called you a criminal but you really fucking are,” he shakes his head. “he knew your name and everything.”

“hey!” she says, holding her hands up. “there’s not much to do around here. sneaking into here was like a weekly routine when i was in high school.”

“my little jailbird. what the hell am i gonna do with you?” there’s a glint to his eyes and she shivers again, not from the cold.

she ignores the feeling and points up ahead to a small alley. “you’re gonna pull in there so we can put our fucking clothes on. i’m freezing.”

“completely your fault, by the way.”

“blah, blah, blah.” she looks at him while he focuses on the road. the smile that spreads on her lips makes her skin heat. “pull over.”

and he does.

***

it’s a little while later and chris and y/n sit in his backseat, joint being passed between them, now fully clothed.

y/n lays with her back pressed up against the back left door, legs outstretched and wide with chris laying between them. the weight of his ribs on her hips is heavenly, and all she’s been thinking about for the last ten minutes is how it’s not close enough.

her hand is resting at the top of his head, lazily twisting a strand of hair around her finger. chris hums every so often, body slouching down more into her body heat.

“hey,” he says. “tell me something true.”

she takes a long hit, holding the smoke in before exhaling. “i’m high as bones right now.”

they share a giggle, before chris swipes the joint from her fingers. “i said true, not obvious.”

she shrugs, watching the smoke around them swirl. “it’s both, actually.”

he shakes his head, looking up at her from his place on top of her. “seriously.”

she thinks for a minute. there’s one thing she can think of, but for some reason it feels embarrassing. the way chris is looking at her though, completely enthralled with low eyes makes her not care. “that was my graffiti at the pool.”

chris flounders for a second, mouth dropping open in slow motion. he moves slowly, but it feels abrupt. he spins his body so his back is now facing the other door. she misses his body weight already.

“no fucking way?” his eyes are as wide as they could possibly be, considering how intoxicated they both are.

y/n just shrugs, pulling the last hit and leaning forward to place the filter in an old pepsi can in the front seat. “not a big deal.”

chris scoffs incredulously. “not a big deal? not a big deal?” he shakes his head, his mop of hair bouncing. “you lied to me.”

“about what, exactly?”

“i asked you what your thing was. you told me you didn’t have one.” he gives her a pointed look. “that’s a pretty big thing to have.”

“i haven’t done any art in years,” she argues. “so not really my “thing” anymore.”

he won’t let it go and she has no idea why. a couple random pieces she did out of teenage rebellion were so far back in her brain that it wasn’t even a factor. it’s been years since she even drew anything.

“well get back to it,” he says. “cause that’s not the type of thing you just stop doing. you’re fucking incredible, y/n.”

the authenticity in the words makes her shift uncomfortably. she doesn’t know how to take it and she damn sure doesn’t know what to make of him staring at her like she was pablo picasso reincarnated. it was kind of freaking her out.

“yeah, yeah.” she says, because it’s all she can.

“i’m serious. you’re so talented.” he moves his face directly in front of hers. his eyes trace the expanse of her face so delicately, it makes her want to been seen by him always. “so fucking perfect.” he whispers.

the words fill her with a softness she doesn’t think she’s ever felt. he really means it. she can tell by how honest his eyes are and how tightly he’s gripping on to the spot right above her knee. she doesn’t know how to thank him, so she connects their lips as a sign. he takes it immediately. they stay like that for a couple moments, learning the ins and outs of each others mouths, languidly kissing.

then, she’s back to being on top of him, but with a fire igniting in the pit of her stomach. she’s grinding her hips down into him, chasing those pretty noises he makes at the back of his throat. she’s breathing heavily, mewls falling from her lips as he sucks a particularly deep bruise into her neck.

“your pace,” he says through a groan. although it almost physically pains him, he slows her hips. she whines, chasing the friction like a woman on a mission. “whatever you want.”

“what do you want?” like a brat, she removes his hands, rolling her hips sinfully slow. chris almost chokes on his own spit.

“just want you.”

it makes her dizzy, the desperation in his voice. she needs him now. “well you have me,” for the second time tonight, she pops open the button of his pants. she places a searing kiss on his lips, making him chase her own when she parts. “now make it count.”

and he does. so much so that y/n has to remind herself several times during it that this man, this moment— is just for tonight. no matter how much she wants differently to be true.

***

“yeah,” y/n says, disoriented and out of breath. “yeah we’re coming.”

chris snorts from his place in the drivers seat. he puts on his shirt, taking a second to run his hands through his hair, trying to fix it.

“already did. several times.”

y/n punches him in the arm, trying to listen to her best friend rattle the location they ended up at. she hums in reply, not really listening as she watches chris watch her, his hand wandering to the flesh of her thighs.

when he gets a little too close to her underwear she clamps her legs shut, sending him a look. he only smirks in reply.

she pulls the phone away slightly. “you’re insatiable.”

he shrugs. “when it comes to you? yeah.”

y/n hears her best friend gasp. “oh my god. you just got finished fucking!”

she can feel the heat rise to her face. “i’m hanging up now.”

“oh my god, bitch!” y/n heard shuffling, no doubt grabbing the attention of her other friend. “y/n fucked chris.”

she can hear a protesting bleh! that sounds like nick over the phone, before squeals fill her ears. she already knows her friends are very much drunk. “goodbye.”

when she hangs up, she turns and slaps chris on the shoulder. he flinches, but he’s laughing nonetheless. “you idiot.”

“what? like you weren’t gonna tell them?”

“yeah, tomorrow.” she emphasizes. “not tonight when they’re surrounded by your drunk brothers in the middle of a bar!”

“trust me,” he says, toothy grin shining. “nick and matt have heard worse.”

y/n rolls her eyes, “slut.”

chris doesn’t do anything but send her a dirty smirk, turning up the music and backing out of the parking lot they were in, weaving through the streets like he’s lived here all his life.

y/n can feel a dreadful weight settle in her gut, thinking that the night was approaching its end. through the silence she studies chris, wondering what he’s thinking. if he felt the connection between them as much she did. if he was just as unwilling to let it go. when they pull up outside the bar, she can see his brothers and her friends standing and laughing loudly outside, waiting for them. she wants to speak, but she doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. luckily for her, chris has never been one to stay silent for long.

“so.” he says, looking at her with what she thinks is nervousness. “am i gonna have to beg for your number? cause i have no shame. and i will.”

y/n lets out the breath she’d been holding. he felt it too. of course he did.

she outstretches her hand to which he places his phone into. she types in her contact, but before she presses save, she motions him close to her. “come here.”

she snaps the picture of them, cheeks pressed together sweetly and makes it her picture, sending it to herself as well. when she’s finished, chris grips her face in his hand and turns her to him, placing one last kiss to her lips.

it’s slow and intimate, no trace of tongue or the desperate need from before. it feels like a promise or a nudge towards the future. like this couldn’t possibly be the last one.

“text me. or call me. whatever. i’ll answer for you anytime.” he whispers into her mouth. she snaps a mental picture of the moment.

“i will.” she means it.

she gets out the car then, alerting her eccentric friends of her arrival. she gives nick and matt a brief hug as they pass her on the way to chris’ car, thanking them for keeping her friends safe.

she watches them all the way to the car, waving at chris once more as they pull away. she kind of feels like a piece of herself went with him.

“you have to tell us everything.” her best friend says, but y/n is somewhere far away.

“yeah, i will. tomorrow. for now, let’s get you drunk fucks to bed.”

he’s the only thing she can think about the whole way home.

***

eight months later

there’s a distinct difference in atmosphere between this night and then last is all y/n’s thinking as she pushes through the crowd of screaming girls to the back of the venue.

before, it was a lowkey bar with more drunk customers than excited fans. now, there’s people with band tees and signs, nearly passing out as she watches the band throw guitar picks and drumsticks into the crowd. her leather pants are sticking to her tightly, sweat collecting at the small of her back.

she’d gotten matt’s number from her best friend, texted him and told him that she’d be here tonight. chris had no idea, and while she was excited beyond belief to see him, there was a part of her that was riddled with insecurity that he wouldn’t share the same feelings.

they’d texted consistently for a couple months after that night. the odd phone call every few weeks to catch up. it was never awkward, despite how much time had passed. she missed him all the time when he wasn’t around, so every time they talked it felt so comforting she yearned to be in his presence again.

but then they got busy, and consistent texts turned into a random conversation here and there and a call once in a blue moon. the eventually, it turned to nothing at all. she still thought about him all the time, but she her fear held her back from ever reaching out. she assumed he felt the same. well that, and the fact that the guys’ band had found massive success seemingly overnight. she was happy for him, she just hoped there was still room in his memory and his life for her.

y/n paces around the band’s small dressing room while she waits. the anxiety is eating her alive, building a lump in her throat she’s scared won’t ever go away. she’s half a second away from running out of there and never looking back when the door opens.

and in walks chris, shirt off and slung over his shoulder. his hair is drenched with sweat, dark, baggy jeans low on his waist. the emotion that floods her makes her hands shake, so she wrings her hands together to make it stop. doesn’t work one bit.

chris hasn’t seen her yet, but she sees nick and matt in the entry way at the door, smiling and flashing her a thumbs up before they shut the door loudly. chris looks back the door in confusion.

“where the hell—“

“i’ve been stuck in this room for twenty minutes and you still haven’t noticed i’m here. remind me to never try to surprise you ever again.”

chris’ entire body stills. he looks up slowly, hair on his arms standing at full height. when he sees her, his eyes widen three times their normal size. his mouth opens and closes helplessly, so much so y/n can only laugh at him.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

chris doesn’t move from his spot. “i feel like i’m looking at one.”

the eye contact they make is sweltering. all of sudden, the thoughts that had been plaguing her for so long fall away. chris walks to her slowly, like he’s afraid she’s gonna disappear if he moves too fast.

“are you really here right now?” he says, voice full of awe. “i feel like i’m going insane right now.”

she chuckles under her breath. “yes, chris. i’m really here right now.”

the sun opens up in that very room in that moment as soon as chris realizes what’s happening, cause he smiles so wide it looks like it might hurt. he closes the space between and hugs her, lifting her body off the ground.

“chris—“

“what the fuck are you doing here?” he questions, pulling back with his hands on her waist. “not that i’m not glad, i’m just fucking flabbergasted by it.”

y/n’s smile matches his. wide and unrelenting. “well,” she says, pulling a folded up flier out of her bag. she hands it to him, motioning for him to open it. “for this.”

chris’ eyes light up as he scans the paper. he looks at her with so much pride it almost knocks her off her feet. “you have an art show.”

“i do.” she nudges his shoulder. “someone told me once that it was my thing.”

chris wants to kiss her. so badly. he hadn’t seen her in months, hadn’t even spoken to her, but he feels that same thrum of electricity in his veins that he did that night. she looks even more beautiful than before. he can’t take it.

“so that’s why you’re in los angeles?” y/n knows the question is bait. she knows and she wants to keep up the calm and collected ruse really bad, except she thinks she might explode if she doesn’t feel her lips in his very soon.

“yeah,” chris’ shoulders shrug the tiniest bit. “that and this band i like was playing tonight. don’t tell anyone, but i kinda have a thing for the drummer.”

they’re moving closer to each other without even realizing it. chris’ hands have righted their grip on her and she’s about an inch from his face.

he smirks. “mm, good choice. i’ve heard he’s the hottest one.”

“biggest ego too.”

they don’t even have to question it. don’t even have to say the words. chris pulls her to him and closes the gap, his lips finding hers after so long. way too long.

y/n can feel how much he missed her in the way he’s holding her so tightly. she hopes she’s pouring the same feelings into this. kissing chris was like coming home after a hard day to your favorite spot on the couch. she never realized just how much she needed it, never knew how much she missed it until she had it again.

“i missed you.” he says, barely pulling away to say it.

“me too.” she says, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

with one final peck to her lips, chris hesitantly pulls himself away from her. “let me pack my shit and then we can get out of here. it’s my turn to show you around.”

y/n watches him move through the room in haste, dropping shit and bumping into chairs out of pure excitement. her heart swells twice in size, eyes sparkling at the thought of the night to come. she knows this time is different. there was no way either of them was going to let go for a second time.

chris sends her a blinding smile while he packs his backpack and she knows, just knows this man is going to be someone special to her. with the way her heart pounds just by looking at him, he already is.

thank god for boys in bands.

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toddler - Matt Sturniolo

summary: having 2 toddlers isn't the easiest, espically when you're currently pissed at your husband matt after an argument. one night you get pushed to the point of a breakdown when the kids won't behave and matt's there to help you.

contains: dad!matt, fluff, slightly suggestive , crying, slight mental breakdown, comforting, angst?

a/n: this was loosely based off of how daddy matt was in today's vid.

----———--------------..••°°°°••..------------————

7:38pm

matt and i had an argument last night leaving me in tears, he’s been in his bedroom this whole day leaving me to deal with our two twins which are both 3 and a half.

i attempt to cook up something that somewhat resembles a dinner for our girls but the only thing occupying my mind is the events of what happened last night.

yesterday

“why is this house always so fucking messy!” matt’s voice booms throughout the living room as he abruptly stands up

“shit, i don’t know maybe because you got me pregnant at 18 and i’m the only one who does anything for the kids our this house!” i raise my voice back at him

matt lets out a shocked laugh “sorry that some people have fucking jobs and don’t lay on their ass with the kids all day and call it tiring?”

“lay on my ass? i clean, i cook, i take the girls to daycare and i bring them home, i do everything”

“if everything includes not having a fucking job and using up my money that i earn then sure, you do a whole lot” matt says with a slight attitude.

“all you fucking do is act like you have it hard when you don’t! get a fucking grip” he yells

the whole room goes silent, i erupt into tears and walk out of the room to our spare bedroom

“and always fucking crying.” i hear him scoff, only making my state worse.

—

my thoughts are cut off by a wail coming from behind me, my head spins back to see millie with a fistful of claire’s hair, yanking.

i instantly drop the wooden spoon into the pot before speed walking towards the twins

“stop it!” i yell, grabbing millie from under her arms and staring into her eyes angrily “go find daddy, not acceptable millie.” i raise my voice, placing her down.

she folds her arms with a huff, stomping her little legs down the corridor to matt and i’s shared room.

“you’re okay claire” i coo, fixing her pigtail which sits on the very top of her head

i pick her up and place her down on the couch with one of her stuffed animals before making my way back towards the kitchen.

i turn down the heat on the stovetop slightly with an exhausted sigh

suddenly i hear small giggles coming from behind me followed by the backs of my knees being pushed

“fuck!” i yell, stumbling over and grabbing the handle to the pot, spilling boiling spaghetti onto the floor, also splashing up onto my sweater.

millie goes silent before sprinting in the other direction with claire

as of things couldn’t get any worse right now i hear matt’s voice start something

“what are you actually fucking doin-“ he cuts himself off when he sees the state i’m in

i burst into sobs, matt looks down at me with concern painted across his face

“hey- shh sh you’re okay, you’re okay.” he says frantically, walking over to me and kneeling on the floor

“matt i can’t do this the kids aren’t behaving and i can’t fucking make them something they’ll like-“ i start, saying in between shaking breaths

he carefully picks me up from under my arms before switching his grip to the back of my thighs, i bury my face into his shoulders and feel matt take in panicked breaths

he speed walks us down into our bedroom at the end of the corridor, “are you hurt sweetheart?” he says, placing me down on the bed and peeling my sweatshirt off of me

“did the hot water soak through? shit.” matt says trying to stay calm.

“no-“ i sniff, rubbing my eyes. matt yanks his sweatshirt off his body and lays it across me like a blanket.

“stay right here okay? i’m gonna sort the kids out then put them to bed, then i’ll come back to talk, try get some sleep for me gorgeous.”

matt presses a kiss to my nose before rushing out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.

i have a clear view of kitchen from where i’m laying so i see matt walk into the kitchen before kneeling down

“c’mere.” he demands, sticking out his arms. millie and claire toddle over to him with a guilty expression across their face.

“tell me what’s happened.” matt says sternly, maintaining eye contact with both of them.

millie bursts into tears almost immediately as she looks at matt

matt runs his hand up and down her arm as he waits for a response

“we- we pushed mommy and she fell and spilt hot water on her and hurt her” she sniffs

“a-and.. and you’re mad at me” she continues.

“do i look mad sweetheart?” matt says softly, claire shrugs along with millie

“i’m really really sad that you weren’t behaving for mommy, and i know you know better than that right?” matt speaks

millie nods, wiping her nose with the backs of her hand

“and now i’m gonna ask you to go clean up the spill with claire and then we’re gonna go say sorry to mom okay?” he says gently, pressing two kisses to the girls forehead

they nod in unison before going into the kitchen, matt hands them the paper towels and they instantly drop down to there knees and attempt to clean the mess.

matt watches while biting his nails “why do you think you made mommy cry though?” he says, claire looks up at him with a heaped pile of paper towels in her hands

“because we were naughty.” claire sighs, matt nods while gathering the piles of drenched paper towels and throwing them away.

“what i’m ‘gonna ask you to do is sit down at the kitchen table and think about how you will say sorry to mommy tomorrow while i make you dinner okay girls?”

claire and millie run over to the dining table, more than hungry and tired now.

matt sorts through the pantry before settling on mac and cheese which i wasn’t even sure we had.

after a good 10 minutes matt brings over the two small bowls to the twins, who have been silent ever since they sat down.

“you have to eat all of this okay?” matt says while placing the bowls down. claire and millie nod

—-

8:56pm

matt finishes up the last dishes in the sink before walking over to the girls “you alright?” he asks softy before picking both of them up, one in each arm.

matt walks down the corridor, flashing me a quick smile as both the girls bury their head in his shoulders.

“they’re very tired” he mouths to me with a small laugh while walking into their shared bedroom.

i hear the door shut followed by matt walking into our bedroom. “you feeing better gorgeous?” he asks calmly as he flops down in bed beside me.

“thank you for doing that.” i sigh, rubbing my eyes with my palms.

“don’t thank me? i’m their dad and i realise that after yesterday’s.. argument that you’re right and i do need to start caring more.” matt looks over at me.

“you don’t have to just say that” i whisper

“i’m not just saying that, i actually mean it.” matt responds with an unreadable expression

“the shit you said last night..” i start, my voice wobbling “i’m gonna find it hard to forget, because i know that in that moment you meant it.”

matt goes silent,

“and i know that you’re busy but i try, so hard to make you and the girls happy, meaning that i don’t have free time to work because everything i do is for you?” i keep going, several tears now rolling down my cheeks

“so you saying that you should help our more around the house and pretending like everything’s perfect between us isn’t gonna fix shit.”

i physically can’t keep speaking unless i want to start sobbing so i stop, taking in a shaky breath.

matt doesn’t say anything back, instead sitting up and grabbing me and pulling me into a deathly tight hug.

the few tears that fell dampen the shoulder of his shirt as he rubs my back.

“i don’t even know how to apologise.” matt says, his voice trembling.

“please- don’t cry.” he whispers, “i’m just really tired” i squeeze out

“i know i’ve been a shit.. person for the past year or so and trust me, you and the girls are on my mind every single minute of every day and- and there’s no excuse for what i said yesterday except for the fact i wasn’t thinking straight.”

matt rambles

“i shouldn’t have yelled, or said anything. i know, i know you have it way harder than me, and i’m not just saying that it’s true.”

“you don’t have to forgive me at all today, tomorrow or in general for this but i love you and i’m so sorry.”

matt finishes by pulling away to look at my face, which he cups in both his hands.

“thank you.” is the only thing i reply with, somewhat shocked by that 2 minute long tangent.

matt lays back down on the matress, pulling me towards him. i lay my head down on his chest with a deep breath in, instantly falling asleep

————

9:56am the next day

the morning sun burns into the side of my face as i roll over in bed,

my eyebrows knit together when i realise matt’s not next to me like normal.

i sit up in bed, wiping my eyes as i attempt to run my fingers through my tangled hair.

i stumble out of bed towards the door of our bedroom, gripping the handle lazily and swinging it open.

the whole house is perfectly clean “what the fuck..” i mumble to myself as i walk into the living room where my eyes lay on my favourite sight

my 3 favourite people, matt claire and millie are sat on the sofa, matt’s in the middle and the girls are cuddled up to his side while matt holds open a picture book which he stops reading when i walk in.

“good morning pretty” matt smiles stupidly, i grow a small smile on my face.

“i think that someone has something to say to mom?” matt says, looking down at each of the girls.

they run up to me and wrap their arms around each of my legs “were really sorry” claire says, i bend down to their height and give them a smile

millie follows up with a “and i’m sorry for hurting you a- and i love you a lot!” she says with a cute smile.

“it’s okay sweetheart, i love you.” i grin, wrapping my arms around them before standing back up.

“and i’m gonna make it up to you tonight” matt says quietly while walking over to me

“matthew bernard! you horny mother fucker” i whisper.

————

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FLO MILI IS PREGNANT! I JUST FELL TI MY ONEES BRO! I SWEAR IF SZA GETS PRGNANT IMMA CRASH OUT

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so proud of my favorite boys

you’re not sorry - m.s.

part one of avery’s playlist series

summary: could’ve loved you all my life if you hadn’t left me in the cold

warnings: angst, sensitive topics, no happy ending.

{read with caution}

wc: 3k+

Another night.

Another night waiting up for your boyfriend who could never be bothered to let you know when he’d be home; if he’d even be coming home that night.

It was like this for months at this point. Day after day of you waiting up just for him to stumble inside smelling like alcohol and weed, clothes disheveled as he plows through your front door. You didn’t even know what had changed, but it had.

Things were so good, beyond good, to the point where you guys were considering marriage, considering a family. Maybe it was all too much for him, but that wasn’t your burden to bear.

Your perfect, loving boyfriend had turned into someone you barely recognized, having to look so hard to find pieces of the man you fell for in the man you no longer knew.

You were about to give up and head to bed when you heard keys jingling at the front door, the man outside clearly struggling to unlock it. You stayed planted on the couch, waiting for him to finally come crashing in and make up some excuse about what he was doing out so late. You never believed him anymore.

When the door swung open and your boyfriend stumbled through it, his eyes met yours almost instantly, a small, forced smile appearing on his face. “Hey, baby,” he calls out, shutting the door behind him and kicking his shoes off before he made his way towards you, tripping over his own feet once or twice until he sat down next to you.

You let out an aggravated sigh, standing up and walking away from the couch, not wanting to sit next to him and smell the alcohol leeching off of his breath. It was beyond disgusting and if the smell didn’t make you sick, the thought of everything would. The thought of your life crumbling in a matter of months was enough to make you cry so hard you threw up on multiple occasions, the depression caused by this man that swore he loved you being the culprit of so many breakdowns you couldn’t even count anymore.

“You’re drunk, Matt,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

His eyes trail up to you, shaking his head quickly. “I’m not drunk, just tipsy, I swear. I stopped drinking a few hours ago.”

Your heart dropped. A few hours ago?

“And where have you been in those last few hours, hm?” You question, not really knowing if you wanted to know the answer.

Matt groans, throwing his head back on the couch. “Here we fucking go. All you do is nag on me fucking constantly, why do you think I’m gone all the time? I’ll tell you. Because you can’t fucking shut the fuck up and let me live for two minutes. You’re always up my ass asking me what I’m doing or who I’m with.”

Your heart starts to race in your chest, knowing you’re about to get in another fight with the man you used to never argue with. You used to have perfect communication, always able to work through your issues and things that bothered you, but now it was like a flip switched and he wanted to argue about everything, sober or not.

“I never see you anymore, Matt! You’re never home to just spend time with me! All I fucking want is to lay in bed and watch a movie with my boyfriend who cuddles with me and tells me he loves me! You act like I don’t exist and it hurts and I’m trying to stay but sometimes I wonder why I do.” Your voice is shaky as you speak, the adrenaline and emotions quickly getting to you. You never were good at fighting without crying.

“Why?” Matt questions quietly, dropping his gaze to his lap.

You’re confused. “Why what?” You ask him dryly, arms still crossed in an attempt to protect yourself, almost like you were protecting your heart.

He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks. “Why try to stay? If I’m so awful?”

Your breath catches in your throat. Was this it? Was this the fight you’ve been fearing for the last few weeks? Has everything you both have worked towards finally hit a wall?

“Because… because I keep hoping this is just a phase and you’ll snap out of it and love me again,” you choke out, tears filling your eyes. “I don’t understand what I did to make you not love me anymore and every day that I sit here by myself and think about it, I can’t come up with an answer and you won’t tell me. I would do fucking anything for you and you can’t even tell me you love me anymore.”

Matt let out a big sigh, picking at a rip in his jeans absentmindedly. “I do love you, I just… I need some time to myself.”

You scoff, crying now and not trying to stop it. “You don’t think I would’ve given you time? Space? Matt, all you had to say was that you were getting overwhelmed and needed time think about what you wanted, I would’ve understood that. Do you understand the fucking weight behind that? You have a woman who would let you take a step back from a relationship just because she knows how much you value your own space and time and your own autonomy. You will never fucking find a woman that will treat you the way I treat you. You will never find someone who loves you unconditionally through everything, including this. I swear to god, Matt, you better get your act together before you come home to fucking nothing.”

“Maybe that’s what I want!” Matt yells suddenly, getting up from the couch to walk over to you. You weren’t afraid, you knew he’d never hit you, but he’s also never yelled in your face like this either. “Maybe every fucking night I come home hoping you’ve packed up all of your shit and left. Hell, you could pack my shit and I’d be happy, I don’t fucking care, I just want to come home and know that you’ve finally given up on me. Don’t you get it? I’m trying to make it easy for you. I’m trying to be the worst boyfriend I could possibly be and you still won’t leave!”

The moment he’s done speaking you swear you could hear a pin drop. You felt like your world had completely stopped spinning on its axis.

You’re lightheaded as you stare at Matt, tears flowing freely down your face. He really was completely unrecognizable.

“What did I do?” You cried, still wanting nothing more than to feel your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he wouldn’t, and it wasn’t. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Matt listened to your cries with a straight face, barely even seeming like he cared. “I just… don’t want to be with you anymore. Our relationship has run its course.”

You drop your head and let out a broken sob, reaching a hand up to try to wipe away your tears, but it was to no avail, they would just keep coming. “I love you with everything I have, I… I need you, Matt, how could you do this?”

Matt is silent, feeling like he’s already said all he needed to say. If he cared at all, he really didn’t show it.

You pick your head back up and look at Matt, your own eyes red and puffy, when you see it. You think it’s a shadow at first, but the more you stare, the more you realize your eyes aren’t deceiving you. You take a step forward and reach towards Matt, pulling the hood off his head and tugging the collar down, another choked cry falling from your lips.

“Is that a fucking hickey?” You accuse, looking up to meet his eyes. “You’re fucking cheating on me, too?!”

Matt grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him, throwing your arm back towards yourself before pulling his hood back up. “Back the fuck up, dude, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You laugh in his face, shaking your head in disbelief. “You are so fucking pathetic, Matt,” you spit at him. “You are so much of a pussy that you couldn’t even be a man and break up with me, you needed me to do it for you. Do you feel good about yourself? Knowing you cheated on someone who would literally give you the world? God, I can’t believe I almost gave you a fucking kid, you’re a joke of a partner. I feel bad for anyone that has to deal with you for the rest of their life.”

Matt clenches his jaw tightly at your words, hating how you knew exactly how to strike a nerve with him. “You think I feel good about this? I fucking don’t but I didn’t know what else to do, you would’ve never listened if I tried to leave you, you would’ve talked me into staying and I would’ve been miserable for the rest of my life!”

“You are the one that said you wanted a family! The one that said you wanted to marry me and buy our own farm and live in the middle of fucking nowhere! You said all of those things, not me!” You wanted to hit him so bad. To shake him, to kick him, to do anything to make him see how none of this made sense to you. How could he say all of those things and turn on you so quickly?

You two were laid in bed under the blankets, neither of you ready to get out of bed for the day just yet. The sun shone through the blinds, illuminating Matt’s face perfectly, his blue eyes reflecting the light in a way that had you damn near in a trance, unable to pull your own eyes away from him. “I hope our babies have your eyes,” you tell him quietly, both of you laying on your sides to face each other.

He smiled shyly at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “Stop admiring me, it makes me awkward.” He mumbled, making you laugh.

“I’m your girlfriend, I’m supposed to admire you. Plus, it helps that you’re really hot and easy to admire.” You reach up and brush your hands through his hair that definitely needs a trim, pulling it back from his face to get a better view. “I’m serious, though. Your eyes are so pretty compared to mine.”

Matt opens his eyes and shoots you an annoyed look. “Stop it, our kids would be lucky to have any of your features, you’re fucking stunning.”

You giggle and roll over onto your back, staring at the ceiling for a few moments before speaking. “Do you ever think about that? Like what our kids will look like? I think about it all the time. Especially like… a little girl, running around with your bright blue eyes and your big smile. I just know if we had a little girl she’d be so beautiful, Matt.” You turn your head towards your boyfriend to see him already smiling at you.

“I think about it all the time,” he starts, reaching a hand out to rest on your stomach that had been exposed by your shirt riding up, softly trailing his thumb back and forth. “I think about how protective I’d be if we had a daughter, or daughters. I think about how much of an honor it would be to raise a son with you. I think about what would happen if you got pregnant with twins or, god forbid, triplets.” You laugh at this, knowing it would be an absolute shit show. “I think about our kids, sure, but a lot of times I think to myself, ‘wow, if I love her so much now, I can’t imagine how much I’ll love her when she’s the mother of my children.’ That’s what I think.”

Your eyes become glossy and your vision goes slightly blurry as you stare at Matt, seeing the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke to you. “I love you,” you tell him and his face lights up, leaning in to place a small kiss on your lips.

“I love you more.”

“I did,” Matt shrugs his shoulders like it was no big deal. “But feelings change. People change.”

You shake your head angrily, not believing him. “No, not like that. Feelings don’t change like that, Matt. You met somebody else, didn’t you? All this time you’ve been seeing someone else.”

Matt groans, rubbing his eyes harshly. “So what?! It doesn’t matter, we’re over now, right? I’ll sleep on the couch and pack my shit tomorrow, can we just go to bed?”

You sniffle, the truth finally setting in that he’s completely given up and there was no getting him back. The Matt you once loved was gone forever and there was nothing you could do about it.

So you decided to land the final blow and make him realize how stupid he really was.

You grab his right hand with your left, facing it palm up as you reach your free hand into your pocket, grabbing the strip of paper you had kept in there, waiting for the perfect moment to drop this bomb on him. You slap the paper into his open hand before taking a step away, crossing your arms again.

“What is this?” Matt asks, staring down at the photos in front of him, panic setting in his chest. “Babe… babe, what is this?” He looks up at you, eyes wide. You swear you could almost hear his heart pounding.

“It’s an ultrasound, jackass.” You snap at him, completely over his shit.

Matt’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, eyes snapping between you and the photos. “You’re… pregnant?” He chokes out. Despite all the alcohol he’s consumed tonight, he feels the most sober he has in weeks, the reality of the situation crashing into him like a truck.

You laugh at his reaction, hating how he suddenly cared about you again. “Was,” you tell him bluntly, shrugging your shoulders like nothing you said mattered. “Turns out never getting any sleep and stressing out over your loser, lowlife boyfriend isn’t good for a baby.”

Matt lets out a huff of air like his lungs had collapsed in on him, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. “You… you were pregnant, and now you’re not?” He asks quietly, his own voice now shaking.

“Yes, Matthew, I was and now I’m not. That’s how that fucking works.” You walk over and snatch the pictures from him, ignoring his pleas of denial. “While you were out doing whatever the fuck or whoever the fuck you wanted, I was here throwing up every day by my fucking self, barely even able to eat oatmeal without getting sick. I was here reading up on how to get through pregnancy or how to be a good mother. I was here shopping for fucking baby clothes and decorations. And I was the one here miscarrying in our bed, by myself!” You have no idea when you started crying again, but you were, and there was no stopping it this time. “I was the one going to doctors appointments and listening to our baby’s teeny tiny heart beating. I was here looking at pictures of her tiny feet and tiny toes, wondering if she’d look like you or like me. I was here picking up the pieces when I found out her teeny tiny heart had stopped.”

Matt’s eyes had filled with tears now, too, his bright blue eyes only made brighter by the reflection of the lamp lit in the corner of the room. “Her?” He croaked, voice failing him. “It was a girl?”

You let out a sob, nodding your head weakly. “I found out the day I found out she was gone,” you cry, voice entering a higher pitch from your throat tightening. “I wanted her so bad, Matt, and I was just waiting for you to come around so I could tell you, and… you just never did and now we’re over. I went from a girl who wanted nothing more than a family with the man she loves to being a girl who’s oddly grateful she lost a baby so she doesn’t have to deal with looking at her daughter that reminds her of the man that broke her heart.”

Matt reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, releasing a shaky breath out. “I’m sorry,” he whimpers, looking you dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry, if I had known-.”

“If you had known then what? You wouldn’t have treated me like shit? You wouldn’t have cheated? That should’ve been the bare fucking minimum, Matt, and now you’ve let down who was supposed to be the two most important girls in your life.” You point your finger at him as you speak, wanting to drive your point home and let him know how badly he had fucked up. “I would’ve done fucking anything for you, including growing your baby, and you threw that away, not me.”

“I was just scared, it was all happening so fast!” Matt wails, reaching out for you. “I got overwhelmed with the thought of settling down and I freaked out, I’m sorry.”

You push his hands away, ignoring his pleas. “You said it yourself, Matt. It’s over. Besides, I can’t bring her back. I’m always going to look at you and remember how you treated me when I had your baby inside me, and how you treated me when I dealt with the loss of our baby.”

Matt sobbed, placing his head in his hands as his shoulder shook. “I didn’t know!”

“You shouldn’t have to know!” You cried, hands flailing in front of you as you spoke, or more yelled. “You shouldn’t have to know I’m pregnant just to treat me like your fucking girlfriend! I would’ve done anything for you, including give up my body for nine months to give you a family, and you couldn’t even be loyal, and you have to live with that for the rest of your fucking life.”

Matt sunk to his knees in front of you, head resting on your stomach as he wraps his arms around your hips. You just stare down at him, your tears dripping into his hair. “I’m so sorry, please let me fix this,” he sobs into your sweater, hands gripping the back of it. “I fucked up so bad, I see that now.”

The sight of him made you want to crumble. You wanted to give in, to comfort him, to forget these last few months and go back to being the perfect happy couple you used to be. You didn’t know how you were supposed to live without him after all this time.

But you deserved better.

“Get up,” you tell him quietly and he turns his head up to look at you, cheeks soaked with his own tears. You reach down and cup his cheek, thumb swiping under his eyes to wipe new tears that fell. “Get up, Matt.”

He sniffles and obliges, standing in front of you once again, closer this time.

“You’re not sorry you hurt me,” you start, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re just sorry it backfired so badly.”

Matt grabs your hand that still rested on his face, holding it close and leaning into it. “Please,” he says, voice raspy. “Can we spend one more night together?”

You break eye contact to drop your eyes to the floor, shoulders shaking with the sob that ripped through your body.

“Yes,” you croak out, immediately melting into the arms that wrapped themselves around you like you’d disappear if he let go, your face tucking into his neck that smelled like cheap, floral perfume, the scent feeling like a dagger to your heart.

You ignored it, though. Anything for one more night with the love of your life.

-

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people treat bisan, motaz and plestia like they're influencers instead of, you know, people who have endured/are enduring war crimes beyond imagining and ethnic cleansing. what I mean is, they never asked to be spokesperson for their people's humanity, or planned to be so visible. they're just people, ordinary people who can never go home, who are surviving colonial violence. what they're doing and what they have done defies any term of admiration or respect I could apply. But I wish that people would stop thinking of these individual Palestinians trying to survive in war zones like celebrities or politicians with actual power because it's just another form of dehumanisation. Ask yourself, what will you do if something happens to Bisan? If she is killed or goes dark or inshallah she escapes? Everyday I see posts like, "if Bisan dies, I'll riot!" riot NOW. speak up, now! Palestinians and Lebanese and Syrian people who aren't going viral on social media are being murdered by the occupation in the 100s everyday. I am begging people to stop hingeing their faith in the free Palestine movement and the movement to end the Zionist occupation on individuals. I love Bisan and Motaz and Plestia with all my heart and pray for them every day, but I'm begging people not to reframe Palestinian liberation through individualism. Support BDS, donate to UNRWA or the Red Crescent Society, listen to Palestinians across Palestine and the diaspora. Your belief in the freedom of Indigenous peoples has to transcend the ones most visible and palatable to you.