CHRISPLEASURE

chris sturniolo’s hottest girl ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ gracie abrams & billie ellish enthusiast ⊹ ꣑ৎ

[chrispleasure]

hello !! welcome to my blog ꣑ৎ

charli . gracie abrams enthusiast. bisexual, degrassi lover!!. esha tewari stan. internally jeanette from the chipettes. music 🎧. aussie. relatable. romantic. passionate about writing. chris sturniolo’s best girl. close to you’ - gracie abrams is me.

masterlist, c.ai ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

requests are currently open for bot’s :) i will try my best to follow the request! - you can go on anon and request bot’s on my ask !!

[mattsangelbaby]

matt please it’s been TWO years i need another video so bad

[chrispleasure]

i dont think im going to post anymore !! im not leaving, i still love the triplets, im just really burnt out and i have no ideas. im still active everyday looking through blogs !!

[silverspringsstare-deactivated2]

being autistic in an overstimulating family💔💔💔

[chrispleasure]

so real 💔 autism/anxiety/depression (me), adhd/anger issues (brother), autisim (brother), depression/bpd/autisim (mum) and autisim/anger issues (dad)

[whiteferraristurns]

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ✶ sad themes..

𝓑ᝰ. hi lovelies!! this is a little sad.. your girl was in her feels. i love you guys so much enjoy!!

The apartment was quiet in a way it hadn’t been in months. All the past laughter and late night conversations were like ghosts haunting him. His hoodie hung off his frame like it didn’t belong to him anymore and maybe it didn’t. Everything felt like it belonged to a version of himself that had existed days ago. Maybe longer. He couldn’t tell time right now. these past 3 days were all a blur he couldn’t remember.

He sat on the edge of the bed. your shared bed. His fingers clenched into the sheets you hadn’t slept on in a few nights. His knees bounced. His throat burned. He hadn’t cried. Not yet. He hadn’t let himself. If he did, it would be real.

And he wasn’t ready for it to be real.

Your sweater still hung on the edge of the his chair. He hadn’t touched it. He couldn’t. he was afraid that it would break him.

He replayed your voice in his head multiple times. it wasn’t the person he had fallen in love with. The cold sentence wasn’t full of the softness or the love it used too. It wasn’t the same voice he had shared soft laughs with or the late-night whispers.

“Chris, I just… I don’t feel it anymore.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. That was three nights ago. You’d stood in this room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your voice trembling but not from sadness, but guilt. And that was the worst part. You meant well. You were gentle. Honest.

and it still shattered him in ways he hadn’t felt no matter how soft you did it.

Chris had always known that once he fell.. he fell hard. he loved too hard. Too fast. Too desperately. It was something he didn’t talk about—something he buried in sarcasm and “nah, I’m good”s, but the truth was, he wasn’t good. Not before you. Not even now.

Especially not now..

you two had dated for two years. 730 days that were full of thousands of conversations, hundreds of fights, Inside jokes only you two understood, late-night drives, and shared looks that shared emotions he’ll never forget.

he didn’t know where it all went wrong. he tried everything he possibly could to make sure you didn’t leave him. when he met you for the first time he thought you were gonna be his forever.

you were all confidence and calm energy. You walked into his life like you’d belonged in it. Like the universe had already made space for you in his chest and was just waiting for him to catch up.

But Chris had always kept people at arm’s length. Not because he didn’t care but because he cared too much. Getting attached was a sickness for him. He knew how he got when he truly fell. Clingy. Paranoid. Desperate to be reassured that he wouldn’t be left behind like all the others.

Still, you stayed. You had met him halfway, every time. You held his face when he got in his own head. You texted him just because. You listened when he rambled and didn’t get scared when he told you about the way his thoughts spiraled sometimes.

he was stupid enough to believe that when you said you weren’t going anywhere “no matter what happened” you actually meant it.

when you had left you hadn’t taken all of your things. Just your laptop, charger, a few clothes in a bag that used to sit next to his sneakers by the door. He thought maybe that meant something. That you weren’t sure. That you’d come back and it’ll all be okay.

But it made his stomach turn when you hadn’t called. Hadn’t texted. Hadn’t liked anything he posted. Hadn’t even checked on him. he knew that maybe this was the end.

He was halfway through rereading a message thread between the two of you. scrolling back months into your I-love-yous and inside jokes when the lock clicked. it was past midnight by now. He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

The door creaked open like the universe was testing him. Seeing how much more he could take. then you stepped inside. You looked exhausted. Not sad. Not angry. Just tired. Like you hadn’t slept. Like the breakup had carved something out of you too, and maybe it had. Maybe that should’ve made him feel better but it didn’t.

Chris didn’t move. he was afraid if he did you’d disappear. “I just came to get the rest of my stuff,” you said softly, like you were scared her voice would shatter the silence too harshly.

Chris said nothing. Just gave a nod so small it barely counted. When you moved across the room your eyes briefly flicked to him but you pulled it away just as quick as it came. The bag in your hand brushed the doorway as you stepped into the closet, pulling down a few shirts.

He could hear you trying not to sniffle. Maybe it was allergies. Maybe it was grief. Either way, he heard it, and it scratched at something deep in his chest.

when you stepped out of the closet you picked up the sweater on the back of the chair. “You should keep that,” he murmured suddenly, his voice rough and low. You paused. “Chris—” he shook his head. you softly picked the sweater up in your arms as he kept his eyes on his hands.

His voice came out hoarse again. “You could’ve just… told me.” You paused, her back to him as you stopped at the entrance of the closet again.

God, he didn’t understand. You had been good together.. maybe not perfect, but you were trying. He was trying.

Chris’s eyes stayed locked on the floor as he spoke. “When you stopped feeling it. You could’ve said something.”

You turned, slowly. Your face looked like you wanted to explain, but there were no words good enough for that kind of pain. “I didn’t know how,” you said.

“You said you weren’t going anywhere.” you breathed carefully. “I thought I meant it.” He let out a small, bitter laugh. “I thought you did too.” You stepped into the middle of the room again. “Chris…”

He finally looked up at you. he really looked at you. And God, you looked like a ghost. Not because you were pale or distant but because you weren’t his anymore. His voice cracked in a way that made want to cry “I would’ve done anything. You know that, right?”

You odded. “I know. That’s what scared me.” His breath caught. “What?” You nodded. “You would’ve bent yourself into pieces for me. And I let you. You loved me like I was oxygen. Like if I left, you’d stop breathing. That kind of love… it’s beautiful, but it’s also heavy. It started to feel like drowning.”

The silence that followed wasn’t quiet anymore. It was a scream with no sound. He stood now, slowly, arms hanging useless at his sides. “You made me feel like I wasn’t too much. Like I could be needy and anxious and clingy and you’d still choose me. Every day.”

“I did,” you whispered. His heart stopped at the way you said it.. did. Past tense. A dead thing. “Then why didn’t you fight for us?” You swallowed hard. “Because by the time I realized I was fading, I didn’t want to keep you hoping.”

Chris blinked. “You already were my hope.” You both stood like that for a bit. Only feet apart but you felt worlds away. “I’m sorry.” you softly said before turning to grab the last of your things. Chris stood there for a second before also turning and laying down on the bed cuddling into the pillow that still had the smell of you on it. He could hear you shuffling through things and small sniffles again. he knew you were crying.

It was 1:12 when you had finally collected every you could. you silently looked over at the boy you once loved before walking to the door. Chris looked up at you teary eyed. “wait..” your hand stopped on the door handle.

he wiped his nose. “I will always love you.” He muttered. you almost lost right then and there. he almost had hope when you didn’t move. “goodbye Chris.” was all that came out of your mouth as you opened the door and shut it quietly behind you.

He sat in silence for a good second before it all hit him. he bawled. He finally let it feel real. his teary eyes caught the glimpse of your sweater still sitting on the chair. he couldn’t believe it. he got up quickly as his hand shook. his shaky hands wrapped around the fabric pulling it to his face.

he buried his face in it like it might still hold the sound of your voice, the echo of your laugh, and the softness of your goodbye.

just maybe.. this would finally be ending to everything or maybe it was the start of a whole new wave of hurting.

𝓑ᝰ. i love this sm

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ - @sturniqloo @dollyessence @il0vecatzzz @starrii-sturns @mattsfavginger @chrissturnioloslvt @starfuckoff @heartz4matt @strnilolover @n0tnovaa @ivysturnss @sturniolozbae @n1ckst7rnies @stvni0l0 @maddysouls

[silverspringsstare-deactivated2]

literally why am i so lonely why do none of my friends text me why do they leave me out when we hang out why am i so lonely i don’t get it im a ray of sunshine

[chrispleasure]

so real ☺️ i always have to reach out or text them first. and whenever they are free to hang out im sick😭😭

[chrisstvrns]

⌞𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥: 𝐜.𝐬. - 𝟐⌝ ⸝⸝ 

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, emotional neglect, emotional confrontation, relationship breakdown, crying, emotional vulnerability, references to therapy, implied separation, reconciliation themes, emotional distress.

you walk toward the door, feeling yourself nearly crying for the first time in months. nick and matt spoke to you. they spoke to you more than your own boyfriend. 

lost in your thoughts, you barely even hear chris calling your name. 

“y/n.” he repeats, sterner.

you flinch, quickly wiping tears off of your face as you turn to face him. you stand still at the top of the stairs, staring at him. 

“where are you going?” he asks, his voice broken, his eyes red as if he’d been crying. 

you blink at him.

he’s never looked like this. not even after fights. not even after all those nights you bit your tongue so hard it bled. his chest rises and falls in uneven patterns, hands clenched like he’s trying to stop them from shaking. there's a crease between his brows that wasn’t there before, like worry has carved itself permanent.

you don’t answer.

you can’t, not yet. your throat is too tight, and the weight of his voice saying your name-your real name, not a nickname, not the softened version he used to murmur into your collarbone-hits you like a wave you didn’t see coming.

“please,” he tries again, one step closer now. “just… tell me where you’re going.”

you look down at your bag, then back at him.

“away,” you manage, your voice quiet, hoarse from disuse. “just for a while.”

he nods slowly, like he’s absorbing the words but not really understanding them. like they’re foreign, like they don’t belong in this house where everything used to be shared. even pain.

“dont” he states. its not him asking you to stay. he’s telling you to stay. theres a desperation in his voice that nearly makes you crumble.

“why not?” you question, your voice shaken as if you’re about to cry.

chris takes another shaky step forward, hands still balled at his sides. “because if you walk out that door,” he says, voice trembling, “i don’t know if you’ll come back. and i can’t—” he chokes on the rest, jaw locking like he’s physically holding something in. “i don’t think i can survive that.”

you swallow hard, staring at him like you’re trying to memorize this version of his face—worn down, open, real in a way he hasn’t let himself be in months. “you’ve been surviving without me just fine,” you whisper. “i’ve been here, chris. i’ve been right here, and you didn’t even see me.”

his face contorts, like the words physically hurt. “i did,” he says quickly. “god, i did. but every time i tried to fix it, i felt like i was already too late. like i’d missed the window where it mattered.”

“you didn’t try,” you say, voice cracking. “you stayed late at the studio with sam, recording stupid raps for no reason. stayed out late filming. you didn’t ask why i stopped sleeping in our bed. you didn’t fight for us, chris. you let me disappear.”

“that’s not true.” he steps forward again, close enough now that you can see how red his eyes really are. “i noticed everything. i noticed when you stopped humming around the house. when your texts got shorter. when you started flinching whenever i touched your back instead of your hand. i noticed, and i panicked. i thought i could fix it by giving you space. but space just turned into distance, and i didn’t know how to close it.”

you shake your head, wiping at your eyes again, frustrated. “i didn’t want space. i wanted you. i wanted us to talk, to fight, something. but you just kept pulling away and i didn’t know how to chase you without losing myself.”

chris exhales, eyes closing like the truth has weight. “i was scared,” he admits. “terrified. of saying the wrong thing. of realizing we were actually breaking. of watching something we built our whole lives around fall apart while i stood there holding the last piece.”

you look down at your feet, the edge of your bag just visible between your shoes. “then why now?” you ask. “why stop me now, after all this time?”

“because i finally realized i’d rather break with you than be whole without you.”

silence stretches between you, heavy and sharp.

“i miss us,” he continues, quieter now. “i miss sunday mornings. i miss hearing you singing in the shower when you didnt know i was home. i miss the sound of your laugh at 2 a.m. when we’re too tired to remember why we’re awake. i miss dancing in the kitchen, even when there’s no music.”

your breath hitches, because he remembers. he remembers.

he steps closer, slowly, like he’s waiting for you to bolt. “i know i failed you,” he says. “i know i let you carry this weight alone. but if you let me… i want to try again. not to go back. i don’t want the old us. i want something better.”

you study him for a long time. “do you even know how?” you ask. it’s not cruel. it’s honest. raw.

“i don’t,” he admits without hesitation. “but i’ll learn. i’ll go to therapy. i’ll take time off. i’ll delete 

the channel if i have to.”

your head jerks up. “you wouldn’t.”

“if it meant keeping you?” he says. “yes. without even thinking.”

that silences you.

chris steps forward again, this time reaching, tentatively, for your hand. you don’t stop him. his fingers brush yours, and the contact is electric in its quietness.

“i want to relearn how to hold your hand,” he whispers. “i want to wake up and notice everything. i want to ask how your day was and really listen. i want to mess up and say sorry without shutting down. i want to hold you when you cry. i want you back downstairs, in bed. not just because it smells like us, but because it is us. i want to build something new, even if it’s slow and scary.”

you look down at your hands, at the space he’s bridged. you want to believe him.

“i don’t know if i can just come back,” you whisper. “i don’t know if i trust it yet.”

chris nods, tear sliding silently down his cheek. “then let me earn it. i’ll sleep on the couch for once. i’ll write you letters if you don’t want to talk. i’ll show up in every small way i didn’t before.”

the words settle between you, aching and real.

you press your lips together. “i still think i need to go. just for a little while.”

“i know,” he says. “and i’ll be here. i’ll be right here. every day. fixing what i can. learning what i didn’t. so when you’re ready… if you’re ready… we can find each other again.”

you nod, finally, and something releases in your chest. the tears fall freely now. chris doesn’t rush you. he doesn’t beg.

he just opens his arms.

and you walk into them.

you wrap your arms around his neck, face buried in his chest. 

you stay there for a long time. not fixing. not promising. just being. breathing the same air again. heartbeats syncing in quiet, broken rhythm.

maybe you’ll go. maybe you need to.

but maybe this is the first step back. not to what was, but to what could still be.

and you remembered everything. you remembered it all too well.

────────────୨ৎ────────────

aurora's notes: hehe im excited for part three

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

[humpster35]

Why do I have this feeling that tomorrow’s video will be the talk of the town??

it’s just a gut feeling(pls do not come for me)

[chrispleasure]

happy birthday to meee !!

[chalstblr]

ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ

summary: when ADHD!reader forgotten to take their meds in the morning and is struggling to turn off when chris wants to relax.

wc: 1014

tw: none !! very very fluff ! /ᐠ - ˕ -マᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

You sat on the couch, your legs crossed and your fingers were tapping rhythmically against the fabric. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting warm rays across the room, but you felt anything but calm. Your mind raced with thoughts, ideas, and snippets of conversations that flitted in and out like butterflies, each one demanding your attention. You had forgotten to take her ADHD medication that morning, and now the world felt like it was spinning a little too fast for you to keep up.

Across the room, Chris had just returned from a long day of filming. His body ached, and the exhaustion weighed heavily on him. All he wanted was to lie down, close his eyes, and drift off into a peaceful sleep. He spotted you, your energy palpable, and he sighed, knowing that getting some rest would be a challenge in your current state. “Hey, baby,” he said, sounding cheerful despite the fatigue that threatened to pull him under. “Do you mind if I lie on your lap for a bit?”

“Of course not! That sounds great!” you replied, your voice bubbling with enthusiasm. As Chris settled himself onto your lap, you began to talk animatedly about your day, your words spilling out in a rapid-fire stream. “You won’t believe what happened at the store! I saw this amazing dress, and I thought about getting it for the party next week, but then I remembered I have to pay rent, and then I started thinking about how much I love that pizza place down the street, and—”

Chris chuckled softly, his eyes fluttering shut. He loved your energy, but right now, he needed silence more than anything. “That sounds fun,” he murmured, hoping to encourage you to keep talking but in a quieter way. He nestled his head against your thigh, trying to block out the whirlwind of your thoughts.

But you were on a roll. “And then I was thinking about how we should totally binge-watch that new series tonight! You know, the one with the dragons? I’ve heard it’s so good, and I really want to know what happens next! Oh, and did you see the trailer for that movie coming out next month? I can’t wait to see it! It looks epic!”

As you rambled on, Chris felt himself drifting. He was exhausted, but your voice was like a soothing melody, even if it was a bit too lively for his current state. He tried to focus on your words, but they began to blend together, forming a background hum that both comforted and distracted him. “Y/N,” he said softly, “maybe we could talk about it later?”

“Later? But I have so many ideas! What if we made a list of all the things we want to do this summer? I mean, we could go to the beach, or maybe take a road trip! I’ve always wanted to see the Grand Canyon, and—”

Chris’s mind, already heavy with fatigue, began to feel overwhelmed. “Y/N,” he interrupted gently, “just for a moment… can we pause? I really need to rest.” He opened his eyes, looking up at you, hoping you could see the exhaustion etched on his face.

The realization hit you like a splash of cold water. You glanced down at Chris, his eyes heavy with sleep, and you felt a pang of guilt. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to keep you awake. I just… I just can’t help it sometimes.” You took a deep breath, trying to rein in your thoughts, but they continued to dance around your mind like a chaotic whirlwind.

Chris shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position. “It’s okay, really. I love hearing you talk, but I just need a moment to recharge. Can we try to quiet down a bit?”

Y/N nodded, your heart racing as she tried to rein in your thoughts. It was as if she had to wrestle with your mind, pulling back the thoughts that wanted to spill out. “Okay, I’ll try,” you promised, your voice softer now. “Let’s just enjoy the moment.”

As the minutes passed, the room fell into a gentle lull. You focused on the rhythm of Chris’s breathing, the way his body relaxed against your lap. You began to feel a sense of calm wash over you, the chaos in your mind slowly quieting. You could feel the warmth of his weight on her lap, and it made you smile.

But just when you thought she had found your center, a new thought bubbled up. “You know, I was thinking about how we could decorate the apartment! Maybe we could get some plants or—”

“Y/N,” Chris said, his voice a mix of amusement and exhaustion, “I really need you to stop for a second.” He opened his eyes, looking up at you with a gentle smile. “Let’s just enjoy this quiet, okay? I promise we-“ Chris pauses. He doesn’t want to talk later, or now, he wants to fall asleep and succumb to his exhaustion. "...can talk about everything another time?" He closed his eyes again, seeking the solace of silence.

You bit your lip, a wave of frustration washing over you. It wasn't that you didn't want to be quiet for Chris; you genuinely did. It was just that your mind felt like a runaway train, careening down a steep hill with no brakes. You closed her eyes, focusing on your breath, trying to anchor yourself in the present moment. You imagined your thoughts as leaves floating down a stream, watching them pass without latching on to any particular one. It was a struggle, but you persisted, determined to find a moment of peace.

After a few minutes, you felt a shift. The frantic energy began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of groundedness. You ran your fingers softly through Chris's hair, the simple act of touch bringing you further into the present. You realized that sometimes, the most loving thing you could do was to simply be still, to offer Chris the quiet he needed, even if it meant battling your inner chaos. The sunlight continued to stream through the window, now casting a golden glow on their shared moment of tranquility.

a/n: this is very personal to me and is no way glamorising ADHD and the struggles that come with it. The summery is linked to an ADHD research website if you want to further educate yourself </3

thank you for reading my loooves </3

ⓘ chalstblr™ i do not agree with my work being stolen, reused or turned into cai / chai bots without consent. Reblogs / reposts are really appreciated!! <3

[prettysturns]

࿐ PRETTY - STURNS

☾ PRETTY. chris’ biggest baby. 19. dark mode. brunette and brown eyed girl. black cat. dark mode. late nights. pierce the veil. slut 4 taco bell. violent love. roses. chocolate milk. red lips 2 white.

༄ more soon..

༝༚༝༚ pretty

[chrispleasure]

so cute!

[lvrsturniolo]

I’ve Been There Too. -M.S

Warnings: Depression, anxiety, emotional conversations, therapy, crying, mentions of past mental health struggles, fluff, healing.

A/N: I wrote this in honor of mental health awareness month, never be scared to reach out, you are so so loved and appreciated!!

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

001— The Quiet Breaking.

Matt noticed before you said anything.

He could tell in the way your texts grew shorter. How your tone flattened. How your eyes dulled. He saw it in the way you hesitated before hugging him, like even touch was too much.

He knocked on your door after three days of silence. You opened it slowly—hair messy, hoodie three sizes too big, eyes hollow.

And Matt didn’t say a word.

He just stepped inside, wrapped his arms around you, and held you. You didn’t have to explain. He knew.

Because once upon a time, Matt had been you.

Sophomore year of high school, Matt hit rock bottom.

He was exhausted all the time. Numb. Angry for no reason. He stopped doing the things he loved. He couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Some days, he couldn’t even look his brothers in the eye without guilt.

Eventually, he cracked. One night, he told his mom everything. And for the first time, he felt seen. Like someone really listened.

He started therapy. Quietly. Once a week. It wasn’t a quick fix, but it helped. He learned how to talk about the pain. How to sit with the bad days without letting them swallow him whole.

By the time he graduated, he was doing better. Not perfect. But better.

He never forgot that version of himself—the scared kid who thought he’d never feel okay again.

And now, as he looked at you—his person, crumbling silently in his arms—he knew exactly what you needed.

002: Safe Ground

Matt didn’t rush you.

He didn’t say “cheer up” or “you’ll be fine.” He knew those words did more harm than good.

Instead, he texted you every morning just to say, “I love you so much. You’re so strong.”

He brought over your favorite snacks, even if you barely touched them.

He sat beside you on the floor and quietly picked out a movie you loved when you were little.

One night, you finally spoke.

“I think I’m… not okay.”

Matt looked over at you gently. “I know.”

You looked down, ashamed. “You’ve never seen me like this.”

He gave a small laugh—warm, not mocking. “No, but I’ve seen this before.”

You looked up.

“I was in therapy all through high school,” he admitted. “Didn’t tell many people. But I was in a really dark place back then. It took me a long time to feel okay again.”

You blinked. “You? But you’ve always seemed—”

“Put together?” He shrugged. “I got good at faking it. But underneath? I was drowning.”

That truth cracked something in you. Not fear—relief. He understood. Not as a spectator, but as someone who once fought the same fight.

003–First Steps

You told him you weren’t sure if therapy would work for you.

He didn’t push.

He just said, “It might not fix everything right away. But it gives you a place to start. It helped me figure out what I was feeling—and why.”

A few days later, you made a list of therapists.

He helped you call one.

The day of your first session, Matt waited outside in the car with a coffee and a playlist of songs that had gotten him through his roughest days.

When you came back out, eyes red but lighter, he didn’t ask what happened. He just smiled and said, “M’proud of you. So proud of you sweetheart.”

And you believed it.

004–Learning Each Other

Healing wasn’t pretty.

You had days where you still shut down. Days where you wanted to scream. Nights where you couldn’t sleep and just stared at the ceiling, panicked for no reason.

Matt was steady through it all.

He kept the lights low when you needed it. Brought you noise-canceling headphones on bad days. Let you ramble about your anxiety spirals and never once made you feel stupid.

You started to open up about the thoughts you were afraid to say out loud.

Matt always listened with that same quiet strength.

“I’ve thought that, too,” he’d say sometimes. “It doesn’t make you bad. Just human.”

005–Getting Stronger

You started noticing changes.

Small ones.

You laughed more. Took short walks. Made a real breakfast instead of skipping meals.

You even went out with your friends for a few hours one weekend—and didn’t panic.

When you came home and told Matt about it, he looked at you like you’d just climbed Everest.

He immediately pulled you into him, hugging you tightly before pulling away with a soft kiss on your temple. “I’m so proud of you sweet girl. I told you you’re so strong.”

006– Helping Each Other

Matt didn’t struggle the way he used to—but that didn’t mean he never had hard days.

He still got overwhelmed sometimes. Still had moments where his chest tightened or his thoughts raced.

You noticed it one night. He was quiet. Withdrawn. You caught him rubbing at his temples like he was trying to force peace into his head.

Instead of panicking, you walked over and gently pressed your hand to his shoulder.

“Want to talk?” you asked.

Matt looked at you—surprised, but grateful.

“Can we just sit for a while?”

So you did. Cuddled up. In silence.

And afterward, he kissed your forehead and whispered, “You’re helping me too, you know. More than you know.”

007– Whole.

You weren’t broken anymore.

You were growing. Blooming.

You still had bad days. But they didn’t destroy you.

Because now, you had tools. You had therapy. You had him.

Matt watched you become softer with yourself. Watched you laugh louder. Say “I’m okay” and actually mean it.

He’d always loved you—but now, watching you fight for yourself made him love you even deeper. He loved how strong you were.

On the anniversary of your first therapy session, he brought home takeout from your favorite restaurant and sat on the couch with you under a blanket.

“You’ve come so far,” he said.

You smiled, eyes misty. “So have you. Even if you’re already on the other side of it.”

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “But I’ll never stop being someone who understands.”

And that was the difference.

You were never alone.

Because love from someone who gets it? That kind of love stays. That kind of love heals.

A/N: If you’re struggling right now, please know that healing is possible. You’re not weak for needing help. You’re strong for surviving. And the right people will never make you feel like you’re too much. Please reach out. You are worthy of love, even on your hardest days. 💗

[chrispleasure]

oh okay im sobbing 😭

[smittysgmail]

dare i say, this is getting a bit ridiculous now.

the no video after tour was enough tbh, if you think about it from the other way around, people, including myself, paid thousands of dollars/pounds to be at tour, travelled 16 hours in my case, and then we couldn’t even get a vid.. i completely understand in that case they needed to rest, but wasn’t it like 2 whole weeks since tour ended at that point.

but what’s the excuse now, this isn’t the first time in the past couple months they’ve done this either. the stalking situation cannot be used as reasoning either because matt especially has been the most active he’s been in months this past week, and if that was the issue they would have gone completely silent. if they were to have been silent all week, and not post today because of the situation. i would have 100% understood, i’m sure we all would. but that hasn’t been the case

i get nervous saying this shit because people lick their arses so bad in this fandom. like i love them so much, but it’s okay to call them out. they’ve one ‘public’ obligation a week, to post a 20 minute video on a friday at 2:30. that’s it. they don’t do anything else anymore. it’s not like we’re getting hours of twitch streams, wednesday videos, podcasts or anything. one video is all they gotta do. bare in mind it pays their rent, is their source of income, is the reason they are where they are. like how are we struggling with ts.

of course it’s also okay to be late with things, it happens. but again, this is their job. haven’t they been doing this long enough for this to be a non existent problem anymore. schedule videos if you know your gonna be busy or if there’s a chance your gonna miss a post. but the thing that bothers me if the lack of communication, being almost an hour late at this point is one thing, but for there to also be complete radio silence, is ridiculous. if your running late or even if you aren’t gonna post. it takes a second to tell us. they’ve got no communication skills with us anymore

i understand not wanting to talk to us like they used to, especially after the past week. but it’s still, again, their fucking job to do this shit. i feel like it’s not a lot to expect. this is probaly at this point the most hate they’ve ever gotten in their career with the ‘their falling off’ and ‘their gonna quit soon’ shit, so if that isn’t the case wouldn’t you go out of the way to improve your content and do the absolute most to ensure people stop talking. not to make it worse, again.

i feel like it this point it’s starting to piss everyone off. at the end of the day, their 21 year old men and this is their only job. when they do stuff wrong, we don’t have to baby them and act like the lack of accountability or communication is okay. in their line of work, that is quite literally their only responsibility. and even amongst everything going on with the hate at the minute. they clearly still don’t care.

this obviously isn’t just about not posting today, cs that would be slightly dramatic lol. but this has been a problem for months and months. even before tour. there’s no excuses anymore.

don’t rip me to shreds please and thanks :)

[chrispleasure]

never knew i’d be sitting alone in the toilets eating my lunch because all my friends ( 2 friends ) ditched me 😆

[chrisstvrns]

https://www.tumblr.com/chrisstvrns/785276856327864320/highschoolsweetheartdadchris-angst

ooo maybe chris comes home late when he promised to do something and completely forgot (maybe it happened several times) or an argument that happened out of built up stress

you’re cleaning pasta sauce off of madi’s face when the clock hits 8:37 p.m.

nicky is already half asleep on the couch, clutching a juice box he swore he had to have before bed, even though he hasn’t touched it in twenty minutes. madi’s in your lap, sticky fingers in your hair, whispering something about a pink dinosaur.

the ipad on the coffee table is still playing the “jake and the neverland pirates” theme song for the millionth time, and the dinner you reheated twice for chris sits untouched on the kitchen table.

“is daddy home?” madi asks softly, eyes blinking slow.

“no, baby,” you murmur. “not yet.”

you try to say it evenly. calmly. like it’s not the third night this week he’s said, “i’ll be home by bedtime,” and then... wasn’t.

behind you, you hear nick laughing upstairs in his room, probably editing something stupid from their last video. matt’s door is shut. it’s a full house, always loud, always moving. but right now, all you feel is the silence coming from your boyfriend’s end of it.

when the front door finally opens at 9:03, you don’t look up. you just brush madi’s hair behind her ear and keep rocking her, like that’s the only thing anchoring you to the floor.

chris’ voice is soft behind you. “hey…”

you don’t answer.

he walks around the couch slowly, like he’s trying not to spook you. he takes in the scene, nicky passed out, madi clinging, you looking like you’ve been through a storm and didn’t even get the decency of thunder.

“i’m sorry,” he says. “i didn’t think the shoot would take that long. laura wanted me to refilm the sponsor bit-”

“it’s always something, chris,” you say softly, eyes still on your daughter. “there’s always a reason. but they don’t care about your reason. they just wanted to say goodnight. they just wanted to give their daddy a hug before they went to sleep.”

chris sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “i know. i just-”

“they waited,” you cut in, finally looking up at him. “they sat at the window. then they went out to the porch. madi asked me to call you three times. nicky set a plate for you at dinner. told me to keep reheating it ‘til you came home.”

chris looks like he’s been punched in the chest.

“i didn’t mean to miss it,” he says, voice rough. “i swear to god, i thought i’d make it back.”

you stand up slowly, careful not to wake madi, and start toward the stairs. “you always think you’ll make it back. but ‘thinking’ doesn’t tuck them in. ‘thinking’ doesnt stop your children from crying and sitting in the window waiting for daddy to get home.”

you’re almost all the way downstairs before you hear him say, softly, “i’m trying.”

you stop. not because it was convincing, but because you want it to be. you want to believe he’s trying, and not just distracted. not just young. not just caught up in the chaos of content and cameras and brothers who don’t have toddlers climbing on their backs while they answer emails.

you turn, meet his eyes, your own filling with tears. “then try harder.”

and you disappear down the hall, into the dim nursery, where the only thing that matters is making sure your kids fall asleep knowing they’re loved, even if they’re still waiting for their dad to show up in time for dinner and bedtime.

in the twins’ room, the night is quieter. the walls hum softly with the noise of the house above. nick’s muffled laughter, the occasional creak of the pipes, the still playing ipad. but here, in the low light of the nursery, everything slows.

you lay madi down first, gently easing her off your shoulder and onto her bed, brushing the stray curls from her forehead. she stirs when her head touches the pillow, blinking up at you.

“daddy came home?” she asks, voice like paper.

you smooth her blanket over her chest. “he’s upstairs, baby.”

she nods, barely, and her eyes slide shut again.

after madi’s asleep, you go back upstairs to get nicky, lifting the juice box from his still clenched hand and adjusting the blanket where it’s slipping off his shoulder. he doesn’t wake up, just lets out a soft snore and curls deeper into the couch.

you lift him, quickly cleaning his face before bringing him down to his room, settling him in his bed.you sit between their beds for a while, just breathing. listening to them. letting the weight of the day sink in and settle somewhere behind your ribs.

upstairs, you hear footsteps. hesitant. then the floorboards creak near the top of the stairs, and the door opens a crack.

“can i…” chris’s voice is quieter now. less practiced. “can i come down?”

you don’t answer. but you don’t say no either.

the steps creak under his weight. you don’t look up. just run your thumb over the seam of nicky’s pillowcase, back and forth.

chris crouches down beside you. you can feel the heat of him there. close, but not touching.

“they’re asleep?” he asks.

“yeah.”

he looks over at them, eyes glassy. “i missed them.”

you nod once. “they missed you more. i did too.”

he swallows, the sound thick in his throat. “i know i keep screwing this up. i know it doesn’t feel like i’m there. but i’m trying to be. i’m just… tired. and confused. and scared i’m doing all of it wrong.”

you close your eyes. “you don’t have to be perfect. you just have to show up.”

“i want to,” he says. “god, i want to. i think about you guys all the time. but then the day just… it slips away from me. and i blink and it’s dark and i’m still not home.”

you finally look at him, and he looks small. not in a pathetic way, just in a human way. like a boy trying to play grown-up in a house full of responsibility he didn’t realize would be so heavy.

“i don’t need grand gestures, chris. i don’t need a perfect dinner or planned bedtime stories. i just need you here. in the room. in their lives.”

“i am in their lives. you know i am. but i know i havent been the best daddy lately, but i’ll fix it,” he says. “i don’t know how yet, but i will.”

you nod. “start by being here tomorrow. not an empty promise. a presence. dont run out when i need you most, because laura says this or laura says that. please.”

he reaches for your hand, and you let him take it.

the kids sleep on, breathing soft and even.

and for the first time all night, the silence doesn’t feel like a punishment. it feels like a pause. a chance. 

he takes your hand, pulling you out of the twins’ room, into your own bedroom. the two of you settle in bed, and he kisses your forehead before you both drift to sleep. 

[chrispleasure]

omgggg😭🥹

[etherealsturns]

how about a rock on my finger?

a part of you remembers a time when chris told his brothers— nate included,— and their whole platform that he would simply not cry during his wedding, and that he didn’t understand the hype in general.

but now, standing face to face with that same man, it’s seems he was a total liar.

you look at him in awe as the lights twinkled around you two, family and friends surrounding the floor that the two of you stood on. iris by the goo goo dolls hummed through the speakers in varying spots around the room— successfully submersing you in the moment.

your arms were hooked around his neck while his hands rested gently on your waist, but he still somehow managed to make you feel like you’d never be let go despite his soft mannerism.

swaying in unison as everyone’s attention was focused solely on you guys, you watch chris’ eyes fill with love and devotion. his suit jacket was long forgotten— laying on the backrest of his chair, which left him in his half-unbuttoned button up and black tie. you saw the way his eyes periodically shifted to your white dress, flowing gracefully across the floor.

“im so in love with you…” you hear him whisper faintly in your ear. what you’re not certain if you heard, however, was the tiny sniffle that came with it.

you maneuver your head to catch the small glint on his cheek, rolling like a delicate raindrop. the corners of your lips twist into a smile— but not in the teasing way, in the most purest, tender, intimate way.

“you big baby,” you coo, your own eyes filling with tears of love. he smiles back, rubbing your lower back with his hands.

“if i had all this to do over again… i’d find my way back to you, over and over baby, i promise.” he professed, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

a small pout of warmth spread on your face, causing you to bury your face in the crook of his neck. his hand came up to rest on the back of your head, caressing it gently.

“im just so happy its you.” the whisper came out of your mouth as you lifted your head once more, reaching a hand up to brush a salty tear that tried to escape from his cheek. you shook the dot of runny sodium off your finger before placing a gentle kiss where the tear previously stood.

you swayed slowly as the world seemingly condensed down to just the two of them, but that’s all that mattered anyway.

a/n — work song started playing while writing this and now im lowk crying? anywho ! is this ass? idk

[chrispleasure]

iris by the goo goo dolls !!

[chrisstvrns]

.✦ ─ 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆…˚꩜｡ ⌞the sturniolo family!!⌝ ⸝⸝ 

.✧ ─ ⌞highschoolsweetheart!mom!reader⌝ ⸝⸝ 

.✧ ─ ⌞highschoolsweetheart!dad!chris⌝ ⸝⸝ 

.✧ ─ ⌞nicolas matthew sturniolo⌝ ⸝⸝ 

.✧ ─ ⌞madison nicolette sturniolo⌝ ⸝⸝ 

[chrispleasure]

omg these are the cutest!! so excited for more!