𓂃 INDIA ۶ৎ

☘︎ never thought I'd find you ˖𓂃.

[mattsd0llfac3]

but you're here, and so i love you

India. Dee. .ᐟ doll coded. christian. scottish. eighteen. sturniolo triplets. drew starkey. lover girl. matt girl. angst.

⌗about me .ᐟ

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➴┊always open to requests + inbox is always open

౨ৎ┊feel free to yap all you want

lace dividers - @uzmacchiato

green dividers - @fic-dumpster

[sunrisemill]

I wanna lick along matts tattoos

[mattsd0llfac3]

y'all should totally ask me questions about my loser!Chris x bookshop owner!reader au , and just requests in general

(I primarily write fluff, and angst)

[smittysgmail]

fuck he looks so pissed off.. i’m wet

[mattsd0llfac3]

one of my professors makes this voice sometimes that sounds just like Patrick Bateman...

Anyways, he's actually one of the best professors on the face of this earth

[madisberry]

this has to be one of my favourite car videos <3

it’s crazy how this is like over one year ago

also this has to be my favorite chris outfit he looks so comfy and huggable

[mattsd0llfac3]

chris finding a letter you hid before you committed.

cw : mention s of suicide, angst, crying, guilt, chris and reader were platonic

Chris had always hated how quiet his room felt at night. The hum of his old fan and the occasional creak of the floorboards never filled the silence enough. It was the kind of silence that made thoughts too loud, the kind that forced memories to the surface when all he wanted was numbness.It had been two months. Two months since she was gone.

And yet, everywhere he turned, he saw her.

Her old sweater still hung over the back of his chair. She had left it there after a late movie night, promising she’d grab it “next time.” He had told her she looked ridiculous in it—too big, too faded, but she just laughed and said, “That’s the point, Chris. It’s comfortable.”

Now the sweater felt like a ghost, draped over his chair, mocking him with the truth that there would never be a “next time.”

He tried not to think about the way the phone call had shattered him. Her mom’s trembling voice. The words he couldn’t understand at first because they couldn’t be real. Suicide. Two months and the word still cut him in half.

Chris had replayed everything—every conversation, every laugh, every moment where maybe she was reaching out and he didn’t see it. He asked himself the same questions every night: Why didn’t I notice? Why didn’t I stop her? Why wasn’t I enough?

It was on one of those nights that he found it.

The shoebox.

He’d knocked it off his closet shelf by accident, the lid popping open as it hit the floor. Inside were old photographs, ticket stubs, folded notes they had passed in class years ago. Little fragments of a friendship that had once been so full of life. But tucked near the bottom was an envelope. His name scrawled across the front in her handwriting.

His chest tightened. His breath hitched.

His fingers trembled as he picked it up, as though the paper itself could break him. Part of him wanted to throw it away, pretend he never saw it. But another part of him—the bigger, desperate part—needed to know.

The seal was already broken. Chris slid the letter out, unfolded the paper, and began to read.

Chris,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m not here anymore. Please don’t be angry with me. I tried. God, I really did. But I was so tired of fighting with myself. You always made me laugh when I thought I couldn’t, and you always saw me when I felt invisible. You were the best thing in my life, and that’s why I’m writing this to you.

I need you to know that none of this was your fault. You couldn’t have saved me, no matter how much I wanted to believe someone could. You gave me more love than I deserved, and I hope you remember that. Please don’t let this destroy you the way it destroyed me. Live, Chris. Live in the way I couldn’t. Go to the places we dreamed about. Write the songs we never finished. Fall in love, even if you think you can’t. I want you to. I want you to be happy. That’s the only thing that would make me feel like maybe I did something right.

And when you hear the songs we used to scream-sing in the car, think of me. But don’t just think of the end—remember the laughter, the dumb jokes, the late-night walks. Remember me in the way I wish I could’ve remembered myself. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than I ever knew how to say.

Always,

Your bug

a/n : was feeling a bit angry today..

©mattsd0llfac3. Do not steal or copy. If you want to use as inspiration, please ask.

[mattsd0llfac3]

just wrote the SADDEST angst.. not gonna post the second one just yet because i feel like that'd be evil..

I definitely didn't sob while writing it..

[mattsd0llfac3]

feeling a bit angsty.. hold tight for two soul crushing blurbs (??)..

[eyesonmattyb]

fuck the lip balm i’m taking nick sturniolo

[nerdscout]

chris sturniolo smut

18 PLUS ONLY THIS IS VERY EXPLICIT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he flicked ur clih for 55 hours 55 days

[rafesteddy]

[muwapsturniolo]

Chris hair looked black in that reel and now I need him to dye his hair….my god that just did sum to me

[sematarygirls]

i literally need an exorcism for the sexual demon inside of me

[im-tired-404]

I need Owen Teague so bad yall

It’s not even funny anymore

FUCKKKKKK

[thanas-stuff]

I want that cookie so bad chat

[gigipinissoli]

There’s something so hypnotizing about Bill Skarsgård… I’m not really sure what it is. He’s obviously really good looking, really hot but there’s something else that I can’t quite tell exactly what it is, but it’s there