sturnsdoll

[sturnsdoll]

Oh he’s talkin bout INNIT

⌞chris being an absolute munch⌝ ⸝⸝ 

warnings: pussy eating, fingering, overstimulation, dom!chris, boob grabbing, lmk if i missed anything

word count: 443

based off of this post ( @delilahsturniolo )

your loud moans filled the room, and chris didn’t even flinch. just groaned into your pussy and shoved two fingers inside you like he’d been waiting for you to start falling apart.

he curled them immediately, fucking you hard and deep while his mouth stayed locked on your clit, tongue moving fast and filthy. no build up, no teasing, just work. all wrist and spit and that hungry little growl he always gave when you started to soak his fingers.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” he muttered, voice muffled against you before he dove right back in. he spit on your clit, tongue spreading it around while he pounded his fingers into you rough and steady, knuckles slapping against you every time he bottomed out. “you like that? you like gettin’ fucked like this?”

“y-yeah, chris, fuck, don’t stop-” you gasped, voice catching when he curled his fingers just right.

he didn’t stop to listen, just laughed, low and wrecked, and added a third finger, stretching you open while his tongue flicked faster. his head moved like he was trying to devour you, shaking side to side, lips locked on your clit, sucking so hard your legs jolted.

“take it,” he growled, voice thick and mean, “take it just like that. come on. i know you’re close. i can feel you.”

“oh my god, i’m gonna- fuck, please, please,” you cried, barely aware of what you were saying, your hands clutching the sheets, his hair, anything.

and you were. you were so fucking close it hurt, your whole body twitching, hips rocking against his face like your life depended on it. his fingers hit that spot deep inside over and over, and he just kept moaning, eating you like it was his last meal, like making you cum on his tongue was the only thing that mattered.

then his free hand came up, grabbing your tit, squeezing hard while he buried his face deeper between your legs, grinding into you like he couldn’t get enough. spit, slick, everything dripping down your thighs, and still he didn’t stop.

you came hard, loud and shaking, and he held you there through all of it, fingers still fucking you through your high while his mouth stayed glued to your clit, licking you through every wave like he needed it.

“c-chris, s’too much, i can’t- ” you whimpered, trying to push him away, chest heaving.

he grabbed your hips and pulled you back down almost immediately. “nah,” he said, voice wrecked, breath hot and heavy. “we’re not done.”

his hand dropped, reaching down to undo his balenciaga belt. “you said you could take it, right? so fucking take it.”

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aurora's notes: im too tired to do the format i normally do, my deepest apologies. thank yew.

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

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

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

[sturnsdoll]

do we want (pop)star!reader x youtuber!chris?

[sturnsdoll]

HOWVE U BEEN SWEETHEART

IVE BEEN GOOD HOW R YOUU !! I MISSED IT HERE !!

[sturnsdoll]

okay so would u mind a little me on you action bccc im into that gay shit👅 #gabeitch

ig we gotta celebrate pride somehow

[sturnsdoll]

i'm back, locked in and working on a new au for y'all also inbox is wide open js like my legs cmon now !!

[sturnsdoll]

IM TALKIN BOUT INNITTTTT 😛

p u s s y t r a i n i n g c . s

i n w h i c h . . . chris comes home frustrated, and the only thing on his mind is fucking the anger away.

w a r n i n g s . . . smut, p in v, fem receiving oral, male receiving oral, pressuring, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, gagging, crying, creampie, aftercare, pussy spanking, rough language and handling, derogatory language (slut, whore, etc.)

it was unusual for chris to be annoyed with you, let alone be annoyed by your sounds. it was long day. it was clear in the sharp set of his jaw, the stubble decorating his cheekbones, and mostly the way his fingers twitched. oh, not to mention he nearly slammed the apartment door off its hinges. he was itching to take his anger out on something, and you sitting there all pretty drew in his attention.

it made your stomach turn—not with fear, but with a kind of electricity. because even though chris was quiet when he was angry, there was a weight to it. a pressure. like the air shifted. like your body instinctively braced, not because you thought he’d hurt you, but because you knew exactly what he needed.

he didn’t say hi when he walked in. didn’t kiss you like he usually did. just kicked his shoes off with a grunt and tossed his keys onto the counter so hard they skidded. his chest was rising fast. he paced once, twice, before his eyes cut to you on the couch like you were the one thing in the room still breathing too calmly.

you blinked up at him, lips parted, legs tucked underneath you, the blanket slipping off your shoulder.

“gonna look at m’like that?” his voice was low. rough. dangerous in a way that made heat pool in your stomach.

you swallowed. “like what?”

his jaw ticked. “like you want me to fuck y’dumb.”

your breath caught.

then—like a switch—he was walking toward you, slow but certain. a shadow of something wild in his eyes.

you didn’t move. couldn’t. didn’t want to.

“long fuckin’ day,” he muttered, stopping just in front of you. his hand slid into your hair, gentle for half a second before gripping tighter. “and you’re sittin’ here making those little sounds like you don’t know what that does to me.”

your thighs clenched. “i didn’t mean—”

“yeah, you did,” he snapped. but not angry with you. angry at everything else. and needing you to fix it.

he pushed the blanket off you fully, let his eyes drag over your bare legs, the tank top you wore without a bra, the softness of your skin. he exhaled like it hurt to hold back.

“you just gonna sit there,” he whispered, “or you gonna help me feel better?”

you bit your lip, heart pounding. “what do you want me to do?”

his answer was immediate. raw.

“get on y’knees.”

and you did—slowly, letting him see the way you obeyed, the way you ached to be good for him. he watched you, his hands fisting at his sides, chest heaving. his hoodie fell to the floor. the zipper hit the tile. his belt followed.

he stepped closer. tilted your chin up with two fingers. “open your mouth,” he breathed.

he paused his movements, brushing his thumb against your lips, which instinctively wrapped around it. “fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

you stayed still, let him press his thumb deeper until it brushed the back of your throat, until tears pricked in your lashes and your thighs rubbed together because the helplessness—the need—was already simmering through you.

then, finally, he undid his jeans.

you heard the clink of the buckle, the sharp hiss of fabric dragged down fast. his cock was already hard, flushed at the tip, and when he wrapped one hand around the base and stroked, just once, you could see the tension ripple down his forearm like he was barely holding it together.

“gonna let me use your mouth, baby?” he rasped, voice darker now. “i don’t even wanna think about today.”

you nodded, breath shaky, lips parting again.

he didn’t ask again. didn’t hesitate.

the first thrust was shallow—just the head, just enough to feel your lips wrap tight around him, to hear the wet click of spit when he pulled back. but the second? deeper. his hand cradled the back of your head and he fed it to you inch by inch, slow and deliberate. punishing in its control.

“that’s it,” he grunted, watching your eyes. “take it. open up for me.”

you hollowed your cheeks, let him slide deeper, let your tongue flatten underneath. he groaned, low and guttural, head tipping back for a split second before he looked down again, eyes locked on yours.

your hands gripped his thighs for balance, fingers digging into the denim around his knees. spit was already beginning to drip down your chin, and he fucking loved it—his hips rolled forward, just once, deeper than before, until you gagged around him.

“fuck, baby—just like that. let me use you.”

he didn’t stop.

he fucked your mouth like he needed it. like it was therapy. rough, rhythmic thrusts that made your eyes tear up and your core ache with every single pass of his cock over your tongue. you could hear yourself—wet, obscene sounds filling the quiet apartment along with his ragged breath and the muttered curses he kept spitting through clenched teeth.

“such a pretty little mouth. made to suck cock, huh?” he groaned.

you whimpered around him—both from the intensity and the way your thighs were soaked now, squirming for relief. and he noticed.

he pulled back suddenly, letting his cock slide free with a thick, wet sound. a string of spit stayed connected between you, and he wiped it away with his thumb, smearing it across your bottom lip like it was something holy.

you were gasping, flushed, mouth swollen. and still so fucking needy.

“get on the couch,” he said. “spread your legs. i’m not done with you.”

you scrambled back onto the couch, heart racing, legs shaking a little as you reclined against the cushions. chris’s eyes never left you—dark and glassy, like he was barely hanging on.

you pulled your tank top off first. no bra. his gaze dragged over your chest, the way your nipples were already hard from how wrecked he’d gotten you with just his voice and the weight of him in your mouth. he looked possessed.

“shorts too,” he muttered. “now.”

you shimmied them down, no underwear beneath. he groaned when he saw the slick mess between your thighs—your folds glistening, the soft little quiver in your thighs as they spread wider, like your body was begging for him.

“jesus christ,” he whispered, dragging a hand down his face before climbing between your legs on the couch. “you dripping for me already, baby? all that from sucking my cock?”

you nodded, breathless. “please—chris, i need—”

but you didn’t get to finish. because his mouth was on you.

no teasing. no warning. he dove in like he was starved, tongue dragging a thick stripe up your slit before his lips closed around your clit and sucked hard enough to make your whole body jolt. your back arched off the couch, a desperate cry ripping from your throat as your fingers shot into his hair, holding on.

he groaned into you—deep and filthy—as he licked, sucked, devoured you like he was mad about it. like tasting you was the only thing anchoring him after a shit day. and when he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, your thighs snapped around his head like instinct.

“fuck—chris, please—”

“shut up.” he didn’t stop. didn’t even slow. his fingers fucked into you fast and deep while his tongue circled your clit in tight, hungry patterns. you could hear the slick sounds between your legs, feel the obscene heat building in your gut, your whole body trembling under the force of it.

you were gonna come. and he knew it.

he pulled back just enough to speak—his mouth shiny, chin wet, voice low and raw.

“you gonna come for me, baby? on my fuckin’ face?”

“yes,” you gasped. “yes, chris—please, i’m gonna—”

“then fuckin’ come.”

and you did. hard.

your legs locked around his head, your body convulsing with it, loud and desperate and messy as everything cracked open inside you. he didn’t stop until you were twitching, whimpering, pulling at his hair to make him stop because it was too much.

but even then—he didn’t give you a break.

he climbed up your body, still hard, still leaking. lined himself up and looked at you like he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“you want me to fuck you now?” he rasped.

you nodded, dazed, soaked, spent but aching for more. “please.”

and then he was inside you.

no condom. no pause. just a deep, brutal thrust that had your eyes rolling back as he buried himself to the hilt. you felt everything—the way he stretched you open, the way he filled you so completely you could hardly breathe.

he started to move—deep and punishing, slow at first just to watch the way your face crumpled, then faster, rougher, fucking you like he owned you.

“tight as ever,” he growled into your ear. “so fucking wet. you needed this, whore? needed me to fuck it outta you?”

“uh- uh huh.” you whimpered, a little too loud for comfort.

“too loud,” he cooed, voice laced with mock sympathy as his hips drove into you again, deeper this time. “be a little quieter.”

and sure, you tried.

and sure, you failed. miserably.

because how could you be quiet when he was fucking you like this? when your back was arched, legs hooked over his shoulders, his cock slamming into you so perfectly, so brutally, that your vision blurred? every stroke knocked another breath out of your lungs, dragged another sound from your throat—whimpers, gasps, cries that bordered on sobs.

“mm-mm,” he tutted, not slowing at all. his hand slid up your throat, not choking but holding, thumb pressing just beneath your jaw as your head lolled back. “you don’t listen. always so fuckin’ loud when i tell you to be good.”

your mouth hung open, but no words came—just a broken little moan as he shifted his angle and hit something dangerous inside you. your nails clawed at the cushions, your hips twitching against his grip.

“what’s that?” he whispered, leaning closer so his lips brushed your ear. “gonna come again?”

you nodded frantically, body trembling, throat too tight to speak.

“huh. ‘course you are.” he gave a sharp thrust that made you cry out again. “can’t even help yourself, can you? so fuckin’ needy. you like this? getting ruined on my cock while you make all those pretty little sounds?”

you sobbed out a yes, not even caring how pathetic you sounded. you were gone—fucked dumb, so deep in it your body barely felt like your own.

his grip tightened around your throat.

“come then,” he growled. “and keep your eyes on me while you do it.”

and somehow, somehow, you managed it—staring up at him with tears on your lashes and his name breaking on your lips as your whole body shattered beneath him. your muscles clamped around his cock, spasming hard, your moans spilling out no matter how hard you tried to bite them back.

and he loved it.

because a second later, he was losing it too—hips stuttering, a filthy groan dragged from his chest as he spilled into you, deep and hot, holding you open with both hands as he came with a force that left him trembling.

he stayed there for a moment, still inside you, breath hot against your cheek.

“you really don’t know how to shut up,” he murmured, smirking against your jaw. “guess i’ll just have to keep fuckin’ you ‘til you learn.”

you took in deep breaths, trying to blink the stars from your vision, your body still twitching from the aftershocks. every nerve felt like it was on fire. every breath tasted like chris.

but just when you thought you’d come down from your high—

smack.

a hard slap landed square against your already soaked, overstimulated pussy. the sound echoed off the walls, sharp and wet, and your whole body jolted with a strangled cry.

“fuck!—chris—” you gasped, hips twitching away instinctively, only for his arm to hook around your thigh and yank you right back where he wanted you.

“mm-mm, shhh,” he hummed, low and dangerous as he knelt between your legs, his voice thick with post-orgasm haze but laced with something hungrier now. “gotta train this pussy to be quiet.”

he ran two fingers through your folds—slow, almost gentle—and you whimpered at the contact. you were so sensitive you couldn’t think straight. he watched your hips jerk, your thighs tremble, and his grin deepened.

“look at this messy little cunt,” he muttered, dragging your arousal—his cum—down to your clit, circling it until your back arched off the couch again. “still so fuckin’ wet. still leaking for me.”

“chris—too much, i can’t—”

“you can,” he said calmly. “and you will.”

and then his mouth was back on you.

no mercy. no patience. just relentless, obscene suction on your clit while two fingers curled deep inside you again, stretching your swollen walls and dragging moans from your lips that you couldn’t even begin to hold back.

you thrashed, breath catching, tears slipping down your cheeks from how intense it was—your thighs trying to close, your hands scrambling for something to grip, something to ground you.

but he held you open. forced you to take it.

“you said you’d be good,” he growled against your skin. “so fucking be good.”

your body betrayed you. despite the overstimulation, despite the ache—your orgasm was already building again, terrifying in its speed, the pressure crushing.

“no—chris, i’m gonna—i can’t—please—”

“shut up. yes. yes you can,” he snapped, rubbing hard circles over your clit while his fingers fucked you fast and deep and relentlessly. “you’re gonna come for me again. right now.”

and you did.

you came harder than before—louder, wetter, your entire body locking up as a gush of release flooded his hand and the couch cushions below. you sobbed through it, shaking uncontrollably, legs twitching as he kept going just a second longer, milking it out of you, letting you writhe and cry and fall completely apart.

only then—only then—did he slow, pulling his fingers out, slick and glistening, before sucking them clean with a low, satisfied hum.

he leaned over you, gaze molten, his voice barely above a whisper.

“that,” he breathed, “was for making all those sounds.”

your whole body was trembling, soaked and flushed, your chest rising in frantic little pants as you tried to ground yourself—but chris wasn’t done.

not even close.

you barely had time to blink before he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you over—face pressed into the cushions, ass up, legs spread wide.

“look at this mess,” he muttered, dragging his fingers down your slick folds again, letting your wetness drip down your thighs. “you’re fucking dripping. ruined my couch already.”

you whined into the cushion, heat blooming in your cheeks at how wrecked you were, at the way your body was betraying you—still aching, still needy.

he gave your pussy another hard slap.

smack.

“quiet. stay just like that,” he growled. “don’t fuckin’ move.”

you nodded, barely managing a broken little yes before the blunt head of his cock was back at your entrance. he didn’t ease in this time—he slammed into you, hard and deep, making you cry out into the pillow, your body jolting forward from the sheer force of it.

“fuck, yes,” he groaned, gripping your hips so tight you knew there’d be bruises tomorrow. “this pussy’s never felt so good. all wet and twitchy for me. greedy fuckin’ thing.”

you couldn’t speak. you could only moan, every sharp thrust driving you higher again, overstimulation and desire colliding until you felt like you might explode.

he leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, one hand coming up to fist in your hair and yank your head back, forcing you to arch.

“you like getting fucked like this?” he rasped against your ear. “like a little toy? used until you can’t think?”

you whimpered—yes, a thousand times yes—but all that came out was a gasping, wrecked little moan.

“that’s what i thought,” he muttered, pounding into you harder. faster. the couch creaked beneath you, the wet sounds between your bodies obscene. “you’re fucking perfect. made for this. made for me.”

he reached around, fingers finding your clit again, and you screamed—your whole body jerking, pleasure sparking up your spine like lightning.

“no, no—chris, i can’t—”

“shhh. it’s okay. you can,” he growled. “one more. give me one more.”

you were sobbing into the cushions, eyes rolling back as your body spiraled out of control. every nerve was on fire, every part of you begging for relief. he rubbed tight, relentless circles over your clit while his cock pistoned into you, deeper and harder and faster.

“come on, baby,” he grunted. “be a good fuckin’ girl. come for me.”

and you did.

your orgasm hit like a fucking bomb—your body clenching around him so hard he shouted, thick ropes of cum spilling into you as he fucked you through it, your legs trembling, your voice hoarse from screaming his name.

he collapsed over you, still buried deep, breath ragged against your neck.

your bodies were a mess of sweat, slick, and sex—his cum leaking down your thighs, your skin sticky with heat and every inch of you raw from how good it felt.

you stayed like that, both of you catching your breath.

for a moment, neither of you moved.

not because you didn’t want to—but because you couldn’t.

your body was limp, twitching with the last echoes of your orgasm, and chris’s weight on top of you was grounding in a way that made your heart ache. your breath came in short, shaky bursts, your cheek pressed into the cushion, legs splayed open, thighs sticky with slick and cum and sweat.

then, slowly, he softened inside you and let out a quiet, exhausted breath.

you felt him press a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade. another to your spine. then he whispered, “you okay?”

your throat was dry, but you nodded. “mmhmm.”

he was already moving—slipping out of you carefully, fingers brushing down your sides like he didn’t want to let go just yet. he helped you shift, cradling you gently into your back as your body trembled, and when he looked at you, the cocky edge was gone.

now, it was just him.

your chris.

the one who made sure you were breathing. who checked your pulse. who brushed the hair from your damp forehead with the back of his hand and kissed your temple like it was the only thing keeping him calm.

“too much?” he asked softly, voice thick with something real now—guilt, maybe. or just love.

you shook your head, curling into him.

he exhaled like he needed to hear that. then he stood, only for a second, disappearing into the bathroom. you heard the faucet run, the sound of a towel being soaked, rung out. he came back and knelt beside the couch, warm washcloth in hand.

“spread for me,” he said, but this time, there was no demand. no teasing.

you did, cheeks flushed, and he cleaned you gently—every swipe careful, reverent. he wiped away the mess between your thighs, his cum dripping down your skin, and kissed your knee once he was done.

“you’re so good,” he murmured. “such a sweet girl.”

you smiled, hazy and warm, and reached for him. he wrapped you up in his arms, pulling the blanket over both of you, burying his face in your neck like he wanted to disappear into your skin.

“sorry i came in all pissed n’ shit,” he said after a minute. “you didn’t deserve that.”

you carded your fingers through his messy hair. “you didn’t take it out on me. you let me take it from you.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you.

and then he kissed you—soft, slow, open-mouthed. nothing hungry now. just grateful.

“you always do,” he whispered.

“i always will,” you promised. he held you tighter.

he couldn’t even remember why he was mad earlier.

a / n . . . if this flops theres no point to live on

[sturnsdoll]

I forgot the level of freak that takes place on tumblr. anyways it’s everywhere 🔥

warnings: fingering, dom!chris, sub!reader, overstim?, spanking (once), pet names (baby and mama idk)

you whined closing your legs together as chris's long fingers rested inside. as you closed your legs together in pleasure he stared at you. chris was on top of you as he fingered you.

he tsked "baby stop" he said. his fingers pulling out as he flipped you to your side. he spread your legs apart staring at the sticky mess you made.

"look at her... she wants this" he whispered as he put his fingers in his mouth collecting spit on them. he pulled them out a string of saliva connecting his mouth and his fingers.

you whined as he plunged them back in you. he thrusted them quickly. your breathing heavier as moments passed. "c-cant oh! oh my g-god i can't" you whined your legs starting to close. his leg quickly went in-between your two legs.

"say the word and i stop mama" chris whispered in your ear. he continued his fast pace in your pussy. pornographic moans escaped your plump lips.

chris stared at you laying on your side as you took his fingers. his free hand connecting to your ass. spank. a loud whine escaped your mouth.

his hand rubbed where he hit you "shh you got it" he said. he slipped another finger in your warm slick. you tried closing your legs but the restraint he had on you didn't allow you to.

"oh! oh my- chris!" you whined repeatedly like a damn prayer. "please please chris so so! close" you said. his lips went to your ear "come on baby. show me how good my fingers are" he whispered

you breathed heavily as you came suddenly. your legs twitching. he continued fingering you, slowly. as you came down from your intense orgasm he pulled his fingers out.

"i love you baby" chris said pulling you into a kiss.

an/ i found this in my drafts ☺️

[sturnsdoll]

Anyways let’s all be freaky again

[sturnsdoll]

mattscoquette turning off her inbox and deleting all the posts about the situation proves that she’s not actually sorry. she just doesn’t wanna take actual accountability for what she did, and she’s too scared of all the backlash she is getting. sorry babe, but nobody will forget what you’ve done.

you just should go ahead and deactivate your account along with all the others involved plus the tripouts account. nobody genuinely wants you guys around anymore.

nobody even thought that gc was a good idea to begin with or the fact that you guys made a account to post about your gc. like you were bragging about it, which isn’t cute because all you ever did was make fun of chris. which why don’t you make a apology for him like you made your fake ass ai aplogy about the ableist comment.

even if chris won’t see all this, he still deserves a apology. he has never done anything to you and for you guys to talk about him like that is very sickening and disgusting. especially since one of your gc members has met him. why would you pay all that money if you’re just gonna hate on him. i honestly think they have this weird obsession with matt. you never see them talking any bad about him, it’s juust chris and them making a fake account of nick using slurs.

also if you support any of them from the gc @/mattscoquette @/snoopychris @/sosasturns @/cvnntagious @/chrattho1 @/whore4mattsturniolo block me.

[sturnsdoll]

reclaiming slurs doesn’t mean that you use it as a descriptor for someone and it sure as hell isn’t something I’d consider a “funny moment”.

I can’t imagine why they thought people would find that funny when it’s just distasteful and childish. There are endless choices of words in the english language and yet we’re choosing to use slurs to describe shit? I mean c’mon.

Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.

Don’t come on my page defending or saying that shit EVER.

[sturnsdoll]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango even bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

[sturnsdoll]

soundcheck highlights - triplets spt toronto show

(since we aren’t allowed to record that part)

• someone said the triplets should read fanfic again, they said they’re down. then someone told the triplets to come on tumblr to which nick said they have no plan to

• they got stuck at border patrol coming into canada and security searched like the whole bus

• apparently two birds were flying around our theatre before any of us came in (never seen again)

• matt said pressley (madison beers dog) is his favourite friends dog 🩵 nick followed up with that he loves nate’s dog but it’s panting (nate’s dog is a pug) scares him 😭

• they also shared that all they tried at tim hortons (THE coffee place in canada) was donuts 🧌 so the crowd harassed them to try iced capp’s

• nick said canadian McDonald’s is better

• nick told some story about being in japan, paying to ride those public scooters and then one friend didn’t have ID so he couldn’t

• nick made colby jack references (multiple times actually) 💀 cringe but it’s ok cause he’s nick 💪

• announced koolaid x sc collab!

• chris honestly didn’t say a whole lot! said that he prefers the term munchkins over tim bits though (as a canadian, boooo 👎🏻)

• crowd taught nick how to pronounce toronto in a canadian accent

• someone tried bringing up something to do w potatoes and nick was not having it LMAO

• chris asked the crowd if they fw drake and there were some mixed reactions

[sturnsdoll]

sturniolo triplets spt toronto 4/14/25

ok so who was gonna tell me that they’re real? cause i still don’t believe it.

[sturnsdoll]

what she said

Them saying they done with mid shit and wanna step up… imma believe it when I see it cuz they said this last year. Anyway, imma watch the video later

[sturnsdoll]

c.ai chris fat shaming 😭

[sturnsdoll]

this. If we’re getting one vid a week it should at least be good quality (which they said it would be!) instead it’s the same stuff 💔 love them with every bone in my body but GAWD grace them with some form of organization and consistency

Having videos only on Fridays was the dumbest career move for them lil boys.

The one video a week thing only makes sense for seasoned YouTube vets, people who post well enough on other social media (not every single day about everything; that would be torture) and people who aren’t lazy enough to film a subpar video the night/morning before.

[sturnsdoll]

js wanna say that naughty and nice changed my life. i love your writing 🙏

got me giggling kickin’ my feet n shit