I Know I Should Be Writing Scarlet Instead Of This (i Promise Im Cooking Tho) But How Much Would U Guys

Touch Starved

Summary: Chris has been away for weeks and when he finally returns, he can't keep his hands to himself. Warnings: suggestive material, use of y/n Word count: 700

It had been two weeks since Chris had left for tour, and the separation was starting to take its toll. The messages, the calls, the video chats—they were all sweet, but nothing compared to being in the same room as him, feeling his presence, his warmth, his touch. The absence of him was starting to gnaw at you.

When Chris finally came back home, you knew it wouldn't be long before he was at your door, his scent and warmth filling the room, replacing the emptiness he'd left behind.

The moment you opened the door, he was on you, arms pulling you into his chest with a sense of urgency that sent your heart racing.

His lips pressed against yours in a kiss so desperate, so full of need that it made you dizzy.

He stepped back, his eyes searching your face, but his hands didn’t leave your body, tracing the familiar curves like he was reacquainting himself with something he had been starved for. His voice was thick with longing when he spoke, "I need you," he rasped. "I need you right now."

You swallowed hard, caught in the intensity of his gaze. "I thought you’d be tired," you whispered, though your body betrayed you, leaning into him, craving the connection as much as he did.

Chris shook his head, a soft growl escaping his lips. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Not once.” His hands roamed down to your waist, his thumbs brushing the skin exposed by your shirt, leaving shivers in their wake. "I need to feel you."

The urgency in his voice and the way his hands tightened on you made it impossible to resist. You could feel his need, raw and undeniable. His lips found your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, his hands pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

You let out a breath, trying to catch your bearings, but the moment he kissed you again, all coherent thoughts left your mind. Your body responded instinctively, pressing into him, hands running through his hair, pulling him closer.

"Missed you so much," he muttered between kisses, his voice was strained, as if saying the words was the only way to hold himself together.

You didn’t need words. You could feel the ache in his touch, the desperation in the way his hands gripped you. The space between you had been too wide for too long, and now he was closing it, pouring all his pent up frustration, longing, and love into every movement.

He pushed you gently against the wall, lips still capturing yours with intensity. His hands slid under your shirt, skimming over your skin, as if reacquainting himself with every inch of you.

"Let me love you Y/N," he whispered, voice trembling with need. "Let me remind you how much you mean to me."

With a soft sigh, you nodded, already moving to pull him closer, hands desprately undoing the buttons of his shirt. The moment was dizzying—like the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you, craving the touch you had both been deprived of.

As the minutes passed, the urgency only grew. Clothes were discarded, and soon there was nothing but the heat of his body against yours, his hands everywhere, caressing, kneading, claiming.

Each touch was like a promise, each kiss a reminder of everything you had both missed.

Chris’s lips found your ear, his voice low and rough. "I'm going to make up for every second I’ve been gone," he murmured, as his hands guided you toward the bed. "I'm going to show you just how much I need you."

But now that he was back, he wasn’t going to let anything stop him.

guys im sorry I would go further but I am terrified to write smut because it would be so bad. I guess if anyone has tips you should share them🤠

GUYS

part 3 of Scarlet today

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𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅

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Personality 🩵

Chris stifled a yawn as he padded down the hallway, bleary-eyed and only half awake. The morning sun was already filtering through the blinds, casting stripes of golden light onto the hardwood floor. As he made his way into the living room, though, he stopped in his tracks.

There she was, leaning over the coffee table with a coffee mug in one hand, a pen in the other, scribbling something in her pink, sticker-covered planner.

Chris blinked a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, but no—she was definitely wearing his favorite sweatshirt, the one with a subtle logo on the chest and a hole in the left cuff. Except now, it looked completely different.

The hem of the oversized hoodie hung just past her mid-thigh, and somehow, she’d managed to tuck the fabric at her waist so that it had a cute, cropped shape. Her hair was styled in her usual soft waves, a pastel pink bow clipped to one side, matching her cozy socks.

And, as always, she’d accessorized: a delicate bracelet on one wrist and a small chain necklace with a charm he’d given her on their last anniversary. His hoodie wasn’t just an old favorite anymore—it looked like it belonged to her.

Chris didn’t know whether to laugh, sigh, or tease her.“Morning, fashion thief,” he said, trying to keep a straight face as he leaned against the doorframe.

She looked up with a mischievous grin. “Oh, hi! You’re up early,” she replied, not missing a beat. “And what do you mean, thief? I don’t see your name on it.”

Chris raised an eyebrow and walked over, flopping onto the couch next to her.

“I don’t need my name on it—it’s mine. You’ve got an entire closet. How’d you end up in my stuff?”

She shrugged, brushing it off casually but with a little smirk tugging at her lips. “It’s comfy, plus it goes with my vibe.” She tugged at the hoodie with both hands, making it cinch at her waist in a way that made Chris’s heart flip a little. “Besides, it needed a little personality. You know—feminine touch.”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re lucky it looks good on you,” he said, trying to sound unaffected.

“Lucky?” She leaned closer, tilting her head in mock suspicion. “Are you saying you wouldn’t wear it if it was pink and had bows on it?”

Chris rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I mean, I might. For the right person, maybe.” He pulled the hood over her head, tugging it lightly to mess up her hair.

She laughed, smoothing out her hair as she fixed him with a playful glare. “Alright, since you seem so attached to it, maybe I’ll just keep it forever.”

“Oh, really?” Chris leaned in, challenging her with a raised eyebrow. “You think you can pull off my style all the time?”

“Please,” she said, scoffing playfully. “I make your style look good. Honestly, you should be paying me for the upgrade.” She struck a dramatic pose, as if she were on a runway, making him laugh even harder.

Chris watched her for a moment, admiring how effortlessly she brought her own style to everything—even his old sweatshirt. There was something special about seeing her blend her world with his, making his things her own. And honestly, he loved it.

Chris grinned as she kept playfully twirling in his sweatshirt, striking overly dramatic poses that were so far from his usual laid-back style that he couldn’t help but laugh. She looked like a cute, rebellious version of herself, and he could see just how much fun she was having.

“Alright, Miss Fashionista,” he said, scooting closer on the couch and narrowing his eyes. “If you’re so good at making my clothes look ‘better,’ then I dare you to style a full outfit—head to toe—in my clothes.” She stopped mid-pose, an eyebrow raised. “Oh, you don’t think I’d do it?”

“Oh, I think you would,” Chris replied, a teasing spark in his eye. “I just don’t think you’d be able to pull off an entire outfit.”

“Challenge accepted.” She set down her coffee mug and folded her arms confidently, tilting her chin up. “Get ready, because I’m about to turn ‘grunge casual’ into something fabulous.” Chris leaned back, arms crossed, thoroughly entertained.

“Go for it. My closet is all yours.”A few minutes later, Chris was still lounging on the couch when he heard her rustling around in his bedroom. His closet wasn’t exactly a treasure trove of options—hoodies, oversized tees, a couple of flannels, and a few beanies—but he had a feeling she could make even the simplest pieces look good.

After some rummaging and the occasional giggle, she finally emerged.

Chris’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of her, now fully decked out in an outfit that was unmistakably his, but with a twist only she could pull off.

She’d layered one of his favorite oversized flannels over a plain white tee, which she’d tucked into a pair of shorts she’d found in his drawer (or maybe they were boxers—it was hard to tell).

She’d rolled the sleeves just slightly and even added a pair of mismatched socks to the look, one knee-high and one scrunched down to her ankle. A chain necklace he’d forgotten he even owned hung loosely around her neck, and she’d topped it all off with one of his beanies pulled snugly over her curls, though her pink bow still peeked out from underneath.

She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, giving a sassy little twirl. “What do you think? Rocking the Chris Sturniolo brand or what?”

Chris couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t even look that good in my own clothes,” he admitted, gesturing for her to do a spin. She obliged, grinning as she gave him a little twirl before flopping onto the couch beside him.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, nudging him with her elbow. “But see? This,” she gestured down at the outfit, “is what happens when you add a little personality.”

Chris shrugged, trying to play it cool even though he couldn’t help but be captivated by how cute she looked. “Yeah, alright, you got me. You actually make my clothes look like they belong on someone famous.”

She feigned offense, placing a hand on her chest. “Chris! Are you saying you’re not famous?”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean,” he laughed, trying to hide how his cheeks were probably turning red.

“But seriously, you’re killing it. I think I might just let you keep this one,” he added, tugging at the hem of the flannel she was wearing.

“Oh, that’s so generous of you,” she said sarcastically. “But you know what? I think I might just have to keep all of these,” she teased, winking.

He shook his head, though his grin stayed plastered on his face.

“Fine, take ‘em all,” he said, pretending to sigh. “But on one condition.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“You have to wear this exact outfit next time we go out,” he said, his expression suddenly serious. “Like, full on, head-to-toe Chris Sturniolo.”

She gasped dramatically, playing along. “Are you asking me to step out in public like this? I don’t know if the world is ready.”

“Oh, I’m serious. The world needs to see this masterpiece.”She rolled her eyes, leaning back into the couch with a playful grin.

“No way. That would ruin my reputation and my ego. No offense but only you can go out in public and look hot as fuck dressed like Christopher Sturniolo.”

For a few quiet moments, they sat together in comfortable silence, her head on his shoulder as they both scrolled through their phones. Chris caught himself sneaking glances at her every now and then, still not quite over how she could take anything of his and make it look amazing.

Then she sighed, looking up at him with that mischievous sparkle back in her eyes. “You know,” she said, biting back a smile, “if you’re that into my style, maybe next time you should try wearing something of mine.”

Chris’s eyebrows shot up, and he immediately started to protest, but she just laughed, already planning out what she could make him wear.

Get to know rapper!chris x singer!reader!!

SINGER!READER

Genre: pop, indie-pop

Similar artists: Madison Beer, Sabrina Carpenter, Billie Eillish

Albums and covers (coming soon)

Gained Fame: In 2021, Y/N started making music after her boyfriend cheated on her and their messy breakup, she put all of her feelings into songs and decided her new life started at that moment. She tested with sounds and one day she randomly posted them out of nowhere. Her confidence, however, skyrocketed when she only got maybe 1000 monthly listeners after about 3 months. She gave up and continued with life as if nothing happened.

In 2023, a beloved artist named Gracie Abrams, noticed her pathetic music and reached out. Y/N, much to her dismay, of course said yes when Gracie asked to do a collaboration with her. The song blew up on tik tok and other social media platforms and Y/N’s 6 songs soon started rising. Rooftops, a song about her ex, was #14 on the top 200 in the US. Gracie and her became good friends and Y/N got into song writing again.

Cute little headcanons:

Singer!y/n, who doesn't pay attention to rude or sexualising comments about her body but Chris does. When they're out in public and Chris hears someone say one thing about her, he’s practically on top of them and he’s not scared to beat the shit out of them.

Singer!y/n, who keeps a notebook full of random lyrics inspired by overheard conversations, half of which make absolutely no sense at all, but are oddly poetic

Singer!y/n, who insists on hand signing fan’s posters because it's more “personal” even if it takes hoursSinger!y/n, who will stop a concert mid way if she sees a sign or an outfit that she loves just to compliment that person.

Singer!y/n, who loves making up dumb tik tok dances to her songs just for funSinger!y/n, who’s fans are called the most ridiculous name. It started as a joke but now it's a part of her brand.

Singer!y/n, who takes a polaroid picture with her team before every show

Singer!y/n, who gets nervous before award shows, so Chris shows her his “pre game hype” which consists of terrible dancing and a not so helpful pep talk in a mirror

RAPPER!CHRIS (CHRI$)

Genre: hip hop, rap (obviously)

Similar artists: Playboi Carti, The Kid LaROI, Lil Skies

Albums and covers (coming soon)

Gained fame: Chris started his career more recently at the beginning of 2024. Because of the youtube channel, Chris didn't need to be famous for his music. About mid 2024, his music started to get recognized by more than just Sturniolo Triplets fans. Playboi Carti actually liked Chris’s music for what it was.

On Carti’s tik tok, he posted a video with one of Chris’s songs as the sound. Don't know how this made Chri$ more popular but his listens blew up hours later. 11 million monthly listeners quickly went to 30 in less than a month.

Cute little headcanons:

Chri$, who always kept his word, and has never done drugs, drank alcohol, or smoked a vape or cigarette in his life.

Chri$, who’s concerts are the most wild and fun thing ever. The energy in the sold out stadiums is exhilarating and the fans in the front row will probably not be able to hear anything else for days.

Chri$, who makes sure that you are always comfortable and happy no matter what you’re doing.

Chri$, who has your stuff scattered everywhere. He’s got hair ties on his wrist, your hairbrush in his car, and your clothes are all over the place.

Chri$, who once hung a pair of your panties on the rear view mirror in his car because the color “complimented” the vibe

Chri$, who never lets you pay for anything. This man will do everything and anything to make sure your card never sees daylight. Sometimes he steals your wallet before you even leave the car.

Fics to look forward to: (I obviously have not been busy)

Sleepytime - Chris asks Y/N to sing him to sleep one night

Model - Y/N’s manager needs to meet with her about upcoming tour outfits but Chris is not having it with her leaving

Noise Complaints - Late night studio sessions in Y/N’s apartment lead to awkward run ins with the neighbors

Pink Sweater Season - Chris borrows Y/N’s favorite oversized pink sweatshirt for a music video and the internet has questions.

Off Key Apologies - After a heated argument, Chris writes a very pathetic song as an apology but Y/N doesn't want to hear it

Mute - A mic on a live stream reveals way too much about how Chris feels about Y/N

Paper House - The power went out and the house is quiet so Chris and Y/N decide to build houses out of cards.

Stage Left - A surprise performance during Chris’ tour has the crowd cheering—and Y/N wondering where she stands with Chris

Signs - Chris finds an old playlist you made for him and realizes the feelings were there all along—he just missed the signs.

Second Verse - Chris struggles to finish a song about…love and how he hates to admit how much the second verse sounds like you.

REQUESTS!!

coffee | m.s.

Summary: A series of different situations where exbf!Matt and reader meet to catch up.

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, alcohol use, angst

Word Count: 661 words

My Master List

Join my tag list : @matthewsroses @lvrsturniolo @sturnzblog @nickgurl4life @emely9274 @sturniolozbae @ksturnz

Divider by: @anitalenia

A/N: Hello friends! I took quite the hiatus from writing. I've had lots of ideas flowing but no motivation to actually write them :( but I am going to try and push some out for the holidays. I hope this idea/concept makes sense. Please tell me if it doesn't and I can add an explanation!!

<3 Billie

"if I didn't love you, it would be fine"

Can't meet you for dinner at the Italian place...

The table held the awkward space between you as you recalled the last time you were both at this restaurant. You stared off at the booth in the corner. It felt like yesterday that you and Matt sat across from his parents, meeting them for the first time.

"How's your mom doing?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"She's good. She asks about you all the time. She misses you," Matt responded looking in your eyes. You felt a pang in your chest.

"I miss her too," you said with a slight frown. The relationship you had with MaryLou while you were dating Matt was so good. She was like a second mom to you. You pitied the many women who hated their mother in-laws because you absolutely adored her.

"Why don't you come home and say hi for a bit?" Matt offered.

a few hours later

Your legs were tangled up with Matt's as you rested your head on his bare chest. Both of you were breathless and trying to figure out how meeting up to 'talk' ended up with you in his bedroom at his parents' house.

I'd suggest the jazz bar on MaryAnn Street...

The soft saxophone music played in the background as you and Matt sat at a small table in the corner. "I want to apologize for how things ended between us," Matt sighed. You fiddled with your purse strap as you listened to him talk. "It wasn't fair to you to not think about how my career was going to impact you and us."

"I feel like you chose your career over me," you spoke softly.

Matt's face softened. "I know. I have my priorities straight now. Can I buy you a drink?"

One drink lead to another. Somehow Matt's face ended up between your thighs as you gripped onto your bedsheets. You missed him and definitely missed this.

If we have wine...

Matt's lips were flavored with merlot. Even though you preferred a riesling, you couldn't get enough. Your lips chased his as he backed you up against the bed. You weren't sure where your clothes had gone but you didn't really care. "I want you," he whispered. Matt left open mouthed kisses along your jaw as his hand slipped down your torso. You moaned softly. The night started casually. Matt stopped by to have a chat and catch up over a glass of wine. A few hours later, there were two empty wine bottles on the table.

You said let's do the park 'cause I love the park...

The park swing held your body in a hug as you caught up with Matt. It felt like it had been ages since you saw each other, but really, just a few months. It started off a bit awkward, but you warmed up slowly. Then, the rain began. It poured on you both as you laughed running to his car for shelter. Inside the car, the two of you talked for hours until darkness crept in. It didn't take long for your heated kisses to make the windows to steam up as Clairo played through the speakers.

I'll meet you for coffee...

The warmth of the mug increased the perspiration in your nervous hands as you sat across from your ex. "How are you?" he asked.

You nodded, "I'm doing good actually. How are you?"

He gave you a genuine smile, happy to know that you have been doing well. Matt felt a lot of guilt around your breakup and was hoping that you were doing okay. You both chatted about his career and your schooling. The world felt at peace and almost back to normal. Both of you relieved to have the friendship back.

But the feelings in your heart crept out of hiding each time Matt laughed or recalled a memory between the two of you.

So let's not do coffee, let's not even try.

Prove It - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: Chris doesn't think Y/N can handle him Warnings: sexual content, smut, p in v, backshots, unprotected sex (please just no), rough!dom!chris, making out Word count: 1.3k

Chris leans back against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips.

“You really think you can handle me, babygirl?” His voice is low, dripping with challenge, eyes dark as they rake over you.

Your heart pounds, but you refuse to back down. “I don’t think. I know.”

You crawl closer, hands settling on his thighs, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. “You’re the one who doesn’t know what to do with me.”

Chris lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh yeah? That’s cute.” He reaches up, fingers threading into your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His pupils are blown, his lips slightly parted. “So prove it.”

Your breath hitches, but you don’t hesitate. You shift closer, your fingers tracing along his jawline before sliding into his hair, tugging just enough to make him suck in a sharp breath.

Chris tilts his head into your touch, his smirk faltering for a split second before returning with even more intensity.

“You always talk big, ma. But I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into.” His voice is a murmur now, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You tilt your head, a smirk of your own forming. “That sounds like fear, Chris.” His brows raise, amusement flickering across his face. “Fear?”

He scoffs, pulling you even closer. “Nah, babygirl. I just don’t think you realize what happens when you play this game with me.”

“Then stop talking and show me.”

Chris watches you for a long second, his expression unreadable, before his smirk fades into something darker, something more serious. His fingers tighten in your hair, his free hand sliding down to grip your waist.

“Alright, ma,” he mutters, voice rough. “Just remember—you asked for this.”

His grip on your waist shifts, fingers pressing firmly as he guides you down onto the mattress beneath him. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the sheets as he hovers over you, eyes dark with intent. The air between you crackles with tension, his gaze locked onto yours, watching every tiny movement, every breath you take.

He likes seeing you flustered, loves knowing that no matter how confident you pretend to be, you still react to him.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” he teases, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You’re already looking a little nervous, babygirl.”

You swallow hard but refuse to back down. “You talk too much, Chris.”

His smirk returns, full of amusement, but there’s something else there too—something deeper, something hungry.

“Yeah? Then do something about it.”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of hesitating. Instead, you tug at the hem of his shirt, slipping it up over his head and tossing it aside before running your cold hands over his bare skin. His breath stutters slightly, and you catch the way his muscles twitch under your fingertips. He’s always in control, always the one teasing, but now he’s watching you like he doesn’t know what you’ll do next.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you tease, leaning in, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “Still think I can’t handle you?”

Chris exhales sharply, his hands gripping your hips. “You’re playing a dangerous game, ma.” His voice is rougher now, lower, his control slipping just a little.

“Good,” you whisper, lips brushing against his skin.

“Then stop holding back.”

Chris curses under his breath, his restraint snapping as he flips you onto your stomach, pinning you beneath him. He stares down at you, eyes burning with something intense, something all-consuming.

“Alright,” he breathes, leaning down so his lips are barely an inch from your ear. “Let’s see if you can handle me, baby.”

“Get on your knees for me.”

Your breath stutters at the command, a slow shiver rolling down your spine. You shift onto your hands and knees, the mattress dipping beneath you as you move. Chris hums in approval, his hands ghosting over the small of your back before trailing lower, squeezing just enough to make you arch into his touch.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rough, filled with something possessive. He takes his time, his fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt before slowly dragging it up over your body. The fabric pools around your shoulders before he tugs it off entirely, leaving you in nothing but the heat of his gaze.

Chris presses a kiss to your spine, slow and deliberate, his hands exploring every inch of newly exposed skin. He loves this, loves taking his time despite how desperate he is. His lips trail upward, following the curve of your back as his fingers work at the clasp of your bra, letting it slip away just as easily.

He groans softly, hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. “You won’t be able to handle this, ma.” His breath is warm against your skin, his voice thick.

You turn your head slightly, catching his dark gaze over your shoulder. “You really underestimate me.”

Chris doesn’t hesitate this time. His hands move lower, hooking into the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down inch by inch, making sure you feel every moment of it. He wants to savor this, wants you just as desperate as he is.

His own patience snaps as he rids himself of his clothes in a frenzy, the fabric tossed carelessly aside. He presses himself against you, the heat of his body overwhelming, his breath coming quicker. He grips your hips, his lips pressing against your shoulder before trailing up to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“You look so good like this,” he murmurs, voice low and wrecked. “All mine.”

His hands roam over you, mapping every inch of your skin, his touch burning, claiming. Every movement, every whisper against your skin, pulls you deeper into him, into the intensity of the moment. He tilts your chin to the side, pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss, fingers digging into your hips like he can’t bear to let go.

“You wanted to prove yourself, babygirl?” he rasps, dragging his lips over your jaw. “Then take me like a good girl and be completely silent.”

Chris takes his time sliding his boxers down, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he’s making sure you watch every second of it. He inches forward, slowly pushing himself in. Your forehead falls back against the pillows in front you, eyes fluttering shut. 

He begins moving his hips back and forth slow at first, until he sucks in a breath, his grip harsh as he begins slamming into you at a vigorous pace. Your eyes roll back, your jaw dropping at the incredible feeling. The headboard starts rocking into the wall, leaving loud bangs that Chris has no doubt his brothers hear. 

"Fucking take it." He groans between his teeth. Chris lifts his palm before landing a sharp smack on your ass, almost causing you to whimper. You bite your lip, trying your best to hold back your moans as his tip repeatedly hits your insides.

Chris picks up the pace again, pounding into you faster, silently hoping everyone would hear the sound of his skin slapping against your ass.

"Bet they can hear us, ma," he whispers, voice dripping with satisfaction. His grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you back to meet each thrust, the intensity making your fingers clench the sheets beneath you. The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoes through the room, shameless and unrelenting.

"Let 'em know who you belong to."You start to feel your orgasm build up, the knot in your stomach slowly tightening. Your walls tighten around Chris's dick as he moves in and out of your pussy, your moans getting harder and harder to hold back.You won't let him win.

"You still think you can take more?"

Chris growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrusts even deeper, testing your resolve.

"Because I'm not done with you yet."

Author's note: so ummm what do we think? I've never written smut before so this is probably ass but please let me know what you think and if I should write more

Back to...

About Me!!

☾✰Luna✰☽

Brunnette, green eyes, Italian and American and i only write about the sturniolo triplets

Music: Dominic Fike, Taylor Swift, Sabrina Carpenter, Arctic Monkeys, Tyler The Creator, The Neighborhood, TV Girl, Clairo

Youtubers: Sturniolo Triplets, Kallmekris, Tara Yummy, Sam and Colby, Jake and Johnnie, etc

Shows: Stranger Things, Bluey, Bridgerton, WandaVision

Movies: 10 Things I Hate About You, Scream, Clueless

Likes: Light blue, Dr Pepper, pasta, stars

Dislikes: Slow walkers, Baby Shark, idiot drivers, etc