If you support ICE my account is not a fucking safe place for you at fucking all. Being silent is being ignorant, now I come to this account here and there but that doesn’t mean that i’m not doing my part in speaking up about what’s been happening on other platforms.
We are all human and deserve to be treated as such, for all people including the triplets to not even say a fucking thing??? One of their main biggest fans have gotten tired of them being silent. It gets to a point to where it’s like—are you going to continue and scroll aimlessly on social media as millions are being killed or are you going to do what you can with the amount of resources you have?
Before anyone in this fandom who is ignorant, privileged, a kiss ass and just literally views what’s happening as just “another day” or “not a big deal” texts me or sends in anons—Chris will not fuck you if you’re silent, Matt will not kiss you if you ignore the crying and screams of people being taken away and murdered and Nick will not be your gay best friend as you scroll past families having to deal with the losses that this government has caused.
Fuck ICE and support Palestine because it’s the right thing to do and not bc it’s a trend.
It’s honestly disgusting and disappointing to see so many people be so privileged and ignorant about what is going on in this country and what will continue to happen if we do not speak out. Staying silent shows nothing but ignorance and stupidity, do better. FUCK ICE.
i’m sorry but all the videos I’ve seen of chris saying he wouldn’t snitch on matt or nick if they were cheating reminds me of the “baby that’s my brotherr, like I know dada and he would never do that” audio 😭😭
I cannot believe Charlie Kirk died. I do not support him, what he says, or his opinions, but no one deserves to get shot. Also the fact that he was shot when talking about gun violence ( although he doesn’t care about gun violence ) is crazy to me. If anyone saw the video, you can see how scary it was. ALSO there was a school shooting in my state as well today, which is very sad. Especially after all the gun violence protests that were happening just last Friday.
just heard about it too and i refuse to watch the video — i can’t stomach it. i agree with you that no one deserves to die, because that’s the truth. but i also think it’s incredibly important to be mindful with your words and empathetic to victims of gun violence in every sense. he has said in the past that “gun death is unfortunate but worth it,” and that framing alone shows a dangerous disconnect.
mass shootings are something this country struggles with every single day. children are killed in their classrooms, in public spaces, in places they should be safe. this isn’t just an “unfortunate part” of society — this is a crisis.
i feel like it's finally my turn to say something. i've kept this to myself for so long but seeing people still love rose, and now that she's finally gone i can't stay quiet anymore.
i was 15. the whole time i was so confused. she would constantly talk sexual with me, telling me about her fantasies and making comments i didn't even understand yet. she asked me to call with her, and on those calls she'd always bring up sexual stuff. i didn't know what to say. i just remember feeling weird, uncomfortable like i had to just sit there and go along with it even though i didn't want to.
eventually i blocked her. she blocked me back, and then i deactivated. since then tumblr hasn't felt safe for me. every time i see her name or people saying how much they love her it brings all of it back.
i think this is the last time i'll ever be on here. i don't even know why i'm writing this except that i just want to finally be heard. i've carried this for so long in silence and maybe it doesn't even matter anymore but it matters to me.
the worst part is i barely have any screenshots because i deactivated my account back then. that makes me scared no one will believe me. it scares me that most of this only exists in my memory and maybe only i will ever know what truly happened.
sometimes i feel like maybe i'm being dramatic. like maybe i overreacted or made it bigger than it was. but then i remember how sick it made me feel, how confused i was how i didn't even know what to say when she would start talking sexual with me. i was 15. that shoulve been enough for her to know it was wrong
i don't know. maybe i'll regret posting this maybe people won't believe me, but at least i finally said it out loud.
please i beg, interact with this any way i really want to feel heard it feels like im being dramatic but then I remember how much it still bothers me.
tags for awareness@cvnntagious @darksturnz @y3sterdaysproblem @passionfruitchris @nickssidewitch @humpster35
You were already trembling before he even touched you.
Not because you were scared of him—never him. If anything, you were trembling because it was him. Because no one had ever looked at you like this before. Like you were made of glass and starlight. Like he'd wait a thousand lifetimes just to see you feel good once.
His hand cupped your cheek, and his eyes searched yours. “Still want this?” he asked, low and careful.
You nodded, voice caught in your throat.
But Matt wasn’t letting you rush. He kissed your forehead, your nose, the corner of your mouth. “Say it, baby,” he murmured. “You don’t have to prove anything. I’ll hold you all night without doing a thing, you know that, right?”
“I want you,” you whispered, and your voice cracked with how much you meant it. “I want it to be you.”
He kissed you again, deeper this time—soft but certain—and let his weight settle gently over you. His hands never rushed. They explored like they had all the time in the world, which they did. He dragged his fingers down your ribs, memorizing the way your breath hitched. He worshiped the places that made you shiver, the little sounds you made, the way your thighs clenched when he whispered into your skin.
When he finally started to press into you, you gasped—tight, overwhelmed, already on the verge of tears. It hurt, just a little, but it was more pressure than pain. Still, your hand reached for his instinctively.
Matt caught it without hesitation, lacing his fingers with yours and holding them above your head, anchoring you.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your jaw. “I’ve got you. We’re not rushing anything. Just breathe.”
Your chest heaved with the effort, but you nodded—desperate, trusting, wanting him.
He went slow. So slow. Not even halfway in before he paused, kissing your cheek, whispering that you were doing so good, that you looked so beautiful, that he could cry with how much he loved you like this.
And when he bottomed out, and you finally felt all of him, your back arched, tears spilling quietly from the corners of your eyes—not from pain, but from fullness. From how much it was. The stretch, the intimacy, the weight of it all.
Matt kissed those tears away.
“Too much?” he asked, voice barely a whisper. “Want me to stop?”
“No,” you breathed. “Just… just hold me.”
And he did.
He stayed buried inside you, hand still gripping yours, body pressed against yours, and just held you. Let your body settle around him. Let you feel everything—the overwhelming fullness, the heat, the way your breath caught every time he whispered your name.
It was slow. It was steady. When he finally moved, it was just a slow grind of his hips, so deep and unhurried it sent goosebumps over your skin.
“You’re taking me so well, baby,” he whispered, lips at your ear. “So perfect. Can’t believe this is real.”
Your body responded without thinking—clenching around him, soft moans slipping out of you without permission.
And Matt noticed everything.
“That’s it,” he praised, voice thick. “Let go, baby. I’m here. I’m right here. You don’t have to do anything but feel me.”
Every stroke sent sparks through you. Not rough—never rough—but deep, slow, constant. You didn’t even realize you were crying again until he kissed the tear-tracks and said, “I know. I know it’s a lot. That’s okay. You’re safe.”
Your body started shaking, heat pooling low in your belly as the pressure built steadily, the kind of slow, dizzy pleasure that made your toes curl and your head spin. You whimpered his name like a prayer.
“Shh, that’s it, baby. Just like that. You’re so good for me,” he whispered, brushing his lips across your collarbone. “So tight, so sweet. You gonna come just from this? From how deep I am? Huh?”
You nodded desperately, your free hand digging into his back. “Please. I—Matt, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” he cooed, moving a little faster now, still controlled, still careful. “I’ve got you. Come for me. Let me feel it. Show me how good it feels.”
You came with a soft cry, body trembling, every nerve lit up as he coaxed you through it, still whispering the sweetest, filthiest things into your ear. Telling you how tight you were, how beautiful, how he’d never get enough of the way you wrapped around him like you were made for him.
And through it all, he never stopped holding your hand.
Even when he finally let go, chasing his own release with a shaky groan of your name, he held you through it. Kissed your temple. Praised you through every twitch, every sigh, every aftershock.
“You did so good, baby,” he whispered against your skin, letting your bodies melt together in the afterglow. “So good for me. I’ve never felt anything like that.”
You clung to him, overwhelmed but safe. Loved. Yours.
He pulled the blankets over you both, wrapped you up in his arms like he was afraid you’d disappear, and whispered, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” over and over until your breathing slowed and your world finally settled.
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