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fuck shiftok, fuck shiftblr and fuck everything except my own journey. NO ONE is going to tell me what works and what doesnt. LETS ALL REMEMBER THIS.

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YALL PLEASE HEAR ME OUT...

yeah i def got a type i got a thing for athletes 😁😁

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The Chore Thing but it's only Lynn Jr.'s sportcaster bits

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YALL PLEASE HEAR ME OUT...

yeah i def got a type i got a thing for athletes 😁😁

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LOOKIN’ OUT FOR YOU — hockeyplayer!chris

blurb; he helps you when your feet hurt after dance class. pure fluff!! mentions of blood.

your dance class had just ended, and you were in the dimly lit locker room with the other girls, the sound of muffled chatter and laughter filling the space. the faint scent of sweat lingered in the air. as always, chris would be coming to pick you up, but you still had a few minutes to yourself. you sat down on one of the cold, wooden benches, the surface hard against your legs, and placed your worn duffel bag next to you. with a sigh, you unzipped it and rummaged through until you found your spare shoes.

your feet ached, a dull throb that reminded you of every leap, every turn from the past hour. slowly, you slipped off your ballet flats, the tight fabric sticking slightly to your skin. as you pulled them off, you noticed the sharp sting before you saw it—blood. crimson streaks marked the tops of your toes, the raw skin beneath bright and painful to the touch. “shit,” you murmured under your breath, your voice barely a whisper in the quiet corner of the room.

one by one, the other girls left, their voices fading as they said their goodbyes, leaving the locker room quiet and still. the soft echo of the door closing behind them made the silence even more noticeable. you were alone now, sitting on the hard bench, staring at your injured feet. with a deep breath, you reached for your spare shoes, trying to slip them on, but the moment the fabric touched your raw skin, a sharp pain shot through you. you winced, biting your lip as you tried again, but the ache was unbearable.

"babe, are you here?" chris's voice echoed through the empty locker room, and you saw him walk in, his expression already full of worry. the moment he laid eyes on you, his concern deepened, and his gaze dropped to your feet. "oh fuck," he muttered, his brow furrowing. "hold on. i’ll get something, i don’t know, jus’—wait here." without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel, disappearing back through the door in a hurry.

when he returned, he had ice and a towel in his hands. he walked over to you quickly, then knelt down in front of you. he gently pressed the ice to one of your feet, and the cold sent a sharp jolt of pain through you, a soft whimper escaping your lips as your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders. "it's okay, relax," he said, his voice steady and calm. his eyes stayed focused on your feet as he carefully held the ice against them, wrapping them in the towel to ease the pain, his touch gentle.

"jesus, what did you do to end up like this?" chris's voice was low, filled with concern, as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. his brow was furrowed, the usual warmth in his eyes replaced with worry as he studied your face. you offered him a small smile, trying to ease his worry. "sometimes it happens, it's normal," you said quietly. he let out a slow breath, his hand lingering on your ankle for a moment before he returned his attention to your feet. the ice had begun to numb the pain, but you could still feel the sharp stings beneath. "this isn't normal angel," he muttered, his voice tight with frustration as he looked back down at your feet. his fingers twitched slightly and his jaw clenched. you watched him, seeing how much it affected him, but there was little you could say. this wasn’t new to you—the bruises, the blisters, the blood—but to him, it felt like too much.

after a while, he carefully removed the ice and towel, setting them down on the bench beside you. without saying a word, he reached for your spare shoes and ballet flats, placing them gently inside your duffel bag before zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder. "what are you doing?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

but instead of answering, he bent down and scooped you up in his arms, holding you like a princess. "taking ya home, angel.”

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start of fall with wanda <3

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How does anyone not believe in shifting? like THIS universe exists, why would there not be anymore? Theres infinite amount of universes for you and you are gonna sit here and be close minded thinking that theres only one?? do you not realize how stupid you sound thinking theres only one universe.

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fuck&fratboy! chris i hear you

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because i love you, i will write ONE fic of your choosing it can be anything (# getting out of my writers block for you)

— omg madi, check insta dms rn 😈

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hi lovey

IMY 😕😕

i miss YOUUUU so much

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they went to juvie guys ;))

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women stories matter

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so insanely fine n for what

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Reblog if it's okay to invade your ask box.

Always

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hey guys…😆😆😍😍😻😻✂️✂️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

my ellie obsession is coming back so i’m back on tumblr a lil bit

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yayyyy mutuals hiiiiiiiii reblog if you love your mutualssssssss hiii mutuals