natxms

[natxms]

snap.

natxtate: hi hello hey !!  natxtate: just letting you know i’m alive and well and vancouver is COLD AF  natxtate: on the plus note i landed my triple lutz and it’s only a matter of time i win this thing and come home with another medal + prize money !! 

[natxms]

[natxms]

a mood

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@knorrington @tristantylers

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[natxms]

Catching feelings is bullshit. I’m just eating french fries why i gotta think about kissing you? Fuck you

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“I don’t want to care. If I care about things, it’ll just be worse, it’ll just be another thing to worry about. It’s less painful if I don’t care.”

— Bret Easton Ellis, Less Than Zero (via thelovejournals)

[natxms]

“I don’t know what’s worse: to not know what you are and be happy, or to become what you’ve always wanted to be, and feel alone.”

— Daniel Keyes, Flowers for Algernon (via books-n-quotes)

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the problem is, sometimes you’re so scared of being hurt, you’re the one who runs.

r.i.d (via parkingsons)

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She doesn’t want to reveal jealousy or even interest, though she suddenly realizes that she feels both.

Margaret Atwood, Bodily Harm (via kailawrites)

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knorrington‌:

“what, are you gonna nibble on my ankles, lil mouse?” a smirk forms on kenny’s face as she tries to sound as threatening as possible. what was actually wrong with him? it was like no matter what she did anymore he was just immediately fond. what kenny was good at, and was pain-stakingly obvious at that moment, was that he was way better on solid ground, in shoes, on the field. the skates were always uncomfortable to him, always being too tight on the ankles, and not loose enough for proper function. how natalie ever dealt with them on a regular basis was beyond him. kenny’s walk to the ice was the most ungraceful he’s ever felt. a knowing look and accommodating smirk is given her way when she calls him small boy. “only my t-shirts though, nothing else,” he told her with a smile, his lips falling into a frown as soon as one foot hit the ice. the last time he’d ever stepped foot on ice like this was when he was sixteen and had no real good grasp on how to even use his legs. without her noticing he slipped just slightly, almost busting ass with one step onto the ice. the only person who witnessed it was him but it was just as embarrassing. “yep, fabulous,” but he spoke too soon, because as soon as he said he was good, he wasn’t. with a wobble of his feet, he grasps onto the wall to steady him, deciding maybe this wasn’t a great idea, “shit, ah, not that fabulous.”

“watch yourself.” the blonde warned, raising a finger along with her brow at the male. if anything, she was quite good with making threats and following through; that much she was sure he already knew due to the years of their close friendship. upon the rather suggestive look he offered her over her comment, all natalie could’ve really done was smile in return. it was always so calming for the blonde to be on the ice; that much was already clear by her sole expression. it almost felt like she was in her own little bubble there, and if it wasn’t for kenny she would’ve already zoned everything out by now. hearing his response, she turned around to look at him; which happened to be just at the right moment to witness him wobbling over to the nearest fence to steady himself. unable to really hold back her reaction, natalie burst  into laughter, moving a hand over her mouth as she watched him.  it took her a second ( or two ) to actually move and skate over to him; almost effortlessly coming to a halt right before him without the need to even touch the fence. “do you need help ? “ she asked, trying her best not to make her tone declare how much she was already enjoying this whole thing. but then, without really thinking it through considering she had done this countless times before, she took a hold of his hand. “c’mon, just follow me.” she declared, before reaching over to take his other hand from the fence before she slowly started to skate backwards. “ —just relax. you need to get a feel for the blade and shift your weight.” 

[natxms]

tristantylers‌:

“Maybe,” Tristan retorts, perhaps childishly. Even if he’s sure Kenny would be down for the idea if he ever brought it up. Though, Jess is becoming very aware of how much they’re ordering in lately, so there might be a little downer to that plan because he likes sucking up to her staying on her good side. “Really?” His face softens a little. “Thanks, Champ.” And he means it. He’s thankful he has family like Nat around. His dad’s a piece of shit but hey, at least there’s Nat, right? “I’ll probably be over then. With Kenny. We’ll like, bring a pie or something.” In true married couple fashion. He’s somewhat aware of how to make a pie, even if cookies were what his mom usually baked back when she was around. He’s pretty sure he can YouTube something if the details get pretty hazy. Or he can just buy a pre-made one. He doesn’t like the idea of turning up empty-handed to Nat’s house, especially after her offer. “Yelling at the TV with you sounds perfect,” Tristan says, smiling a little before his gaze drops the ground. He kind of wants to tell her. Why Kenny has been an even bigger part of his life lately. But he doesn’t want her to worry. Or get mad or anything on his behalf even if he’s got a pretty impressive amount of anger at the ready for his father himself. “Alright, let’s play.” Tristan sets up for the shot, angling his cue stick before he asks, “Solids or stripes?”

“you don’t have to thank me for inviting you over.” she was quick to add along, rolling her eyes a little. if anything, she didn’t think he ever needed one; he could’ve showed up on random at any time of the day and he would’ve been welcomed. it wasn’t like he hadn’t done that a few times already. at the mention of him and kenny bringing a pie, she shook her head; quite amused by the sole scenario. “i assume he’ll be wearing the skirt then ? “ she teased on purpose, even though she knew there was absolutely nothing feminine around the other boy. in fact, she could’ve vouched for it by now. it wouldn’t be a proper thanksgiving without enough food to feed the whole street and a football game in the tate’ household; and tristan was one of the people aware of that. which also explained a constant sea of jocks using her house as a hangout spot. even if she could oblige, seeing her father happy over the moon to just converse with the boys about football tactics was enough to silence her. “go with stripes,” she answered him then, her gaze falling onto the table as she watched him get ready to take his first shot.