Latest Posts by pixiekitten-blog1 - Page 7
Buzz buzz
Buzzing Honeycomb Necklaces by Kloica Accessories
Soo cute
Cat loves the smell of rice.
Ohh baby, I'm in love with you and I'm missin the sound of your heart beating
Dramatically Backlit Dust Lanes NGC 7049
js
me: *sees stuffed animal laying in an awkward position*
me:.,.. ok.,.. that can't be comfy
me: *quickly adjusts it into a better, healthier position*
Why is no one disgusted by pet names other than Daddy? Nobody is saying someone who calls their partner Kitten wants to fuck a cat. I have a friend who calls his man “Bear,” but I very much doubt he would solicit an actual bear for intercourse. “Baby” represents sweetness and innocence, “Bunny” is about cuteness. And “Daddy” is about feeling protected. It’s not that literal, please relax.
Man, sometimes I feel like Mercury doesn’t get to be sassy enough.
Loubna Meron
My baby♡♡
This is a perfect description
Everyday
Citric Journal for January 2nd Too much coffee
Good girl.
(Via: Submissable)
someone: i love you
me internally: prove it prove it prove it prove it prove it prove it
also me internally: please dont love me i dont want to hurt you this is terrifying please dont love me
yet also me internally: good, everyone should love me. get on your fucking knees and worship the fucking ground i walk on.
somehow also me internally: THEY LOVE ME THEY LOVE ME THEY LOVE ME THEY LOVE ME THEY LOVE ME THEY LOVE ME THEY LOVE ME!!!!!
me externally: aww i love you too!!
don’t become who hurt you
~j (via bubbly)
They say the trees sing…—photo by Jerod Foster @jerodfoster.
An afternoon poetry snack from Salt is for Curing by @sonyavatomsky. Because I’m so thoroughly enjoying this wonderful little book, in effort to encourage others to pick up a copy for themselves, I thought I’d share a portion of my initial reaction to it that I originally sent to @ghoulnextdoor, who recommended herself it late last year:
‘Each time I open the book to whatever page cares to reveal itself, it’s like standing in a quiet, shadowy space and taking a bite of something dark and rich with such complex flavor - raw in some places, scorched in others, sweet, salty, bitter, the blood-tang of copper, acidic soil, earthy and rotten, yet full of enduring and defiant life - there’s so much here and it’s composed in a way that feels so new to me. So I don’t want to rush through it; I feel physically incapable of doing so. I want to savor each poem, let it roll around on my tongue, down my throat and into my stomach, heart, and head.’