blue pout queen and her pink lioness

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Maldives

seen from Maldives
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
blue pout queen and her pink lioness
Thinking of you! My Love! My King! My Everything!😘
I’m totally normal about him
My chest....is not your scratching post, and my glasses...are not toys
-pets Doom-
Doom accepts pets and purrs loudly.
There is this limitless tenderness she approaches Margarethe with. It's annoying. It's more than annoying, actually, the way she cannot seem to be anything but gentle as a dove. It's what she is when she's leaning back, watching some inane television program, and then a hand sneaks very gradually-- touches the center of her palm first, questioning-- and then entwines fingers with her own to the tune of a slow, sneaky smile that spreads across her face. She doesn't even look, actually.
Margarethe’s gotten in the habit of having the television on, from the girls. Anastasia and Drisella like all those teen shows, the ones about – oh – handsome werewolves or something. Margarethe’s used to the sound of it now, and almost can’t concentrate without the noise. So she puts the TV on, just to have it going, with her eyes on the book in her lap, until she feels the slow, sly pressure of Alana’s hand. Her eyes flick up; she sees Alana’s profile, how innocently she keeps her gaze forward, and she lets Alana take her hand, their fingers folding together. She looks back down at her book, smiles, and turns the page, giving Alana’s hand a light squeeze. Soon she’ll have to break the contact, of course – the pleasure of it will transform into a kind of internal pressure, and she’ll only be able to release that pressure by ending the touch – but for now, it’s good. She can enjoy it, and her book, and the murmuring sound of the television beneath it all.
My cat is purring rather aggressively besides me, like he wants me to know that he is purring, by using his entire body to purr as loud as possible.
mads all bloody and beat up lookin