Lupita Nyong’o for People Magazine’s Most Beautiful

"I was a gymnast for eight years, starting when I was 4 years old,” Pink tells People, explaining where she got her body confidence. “So instead of thinking, ‘Am I skinny? What does my body look like?’ I grew up thinking, ‘Am I fast enough? How can I use my body?’ I’m a person who could always lose a couple here and there, but I would rather be strong than bony.”
Pink says that her two-year-old daughter Willow shares her mom’s penchant for shedding her clothes.
"She said to me the other day, ‘Mama, on Tuesday I think we should get naked and have a naked booby butt dance party.’ I was like, ‘I’m in.’”
Anonymous asked:

Any favorite Norwegian words?

word-stuck:

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forelsket (Norwegian)

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n. lit. ‘pre-love’; the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love

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Mild sexual love blog ♥
Anonymous asked:

will u tell me a story

officialunitedstates:

"You can’t just ride a bear," she said.  "It’s not built for transportation."

I looked at her cowardly face.  “That’s loser talk,” I said.

She was a bit offended but I didn’t care.  I was going to ride that grizzly bear and I was going to do it today.

"Give me the lasso out of the bag," I ordered.

"No… please, don’t do this."

"That’s loser talk," I said as I ripped the backpack out of her hands. 

The rope was thick and the lasso was heavy, but I had spent every waking hour of my life preparing for this day.  A heavy rope wasn’t going to stop me.

"What if it bites you?" she protested. 

But I wouldn’t listen.  This was my destiny; this was my fate.  I slowly approached the grizzly, rope in hand, my fingers ready to strike. 

I knew it could sense I was coming.  It turned, sniffed the air, and rose up on its hind legs.  He was towering, about a foot taller than me, and had thick brown fur shielding him from the cold.  I only had my $240 North Face jacket.

"Let’s go.  You and me.  It’s game time, you dumb bear," I taunted. 

He slowly turned to face me.  Our eyes met, and he had a twinkle in his eye that looked like a diamond.  It was kind of cute for a bear. 

I readied my lasso.  The time was right.  The wind was settled and the air was clear.  It was now or never. 

But I couldn’t do it.  It was something about the way he tilted his head and stared at me—a sort of innocence and fragility that I had scarcely seen before.  I just couldn’t bring myself to tame such a wild beast.

"I can’t do it…. I can’t fight you, bear," I shouted in tears.

"That’s loser talk," said the bear.


alightinq:

i painted the flowers to make them feel pretty. just like what girls do to their faces.
bring-me-back-to-wonderland:

♡
Thinking social anxiety is cute is like saying:

askingpreciado:

convertingtolight:

Excessive sweating is cute.
Dry mouth is cute.
Physically shaking is cute.
Blacking out is cute.
Nausea is cute.
Heart palpitations are cute.
Chest pain is cute.
Shallow breathing is cute.
Hot flushes are cute.
Forgetting how to talk is cute.
Humiliating yourself is cute.

It’s not adorable little shy giggly girls with pretty skirts & flowers in their hair.

please reblog this

(via iiwannabeweightless)


dugalf:

The struggle of making these is real when the only girls who place custom orders are D & DD+ plus whaaaaaa
dpicchiophotos:

I had my boyfriend who smokes use matches for a few days instead of a lighter and record the date and time and whatever he was thinking about while smoking. 
It’s funny that he quit smoking a few weeks after this project.