Discover Top Posts Tagged with #im so soft

can a curious mutt come up to me and just start touching me just so they can see what i feel like? they can feel how nice and soft i am <3

#p4th3t1c posting #feel me up #im so soft #god just touch me

oh my, you're a masterpeice

#Im so soft #:3 pillow girl #me #mine #babygirl #needy bunny #nsft #i have no idea where i got those bruises but they are cute

Arya slips Catelyn a bundle of wildflowers, just cause.

𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑, melting into the amber hearthfire illuminating the embroidery frame. With meticulous care, the needle pierced through crimson silk, stitching the leaping trout of Riverrun beside the grey direwolf of her husband's house. So engrossed was Catelyn in this simple labour of love, that it was only as Arya crossed the chamber midway that she surfaced — her gaze rising to capture her daughter's approach ( a perilously nimble thing she was, to be certain, moving as quietly as a shadow ). Her hands were hidden behind her back, her face a blend of emotions Catelyn could not quite read. She arched a brow in gentle curiosity, or perhaps in tentative anticipation for what mischief Arya had conspired. How fiercely she loved this child; Arya was forged from the same stubborn cloth as Cat herself had worn in her girlhood — headstrong as a river in flood, refusing any hand that sought to steer her course, snarling at those who attempted a second time. And despite how oft her untamed spirit challenged her patience, Catelyn was deeply, ineffably proud of her youngest daughter.

Arya consumed what space remained betwixt them, drawing forth from behind her back a small, haphazard collection of wildflowers; delivered to her mother with the abrupt grace of one unused to such gestures. The tide of fondness was immediate and radiant; surging swift and ceaseless to her chest, filling every cavity of her heart until it felt as though the very place where sunlight itself was born.

❛ Wha—Arya, ❜ She said, stunned, overcome, cradling the flowers with the reverence one might bestow a holy relic. The embroidery hoop slid forgotten to her side as Cat, with a soft laugh rich with endearment, reached with one hand to draw Arya against the warmth of her chest. ❛ You have undone me, sweet child. Thank you. ❜ she murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of that unruly dark head. ❛ A most kind gesture, my love. Now, we must see to it they are placed in water, lest they wilt. I wish to savour this gift for as long as possible. ❜