#softe.............

[markantonys]

lorenzo & francesco + smiling

[heirpins]

@girlseething — nonsexual acts of intimacy: cuddling in a blanket fort

she’s never experienced this before.

when she dives under blankets, it’s always to hide, to make herself as small as possible, praying she’s invisible just enough to avoid danger. when she clutches to a pillow, it is not as soft nor full as this; it is always thin, more folded sheets than actual pillow, and hard as a rock. she is unfamiliar with soft; she is a stranger to joy. she doesn’t understand why set up shelter when you’re already within your housing area.

the canopy is makeshift: bedsheets straightened over wooden chairs to make a cave. the dim glow of candles in their glass containers give a near-ethereal glow. she ignores the holes in the sheet and the wobbling of old furniture. instead kanao shifts just enough to smooth the wrinkled blankets beneath her, and in her hand, she holds onto a smaller pillow.

dorothea is before her, legs folded underneath her thighs, animatedly telling the next story of her opera career. it must be a funny one from the way her eyes light up, but kanao doesn’t follow the story well. she’s too preoccupied by the makeshift shelter surrounding them. 

the brunette gives her a glance when she doesn’t hear a word from kanao.

as if pressured by the gaze, kanao asks what blanket forts are for.

for fun, dorothea says smoothly as if the answer is obvious.

maybe dorothea can see the confusion lurking past kanao’s blank stare. but she doesn't press it. instead, she lies on the covered floor with a serene smile, tresses splayed around her like wings. she gently pats the space next to her. kanao hesitates for a second; after a second, she shifts her position to lie down next to her.

the arm that envelops kanao is --- warm. not suffocating, not painful, just comforting. it’s a foreign enough feeling that kanao squirms a bit, and dorothea raises her arm just a fraction, as if expecting kanao to worm her way out of the grasp. instead, she merely leans her forehead onto dorothea’s collarbone, held ever so gently by her warmth.

she doesn’t hug her back. she does not relax her stiff shoulders. but her eyes go half-lidded as she indulges - only a fraction - in dorothea’s familial embrace.

just for a moment.

[orpheusilver]

dysphoria: hehe büübs

me: (puts on my big soft yellow knitted sweater with the sleeves that go past my hands)

dysphoria:

dysphoria: it appears we are at an impasse

[upbeatpianist]

☄ Leaning your head on their shoulder while they talk. (sleeby)

     { ♫ } in the pursuit of trying to make friends with people outside of her class, kaede had decided that her first target would be one of her upperclassmen, touko fukawa. and as was the usual for the pianist, she had dragged touko to her research lab.

she had played a few songs for touko, who had sat down right next to her on the bench in front of her piano. and of course, every time she finished a song, she immediately began to infodump about it.

❝ i hope you liked that song, fukawa-senpai! that was piano sonata no. 12 in f major, and it’s one of my favorites! mozart composed that song in 1781 while visiting munich, and it’s a song about-- ❞

she was suddenly stopped in her tracks by the feeling of something leaning against her shoulder, and she looked down to see touko resting her head, her eyes already starting to shut.

❝ ...fukawa-senpai? ❞

kaede was tempted to try and jostle the girl awake, mostly because she was pretty sure a piano bench was not a comfortable place to sleep, but upon seeing how serene the girl looked as she gently drifted into unconsciousness, she couldn’t bring herself to disturb that.

with a soft smile, she just rested her head on top of touko’s.

❝ well, we can talk about it later, i guess. ❞