#ofcursedenergy

Melody nodded after a moment, head tilted to the side slightly as she studied them. Sometimes she thought she was the one behaving strangely, but other times she wasn’t so sure. This was one of those times, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she just nodded along, gaze shifting to the sky as well.

It was interesting, in her opinion, that with everything going on, sunrises and sunsets were still beautiful. The world kept moving, no matter what darkness plagued those that lived upon her.

- Olruggio to Qifrey

it's just a cup of tea and a gentle but stern shove that olly's giving him , dubbing it as taking care of qifrey because it is -- he's once again turned his back on sleep , ever the perfect role model for their girls of course , to work on magic . like teacher , like student it seems . it didn't come as a surprise when the dark haired man cleared his throat in the doorway of the living area he'd been claiming with his studies , quickly getting to work on making his longtime friend go to bed .

- Sukuna to Gojo

@ofcursedenergy

A witty one-liner is quick at the ready, but Gojo keeps it locked, his attention remaining focused on the storm raging outside. Bad weather's been in the forecast, and if it was that alone then he would pay no mind.

But this is more than a simple summer storm.

"Don't act like you don't sense it, too."

Gojo lifts one side of his blindfold. The wind roars alongside the thunder, thrashing around the down-pouring rain with such a violent velocity that it paints crosshatches against the lightning-illuminated world outside. It's almost deafening, even from where they take refuge, and through the visual over-stimulation, his Six Eyes seek something out.

Inside they stand, two behemoths of Jujutsu sorcery, but something out there takes shape, too; something powerful, dark. Even if Sukuna can't see it in the same way he can, Gojo's sure he feels something there. That something's off.

It's no doubt a special grade cursed spirit.

"I'm sure you'd be happy to let it wreak havoc." It could kill a lot of civilians, if they let it. Not that Gojo will, with his sense of obligation to take out such threats. And with it presumably being special grade, he's one of few that could, and would hardly break a sweat doing so. "But..."

A strange feeling churns in his gut, in his throat, at the thought that arrives in his head, the words waiting on his tongue. A suggestion that feels wrong to every part of him, not because of the suggestion itself, but who he's about to say it to.

Gojo lowers the blindfold back over his eye, and turns his head slightly towards the King of Curses, without taking his gaze off the storm, and what waits for them within it.

What started as a sidelong glance, ends up lingering for far longer. Kento's well aware he has no room to talk —exhaustion clings to his frame as well— but the words sprouted wings of their own accord. They sought refuge atop the slope of his once peer's shoulder, no doubt to offer a modicum of comfort.

It's only when he's called an underclassman does he look away. Not because he's bashful, per se, nor is he annoyed. It's merely a reflex he doesn't think too hard about, and for good reason. Otherwise, he would have missed what followed after. Lips thin ever so slightly, but he doesn't respond right away. Doesn't feel like the right time to reaffirm or deny who should be doing what.

SHE SURFACES from a haphazardly bundled bouquet of tissues. A swarm of supernovas explodes across her field of vision. Did someone poor concrete into her skull? After a cautious rub, Neela lowers this crumpled collection and reveals a thoroughly chapped nose. It shares the same irritated shade as her cheeks — a loud, febrile red. Satoru's words have to wade through the bog. Not only are the sounds themselves dampened by a head full of cold, but even when she hears them, it takes an embarrassingly long time for her to process. A soft clicking ticks away in the back of her throat — audible and hoarse hesitation. When she does make sense of his words, a husk of a whimper clips the air. A lacrimal glaze lacquers otherwise glassy eyes. If she can't care for anyone else, what use does she have? She wants to sob, to wail — her vocal cords cannot accommodate the demand.

- Suguru to Satoru

‘ yeah , yeah , whatever mr. voice of reason . it’s been so long since the last time i pulled a stunt like this , and i get smarter and stronger every day , so …. success is all but guaranteed . ’ he’s casually shrugging his friend off as he unwraps a sucker like it’s not the middle of the night and he’s not just woken suguru up for a ridiculous scheme .

‘ anyway , i have reason to believe yaga keeps a secret stash of candy in his office - and i already know what you’re thinking . why not just buy your own candy , satoru ? to which i say , doesn’t it sound like way more fun to break in and make it a treasure hunt ? exactly . ’

- Suguru to Satoru

Nonsexual Acts of Intimacy | Accepting | @ofcursedenergy

Satoru is sitting upright on one side of the bed, pillow positioned between his back and the headboard, as he works through a Kakuro puzzle book under the warm light of the lamp beside him. He glances up when Suguru, in pajamas just like himself, enters the room. He expects the other to join him in the space next to him, as he usually does, but he feels the mattress shifting differently, and he peeks around his book to see Suguru lying on his back, knees bent... and settling his head right on his lap.

Oh.

"Looks like someone wants attention."

Which Satoru is more than happy to give — this is their first time having a night like this together in a while — but he stays casual, typical Satoru about it, at least outwardly... at first. Tries to keep working on the puzzle in his hand as they talk, but he soon gives up on it and sets it aside. It's hard to focus on much else with Suguru's head in his lap and his voice sounding the way it does. Not that he really wants to focus on anything else right now.

They don't talk about much. Satoru and the mostly boring trip he took for a mission, only perking up for a second to reach for his phone, so he can show Suguru pictures of the food and drink he'd gotten at a Digimon pop-up café he happened to hear about. He asks about the martial arts classes, slowly twirling Suguru's bangs around his finger as the other fills him in on their students' progress.

Things have felt largely the same between them since New Year's Eve, but sometimes, in moments like this... things feel different. Or maybe Satoru's just noticing what's always been there, making it all seem bigger than before. How safe Suguru's voice feels, the warmth that blankets him when they're close like this. The way he instinctively starts to stroke his hair as their talking fades and comfortable quiet takes over, and the affection that swells in him at the sight of that soft smile, at those tired violet eyes blinking longer, growing heavy.

He really does have a handsome face, doesn't he?

Suguru eventually turns onto his side, his face is so close he can probably nuzzle or kiss Satoru's stomach if he wants, and one arm wraps around his waist, wedging between his back and the pillow. He'd think Suguru's actively trying to kill him with this, but he looks so close to sleep he doubts he fully realizes what he's doing.

Satoru's eyes fall onto that part of hair Suguru still has tied back. Reaching for it, his fingers slowly, gingerly, start to work the tie out, until it successfully comes free. The tie around his wrist, he silently resumes stroking Suguru's hair, combing through the long strands, taking in the feeling of it between his fingers. His softened gaze never once leaves his face. This feels comfortable, natural... this feels right.

He's not sure he can handle the feeling in his chest.

"Suguru?" His own voice comes out so much softer than he intends it to. There's no response, just slow breaths and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Satoru huffs. "Figures."

@ofcursedenergy

Sakura widens his heterochromia eyes to see the cake prepared by the one who is known as Tiger of West Junior High. "You...." It came as a shock to him that someone had a cake for him.

Sakura's face becomes like a scarlet, blushing pink as he begins to shake. He shut his eyes tightly. What's more......it's the kind of the cake he wanted to try. One that he never get to have until now.

Half-chocolate and half-vanilla with cherries on top. He opens his eyes then says,

"You..." He can't help, fidgeting a little, "T-thank you, Itadori....Yuji." He said then he lowers his head before a smile appears at his lips, before looking up at Itadori before taking the card. He holds it between his hands like it's the best gift ever. He will keep it with him as a remembrance.