+ curated shopping: rather than over-consume in fast fashion and trends, buy fewer, high-quality items. frequent vintage shops, boutiques, or markets where you can find unique, timeless pieces.
+ focus on wellness and exercise: consider activities that are beneficial for the body and calming for the mind, such as yoga, pilates, or long walks in nature. choose activities that allow you to connect with your surroundings and maintain balance.
+ mindful eating: prioritise healthy, whole foods and cooking meals from scratch. organic produce, artisanal products, and perhaps even locally sourced ingredients could be staples in your kitchen. eating is a mindful practice, enjoyed at a leisurely pace.
+ cultural engagement: regularly visit museums, art galleries, and theatres, or participate in cultural events that inspire and enrich their creative spirit. value learning and exposure to the arts as a way to keep life vibrant and intellectually stimulating.
+ reading and continuous learning: develop a well-curated collection of books, including classic literature, philosophy, and art, and dedicate time regularly to reading and reflecting on what you've learned.
+ minimalist technology approach: stay up-to-date with necessary technology, but maintain a minimalist approach to its use. limit screen time, avoid social media distractions, and instead prioritise face-to-face interactions or hands-on activities.
+ intentional socialising: carefully cultivate your social life, with a focus on deep, meaningful connections rather than frequent, casual interactions. you likely enjoy hosting intimate gatherings at home, where you can experience conversation, ambiance, and connection.
megumi’s pissed— pissed with a big, capital p. he’s bothered a lot; irritated and agitated with people daily, no stranger to fingers curling into a fist either at his sides or to the top of someone’s head. but right now, in the cold of your room, he’s pissed.
“take this shit off.” he won’t dare lift his hands himself because if megumi is a man of anything it’s principle. you laugh— louder than a giggle but nonetheless muffled by your pursed lips— and shake your head.
“no can do, nutmeg.” and now he’s really mad.
“don’t call me that.” he’s itching, his normally protruding hair flattened, his palms clammy, his breathing shallow.
“c’mon, why are you so miserable all the time?” it’s a slow drawl, a whine that he has to force himself to ignore. “can’t you show a little joy? maybe even some jubilance? or dare you say it might kill you?”
your name comes out stern, calculated and pointed in a way he knows will get to you, and simply, he repeats himself.
“take this shit off.”
megumi fushiguro is not a big believer of tradition. he has never obsessed over a birthday— although he did buy you a singular cupcake and candle on yours— or stressed at the thought of marriage. he’s not big on anniversaries and he couldn’t care less about a baby shower or bachelor party, so naturally holiday’s mean nothing to him.
you on the other hand are, in his own words, a nutcase. you’d met him two weeks before the christmas prior and insisted you get each other small trinkets. on valentine’s day you gave everyone you knew a card, on easter you mastered the art of making your very own chocolate, on halloween you bought a costume that he refused to wear.
and now, here you are again; snow on the ground outside and a small, and frankly sad, tree in your room symbolizing not only the biggest day of your year but an absolutely grueling year of knowing you.
you sit in front of him, criss cross, with a goofy little grin on your face. he can’t help but think it’s utterly disgusting that that’s doing something for him. regardless though, he stands his ground.
“if you don’t take this off right now i’m not talking to you for a week.” you laugh for real this time, shaking your head with more energy than before.
“well we both know that’s a lie. i’d probably drop dead if you did that and then, overwhelmed by guilt, you’d turn into an even weirder and sadder old man.”
“i’m not old. take this shit off.” atop his head sat a truthfully horrific santa hat. it couldn’t have cost more than two dollars, assortment of dim led lights on the trim. he can’t help but think of how many little, lice ridden kids must have tried this on. but he still won’t budge.
“you know you can just take it off yourself, right?” he does know that— obviously— but again, he has beliefs. he has pride. it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact you’re looking at him like he’s heaven on earth or the matching hat smothering your own hair. it has nothing to do with you at all.
he shifts, leaning his body weight onto his left side as he presses his hands into the plush of your bed to lift himself up. he makes a little show of it, slow and meticulous as he barely raises himself.
it would be so easy to avoid this situation. it would be so simple to shake his head or yank the hat off or have stopped you from putting it there to begin with.
megumi’s pissed, but it’s not with you.
“i’m serious. it’d actually be nice to have a moment of quiet in my brain.” megumi is furious, livid and squirming in his own skin. he’s absolutely, unequivocally angry.
he’s angry because he can’t figure out why for the dear life of him there’s a tightly wrapped gift tucked in the bottom of his bag, or why he knows the nearly exact color hex of your eyes, or why he’s hummed— hummed— the song ‘war is over’ twice this week.
you grumble, butt hurt and annoyed now too, and you reach over as fast as you can and snatch it off of him.
“there,” and now megumi’s even more upset because that upset him and his head feels cold and empty now. “happy now?”
and before he can think, before he can be as calculated as he always is, it slips.
“no.” and in that moment something shifts. it’s both of you, just a little bit towards each other, it’s the tension that’s now (and always has been) in the air, it’s the way your hat slips a little to the side.
“well i just can’t win with you, can i?” the— his— hat lays loose between your fingers, your voice quieter than he thinks he’s ever heard it.
megumi wonders time to time if he’s a coward. he knows he’s strong, he knows he’s just in his opinions, he knows he fights. but sometimes he freezes and sometimes he panics and sometimes he can’t look you in the eye.
maybe it’s time for him to be brave. he leans into you, closer to you, breathing you all in and, brushing your fingers in the process, he takes it back from you.
suddenly it’s warm again. suddenly you’re matching again. suddenly he feels close to you again.
“there.” for once, it feels like christmas to megumi. “happy now?” and it feels like he’s got a gift in front of him.
to moving forward
[🐟]: Sometimes I randomly think about Megumi's divine dogs and how adorable they are. Like... they've been with him since his childhood, protecting him and being his friend and all that.
And all the fanart and official art make them look so cute and goofy. I JUST CAN'T. Man, I love dogs too much. They're precious creatures. I wish I could pet all the dogs in the world.
Brb I'm gonna go annoy my dog for 10 minutes.
LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME THEY'RE NOT CUTE.
[ID: Two digital sketches. The left is a messy sketch of a tall person dancing with a child whose feet are on the adult's. They're both smiling widely. The right is Megumi glaring and pointing their finger at the viewer while saying "My dad could kill your dad in a fight and then adopt you and your sister when your mom never comes home" and is labeled "kid who doesn't quite understand the 'my dad can beat up your dad' game" /End ID]
I stopped my homework zen mode to draw this
when theyre so incredibly meant for each other any other ship with them is just wrong
What if things just turned out ok and Geto simply apologized sketches (cause we all make mistakes right)
You hide an injury from them
Including: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Yuuji, and Megumi.
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
Woah lost media