#or the mind of several different people. So long as they have a sustainer if you will then they'll always be able to exist

[inkstainedarchivistmagpie]

You know, playing through Penacony after playing through both Persona 5 and Who's Lila practically back to back is an incredibly surreal experience and makes everything hit you as hard as we hit Sunday with the Astral Express.

[joycrispy]

One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

[aloesarchives]

Domestic Headcanons W/ Toji, Megumi, Tsumiki, and Mama!Reader

TW/Warnings: Profanity, Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Pregnancy, Mention of Sperm but not sexual, unhinged crack, too long(LMK if anything else needs to be tagged)

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her (Usage of Mama, Wife, Mom, Mother)

Word Count: 10k words

This headcanon is paired with this one right here. This can be stand alone for general/modern au. But this one mostly revolves around my Toji Lives AU.

Also, I'll be posting either my Toji/Megumi/Reader mini series or Suguru/Satoru/Reader series this week. Here's the form if you wanted to be tagged in my works. Please let me know if something's up with it.

[!!Edited and Proofread! 3/27/2024 11:48 pm CST!!]

The married life with Toji isn’t any different from prior to marriage. You two live in a fairly spacious apartment for Tokyo Standards and well furnished on top of that. 

The basic routine of you and Toji as followed: Toji wakes up and gets ready in 10 minutes, gets the coffee going or anything you drink/eat for breakfast, you wake and get ready for work, you and Toji eat breakfast together for a bit, Toji gives you your work bag and lunch, gives you a kiss and sends you out the door on time, cleans the dishes and table once you leave, looks to see if there’s anything you’re low on or out of and makes a list for it, Toji does some house chores before leaving to go run errands, goes to run said errands and buy some groceries, comes home starts meal prepping, you come home as soon as he’s finished cooking, both of you eat together, then chilling on the couch together after cleaning up, Toji forces you to go to bed, does your nightly care routine with you while brushing your teeth, then pulls you into bed where both of you are knocked out instantly.

House Husband Toji and Working Wife (Y/N) dynamic, I don’t make the damn rules. Well it makes sense as you have a sustainable and consistent job that pays comfortably for minimal work. Honestly, Toji doesn’t mind it at all but you both established your roles in the relationship but help out whenever possible. In fact, he loves being a stay-at-home husband. He gets to do his hobbies and chores without distraction, having a piece of mind, cooking food with you, etc. Highkey loves being domesticated.

While yes, he does get an occasional high paying job/bounty from Shui, they happen a couple times a month. But even then it’s few and far in between. You don’t mind working, your job pays you enough to not take any overtime and you never work the weekends. Plus you get a raise and bonus once in a while so you’re not scrambling to find a second job. Also, it’s worth it since Toji takes care of your shared apartment and you. 

Both of you are financially stable to the point of comfort. Like only paying utilities because you and Toji own the apartment. Not having to worry about buying food or paying on time. Not taking up extra hours or shifts to just live. It’s a comfortable and stress-free environment you and Toji have created for yourselves.

Doesn’t understand the fuss about men not being stay at home material and it’s a woman’s job. He just thinks those guys can’t take care of themselves and will force someone to baby them under the guise of tRadItIonAlIsm or some bullshit. He understands if both have their jobs and work to split the house chores. It’s not a luxury everyone has and he knows he’s in the small percentage of people who get to stay home while their spouse works. If it works in the relationship, it works, Toji says. It might not work for some people but you working and Toji staying home works for your relationship. If not, it has made it healthy because there aren’t severe or frustrating arguments about house chores, errand runs, cooking, maintenance, home management. 

You do anything in order to help out Toji because that’s your home too. Therefore, your living space you share and it’s your responsibility to at least take care of it. After work, you text Toji if there is anything you need to pick up or do for him while you’re out. 75% of the time he says there’s nothing you have to do, but the 25% is Toji asking you to pick up the dry cleaners, some food items he forgot to get while out, check if there’s a sale going on, or buying detergent and stain remover. Also text with a:

‘Doll, can you actually grab a few things from the supermarket? I’ll send the list to you.’

‘Hon, would you be able to pick up my jacket from the dry cleaners? Thank you’

When you say yes or of course, he’s hitting you with the:

‘Thank you, Sweet Girl. I appreciate all you do.’

‘Stay safe, (Y/N). Call me if anything happens. Love you, Baby’

Talks about buying a house and having a family happen a lot more frequently since the two of you got married. You always wanted to have a family of your own but wanted to wait for a good man to be a good father because you can choose a husband but your children can’t choose their father. But you knew Toji would step up when it happened. Toji didn’t think too far into his future but he knows he wants to have a family with you and grow old together. You changed his mind that he was okay with having a family and doing all that it takes to be a loving father and husband. As if he doesn’t do that already. 

That and you two talked about how your genetics would make the most beautiful and good looking babies. Toji would say he wants your kids to have your smile and personality while you told him you want them to have his eyes and nose. This is one of those late night talks you have with him that you absolutely love. 

You have an ungodly amount of money saved up to pay the house off in full or less than two years. You decided on one where it was a mix of modern and traditional. It was within walking distance of multiple subway and train stations while not being near the busy parts of the city. It’s in a more quiet suburb with good schools and nature. It’s a big home with the exterior of a traditional home but the interior is a little more modern. The main building is two stories and is the actual house, the building connecting to it is for guests, training/workout room/and a meeting room. The walls that surround the property are tall and sturdy. It looks like a mansion but feels more homey as you two start to make it your own.

So when you tell Toji you’re ready to have a baby, the man goes all in. Trying to watch your cycle and listens to the doctor in increasing his chances of getting you pregnant. Man looks up recipes that increase your fertility rate and balance out your hormones. Thinks about checking his sperm count but you declined saying Toji hasn’t done anything to decrease his numbers.

He definitely got good aim because it didn’t take long to get pregnant. After like 2-3 months of trying, it happened. You missed your period by a week and you decided to get a pregnancy test. You got the double lines and were excited to show Toji. He went to drop off your jacket to get it fixed and came home to find you sitting at the table with a napkin. You tell him to sit and he complies with a bit of concern. You gesture to the napkin and he picks up to see the positive text in front of him. He asks are you for real and you just nod. He pulls you into his laps and holds you while saying thank you and I’m going to be a dad.

Becomes protective of you instantly. Having morning sickness? He gets you a towel and some medicine. Sensitive to certain foods or smells? He will change them to your liking. Need him to do something for you? He’s already a flight of stairs ahead of you. He doesn’t want to stress you and the baby out so he’s doing everything. 

As trimesters progress, the more protective and conscious he comes. Once you start showing, say goodbye to carrying items, doing some household chores, running errands, or fucking walking because this man will NOT let you do them. Is at your beck and call for anything and will become scary if people give you a hard time or look at you funny. Toji told you if your boss gives you a hard time, call him and he’ll talk to your boss with no fear or hesitation whatsoever. Once almost killed a man because he accidentally bumped into you. Toji had this look of death in his eyes as he grabbed the guy by the collar and forced him to apologize to you. Make sure the guy actually apologizes too. Walking? Who is she? You are only walking a couple of feet before he says ‘nah’ and picks you up to carry you. You tell him you can walk but it falls on deaf ears. Then you get concerned about being heavy for Toji. The man has never been more offended in his life. He looks at you, dead in the eyes, and says: “What kind of husband am I for not being able to comfortably carry my beautiful and pretty pregnant wife? If I can’t carry you, I need you to kill me, (Y/N).” You just get used to him carrying you around.

Always find a seat for you on a bus or the train. Will scare a guy who isn’t tired from work to give you the seat. Always hold your hand during the rides.

Talk to your bump every night. Hands on your stomach, face unbearably close to it, kneels on the floor or lies in bed to talk to it as you run your fingers through his hair. He’ll say some things that make you laugh but he mostly say sweet and warm things to your baby as he just wants to love and protect them. Definitely says:

“You know your mama is the prettiest and most beautiful woman out there? You’re so lucky to have her because you will be unconditionally loved and cared for. How do I know this? Because your mama loves me too, Kiddo.”

“Hey, be nice to mama. She’s not having the best time so I need you to go easy on her. Please, little one.”

“Hi, this is your old man speaking to you. I don’t care whether you’re a boy or girl. I will always love you no matter what. I wanna meet you soon.”

Does the thing where he lifts up your bumps to alleviate some of the weight for a bit and smiles when you relax into him.

When he touches your bump and feels a kick, he is so happy that his head is glued to your bump so he can feel it. 

Buys your cravings whenever and whatever it is. It could be late at night and you’re asking him to get you your egregious food combo. He doesn’t understand your cravings but will not complain to you until it’s a straight up abomination. THEN, he just cooks you anything you want because he’s lowkey scared about your cravings affecting your health.

Daily/Hourly reminders of how beautiful and gorgeous you are. Body worshiping and praising, especially since you are carrying his child. The amount of reassurance and sincerity that comes from his words makes you cry a lot, and it’s not because of your hormones. He’s so sweet and loving with his words towards you, it makes you fall in love with him all over again.

Goes to every appointment with you and never fucking misses one. Actually, he is the one to remind you about them. Has this soft look in his eyes as he looks at the ultrasound seeing your baby. Asks for at least two copies so he can frame one of them and hang it somewhere in the house.

Doesn’t care if it’s a boy or girl, as long it’s half of you that’s all that matters.

You always tell him your love and appreciation for all that he has done for you and the baby since he has a tendency to push himself a lot more than he has to. A kiss and a hug will do the trick because he goes all soft for you every time. It’s amusing to you how your huge, seemingly intimidating, husband can become a warm melted putty at the snap of your fingers. But then again, you have him wrapped around your finger completely.

Grows more cautious and protected once you go on maternity leave in your final months of the final trimester. Constantly asking how you are feeling that day or hour, grabs everything within arms reach if there is anything you need or could get you, if you need help with everything in general. It’s not the point of overbearing or suffocating, it gets a bit annoying but you know Toji means well. You assume he’s concerned and worried for you and the baby because he is afraid you will have complications during the birth. It’s terrifying to him to know there’s a slight chance you could die while giving birth to your baby and he couldn’t do anything to help you.

So when you DO go into labor, man’s is a bit scared but also prepared with your bag ready in hand. Drives you to the hospital, checks you in, and makes you feel comfortable while giving birth.

Is holding your hand during the whole thing while wiping away the sweat off your forehead and face.

Says encouraging and calming words to keep you focused and at ease. Guides you through deep breaths and keeps you grounded:

“Take a deep breath for me, Honey.”

“You’re doing so good, Mama. So amazing.”

“I’m here with you, Sweet Girl. Keep squeezing my hand. Trust me, it doesn’t hurt. Hold onto me, (Y/N).”

Sheds a few tears when your daughter comes out and starts crying. Kisses your cheek and forehead while praising you for doing a phenomenal job.

Cuts the cord while you’re coming down from your intense birthing process.

Lets you sleep and relax while he cuddles and holds your daughter with his shirt off for skinship.

Once you wake up, he buys you any food you want since you’re not pregnant anymore. Spoon feeds you while saying you did a wonderful job and asking how you feel.

Once you hold your daughter, he’s over the moon. You look so perfect and ethereal the man thanks the gods for blessing him with you as his wife and your daughter, the proof of your love.

Lets you name her since she is a girl and the first-born. You name her Tsumiki because it’s a cute name for a pretty girl. She gets most of her traits from you besides her hair texture. Toji comments that a pretty girl deserves a pretty name because she was birthed by an elegant and demure woman. You chuckle at him and his sappiness but it brings you a certain type of happiness that Toji was expressing this side of himself more comfortably.

Once discharged, gets the car to bring you and your daughter to your new home where she’ll and her sibling(s) grow up.

Lets you have your bonding time with Tsumiki while you’re on your six months maternity leave. He lives to see you hold and carry your daughter around the house.

Takes care of everything in the house and helps you out during your postpartum. Reminds you of your beauty, that he still loves you and your body, how grateful he is for everything you’ve done for giving him this life.

Gets the hang of parenting faster than you did. Toji already knows how to burp, change, feed, and bathe your daughter.

Lets you sleep and rest more when Tsumiki cries at night by getting up to calm her down himself. Ends up sleeping in the rocking chair with her on his chest.

Tries to play and entertain her as much as he can. Toji is more of a stuffed animal guy than dolls because they’re more inclusive and genderless. But he will buy dolls for Tsumiki when she asks for them once she's old enough.

Tears up when she takes her first steps as she tries to walk towards both of you.

Her first words were Papa for sure but then Mama two weeks later. 

Tsumiki is a fairly calm and happy baby. Moves around but isn’t super hyper and energetic. Very smiley and giggly baby that brights up the room she’s in. Always puts you and Toji in a good mood.

Toji is the type of guy to wait for you to give him the green light for another child. Even though the doctor says you’ve made a good recovery, he ain’t pouncing on you until you tell him so. Your doctor asked if she needed to write a note that you weren’t ready for another baby for some time but you told her you’ll be fine because Toji isn’t THAT TYPE OF GUY. On top of respecting you and your body, Toji highkey wants to have age gaps with your children. Like at least a year and a half or so they can be close in age and grow up together, but also give time for you and him to adjust to being first-time parents.

It was after Tsumiki’s first birthday that you said you wouldn’t mind having another kid. Then Toji and you tried for another kid. Happened fast per usual with minimal effort once again. Toji’s goo is pretty strong lol.

He was there with you when you took the pregnancy test and it had the fable two lines. Hugs you close and is excited to give Tsumiki another sibling.

Unfortunately, your second pregnancy wasn’t as forgiving as your first. In fact, your second child was pretty brutal on you. You were more sensitive to everything and your symptoms multiplied by three. It was a struggle but you managed to pull through but barely.

Hurts Toji a lot because you’re in a lot of discomfort compared to being pregnant with Tsumiki. Steps up tenfold to help out and make things better for you. 

Tsumiki just plays on the floor in her pen as you watch her while dealing with her younger sibling and Toji's making food in the background.

When you both found out it was a boy after a couple of months, you told Toji he can name the baby this time since you did with your first-born. It threw you off a bit when he said Megumi, a name that means blessing. You talked about names before but this was a new one both of you haven’t brought up yet. Perhaps it was a name Toji wanted but forgot to mention

Man, Megumi was a hard pregnancy. He was an energetic one in your womb. Always makes you lose sleep, loss of appetite, or straight up moody. Toji always talked to Megumi, lowkey begging him to be more gentle on you and not be so rough.

Once Megumi was born, you knew that’s Toji kid because he barely took anything from you. The nose, the eyes, the hair, even his small pout, it was all Toji. Toji was crying once again that your son is born but he takes after his old man. Tsumiki was just happy to see the little baby that is her younger brother.

After Megumi, you and Toji decide that this is ENOUGH children for now. Especially since you have two children under the age of three.

Megumi, however, was an interesting baby. Tsumiki likes being held by both you and Toji, she never picked favorites. Megumi, on the other hand, was attached to you like glue. Technically, all babies are but Megumi never liked being away from you. Megumi was very clingy when it came to you, his mama. You have to hold him or be in his line of sight if you’re not.

Megumi is a certified mama’s boy. He’s all sweet to you, with his gummy smile and bright big eyes as he laughs when you hold.

His first and only words were Mama for a while until he said Papa.

Megumi becomes fussy and cranky if you’re not in the room. He wants you there when he wakes up, to feed him, change him, bathe him, everything. If Toji has to do it, it will take double the time because Megumi is all uncooperative and resistant to his father’s attempts to care for him. It helps if you’re in the room or nearby then Megumi will behave but if that's because he knows you’re there.

Baby Megumi glares at Toji over your shoulder when you’re making his and Tsumiki’s food. Toji glares at his son's back. As he gets older and can walk, Megumi always runs towards you. Place himself on the couch, floor, chair, any surface he can sit on so he is seated next to you. One time, Toji’s head was in your lap as you watched the news in front of you. Megumi was mad because he was supposed to sit next to you. But Toji was faster than him and sat himself where he’s currently positioned. Tsumiki was in front of the couch playing with her stuffed animals on the floor. Megumi decided to grab his doggy plushie and started hitting Toji’s face with it. Toji yelped while you grabbed Megumi and placed him in your lap. Megumi holds onto you while you and your husband exchange shocked looks.

Megumi purposefully and accidentally cock blocks Toji. It’s explained more in this headcanon here.

It’s exhausting to take care of Megumi because he always wants you and never Toji. It kind of sucks because you want Megumi to bond with Toji more as you also don’t want to neglect Tsumiki as well.

Both of you take turns caring for your two kids. It’s so cute to see Megumi bonding with Toji as Megumi smiles a bit more when he’s with his dad. Tsumiki just likes hugging you and so you hold her ever so dearly.

Tsumiki and Megumi never really fight, which you find odd since it’s common for siblings to fight with each other. That’s when you keep observing and notice Tsumiki will let Megumi have his way even though she didn’t have to. Though you appreciate her being an older sibling, you have to remind her she can say no to Megumi if she doesn’t want to. Also reminding her to tell you or Toji if anything happens and not feel scared or ashamed for asking for help. 

But Tsumiki is such a sweet child, she says she doesn’t mind at all when it comes to Megumi. But you brought it up to Toji because you don’t want Megumi to become very spoiled nor do you want Tsumiki to feel it’s okay to disregard her needs. Toji understands your concerns and tries to reassure you that he won’t let that happen as they get older. 

While you were away from work, Megumi snatched Tsumiki’s pillow pet dolphin from her hands and Toji saw all of it. Toji put Megumi in time-out while he comforted Tsumiki. She wasn’t crying but he could tell she would have if he didn’t step in. Toji refrains from yelling and acting out because you told him that’ll strain his relationship with the kids. It’s easier and effective but it has long-term effects that negatively affect the parent-child relationship and the child themselves, something you knew all too well. So Toji is patient with Megumi, telling him it’s not nice to take things that aren’t his, especially when it’s his older sister’s stuff. That he should understand that Tsumiki doesn’t like it when he does and only lets him have them so he wouldn’t get upset. Toji makes Megumi apologize to Tsumiki but Tsumiki already forgave Megumi. 

Toji being patient with his kids is hard and always tests him as a parent. Then he remembers how you told him having a family with him isn’t going to be the easiest thing in the world. But children deserve parents who will love and care for them unconditionally, who will be patient and understanding no matter what, to not make them wish they were someone else in order to please their parents. You didn’t want your children to experience what you did growing up and you believe Toji is someone who will help you make that dream come true. So he continues with his gentle/patient parenting method because he knows it will pay off in the end.

Since you’re going to work most of the day, he’s always the one to take care of them. Toji always takes them to the park or outside so they can run around and be kids. Forces them to go with him to run errands so they can get used to it. Megumi hates this while Tsumiki loves it. After some time, they get used to it and ask Toji to take them on the errand runs. Like going to the local butcher for meat then to the supermarket for everything else. Toji makes this a learning experience for the two by teaching them how to pick and order what they want. He teaches them what each ingredient is and explains why he buys it. Because of this, Megumi and Tsumiki know how to do errands by themselves and get things on the way home from school if Toji texts them to get something. 

Megumi doesn’t admit it but he always follows Tsumiki’s lead. Especially when they start going to the same school together. When Tsumiki gets a fever/cold and can’t go to school, Megumi is a little nervous because he’s going by himself. So Toji had to comfort Megumi that he will be okay and Tsumiki will be proud of him for being able to go by himself.

Tsumiki is a quiet extrovert but Megumi is a raging introvert. Megumi, due to his aloof nature, doesn’t have many friends. You became worried because maybe there was something you weren’t noticing with Megumi. So you went to get Megumi checked out and the doctor ruled it out due to his personality and high intelligence. The doctor says it’s common for some children to prefer their own personal space rather than making friends. Though it does encourage you to have Megumi expose himself to kids around his age so he’s not socially distant.

This is where you and Toji butted heads for a bit. You don’t want to force Megumi into something that he doesn’t want. But Toji wants Megumi to interact with other kids that’s not Tsumiki so he can make friends. Megumi just doesn’t like people who are not his family. That’s the conclusion you both draw in the end.

Jungle gym Toji. Ever since they could crawl, Megumi and Tsumiki have been climbing on Toji like a rock wall. They hang off his arms, hold onto neck, climb onto his back, they’re all over him. Well, Toji is built like a mountain so it feels like they’re climbing Mt. Fuji. Toji isn’t bothered by this at all. In fact, he likes it when his kids are playing with him.

When Toji works out, whether it’s outside in the courtyard or in the workout room, he has the kids nearby playing somewhere. Would definitely ask Megumi and Tsumiki to sit on his back while he does push ups. 

Hides his old weapons in the shed outside the house, he makes the excuse it’s for gardening tools and snow shovels so the kids aren’t curious.

Doesn’t do baby/kiddie talk to his kids. Obviously he’s gentle when he speaks to his kids but he also isn’t going to dumb things down for them. He’ll speak to them like a regular person but has a soft tenderness for children. It’s actually pretty sweet to see it.

The type of man to say to his children, “Isn’t Mama pretty? She is pretty, right?” Saying positive things about you to Megumi and Tsumiki. Then the two will say those lovely words back. You do this with Toji too. Telling the kids “Papa’s strong, right? He’s so cool.” “Papa made us this lovely dinner. Isn’t Papa amazing, you two?” Shit it so cute, I swear.

Speaking of food, Toji makes their lunches. From preschool to high school, he makes Megumi and Tsumiki’s lunches. It’s a challenge as they get older because both have different food preferences but he takes up on it. Just like with your lunch, everyone is in awe and jealous of their food. It’s always something good every time and it always smells good. Yuuji and Nobara ask Megumi if his dad could make them one and the next day Megumi brings two extra bentos for the both of them. Courtesy from Toji himself.

The type of man to make the kids their character bentos and eat the scraps/leftovers. Like the picture where the kid has a cute breakfast while the parent eats the cut out bread and fruit left over.

Family nap time! This is quite common in the Fushiguro household. You come home from work, sometimes earlier than scheduled, to see them laid out on the floor with a blanket underneath them. Sometimes, if the weather is enjoyable, they would nap outside. Toji is holding both kids in his burly arms while Tsumiki and Megumi hold each other’s hands.  It’s so adorable that you have multiple pictures saved in an album in the house. You would join them as well. A family napping pile.

Speaking of which, you have many albums from over the years as a family. Up until the present day, you have so many pictures of your children and your husband having their little family moments. Some wholesome, some embarrassing, others are cool photos or stolen shots. I don’t know if this fits Toji but I’m projecting here: he’ll have photos of your family throughout the years on the walls and tables of your home. But mainly, the ones he loves the most are the portraits of the family. They’re five of them. The first one is of you and Toji, the second one is you two with baby Tsumiki, the third is you holding baby Megumi as Tsumiki is standing with Toji, the fourth is the four of you with the kids who are six and seven, then the fifth one is taken from present day where the kids are teenagers while you and Toji haven’t aged at all. All of them have you wearing formal wear/Kimonos. He gets these personally commissioned and they’re 17 inches(43.18 cm) by 14 inches(35.56 cm), which is fairly large. 

Since you work 6 hours of the day, Toji always takes the kids to and from school. It’s not a problem for him nor the kids as they know you are working and making mula for them. The problem is, a lot of parents believe he’s a single dad. More so, the moms of the other students. Toji wears his wedding band on his LEFT FINGER that’s SHINING when the sun hits it and people still couldn’t take a hint. As he picks up the kiddos, a lot of moms go up to talk to him to pass time. He knows most of them are trying to flirt with him, very few only genuinely talk to him. Toji doesn’t play games when it comes to his status and is very blunt if the woman can’t get the message.

“I have a wife.”

“I’m married.”

“The love of my life and the mother of my children is working right now.”

Bro, some of these moms are jumping hurdles just to get a chance with Toji. Toji would keep on flashing his wedding band and they are fucking delusional to think they still got a shot. Someone thought he was a widower even though you were ALIVE AND WELL. Toji felt his eyes twitch as he scowled at the accusation. Toji legit wanted to push her but can’t because he’s a big guy and all. ‘Fuck, I can’t put my hands on a woman. I’ll have (Y/N) do it instead.’ Toji tells you about this and he is more mad than you are about it, which you don’t blame him for. On Friday afternoon, school’s out and the parents are picking up the kids. Tsumiki waits for Megumi outside his classroom door as they always walk out together to get picked up by Toji. As they walked out, they were surprised to see you with Toji in your work clothes. They went into a full on sprint in your direction and you crouched down to hug them both. After giving each other a good squeeze, they hugged Toji. The look on the woman’s face when she saw you was priceless. Tsumiki was hugging Toji while Megumi was reaching for you and you took him in your arms. You turn around and feign a friendly smile her way with such an elegant but dominant introduction. 

“Oh hi! I’m (Y/N). You never saw me here since I work as a (occupation). Toji takes care of the kids when I’m away working. But I come every now and then when I get off early. Thanks for keeping my husband company! Though, you shouldn’t press on a married man when he refuses your advances. I mean, it’s not like his wife and the mother of his children has resources when most of the population doesn't. So, try to refrain yourself from stepping into the deep end, Dear. It was nice knowing you!”

Toji thought that was hot af. Tsumiki was hugging Toji’s neck because she was tired while Megumi glared at the woman. After that, no woman ever approached Toji after that.

 FAMILY OUTINGS!!! Ugh, you always have one every weekend with your family. The favorites are the zoo and the park. Megumi on Toji’s shoulders while Tsumiki holds both you and Toji’s hands, she swings in-between the two of you. You go to all the exhibits your children want to go to. Tsumiki likes the marine enclosures while Megumi prefers more of the forest and savanna ones. You never could forget the way your son slightly bounces on his dad’s shoulders when he sees an elephant. He lets out a gasp of awe while calling out to you, “Mama mama, look! Look at the elephant!” “I can see it, Baby. You like elephants, Gumi?” “Yeah!” “What about you, Tsumiki-dear?” “I think they’re cool, Mama.” Toji tries to feed the animals but the animals are so scared of him like he is the most dangerous one which is true. This also goes for festivals as well, wandering the stalls and food stands. Toji winning every game you stop by and getting prizes his kids want, if his kids want it he’ll get it. The whole day is fun but exhausting once you come home. Toji carries the kids home along with the family bag. The kids are knocked out and easy to tuck in  as you and Toji decompress.

As the kids get older and mature, it’s easier to go places like Kyoto. Megumi and Tsumiki are more of exploring and sight-seeing individuals, which makes it easy on you and Toji so you don’t have to spend a lot of money to do those extravagant things. They just want to experience the surroundings and life without sticking out too much. They like the trips when you all stay at a Ryokan Onsen, it’s relaxing. Especially for Megumi since he’s away from Gojo, Itadori, and Kugisaki. He loves his teacher and classmates but they can be a handful to deal with. Once they get older, they have school and you and Megumi have missions so these family outings happen less. But if everyone’s home, you four go out and do whatever depending on the weather. Spring and early summer are good times of the year because the cherry blossoms are in bloom and the weather is pleasant. You usually go out and have a picnic when the trees are blossoming. It’s simple but sweet to get together so your kids will have some memories they can look back on fondly.

There is this scenario that I can’t stop thinking about but it’s Toji coded: After a day of family bonding, Toji is standing in the train while you and your kids are sitting. It was full but not crowded. During one of the stops, Tsumiki ends up giving her seat to a pregnant woman who’s around her late stages of the 2nd trimester. Toji pets her head as she stands next to him, holding onto his pants as you send a sweet approving smile her way. She sends one back as she grips onto Toji to steady herself. Megumi is in our lap, completely gone into the world of dream as he clutches closer to you. The stop before the one you all get off, Tsumiki helps the pregnant lady up and walk her towards the door. The lovely lady thanks her, gives her a piece of paper to her family bakery which your family become regulars later on, before waving at her and you two. Mouthing ‘You have a wonderful daughter.' You and Toji glance at each other and smile. As your stop approaches, Tsumiki asks Toji if she can carry Megumi. He asks why and she replies, “Because Mama’s tired and I can carry Megumi for her.” Toji glances down at you and see the droopiness as they flutter to keep themselves open. He crouches down, pets Tsumiki on the head, saying she is a kind and sweet kid but he will take care of it. He asks her to give him your bag while he exchanges it for his jacket. Tsumiki places his jacket around you and Toji tells her to get into your lap. She does and you wrap your free arm around her. The next thing she knows, he’s carrying you in both of his arms while you hold your children. Once the train doors open, the incoming passengers are met with a towering man holding his sleeping wife and kids in his arms. They part to make way for him and he WALKS the whole way home. His arms never tired or aching. Tsumiki smiles up at him and comments how cool and strong he is, “You’re always strong and cool, Papa.” He just chuckles in his whole deep, simp-worthy, DILF voice before crouching down to let her stand since she grabbed the house keys. She unlocks the door and holds it open for him. They take off their shoes as Toji places you and Megumi on the couch while Tsumiki gets her Sanrio blanket to place it over you and her brother. You wake up an hour later to Toji cooking dinner as Tsumiki uses her color pencils on her coloring book. You wake up Megumi and have dinner together as a family.

Has no problem carrying you and his children in his arms. Like he can carry a 8 year old Tsumiki and a 7 year old Megumi like it’s nothing. He can carry you, Tsumiki and Megumi around without getting tired. You do the trend where Toji is holding you, Megumi and Tsumiki as kids then you retake the same picture but when the two are in their late teens. The point of those pictures were meant to show Toji is still strong; if not, stronger after becoming a father. If the kids fall asleep on the couch while watching a movie, he’s carrying them to their beds. They did their homework late at night on the kitchen table and are too tired to go to their rooms, he will take them to their beds no problem. You fell asleep on the couch because you came home extremely late from work or a mission. Toji is getting you to bed with him using his oversized shirt as your PJs. When Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara are out cold from their sleepover, Toji covers them with a huge blanket and gives them each a pillow.

I discuss this a little bit in this but I’ll expand upon it here. Megumi and Tsumiki are way less traumatized. Megumi has sass and is aloof but that’s his personality. The reality is, Megumi isn’t as withdrawn or quick to make assumptions about people. He seems reserved but his walls aren’t thick or tall. He’s not going to summon Mahoraga in every death situation but just sometimes uses it as a last resort because he hasn't pushed himself to his limits. It’s more of the lack of knowledge behind his technique since you and Toji can only know so much. Plus you and Toji, specifically Toji, aren’t letting the Zen’in clan be near your children. Tsumiki also isn’t inclined to act more mature and take on adult responsibilities. She is allowed to be a kid and have a childhood, same goes with Megumi. Plus, the two are raised in a loving household. Is it a traditional one? Nope, not in the slightest. Their mom works while their dad stays at home. But it's a functional, healthy, content family. You and Toji have tried to set good examples for your children on love, relationships, and the process of communicating. There are some pitfalls every now and then. Yet Megumi and Tsumiki have seen honesty, patiences, and openness when you and Toji talk things out. 

Plus they know the rule you and Toji have: never fight in front of the kids. Matters between you and your husbands are between you two only. You never wanted to drag your children into the argument themselves. Obviously, when they are younger, you have to explain to them that you and Toji weren’t on the same page and are mad at each other. As they get older, you explain what the argument/conversation was about transparently. Megumi and Tsumiki also notice how after you and Toji clear up things the both of you never made snide remarks about each other in the slightest. This helps the kids out a lot because they never felt like walking on eggshells. That’s why Tsumiki and Megumi never really worried about you and Toji splitting over bad blood. They know you and Toji aren’t going to stay stubborn for long and make up no matter the circumstances. But there was an argument that both of them never can forget. They didn’t witness it themselves but they knew it was the worst argument you both had, and this happened when Tsumiki and Megumi were TEENAGERS. It lasted for a WHOLE DAY, the longest you two have been in the waters of the aftermath. The two of them wanted to say something but they knew better when you and Toji told them to not involve your affairs. It was worrying them to the point Megumi asked Tsumiki if this would create a rift. However, being the older sister she is, says the both of you will work through it. And she was right when the two of them came home to see you and Toji on the engawa wrapped up in each other’s arms with a blanket over you both.

Tsumiki loves the flowers and plants in your garden beyond the courtyard. When you take her outside and show her the pretty flowers and plants, she has this sparkle in her eyes as you touch and hold the flowers up to her. As she gets older, she spends most of her time in the garden as you are sitting under the tree with your blanket keeping the dirt away from you. When you mentioned to Toji the garden would look better if there were more plant diversity, the man is handing you a list of your favorite plants and flowers you want. The next few days to weeks, the plants you wanted are already in your garden and blending in well with your home. He is also doing this legally, and doesn't want to be a bio-terrorist by accident.

Toji does this with Tsumiki too. She had this book about flowers from her school’s library and told him that those flowers were pretty and nice. She kept drawing them, saying they would look good in the garden. The next week, there was a bush of them in her favorite spot. Your garden becomes the Garden of Eden with the amount of plant life you and Tsumiki bring in. You do basic gardening but Tsumiki and Toji have the green thumbs in the family. They’re the ones doing maintenance on the garden. Mostly Toji since Tsumiki goes to school and isn’t always home. 

Toji does all the planting, replotting, mulching, everything a garden needs. The type to cut the hedges into a perfect shape because it fills his ego and makes him productive. Like one time, Megumi brings over Yuuji and Nobara to hangout and they see Toji cutting the hedges into a cool dragon. Toji wipes the sweat off his forehead to see the fruits of his labor, smirking to himself saying, “I’m so fucking good at this. I’m literally the best.”

Megumi lets his Shikigami out into the garden because they like to hang out outside. The only ones allowed in the house are his divine dogs because Toji doesn't want to see a huge owl or elephant in the living room.

Come to think of it, you and Tsumiki are the main ones who decide what goes in and out of the house. The flowers and the garden were just an example. Furniture, appliances, the color of the blinds and curtains, the interior and exterior, hell everything at this point. If you and Tsumiki made a comment about the appearance of something and it started with the words if, what, wonder, he’s already pulling the catalog for ideas. It’s mostly curiosity but if both you and Tsumiki bring it up, he’s changing it to your liking. Megumi never understands this because he’s the “it is what it is” or “I’m fine with it.” Megumi would be visiting home from school and sees Toji rearranging some of the furniture or building something from scratch in the backyard and he doesn’t question it.

Speaking of which, besides the appliances/photos/silverware/complicated items, almost everything in the house is made by him or customized by him. Tsumiki and Megumi’s rooms? Toji made them into their liking. The main bedroom? All Toji’s work. Not one spot in this house hasn’t been adjusted or changed by Toji. That’s why you credited your house to being the perfect home, all because of Toji. You always remind him that his work is much appreciated around this house. He’ll just smirk but you can see the way his ears fade into a pink rose color. He loves it when you say stuff like that to him. IF the kids say it to him, his grin is stuck on his face for a whole 24 hours.

THE HANGOUT HOUSE! You know how there’s always that one friend where almost every hangout occurs at their home? That’s Megumi, it’s literally him. Technically since Yuuji permanently lives in the dorms and Kugisaki used to live in the countryside, Megumi is the only person in the trio to have an official home. They pass by it a lot when they go exploring or hanging out. Megumi never said anything but the two notice how he stares at it for some time. Then some shenanigans happen and they had to take cover in Megumi’s home. Mind you, Yuuji and Nobara were looking at Megumi like he committed a war crime when he b-lined to the house. And they know it’s a nice house. They were yelling at Megumi saying they were trespassing and they’ll be in some deep shit if they get caught. But Megumi yells at them to trust him as he opens one of the doors. Then Yuuji and Nobara start begging him to not get them killed because they finally see that the home is a literal MANSION. They think they’re cooked by whomever lives here. But from Megumi’s reaction, they’re wondering if Megumi knows the person that lives here. Then when they go inside the actual home, they slide off their shoes and walk to what’s the common area of the house(kitchen/living room). Then Yuuji notices one of the photos and sees kid Megumi and three other people. Nobara shoves herself to see it and they both turn around to Megumi grabbing a pitcher of some sort of drink out of the fridge. “YOU LIVE HERE, FUSHIGURO!?!?” “Oi, not so loud! My sister isn’t home yet but my parents are so quiet.” They don’t meet Toji here but later on because he was doing something with Shui. But you pop in and the students instantly recognize you. You force Megumi to show them around the house and they are in absolute awe. The moment they see his cool ass room, this house is their default hangout spot.

Sleepovers happen often, Megumi doesn’t want them to but you insist since he could just use one of the bigger guest bedrooms or his own room if he wanted. They stay up watching movies, shows, or watching youtube videos or documentaries just because. They do the laughing challenge to see if Megumi actually laughs. He does but fewer far in between. 

Toji embarrasses the hell out of Megumi. You don’t purposefully but by accident. Yuuji and Nobara would see Toji going into the kitchen to get a glass of water, see the color drain from Megumi’s face, then ask Toji about anything relating to Megumi. Then Toji spills the TEA on Megumi, it’s so funny. If Megumi won’t spill then his dad definitely would. Megumi’s face becomes like a tomato when anything about him comes out of his dad’s mouth.

Your house is stocked up on everything. There’s nothing in this house you wouldn’t have. Nobara needed some period products and you literally gave her a basket full of them. If she needs something else, you run to the store to get it for her. Yuuji forgot his toothpaste? You gave him a new tube and another one for his dorm. You tell them to ask you or Toji for anything if they need it. Nobara and Yuuji ask you to adopt them.

After a certain point, they just come over and ask for you instead of Megumi. He gets so annoyed and mad at them for it.

But you always insist on sleepover because Megumi finally has friends that he can call his own. It makes you happy he surrounds himself with good people and Toji agrees.

They know Megumi is balling in money which he always denies. But Yuuji brings up that Megumi has a Gameboy, Gameboy color, a DS lite, 3DS XL, a Switch OLED in his room. They’re all blue with every Pokémon game to have ever been released. He’s not beating the rich allegations.

Megumi is so irritated with Toji, it’s absolutely hilarious. I said it before and I’ll say it again: once Megumi is high school age, he’s an angsty teenager. Dude just gets so annoyed at his dad for existing, he only imagines it’s just you, him, and Tsumiki only. Toji asks him to do something, will do it but will grumble under his breath about it. But if you or Tsumiki ask him to do something, he has no attitude. Megumi is more softer with his sister and you but his dad? Nah, if he inherits everything from his dad, he’ll use them to his disposal against his Pops. He and Toji butt heads a lot but it’s never serious. Tsumiki sometimes wants to stop it but you tell her it’s a father son bonding thing.

Megumi inherited Toji’s grumpiness. Actually Megumi inherited a lot of things from Toji but he doesn’t want to admit it. Physically, Megumi is a mini version of Toji. Personality-wise, fairly similar. It’s just his hair curls up a bit but you believe it’s a recessive gene from a distant relative that decided to come out in a rare time.

Never tell Megumi he looks and acts like his dad. It will temporarily ruin his mood for like an hour or so. He legit got so mad. Put a side by side picture of the two and show it to him and he’ll walk away. If he’s compared to his mom? The saintess who does no wrong? Hell yeah he’ll take up the compliment. But his old man? He has his own personal beef with that. It’s when you or Tsumiki tell him he’s like Toji because you’re his family and know his antics better than anyone. But if it was someone like Gojo-sensei? He’s throwing a roast back. “Man, Megumi-kun. You’re just like old man Toji, grumpy and full of attitude.” “And that’s the same old man who was able to beat you and lived. I don’t wanna hear anything from you, Gojo-sensei.” Gojo cried to you about why your son was so mean to him while Suguru was absolutely done with him.

Tsumiki took a picture of Megumi when his hair was still damp from a shower, he looked so much like Toji. She showed you the picture and you asked her to send it to you. She shows Toji and Toji smirks to himself, knowing he’ll dangle that over Megumi’s head for as long as he lives. Toji gets his and Megumi’s side by side comparison framed in the house lol.

Sometimes Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko babysit younger Megumi and Tsumiki when you and Toji are busy. Tsumiki loves them, tolerating Satoru at best. But Megumi is irked by Satoru’s presence and only hangs out with Shoko and Suguru. Hates Gojo’s constant teasing but from pure annoyance. He and Tsumiki grow up with them and that’s why both of them know the three long before anyone else did.

Megumi gets irritated during Middle and High School because his parents are HOT. He remembers when his classmates from middle school would ask who’s the woman waving at him/man that grins his directions. Megumi grimaces and says “That’s my mom/dad.” Then his peers would start gushing about how gorgeous and demure you are/handsome and attractive Toji is. He wants them to shut up about it. If it’s only one of you, some of his peers would say, “Can your mom/dad fight?” Megumi wanted to punch them so badly, but refrains himself because he doesn’t want to waste his punches on a rando. It doesn’t help when he goes to the same school as Tsumiki, it’s the same THING. He knows people gush about him but he could care less. It just irritates him to no end when others do it on his family members. So when both you and Toji show up to school to take Megumi and Tsumiki out, everyone is just looking at Megumi and his attractive family. They can see where he got his genes from. His gene pool was created by divinity itself. His mom’s attractive, his dad’s attractive, his sister’s attractive, then they look at Megumi and see that he’s attractive. It gets worse with Yuuji and Nobara. They make remarks about it every time, how show stopping your looks are, his dad had people of all sexualities swooning, and his sister made people have hearts in their eyes. 

Nobara: “That’s not fair! Fushiguro gets his amazing looks and genes from the two most heavenly beautiful people in the world and he’s not using them! God has favorites for sure.”

Yuuji: “But Fushiguro-kun is using his good-looks though, Kugisaki! He’s just the more silent, mysterious, aloof type of guy that every secretly wants, you'know?”

Megumi: “Can you two just shut it right now!? Stop talking about my parents or appearance! Focus on the damn mission!”

Family dinners are silent but content. Everyone always eats together whenever possible since Toji’s done cooking dinner at 6:30pm. There’s some talking here and there but everyone is more focused on enjoying the meal Toji cooks for them. The kids clean up after themselves and usually fill the sink with hot water to place their dirty dishes inside. They prefer to eat their dad’s cooking any day. Yuuji and Nobara come over to have dinner every now and then. That’s when it’s more lively since they’re always gushing about Toji’s food.

Your children are so protective of you because of their father. Toji tells them there are some people out there that won’t respect you and tells Megumi and Tsumiki it’s their job to tell him if anyone bothered them or you. They mostly tell him about the amount of men who try to hit on you even though you said you’re already married to Toji, flashing your wedding ring, when you pick up Megumi and Tsumiki from school. Toji shows up with you, sizing up every male in the vicinity while puffing his chest. You roll your eyes but silently admit it was hot. It doesn’t change when they get older, they just hide it better. You could be in the grocery store in the produce section and some guy is hitting on you. You don’t have your wedding ring on because your fingers were sore and it hurt to wear jewelry on your hand. But you wore it on in a necklace. The guy wasn’t taking no for an answer until he saw two people behind you, staring down this man. It’s your son and husband. Then your daughter pops up and steals you away to look at a sale of some fruits she wanted. Leaving the poor man in the wrath of Megumi and Toji. They only put their hands on someone if they harass you or down right disrespect in any form. Mostly they’ll give a talk to the individual that’s not so courtesy of you. The best thing about this whole thing? The teens and Toji saw it all happen and made it into a whole operation. Tsumiki was in on it too, bruh. The men collectively agree to stare down any person that looked at you funny. Tsumiki isn’t so serious but she’s more subtle with her warnings and hints. You remembered when Toji was talking to Megumi about dealing with these situations. “Megumi, when you bring your dogs out, I need you to have them bite the guy in the balls if they try something with your mother or snatch their bag if they’re a woman.” “TOJI!” “I was thinking about the same thing, Dad.” “MEGUMI (L/N) FUSHIGURO! PLEASE! I can’t with you two!”

Those family talks. Like when Megumi opens up to you or Toji about something, it could be anything but it’s mostly personal things. You know it’s serious when it’s just him sitting at the kitchen table while you and Toji are doing something in the kitchen. Hitting you with the “Can I ask you two something?” Then you and Toji give Megumi your undivided attention to let him know you’re listening and paying attention. These happen with Tsumiki too but she’s already an open book and isn’t as reserved as Megumi. You both give your commentary and advice when asked, sometimes you let Megumi rant or let out his bottled up feelings. Surprisingly, unsurprisingly, Toji gives out insightful advice that Megumi takes into account every time his dad speaks. This is also how you become closer to your son and daughter, even your own husband.

They are allowed to swear in the house but Toji’s rule is “You can swear but it can’t be towards someone.” But the kids didn’t swear until they were in junior high.

The house doesn’t have much talking but it’s not the uncomfortable kind. It’s the kind where everyone is enjoying each other’s presence with no need for talking. It’s functional in your household, so it works with your family.

Don’t remind Toji that Megumi and Tsumiki will eventually move out and have their own lives because Toji will get all soft and emotional about it.

Toji and you are living the dream life. A nice house and property. A loving family with two wonderful children to ever bless you and your husband. And a healthy life where your family is close. Toji never thought he could’ve had this life but he now he does. This is the greatest middle finger and ‘fuck you’ to the Zen'in clan.

[dreamingonclds]

Unintentional | FA14

Summary: Y/n and Fernando Alonso were both professionals, both only seemingly having time for their careers. They both have had their fair share of relationships but they’ve never become serious for either of them. Y/n is an A-list celebrity, a highly respected actress and Fernando a champion athlete, a Formula One driver. Nobody could’ve ever imagined both of their paths to cross but, they do. It was said that their relationship was destined to fail, their 16 year age gap being too large to be sustained. But, to everyone's surprise, a blessing they created without intention was just enough to fill that gap, like fate.

Pairing: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Word Count: 2,722

Warnings: None

Chapter 1

Note: If you would like to be added to the taglist, please @ yourself in the comments!

As you meticulously applied your lipstick, your mind couldn’t help but wander to the thought of who you would meet tonight. Your stomach bubbled with nerves, a sensation you always got with meeting new people; despite how long you had been in the industry for. You met new people almost weekly, nothing new in the entertainment industry. You were used to meeting wealthy business people and pretending to care about anything that came out of their mouths. But you were genuine about meeting new directors, writers, and filmmakers; you genuinely cared about what they had to say.

Tonight was no different, you had been invited to a dinner by some friends. It just so happened that those friends were in the industry too and it just so happened that the dinner would be in Beverly Hills. So, you knew that tonight would be a night of pretending to care because the people who actually cared for the artistry of entertainment would never choose to dine in Beverly Hills. And you were a professional, so you sucked it up, put a smile on your face, and decided to have a good night.

So, you decided that to have a good night you had to have a good outfit. You were a public figure, a very popular one at that, so you did have to dress to impress. And you didn’t mind, you loved fashion and you loved to shop so it all worked out. You also cared about your appearance and wanted people to like you, but not for how you looked. You wanted people to like you for the person you were and what you brought to the table. And unfortunately, that goes hand in hand with physicality in this world. So you slip on a back silk dress because those always do the job.

Arriving at the restaurant, you thank your chauffeur as he helps you out of the car and guides you to the entrance. Stepping into the restaurant you’re immediately greeted by your friends and introduced to all the unfamiliar faces. Soon enough you're all making your way through the restaurant, several diners turning their heads to you all, some trying to sneakily snap pictures which you notice every time. Once you're seated at the ridiculously large table, you notice the empty seat beside you and around the table.

“People missing?” you ask your friend sitting right across from you.

“Yeah, they’re running a little late but they should be here very soon.” she answers, giving you a small smile.

After a little conversation, you all turn your heads to the chatter that is seemingly making its way towards you all. Sure enough, it’s the missing half of your party and as you scan your eyes through all of them, one catches your eye.

“Here they are!” your friend announces, standing up to greet them and everyone follows.

In the midst of the commotion, bodies moving left to right you hear your friend declare seating arrangements.

“Fernando, why don’t you sit next to Y/N, she speaks Spanish too.” she says pointing you out so he knows who you are.

You see a man nod and begin to approach, you notice the brunette with semi-shaggy hair and a short beard. Sure enough, it’s the one who caught your eye earlier on. He greets you with a kiss on both cheeks that you reciprocate and helps you into your seat.

“What a gentleman, thanks. Fernando, right?” you look towards him, wanting to start a conversation like the rest of the table is doing

“Of course, Y/n?” he nods in response and you do the same, noticing his accent. As you make eye contact, you begin to note the faint lines around his eyes and the maturity of his face. Your mind begins to wonder, whether he’ll take you seriously noticing the lack of physical maturity on your 26-year-old face. Usually, men over 5 years older than you never took you seriously, their conversations always started professional but quickly turned to comments about your body and sexual experience.

Before either of you could get another word in, the waiter begins to ask for your drinks of choice. Usually, you would go for a beverage that would liven you up but, you had a rule that you only drank at dinner when everybody at the table were your friends. So, you asked for the next best thing.

“I’ll take a coke please.” you tell the waiter, who quickly jots it down and looks to Fernando next

“Uh, I’ll take the same please” Fernando turns to look at you with a confused look

“Oh, I don’t know everybody at this table so, I’d like to get to know you with a sober mind.” you tell him matter of factly, hoping that was the explanation he was looking for. Although it was the truth, you did want to get to know the rest of the table; but specifically him. In what seemed like record time, the waiter comes back setting down all of your drinks.

“Igualmente” Likewise he nods towards the brown beverage in front of him.

“I thought maybe you were still too young to drink, you look young, why do you want to get to know me?” he asks, bringing his glass to his lips.

“I’m 26, not that young. And you're sitting right beside me, we have a long night ahead. Why not get to know you; your friends.” you add the last part in, trying to deflect and hide your interest in him; hoping he doesn’t catch on.

“Why’d you copy me, I mean no offense but, you don’t look like you just turned 21?” he brought up your age first, two can play at that game.

He chuckles, still looking at you.

“I’m 42, not that young either.” he says in truth. And before you can respond he speaks again.

“Pretty girl, pretty dress.” he brings his glass to his lips, looking away nonchalantly.

“And you’re sitting right beside me.” he states matter of factly, using your own words against you.

Your jaw drops the slightest and your eyebrows scrunch in surprise. His confidence, so abrupt it takes you a few seconds to bring your face back to its natural resting place. Despite your efforts to look cool and unaffected, you can see the pride your reaction gives him. With a teaseful look in his eye, he offers you a smirky smile that makes your stomach erupt in butterflies. Your cheeks and ears go hot, and you now find it hard to sit still or contain the smile pulling at your lips.

The rest of the night goes exactly as expected, the two of you deep in conversation and completely ignoring the rest of the table. There’s a tension that's rising that even the others can feel. Neither of you even realize how many times they’ve teased you two or tried to get you to join their conversation. You’ve also failed to notice the pointed phones from other diners and sneaky restaurant workers.

As you all are ending your dinner, restaurant patrons and workers start making their way to your table. Asking for pictures and autographs from you and your party alike, both separately and together. Little did you know that those images would lead to a whirlwind of speculation, the world seemed to spiral at the thought of you together.

Your group converses outside the restaurant for a few minutes, a back and forth of what the plans for the rest of the night were. You stood there to yourself contemplating whether you wanted to continue your night. You had a fitting in the morning and a couple of online meetings you had to prepare for. Considering it was nearing 1 am, you decided to head home with a professional attitude to your day ahead.

Before you can interrupt the group to bid your goodbye, Fernando makes his way to your side.

“Are you going out for more drinks too?” he turns to you.

“I have meetings in the morning, I think I’m just gonna head home.” you nod your head.

“Me too actually, I drove here by myself. Let me take you home.” he points at himself.

“Yeah, that’d be nice actually; thank you.” 

You both take a few steps forward towards the group, ready to bid your farewells together. But before either of you can mutter a word, your friend's chatter amplifies into a passionate discussion about who knows what. Fernando turns to look at you, an amused smile on his lips that turns into a chuckle after noticing your surprised expression.

“Mejor nos esperamos.” We better wait, he jokes, and you giggle looking towards him, only to realize his eyes were already set on you.

“Buena idea” Good idea,  you say with a smile, continuing the playful vibe of the setting. You two carry on with your light-hearted conversation. Unconsciously backing away from the group until your back hits the restaurant's ornate rail. Fernando holding on to the rail on your right side, halfway caging you in, seemingly protecting you from passersby giving you questioning glances; realizing who you were.

Your conversation continues and you two get lost in getting to know each other. You learn that he’s a champion F1 driver and he learns the movies he’s seen you in, not knowing it was you. Before he can finish saying where his next race will be, you're drawn out of your heart to heart by shouts from your group.

“Hey lovebirds, you guys coming?” your friend shouts pointing down the street, implying a prolonged night out.

A sheepish smile forms on your lips and you shake your head, “We both have busy mornings tomorrow. We’re gonna skip this one!”

“Alright then, don’t have too much fun!” someone teases, causing the rest of the group to laugh.

Fernando smiles and shakes his head at the joke, “I’m just going to take her home!”

You all exchange thank you’s and appreciation for dinner before saying your goodbyes. Then begin to make your way down your respective sides of the street. He leads you to his car, not in front of you but by walking closely behind you, guiding you with a light touch to your back. He helps you in, chivalrously, taking your bag from you, opening the door, and taking your hand to help you in. You take notice of what car he drove, a luxurious sports car, that to you matched the reputation of an F1 champion. You questioned yourself on if you wanted him to live up to the reputation of a man like him.

Before he can drive off, he makes sure you’re both buckled in and asks for your address. You give it to him and then you're off to your luxurious hotel, which the movie you were in Beverly Hills for set you up with. You two continue your conversation the whole time, only stopping when Fernando gets out of the car first to open your door. He walks you to your room, as he insists on “dropping you off”. But really, you’re more than happy to oblige to his request as you didn’t want the night to end.

“No paps.” Fernando blurts randomly, as you both make your way through the lobby.

You scan the room and realize he was right, you only saw the employees and the occasional normal guest.

“Oh yeah” you acknowledge, normally every hotel in Beverly Hills was swamped with paparazzi no matter the time. So you worked it up to luck, you two got lucky tonight. Little did you know that this would foreshadow the rest of your relationship.

You make it to your room and unlock the door, stepping into the doorframe and turning to face Fernando. You two stand there for a few seconds, just staring at each other, Fernando's hands in his pants pockets and your hand on the door, an undeniable tension lingers between you two.

“Do you want to come in?” you suggest hesitantly, pointing inside, ready to face rejection.

“Uh yeah, can I?” he answers quickly, surprising you and catching you off guard. 

“Come on in.” you say, widening the door and stepping back, letting him inside. He makes his way towards the living room area of your massive hotel room and you follow him. Before you can sit down on the couch beside him, you notice the complimentary bottle of champagne in the ice bucket, now sitting in water that was ice a few hours ago. You go to the table and pull out the bottle from the bucket, wrapping it in a towel to prevent it from dripping.

“Quieres?” Do you want some? You offer him, showing him the bottle.

“Por favor” Please He stands up and heads towards you, taking the bottle from your hands to open it himself. You hold up the two glasses, also on the table, for him to pour into. After pouring, he sets the bottle down and you hand him his glass.

“Gracias” Thank you You both say at the same time, which causes you both to giggle.

“Let's go to the balcony” you suggest and head outside, he follows you but, not before grabbing the bottle to take with.

You lean on the rail, one forearm resting on it while your other arm brings the glass to your lips. Fernando places the bottle on the small table conveniently outside and then he goes to stand in front of you. He halfway cages you in again, one arm holding the rail close to your side, and you notice this protective pattern of his. Both of you stand there, not saying anything with words but instead through the looks you’re giving each other.

“You are very beautiful.” he blurts out, scanning your face with a pensive expression on his face.

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion for a quick second before smiling and meeting his eyes.

“Thank you, you are very beautiful too.” you respond in honesty and nod your head when he looks at you confused. A shy smile breaks onto his face and he looks at the ground stepping away from you. 

He looks back up, licking his lips ever so slightly and takes the glass from your hand. He goes to place yours and his glass on the table while you stand there confused. He comes back to his original spot in front of you but this time way closer than before. His hand comes up to cup the side of your face and your eyes look deep into his as his thumb caresses your cheek. You go to say something but are cut off by his lips pressed against yours. You quickly catch on and move your lips with his. His hand comes off of your face and moves to your waist, you step away from the rail to try and get closer to him. He wraps both of his arms low around your waist and his fingers dance right above your bum. You instinctively bring your arms up to wrap around his neck and your fingers go to dance in his hair at the nape of his neck.

He smoothly turns you both around so now he is against the railing. Your makeout continues for a short minute until you realize something and your eyes open.

“I don’t kiss on the first date.” you say exasperated, pulling away and trying to catch your breath. He leans back trying to get a look at you, breathing heavily, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“But I’ll make an exception tonight.” you say quickly, he smiles before you lean in and desperately attack his lips again. He grabs your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist and walks inside towards the bed. He gently lays you down and stands back up separating your lips, he swiftly removes his shirt before hungrily coming back down on top of you.

The rest of the night goes as expected and contrary to your usual experience with men, he stays the night. You both sleep comfortably in each other's arms, not even wondering how it all led to this moment. Although you were both trying to figure out why this all felt so natural, you both knew one thing, this was the start of something special.

Taglist:

@minkyungseokie

@ursforever129

@thatchickwiththecamera

[tang0soda]

I haven't seen a lot of discussion about RSD when it comes to ADHD discussions, so I thought I would do the honors since it's been affecting me for many years and I'd like people to know more about it!

I have had a diagnosis for ADHD but was never told- instead learning I had autism through therapy but still having some behaviors that I could never explain that just Happened.

I learned I had ADHD over the summer, and with that, severe rejection sensitive dysphoria.

before reading, please keep in mind that this is mostly talking from personal experience and some skimmed research! not experiencing RSD doesn't mean you do/don't have ADHD, and it may not appear like how it appeared for me. I don't only have autism + adhd either, so those may also contribute to any differences! ^^

RSD is the immense emotional pain after being criticized, rejected, or even teased (ignore my misspell in the panel). This rejection can be real or perceived, and we react like this because it hurts.

The pain can manifest as aggression, bringing on symptoms of depression (thoughts of s/h, isolation, demotivation, etc) and anxiety/panic attacks.

it can cause physical aliments like the above. For me, it causes my heartrate to skyrocket, heart palpitations, the feeling of being in a crisis, and extreme shaking to occur along with stomach pain.

(In fact, right now I'm going through it because making a post talking about this, despite having & dealing with it, makes me scared of other's opinions on it.)

RSD can also take the form of avoiding situations, people, or conversations where rejection or criticism is very possible.

Like other types of dysphoria, it is out of our control and hard to manage. It can last from days to weeks to months, all depending on both the trigger* and the individual.

I had a RSD episode that was on-and-off for a little over a year or two; getting more tame and bearable as it slowly drifted and stopped haunting my mind with the incident.

Compared to the other times my RSD was set off, this moment was a rather big moment in my life and ended up permanently changing me moving forward - which can be the reason why it lasted so long.

Despite how unbearable it can get, there are some ways to cope with it & lessen the effect it has.

Communicate - If you need time to process something that's told to you, you should say so (as difficult as it is). Tell the person(s) involved about your RSD, how you need time to digest information like this and take some time to relax. Trying to respond to the information while going through the head of the dysphoria will be very rough and might not be what you truly want to say.

Distract - This is really useful for me personally! Do something that grabs your attention or occupies your mind. One of RSD's main symptoms is rumination, thinking of something over and over again. I usually listen to music, draw, or play a game that won't frustrate me - like minecraft! (i'd say rain world but some of you would call me a maniac /lhj)

Perspective - This may require some communication, but it can really help and connect with others. See what the involved people thought / perceived, explain, talk. This doesn't always have the chance to end in rainbows and rekindling but at least you understand. Sometimes simply hearing the person explain their own side is enough to ease my RSD, being able to have someone explain themselves to me so i can understand them better.

I also wanna point out the "don't take it personally" thing that people try to use to deal with it isn't something i agree with since we're going to take it personally at first regardless. Later on, not really, but you're trying to cope with the symptoms... telling someone (or yourself) that they're too sensitive & over-reacting is the worse thing you could do.

With time, you can even begin to build up your 'armor' and be able to sustain yourself in situations you might get hurt in. Of course, some things may be able to sneak past and hurt you more than you expect, but at the end of the day, you're trying your best to go about it the best you can while taking so many blows. you're doing great.

OK i dont have a lot more to add so if anyone else would like to talk about their experiences, please feel free! Character showcased here was my beloved fursona Shiki! i'm just a little neurodivergent + black artist from new york :]

hope you enjoyed it! sorry for the long post </3

[hanibalistic]

WHO YOU ARE, WHO I AM | LEE MINHO.

genre | fluff, angst, (semi) slow burn / arranged marriage au / strangers to lovers / 4th wall break

synopsis | when you wake up to a good-looking man who claims to be your husband, there isn’t much to do aside from assuming you got stuck in a drama.

word count | 12.0k+

warning | car crash / not edited since the first time i posted this story

note | bye-bye baby, i love you baby. more than that body pillow drabble at least.​

parts | one, two, three

After the doctor bandaged your hands and did some checkup on you to make sure you had sustained no more damage from the fall, you were glad to hear that they would take up the responsibility to call Minho’s parents instead.

You could not find the energy to talk to anyone about anything—perhaps you would give Yuna an earful about what happened, but she was gone by the time you got picked up by others around the scene. Tears kept falling down your face when you were getting treated, and the doctor in charge stopped asking you if she was hurting you anymore. It was obvious that your concern lay on someone else.

How did this happen? You always thought you would be so agile and smart during emergencies. The cold water of truth once again splashed down on you, reminding you that just because you think you’d be cool doesn’t mean you would be when your thoughts turn into reality. This isn’t the law of attraction, you can’t manifest the car away and you sure as well can’t manifest peace.

You sighed, your lashes wet and your under-eye pained from all the rubbing. It had to happen this way, didn’t it? The car crash was, unfortunately, essential in your drama. If it wasn’t the kidnapping, it if wasn’t the psychotic mother, if it wasn’t even the love triangle, then it would be the goddamn car crash. And as usual, it was infuriating and you wished it hadn’t happened.

It wasn’t that you minded the car crash (you would like to not see it as a plot device so often, though). You just hoped it hadn’t been Minho who got hit because he cared enough to save you from it. And now you were left here, sitting in the hospital lobby and being haunted by all the gut-wrenching components of a drama car crash.

Broken hands, broken legs, brain dead, blindness, mute, deaf, paralyzed, coma, a sudden discovery of cancer, a sudden discovery of related bloodlines, a sudden discovery of a terminal illness. You squealed under your breath as you went down the list, approaching the most common trait of them all—amnesia.

Sure, dramas usually have this rule where all you needed to endure was one to two months of hardships where Minho would revert to hating your guts, and then he would either fall in love with you again or you would give him the magical kiss of memory revival and he would suddenly remember your past together.

But those are often so unpredictable! You have watched hundreds of dramas that spin down several different lanes, and all of them have left you heartbroken one way or another. And by now you have learned how much different it would be for you to have to experience such events by yourself! If you could cry so hard because of what those pixelated people are going through, how would you begin to cope with experiencing it yourself?

A sob forced itself up to your throat, your chest sustained the pain of holding it in for too long it felt like you swallowed too many things at once, it felt like you were suffocating. You were afraid. So far, you have skated through every event with a very humorous coping mechanism, one that never does any long-term help. But this was different, this could last forever.

No, this wasn’t supposed to be the forever you experience. You two have just begun, you two were just starting to love each other loudly and happily. You haven’t had enough yet, you wanted more time! The gate to Heaven shouldn’t be allowed to close itself at people’s faces!

“Hello? Excuse me?”

You looked up at the doctor standing in front of you and immediately stood up, wiping your eyes on cue even though you had passed the point of crying and ceasing the chaos in your head. “Yes! How–how is Minho?”

“Good. He only got a few fractured ribs, a bad concussion, and a badly scraped forehead. He didn’t suffer any damage to his internal organs and there are no signs of internal bleeding,” the doctor explained. “He just needs to rest for now, but I estimate that he will wake up sooner than expected. You can wait in his room if you want to.”

You heard everything she said crystal clear. You even went so far as to repeat it in your head. Fractured ribs and concussion, ouchie but at least there wasn’t any internal damage that always sounded so life-threatening. This should be great news, but why did it sound so suspicious to you?

“Really? You are sure, doctor?” you asked, “He didn’t like…lost his eyesight or paralyzed or… I don’t know, cancer? Amnesia?”

“This is a car crash, I don’t think it will cause him cancer,” she replied calmly. If she was annoyed at your stupid questions, she was trained well not to show it on her face. “And no, we did all the scans. There is nothing else, I assure you.”

“But I swear I saw blood back then, what does that mean?”

“He scraped his forehead when he fell. We did sutures on the wound, which is going to leave him a scar but we can try to minimize it as best as we can,” she said.

Huh, bummer. Maybe I should order another car crash.

Yeah, now wasn’t the time. My apologies.

You thanked the doctor quickly then, wanting to do nothing more than to see him. But before you could leave, she held you back and shifted through her pocket for something she intended to give you.

"The paramedic stopped me and told me to give this back to Mr.Lee when you guys went in, but I assume it is yours?” she said as she pulled out a dark blue velvet box and handed it to you.

It was a ring box, with your ring stored securely in it. You felt a rush of tears piling at your eyes again but you held them down and nodded. “Yeah, well, let’s hope it’s still for me.”

“Pretty sure it will. He wouldn’t buy you a ring if he didn’t care enough to jump in front of a car for you.” She shrugged. “His room is right around the corner, you can ask the nurses around.”

You bid her goodbye then, watching her rush away as her pager beeped. Then you returned your attention to the ring. You took it out of the box and slipped it on, admiring the way it still fits perfectly around your finger. You became his and you would always be from now on; wearing the ring is an act of taking a physical vow. Clasping the box shut, you put it in your pocket carefully before heading to where the doctor pointed you.

This was painstakingly familiar, Minho thought as he opened his eyes once again to welcome the flood of nausea and ugly ceiling lights. He hasn’t been in the hospital for a long time but he could tell he was in one from the saturated smell of alcohol and the overall sickly atmosphere. Shutting his eyes immediately after waking up, he groaned hoarsely as he recalled what events led up to this moment and realized he would have to be bedridden once more.

What a shame, you would have to take care of him again—hey, hold on a second! Where were you?

Minho snapped his eyes open, panic overwhelming the revolting weight laid atop of his body and brain. He did push you out of the way, right? He remembered he did, but he couldn’t be sure if you both were lucky enough to not have a second careless driver grace the crossroad. Or what if you bumped your head too hard on the ground and got a bad concussion? Or what if he didn’t push you far away enough for the car not to hit you?

He turned his head over to the door, wanting to call for a nurse and ask them millions of unprepared questions, but he stopped in his tracks abruptly when his gaze shivered downwards and he found you sleeping with your head on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t even registered the feeling of his hand being held by yours, the pulse oximeter and the IV on his left arm had taken away most of his sense of touch.

Calming down, Minho relaxed against the pillows and exhaled in relief. He would much rather have you here and sleeping in an uncomfortable position than laying on a bed with a heart monitor beeping next to your bed. Lowering his head so he could look at you, he softened at the way your cheek was squeezed against your forearm and the fading redness visible under your once tearful eyes. Oh, how he longed to reach out and touch you right now, the desire was immeasurable.

His mellow eyes trailed over to your hand, the one laying on the side of his legs, and he frowned slightly at the heavy white gauze wrapped around your lower palm. Getting a scrape when he pushed you away like that is likely inevitable; it got the job done, thankfully, he hoped it didn’t hurt you too much. He was promoted to move his hand when he saw yours, the one you had your own pinned down on the bed softly, and it was then when he felt the roughness of the gauze rubbing against his skin as well.

With a grimace, he looked over to where your hands were stacked on top of each other, and he held his breath when he finally noticed the shining diamond sitting prettily on your finger.

You put the ring back on.

The box must have flown out of his pocket when he got hit. He had been taking it with him everywhere recently just in case the perfect timing to give it back to you turns out to be a place where he couldn’t have access to it immediately. Besides, holding the box in his hand had always reminded him of you, and he liked being reminded of you from time to time throughout the day.

It made him feel less jittery, less annoyed at the general things, and it got him excited to return home at the end of the day.

Minho couldn’t think about anything else at the moment; all that flooded his mind was how much more fulfilling it was to see the ring on your finger rather than in the box, how things should have been this way all along, and what it all meant now that you’ve worn it back.

Forgiveness for his aloofness in the past, a firm acceptance of this marriage, and that he has become someone who can be loved by you.

His shaky eyes were filled with droplets, creating a glassy sight in his already glittery eyes. Feeling you stir on your spot, he slowly moved his head up so he could watch you wake from your slumber. Your grogginess went away as soon as you met eyes with him, and instead of an excited squeal or a surprised gasp, the only thing that glossed over you was an immense relief.

Looking at you, Minho breathed out a quiet laugh, one that even you couldn’t hear. He felt your hand around him still, but your grip more secure now. In an attempt to chase the tears away from your eyes, he joked, “Stop frowning. Your face is gonna get stuck.”

“I’m glad you still remember that,” you laughed, lightly shoving his leg as your voice echoed the room. He gave you a knowing hum as if telling you it would be impossible for him to ever forget the unfunny jokes you liked to tell around the house so much, they were practically engraved in his mind.

Sitting up straighter now, your entire demeanor became gentler. Your senses less alert, your mouth quirked into a permanent smirk, and your fluffy gaze paying a constant focus on Minho. 

“You haven’t forgotten me, have you?” you asked slowly, propping yourself up on your intertwined hands and smiling brightly up at him.

“No,” he replied.

“Who am I?”

“You are [Name]. You have bad humor, you forced pizza down my throat once, and you made me like soap opera,” he said, finding his voice back as more words gradually left his lips. And then he paused for a moment, a dramatic moment where he eyed you lovingly, watching as your brows raised in anticipation. “And I think I might be your husband.”

A joyous sob came in the form of giggle and Minho whined at the strands of tears that danced down your cheeks. He reached out to you, wanting to wipe your tears away for you, but you stopped him and told him not to move. Instead, you got up from the chair and scooted closer to the edge of the bed so you two could be closer at face level.

You slipped your arm under this head and the other reached to cup his jaw. You kissed his forehead, once and twice, then you pulled away just enough for you to look at him fully. Ah, you were so filled to the brim with affection for him; it was so new to you but so real the same time that you were not afraid of diving headfirst into it.

“I think you are my husband,” you whispered with a small nod.

He smiled. “Thank you for having me again.”

You gave him a smile before leaning down to kiss him again. This time you didn’t stop at his forehead. Your soft lips trailed down his eyes, his nose, his cupid’s bow, and before you could kiss him on the lips as you had always wished, you pulled away with a puff of nervous breath. You stared into his eyes, feeling the same longing in the way his hand found your wrist and he held onto you.

What are you waiting for? For permission? For him to get better? Go on, kiss him.

You two will be fine, you won’t hurt each other.

Pressing your lips against his tentatively, you felt a rush of adrenaline racing around your lungs. It made you feel hypersensitive, like a supernatural who could hear and see and feel beyond the human spectrum—the forced nudge of your noses, the beating in your ears, the softness of his lips, your quickened breathes, his soft locks flowing between your fingers, his grip on your wrists tightening to keep you with him.

It was all so overwhelming, the intimacy and the desperation. The emotions came in tiny waves, similar to the way the ocean feels when you stepped your feet on the shore. It drowns you out, it lets you breathe, it drowns you out again. You kiss, you breathe, and you kiss him again. No matter how many times the cycle continues, no matter how many times the seawater brushes past your skin, you get surprised by it and you keep yearning for more.

Your heart was hanging by a thread, any minute now it would leave your chest and land itself straight into Minho’s palms.

Hesitantly pulling away, you kept your mouths close enough for him to still feel you against his lips. He leaned in a little, breathing out a whine that made you realize your heart was already in his hands long ago. Swallowing down a breath, you whispered, “Do you remember, that I love you?”

He nodded, his lashes fluttering as he glanced down at your lips again and back up at your eyes, “I will now.”

Minho’s heart was yours too, long ago, and you’ve learned that.

You jolted awake in the middle of the night. Heavy breaths left your lips as you sat up against the arm of the couch. Your heart was beating quickly like you had just run a mile around the track field.

It was nothing like the way you used to be yanked out of sleep. It wasn’t like your head hitting against your desk in a boring lecture, or when you brutally died in a bad dream. This one was different. You were not falling asleep and you weren’t dreaming. It was different in a way that all you saw during your ‘consciousness’ was blackness, paired with a familiar voice you never thought you would hear again.

“Mom?” you whispered as you quickly scanned your surroundings, looking for the sight of your mother.

But you were still in the hospital room. You were sitting on the couch located at the corner of the room, with your phone and leftover takeaway food resting on top of the small table before you. The moon has gone up and the sky has turned darker than night, you glanced over and found Minho sleeping on the bed as he should.

You were back in where you were supposed to be, but your mother’s voice felt genuinely real during your supposed dream. Sitting up straighter and putting your feet down on the ground, you ran your hands through your hair to force yourself into concentration. Why did you jolt awake at your mother’s voice? There should be no reason for you to find her a threat unless you felt like you were being pulled out of this world.

Like you were falling, like you were falling out of this place, like you were leaving this world and back to reality.

“Oh god,” you gasped as you snapped your head up, your eyes wide.

Great, you were finally piecing the puzzle together, [Name]. I’m glad. 

You have exhausted your one near-death experience when you almost got hit by a car yesterday. If Minho hadn’t pushed you to the side and you got hit then things would have been different; you’d be hit by the car, got sent to a hospital to get fixed, and nothing would have happened. Alas, Minho did push you out of the way, and now you have reached the limit, which was only one. If you remember clearly, the way you arrived to this world was by waking, so when you return home, you would find yourself waking up as well. 

Except this time, you would be alone, and Minho never existed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeated under your breath, biting your nails in an attempt to ease out the spiraling anxiety permanent in your head. It was all hitting you too quickly—the near-death theory, the memories you have of your real life, or the lack thereof, feeling like you were being pulled out of your own body, going back to reality, leaving Minho here.

I reckon this would be better for you, actually. The anxiety keeps you awake, and the pacing around keeps you active and forces your eyes open. It would be sooner or later, though, when you find yourself dozing off due to the inability to stay awake any longer. That’s when things get bad for you because as soon as you fall asleep, you will wake up in a whole different place. A familiar place, but different, nonetheless. 

Oh, but how could this be? You have just worn the ring, you two have just kissed for the first time. You couldn’t fathom the idea of being separated from Minho and you didn’t want to leave him yet! You never want to leave him ever! There was still so much for you two to do! You needed more time. You both needed more time!

“[Name]?”

“Huh–oh, hey, Minho.” You moved over to him with a smile. “Did I wake you?”

He could see the panic in your eyes and he frowned. “Are you okay? You look tired. Maybe you should get some sleep–”

“Oh, I–” Your bottom lips quivered.

How long would you be able to hide it before he finds out? How long could you stay awake and act normal for? How would you be able to explain why you always look so exhausted? Minho should know the truth, he deserved to know that you have been hiding something important from him the whole time. Besides, it would be such a shame if you leave him unprepared for your departure. He’s the one who has to remember, after all. 

“I’m not leaving!”

Oh, yell at me, why don’t you?

“Hey,” Minho grabbed a hold of your hand, his brows furrowed up at you, “what is going on?”

You stayed still to pull yourself together for a few seconds, breathing slowly, and then you looked back at him. “I have something to tell you.”

He could sense the solemnity in your voice and it terrified him. You had shown him a large range of your emotions before, from playful to angry to loving, but he has never seen you look so helpless. Tugging at your hand, he kissed your knuckles softly and nodded. “What is it?”

And you told him everything, struggling to make your story coherent despite only having the absolute truth escaping your lips. You told him from the very moment when you found yourself waking up next to him, and then when you were still figuring out what to do with ‘your’ past broken relationship, to adapting quickly and blending into this world. Everything up until this point, when you were so close to forgetting where you came from only to have reality force itself back into your head again.

It was taking Minho a long time to comprehend all the information thrown at him. When it seemed like he was finally done, he moved his eyes over to you and he tilted his head with a sigh. “That is a very deliberate joke.”

Right, you should have anticipated a reaction like that. It would be too easy if he brought it immediately. You pulled a face. “It’s not a joke, Minho.”

“Oh, so you are trying to tell me you aren’t from this universe and you aren’t even who you are before you came here?” he said, confusion evident on his tired face and his voice rising as he went on. “You are basically suggesting parallel universes exist?”

“No–I mean, yeah? It could be true?” You shrugged, and then you shook your head. “The point is–I can feel myself leaving this place and I am pretty sure as soon as I fall asleep, my time will be up. I just felt like I should tell you because you deserve to know.”

Despite how serious you sounded throughout your entire explanation, he just couldn’t bring himself to take you seriously. It was too absurd, the whole concept of waking up in another place. Sure, you did suddenly change overnight and you did feel much different than you did before, and there had been certain very subtle hints that could back your point up, but it was not enough for Minho to believe in what you just told him.

“You should go to sleep, [Name]. You’ve been really tired,” he said again, trying to persuade you into going back to bed.

Disappointment flashed before your eyes. Your shoulders slumped in defeat as you looked away, unsure what else you could do to convince him. The only thing you were sure about was that you absolutely could not fall asleep, no matter how tired you were. You planned to hang on for as long as you could, and hopefully, Minho would come around and believe you by then.

“I am just gonna go take a walk and come back,” you said, smiling faintly. “You should go back to sleep though.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “You can sleep with me on the bed if you want. I wouldn’t mind.”

“You know I can’t,“ you said. Leaning down to kiss his forehead, you moved away from the bed slowly. “Go to bed. I’ll wake you up with breakfast tomorrow morning.”

You closed the door, leaving him alone in the darkroom. Minho pouted, he was thinking too much to be able to just fall asleep now. The fact that he couldn’t just sleep sort of gave him a sense that he was leaning towards believing it and he was just in the stage of denial. If he really thought it was a joke then he should have no problem brushing it off, right?

He leaned back against the pillow, his fingers grasping at the air and his head filled.

Would you really leave? Just like that? More importantly, would he be able to tell if you left?

"Did you sleep?”

“They did not,” Changbin replied casually as he slammed a plastic bag on top of the table. Leaning down and proceeding to take out the takeaway food, he handed you a small box of food and looked up at Minho again. “They were up the whole night.”

“Did you seriously stay up the whole night?” Minho asked, brows furrowed at the unexpected visit by Changbin. He wanted to ask why he decided to tag along with you, but he figured it was much more important to know what happened with you last night.

“I did,” you sighed, shoving the chicken into your mouth and moaning at its delicious taste.

After realizing it would be almost impossible for you to stay awake on your own, which was such bullshit because you swore you used to have the ability to pull all-nighters like it was nothing, you ended up calling your last resort—Seo Changbin. Feeling bad that you had to wake him up in the middle of the night, you gave him the same explanation you gave Minho, and like your husband, he was extremely reluctant to accept it.

But you weren’t sleeping at all. And while Changbin had the suspicion that you were just taking this 'joke’ a little too far, he decided to humor you for the night and stayed up with you. And you spent the night over at his home, doing anything and everything to keep yourselves from falling asleep.

“Didn’t they tell you about the story?” Changbin asked, popping open a can of soda and looking at Minho as he drank. “I still don’t believe it but they were so hell-bent on not sleeping, I might just let them have it.”

“What–Changbin, I thought you believed me!” you whined, punching his behind and shoving him to the side.

“If I come over and tell you I’m not actually me and I came from another dimension, would you have believed me?” Changbin retorted, rubbing the spilled drink off his chin.

“I don’t have to because first of all, I met you for the first time at the shopping mall and I know nothing about you,” you pointed out. “Second of all, I am going through it right now. I am telling you, if I fall asleep, you will never see me again.”

“You don’t have proof that you aren’t you, [Name],” Minho chimed in, sighing in defeat as he slumped back against the bed.

Changbin pointed at you with wide eyes then, nodding in agreement. Sitting up from the couch, you turned your head to find Minho grimacing at you, and you heave a sigh. Proof. Where the hell would you find the proof to explain that you are who you are? Identity isn’t a tangible thing, no amount of paperwork can shape it for you.

“Look, I am telling the truth, alright? Or at least I am saying what I know,” you said as you grabbed a box and headed over to the bed. You handed the food to Minho, who refrained from throwing a mini tantrum the way he did before due to Changbin’s presence. Sitting down on the chair you had also pulled over, you sighed. “Who knows? Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t want to take the risk and sleep.”

You looked at Minho, your brows raising slowly to display a vulnerably honest expression. No malice was hidden behind your eyes, your gaze only directed at him. “I don’t want to leave you, Minho.”

His munching halted. He could feel a hint of unease at the bottom of his stomach, possibly due to what you said and the soft way you said it. As if you were afraid, cautious. Lowering his hand, he inhaled, kind of wishing his inner voice would kick him in the head and give him a little nudge to the right path.

But really, what more was there left to say, Minho? [Name] has said all they could.

“You are not going leave me,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “Not consciously, no.”

Minho pursed his lips. Think carefully; for him to convince himself of what you said, he has to nitpick the past and the present, like separating different colored peas with chopsticks.

Starting from the day you met him, you said you have no idea what his name is and you woke up in his bed even though he had this terrible rule of not sleeping together. That was one. Then you forgot about the marriage; you were surprised by the ring on your hand so much that you even asked him for the price. That was two. You went into his closet, even when you were banned from touching certain things that were his. That was three. These were all rules to be broken, but the old you never had the guts to do that. It didn’t make sense for the courage to suddenly appear.

Asking for a divorce and acting like you didn’t know it was arranged, forgetting that your parents were dead, completely unbothered by Yuna’s presence, suddenly knowing how to cook up a whole meal, eating lots of greasy food, profoundly cursing, being playful enough to give him nicknames and make bad jokes.

Aside from that, he could physically tell, now that he thought about it with a clearer head. You were less timid and much louder. Sure, you have your moments of tenderness, but overall you felt much more energized and much happier than before. It was a difference in your presence—you didn’t use to light up the room when you walk into one, but now all Minho could see was you whenever you come into his line of sight. And that was before he fell so in love with you.

The pieces were adding up to an unbelievable story. 

Minho looked up at Changbin, his gaze hardened. “Can you leave us alone for a moment?”

You widened your eyes at his troubled look, then you turned around and urged your best friend away as well, promising to find him later when your private talk ends. Changbin rolled his eyes and unwillingly left, and then it was finally just you and him.

Minho started without waiting. “Let me recap everything. You came here not knowing who I am or what this place is?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “does this mean you believe me now?”

“Wait–why didn’t you tell me before then?” he asked.

“I thought I would leave soon and return to where I came from. I didn’t expect to stay so long,” you said. “Also, drama taught me it is better to keep my identity hidden.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “So, you suspect that the way for you to go back is through a near-death experience?”

“And falling asleep later,” you hummed. “This one I learned out of instinct, but I’m sure it’s happened before on some show.”

Minho scoffed, “You can’t trust dramas all the time. They’re made up.”

“Yeah, but this feels too much like one for me to ignore it! I mean, look at this!” You pointed at him, smiling bitterly. “Look at you! I would have never been able to snatch a guy like you if I was back in my world. I was a huge loner. All I did was work and have fleeting crushes.”

He watched as you lowered your arm, your smile dimming significantly. “Honestly, I don’t even know if you love me or who used to be me.” You shrugged, not looking at him. “I am a new person to you now, right?”

Minho licked his lower lip. That problem has never crossed his mind before since it was so obvious that he loved you. His affection was never there, it wasn’t affection for you before. But then he started developing feelings of his own for you, steaming from a threatening turn where he might lose the care and obedience he was used to receiving. He just used to like being loved by 'you’, now he liked loving you; he liked the mutual feelings you two shared.

If all were true, then there was a whole world behind you he’s never known. You previous life, your friends, your fleeting crushes.

“Come here,” he said, patting the spot next to him.

You stood up from the chair and carefully climbed onto the spot next to him. You back hit against the side rail, preventing you from falling off, while Minho pushed his hand against your waist to keep you close to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder, a sigh leaving your lips quietly.

“You know, I thought you were funny, back when you first came here,” he said. “A little infuriating, yes, but amusing nonetheless.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” you commented, giggling when he cleared his throat and nudged the top of your head with his jaw.

“You could have totally snatched me up even if we are not in this setting,” he said. “You aren’t like other people. You treat me differently.”

Ah, and the iconic line finally decided to make its appearance. I was hoping it’d at least happen once for you to hear it because you would only be able to hear it from Minho’s mouth.

“What do you mean different? I treat you the same way everyone treats you!” you said, suppressing a chuckle. You weren’t sure if that line had boosted your ego but it sure did make you feel quite special, as cliché as it was, but honestly? As a society, we should all establish that clichés don’t matter.

“No, you were so casual and honest. I think you are the only person who has given me nicknames aside from my old friends back in high school.” He nodded with a shaky laugh. He patted your waist in a beckoning motion, seeming excited. “And you’re even more different than others now because you are the only person I love, in that special kind of way.”

“What are you, five? Special kind of way–that’s lame!” you exclaimed, laughter escaping in between. When you quieted down, you pressed yourself closer to him and looked up.

He only glanced down when he felt your lips at the side of his jaw. And he kissed you then, leaning his head down eagerly to capture your lips. You were careful with moving around, your hand going up to stop at the nape of his neck, rubbing comfortingly as your mouths danced with each other sensually.

This could never be enough. Minho wanted more than this, he thought as he tugged you closer to him, feeling your chest against his side. This could never be enough. He wanted to do more than kissing you in a hospital bed. He wanted to kiss you under the moon, to kiss you at home, to kiss you during a spontaneous snack run at midnight. He wanted to eat junk food and get emotional about fictional characters with you; he wanted to see you read books while he worked on the side.

Minho wants you with him, always.

You pulled away, gasping a little at how teary his eyes had suddenly become. You didn’t need to ask why. You could already tell. “Do you believe me now?”

“I can’t. I don’t want to.” Minho let out a shaky breath. “If I do then I will have to accept the fact that you might leave me soon.”

A sobbing noise spiked from the back of your throat as you reached up to peck his lips. “I will try my best to stay awake for as long as I can, Minho.”

He nodded, even though the fact alone broke him, the fact that you two have to settle for 'as long as you can.’

You jolted awake again, this time in Minho’s workroom with a new book held loose in your hands.

You kept the lights on for the sake of having an awake atmosphere even though you knew very well that would do nothing to help your exhaustion. Looking up from the couch, you found it hard to just squint at the clock hanging above your head, but you saw that it was long past midnight already.

You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch as you kicked your legs in frustration. You were officially three days in, all three days you went without a lick of sleep. And you put in lots and lots of effort to accomplish that, such as eating, doing yoga, shopping, scrolling the internet, and indulging yourself in many new shows filled with more than seven seasons of emotions.

It was painful. Your body felt heavy and your eye bags were probably getting bigger as you went on. Your mind was slow, you zone out too much and you kept dozing off. The only thing keeping you from falling into slumber was the sickening feeling of you astral projecting out of this place.

You didn’t want to cry though. Not only would it make you feel even more exhausted, but it would also make you feel weak, and you didn’t want to feel pathetic that way if you were doing this so you could stay with the love of your life.

Huffing out a groan, you got off the couch and left the room. You were much more familiar with the house by now, you could practically walk anywhere with your eyes closed as long as you knew where you started. You walked down the hallway and stopped abruptly before a pair of doors.

Minho’s closet was as you remembered it was. Black and white, very minimalistic, with clothing racks lining up against the wall. One thing has changed, though, he has opened up a space for clothes you got him from time to time. The ones you thought he would look good in and he occasionally wears around in the house when he didn’t need to be in formal attire.

You flipped through the clothes, remembering where each one of them came from with a smile. It was quite funny as well, to see how the clothes gradually grew to be more accurate in his size with the more you brought.

Pulling a sweater off the rack, you admired the soft material by kneading it between your fingers, then you hugged it close to your chest. You brought the fabric close to your face, inhaling the warm scent you’ve gotten used to smelling on your own clothes as well.

You never tried to look into what detergent the housekeeper used to wash your clothes, but you always thought it had an artificial smell of some type of flower you have never smelt the actual scent of before. It stopped mattering now that you have gotten so accustomed to the smell. It just has the scent of a home, and home is Minho for you.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled out to control your quickened breathing. A sob threatened to break out but you muffled it with his sweater, clinging onto it like it was your life-line.

It has been so difficult for you. Staying awake beyond your limit and trying to smile with everyone else; you couldn’t even tell Minho how you felt when he asked if you were okay because a part of you dreaded that he’d let you go. You felt alone, worrying and fearing for the day you would leave this place.

Standing in his closet and having his scent so close to you pushed you past the breaking point. All you knew was that you wanted to stay with Minho, and knowing how sleep would be inevitable made you cry.

The past three days have only been about that. You couldn’t afford to think about anything else.

You stood there alone and sobbed for as long as your body allowed. When you were done, you dropped the sweater on the rack and took off your own just so you would wear it.

It felt warm, big and warm, just like Minho.

You felt another sob bubbling up.

Minho could tell you have been crying when you arrived to visit him for the night.

It has become increasingly difficult for him not to notice how worn out you were, not to mention having to neglect it and pretend as if nothing was happening. Although you were the one who was so determined to keep yourself in this place, and of course, he too wanted you to stay here, he couldn’t help the gruesome guilt that rips through his veins whenever he sees that defeated state of yours.

You were dozing off on the couch again. He could somehow feel it whenever you’ve got your eyes closed, it was like a tingly sense that shoots down his spine. Even then, he always looks over to check if you are, and you were this time, your chin squished against the base of your palm with your elbow propped up against the armrest of the couch. You were dozing and waking, an indefinite cycle that would only stop until you reach the point of insanity, he supposed.

When this first happened, when he first saw you with your eyes closed and unresponsive, he used to have this knot in his stomach that would tighten harshly in a way that makes him hallucinate pain. The fear used to make him want to throw up, it used to make his face go red and his fist curl until the nails dig deep into his skin. It feigns an anxiety attack for him, and God knows how to properly handle those.

“[Name]!” he repeatedly called for you, feeling the knot inside of him release its chokehold slowly the longer he has to call for you. But you woke up eventually, your body falling to the side and the sudden impact yanking you out to sleepiness.

You looked around and heaved a sigh, whether it was a relieved one was uncertain to everyone, including you. Turning over to look at Minho, you tilted your head and asked, “Hey, what’s up?”

Your posture was terrible, like usual but much worse now that your shoulders were hunched all over and your neck cranked in longing to take a decent break. Your body was fidgety, a habit you picked up to keep yourself active in movement so you wouldn’t fall asleep. The dark circles under your eyes were starting to get more visible than the smile Minho had always paid more attention, and there was no light in your eyes, just a pit of shadowy doom.

Maybe you were trying your best, but you couldn’t look at him like you love him anymore; your eyes physically could not manifest the affection you felt.

This was his fault. Maybe it wasn’t, you certainly would never blame him for this, but Minho still felt like he was the one putting you through all of this. And he hated seeing you so out of place because you haven’t slept in days, and for what? To get a few more days with him? Honest to God, your mind was barely with him these days anyway.

Minho pursed his lips into a thin line, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. And he shook his head. “You should go to sleep. This is killing you.”

You were quick to turn down his suggestion. “No.”

“Go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to,” you said. “I don’t want to go.”

“Well, you are going to have to go either way so why not make that earlier?” he asked, raising his voice, causing your defenses to build up quickly.

You stood up from your seat, your eyes wide in a glare for the first time in days. “What is your problem, Minho? Do you want me to leave so bad?”

“I don’t–“ he breathed out a sigh, closing his eyes to keep his temper low now that yours have been shorter than usual. “I don’t want you to leave. If I get to choose, I will always choose to have you stay here with me, but look at yourself!”

You raised a brow. “What?”

“You’re tired, you are so tired. You have been crying, you eat slow, your temper is short, you barely react to anything anybody says. Even the nurse who came in to check up on me this afternoon asked if you are okay because you don’t look okay!” he exclaimed. Then, sucking in a breath as if gargling his words, he exhaled through a soft huff before he whispered, “I love you, [Name], so much. But not like this. Not when you are so miserable because of me.”

If his existence is causing you pain then he’d rather not have it. As selfish as he wanted to be, he would choose to let you go.

Your arms dropped to your side and you rolled your eyes up. You have told him the same thing before. God, you felt like one of those female leads who cry every single episode, it was so enraging. Everything you have sought to not become, you’ve become it.

Minho moved to the side on his bed, leaving you a spot, and he called out, “Come here.”

You looked back down at him, your sight blurred at the thought of what he meant to do. You were going to walk over, he would wrap you in his arms, and you would fall asleep to his warmth. He would still be here but you would be somewhere else. It would be quick, it would happen before you even know it.

“Come here, please?” he asked again, softly. “Let me hold you.”

You rubbed your eyes and moved over slowly. He helped you as you climbed onto the bed, snuggling up next to his side with your head laid on his shoulder and his arms securely around your torso. He squeezed your arm and breathed out a joking giggle, mentioning something about you getting chubbier and earning a hit on the chest in return.

His fingers shifted through your hair when you looked up at him, and he smiled down at you like nothing was going wrong. Eyeing his lips once, you didn’t hesitate to reach up for a long, loving kiss, one where your tears were mixed with the taste of his mouth.

When you pulled away, you said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” he said, shaking his head. “This is actually pretty funny. I am the one who got injured but here we are, crying over you leaving instead.”

You laughed silently, bringing him closer to you. Minho has steady breathing but his heart beat quickly. It rattled against your ears, reminding you that he was as nervous as you were about losing each other. Your senses were shutting down slowly, ready to go into rest when you finally gain the sleep your body has been screaming at you to get.

“I’m sleepy, Minho,” you muttered, adjusting your head.

“I know. You can sleep, it’s okay,” Minho hummed. “You can go. I’m gonna be fine.”

You licked your lower lip, the dryness giving you a sticky sensation. “Love them as much as you love me, alright?”

He couldn’t do that. But he wouldn’t tell you, he wanted you to go without any troubles lingering in your head. He wanted you to leave happily, or as happy as you could be.

Kissing your forehead, he felt your breathing ease up. His hand rubbed your back soothingly as he asked, “Will you remember that I love you?”

You didn’t answer.

Minho stirred uncomfortably in the single hospital bed. As his sense slowly returned to him, he tightened his grip on you, keeping you from falling off. It was nighttime outside, and he supposed a nurse dropped by and turned the lights off when he saw you both sleeping. He could barely remember what happened before he was knocked out.

You shifted slightly by him, head nuzzling against his chest before looking up to find the owner of the body you were cuddling.

“[Name]?” Minho called.

The person jolted from their place. Feet landing coldly on the floor, they fixed their hair and took a wide step away from the bed. “Minho! I’m sorry!” 

His heart dropped. There was his answer: he could tell.

Same face. Same body. Same voice. 

Not you.

Your eyes snapped open and you groaned at the pain oozing at your side. What the hell happened? You could see that you were back in your room, which was weird because the last time you checked, you were on your way to work. You remembered waking up late and rushing out of your apartment, and then everything simply went blank from there.

“Oh, you’re awake! I thought you died or something!”

You sat up on your bed and furrowed your brows at your brown-haired friend. Rubbing your eyes, you yawned and scanned your room, taking in its unfamiliarity with intense suspicion before you turned back to your smiley friend and asked, “Did you move my shit?”

“I just got here like five minutes ago after your mom called me,” he deadpanned. “I was cooking you chicken porridge! She said you blacked out and slept for three days straight, you sleepyhead!”

“Three days–Chan what?” You got off your bed and headed over to your desk where your phone was. You weren’t sure why you needed to check the time, it held no significance to how you were in deep trouble with your boss for ditching work for three days. “Why did no one wake me?”

He handed you a glass of water first, seeing how frantic you appeared right after waking up in the middle of the day. You received it—snatched it—and quickly gulped down the liquid, feeling a sense of relief rush through you when the water hit your throat.

“We tried but you were knocked out cold.” He shrugged. “If you are worried about work, don’t. I talked to our manager for you already. I even exaggerated the part where you almost got in a car crash and died so you needed time to recover from it.”

The water spilled from the glass when you choked in shock. Your brows furrowed harshly as you pulled the glass away, causing more water to flow out of the cup, and you yelled at Chan, “What? I almost got in a car crash?”

He gave you a slow laugh, more concerned than annoyed that you’ve made a mess and yelled at him in the past five seconds. “You almost got hit by a car the other day when you left for work. You were looking at your phone and not paying attention. I had to pull you away from the road! Did you forget all of that?”

You placed the glass of water down on your desk, rubbing your mouth with your forearm harshly. As you brought your hand closer to your mouth, a painful scratch eliciting a yelp from you. Moving your hand away from your face, your eyes trailed up your arm and they widened when you saw the diamond ring located on your fourth finger. You cursed out loud, gaining Chan’s attention, and when his eyes moved towards what you were looking, he too mirrored your confused look.

“What is this!” you asked, looking at him.

“What is what–woah! Did you drunk buy this?” he asked, moving closer to examine the ring on your hand. “You need to return it. You’re crazy. You can’t afford this!”

“I know I can’t afford this,” you exclaimed, glaring at him in defeat. “But I swear I don’t remember ever buying this! Did you see me wearing this when I almost got hit by a car?”

Chan paused for a moment to think. He hadn’t really noticed back then, he was too busy trying to keep your phone-obsessed ass from dying. But if you didn’t have it back then, there should be no way for you to have it now. You have been bedridden, you could not have possibly gotten drunk within the last couple of days, and you would never buy a ring like that when you were sober.

“Did you steal it from someone?” he suggested, feeling the wrath of your impatience as he stepped away from you in precaution. “Oh but you couldn’t–“ 

“No! I don’t know where this ring came from, Chan,” you exclaimed, showing him your hands and grimacing at how perfectly it fit around your finger. “Also, can’t you humor the idea that maybe someone proposed to me?”

“Someone with the money to buy that ring? Uh, no,” he said honestly, putting his hands on his hips in a comical way.

Brushing him off, you slumped back onto your bed with your arm covering your eye. “Whatever. I’ll find out where I got it from somehow.”

“Or you can sell it,” Chan suggested.

You chuckled at the thought. Imagine the amount of money you could get from selling that ring. You did not know about diamonds but you could tell when one looks expensive. Bringing your hand up above your face, you shifted your hand to observe the ring more carefully. A weird sense of comfort rushed through you, making you relax further into your mattress. Coming after the comfort was a very bad sense of nostalgia, one that makes your heart ache for something you couldn’t remember.

“Actually, maybe I’ll keep it,” you muttered, eyes hazy the more you stared at the ring. “I think I want to keep it.”

“Okay.” Chan shrugged at the side. Moving over to your desk, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Are you gonna be okay? I need to go back to work. Lunch is over for me already.”

“Thank you,” you hummed from the bed, nodding. “I’ll come back to work as soon as I can.” 

“Before you get fired, at least.” He eyed you carefully. You laid motionless on your bed, completely out of it. He nudged your feet with his own to catch your attention. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I am fine, Chan.” You rolled your eyes. “Stop nagging.”

He scoffed, but ultimately his voice was soft when he spoke, “I just want to make sure you are okay, alright?”

The nostalgia hit like a rush this time and you held down a flinch. For some reason, Chan didn’t sound so much like him when he said that, but you couldn’t tell whose voice that was. When you turned your head to look at him, your gaze shifted in rapid sequences, like frames changing on a television screen. Chan’s silhouette shifted in blurry motion into a man of slightly smaller but more visibly muscular stature. You felt your body jolt in recognition. 

Recognition? Pause. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Let me rewind it. 

Chan scoffed, but ultimately his voice was soft when he spoke, “I just want to make sure you are okay.”

You sniffed away a potential sneeze, hearing Chan’s giggle from your ridiculous expression. Throwing your head back against your bed, you waved your hand at him. “Just go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he said. “Call me if you need anything.”

You hummed loudly in response, not bothering to look up at him. When you heard the front door lock, you groaned out a frustrated sigh and turned to your side. It has been a weird couple of minutes; you almost got in a car crash but you forgot, you slept for three days and you had no idea, you got a diamond ring on your hand which you have no recollection of ever getting. 

You brought your hand up and frowned. The ring was heavy on your hand and it would most likely disrupt your sleep. But there was something else—the nostalgia that was lapping at your chest one wave after another. A feeling beyond your imagination, resting against your heart carefully yet it rattles you like nothing ever has.

“Where did you come from?” you whispered to the diamond ring sitting perfectly on your finger. 

You decided not to take it off.

Never in a million years did Minho think he’d end up relying on Changbin, but he has no other option due to knowing a shared secret. 

“How are you feeling?” Changbin asked after he plopped down on the study room couch. 

Scatters of paperwork piled on the table were deliberately placed messily to distract Minho from his worries. If his eyes were occupied, his mind may be too. Turning the chair, he eyed Changbin nonchalantly by the desk. “My spouse left me.”

“Not good. Noted!” Changbin exclaimed with a single clap of his hands. He ended up awkwardly rubbing them as they laid themselves on his thighs. 

Silence emerged, much like every other time they’ve hung out together. If he could call it anything different, Changbin would consider these moments more mandatory emotional check-ups than hanging out with good friends. Not only was Minho not a good friend, not even with such a golden opportunity, but Minho was never in the mood for anything anymore. In some ways, he has reverted to his grumpy personality, only this time he knew how to be nice about it. He learned it from you. 

“Do you think they’ll ever come back?” 

Changbin looked up from his fiddling thumbs. Minho’s thousand-yard stare burnt holes through the ceiling, but Changbin wasn’t sure if he was thinking about the particular question he voiced. He’s done his fair share of deep-diving about parallel universes and whatnot. Understanding the theories was one thing; accepting that it has been carried out was another.

It still felt impossible. Changbin was holding onto the fact that you have never jumped anywhere, and it was a figment of your imagination that you somehow could portray excellently. 

A character change only takes a good performer or someone fully convinced they’re somebody else. 

The light glimmered as if to add glamour to the rigid atmosphere. Changbin let his neck rest on the back of the couch, and he shrugged. “If they do, you’ll be the first person they look for.”

Light returned to Minho’s eyes. He dreamt about that day. He wondered how it would go. Perhaps seamlessly as the day you first arrived. There won’t be chances of him missing your presence; not only would you make yourself seen, but he was more than sure he would know. A radar within himself would begin blaring sirens—he would just know if you were around again. And it would be a typical day. You would be at home, and he would return home. You would have dinner, you would go to bed together. 

It would finally be a normal day when you come back. 

For now, the glimmer in his eyes fades.

Weeks have passed with the same weight on your shoulders. You have come around to learn how to ignore it. You have learned to distract yourself from it. You work, hang out with people, and entertain yourself with the media. But even then, the grave mistake you made to not take that promise ring off your finger kept reminding you of the shaking sentiment that often shines at the end of the day.

You have looked through different online shops to find out where you could have gotten the ring from. It was a long stretch. You knew it would take ages to find the actual shop, but the promise of long-term confusion somehow assured you that you would have an excuse to keep it with you longer.

It has been weeks, though, and your hope was thinning. You could not find any matches, even after you personally headed over to the shops and asked the staff to take a closer look. You even went so far as to search for the lesser-known brands that would still make rings with diamonds as sparkly and extravagant as the one you got. Nothing, it was like the ring was custom-made, and that made you feel worse about having it.

It must have been really important to the owner, you reckon. It should not be in your hands.

“I feel bad for keeping it,” you spoke to the phone, where Chan sighed on the other side, most likely from irritation. The ring was all you talked about these weeks, aside from occasional work problems and drunken confessions you weren’t afraid to make to him.

“Then sell it.”

“But I don’t want to sell it.”

“Then what do you want to do? I keep giving you suggestions, and you keep shooting me down,” he complained with a helpless whine.

“I want you to tell me what to do!” you exclaimed.

“I say sell it,” he said.

“I don’t want to sell it.”

“I’m hanging up. I can’t take this abuse anymore,” Chan threatened with a yell of frustration. You could imagine him leaning against his chair and pushing it away from his desk, his eyes squinted into moon-shaped smiles, and his nose scrunched up in defeat.

“It’s just… this stupid ring is giving me weird vibes!” You stopped before the road and glanced down at the ring. “I feel sad but also happy when I look at it! Like some sort of deja vu!”

“It’s deja vu. Everyone feels like once in a while,” he said. “Maybe it’s not as serious as you think it is.”

You frowned. Chan was no help at all. From your peripheral vision, you could see that people had started to cross the street, so you followed suit quickly, intending to not block the road and be yelled at by some caffeine-deprived stranger who hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep yet.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road thoroughly, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears.

A stranger reached their hand out to grab a fistful of your shirt so they could yank you back to safety. The pull was strong and panicky, like back when you were younger, how your mother would smack you after you did something wrong, but much harder than that. Your gaze wobbled when your head hit a slight whiplash at the force, the sky welcoming your view. Tears unnaturally welled in your eyes as your hands waited for the impact of the ground. 

“No,” you whispered, the blur of a car crash disappearing from your memories. “Minho–“

I will be scratching that off. Let me rewind. 

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street, as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road thoroughly, you could only take one step before the sight of incoming cars made you freeze. 

A stranger reached their hand out to—

Uh, I'm also scratching that off. This is wrong. Nothing happens to you.

How did you manage to get yourself stuck in a near-death situation twice in a row? What is this? Is it some kind of manifestation theory? It's made up.

Let me rewind.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You jumped out of the way with a scream, missing the car by a few inches. It scraped past you, causing your body to fall back. Instead of catching yourself in the slow fall, you let your body flail about in the air as more cars slowly closed the distance between themselves and you. Pedestrians standing on the road couldn’t do anything out of sheer intimidation, born from the cars speeding toward you. You looked toward where the honking came from.

Alright, clearly, you are unknowingly in a disagreement with me. I have seen this in prior experiments. Something that involves the biological lack of freedom when your body moves toward what you truly desire? I have seen that before.

You will not hinder this experiment because of it. I am rewinding further.

“It’s deja vu. Everyone feels like once in a while. Maybe it’s not as serious as you think it is,” Chan said. “Look, you’ve been thinking about this too much. How about we go get a drink tonight? 

“I don’t know, Chan,” you muttered with a sigh. “I’ve been feeling really depressed lately.”

“I’m surprised you don’t think I can tell,” he said. “How about this–I’ll buy some drinks, and we’ll hang out at yours. Beats heading outside, right?”

You closed your eyes. That could work. One of the biggest reasons the outside was so unappealing was that you had to step into it. Even now, with the sun shining on your head, you’re quickening your pace to go home.

If Chan was willing to go through the trouble of paying for drinks and hauling them to your apartment, you’ve got no complaints. It might also be an excellent way to forget about this whole deja vu situation.

“Deal,” you confirmed with a soft smile. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”

Chan giggled from the other side, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

The sequence repeats itself. I swore I scratched that off the document.

You snapped your head up from looking at the ground. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you—stop! I

can’t keep doing this. It’s your muscle memory, isn’t it? That damn biological manifestation theory is real.

Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road entirely, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears—you are suicidal. You are suicidal over a man your mind cannot begin to make out the silhouette of.

It's pathetic. Stop wasting my time.

You could see the cars coming, but your feet wouldn’t move. Your eyes stared through the danger into a beacon laid far away, the illusion of a man’s face you should have forgotten, and I know for a fact that you weren't supposed to acknowledge you have forgotten someone.

His name echoed silently through your mind, but his warmth remained on your body, in the shape of your arms and the weight on your finger. 

I insult you. I say you cannot remember his silhouette, and the next second, your spite draws a fraction of him in your mind. Or perhaps it wasn't spite but rather love? Is this the lesson you are teaching me? That love and spite are identical? That love stands beyond the mind and the body as its own concept?

You didn't choose to remember, yet you do. Returning to your true home was instinctive, and I’m afraid it is time for me to admit that I have no power to stop you.

Love goes beyond even me. Suppose that's a good lesson to learn.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street, as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears. Scared, your knees gave away, and you fell backward.

The screams of others and the urgent car honks were blocked out from your ears. You turned your head to the side and saw a truck running down the road towards you. This one would kill you, you would close your eyes, and you would leave this place. Your lips quirked uncontrollably. 

You would go back to him.

The mesh curtains stayed the same, useless against the sun but pretty with it. The bedsheet was as you felt it the first time, soft and silky yet thick and warm, the ones that make you sleep like you were in a goddamn coma. And Minho was the same as you last remembered seeing him—fluttery lashes, soft brown locks, and naturally pouty lips.

You remembered. 

You pursed your lips into a tight smile to keep a laughing sob from bubbling up your throat. Staring at him, you realize he made you feel the same as you last remembered, and immeasurable affection pulled at your fingertips, longing for a touch of his gentle skin and to feel him close to you. And you did, unapologetically, caressed his face with the back of your fingers.

Perhaps it was a deliberate plan to wake him up, but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself.

Minho stirred in his sleep at the touch. His brows furrowed before he opened his eyes, and when he saw you, his frown only deepened. You (or, well, ‘you’) have never tried to attempt this before, nor has he ever asked for love from them. His mind was occupied by somebody else, someone he thought would never come back to him ever again. Feeling this, having his cheek tenderly stroked in the morning, was surprising and weird.

“Hey, Minho,” you whispered, pinching his cheek slightly.

A shiver so strong it felt like a lightning zap ran down his body. His eyes widened slowly in recognition. He would know. He would just know. Through looking at you, through the feeling of your skin, through the way you space out your words, through the way you control your tone, through the way his ears react to your voice, through everything. He would know. He would be the first to know. 

His eyes moved across your features. You looked the same as he had always seen you, before and after you left. But there was one defining difference he could make: the ring on your hand wasn’t there before. You had taken it with you after you left this place, and now it’s back. 

“[Name],” he croaked out, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder, gripping it gently.

“I’m home.” You nodded with a smile. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you I’ll be late.”

The tears flow freely down his cheeks. It has been extremely difficult for him to revert to his usual lifestyle and pretend to be in love again. He had tried to bring himself to like ‘you,’ but it was useless. They simply felt different despite looking the same as you. 

He had missed your stupid jokes, the way you could come back home with bags of clothes he rarely has the chance to wear, and the food you cook. The little recurring moments he loved with you, he replayed them every night in the room and didn’t dare to allow himself to forget you.

You took the initiative and moved closer to him. Your palm was flat against his cheek now, and after you lovingly nudged the tip of your noses together, you leaned in to give him a long-awaited kiss. He melted against you, against your lips and your hand, with desperation in each curve of his mouth. He felt like he couldn’t let go. He knew he couldn’t let you go this time, never again.

Reluctantly pulling away, your dazed eyes stared right back into his. You touched his face again, smiling. Minho cupped your hand in his, pressing his forehead against yours with a light whisper, “Do you remember who I am?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Who am I?”

The sun shone from outside, casting a ray of warmth at an empty ring box located at the corner of the desk.

“You are Lee Minho,” you said, giving his lips a peck. “You are my husband.”

And you remembered that he told you he loves you, just as you love him.  

[headspace-hotel]

I think a critical flaw in the vegan’s user’s argument was that they clearly buckled down on how capitalist exploitation and overproduction factors into milk and meat markets… and then seemed to assume that vegan diets avoid capitalist pitfalls completely.

But you’ve already posted on your blog before about how crop production under capitalism has created huge environmental issues in terms of biodiversity, depletion of topsoil, and sustainability. Meaning even a non-animal diet can (especially on the scale necessary for every human being currently in existence) still create large-scale issues if that diet demands having specific foods in abundance to avoid eating meat.

Like, I’m sympathetic to what vegans want to do, it just feels like they’re ignoring a MASSIVE number of pressing logistical and environmental issues to push that agenda. There’s several intersecting problems here, and claiming humanity as a whole is poised to chuck eating animals completely seems to be jumping the gun.

This is basically exactly what I hope to convey to people. I feel like extremely pressing issues such as topsoil loss, pesticide and herbicide use, and pollution caused by nitrogen fertilizers, not to mention the severe biodiversity impacts of monoculture, are being disregarded in favor of a very simplistic "Meat is killing the Earth" argument.

And I think the "veganism to save the earth" idea is just...distracting, as a movement. I'm glad people are motivated to do it. I don't think it's bad. But we need people to take action beyond just Buy Product. Anyone telling you that the most important action you can take is Buy Different Product does not have your best interest, or the planet's best interest, in mind.

If you're eating a plant based diet, but your only relationship with your food is Buy Product, you are still alienated from the source of your food. You still don't know, and can't respect or care for, the ecosystem or the labor that gives it to you.

My agenda is far more along the lines of "society needs to be organized so more people are directly involved in growing food that feeds their community" than anything to do with animals, but it's clear to everyone who has studied it for 2 seconds that farming needs to change hugely and it's so, so much more complicated than "farming animals is bad, farming plants is good."

Also the fact is that veganism cuts you off from sources of nutrients that have been part of virtually every human society ever, a LOT of people have disabilities, allergies or nutrient absorption issues that mean going vegan isn't possible for them, and people who try to argue with me about this simply Stop knowing how to read when this is brought up. "Some people need animal protein to live" is a reality of the world but people who don't like this straight up refuse to consider it.

I have no food allergies or sensitivities, and I still struggle to eat enough food to live. I lost thirty fucking pounds in college because of stress, the dining hall being shit, and my roommate trying to control my eating habits (long story). Thats like...well over 1/5 of my body weight. Sometimes people Cannot restrict their diet safely.

Like, sure, I 85% agree with the vegans who like to comment on my posts, but the remaining 15% of things they say is completely insane.

And some of them are so out of touch with reality that they will swear up and down that it's impossible for humans to drink milk without someone having to murder a baby animal. They seem to think farming is exclusively some kind of horror show that happens in a warehouse somewhere, and don't understand the concept that "some people live in rural areas" or "it's not uncommon in some places to just keep a few dairy goats that provide milk for your family."

And if they admit this exists, it's like "well, that's not where your dairy comes from, because the INDUSTRY—" thats. that's my point, you can get milk from a farmer who keeps a small herd that is well treated, we should start doing this actually, you can even keep your OWN goat

my ideal world involves "backyard chickens and goats are legal in suburban areas where there's space" because there's literally nothing innately unethical about keeping a couple dairy goats or healthy heritage breed chickens and you can quote me on that and you can even fight me.

That one person (the one who kept bringing up eating poop) (Lord what a sentence to have to write) eventually turned to "Well those sources are wrong because governmental organizations want you to keep eating animal products" which is already well into "conspiracy theory" territory. No thanks.

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LBGTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 3, Wave 1, Poll 3

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included. 

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Wei Wuxian-The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi

Qualifications:

Goes through a somewhat unethical organ transplant (in that the person he is giving the organ to doesn't realize that's what's going on) where he gives up his "golden core." This is like his center of power and by giving it up, not only is he not able to do most of the more "magic" things he could do before, but he's also noticeably physically weaker and gets injured much more easily (and takes longer to recover) as well as faints more often (iirc he only faints once pre-golden core removal and that was after sustaining major injuries and going on for a significant time without any healing while also fighting and traveling). Like he finds ways around it and invents new methods so that he can still do some things that he did before, just via a very different method. In the show we don't really see any characters who aren't cultivators, or at least part of that world, so Wei Wuxian is like the only character we really get to see without a golden core.

Also gotta say that this boy is severely depressed. Like "I'm-going-to-ask-my-doctor-friend-to-perform-a-mutliple-day-long-surgery-on-myself-in-which-I-will-be-awake-where-she'll-rip-out-the-core-of-my-being-and-transplant-it-into-my-adopted-brother-who-I'll-make-sure-never-finds-out-what-happened-even-though-he'll-come-to-hate-me" depressed. he has no value for his own life other than what he can give to others, even if it's his own body. like I think some fans unfairly classify him as being insane when he's really just depressed as all hell and having the worst possible things happen to him one after another and every time he breaks down it causes more trouble and usually people end up dying because of him.

Propaganda:

https://youtu.be/swbXAVADjxY ^ok this clip kinda explains the whole thing better (and obvs spoilers)

https://youtu.be/2wO5nsnkSBk ^and this video is just for fun but it's a little thing about Wei Wuxian & Jiang Cheng because their relationship makes me unwell

Additional Qualifications/Propaganda by @transparent-internet-maker

Kinda surprised ADHD!Wei Wuxian isn't included I thought that was a popular hc. There are several signs: He seems to forget a lot of things, but at the same time he clearly remembers other things that happened a long time ago. He invented a. lot. of things. His mind is almost never where he physically is and he's really smart in that thinks-way-too-much-out-of-the-box-in-a-short-time way. (1/2)

Then there is the fact that he's actually knowledgable, more than most of the others at times, but we see him doing whatever else he wants to instead of studying more often than not. The inventions point and this put together hint at him not being focused and having hyperfixations. And the general view of not studious but still smarter than everyone else just clear adhd I think. NOT trying to hate anyone, I thought I'd just mention this since I've seen a lot of adhd wwx.

Wade Wilson / Deadpool-Marvel

Qualifications:

pansexual who has cancer and [has] chronic pain

Propaganda:

Deadpool is all our favourite mutant/mutate merc with a mouth who suffers from chronic pain and makes others suffer by killing them, he is also pansexual and heartmates with Spiderman (they even have a ~genetically engineered evil~ daughter ~clone~ together)

[mossymandibles]

I'm sure it's all lore that will be revealed in due time, but could you tell us about some of the side effects of consuming the celestial flesh?

I’m definitely not good at working linearly and slow at story plot reveal right now anyway, so happy to answer lol

Also, I wasn’t sure how to gage how much context this answer needed so sorry in advance for the long answer 😭. And cw for graphic descriptions of disease/body horror stuff.

Tl;dr Eating Yvishnir eventually caused evolutionary entropy that sometimes causes horrors.

It’s said that Yvishnir (the body not in the ocean) was a fallen star from long ago, before humanity and the fall of Tartarus(ocean body). The primordials, (Furies and sea dragons) were the ancient fish and birds that fed on Yvishnir in order to sustain their size and godhood and multiply on Earth as its continued keepers. They grew jealous over humanity’s progress and out of fear they buried Yvishnir so humans wouldn’t find it, and hid themselves away. That’s how part of the creation myth goes anyway. Then Tartarus fell and uncovered Yvishnir once again, drawing the primordials out and changing the sea.

So when I say ‘eating the flesh’, I mostly mean the Crux. At first, when Yvishnir was discovered and exposed to the atmosphere, it produced something called Crux which permeated the corpse and oozed from it as a liquid, thought to be a type of otherworldly bacterium or ichor to help it decompose. It caused a sort of explosion of hyper biodiversity/evolution, starting with plants. Here are some examples, mostly some fungi:

Most Humans didn’t really consider eating the Crux of course.

There were a few eccentrics and cults however that started the ball rolling. They would mostly eat it from fungi that had grown around Yvishnir, as well as cooking with it. This caused versions of human evolution, where they began to evolve into the Myce and other species to repopulate as, genetically merging with fungi in order to survive the new world. They’re under the blanket term ‘Hox Strays’, who make up most of Marrowtide and other known civilization islands to this day. There are different variations of these and their mutations have ‘stabilized’ over many generations but that’s another story.

As for Yvishnir, there was a point where the Crux changed its properties, becoming more crystalline. Entropy took over the longer the body was exposed. Even the very insects that were feeding on it began to quickly horrifically mutate and grow. People would say that demons were being birthed from its rotted juices. The Crux began to bring on less desirable effects. Humans classified it as several new forms of horrific diseases ranging from otherworldly prions to the very DNA itself denaturing and mutating.

✨Some outcomes include but are not limited to;✨

>Victims known to have fits of uncontrollable laughter while bleeding from orifices. Several cysts that had broken out on the skin were found to contain bits of teeth, hair and even eyes, like they were growing them.

>Some victims became more beast-like but at the cost of their minds and insatiable hunger for more of the celestial flesh/Crux.

>Victims first described it as a tingling sensation in their chest and extremities. Their blood began to change its molecular structure to be crystalline as well. Cells became shard-like, until their blood eventually hardened completely. It could be seen poking through skin, like they were full of glass.

>Worse still, in a sort of sped up form of the first outcome, they can become a never ending cycle of constantly evolving body parts, growing biomass like cancerous tumors of body parts forever in bloom, eg. growing several hands from your eye or numerous organs. The body can’t sustain this and it pretty much ends in death.

These modern day effects were mostly observed by The Ladder and they determined that Yvishnir was not to be consumed by organisms any longer. In the modern day it is safely contained in Hearth, which is the name of the quarantined citadel outside of The Fever, serving god knows what purpose aside from genetic experiments they’re rumored to be continuing with the remaining crystalline Crux Root.

The primordials felt that those who continued eating the Crux were forsaken, punished for eating the god. They along with others had migrated far, far away at that point, populating the mountains of Zenith and oceans that no one dared to sail through. The body of Yvishnir faded into legends. Even people living within Fever and the isles surrounding it knew less and less about the body as time went on, more focused on surviving day to day.

Their are cases where people have somehow managed to preserve the liquid form of Crux, said to still be procured and preserved when the body was first uncovered and would thus have the least amount of risk involved.

Some people hunt mermaids for the soul purpose of searching the contents of their stomach, to see if they have remnants of Tartarus in them.

With Tartarus it’s all based on theory because no one is able to get down there to see wtf is going on, they only see the results.

[minecraftbookshelf]

MOS.

Would you like to tell us about regional holidays and festives? Whale migration festival? End of Harvest Season? First day of Spring? Do Empires share a big common holiday, maybe like Christmas?

Absolutely

So we have three categories here; canon holidays, holidays I already had in mind, and holidays i figured out while thinking about this ask. We'll go in that order.

There aren’t exactly any universal holidays, but there are some that are fairly widespread.

Canonically we have two holidays, Winterfest and Halloween.

Winterfest is from Rivendell and is their winter solstice celebration. It's primarily centered around communal celebration and gift-giving. There is also a strong religious aspect to it, though that has been a bit more subdued of late given the somewhat awkward situation with the whole "the king is the champion of Exor" thing. (Scott usually presides over the Winterfest ceremonies.) This was also Scott’s favorite holiday growing up. Traditionally the people stay up all night (children usually have varied success with this) and there are bonfires and food. Gifts are usually left to be found, rather than given directly.

Hallowe'en is a mortal celebration, primarily in Mythland. Lately Katherine has taken an interest in it as well and often travels to Mythland to celebrate it. It is also celebrated in Helianthia, the Grimlands, the Crystal Cliffs, Mangrovia, and the Swamp, to varying extents. It is celebrated on the Autumn equinox and involves costumes and pranks and gifts, usually of the edible variety.

-

Some holidays that I already had percolating are…

Solstices and Equinoxes tend to be fairly universally celebrated to different degrees in different places.

The Helianthian harvest festival, which takes place in the fall, usually either shortly before or after Hallowe’en and is their largest holiday. It is primarily celebrated via food and community, with lots of music, dance, and story-teling. People weave crowns and jewelry from wheat and grass and wear them. No other accessories are worn during the celebrations. 

The Church of the Blood Sheep has several smaller observances throughout the year, especially on the solstices.

Pixandrian new year is a major event, when they celebrate the death of the old year and the arrival of the new. This is another “stay up all night” event. The oasis is lit up so bright it can be seen for miles across the desert during this time. Feasts are held and the old year is honored at the vigil. And then they dance and dance and dance until dawn. Pixandria uses a lunar calendar and their new year is the new moon that marks the transition from winter into spring.

The spring equinox is the biggest seasonal celebration in the Overgrown, though the autumn equinox and both solstices are also huge. But they are the Spring Court so obviously, that equinox is their biggest. This is not a safe celebration for mortals. It’s wild even by fae standard, with music, alcohol, and hunting. Mortals straying too close tend to end up hunted. The Helianthian border villages will celebrate this equinox during the day, but they lock their doors tight that night.

There is a late summer observance in the Swamp centered around the slime harvest.

Rivendell has a sheep-shearing festival in the late spring.

-

Some that I thought of because of this ask…

The Ocean Empire is primarily in warm waters so they don’t actually see whales most of the year but I really do like the idea of the towers being in sight of a whale migration highway and that being one of their major seasonal observances. It would also be a hunting event, though they probably would only hunt one or two. A single whale goes a long way towards sustaining a community. When they first were establishing themselves at their current location it was probably only one whale but they have enough people now they might go for two or three. They wouldn’t need more than that most likely because they have trade-routes and established infrastructure for food.

Mezaleans celebrate the spring equinox around the mother tree. This is when the annual coming-of-age ceremony is held there. People travel into the capitol from all over the mesa for it.

-

There are more of course, smaller region observances especially. But this is a good collection I think! Thank you for the ask!

[stropharian-world]

It's about time I finished his character info.

I've been drawing this puppy for two years (wtf how?!) and I keep on delaying his development, but now my boy is growing and needs some proper attention from my pencil. Besides, I have way too many stories in my head and those need to come out.

Open Flesh Rick's Info Dump under the cut (long text):

Open Flesh Rick (derivative from band name) / OF Rick

This Rick never got around to discover Portal Technology. His early adult life was spent living in the garage of kind roommates, and he used his self-taught engineer and chemist skills to produce small explosive devices and recreational drugs, so he could later sell to sustain himself of rent and resources for his experiments, and music gear. 

His main and solely aspiration in life was (and still is) music: he has always wished to be in a band. 

However, in his late twenties he got abducted by an unexpected sudden visitor in his garage: this body hunter, who looked exactly like him but a few years older, didn’t leave him much of a choice but to tase him and bring him to one of the dark labs, possibly non associated with The Citadel of Ricks.

Rick got experimented on, by the hands of a head scientist Rick, who’s main project was to create different ways for Ricks to be able to access portal technology without being reliant on an external device. He got implanted with a bionic portal fluid containing disk, along with several bionic vertebra of his spine, all containing bionic induced portal fuid, as a replacement for his human CSF (Cerebrospinal Fluid). He was brainwashed, and his neural pathways catered to access this new portal technology on command.

However, this experiment got interrupted by an explosion in the building provoked by another Rick’s rebellion’s attack on other Ricks, and after the scientist’s quick get away, Open Flesh Rick was left to die in the ruins of the lab, being nothing more than a vegetable-like failed experience.

Luckily for him, a Birdperson - Birdperson L-355 (aka Blue Birdperson), was doing a low key recon trip there, gathering tech and equipment for their own Birdpeople’s Rebellious agenda, and he happen to find this Rick, unconscious and barely alive. Being kind hearted and naive, he took Rick to his home planet, where his people provided him with care and healing, despite him not remembering anything or being able to provide any recollection of his life.

It didn’t take long for the matriarch of the Birdpeople to consider this human a liability for their planet, because whoever created that technology could easily try to retrieve him at any point - explaining that he could be considered a Person of Interest by both The Citadel / Unknown Organization and the Galactic Federation. 

He was taken to Dimension H-810, more specifically to planet Têrra H-810, for it’s resemblances to Earth, and the lack of GF jurisdiction. Blue Birdperson traveled with him in a shuttle provided by the Bird People, and stayed with him for a while. 

Emotionally speaking, he’s a very confused and traumatized person. Not only for having this unknown technology implanted in him, but because he feels like he doesn’t fit anywhere. His amnesiac status of not knowing who he is nor where he’s from, along with having his CSf partly replaced with the green fluid, making him neurologically unstable, created a such a turmoil in his mind, that left him to seek all sorts of destructive behavior, making him and his new friend Blue Birdperson to quickly drift apart. His personality is unstable, impulsive, and reckless. 

He did manage to keep on playing music, with a bass guitar he created himself. Apparently, and luckily, some of his faculties and intelligence were slowly being accessible by him, and he didn’t waste any time of making use of those - creating and selling weapons in the black market, and playing his nights away. 

Upon the opportunity to join an audition for rock bands, this conflicted with BP’s desire to keep him safe. Rick was supposed to stay low key and out of sight, and BP feared getting into a band and playing at bars would leave him exposed to possible threats, and eventually expose his own people's whereabouts. This created a rupture even further in their relationship, along with BP’s deep traditional customs, making him leave again for his home planet and dimension. 

While trying his luck in his almost non-existent musical journey, he connected with another Birdperson from that dimension, Birdperson H-810. This older man not only had no connection to his people, he despised everything related with laws and the government. And being in a band with his friend mutant Squanchy, their musical interests just hit perfectly. 

This led quickly to a band partnership and romantical relationship. Rick, not knowing who he is, not belonging anywhere, felt safe and comfortable with someone who didn’t care about origins or backgrounds. And so their story together began. 

NOTES: Rick found out his name was Rick Sanchez, due to a reading bio printed in his arm, possibly from the years he got experimented on. He proceeded to black out both his scars and bio tagged arms. 

Against a better judgment, his drugged out and wasted behavior leaves him to perform/ walk around shirtless many times, exposing his bionic portal fluid disk. Birdperson’s laid back behavior does nothing to prevent this, nor is worried of the consequences of this actions.

They have a small shitty one-bedroom apartment, and when they can’t get around to make enough money for it, they’ll sleep wherever they can, often using Squanchy’s music practice storage room to crash. Rick always keeps a small lab station wherever he lives.

It wasn’t until one day, against Birdperson’s desire of Rick to keep himself in the dark and staying who he is, they managed to collect enough credits to access a very shady technology that would resurface his memories of being abducted and experimented on. This would give him confirmation of the real responsible ones for his situation, and possibly his original dimension name.

After this revelation, whenever he gets around it, his focus shifts into trying to discover how to complete the process of the technology he has in him, and figuring out how to access it. 

[leavethemtorot]

you can forget about all the the things you've done (but what about the rest of us?)

Once again talking about cannibalism. A lot of research went into this so I hope yall enjoy

Warnings: Mentions of Cannibalism, uses of bone

Rosie sat there, baskets by her side and fingers braiding rope. Yet even as her body stayed busy, her mind wandered. Thinking of the beans and potatoes that were ready to harvest, of the clothing that needed to be dyed and mended, of all the things that needed to be finished before the chill settled in and began killing the plants. She would have to go help shortly, but until the trades happened she could sit here, braid, and think.

A branch snapped.

The song on her lips that she had barely been aware of suddenly stopped. As she looked up at the potential threat, she smiled. It was only Gene.

“Good morning, Gene. You’re early for once. Maeve hasn’t even come by yet.”

“Hey Rosie, wasn’t expecting you today. Where’s Sarah or David?”

“Resting. It’s going to be one of the last warm days, so there is much to do. I’m turning nine soon which means I must pull my weight.”

She picked up one of the baskets, motioning for Gene to sit before going through what was in the basket. Rope, potatoes, garlic, onions, mushrooms, a few pieces of mended clothing, mushrooms, and a rare jar of pickles. All spread across 3 baskets just for Gene.

“The information and equipment you dropped off was so helpful, David wanted to make sure you got a bit more this time. No blankets or mats are finished yet, maybe in a week or two?”

Gene blinked, shocked by the surprising amount of crops the group was giving up. The cannibals were typically far more stingy with their food, only giving rope, some blankets, and dye in excess. They must’ve really been able to get supplies with the knowledge of the barge shift. 

“I- Thank you Rosie. And pass my thanks to Sarah and David as well. Here.”

She handed over the two baskets he had been carrying. Inside was scraps and coils of hair, paper, bandages, a few pieces of glass, and the hard earned treasure of 3 medical needles. It always paid off to treat the clan well. They had somehow figured out how to grow a few crops despite only rotten food coming onto the Isle and the barren dirt preventing everyone else from growing. Oh sure the Mims had figured out some things, but mainly used them for their drug supply.

There’s a few members who ze had always been glad weren’t deemed as traders or negotiators. Rosie’s father for instance, the Horned King still had a reputation from his actions when the Isle had first formed. People still have the scars and memories of the lives lost. But Rosie? She has only been nice and actually has a head for negotiations. It’s such a shame that unless she leaves she will never realize her full potential.

Rosie’s eyes widened as she suddenly reached into her skirt, pulling out a beautifully carved knife.

“Oh, I almost forgot. This is for you.”

Gene swallowed before plastering on a smile and grabbing the bone dagger. It was long with a heavy point and clearly well crafted, but there was no doubt in cos’s mind that it was made from human bone. It knew distantly that bone made several tools, that they would be sustainable for the group, and when broken could be used for other tools. Ae had even used a bone tool with sie’s father, but that had been animal bone, not- not human.

“Thank you.” The slight hesitation and uneasiness wasn’t entirely missed by the young girl, but she persisted nevertheless.

“You make sure to take care of us, you deserve to be protected.”

She smiled at the other before her head shot in a different direction. The faint sound of someone approaching, someone or something heavy.

“You best be on your way, Maeve approaches. You have tried so hard to not be seen and it wouldn't be prudent to be caught now.”

Gene nodded before standing with all of the treasure’s they had been bestowed with before disappearing into the night. Xe would return within a few weeks most likely seeking new blankets for zir’s ever growing refuges. But until them, per’s trades will be well utilized within her clan.

Rosie could only grin as the sound of a wheelbarrow grew closer. New blood. Or better yet Maeve has brought bodies. Perfect.

[startedwithaseed]

Lettuce!

The first time i encountered lettuce plants going to seed i thought they looked like little palm trees... I was really surprised at how thick and sturdy the stems become when they are left to live out their full life cycle, especially if lots of the bottom leaves are stripped to reveal this woody stem. This is one of the joys of seed saving for me, seeing plants transform (often into relatively monstrous proportions!) and getting to appreciate the plant in a totally different way.

I didn't know at the time that lettuce was comparatively easy to save seed from, with the plants being mostly self fertile with perfect flowers, so there is minimal chance of crossing. The official advice is still to leave several meters between varieties, especially in hotter climates (where insects are more active/abundant? I have no idea), but if that would stop you saving your own lettuce seed for your own use, I say ignore the advice! I had been enjoying the benefits of saved lettuce seed, with the saved Cocarde seed being the most reliable germination in my fortnightly salad sowings that I was overseeing, often out performing much newer, bought in seed. Since I found out it could be achieved without complicated isolation netting and fears of cross pollination, I'd been dying to try it for myself. Just one plant can produce up to 10 grams of seed (that's around 8000 seed!) so it is the gift that keeps on giving. I also feel that most organic lettuce varieties are open pollinated and not hybrids, another plus for ease of mind when seed saving from this crop.

There are 3 main types of lettuces cultivated in the UK-

Romaine or cos lettuces, which form tight heads with long leaves, a typical example being little gem

Head lettuces, which again form heads but can be looser, and include smoother butter head types and more frilly batavia types

Leaf lettuces, which don't form heads and are often more frilly. an example is lollo rossa

They are all within the Lactuca sativa species so could all technically cross with eachother.

Lettuce are surprisingly hardy plants and such a mainstay for UK market gardeners, selling them as whole heads, and as part of mixed salad bags -which I believe are the highest value product for growers, although I have no recollection of where I heard that so can't fact check it! It makes sense in that it is high turnover, and many successions can be grown in a season. I personally find it hard to get too over excited about lettuce, preferring the more showy fruiting crops, and things that can be cooked and preserved in a variety of exciting ways. And seeing that it is often the veg that goes the most to waste (people love to buy mixed salad bags in shops because they look so appealing, but often fail to get round to eating them before they go slimy), it's hard to see it as the most sustainable crop. However I have made a deal with myself to get over my trepidation and finally experiment with lettuce soup this season!

As the stalks elongate and these beautiful heads start forming, the plants will want some kind of support if they are standing alone as this one is, we do have some that seem to be fairing quite well supported by tomato plants either side! I think it is quite common for several plants to die off at this stage, so select more than you think you'll need. Removing lower leaves can help to reduce the risk of rotting/moldy leaves/ slug damage leading to disease.

(A beast of a slug found hanging out under the module trays)

Watch out for flower buds starting to form, when open they almost look like little dandelion flowers, and in fact there method of distribution is the same with fluffy tops forming at full maturity.

It won't be long after flowering (about 2 weeks) that those seeds are mature, however flowers appear at varying times on the same plant so there are different methods of getting as much good, mature seed off the plant as possible. A good method for wetter UK conditions would be digging up the whole plant, roots and all, bagging the roots to stop soil dropping in with the seeds, and in a well ventilated, dry area , hanging the plant upside down in a paper bag (could be a potato sack or similar, just check for holes and turn it inside out so it's clean on the inside). Do this when about 50% of the seed are mature some will continue to mature on the plant and drop into the bag, ensuring a fairly good yield. Alternatively you can always just hand harvest mature seed from the plant as and when they come, with the main stem of the lettuce generally producing the best seed. They are mature when they easily separate from the plant.

Make sure the seed is completely dry before storing in a cool, dark, dry place.

These are just my musings from observations and my experience, as an enthusiast not a professional. My recommendations for deeper dives from the experts -

The seed growers podcast focused on lettuce seed production with Frank Morton

diyseed.org has beautiful videos going into detail on the seed saving process of most vegetables you could think of

realseeds.co.uk are an open pollinated seed company that encourage and have lots of resources on saving seed

[gardigansandkarma]

Travis Kelce Opens Up About Taylor Swift and What Comes Next

Wall Street Journal - Travis Kelce full article under the cut

A few months ago, he was merely football famous. Now Travis Kelce is ready to tell his story. ‘I’ve never dated anyone with that kind of aura about them.’

By J.R. Moehringer

WHEN TRAVIS KELCE was a young man, his college football coach pulled him aside one day and told him the secret of life: Everybody you meet in this world is either a fountain or a drain.

“I need fountains,” the coach growled at Kelce. “I don’t need f—ing drains. Travis, you’re f—ing draaaining me!”

The advice left a deep impression. (“Changed his life,” says one of Kelce’s closest friends.) Yes, Kelce thought—you’re either a giver of the basic wellsprings of life or a thirsty taker. He vowed to be the former. In a world of gutters, be a geyser. 

You think about that story as Kelce drives you around his beloved Kansas City, home of his world-champion Chiefs, for whom he’s the star tight end and arguably the second-most popular player, after his best friend, quarterback Patrick Mahomes. You think about that story on a gorgeous autumn afternoon as Kelce gives you a personal tour of his decadelong history in this city, his singular journey from clueless rook to legend. (“I used to take this scenic route [to the stadium]—there’s just something about seeing the city you’re about to go represent….”)

A different sort of celebrity might be more guarded, might even chirp those big Rolls tires and speed away before someone throws their body across the luminous silver bonnet, but Kelce’s default emotion is this—exuberant extroversion. He likes people. Loves people. Never mind deciding not to be a drain. If people gush at him, he can’t help it, he gushes back. 

Noting all this, you think how fame itself might be a kind of fountain. Some people moan about getting wet, others frolic like kids around a hydrant. You even wonder if this fountain-drain paradigm might be the skeleton key to Kelce, the Rosetta Stone for which half of America seems to be hunting right now. 

Kelce was famous for several years, thanks to his Hall of Fame résumé, his symbiotic relationship with Mahomes, but that was just football famous. This year, after winning the Super Bowl, after hosting Saturday Night Live, after starring in all the commercials, Kelce became inescapable. And that was before—you know. 

People have begun to ask in all earnestness why they can’t turn on their TV anymore without seeing Kelce’s sculpted mug. They wonder, not with snark, but in all sincerity: Who the frick is this guy? And where did he come from? 

You have a TV. You wonder too. So you decide to join the search for answers. One weekend, in the thick of football season, you get on a plane to Kansas City.

BUT FIRST. Back up. Like that knucklehead who threw it into reverse, go back. Before you can take the Travis Michael Kelce Guided Tour, you need to watch him cry. 

Kelce tries to play it off. He launches a sentence, stops. He launches another, again aborts. He paws his eyes with his giant hands and looks to be on the verge of losing it, because if Kelce loves people, what he really loves is his people. 

This whole display takes place on a Monday afternoon at a Kansas City steakhouse, where you and Kelce are having an early dinner. Like, retirement-community early. He’s in recovery mode, healing from dozens of violent collisions sustained during the previous day’s win over division rival Los Angeles, and food is medicine. He can intuit when he’s hit the caloric sweet spot necessary to mend or maintain his 6-foot-5, 260-pound frame (roughly 4,000), and he’s not there yet. So he orders the dry-aged filet rubbed with coffee, Caesar salad (hold the anchovies), a side of “triple-cooked” fries and a glass of water. 

After a long pause, and several Lamaze breaths, Kelce collects himself, apologizes. Can’t help it, he says; those folks who always have his back, who call him by the ancient secret nicknames (Big Yeti, El Travedor, Killatrav, Michael, etc.)—they’re everything. He doesn’t think of them as his entourage; he thinks of them as family, an extension of “Mama Kelce” and “Poppa Kelce” and older brother Jason, the starting center for the Philadelphia Eagles. 

Patrick Bacon, a friend since first grade, says Kelce’s go-to method of winding down after a hard game or long day is to sit with this “core group” around his kitchen island and chop it up. Talk, that’s what nourishes Kelce, not videogames, not bottle service at some club. 

“He loves to talk about the old days,” Bacon says. But it has to be with people from the old days. People who know that Kelce will sometimes dismiss a bad or subpar thing as “buns.” People who know that one of Kelce’s favorite desserts is French toast dripping with whipped cream and syrup. People who know that, growing up, he played every sport in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, and also know the difference between Cleveland Heights and Cleveland proper. You want to break into the Kelce core group? You better have a phone number that starts with 216. 

And yet, you wonder how well his friends really know him, how well he lets anyone know him, because to a person they all say Trav lives in the moment, Trav never thinks about tomorrow, Trav never worries about retirement, despite recently turning 34, making him a Gollum in the NFL, whereas Kelce confesses that he thinks about it nonstop, “more than anyone could ever imagine.” In the same spirit, perhaps, he keeps his own counsel about his round-the-clock physical anguish. “That’s the only thing I’ve never really been open about,” he says, “the discomfort. The pain. The lingering injuries—the 10 surgeries I’ve had that I still feel every single surgery to this day.” 

Kansas City’s longtime tight ends coach, Tom Melvin, says Kelce undersells the pain because the alternative is not playing, and the man will not miss games. “He has phenomenal pain tolerance. He’s played through things that other athletes I’ve coached through the years have not been able to push through. Mentally tough—way off the charts.” 

Kelce’s trainer and physical therapist, Alex Skacel, says there’s not a single day, in season, when Kelce stretches out on the training table and doesn’t have some gruesome bruise. What few realize, however, is the insane number of scratches. Guys claw each other out there, Skacel says; it can leave Kelce’s epidermis striated with crimson. To bounce back after such abuse requires more than basic therapy. Kelce and Skacel use a battery of esoteric treatments, from cupping to dry needling to occlusion therapy: essentially tying off a limb with a tourniquet while Kelce works out. Kelce also adheres to a pregame regimen of anti-inflammatories, which he doesn’t like to discuss because they “have a history of affecting people’s insides.” 

“There were definitely people she knew that knew who I was, in her corner [who said], ‘Yo! Did you know he was coming?'” Kelce says about how he initially found his way into Taylor Swift’s orbit. “I had someone playing Cupid.” Loewe coat, $4,990, Loewe​.com.

IF KELCE BROODS on life without football, one reason is that he had an excruciating sneak preview. A redshirt sophomore at Cincinnati, he got booted off the team for smoking pot. In a blink, he lost everything—his purpose, his meaning. “It was like my life was over.” 

He also lost his scholarship. He had to get a job. The best one he could find was at a telemarketing firm, doing healthcare surveys. “Eye-opening,” he says, bowing his head.

Cold-calling people in southern Ohio, northern Kentucky, eastern Indiana, asking what they thought of Obamacare, taught him a lot. (“Uh, sir, I ran out of the comment box, I can’t write anymore, we gotta kind of keep this moving.”) Above all it taught him that he didn’t want to ever do that again. 

He probably won’t have to. He’s got options. Sometimes he sees himself in a broadcasting booth. Sometimes his manager talks about action flicks. (Maybe a Marvel movie? Kelce’s already built like Wolverine.) You also get the sense that Kelce toys with notions of doing some form of comedy. He haunts clubs, lives for open-mic nights, and he’s gotten to be friendly with several rising stand-ups.

At the moment, of course, the only thing millions of people want to know about Kelce’s future is whether or not it will include Taylor Swift. And the second thing they’re dying to know is how he and she got together in the first place. 

Did he sit in a dark room and say Jumanji three times? He laughs. “I don’t know if I want to get into all of it,” he says, and then he gets into it, because fountain. 

It all started when he tried to meet Swift at her Arrowhead concert in July and got blocked, presumably by security. He then recounted the experience in a charming way on the podcast he does with Jason. Soon after, he says, he received an unbidden assist from inside Team Swift. 

“There were definitely people she knew that knew who I was, in her corner [who said]: Yo! Did you know he was coming? I had somebody playing Cupid.” He wasn’t aware at the time, however; the revelation only came later, after he looked down at his phone and got the shock of a lifetime. “She told me exactly what was going on and how I got lucky enough to get her to reach out.”

He lets slip that some of his early helpers were part of the Swift family tree. “She’ll probably hate me for saying this, but…when she came to Arrowhead, they gave her the big locker room as a dressing room, and her little cousins were taking pictures…in front of my locker.” 

Understandably, he’s not handing out details about the first date, though he will say that he managed to not be nervous. “When I met her in New York, we had already kind of been talking, so I knew we could have a nice dinner and, like, a conversation, and what goes from there will go from there.” 

If anyone was nervous, he adds, it was his core group. “Everybody around me telling me: Don’t f— this up! And me sitting here saying: Yeah—got it.”

Likewise, his mother. Donna Kelce still berates herself for how she handled a question about Taylor on the Today show. Trying not to sound too enthusiastic, she came off underwhelmed. Kelce, not wanting his mom to feel bad, immediately phoned her and assured her that she did a super job—adding that her green eyeglasses looked great. 

These days, however, with the relationship progressing, Donna feels more at liberty. “I can tell you this,” she says, beaming. “He’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long time…. God bless him, he shot for the stars!”

Kelce seems freer, too. He doesn’t need to be asked about Taylor; he mentions her unreservedly, lavishes praise on her, calls her “hilarious,” “a genius,” notes that they share compatible worldviews, especially when it comes to family and work. “Everybody knows I’m a family guy,” he says. “Her team is her family. Her family does a lot of stuff in terms of the tour, the marketing, being around, so I think she has a lot of those values as well, which is right up my alley.”

One of Kelce’s friends describes a sweet, magical moment, a late-night gathering around Kelce’s firepit. Kelce and Swift looked like two “peas in a pod,” the friend says, and at one point they even burst into a memorable duet of—“Teenage Dirtbag”?

This must be fake 

My lips start to shake 

How does she know who I am? 

Kelce squints into the distance: He’s not sure they were singing…Wheatus. But he allows that his memory might be compromised. 

LONG BEFORE MEETING SWIFT, Kelce was just another Swiftie. In some ways he still is. He explains the concept of her concert—“She does it in eras”—as if you live in a yurt in Outer Mongolia. Then he eagerly informs you that the night he attended, he was counting the minutes until she got to 1989. (Both he and Swift were born in 1989.) “ ‘Blank Space’ was one I wanted to hear live for sure. I could make a bad guy good for the weekend. That’s a helluva line!”

More often than not, he says, it was a Swiftian beat, a melody that captivated him. (“She writes catchy jingles.”) But lately he’s all about those lyrics; he’s scrutinized the breakup stuff. What a miracle, he says, the way Swift can turn life into poetry. “I’ve never been a man of words. Being around her, seeing how smart Taylor is, has been f—ing mind-blowing. I’m learning every day.”

Something he might need to learn from Swift: how to handle the attention. Kelce lives in a quiet neighborhood north of downtown—leafy trees, trim lawns, no gates. There’s now a clutch of desperate-looking dudes with cameras stationed on his sidewalk 24/7. He’s followed everywhere, drones buzzing overhead—it’s stressful, more than he lets on, according to one confidante.

“Obviously I’ve never dated anyone with that kind of aura about them…. I’ve never dealt with it,” Kelce says. “But at the same time, I’m not running away from any of it…. The scrutiny she gets, how much she has a magnifying glass on her, every single day, paparazzi outside her house, outside every restaurant she goes to, after every flight she gets off, and she’s just living, enjoying life. When she acts like that I better not be the one acting all strange.”

Asked if he has anything to teach Swift, he looks shy. He can’t think of anything offhand. 

Football? 

Sure, he says, sounding unsure. 

Of course, the thing she probably wants to learn about most is him. While talking to Kelce you realize all at once that the most avid participant in the national scavenger hunt for clues about his character is likely Swift herself. To that end, Donna says that anyone wishing to understand her younger son would do well to start with her older. Travis “could never quite catch up” to Jason, she says. “He was always just second, just searching to be the best, and never quite getting there.” (The only way in which the two brothers were full equals was appetite. As boys, Donna says, “they would sit down and eat whole chickens.”) 

Others say the key to Travis is simpler than that. He’s basically still the kid who filled his Dad’s shampoo bottle with hand cream. “He just lives his life with so much joy,” Jason says. “He’s always kind of surrounding himself with people who are funny, who have a zest for life; it’s one of the things that defines him.”

Jason recalls many nights in the Kelce family room, the two brothers and mom eating in front of some comedy. “We had one of those coffee tables that the top would lift up and meet you at your face if you were eating,” he says, guffawing. 

Indeed, Kelce has warned Swift that she’s going to have to reckon with this part of his personality. Adam Sandler, Chris Farley, Will Ferrell—they will all be a part of the relationship. “I told Taylor that I have that world, I’ve got to introduce it to her. I let her know: This is my jam right here.” (Kelce does an uncanny imitation of Farley’s dorky baritone, and the ringtone on his phone is Farley primal screaming: For the love of GOD!) 

If the past is any prelude, this will register like an 8.0 earthquake among Swifties. Their queen—screening Tommy Boy? Every new factoid, every new piece of the puzzle, gets eagerly cataloged, investigated, celebrated, especially on “SwiftTok,” a fervent virtual community, according to Brian Donovan, a professor at the University of Kansas who teaches a seminar called The Sociology of Taylor Swift. 

Donovan says several of his class discussions this semester have been given over to No. 87. Swifties make no apology for delving into her relationships, just as Shakespeare scholars like to contemplate the subject of the sonnets. But the deep “vetting” of Kelce, Donovan adds, goes well beyond fans. “I think there’s a public fascination, because it seems like a pure unalloyed moment of joy in the wider context of global wars, deepening political polarization, dysfunction in Congress, an ongoing health crisis. There’s a lot of bad news out there, and this is a common story that everybody knows about and can talk about. I don’t think we’ve had that in American culture for a long time.” 

NOW GET IN THE CAR. Now you’re ready for the Rolls. Or are you? Gawking at the ceiling, you ask, Are those stars? 

Yes, Kelce says. 

You stare in disbelief. Embedded in a leather firmament are scores, no, hundreds—many hundreds—of twinkling lights, a fiber-optic galaxy meant to resemble the larger galaxy in which we’re all floating. For the sake of verisimilitude, the Rolls even produces a shooting star now and then. There was one, just a second ago, Kelce says. “Make a wish. Dreams come true.” 

He guns the engine and steers toward downtown. The Rolls doesn’t drive so much as waft you around Kansas City. The ride is so cush, it almost makes sense, for a moment or two, that the car is worth more than many of the buildings you pass. (A Rolls Ghost, before customizing, goes for nearly half a million dollars.) All of which makes it that much more startling, as you come to the heart of downtown, when Kelce points out his first-ever apartment and shows you the alley door where he’d sneak in and out when he was late on the rent. 

What? 

He’s not ducking landlords these days. Still, he’s grossly underpaid. His $14 million salary, though near the top among tight ends, is half what the league’s star receivers make, and Kelce often functions as a receiver. 

Nothing to be done, he says flatly. The Chiefs know, he says, that he would play for free. They know he loves his city, his quarterback. “Unfortunately, in this business, things gotta get ugly, they gotta get unpleasant [if you want more money], and I’m a pleasant son of a buck.”

Thank goodness for endorsements. At this point, says his co-manager Aaron Eanes, ���the NFL is just his side hustle.” 

Eanes and his brother, Andre, handle much of Kelce’s business life, from investments to marketing, and it was they who widened his investment portfolio, putting him into a tequila company, an energy drink and a chain of car washes. They also steered him into lucrative endorsements, like Bud Light and the Covid vaccine, for which he caught much grief from Aaron Rodgers. The Jets quarterback, out since game one of the season with a torn Achilles, belittled Kelce as a Pfizer shill during one of his Tuesday appearances on The Pat McAfee Show. 

Kelce took the high road then. He’s staying on it now. “Aaron’s always been cool to me,” he says. “I knew he was trying to have some fun. He’s in a situation where Tuesdays are his game days…. So I get it, man, I’ve been injured too…. Who knows what the guy is going through?”

Mary Esselman, Operation Breakthrough’s CEO, says that whenever Kelce visits, he doesn’t bring media and he doesn’t leave until the last kid has felt seen and appreciated. Not long ago, she adds, Kelce sponsored a football camp. Afterward, Esselman asked the children to name the highlight of the experience. 

One told her: “He remembered my name.” 

Kelce drives you past a jazz club he likes, a coffee place he used to frequent. Just recently, he concedes, he could go to a Starbucks in Manhattan without anyone looking twice. Those days seem over. Minutes later, he’s steering past a small airport, where Swift’s plane is often prominently parked these days. 

Is it there now, gleaming in the moonlight? The Kelce eras tour is coming to a close. Left unsaid, but palpable: She’s at the house, waiting. 

The Rolls pulls off the highway, up the hill to your hotel. You thank him for taking so much time, for answering all your questions. As you step out of the Rolls, you turn, ask him one more. 

You ask him if you’re going crazy, or did he really say that thing when you first got in the car? Did he really point to a shooting star in the ceiling of his Rolls-Royce and say, “Make a wish. Dreams come true”? 

He cracks up. 

He did. He said it. 

He’s not running from it. 

What’s more, it might just be true. 

“How do you think I manifest it all?”

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 27 – The Word for World is Forest by Ursula LeGuin

I’ve meant to read more LeGuin for a long time – I read Wizard of Earthsea in elementary school, the Dispossessed a few years back, and several volumes worth of Omelas discourse, but that’s about it – but I’ll be honest; I only grabbed this because I was desperately sprinting through shorter books to catch up to my reading goal and someone recommended it as being reasonably-sized. That said, I’m really incredibly glad I’m did.

The book tells the story of a stable, peaceful world being violently colonized by foreigners with a sharply limited understanding of its ecology and an (at best0 utterly condescending and dismissive attitude towards the native inhabitants. Eventually, all the atrocities give rise to a violent resistance movement among the colonized and, after a dramatic change in metropolitan politics destabilizes the colonial apparatus and several massacres, they force the (surviving) colonists to surrender and leave the world behind. The book ends on a mournful note, with the idea that the violence necessary to defeat the colonists has permanently tainted indigenous society, and the near-utopian idyll of their prior lives is now lost forever.

So! Can you guess that this book was written by an American in the early ‘70s?

But actually it was a fascinating read, if as much as a cultural artifact as as a narrative.

At it’s most basic – one of the two inciting incidents of the book is the Terran government the colonists answer to imposing a bunch of liberal reforms (ending slave labour and punitive expeditions and institutionalized rape, that sort of thing), and then ending up with the colonial establishment being split between a) those who seem honestly confused with why any of the natives have any issues with the continuing colonization, they’re being humane about it now! And b) the ones going full Rhodesian and treating being told to stop massacring people as the greatest tyranny inflicted in the history of mankind. All very authentically late-20th century.

The representation of Terran culture was an intriguing mix of futuristic and totally unchanged, as well. Earth was apparently entirely ecologically fucked and in dire need of organic materials (hence the desperate colonization drive), a prediction that hasn’t aged a day. Race exists, but the categories have gotten scrambled and rearranged, and is only at all salient in the mind of the local bloodthirsty ultracolonialist fanatic, whose sense of terran solidarity lasts exactly up until he needs people to blame (and, given the callouts to the Vietnam war that abound through the thing, not accidental that his intra-terran racism is all directed towards Asians).

Though there’s something to be said for how viscerally unpleasant the head of the villain is to be in. Closest comparison that comes to mind is the Victorian chapters of A Song of Ice and Fire? He’s a real piece of shit.

Something very modern about the conceit that men of all creeds and colours will unite around a grand shared enterprise of brutally oppressing and exploiting ET instead.

Men, specifically, because the Terran colony as we see it is basically drowning in machismo. The only women involved in the enterprise are either mail order brides or sex workers, and I don’t believe any one of them gets a name or more than a line of perfunctory dialogue anywhere in the book. Their whole purpose is, basically, to represent the possible entrenchment of colonialism by the establishment of a self-sustaining population, and then to be massacred to a woman by the Athsheans to avert just that possibility. (The book’s portrayal of warfare is pretty thoroughly unsentimental like that on all sides).

Also an interesting cultural artifact – the fact that the multiple intelligent humanoid species are explained as all actually being human, the result of some prehistoric precusor species spreading the species around different worlds who would then reunite with each other as they reach the stars. I have the strong impression that this was a pretty common trope back then, but it’s one you essentially never see in modern sci fi. Not a clue why, but interesting way tastes have changed.

The Athsheans themselves are interesting as an invented culture, with their mystical and constant dreaming and their odd gender roles, but they also are very nearly the platonic ideal of the whole ‘morally pure noble savage’ archetype. On the one hand, they – with the exception of a few very rare forms of mental illness – even have a concept of why someone might consciously choose to kill another human. They resolve most interpersonal disputes by singing at each other. They live carefully in tune with their natural surroundings, and have no need for plantations or mines or factories. And so on.

And on the other hand – they have no history. The way everyone does things and the way society is structured stretches back beyond the bounds of memory, and the entire world has basically one more-or-less-homogenus culture where every band has the same basic socio-political organization and the same theology. The one sympathetically-portrayed colonial anthropologist call them perfectly evolved for their environment and so stagnant, and one rather gets the sense that he’s supposed to be right about everything except the value judgment. And so the greatest tragedy of colonialism is shown to be the moral corruption of the Athsheans, brutalized out of their prelapsarian dream and forced to become murderous to regain their freedom. It is, honestly, a trope I don’t much care for.

(It’s an idle thought I don’t really know what to do with, but the Athshean concept of gods – dreamers who bring ideas and concepts from the dream and incarnate them in the material world – also kind of reminds me of the Innocences in Disco Elysium?)

Anyway, LeGuin still is a great writer, and this really was a fascinating read.

[investmentassistant]

How to perk up without coffee

Coffee is the go-to beverage for many people seeking a quick energy boost. However, there are times when you might want to skip the caffeine or simply try other ways to stay alert. Whether you're trying to cut back on coffee or just looking for some alternatives, here are some effective ways to perk up without relying on your favorite cup of joe.

Get moving

Physical activity is a fantastic way to wake up your body and mind. Even a short walk around the block can increase your energy levels. If you have more time, consider a quick workout session, stretching, or even a few minutes of jumping jacks. Exercise increases blood flow and releases endorphins, which can help you feel more awake and alert.

Regular exercise also has long-term benefits that can contribute to your overall energy levels. By incorporating activities like running, cycling, or yoga into your routine, you can improve your cardiovascular health, build muscle strength, and enhance your mental clarity. Morning exercise routines, such as a 30-minute jog or a session of high-intensity interval training (HIIT), can set a positive tone for the rest of your day, making you feel more energized and productive.

Stay hydrated

Dehydration can lead to feelings of fatigue and sluggishness. Start your day with a glass of water and continue drinking water throughout the day. Adding a slice of lemon or a splash of natural fruit juice can make your water more appealing and provide a slight energy boost.

Beyond just drinking water, you can stay hydrated by consuming foods with high water content, such as cucumbers, watermelon, and oranges. Herbal teas and coconut water are also excellent choices for maintaining hydration. Remember that your body loses water through various activities, including breathing, sweating, and digestion, so it's essential to replenish your fluids consistently. Aim for at least eight glasses of water a day, and more if you are physically active or live in a hot climate.

Eat a healthy snack

Choosing the right foods can make a big difference in your energy levels. Opt for snacks that combine protein, fiber, and healthy fats. Nuts, yogurt with fruit, or a piece of whole-grain toast with avocado are excellent choices. These foods provide sustained energy rather than the quick spike and crash that sugary snacks often cause.

Additionally, consider incorporating complex carbohydrates, such as oatmeal or quinoa, into your snacks and meals. These carbohydrates break down slowly in your body, providing a steady release of energy. Foods rich in antioxidants, like berries and dark chocolate, can also boost your energy levels by fighting inflammation and improving blood flow. Avoid highly processed snacks that are high in sugar and refined carbs, as they can lead to a rapid increase in blood sugar followed by a sharp drop, leaving you feeling even more tired.

Take deep breaths

Breathing exercises can help increase oxygen flow to your brain and body, making you feel more alert. Try taking a few deep breaths, inhaling through your nose and exhaling slowly through your mouth. This simple practice can help clear your mind and boost your energy.

You can also try specific breathing techniques, such as the 4-7-8 method. To do this, inhale deeply through your nose for a count of four, hold your breath for a count of seven, and then exhale slowly through your mouth for a count of eight. Repeat this cycle several times to help reduce stress and increase mental clarity. Another effective technique is diaphragmatic breathing, where you focus on breathing deeply into your diaphragm rather than shallowly into your chest. This type of breathing can improve oxygen exchange and promote relaxation.

Get some sunlight

Natural light has a powerful effect on your body's internal clock and can help improve your mood and energy levels. Spend some time outside during the day, even if it's just for a few minutes. If you're stuck indoors, try sitting near a window or using a light therapy box.

Exposing yourself to natural light in the morning can help regulate your circadian rhythm, making you feel more awake during the day and sleepier at night. If you live in a region with limited sunlight, especially during the winter months, consider investing in a light therapy lamp. These lamps mimic natural sunlight and can help alleviate symptoms of seasonal affective disorder (SAD) and improve your overall energy levels. Additionally, incorporating outdoor activities, such as gardening, hiking, or simply enjoying a meal outside, can provide you with a healthy dose of sunlight and fresh air.

Listen to uplifting music

Music can have a profound impact on your mood and energy. Create a playlist of your favorite upbeat songs and listen to them when you need a pick-me-up. Singing along or even dancing to the music can amplify the effect.

Studies have shown that listening to music can stimulate the release of dopamine, a neurotransmitter associated with pleasure and reward. Upbeat music with a fast tempo can increase your heart rate and make you feel more energized. Consider incorporating music into your daily routine, whether it's during your morning commute, while working, or during your exercise sessions. Singing along to your favorite tunes can also improve your mood and reduce stress, making you feel more awake and motivated.

Take a power nap

A short nap can do wonders for your energy and productivity. Aim for a nap of about 20 minutes; this is enough time to recharge without leaving you feeling groggy. Avoid napping for longer periods, as this can interfere with your nighttime sleep.

Power naps can help improve memory, boost creativity, and enhance cognitive function. If you have trouble falling asleep quickly, try creating a relaxing nap environment by dimming the lights, using a sleep mask, and playing soft, soothing music. Set an alarm to ensure you don't oversleep, and consider drinking a small amount of caffeine before your nap. The caffeine will start to take effect as you wake up, providing an additional energy boost.

Use aromatherapy

Certain scents, such as peppermint, citrus, and eucalyptus, are known to have invigorating effects. Use essential oils, candles, or diffusers to fill your space with these energizing aromas. A quick sniff of peppermint oil can be especially helpful in boosting your alertness.

In addition to peppermint, consider using essential oils like rosemary, lemon, and ginger, which are also known for their stimulating properties. You can apply a few drops of essential oil to your wrists, temples, or the back of your neck for an instant pick-me-up. Aromatherapy inhalers and rollerballs are convenient options for on-the-go use. Incorporating these scents into your daily routine, whether at home, in the office, or during your commute, can help keep you feeling refreshed and focused.

Stay engaged

Sometimes, boredom can make you feel more tired than you actually are. Keep your mind engaged by switching tasks, trying something new, or taking on a challenging project. Mental stimulation can be just as effective as physical activity in waking you up.

To stay engaged, consider taking short breaks to do something different, such as solving a puzzle, reading a book, or engaging in a creative activity like drawing or writing. Learning a new skill or hobby can also provide mental stimulation and keep your brain active. If you find yourself zoning out during work, try breaking your tasks into smaller, manageable chunks and setting short-term goals to maintain focus and motivation.