#so i can approach it again and limit my interactions until i'm sure my brain will behave

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i'm pretty sure i've cut all content consumption out of my routine now

i don't mean that in the sense of i no longer consume content, i mean i've managed to remove it from routine behaviour

yes i will scroll instagram but it's not the first thing i do on waking until i get through all the posts since yesterday. it's just something i choose to do when i feel like it

yes i will watch youtube but i no longer go through all videos since yesterday from all the channels i'm subscribed to and watch them all or add it to watch later if i can't squeeze it into the day. this was my most recent success so i'm avoiding my subscriptions tab so i don't fall into the hole and am instead looking up individual channel videos to watch for no more than an hour. when i'm convinced my brain will behave i believe i will be able to scroll subscriptions casually and only when i want to.

this used to cause me such trouble because i genuinely saw these things as part of my routine so i'd be over here like man my routine of consuming content is all messed up because i went out for the day with someone i will need to double it tomorrow to fix it so i'm back on track. or i'd be like kinda wanted to do this today but a youtuber i follow uploaded a 2 hour video so I won't be able to fit it in :/

anyway that was trash. now i think i just have routines around food (3 meals a day) and work/study. Everything else is clean and free. I can do whatever I feel like when i have free time. i feel a little lost now but at least i'm no longer spending hours on content consumption when it's not actually making me happy

[rememberwren]

Okay, broke out the laptop to scream in your ear about some things I thought were really special about Skin Deep.

First of all, Simon's characterization. GODDAMN. Like you really know how to write him, how he goes more quiet and brisk the more nervous he is. So, so sexy, the way that Reader doesn't pick up on his vague cues that he likes her, but we alllll know what's happening. Nervous Ghost and don't-care Ghost are so similar, but you managed to convey the tiny details that made it thrilling to read.

The way you wrote him raising and lowering his mask was hot af. I could picture it every time, his little hidey place to help him feel less exposed to the hot girl looking at him with those eyes.

The descriptions of him being efficient and good at what he does -- SWOON. Big man with confident fingers make brain go BRRRRR

The subtle green flags throughout were just lovely. Watching her safely to her car. The way he abandons his usual silence to give her a bunch of info when she's nervous over text. The breaks, the modesty towels. Funny how it's so much more tempting to uncover yourself for someone who helps you stay covered. You just get it, Wren. You just get the nuance of attraction, and it shows.

When he insisted on that break, I KNEW. I LOVE guys jerking off in fics, you know why? Cause that shows they're not coercive. They fully understand that their sexual desire is their own job to manage, and it's just a thing they take care of because we're all adults here. HOT HOT HOT.

The attention to hygiene/contraception was super hot going hand-in-hand with grungy, cigarette loving Simon.

LOVED the part where Reader was trying to entice him to touch, and he wasn't understanding what she meant. That was so cute and funny.

Nipple play, ofc. Surprisingly rare in fics without lactation kink. Extra special to me.

He takes one of your thighs and wedges it between his own, until you’re no longer grinding against his cock but instead his denim-clad thigh. “You the kind of girl who can cum like this? Just from this?” 

This made me stop and paste it in a note for my review, because WOW. I've never read anything like that before. *I'm* not someone who can enjoy that particular position, so every time it comes up in a fic it takes me out of immersion and my thumb is braced to scroll to something farther down that I can relate to. But for some reason, him just being aware of different styles of anatomy and knowing to ask that, allowed me to stay in it.

Three fingers!!! Again, so RARE but (imo) so considerate when writing massive dudes. *I* don't write three fingers very often, because I feel like there's this stigma about it, that no one else shares my feelings that it's actually a helpful option ahead of sex with like a 6'4" dude. So seeing you write it was like... wow. I'm being a lil bitch about this, I should just write what I fucking want, look at Wren, she's doing it.

“Alright,” he laughs, pulling his fingers free and wiping the wetness on his cock. “No need to beg.” 

No need to beg?!? TEARS OF JOY -- this is just so much hotter than the ick I get when they do make Reader (me) beg. Just the zero-pressure interactions here were gorgeous.

The realism of him pushing past the limitations Reader thought she had of her own body was extra special.

The position keeps the penetration blissfully shallow (otherwise he might give your cervix a painful beating)

*pounding my fists on the table* YES YES YES when you're with big dudes, you learn real quick which positions are the best (shallow!!)

His zero-pressure approach to her pleasure, specifically when she says she can't finish a second time and he's just like, “If you can’t, then don’t,” GGHGHDSIODFDOS HOTTTTTT "if it happens it happens, but I'm just going to keep touching you like this for as long as I feel like, okay?" PINNACLE SMUT for me. Elite of the elite.

“Not sure I want you to cum now,” he says. “Hold it. I’m thinking it over.” 

I had to go back and read this like four times because I didn't grasp at first that he was joking. I was just like, "Oh, okay, already doing orgasm control, hmm okay." And then was so confused right after hahahahaha

Aww the asking her out right after fucking is so good and sweet, and a wonderful way to cement his character in everyone's minds.

Just WOW. I'll be coming back for rereads of this.

This ask was such a treasure, YOU are such a treasure. You need to be put inside a safe, a lockbox, behind a tripwire or SOMETHING. I could not find you more endearing right now. Thank you for seeing nuance in this when I felt like there wasn't any. You're an incredible writer and it shows even in the way you read.

[mysticdreamcafe]

Finding my MoJo with some mystic help

I'm going to put this out there...I'm an intuitive empath that loves her crystals and tarot cards. Pendant's, and rune stones.

So after my rows with nature, stress, family, Dr's, and all around ill health (I don't have many Immunoglobulin G's which I call goblin G troup). Thanks to Goblin Gs going AWOL I have been on antibiotics since July of 2023. 2 weeks on these massive combo pills and a week or two off, repeat either till I am antibiotic resistant or I can get the shots to force goblin G troups to join me and fight. Lets not forget inhalers, nasal sprays, pills both herbal and pharma. medications.

I am going to fight with everything I have through 2024 and if there isn't a significant improvement in at least one area I will stop any traditional medical practices I can and try for a more holistic approach.

Especially, after a bout with COVID-19 that took over 6mo to recover from I have learned to deal with energy syphons. You know, the people who make interaction challenging and tedious. I've always been able to gage a room and the people in it but never trusted my instincts. That has changed, I know am trying to trust my first impressions and inner voice now.

I said I'd mention Johhny Depp in this post so here it goes. It's nothing exciting but more annoying from my point of view.

During my "I quit and will just wait to die" moments during the end of 2023 I saw what my giving up was doing to my mother and daughter. That's when I decided to get through the holidays and then make some changes. So my fingers started typing in preparation things like... nutrition, keto, raw diet, balanced, yoga, brain eating itself, replacing white matter, and so on. Each time I searched a topic Johnny Depp showed up in a clip. There'd be a dog, guitar, baby, rants on his divorce, with his son, etc. His clips had nothing to do with what I was researching.

Let me refresh you...I DON'T CARE ABOUT FAMOUS PEOPLE SO i DON'T RESEARCH THEM. Though stuff does pop up occasionally it's not about one celeb over and over. During this time I had looked up why people couldn't leave Keanu Reeves and his girlfriend alone. My daughter brought it to my attention so I searched.

According to computer science if you search a topic either via typing it on a keyboard or verbally asking an AI like Alexa about it. Once you've selected the topic: famous name, raised garden beds, new roofs, dog characteristics, etc. the search engine (bing, google, etc) will flood you with ads regarding these specific topics.

Mr. Reeves plays bass in a band so why was Depp the one showing up?

After a few weeks of Johnny Depp ads annoying the crap out of me I went to bed irritated and with a killer migraine. That is until I remembered...things usually happen for a reason. What is the reason? So I asked Alexa...what instrument he plays, his band name, other members, play some of their songs.

I'll be honest and say the first song didn't resonate with me. I continued for a few more songs and one was an Alice Cooper remix. This brought nostalgia and emotion that I've missed since I stopped listening to music regularly. Migraines and music or any noise don't get along so I opted for quiet.

I asked for Alexa to switch to 80s rock and something clicked.

I've started this blog and not sure how often I'll post since I quit Social medias for the most part...esp FB, to limit screen times. I'm looking into a free course on coding through Stratford U. I have a BA in computers but it's been ages since I've written code or done anything with computers themselves due to illness.

Remember I am writing most things, except this blog, long hand.

Oh I want to say in case one of Johnny's people see this post that I wrote to him to thank him for reminding me about my love of music. I stopped listening again during a rough patch and he started popping up again! I grabbed my headphones and started listening to some Mozart. A day later the pop ups were back to normal.

I received a mass produced photo of him, I don't think he signed it and it was simply printed with photo but the gesture is nice. If one of his people read this tell him that even though we've never met I thank him for helping me out of a dark time via reminding me of my love of music and to keep spreading his energy.

When I wrote Johnny I didn't ask for anything but I just wanted him to know he'd made a difference in some ordinary persons life without even realizing it.

The writing of letters long hand, in cursive, has helped and if anyone wants to pen pal please let me know and I'll set up a PO Box. Assholes need not apply!

Time for a reading and meditation.

May you be grounded and good energy surround you

MV

[sailingintothenight]

“HAPPY.” T.H. Imagine.

Tom meets a little angel and you, her mom.

A/N: After reading some stories about single mom x Tom that were totally adorable, I wanted to write my own story that ended up being longer than expected. I hope you like it, please give it a try. Thank you! (And If you have time, listen to Kim Taeyeon and her song Happy :)

With a long sigh, Tom closes the door to the room and falls to the floor, because the pain on his shoulders is as heavy as the whole world.

The melon-colored walls and wooden flooring gives the hospice a warm touch, but the air in his lungs is cold when Tom takes a deep breath that comes in, trying to find spaces to fill in his soul and empty body. There is no one around him, no paparazzi, no interviewers, no fans screaming his name, no excitement of being a movie star who shines for his talent and charm. His heart beats fast against his chest, like an animal that hit the cage's bars that keeps him prisoner: it is fierce because he is afraid, and he feels as if he were falling into a spiral of madness in complete solitude. His hands tremble because the self-control slips from them like the sand between his fingers, fingers that he uses to brush his somewhat long and wavy hair, pulling on the ends because the pain is a reminder that he is still alive.

"Why are you so sad?"

The world lets him hear a voice that seems covered in cotton candy, as sweet as the 4-year-old (soon to be 5) girl in front of him. Tom blinks, confused, watching the infant's small face and the way her eyes look back at him until it finds his sad soul. Her eyes are dark blue like the calm waters of the sea, blue like the summer sky, alive and full of curiosity behind her long lashes: two hidden treasures that were a gift from her father. But the color of those eyes contrasts beautifully with her chocolate brown hair that falls past her shoulders and her white jacket with bunny ears hanging behind, while a melody is heard from the headphones hanging around her neck, a feminine voice that sings in another language, but whose voice is of a warm color that even Tom can perceive.

"Hello there, angel." Tom smiles feigning courage, and stops being a defeated body on the ground to change his posture and squat to be at the (emotional) level of a girl. "What are you doing here alone? Where is your mum?"

Marley smiles sideways, the corner of her lip curling up as her right eyebrow sinks in with the depth of her thoughts: she's skeptical, because she knows something is wrong with him.

“My mom says that if you smile very, very big, you will feel happy immediately. It is a psych... psychological fact.” Marley struggles to say that word, because she is still 4 years old and her bag of words, as she calls it, is still limited.

Tom smiles slightly, not with happiness because something is pressing on his chest still, but because he’s amazed at the intelligence of a little girl who wasn’t older than 5 years old. And suddenly, a tiny, positive feeling runs through him with a super speed and leaves him as fast as it came, but Tom discovers what it is right away and clings to it with firm hands while his eyes, that are like chocolate, shine with the curiosity of a small child, too.

"Oh yeah? Your mommy must be very smart then.”

Marley shrugs casually.

"She reads a lot." She says it as a fact, and her clasped hands in front of her make her look like someone bigger's action, or so Tom thinks, taking in every detail of her without realizing it. "Would you help me with something? I can't reach the vending machine and I want a yogurt.”

"Oh, sure." He replies, still a little surprised by a baby's choice of words, and soon as he gets up, he feels ashamed of himself as he remembers that vocabulary seemed like a difficult word for him. "I'm Tom by the way. What is your name, angel?”

"Marley. Marley Rose."

Marley smiles at him, throwing her head back so that she can look him in the eye, because Tom is taller than she is. Tom can't help but smile, and can't help but feel the tickle in his left hand as Marley catches his to guide him - which gives him a warm feeling. She leads the way down the hallway that is quiet so late at night, towards the empty living room and to the gigantic machine that is challenging for her and her short stature.

"Marley, where's your mum?" Tom asks again, because although he’s a good person, he can't help but feel concerned about seeing a little girl alone.

Standing next to him, Marley looks at him and the light from the machine makes the corner of her face shine.

"She is with my Grandma. She gave me this dollar to buy something downstairs, but the machine doesn't have chocolate yogurt!”

"No way!" Tom says, speaking a little louder, making a slightly high-pitched voice to imitate her: and it makes her laugh a sweet tune, like the sound that keeps coming out of her headphones. "Let me help you get your yogurt."

Tom takes the bill from her small hand and inserts it into the machine, he presses the number indicated on the screen, and then the machine pushes the yogurt bottle towards the opening at the bottom.

"You did it. Thanks, Tom!" Marley presses herself against his body in a quick hug before reaching her prize, happy.

Tom smiles; he cannot help it when he sees her open her bottle, because she is so sweet, so innocent, and because something is recomposed inside him by feeling the pure aura of a girl who seems to hide in her words, the wisdom of a much older person.

"Come on, angel. Let's go to find your mum."

Marley nods, the bottle still against her lips as her small hand reaches for Tom's, and again, she guides him down the hall to the gray-door elevators on the other side of that floor. But the questions that Tom has in his head disappear the instant those metal doors open under the sound of a ding, announcing the encounter with a person on the other side, a young woman who looks at him under the seconds that seems eternal to him, as if the world had stopped in his favor only to make that moment last more than a few seconds.

"Mommy!"

Marley's voice is even sweeter because she recognizes her mom, the being who gave her life and, who loved her, more than anything in the world. Tom watches you get out of the elevator and it's then that new questions appear in his blank mind, questions that, while are quite obvious, are quite difficult to assimilate.

"Marley Rose Daniels, you had me worried." But you sigh in relief, because your fears leave your body the moment you see her again. At that very moment, it is when you realize who is the young man who is holding your daughter's hand, because you know that he has been walking those hallways for a while, but that is a story for later. "Hi, thanks for taking care of her, please don't think I'm a bad mother."

"No, I could never-" Tom says, and then, he realizes he's speechless: because you look so young, so pretty too, and right there, Tom understand why Marley got such a sweet face. "Don't worry about it."

"That's good. Thanks." You say, slightly embarrassed, and your gaze that falls to the ground meets your daughter's eyes. "You pinky promised me that you wouldn't go away too far, Marley."

"But mommy, there was no chocolate yogurt downstairs." And at that moment, Marley lets go of Tom's hand, her head held high as she approaches you because she is not afraid of you, nor the reprimand that never comes, and instead, her hand takes yours and she looks at you with her warm gaze and her eyes with the color that some considered cold. “Sorry.”

"Stop obsessing over that yogurt."

"Never!" Marley pretends to be upset and frowns, taking a firm stance that makes you chuckle, and that makes Tom chuckle, too, because that interaction between you and her makes him happy when he realizes that you two are only joking, as if you were best friends. "Mommy, this is Tom, Tom, she is my mommy."

And you chuckle again, because, although your name is not mommy, it makes you feel proud to be called that way.

"I'm her mommy, but my name is (y/n)... Daniels." You extend your hand towards him, and a tickle runs down his hand before taking yours.

"Tom Holland."

"I know." You smile, rocking his hand in yours, because his hand is still closed, still intertwined with yours.

"You know? Oh.” Tom chuckle shyly because the movie star title still makes him blush, and is a thought that prevents his brain from noticing that his hand is still taking yours while his heart is still wrapped in the warmth of your fingers tips. "Oh, sorry."

"Don't worry about it." You smile, giving him his past words as you clear your throat, so that your next words don't tremble under your shyness. "Well... I think it's time to go home."

"Yeah." Marley and Tom respond: he, in a whisper coming from between his lips before he can stop it.

You chucke, but pretend not to hear it as you press the button on the wall, the metal doors opening instantly under the usual sound. With Marley's hand in yours, you walk in with Tom behind you, taking his place inside the little spot next to her, but when you try to push the button to the basement parking lot and he, the button to the first floor, your hands meet inches away from touching again, bringing nervous laughter.

"Sorry." You both say at the same time, and the timing makes you giggle again.

But with the floors selected, the doors close and your chest clenches painfully, as if the closed doors cut off the air that you can still breathe.

"Don't be scared, mommy." Marley says sweetly, but her hand on yours gives you courage.

"Thanks, baby." And when you look up, Tom is too slow to take his eyes off of you, and they reflect the question you can easily see in his tender gaze. "I'm scared of elevators."

"It's okay." Tom smiles, as if he wants to give you courage, too. "We'll be out in a sec–"

But his words are cut off like the lights that suddenly go out when the elevator stops abruptly, giving way to the emergency lights that only project their light on your most absurd fear after seeing so many accidents on television. Your throat closes painfully, as the air becomes hotter than normal, and for a second, you stay where you are, your hand holding your daughter's as Tom approaches the wall to press the emergency button.

"It must be because of the rain." He says, in an attempt to keep you calm. "Don't panic, the lights will come back in a moment."

"I hope so." You whisper, suddenly weak, fearful.

"Don't be scared, mommy." Marley hugs you, and her small hands cling to the side of your body, like the heat that she shares with you as the courage she gives you to keep you calm. "But can we sit down? I'm tired."

"I'm so sorry, honey, you should be asleep by now." You say and take the bottle of her hand, sitting on the floor and placing yourself in a comfortable position so that she can sleep on top of you.

"Tom, come, sit next to us." She says, and Tom smiles, and although he feels shy, he sits next to you against the cold ground. Protected by her mom's heat, Marley smiles, her head resting at your chest height, and she hides her eyes behind her eyelids that close with the fatigue that her small body can no longer bear.

"She's beautiful." Tom whispers after a few seconds later, and his gaze stays fixed on yours so you can see that he's serious, and that he's somehow, he’s talking about her inner beauty, too. "She's really smart too."

"Thank you." You whisper back, maintaining somehow, the pleasant silence. "I do my best to raise her, I really do, but sometimes I feel like she raises me."

Tom smiles.

"She told me that smiling makes you happy, that it was a psychological fact. I didn't know that such a little girl could pronounce that word. I can't even say vocabulary.”

You chuckle.

“She is 4 years old but talks like a woman sometimes. And when she talks to my best friend on the phone, I swear they can talk for hours. I think it was not a good idea to teach her what Kpop was, because they both don't stop talking about it. Sophia even bought her an Ipod.”

"Oh yeah, I totally understand you..." Tom says, feeling a strange joy at noticing that you have one thing in common. "Danielle, my mate's girlfriend is crazy about kpop too.”

"Yes, I know..." You sigh, relieved to be accompanied in the dark situation. “It looks like we will be here for a while so... Yogurt?"

Your outstretched hand holding the bottle makes him see you're serious, and Tom smiles unable to refuse the gesture, so he takes it, his fingers brushing yours along the way, giving it an electrifying feeling.

"Wow..." He says after drinking a little. “I get why Marley is so obsessed with this. This is really good!"

You smile, and something inside you breaks: setting aside the pain, maybe it wasn't a bad idea to have moved to London.