#went back to bed bc i physically can't even sit rn

[daz4i]

hi. i am in so much pain i feel like I'm gonna throw up. how's everyone doing today

[babybluebex]

Hey I love ur writing 😭💕 I was wondering could u write a fic for Joby Taylor where he sees you at a bar with ur friends and wants to take u home (which u do bc duh it’s fuckin joby) :P I feel like joby would be so good in bed.

i finally wrote this lol it's a bit of a fade to black situation bc i can't be assed to write a full smut scene rn

You typically didn’t go for guys like him. You yourself were pretty clean-cut and you usually went for guys that were the same way, but your friend’s elbowing and nudging and whispers of “The singer’s so hot” couldn’t be ignored. She was right after all; the singer was hot. He was the kind of hot that made your stomach turn and your legs tingle, especially when his dark hair fell into his eyes as he sang. You didn’t want to admit how hot he was, though, and you clapped as the band finished their song. 

“Thanks for coming out,” the singer said into the microphone. The venue wasn’t huge, just an average-sized bar, and you hadn’t even intended to see the band perform. You and your friend Chelsea had only meant to meet for drinks after work, and the band got onstage as you finished your second glass of wine. The crowd that did seem to come for the band had dwindled since the start, people much more alternative than you’d ever think to be, and you watched the singer turn and say something to the guitar player. The guitar player nodded, and the singer returned to the microphone. “We’ve got one more song tonight, this one’s… It’s called For Ellen.” 

It was a slower song, still as rock as the other ones, and you watched him as he grabbed the microphone and wet his lips. He looked out at the crowd as the guitar intro played, and you fell breathless when his eyes seemed to lock on you. There was no way he saw you, though; you were in the very back of the venue, sitting at the bar with Chelsea. You had almost successfully convinced yourself that he was just looking in your direction, and then he winked one of those dark eyes at you. 

“Jesus Christ,” Chelsea said. “Did he just wink at you?” 

“Apparently,” you mumbled. “I don’t think it was at me, I think it was… I don’t know.”

“I think he did,” Chelsea said as he began to sing. “Are you gonna try to talk to him after the show?”

“Fuck that,” you laughed. “If he comes and talks to me, sure, but I’m not fuckin’ going to him.”

“Think you’ll fuck him?” Chelsea asked, and you laughed again, this time at her audacity. 

“I don’t plan on it,” you said. “But, like I said, if he comes up and talks to me, y’know. Whatever. We’ll see what happens.” 

The conversation ended there, and you finished your drink as you watched the band perform. Everyone was stellar at their roles, the guitarist and drummer and bassist all talented, but the singer drew your eye more than anything. He wore black jeans that didn’t quite fit his slender frame, with a white belt that did little to actually do its job, along with a white tank top and a black hoodie. The stage lights glinted off of the necklaces earrings he wore, and he continually pushed the same strand of blackish-brown hair behind his ear. You couldn’t see him well enough to discern an eye color or much of anything else about him physically, but Chelsea was right: he was hot. He was a good singer too, singing about someone that he loved and lost, likely the Ellen that the song was named after, and you made a note to compliment his voice, if he did in fact come up to you after the show. 

The song ended and he finished his singing, and the bar clapped as he did a little half-bow. “We’ve been Snake Trouble,” he said. “Thanks for coming out tonight, we appreciate it.” 

“Snake Trouble,” you echoed as the singer hopped offstage. “That’s a shitty band name.” 

Chelsea shrugged. “You should tell him that,” she said. “He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned, turning back to the bar. “Here we go.” 

You felt his presence next to you, and he quickly called out to the bartender: “Can I get another PBR?” Then, you finally turned and looked at him. He was much taller than you anticipated, and you smiled when you found him already looking at you. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said. “You like the show?” 

“It was good,” you nodded, sipping at your wine. “Not what I usually listen to, but it was good.” 

“That’s cool,” he said, and he exchanged money for the brown beer bottle that landed in his hand. “There’s something about live music, y’know? Makes you rethink what you like and know.”

“For sure,” you said. “I really liked that last song, For Ellen.”

The singer nodded and took a drink, and he said, “Yeah, it’s… It’s one of the more personal songs on our record. S’bout my daughter.”

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s sweet. How old is she?” 

He watched you for a moment, just long enough for you to gauge the green-brown hues of his eyes, and he shook his head as he laughed humorlessly. “I’m not drunk enough for that yet,” he said. “What’s your name, babygirl?” 

Usually, you would have protested to the nickname, but the way his voice dripped like sweet honey, his mouth situated in a half-smile, made you swallow down your protest. Damn Chelsea, she had you clocked from the start. If he wanted to fuck, you’d agree. You told him your name and, when he repeated it, testing it out, you swear that you had never heard your name said so beautifully. “I’m Joby,” he told you. 

“Joby,” you echoed, pulling the same stunt that he had with you, and you watched his back straighten as your lips wrapped around his name. Joby. It was a good name. “Nice to meet you, Joby.” 

“Nice to meet you too, babygirl,” Joby said. He took another sip of his beer, and he grunted gently before he swallowed, wanting to keep your attention during the silence. “I’ve never seen you around here before.” 

“I typically don’t go to rock shows,” you told him. “Or bars. But, y’know, a hard day at work, we need a drink.” You looked over at Chelsea, only to find her out of her seat, leaving it empty. “Jesus, where’d she go?”

“Oh, your friend,” Joby said. “Yeah, she’s over at the stage, talking to James.” You turned again and found your friend exactly where Joby said, sitting on the edge of the stage and flirting with the guitar player. You silently cursed at her for leaving you alone, but you turned back to Joby quickly. 

“Guess that gives us some alone time, huh?” you said, and laughed when Joby nodded enthusiastically. “Anyway, how do you know that I don’t come here often? Do you keep a tally of all the chicks that come in?”

“Only the ones worth keeping track of,” Joby said with that same half-smile as before. “And you fit the bill.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Well, I hate to tell you, but I’m not really worth keeping an eye on, especially your eye.”

“Why not?” Joby asked, his eyes narrowing playfully. 

You hummed for a second, thinking, and you said, “Because I think your band name sucks,” you replied. “Because I’m not really your type and you’re not really my type either.”

“My band name sucks?” Joby repeated, and you smiled as you nodded. 

“Snake Trouble? I mean, come on,” you sighed. “It sounds like you found a band name generator online and went with the first name it gave you.” 

“Alright, alright,” Joby said. “So, you hate my band. No trouble, baby. You did say you liked the last song, though.”

“It was the only one I liked,” you shrugged, and Joby feigned offense, his mouth opening and eyebrows furrowing. You laughed at him, and he dramatically put down his beer bottle. 

“I can’t believe this!” Joby gasped. “The hottest girl here hates my music! This is— What a tragedy! I can’t believe it!” 

“Whatever, calm down,” you smiled and took a sip of your drink. “I thought you looked hot, so that’s what matters.” 

“But you just said I’m not your type,” Joby argued, and you sighed.

“Being hot and being my type aren’t mutually exclusive,” you said. “I can appreciate that you’re an attractive guy and still not want to fuck you. That’s the only reason you came over to me anyway, right? To try to get in my pants?” 

“Fuck, you’re good,” Joby mumbled, rubbing his jaw in faux-defeat. “Yes, okay. Maybe that was the only reason I came over here, but, now that I’m here, I just like talking to you.” 

“Bullshit,” you replied, and Joby laughed. “Alright, let’s pretend I was into you. What would you do next?” 

“Okay,” Joby said, taking a drink of his beer and setting the bottle back on the wood top bar. “So, if you were into me, next, I’d ask you if you knew how to play pool, and you’d say you didn’t, and I’d insist on teaching you.” 

“So, do it,” you said. “Teach me.” 

“It’s less teaching and more just shoving my dick into your hip,” Joby admitted, those green eyes flashing with mischief, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I’d kiss you at some point, and by that time, you’ve been in my arms and felt my dick, and you’d beg me to take you home.” 

“Joby,” you said. “Teach me. It’ll lower your ego to strike out, you could do with a smaller ego.” 

“I don’t strike out,” Joby told you as he helped you down from the bar stool, his hand pressed flat against your back. “I’ve had more wins than losses.”

“Whatever,” you said, and you let Joby lead you to the pool table. Truthfully, you had no idea how to play pool, and, while you didn’t exactly intend for Joby to actually teach you, you would go by your own philosophy that it would be good for him to be brought down a few pegs. The table was unoccupied, the small crowd in the bar focused on other things, and Joby retrieved a pool cue from the wall.

“You ready?” he asked, holding out the cue to you, and you sighed. 

“Alright, I’ll be honest,” you said. “I actually don’t know how to play pool. You legitimately need to teach me.” 

Joby did that half-smile of his and rolled his eyes, and he said, “Alright. Just so you know, that’ll make it harder for you to say no to me.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” you told him. “C’mon, do your little shtick, let’s see it.” 

“At least pretend like you want it,” Joby said under his breath, and he was quick to press himself against your back, his hands gliding along your arms until he had you fully enveloped in his arms. “You hold the cue like this, okay? And…” He took a step forward, pressing himself fully against your back, and your breath hitched when you felt him against your ass, already deliciously hard. “Lean forward a little, so you can actually shoot, y’know.” 

“Jesus,” you giggled, and you instantly hated yourself for it. It was such a cliche thing to do, especially when you were supposed to be resisting his charms. You weren’t actually impressed by the feel of his hard dick pressing against you, were you? “It doesn’t take a lot to get you started, does it?” you added, hoping to play off your involuntary reaction as part of the ribbing. 

“Well, not when I’ve got such a pretty girl in my arms,” Joby chuckled, and you flushed at his words. “Oh, you like that? When I call you pretty?”

“At least we know you have good taste in women,” you said. Even though you were trying your hardest to laugh him off, he had you cornered. You really didn’t like him, did you? Was it just because he was hot? That had to be it. 

“Good taste, huh?” Joby said, and he smiled. “I bet you taste good.”

“Oh, creative word play,” you scoffed, but his arms held onto you in a way that made you feel weak in the knees. It was getting harder and harder to resist him, but you had to keep your wall up, at least for just a few more minutes.

“Would you let me?” Joby asked, those big green eyes widening as he titled his head curiously. 

“Let you do what?” you asked coyly, and Joby sighed. 

“You’re making me work for this, aren’t you?” he laughed in amusement. 

“The fun’s in the chase, right?” you offered, and you finally broke free of his grasp, pushing the pool cue fully into his hands. You started to move back to the bar, to your drink and seat, and you cast him a look over your shoulder as you settled back on your stool. 

“I thought you said that you didn’t want to fuck me,” Joby said as he siddled up next to you, grabbing his own beer back. 

You shrugged. “Maybe the tide turned,” you said. “Try me.”

Joby licked his lips and bit his bottom lip for just a moment, examining you, looking you up and down. If it was ten minutes ago, you would have hated how obviously he was checking you out, but it was just part of his charm now. The hot, greasy singer from the band was totally into you, and you just might be into him too, as long as he didn’t fumble his offer. Finally, he released his lip and moved closer, pressing himself right up against you, and he brought his mouth just inches away from your ear. “I wanna take you home,” he whispered, and you shivered as his hand snaked up and down your thigh, his finger lingering deliciously. “I’ll eat your pussy, see if you taste as good as you look.”

“And you’d fuck me?” you asked, and Joby nodded. 

“Oh, babygirl, I’ll fuck you,” Joby whispered. “I’ll fuck you so hard that you won’t even remember my name. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow, you’ll just be all weak and pathetic and begging for more. So… How about it, sugar?” 

“Damn!” you exclaimed. “I wanted so bad not to want you, but… You drive a hard bargain, baby.” 

[horce-divorce]

man. so. i've been doing REALLY well mental-health wise since i moved back to michigan. in the past 2 years i even started sleeping regularly and established a bit of daily routine

but my routine is messed up rn because i had to stop smoking weed. i chose to for my EEG in a month but also bc i'm out of money lmfao. and i would maybe even be able to function w/o weed if it wasn't for the ARFID. but my life and my nice new routine is falling apart now bc i went off my meds and, predictably, i cannot eat! and I am. frustrated. I just need to vent :^)

cw for talk of food/ED & neuro issues

without weed, it takes me so long to eat even 1 apple, sliced as if for a child (usually 1.5 hours), that i have to devote my ENTIRE day to making sure that i'm getting enough calories to even sort-of function. because if I only eat "what I can" I will only be eating about 500cals a day, i will start barfing, and I will end up in the ER. it's happened multiple times before.

so my routine is all wack rn. i wake up at like 8:30, I work on a carnation shake from about 9:30-10:30. around 11 I slice up some fruit and work on that until about 1pm. i have to watch tv while I do this bc otherwise I'm too focused on how the food feels and I will have a panic attack. this esp is fucking me up bc for the last 2 years I mainly watched TV at night (easier to get immersed and then go to bed then walk around all day still being immersed. is that an adhd thing?? idk)

anyway by the time i'm done w my apple it's time to think about lunch, and that also takes me several hours to complete, and by then, it's time to think about dinner, and at that point I still probably have not eaten even 500cals. and i havent gotten anything else done in the meantime (like art, or transcripts, or whatever) either because it hurts too much to sit at the desk, or because I can't eat and focus on a task at the same time (I hyperfocus, the food will go uneaten). or both.

normally I eat smaller meals/snack thru the day, then eat 1 large meal at dinnertime, but I literally physically cannot make myself do that without weed anymore.

and like, neuro didn't tell me I need to stop smoking weed for my procedure, I took it upon myself to do that bc I want them to have the data. and my counselor said now's a good a time as any to quit if I'm out of money, because when they DO ask you to stop smoking for a procedure, it's usually like, 6-8 weeks out or something.

like, technically can I survive on less than 500cals a day for a month? probably, but I really don't wanna find out?? I don't wanna live like that??? i've been losing weight like crazy and NOT in the Cool Good For You kind of way, in the "shit I already needed to replace my clothes bc transition and now this and I HAVE NO MONEY" kind of way.

i did request an appointment w my pcp about my stomach after calling the nurseline (hopefully they get back to me tomorrow). but I feel like they're just gonna refer me to a gastro. and that's gonna be another indeterminate wait for someone to look at. and idk if i can continue to not use weed that whole time. like idk if I can stand it. i cant fucking live like this I'm literally suffering and can't do my work or anything.

idk maybe like, i can stop smoking just a week or two before my EEG and that might be ok? so that I wont fucking starve in the meantime??? :( REALLY hope the next gastro isnt such a dissmisive ass hole like my last one....

[mymagnificentself]

good day

so technically its the first day of school today, but we went on a choir + symphony orchestra trip (to practice) for one night so for me school doesn't start until Wednesday c:

and today has been really really fun, im wearing all my new clothes (without binder even bc they're so baggy you can't even tell anyways) and my new snek bites (which are doing great btw) and my new hair (i dyed it black except for one streak and am wearing it back now) and my voiCE which has gotten even deeper since i got the shot

and just all of that makes me feel so amazing and so happy with myself, and singing with all the guys was great too (although i am now struggling to get some of thw reaally high notes which is kinda amazing bc thats never happened before but also kinda annoying amd frustrating if you wanna sing shit but are physically incapable of doing that)

and i made myself talk to people and bond with them and stick around and i actually genuinely eNJoyED it amd felt like i was part of the group and not some alien waste of space

and i think i am actually quite good at talking to people and having conversations and being at least a little funny now, which no doubt has a great deal to do with the confidence i got from taking t

but so i was just sitting in a room with s bunch of people and we talked and ate snacks and it was fun c:

we didnt end up doing to any "party" of drinking extravaganza some of the others might be having, but one step at a time :p

but yeh, also the place were staying at is pretty dank, im in a double room on my own (bc my bestie couldnt make it bc of her dog) and every room has its own bathroom which is GREAT bc then i dont have to deal with gendered toilets and shit like that c:

also the room itself is pretty cozy and theres a good amount of space, the blanket on the bed is properly thick and warm which is like soooo gooood when its so coooolld out brrrr and the pillow is also really nice, also the food we got was quite good and the view is beautiful

so all in all, really great place, had a fantastic day (despite a few hiccups) and am feeling pretty happy about everything in life rn c:

(although i could do with a pretty boyfriend and less school things so think about but pffffff)