this probably makes me sound really pathetic

excuse me...

i have these moments where i just hear something by taylor or read about something she’s done and there’s a part of me that wants to be calm and relaxed but this other part of me always wins and i end up an ugly crying mess because of her and that’s where i am right now. i have no idea why ive been feeling the way i have lately but the second i heard that old Untouchable performance all of the tears and all of the feelings just like……..,.,,,,,,,,,… made me crumble???? i still spend some days wondering how someone as sweet and generous and hard working as taylor ends up getting her name dragged through the mud when literally all she wants to do is make people happy as much as she can whether it’s with her music or just her presence. i dont understand. im so lost like can someone draw a map for me because we’ve all practically watched her grow up and be so many different versions of herself. from the awkward dork to the strongest she can be in the spotlight and then there’s the sweet little fairy and you just know that no matter what version of her she’s being, she’s trying to be human and she is. it’s so hard to remember this with celebrities because we put them in these glass cases never to be touched but left to fade from the camera flashes like these priceless masterpieces. but there’s a reason it seems so easy to imagine yourself stopping at starbucks for coffee after a day of shopping or drinking wine on a roof and spilling secrets like…..she’s so real. she is actually like,,,,,,not just a concept, you know? i wish there were more people like her and i wish there were more of her in me. it used to be this thing of like wishing i was in her position (because c’mon like who doesnt want to be talented, rich, and beautiful) but now i find myself wanting to make other people’s days a little better somehow, everyday. it’s that chain reaction situation that makes her such a great person because the more good you put into the world, the better it gets and it’s such a terrible place so the smallest things make it just a little easier to live in and i dont know. she’s such a bright light. i find myself listening to her more and thinking of her when she’s not around and it’s not a painful ‘i miss you’ anymore it’s more like a safety blanket, remembering days when i began to pay attention to her and nights when my mom wouldnt know what to do when i cried about just one line in her songs. i sound so pathetic right now but i really love taylor swift and honestly days like today where i feel like im on an island and no one can hear or see me, somehow she makes me feel like it’s more of a vacation from the outside world than isolation. idk but like……taylor swift was a very good idea.

anonymous asked:

Sprace Hunger Games AU?

I’ve had this prompt for a while and I wasn’t sure how to make it work but I finally had an idea so I hope it’s okay that it took so long, I’m sorry!

Disclaimer: I haven’t read the HG books in years so if something is factually inaccurate considering that canon, please let me know 


Statistically, this shouldn’t be happening. Spot was well aware that the Games never dragged on this long, in all his meticulous research and by his rough approximation of time passing in the Arena, they were three days over the longest running year. Three of them had made it as far as that morning, two had lived through to night.

He still wasn’t sure how the last girl had died. The canon had sounded a few hours before sunset and, as always, the projection of the fallen had shown only her face and her district. Spot vaguely recognised her but he couldn’t have put a name to the Tribute.

So now it was just him and Race. He’d have been worried, because in past Games this had meant a fight to the death for victory, but the boy in question was currently using his chest as a pillow and tracing random shapes over his abdomen through his clothes, so he wasn’t too concerned. Of course there was every chance that Race was a really good actor and was just waiting for the right moment to take him down, but Spot had decided it didn’t matter either way. He couldn’t see a path that led to them both getting out of this alive and didn’t want Race’s death to be the cost of his victory, so he wasn’t going to do anything. They’d both decided just to wait it out and see what happened. No self-sacrifice. No suicide pacts. 

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CHRISTOFFER SCHISTAD IMAGINE — PART 2

A/N: sorry if this sucks, feedback is still highly appreciated! also sorry that this took a long time to publish, been busy with stuff. i hope you like it! x

word count: 1,317

PART 1, PART 3


Monday came along much faster than you anticipated, much to your dismay. Mondays were the worst even if you weren’t hungover.

When you reached the school, you quickly walked over to her locker so that you could get ready to go to class. You tried to open it, but it was stuck. Typical.

”These lockers really need to be fixed” you said under your breath.

You hit the locker, hoping that it miraculously would open. And it worked. You probably looked like an idiot, smiling there to yourself in front of your locker but you didn’t care. You had managed to open it up yourself, without Isak’s help this time.

”Hi there. You know, I was pretty upset when you ignored my dm to you on instagram the other day.”

You turned around, only to see it was Christoffer. She rolled her eyes, going back to what she was doing previously.

”Where did you get my instagram?”

”Your little friend gave it to me. I think her name was Valde? No idea, still doesn’t explain why you ignored me.”
Damn you Vilde.

”I don’t check my dm’s, usually unimportant people contact me there. My point has now actually been proven, so thank you for that.” Y/N said, before continuing ”And her name is Vilde.”

”Oh, I guess you have to give your number so that we could talk?” Chris said, a smirk plastered on his face. You wanted to wipe that smirk off of him. Or slap. Either one would probably feel equally as good.

She slammed her locker closed, before turning to Christoffer.

”Yeah, we’ll see about that Christoffer. I actually have to go to class, so if you don’t mind?” You said, before pushing him aside and making your way to the classroom.

”That was quite rude don’t you think, princess?” Chris

”No and please don’t call me princess.” Y/N said, not bothering to look at him.

”Oh, you don’t like it? How about sweetheart or babe?”

You stopped, now looking at the boy. A smirk appeared on his face, taking his bottom lip between his teeth making you roll her eyes. The boy is probably always thinking with his dick.

”Yeah, sounds really fucking amazing. I do hope you realize that no matter what you call me I won’t hop on your dick and be head over heels. I actually find it funny that you’re running after a first year student who’s not even interested in you when there’s loads of other girls who would do anything to sleep with you, which is quite pathetic. That being said, I have to go to class.”

You quickly walked away from him, making your way to class. This time Chris just let her go, chuckling a bit at her words. He had no idea what was so fascinating about Y/N, but he just knew he had to get her.

When you reached her classroom (in time, even with that whole Chris thing), you desperately searched for Vilde, only seeing that she was already sitting next to Noora. You sighed softly, sitting next to Sana flashing her a small smile whilst doing so.

Sana looked at you, before saying with a low voice ”You were late.”

You looked at her confused, quickly taking a look at the clock.

”Uh no, I wasn’t. I was just on time?”

Sana chuckled a bit. ”You were technically on time, but usually you come a bit earlier in class. Just a small thing I’ve noticed.”

”Oh wow, you do have magical powers!” Y/N dramatically exclaimed.

”Why were you late, then?” Sana asked, nervously playing with her pen.

”Christoffer was bugging me, nothing worth to tell you.”

Suddenly Sana dropped her pen, looking at you in the eyes. She seemed shocked, you thought to yourself

”Are you dumb? This is our chance to get to their parties! You’ve got to flirt with him; give me your phone. Now.”

”I feel like my privacy has been invaded, you’re unbelievable Sana.” You said, feeling slightly embarrassed. You didn’t think it was that big of a deal and just the idea of flirting with Chris made you feel weird. Not the good kind, you think.

”Yeah yeah, just remember we’re friends. Give me your phone, I’ll help you.”

You were biting your bottom lip, deep in thought. It could benefit the whole group and in the end you were a strong girl, you could turn him down easily afterwards, right?

You were just about to hand out her phone to Sana, but the teacher walked in starting the class.

”This is not over.” Sana muttered, concentrating on whatever the teacher was talking about.

———————

When Sana said things weren’t over, she literally meant that. The second the teacher announced that the class was over, she grabbed your phone and unlocked it easily.

Sana was likespamming him, making your eyes widen.

”Wait! Don’t likespam him, it makes me feel really uncomfortable. I’d really rather talk to him face to face if it’s that important to you.”

A large smirk appeared on Sana’s face. She looked around, realizing the teacher who was still cleaning up their stuff was sending them death glares. Sana quickly grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom.

”So.. Do I really have to talk to him? Wasn’t Eva the one who agreed to flirt with him?” You asked hopefully.

”Yeah, but he doesn’t actually talk to her face to face.” Sana stated.

”Fine, this still feels wrong.” You said, running her hand through her hair.

A few hours passed, before you saw him again. You were in the cafeteria of the school with Vilde, Sana and Noora when you saw him walk in with William and the other guys.

”There’s William! He’s so hot.” Vilde said, staring at him.

Noora rolled her eyes at Vilde. She didn’t quite understand her obsession with William, always trying to switch conversations when his name came up.

Christoffer’s face light up when he saw you, saying something to his friends before walking up to you.

”Hey babe.” Christoffer said, sliding to the seat next to you.

Vilde and Noora gave you a confused look, Sana nodded along before hinting you to answer him.

”Out of all the things you could call me you had to choose that one, didn’t you?”
”Aw you don’t like that one either? Too bad I like it then.” He said, once again smirking.

”Too fucking bad indeed. Why are you here?” You asked, nervously tapping your nails to the table.

He was really attractive, you couldn’t deny that. If only his personality was as good as his looks.

Chris’ smirk didn’t fade even a little. ”I wanted to ask you to come to our party? You can bring your friends, too.” He said looking at the other girls who were just sitting there, listening to the little conversation that was going on between you two. ”So, will you?”

You knew the others were dying to go there and thought this was their golden ticket to get in. You wanted to please your new friends.

”Will there be alcohol?” You asked, looking at him.

Chris started laughing, but stopped as soon as you gave him a cold look.

”Yes, there will be alcohol.”

”Good, then we’ll be there. Text me the information.” You said, standing up. The others stood up as well.

You were about to walk out, when Christoffer’s voice stopped you.

”Where can I get your phone number, babe?” He asked, a smirk once again decorating his features after the last part.

You thought of it for a bit, before answering him. ”You know, if you’re really the guy everyone says you are, you’ll figure out a way.”

You left alongside with your friends, noticing that people were listening to your conversation. You smiled a little, feeling proud of the way you had handled the situation.

Ok I never make text posts here bc I have like, 3 followers lol but I gotta just get Real™ for a second. This is probably gonna sound pathetic but like Y'ALL KNOW I LOVE HARRY STYLES ok like all my mutuals who I’m sure didn’t sign up to follow a HS update blog I’m sorry but for years he’s been like my biggest source of happiness. The last couple years were hard for me personally, mentally, and there were so many times that like, this was all I really had to look forward to, not even knowing when it was gonna happen. Even towards the end of 1d I was screaming internally every second just ready for it to be his time. Anyway, now that it’s here, being able to listen to this album that’s JUST him that’s just what he wanted to share???? His words his voice, most all of the background vocals are him??? I have never been more overwhelmed. I’m so so so proud of him he’s so talented and he’s just SO GOOD and I’m already seeing some people give him a shot that never would when he was w 1d and it’s making me burst w pride. I love him so much and anyway this is just a long stupid post about how like, mentally I am a mess but right now I am happier than I have been in such a long time and I just really love music and I love Harry and I love you guys for dealing with me thank you xoxoxoxo

Appendicitis

Foggy gets sick in college. Matt worries.



Matt awoke at noon the Sunday after finals week still exhausted down to his bones and with the perverse feeling that something was very wrong. He often woke up with at least a vague sense of dread, as if the world had somehow crashed down around him when he slept, but as his body slowly came to one muscle group at a time he realized that this time his fear was not unfounded. Something was definitely wrong.

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long awaited update

I was in hospital for just over a week (cardiac ward before being transferred to an adult psych ward in a different hospital where there’s meant to be an abundance of eating disorder specialists). I had an NG tube for the majority of the time and was on a meal-plan for a couple of days (before things went to complete shit).

The team had been trying to get me to this specific ward for almost a year. An entire year of rejection ensued- not being sick enough. Any mentions of Bulimia ruining my chances in getting help (because it’s apparent that Anorexia is the only eating disorder that matters in the public health system). From being overweight my whole life, i finally fell into the “underweight” category. Obviously my case manager was worried, but there was that element of relief that followed as the team hoped now i would be taken seriously (because even if you’re physically and mentally decaying, if you’re not underweight then the professionals don’t care). That wasn’t the case at all.

I spent most of the time fighting myself mentally (eating disorder and depression thoughts running rampant) as i literally just alternated between reading and sleeping (they didn’t have any groups/programs, which struck me as really strange). I shed so many tears, spent so many hours exercising in my room and yet they thought i was absolutely fine just because i wasn’t screaming my frustrations and pain. However, i had contact with my case manager on the Tuesday and saw her on the Thursday (she works 2 days a week), and she saw me at some really low points. Thursday especially was the worst day i’ve had in a long time- i had a weigh in 5am and the scale showed such an inflated number, i completely broke down under the security of the four walls of my hospital bedroom. I was completely shaken, deciding to go on strike against the meal plan, refusing anything and everything, even any potential Ensure Plus’ being flushed down my tube. My eating disorder voice took over. 

Nicole (my case manager) was scheduled to see me sometime that day, and i was obviously really glad to see her when she came (i think it was around 11-1pm ish). She had spent a decent amount of time talking with my registra (one of the dr’s leading the treating team at hospital for me). What followed was an even greater spiral of insanity. It became apparent immediately to her how skewed and misguided the treating team’s opinions/perspective of me was. Something about me that’s important to note: i have an extremely difficult time effectively articulating how i’m feeling to anyone other than my case manager. I tell Nicole more than i tell anybody else, and i guess through my years of treatment/hospital admissions, i’ve come to hold a subconscious instantaneous lack of belief in doctors and other professionals. I knew i was at the ward to get help, and to me my struggles were really obvious (too obvious, if anything) but apparently that wasn’t the case. With these of my faults emerging, and the incompetence of the team, they became under the impression that i had Anorexia (even though all my notes say Bulimia.. so they were basically giving me the wrong treatment from the start) and that i didn’t even have a body issue. It was really really invalidating, and my case manager immediately tried to justify it all on my behalf. She’s the one that’s seen me in sessions literally clawing at my skin, crying and looking like i’m in physical pain because i can’t bare the thought of being in my skin a second longer. She’s the one that’s been forced to deal with my countless frantic phone calls while i’ve been on the verge of giving up, with eating disorder thoughts pushing me so close to the edge. But just because i wasn’t an outwardly angry borderline, i wasn’t visibly distressed and i answered “i’m fine” to their questions, they took that and ran with it. My case manager then mentioned something she said to him: she considers my borderline personality disorder more dangerous than a lot of her clients because while borderline’s seem to always through fits and be really expressive with their anger and feelings and emotions, i would internalize it and internally combust, leaving those around me completely clueless to the severity of my thoughts/emotions/urges.

My case manager expressed to me her anger and frustration at my inability/willingness to effectively communicate, and their ignorance. It was news to me. The whole time i had been pushing myself and trying to finally accept the proper help (feeling that i was attention seeking and overly dramatic as i was because of how open i THOUGHT i was being), but i didn’t realise how reliant on my honesty and openness the team/nurses were. They only pay attention to the really loud/aggressive/rude/chaotic patients and just assume anybody else is fine (i have a habit of trying to be really polite and nice and not wanting to be high maintenance to the staff, so i would smile a lot to them and keep quiet). 

Discharge was looming and nothing had been achieved. Nicole realised that i had a limited amount of time/interaction to open up and set them straight or else i would have completely wasted this opportunity. My community team were desperate because they had worked so hard to get me there, and here these people were- about to leave me with nothing but temporary medically stability. I was angry because of the invalidation (my anger had been building the whole time i was there because i could feel them just really easily overlooking me and not caring). So i snapped. After a long, tearful and angry conversation with my case manager in my hospital room, i was called to lunch at the dining table. Here dramatic, borderline, attention seeking Maja emerged. I was immensely shaking as i sat down in front of my food tray. So i got my orange juice popper and spilt it all over my tray, stood up and threw my sandwich out of the packaging, raced to my room and threw my morning tea yogurt on the ground and covered myself with blankets. I was sobbing, i was furiously self-harming and i wanted to be gone (i know it probably doesn’t make sense and it sounds like i’m being really pathetic and dramatic and immature, but i had been through HELL because of my eating disorder within the past year especially. 99% of my days were consumed by ED thoughts, i’d lost all my friends, i had to drop out of my university units and i had become a completely different person dictated by binging/purging, weightloss, obsession and self-hate). Of course the staff just ignored me, not understanding my perceived sudden rage. Before long i went into the nearby bathroom and started pulling out my NG tube, blood and disgusting bodily fluids going everywhere as the physical pain was masked by my new complete hopelessness, frustration and heated emotions. I was furiously shaking and was completely disassociating. My feeding tube ended up in the bin, with paper towels of blood from my bleeding nose covering it. I then went back into my room and hid on the side of my bed on the floor absolutely shaking continuously, trying not to drop my phone as i called my case manager- reflecting on the emerging situation.

Before long, the registrar and psychiatrist swung by my room to get me to go talk with them (them being completely oblivious to the missing tube and the bloodied tissues- they assumed a nurse took it out because they were probably planning to do so sometime anyway). They wanted to hear it from me the things my case manager had tried to communicate to them. So i was honest- i expressed myself, and was properly truthful for the first time since my admission. As i left the meeting room, one of my favourite nurses i’ve known from 2 previous admissions at the nearby adolescent ward was nearby and i simply told her about the tube in the bin before going back to my room and crying.

It all sounds like no big deal, i know. But these were big irregularities and massive steps for me. I hated being such an attention seeker but unfortunately i had finally realised something previously overlooked- only the loud, obnoxious and crazy patients get heard. And suddenly everything made sense to me. Years of being in and out of hospital, being exposed to such violent tantrums and such loud, pained words and actions of adolescent and adult psych patients alike, i saw things in a different way. All those people i had judged weren’t necessarily psychotic and rude intentionally or as a personality trait- they knew the secret: that only the loudest and biggest attention seekers get heard, after years of being overlooked and ignored.

Essentially the rest of the Thursday was spent in a numb emotional state, and i barely left my bed until Friday afternoon when the 2 dr’s came to take me to the meeting room. There i was once again honest, and they recognized how detrimental it was for me to be there. They were once and for all giving up on me after an abundance of faults on both of our parts. They were giving me 2 options: go on leave Saturday morning to Sunday night, or get discharged that afternoon. They intentionally set me up, knowing the option i would pick because of my clear distress and desperation to be anywhere but there, despite how sick and crazed i had become. So i was discharged, and they knew my case manager would be furiousssssssss, but i think they thought that because i chose to leave, her anger would lie with me and not them so much. They couldn’t be blamed (i have yet to speak to my case manager and find out her perspective and try to justify myself). 

I went home Friday afternoon and was so happy about it, however over the weekend a week’s worth of binging urges surfaced and i ended the weekend with an incredibly sore throat, and my weight currently being almost back down to how it was prior to my admission (1kg away). Yesterday (Monday) it was agreed that i would come back to hospital and have a final meeting with the entirety of the treating team in relation to my future treatment. Even with the lowest of expectations, i was humorously disappointed. They kept me waiting for 90 minutes while they discussed god-knows what, before calling me in and……..get this……… recommending a book for me to read (and a day program to go to sometime in January). I nodded, snickering internally at how exhausted i was about the whole thing. I wasn’t going to return, i wasn’t going to read this stupid self-help book, and i most certainly wasn’t going to this day program. I left, finally accepting that i would have to accept treatment at renown private eating disorder clinic i had a tour of months prior. And that’s where i’m at- my final chance to get help and get better resting on the shoulders of myself (significantly, obviously) and this inpatient clinic. 

I have a month to wait before my private health insurance cover is effectively changed and i can go. In the meantime, i’m back to being medically undone, with Eating Disorder Maja completely dominating and controlling my days, thoughts and the entirety of my life. But i genuinely am trying, but unfortunately haven’t been able to fight against taking my laxatives and living outside binge-purge-restrict-exercise.

I know i’ve probably come off really badly here (and everywhere). And i know i’m “playing the victim”, but i guess i just hope one person at least recognizes the desperate circumstances under which my decisions were made/ words spoken/ actions taken. I wish i was a better person, i wish none of this was happening, but i’m trying to make good decisions. And hopefully someday soon my life will be completely different. (if there are any specific questions regarding any of this, or confusion at all- feel free to drop me an ask and i’ll try my hardest to answer).

Again, i’m really sorry for everything.