#Got a little too real in the tags of that last post apperently
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backpackingspace · 2 months ago
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Ah. Fuck I triggered myself again. Goddamn it
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floxalopex · 4 years ago
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Why, to me, Adora didn't solve her trauma. Or at least, it was supposed to be only about that. Spoiler: anti Catradora and anti Glimbow. Please, this are just my opinions. Don't wish my death. These ships are canon anyways so yhhhh you won, ok? Everything is fine 🌈
Yh, I'm doing this very depressing, very akward and inappropriate post at last. With of course, a lot of self-centered story nobody wants to hear because I need examples to explain emotions. Hi.
So. I don't hate Catra. I vibe with her a lot. But I can't stand when people erase Adora's trauma saying Catra's was worse. Everyone has the right to experience their own sorrow. Pain is a subjective feeling.
I was always the Catra while my sister was the Adora. I was the nd who needed to go to the psychotherapist causing my family to spend money, not to mention other healt problems. My sister doesn't even wear glasses. I took three attempts to get a stupid car license and still have panic attacks when I need to drive. My sister is a talented pilot. I was more good at school than her, but she was always better at living. And you can't change that with anything.
Still, I never hated her. Nor was I jelous. I awlays loved her and will always do. We are very different but we balance eachother. You may think that she got it easy. She didn't.
My parents are amazing. And I love them, they never raised a hand on me. But it was hard. It's hard to love a kid everyone depicts as "creepy", "not normal". But they did.
I watched the episode with Catra and Adora's childhood flashback with my sister. We had goosebumps. Before that I believed I was the only one suffering, while in reality I wasn't. It's not easy being the "golden child", "the normal one" either. My sister was so used to being referred as "the non weird one" that she developed a very closed personalty. She is a ray of sunshine, always smiling, but she won't tell anyone if she is feeling bad. She has to be perfect. She has to be all right all the time. I tell her to open up, at least with me, but it's not easy.
Trauma can have many faces. And honestely I blame myself I lot for having caused this to her. If only my parents weren't so focused on me and my so many problems that started since the day I was born (so far I risked to die at least 4 times) they wouldn't have had so much stress. They would have focused more on my sister. We talked about this and she says it's not my fault and honestely after so many years I want to believe her.
Adora has a post traumatic response. She has a martyr syndrome so strong she even feels that sacrifing herself is the normal course of actions. "You deserve love too" means that you also deserve to be heard. Your feelings matter.
Now. *Sighs*. I don't hate Catra, but I don't like Catradora at all.
Another sad story.
I never liked in my life the troupe of the "best friends" who grow up togheter and are supposed to be soulmates. I don't believe in destiny. There's no superior order in life.
I know there are many cute and real stories of couples who start and end togheter. Honestely some years ago I would have felt envious of them, now I fell like the freest of birds.
I had a childhood friend. He was born exately 20 days before me and, since our mothers were best friends, those were the only days in our first 10 years of life we were apart. We grow up togheter like brothers. Of course (of course, because eh you know, hormons, not destiny or whatever) we ended up having a relationship when little.
I didn't have so many friends and he made sure of that. He isolated me from everyone. He was possessive and mean. He was aggressive and now that he is old he is even a racist, sovranist, fascist, sexist and lots of other amazing qualities.
He was my first good diagnosis. Cushing syndrome. So yh, even if I'm super short he is shorter than me due to the therapy he has to endure. (By the gods, I generally don't mind physical appereance, I've even recentely found out I'm panromantic so yh, I don't care about gender either... but dam, can I have a partner taller than me? It's not even difficult.) Honestely, sickness apart...he is not so very good looking. Neither was I when little, I was very chubby. With the difference that I still saw beauty in him, but he never did. He mocked me with his friends. He said things like "If I don't love you who ever would? I've known you for so long, that's the reason why I tolerate you". I always stood by his side when people bullied him for his frail body structure or because he couldn't swim (which in Sicily it's almost a disability). He never did the same for me.
We broke up badly. I wasn't the one who left him but anyways. We don't even say hello to eachother.
I know by some relatives of his (who adored me) that is he depressed and lonely now.
It's... hard. Not to care for him. I know I shouldn't, I don't even want to. But the sentiment is there. I was never enough for him while he was everything for me. I don't love him, I would say I even hate him (and to make me hate someone you really must work very hard). But...hate is an emotion too right?...the point is that he will forever be a part of me. Even if I wish we never met in the first place.
Anyways.
I don't have positive opinions on Glimbow either. I love Glimmer but dam she is possessive. I like Bow but he should have been more true with his feelings and not end up with her only to please her. Choose Sea Hawk or Perfuma.
In a childhood relationship platonic love, habit, hormons, friendship meld togheter in a ...peculiar way. But let's be honest, we change with aging. We are not mature, we are not sensitive enough. Polite enough when little. We are not aware enough.
I'm monogamus yes, but at least sexually speaking. In reality you should have experiences. Know other people to know yourself better.
It, again, may be my bad and traumatic relationship speaking. But said relationship never gave me positive personal growth. It was rather toxic.
Adora, dear. Humanity is not lost. But you can't save everyone. Not by risking your own happiness. Caring for somebody deeply and having sexual attraction for them...isn't enough. And you too Catra. Let it go, there are people out there (cough cough Scorpia) who can and will give you the world if only you let them. Give others a chance. Maybe you are not in love with a person, but with the memory and the idea you had of them. People change, it's not theirs or your fault.
People leave and you don't own them.
Lastly yes, I will put the Entrapdak tag. Really not for visibility, I have more feet than followers (no, I'm not an octopus monster) and honestely I don't give a fuck. (Yhh mean Floxy). I'm just here to say emberassing things and be a stupid fucking nerd.
*inhales*.
Entrapdak=the love of my life. The relationship between two adults. Two people who didn't know eachother and passed puberty (...Hordak baby, you there?) a LONG time ago.
Two people who reason with their minds and not entirely with their hormons. I'm clapping while typing.
No drama, no doubts. I could talk for hours but honestely this no sense is already a pain in the gut of everyone who reads so far.
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jaehss-blog · 7 years ago
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Who I Am
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | First Impressions
Short Summary: Imagine to wake up somewhere that feels and smells like a grave, knowing nothing about yourself but your name. That’s what happened to (Y/N), just to find out through a stranger that she is dead.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader
Warnings for this Chapter: memories, confusion, meeting Sam (that totally IS worth a warning!), mentions of death/murder, kind of psycho(?)
A/N: Hello! Since Tumblr didn’t show my post in the tags last time I hope it will work for this chapter. I hope you’ll enjoy! *The GIF below is NOT mine.
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Everything you could think of was the sound of breaking bones inside your body. Your chest burned and you knew that you werent able to look at him anymore. It was like you were drunk. You only had a limited, blurry view and started to waver as soon as you tried to get away from the brothers. It wasn't Sams fault that you had to see yourself die, at least you liked to believe that. But you still needed to find a way out of that situation, as much as you hated it to leave Dean, the man that helped you, behind. Altough there wasn't a chance for you to flee, your hands clung to the kind of crumbling wall beside you. Letting your head fall down you stopped walking along the motel hall, just to concentrate on breathing for a second. You were aware that the older Winchester probably noticed that something was up with you again and that it wouldn't bother him that you went out for some fresh air. There was enough to talk about with his brother and you figured that he would want to be alone with him anyway. In a heartbeat you were standing outside of the building, just to note that it had slightly started to cool down. You enjoyed the chilly breeze, which met your overheated forehead and hoped that nobody observed how bad you actually felt. The heart in your aching chest pumped hot blood to your loud throbbing temples, you couldn't hear anything. Not even your own thoughts. There was only one good comparison to what was going on with you: A whole-body-brainfreeze. Just hot like hellfire. You couldn't afford to go to Dean with your (not so) little problem, because he had already done so much for you. And no later than telling him about needing some space between you and Sam would just be the best reason to abandon you in the next town, although you could tell that neither he nor his brother would do that.
Your buzzing head obviously didn’t look forward to calming down, because everything just got worse the more you moved away from the motel. Every step you took caused rustling noises to find their way into your brain and even more strange pictures, which seemed like visualised image noises on a tv, built themself up in front of you. Air was pressed out of your lungs by a feeling that could have been a much too tight bodice as well and you probably should have stopped to “jog” somewhere that wasn’t near the Winchesters.
Because then something totally unexpected happened. And in this scenario unexpected meant bad.
“(Y/N), watch out!”
Rapidly you turned arround, your scared eyes seeking for somebody in the distance. The voice sounded familiar, but you weren’t quite sure to whom it belonged. It didn’t appear to be a danger for you, still you worried about finding nobody that shouted out that loud for you. But more specificly you worried about the fact, that you had no idea what to watch out for.
“Quick, look behind you!”
The same person called out for you once more, just in a lower, more concerned pitch full of sorrow. It was a man, who tried to warn you and he kind of reminded you of the voice that had been planted in your head since your death-experience. (Yes, that still freaked you out a lot.) The only problem was, that you basically weren’t able to open your eyes anymore. Yeah, you could hear again, which was good, but instead of seeing your normal surroundings the only things you could spot were darkness and well, image noise pictures. In other words: You were blind.
“(Y/N)... (Y/N)! He’s coming for you!”
The echoing words burnt themself into your fragile mind. What did the person mean with “he”? Who the hell was after you? It didn’t make any sense, especially because you weren’t able to imagine a single reason to hunt you down. Not having a clue, if that was real or just yourself going insane, you furrowed your brows and noticed how your knees became weaker as your body started to shiver. All of a sudden you knelt on the floor, at least you thought you did.
When your trembling hands wanted to grab something to stop your torso from tilting forward, your fingers noted that they were clinging to a panel of wood. That was when your sight came back and placed an old memory once more directly in front of you. Confused and absolutely disturbed you blinked and blinked... and blinked, yet the vision didn’t go away. Now you were furious, one could also call it “afraid” if they wanted to. You were there, at the place where it happened. And you didn’t appear to be alone.
The curtains touched your skin as the strong wind forced them to and it took you a few seconds to realise that you actually cried, without knowing why. Outside there were some deep dark clowds, which shed a really heavy downfall. Your feet didn’t even attempt to move, but it felt like you wouldn’t want to get away from the window in any case, which puzzled your thoughts further and further. It was clear that you couldn’t change anything, because that had already happened in the past, although you didn’t remember any of it. And that scared you, since you knew what was to come.
However, there were apperently still things you didn’t know. Just like the two hands, wich appeared on your back and made you feel so worthless. Or like the warm breath from behind that met your right ear when you clenched while looking up to the grey sky. Or like the final push that served you your last flight.
__________
“Hey, (Y/N)- (Y/N), damn it, open your eyes!”, was the first thing you heard after waking up from that nightmare.
“What... what happened?”, you could hear yourself mumble, without noticing where you actually were.
“You colapsed ON Sam just one minute after we got here. Guess this shit is still too much for you to handle, kid.”
“Yeah, I guess.”, you groaned, without realising what he had said or where you were.
You then went back to snuggling up in a blanket, which - following to your smell- and touch-test - didn’t seem to be yours. You weren’t in your own bed and the man that had just talked to you wasn’t someone you knew good enough to live in the same house with. Your eyes flew open and you jumped up, looking arround in the motel room of Sam - the guy you apparently “landed” on.
“Wait, Dean?”
“Yes? Who did you expect? Santa? Well, sorry, I didn’t know you two had a meeting.”
Fuck, fuck- FUCK. That meant you never left the motel. And that meant those visions were more dangerous than you had believed, particularly because Dean wasn’t aware of anything.
“Nah, I actually expected Voldemort”, you attempted to cover your true worries, “ya know, we’re close.”
“What a pity! And I hoped I would be able to get to know the person who I knocked out - free-handed.”, a new, soft voice chuckled, slowly coming closer to the room you were in.
When he finally stood there, right in front of you, the fizzling in your head found its end. In fact, everything arround the both of you was filled with silence. By the look on his face you could tell that he and his brother had already talked things out. You had no idea if he had noticed all of that as well, but for you it felt... right. The time, that passed slower since he had entered the room or the warmth that he spreaded. Even the awkward silence was something that you didn’t mind at all.
“My name is Sam”, the young man smiled, stretching out his hand towards you.
“I’m (Y/N).”, you shyly murmurded, feeling the redness appearing on your cheeks.
And as your fingers collided with his you decided that you were willing to keep your past to yourself. At least for now.
Tag-List:
@broken-angel-withashotgun
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