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kentuckywrites · 4 years

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TBOS: Siren AU

Captain Fudge Carson of the RSV Deniable and his crew come across treacherous waters full of sirens. When one pulls Fudge overboard, his crew saves them both, and an unlikely friendship is formed.

The seas preached danger in the night, their waves signals of a threat beneath the surface. Captain Fudge Antonio Carson knew this danger all too well, and as his trusty ship plowed through the water, he kept his eyes glued downwards to the waves below. The sirens never once thought about how their shadows would reflect against the ocean surface, no matter how many times they attacked the incoming ships down this route. His harpoon gun in hand, Fudge turned to face his second in command, a stern and powerful woman named Rebecca Emeraldia, whose focus was set straight ahead of her.

“Perfect weather for sirens,” Fudge commented with a sigh, the skies stormy and dark above their heads, “I’d tell the others to hide. Things will get messy.”

“And what of yourself, Captain?” Rebecca asked.

He smirked. “I’ll be more than alright. Remember, their song doesn’t affect me. Only those who have a particular desire for women.”

“Yes, Captain,” She said before turning heel and walking down the stairs to the major portion of the deck, where the crew were preparing the ship for what was to come. They all knew these waters now, what fate they would encounter if they didn’t take the right precautions. The sirens were cunning with their songs, but they had all been taught in the naval academy that all sirens were female, that they could only seduce men. He was one of three men aboard; the other two knew they had to hide. The other four crew members were female, and he believed that their combined strength would be enough to navigate, at first. But the first night they’d sailed this route together, he had almost lost two of them to the sirens’ clutches. It turned out that men weren’t the only target - it was any man or woman who had a sexual preference for women.

It was a good thing that Fudge was gay.

He never stated it outright to his crew, but he got the feeling they already knew. A gay man, one of the most renouned captains to sail the Tilapitas Sea. Now that was something that would make the front headlines of the newspaper. But it didn’t need to. It wasn’t something to write about, not to Fudge. He was content being praised for his work and continuing to live up to everyone’s expectations. He hadn’t even been shooting for a promotion when the academy promoted him to captain. He had gone into the academy looking to become a ship technician, someone to fix the damages on the high seas, but being a captain? Now that was more of a challenge for him, and a challenge he had accepted in a heartbeat.

Fudge heard Rebecca commanding the crew members who were targets to head inside, put their earplugs in, get some good rest. When he turned around from his position on watch, she and Chloe remained on the deck, staring up at Fudge. Chloe was almost finished adjusting the sails for the new decrease in wind speed; her hands shook on the rope line she was loosening. She was the youngest crew member on board, having just graduated from the naval academy, and she was the younger sister of Eric, one of Fudge’s best crewmen. She hadn’t yet found her place on board and was following everyone’s footsteps where she could. Fudge admired her willingness to learn and couldn’t help but be reminded of himself in his first days onboard a ship when he looked at her. This would be her third night dealing with siren-infested waters.

“Alright you two, you know the drill,” Fudge told them, leaving his self-determined post to step down to the deck and address them, “Eyes on the water, harpoon guns drawn. If either of you need help at any point, scream as loud as you can and we’ll come running. Do NOT, under any circumstances, try anything brave. This is about survival, not heroics.”

“Yes, Captain,” They sounded off in unison. Rebecca walked off to the right side of the ship, removing her harpoon gun off of her back holster as a gentle breeze pushed her hair to the side. Chloe remained, hands letting go of the rope she was holding.

“Ah, Fudge - I mean, Captain?”

“Yes, Chloe?” Fudge said.

“Have you, um...have you lost anybody to the sirens before? Other crew members?”

“No one so far,” He told her, “Let’s hope it stays that way. Just remember what you learned and you’ll be fine. Rebecca and I are both here if things get hairy.”

“Thank you,” She said with a nod before going to her post on the left side of the ship, drawing her harpoon gun with hands still shaking. Fudge walked up the back stairs to the ship’s steering wheel, his hands floating over the wooden pegs. They were maintaining a straight course through the sirens’ territory, a somewhat rocky outcropping created by ancient volcanic activity. The island they were sailing for wasn’t far, but that made it all the more perfect for sirens to attack.

They went silent and remained silent, even when they had made it to the heart of the rocky outcrop. Fudge’s hands were steady on the wheel, pushing gentle turns as to avoid any damages to the ship. He’d navigated this terrain what felt like a hundred times before, and he’d navigate it a hundred more times before his retirement. He’d be damned if things didn’t go smoothly.

After passing through the first half of the outcrop, the sirens began to sing. He heard the song, but they only sounded like whispers to his ears. Chloe twitched at her post but remained steadfast, and Rebecca hardly flinched. Fudge smiled to himself. The worst would soon be over.

But then he heard something new. Amongst the whispers of siren songs, there came a new set of vocals, deeper, filled with anguish. Fudge’s eyes widened as the music reached his ears. Was this a siren? No, it couldn’t be, they couldn’t affect him. Shaking his head, he turned his attention to Chloe, who yelled as if on cue.

“Siren abeam to starboard!”

Fudge acknowledged her with a stern nod. “Watch it. If it comes too close, shoot it. We’re not having any attacks tonight.”

“Yes, Captain!”

And so she returned to her watchful duty, all while Fudge racked his brain for the reason why he could hear the one song above all else. Was this a new breed of siren, perhaps? Curiosity got the better of him, and he jogged down the stairs towards Chloe, his harpoon gun drawn and at the ready.

“Do you hear it?” Fudge asked her.

“The one song that’s louder than the others? I do,” She admitted.

“This is the first time I’ve heard it, I don’t -”

And that was when the water shifted beneath them. Fudge looked down at the waves, and there it was. A siren, figure distorted beneath the water, a pair of glowing purple eyes easily mistaken for stars, had it not been a cloudy night. Without hesitation Fudge aimed his harpoon gun over the deck, finger hovering over the trigger, waiting patiently for the siren’s next move. This was the one singing; the song felt so close to him now, clawing at his skin, begging for him to jump in, to give up his mortal life. Even though this one pulled at his heart in a way the others couldn’t, Fudge resisted the pull.

“Captain?” Chloe pulled his attention away for a second, and when Fudge’s eyes returned to the siren, it had surfaced above the waves. Its glowing eyes were clearer now, but what was also clear was the fact that this was no ordinary siren.

“You’re a male siren,” Fudge breathed, gun still pointed at the siren’s head, “Fascinating. The navy’s going to have a field day with this.”

Keeping his stare dead on the siren, he ordered Chloe, “Wake the others and get the fishing net. I want this one on board.”

He could sense Chloe’s hesitation. “What? Why?”

“We’ve never encountered or logged an experience with a male siren in all of history,” He said, “I’m not passing up the chance to learn more about him. This information could be crucial for the navy.”

“Yes, Captain,” And off Chloe went to retrieve the others.

Fudge started to observe the siren, who he realized was staring just as intently as him. The siren’s hair was dark, his skin pale and slicked with seawater, and even from this distance Fudge could tell his tail was long and powerful. But that detail was obscured not just by the water. There was a dark cloud surrounding him beneath the waves, and upon closer inspection, Fudge realized what it was.

The siren was bleeding.

There were wounds all over his body, scrapes and cuts of all shapes and sizes along his torso and arms. One had even pierced his face, leaving a scratch along his cheek. Fudge’s harpoon gun lowered, his brow furrowing. The siren hadn’t attacked him even though he was in clear view. The siren only sang, only watched. Was it...was it asking for help? No, that was more impossible than the fact that male sirens existed. But Fudge couldn’t help but wonder what was stopping the siren from attacking.

He wasn’t sure what was keeping his crew so long to get the net, but something compelled him to lower his hand for the siren to take. Fudge was convinced that this wasn’t the song at work, no, this was of his own volition. The crew were taking too long and a siren was hurt. The siren watched him extend his arm and hand out, and though the distance between them was still great, the siren leapt forward and took his hand as the water parted around him. Fudge’s hand wrapped around the siren’s wrist, trying to maintain a good grip on his wet skin without falling overboard. He heard his crew behind him yelling commands to each other, prompting Fudge to call out to them.

“The siren’s bleeding! Quick, help me!”

Rebecca came on his left side and Cicada approached his right, both holding two of the ends of the net. Rebecca saw what he was trying to do and immediately dropped the net, screaming, “What are you doing?!”

“I’m not entranced, I promise!” Fudge responded, throwing his harpoon gun to the ground so he could use both hands to keep the siren in his grasp, “Just help me get him on board!”

And finally his strength faltered, and his feet were no longer on solid ground. He toppled over the side of the ship and landed back first into the water, his hand slipping from the siren’s. As the ocean embraced him, Fudge was hit with a wave of incredible cold, and his arms wrapped around his body, his legs curling up to his stomach. His eyes squeezed tight as he sank, with little care about returning to the surface.

Hands pressed against his cheeks, holding his face. When Fudge’s eyes opened he was met with the glowing gaze of the siren, whose face was mere inches away from his. Fudge released a breath in surprise, bubbles flying up and out of his mouth. The siren saw this loss of crucial oxygen and swam around him, his long arms wrapping around Fudge’s torso. He unwrapped himself and the siren dragged him up towards the surface, where the shadow of a net loomed close over their heads. Fudge drifted out of consciousness just as they broke the surface.

When Fudge woke up again, it was unceremonious. His eyes opened to the familiar wooden boards of the ceiling, under the blankets of his own bed. A window was open to his right, allowing the sun to shine on his covered legs. He yawned, sitting up and stretching his arms outwards. How long had it been since he’d gotten a proper night’s sleep? He shook his head, trying to remember all of the details from the night before. Fudge had made it on board, that much was clear, but what had happened to the siren? He pushed himself out of bed, intent on finding out.

Fudge made his way upstairs and towards his quarters, ignoring the fact that he was wearing nothing but a simple white shirt and shorts, stripped of his uniform. He opened the door to his quarters and found Eric hunched over a tall table, a roll of gauze in his hands. A long purple tail decorated the end of the table that Eric’s silhouette wasn’t covering. The siren. Eric had dressed most of the siren’s wounds. There were more bandages wrapped around his body than Fudge thought there’d be, around his torso and his arms and his tail. Eric smiled as Fudge approached the table, wrapping up the spare gauze in his hands.

“He’s been through hell and back,” Eric observed, “I don’t know what could’ve done this kinda damage to him. Maybe other sirens, maybe a sea monster.”

“We won’t find out until he wakes up,” Fudge said, “Do we have the tank set up? I’d rather not keep him out of the water for too long.”

“Putting him in the tank isn’t the best of ideas right now, not when I’ve applied a good chunk of ointment to his wounds, and the bandages aren’t exactly waterproof. I’d recommend keeping him out on dry land for at least today so I can see how his wounds heal.”

Fudge nodded in understanding. “Alright. Still, ask the others to set up the tank here in my office. I’ll keep watch over him while you work.”

“Are you sure, Captain?” Eric finished putting away his medical supplies, “I mean, he almost...when he pulled you over last night -”

“He didn’t kill me then, and I didn’t fall overboard because of his song,” Fudge reassured him, “If anything, I’d like to be the first to question him when he wakes up. There’s so much I want to know - that we need to know.”

Eric sighed, unsure of how to answer. Fudge didn’t blame him - they’d all been trained to be wary of the sirens, and having one on board put a raw and heavy feeling inside Fudge’s chest. He swallowed to alleviate some of the tension as Eric answered.

“Just yell for any of us if it looks like trouble, Captain. Remember what they say about handling sirens -”

“The more, the merrier,” Fudge chuckled, “Now get back out there and take your post.”

Eric nodded and left without another word, and when the door shut behind him Fudge took a deep breath, exhaling out his mouth. He had a spare uniform stowed away in his desk, so once he changed and patted down the folds, he returned to the siren’s side. Its eyes were closed, but the steady rise and fall of its chest gave away the fact that it was breathing. Sirens were mammals, like their upper bodies suggested, and they still needed air to breathe. The navy had used that to their advantage when it came to the hunts last year.

Turning away, Fudge sat down at his desk, staring at the blank sheets of paper on his desk. The amount of paperwork this would entail was astronomical. Better to get started on it now while he waited for the siren to regain consciousness. He arranged the loose papers before him, grabbing his quill to begin writing. Every so often he glanced up at the siren to see if there was any noticeable movement, but every time he did, nothing had changed. The siren still slept soundly, chest rising and falling with every breath. Fudge eventually concluded he wouldn’t be waking up any time soon and kept his focus on his work.

At one point he realized that the report would likely need a visual reference, seeing as this siren was completely new and foreign to naval history. Fudge looked back up at the siren, still sleeping, and attempted to eyeball what he looked like. Half human, half fish - a strong torso, a long and powerful purple tail that shone in the sunlight, fins attached to his outer arms and poking out of where his ears should have been. Long black hair that had fluffed out with the absence of water, and glowing indigo eyes that could pierce the darkness of the night, staring into him with such a curiosity that -

Wait a minute.

Fudge blinked a couple times, realizing that the siren’s eyes had opened. They stared at each other in silence, neither moving for quite some time. Fudge eventually returned his quill to the inkwell and folded his hands on the desk, careful not to smudge the drying ink on his papers.

“Good morning. This must be something of a shock to you.”

The siren’s gaze shifted down to its body, noticing the bandages wrapped around his arms and torso. He lifted his arm to get a better view of one of the wraps on his hand, obscuring his eyes from Fudge’s view. Fudge stood up, walking around his desk and approaching the siren.

“We had one of our medical officers patch you up. When we found you, you were seriously injured. What attacked you?”

He kept his voice stern, though his curiosity was killing him inside. The siren’s gaze returned to him, lowering his arm back down to the table. His expression never changed, and he made no move to speak. Fudge wondered if the siren could even understand what he was saying, if his questions were falling on deaf ears.

The siren extended his arm outwards again, towards Fudge. A faint hum emanated from his throat, and though it was weak, Fudge felt his heart beating underneath his uniform, his shoulders stiffening. He took a cautious step back, unsure of what the siren was trying to do, scared that in this moment that he’d be taken advantage of. He wasn’t about to let an injured siren kill him on his own ship. When he stepped back, however, the siren paused his quiet hum, and something in his expression shifted towards hurt, hurt not from his wounds. His arm retracted ever so slightly, still holding on to some unknown hope. Fudge tried to piece two and two together and decided that maybe, just maybe, this siren was trying to do something that wasn’t harmful. He’d saved his life last night, after all, and there was something so gentle about his movements, so innocent and peaceful.

Fudge walked back towards the siren, taking his hand in his own. The siren’s skin was cold to the touch, mostly dry now that he’d been out of the water for so long. The siren grinned, showing a hint of sharp teeth underneath his lips. He hummed a few quiet notes, and Fudge felt his body relax. There was no imminent danger besides the one he was imagining.

“This is unlike anything I’ve ever done before,” Fudge mumbled, “Holding hands with a siren...who knew?”

The siren tilted his head, now lifted slightly off the table. He continued to hum, a low and quiet tune that still hit Fudge’s ears with an uncanny strength. Of course he’d never expected to encounter a male siren, but he had to admit that it made sense that he was bewitched by the song. It wasn’t to the point of being controlled, but to the point where he acknowledged its power, what the song could make him do if the siren sang any louder. On edge, Fudge released his hand from the siren’s, trying to maintain his stern tone from before.

“Can you even understand me? Can you speak English?”

The siren blinked, the song continuing. He nodded once, and only once.

“So you can only understand me but not speak English?” Fudge tried to put together the pieces.

The siren nodded once again.

“That’s good to know...well, ah, how about this. I’ll give you a few questions, you answer yes or no by shaking your head.” When the siren looked puzzled, Fudge added on, “It’s not often that we have sirens on board. I’ll admit, this is in part due to my own curiosity, and in part to document this encounter.”

The siren nodded at that, and Fudge took a step back, pressing the outer edge of his pointer finger into his chin. What would the navy want to know first? What did Fudge want to know first? He decided to try and mix the two together.

“So, do you know what attacked you? We found you injured last night, but we couldn’t tell what hurt you.”

The siren nodded once, his hum growing sad and wistful. Fudge wanted specifics, so he tried a few different options.

“Were you attacked by a shark?”

The siren shook his head.

“A sea monster?”

A hum mimicking a laugh, then he shook his head.

“By one of your own kind?”

Another head shake.

“Did humans do this?”

And there it was, the nod of confirmation. Fudge wasn’t sure why he was surprised to see that he was right, but after a moment of silence he concluded that it was because the siren was so trusting at first, that if humans had indeed attacked him, then why would he go to humans for help? Fudge adjusted his goggles, biting his lower lip in thought. This didn’t make sense, but it wasn’t like he could ask for the specifics.

“So humans attacked you. I, um...I’m sorry about that. I know that probably doesn’t mean much, coming from me, but…”

The siren smiled, an understanding in his eyes. The song grew louder, and something in Fudge’s stomach went heavy, as if he’d eaten a stone that gravity was trying to reclaim. He couldn’t deny that the siren was beautiful, but he tried to shake himself clean of the thoughts, attributing the sudden interest to the power of the song.

“So are there more male sirens out there?” Fudge continued his questions, doing everything in his power to seem unfazed by the song.

The siren hesitated before nodding, and Fudge’s eyes widened. “Really! This is the first time we’ve ever seen a male siren before. You guys are good at hiding, though I’m curious why this is our first time seeing you considering your kind lure people down to the water for a midnight snack.”

He chuckled at his own little joke, but the siren’s expression shifted to a scowl. Even though it was hard to tell due to his pupiless eyes, Fudge could see his gaze shift away and the song took a sharp turn in key.

“You can’t be mad at me for stating the obvious,” Fudge protested, “Sirens eat humans. They have for a thousand years and will continue for a thousand more.”

He didn’t know it was possible, but the siren’s shift in song sent a crackling noise through Fudge’s ears, like a swarm of bees had surrounded him, invading his mind and all his senses. He didn’t have to understand the siren’s language to know that this was frustration, this was an anger beneath the surface.

“Moving on, then…” Fudge said, his limbs tense. “I suppose I’m rude for not asking this first, but do you have a name?”

The buzzing noise resided, prickling at the back of Fudge’s mind. The siren nodded once, and his mouth opened as if he were about to speak. Instead of words, a screech emanated from his throat, and Fudge covered his ears from the added pain. Well, that explained not being able to speak English. The siren quickly silenced himself when he saw Fudge growing agitated, and a soft hum indicated something close to an apology. Fudge straightened his spine, sighing.

“Is there any way you could tell me what your name is without doing that again?”

The siren raised a hand to his mouth, hiding its melodic giggles. It was a heartwarming thing, one that sent Fudge into a panicked blush. It was getting harder to resist this siren’s song - perhaps there was something about the male siren’s song that was more powerful than the female’s? He would have to investigate that at a later date.

The siren then pointed to Fudge’s desk, towards the inkwell and the parchment he’d been writing on minutes ago. Fudge couldn’t hide his surprise. “You can write?”

When the siren nodded, Fudge shrugged and walked briskly to his desk, picking up a spare piece of paper and one of his more well-used ink pens. He carried those in one hand, and the inkwell in the other. By the time he looked back to the siren, he’d propped himself up on the table so that he was sitting upright. His tail swished against the ground, long enough that it stretched out a decent ways from the table. In the light of the golden sun, his scales were a dark indigo sky, stars that came out of hiding to dance in the break of day. Fudge’s return was slow, for he found himself admiring those scales, wondering why he still felt entranced despite the pause in the siren’s song.

“Here you go,” Fudge placed the paper and inkwell onto the table to the siren’s left, but he held the pen so that he could give it to the siren directly. He smiled, finally showing his wide array of pointed teeth, and when he reached for the pen their fingers touched for the briefest of moments. His hand had been cold before, but now the contact left Fudge warm and wanting.

The siren bent over, albeit somewhat awkwardly, over the parchment. His grip on the pen was forced, but he still managed to write with the ink, though his letters were slow. When he finally sat back up, he gestured to the paper, and Fudge saw a single word, written in incredibly messy handwriting.

Pong’netai-opta.

Fudge frowned. “Pong...net eye...ahpta?”

The siren nodded quickly, excited. Fudge bit his lip, knowing he was going to butcher that name every time he said it.

“Is there...do you have any nicknames? Something a little shorter? That’s a bit of a mouthful…”

He blinked once before returning to the paper, crossing lines through his name until only five letters remained. They spelled out “Pongo”.

“Pongo!” Fudge chirped, “Do you mind if I call you that?”

Pongo raised his hands, staring down at them with a strange concentration. Then he created fists with them before raising both thumbs up. Fudge watched how he grew excited with his own discoveries, his own memories. How had he learned how to give a thumbs-up? Was that something sirens did too?

He supposed he would have time to learn more. After all, Pongo seemed sociable enough.

“Right then, Pongo, I’m Captain Fudge Carson of The RSV Deniable,” Fudge stuck out his hand to shake again, secretly hoping Pongo would take it so he could feel that warmth again.

Instead, Pongo’s mouth opened, and a similar screech to before echoed through the room. Fudge flinched, but grew curious when he realized that it sounded like Pongo had said his name. Straightening his spine, he offered another smile as Pongo took his hand again and they shook.

“Perhaps I’ll teach you how to speak English while you’re recovering - it’s the least I can do for you after you saved my life. For now, I do believe we’ll get along swimmingly.”

#TBOS: Siren AU Short Story #ocs #original story #I just wanted to write a fun au for the Team #it's been sitting in my drafts for months #probably not gonna do much more with it tho #unless... :3

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buffalowingsfortwo · 5 years

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10/10/19 2:04 am

ash to faith

i meant to wake up at a reasonable time today. but i got up at 3. i stayed in bed for a bit because i wanted to feel productive but i couldn’t find anything to really make me want to do so. today was rhys’s birthday. i was gonna go to the cemetery with flowers like i always do, but they were going to close soon, and it was cold outside, and i didn’t have money, and i didn’t feel presentable for her. so i stayed in bed and figured i’d go back soon to leave flowers and apologize, or leave flowers and say nothing, because she’s dead and probably doesn’t know the difference. or if she does, im hoping she just doesn’t blame me. i don’t think she would. but i also think i lost the right to speak on her behalf years ago. if she did blame me for putting myself first i think it would be fair.

after like an hour, i got up and dressed and just started working on homework. i went to class at 7, and tbo brought a box of see’s candy suckers that she apparently had gotten as a gift but didn’t want. i got a vanilla one. it wasn’t necessarily the best thing i’ve ever had, but it was pretty good, and i have a really bad oral fixation, so i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. i can’t remember much of class, but it was nice. she made lots of jokes and everyone laughed a lot and i kind of understood what was being discussed. she let us out an hour and 15 minutes early.

when i got home i ate bread and cheese and spinach ravioli. i don’t like cheese and spinach ravioli, and too much bread makes me feel bad, but i was kind of just eating because i felt like i had to, so i don’t think it matters. after that, i sat and mostly did nothing. like half an hour ago, i started trying to work out a bit. im here now.

the most exciting part of my day was a bit after i woke up when i decided that today would be the day i started listening to harry styles’ music. i listened to his record and then a few hours later found out he was releasing a new song. i listened to that, and some of his older stuff that i was recommended, and i really liked it all. im really late to the party, but when everyone else was deep in their one direction phase, i was busy crying to pierce the veil and of mice and men and telling everyone at every available opportunity that i wasn’t like other girls, and i couldn’t stand cheesy pop music. im paying for my misogyny now. but at least i now understand what the big deal is. harry styles is really pretty and really talented and im close enough to being like every other girl.

i should sleep at some point but honestly i don’t know if i will. i might just eat more bread. i don’t want any but it sounds like a nice way to pass the time.

“im selfish, i know, i told you, but i know you never listen”

- woman by harry styles

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rotisseries · 8 months

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‘he is haunted by the specter of the women who came before him’ rin girl trauma is genuinely so good do you want to explain your thoughts

YESSSS!! this got long lmao

ok so some obvious things straight up. he's azula, he's lady macbeth, (which. very interesting because these women could easily be considered masculine figures in their stories but tbh villainy in media always includes some level of the character acting in ways incongruent with expectations of their gender.) he's reaching for a goal that is unachievable and he's losing everything in pursuit of it and when he realizes he's done it all for nothing he loses his mind entirely. out damned spot out

he's not a physically strong or imposing character, he's sly and cunning, traits often given to female villains, also his weapon choice, I said this to hella in an ask gathering cobwebs rn but he uses poison!! poison is his weapon and poison is a woman's weapon, all the way back to like, medea. I actually found this really interesting thing real quick just by taking a quick google search for poison as a woman's weapon:

it's a weapon of intelligence and elegance, it doesn't leave a mess, it's for a death that's clean and pretty (also so often the reality of death by poison is a brutal and choking one, which. ughhh you get me) however women also die more by poison, which is interesting but idrk where to go with that. also in general it's a weapon of betrayal and intimacy of COURSE it would be rin's weapon.

anyway girl trauma time. ok so admittedly some of it is just vibes like I was just sitting around like "hmm the specific way rin is impacted by kiva and lugalia and how he handles it FEELS very Girl Trauma™️" which is obviously not a very academic way of discussing that. and like obviously trauma and trauma responses are not exclusively linked to your gender but he doesn’t feel like a man with mommy issues he feels like a woman with mommy issues you know? he's full of grief, not hatred. also this is coming from me who does not have eldest daughter syndrome and does not know a man with visible mommy issues so. take it with a grain of salt.

anyway he's a middle son who acts like an eldest daughter and I don't just throw that around because I kinda don't love when people say "this man has eldest daughter syndrome" when they just mean parentified like you can just say parentified it isn't always eldest daughter syndrome but rin HAS eldest daughter syndrome and I actually feel like that's a bigger deal here because he's NOT really being parentified like kiva actually does very well with parenting drako so rin doesn't need to step in or anything. no, rin is an eldest daughter because he has to be uniquely aware of kiva's mental state in a way drako just. isn't. drako knows lugalia was awful obviously and that kiva hates her for good reason but drako doesn't really seem aware that it's made kiva. not the perfect mom. rin is bearing the brunt of it all, he doesn't know about lilla obviously but he has to sit with the knowledge that something is holding kiva back from him, he can tell. he's also being permanently held to this standard he'll never meet.

a firstborn in general but especially a firstborn daughter is supposed to be your perfect example, the child always going above and beyond meeting your every expectation which lugalia does to him in the most obvious sense but kiva is also holding him to a standard he can't meet. she's holding him up next to lilla. obviously she's not hoping to replace lilla with him in fact it's the exact opposite but the fact he ISN'T truly her firstborn he CAN'T truly be lilla is something that keeps kiva from loving him properly. he isn't lilla he can't bring back lilla he will never be lilla he will never be kiva's firstborn daughter and the impossibility of this standard is HAUNTING THEM BOTH. very interesting that being the middle child gave him eldest daughter syndrome btw lmao. (also I saw this tiktok (<- bad start) that I sent a screenshot of to hella in ANOTHER ask that's gathering cobwebs but supposedly older children coming out of their mothers leave dna behind in the womb that becomes a part of the next kid can we TALK about the rin+lilla and drako+rin implications of that???)

and then the way he HANDLES his issues. he doesn’t really blame kiva OR lugalia he doesn't even seem fully acknowledging that they've done him wrong he just keeps reaching for these standards he'll never be able to meet. if he can just be the perfect heir he will no longer feel the ghost of lugalia digging her fingers into his shoulder if he can just be the perfect son kiva will love him wholly but this isn't true and it's not his fault but he won't see that because if something isn't wrong with him then it means something was wrong with the women who raised him and if something is wrong with them he's spent his life reaching for something he can't have and if he's spent his life reaching for something he can't have then where does he even go from there? how do you move on? it's all been futile? unacceptable.

so he tries to meet the standards he's being held to. and he's haunted by the women before him. he's haunted by lilla, occupying a space in his mother's heart that he can never have. he's haunted by kiva, her gentleness standing in contrast to his learned pragmatism, her feeling like she's looking into a portait of her mother, horrified at his every action, when he does it all for her anyway. he's haunted by lugalia, crafting him in her image, the perfect heir, hiding everything under a calm and icy exterior. he's haunted by hammari, reaching higher and higher for an impossible goal, wanting, needing, to be good, to be loved, committing greater and greater sins in pursuit of it, until it's gone out of control, and it's too late to quit, because if you quit, what was it all for? you lost everything, and for nothing. and at the end of it all, with a knife in his hand and hair scattered around him, he's once again haunted by lilla, who was the perfect daughter he could never be, without even trying.

he is forever living in the shadows of the women from before him he is constantly shaping and reshaping himself to try and fit to their place in the puzzle he was sculpted in their image and now he continues to sculpt himself and he will NEVER BE FREE of his sister and his mother and her mother and her mother and yeah I just think that's very girl trauma of him

#I feel like there should be more to this I can't explain it but I don't have anything #oh wait he also feels ignored which. middle child syndrome but also very eldest daughter of him #to take on so much burden (like a sacrificial lamb) and feel ignored for it #anyway I think part of this whole thing going on with rin is just. hella's perspective that she's writing tbos from #like. (sorry hella if you see this I don't mean to psychoanalyze you but unfortunately i do follow your personal account too. so)#hella is clearly putting in a lot of her own experience with family trauma which obviously is coming from her pov #as a daughter with an older sister and a mother who was impacted by her mother #so like. of course rin's issues reflect a woman's when he is being written by a woman #but yeah he IS VERY INTERESTING TO ME!! GENDERWISE!!#ask #witch-of-aiaia #hi aiaia!#also like. I think in general when a child is done wrong by their parent of the opposite gender they grow with hatred for that gender #(as your parent is usually your first example of that gender)#whereas when done wrong by a parent of the same gender a child tends to have a lot of grief #(<- that’s again not academic I really should clarify that as someone who is blessedly not traumatized by my parents #most of what I say is coming from an outside perspective through mostly cultural osmosis)#and rin has grief. not hatred

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stephaniejuhnay · 7 years

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Prince On Every Tour: Purple Rain

After the We Can F**k leak and the spiral of simultaneous listening and sobbing, frustrated sighs and “It’s too funky” head bobs, I’ve decided that tonight would be a good night for this. I was gonna wait til my deluxe set got here, but it’s not coming til the 28th and I have a flight to catch the next morning. And I do not recommend scurrying around LAX as a zombie. Plus, @the-beautiful-1 and I will be attending The Revolution concert out here in sunny (sweltering) CA, the same day that the deluxe set will be officially released. The timing just seems right.

PURPLE RAIN. SYRACUSE. MARCH 30, 1985. LET’S GET INTO IT.

Overview:

He is here yall. Prince. PRINCE. The megastar, the legend, the icon. Seven years and five albums in, he has finally, FULLY arrived, and fiercely so. He has arrived and has, if I may borrow from @just-prince-things, snatched our “proverbial wigs” (maybe even some real ones).

He opens by telling us he’s come to play with us. And play, he did. Played with my entire life in a 2 hour show. He rises from beneath the stage amidst a cloud of smoke and a sick wind machine, wearing the most glorious white boa we’ve ever seen atop the moto jacket/fitted pants combo 2.0: paisley, paisley, and more paisley. We love it.

He immediately launches into Let’s Go Crazy while we are still collecting ourselves from him simply rising from the depths of the stage. Insane guitar playing ensues as he and Wendy verify that they, in fact, created the stanky leg. History, ladies and gentleman. Six minutes and twenty-two seconds in, jacket and boa have disappeared in a literal flash of light and we’re basically shirtless as a very funky Delirious plays. Thank you Prince.

His stage presence is that of 1999 but amplified times 100. As stated, I am firmly of the belief that he had “it” during the 1999 tour we just weren’t really that aware of how IT his it was. Here, he knows it, and we for doggone sure know it now. Who was that friend of friend playing that small club in Paris in a bikini? Because this is an entirely different man. This whole era is an “I told ya’ll so” from Prince to the rest of us. He is 100% in his element, he has mastered all aspects of Prince the artist, and everything that happens after this is literally him doing whatever he wanted to. Because he’d earned it.

Dancing, while still very extra, is on POINT. He has perfected his mic tricks, his splits are here and not going away for the next decade+, he still is a ball of energy, even smoother and more graceful than 1999. That energy is infectious watching 30 years later, so I can’t even imagine what that room felt like. A room that is full of 50,000 people. 50,000 people that this 5'2 man in more paisley, lace, and makeup than I as a woman will probably ever see in my lifetime has, by a mere 26, completely and utterly entranced with every song, movement, look, you name it. Everything he was able to elicit from these huge crowds of people, night after night at such a young age reconfirms how truly magnetic he was. He is just as much the audience’s leader as he is the group of metallic, Victorian Prince look-alikes playing on stage with him.

Now, we can argue about that description, but all those things are true. Be honest. It’s okay. We love them too, the final and most well-known iteration of The Revolution. We’ve seen yet another personnel change (hey Dez, don’t you like his band? …sorry couldn’t resist), yet the sound is even tighter. Demanding the stop on the 2 and then wanting 25 during the Possessed jam and them delivering it flawlessly is a testament to how much they’ve all grown as a unit. And if you’ve watched that rehearsal footage an unhealthy number of times like I have, you can attest to all the work they put into it. The addition of the horns (HEY SITH LEEDS ) really gives their sound a new depth that continues to evolve over the years (which I love - horns are phenomenal). Wendy fit like a glove and her comfort on stage being as young and new as she was is pretty incredible. She’s a ball of energy herself here, and her guitar skills are straight SICK. Plus Wendy got that funk.

The band’s dancing has mimicked P’s in it’s progression as well. The coordinated steps between Wendy, Prince, and Brownmark are nice to see and adds another fun little element to the show that we haven’t seen executed at this capacity yet. Even something as simple as the side to side from the entire band during the Possessed jam just makes you wanna groove a little harder. And umm…hello Baby I’m A Star steps? I meeannnnnn…

If 1999 was the emergence of daddy, Purple Rain was the 100 exclamation points after that statement that really drove home the idea. I typically don’t spend a whole lot of time with PR because, haven’t we all spent SO MUCH time here? But every time I revisit, I’m reminded why I love PR Prince oh so much.

Favorite Number:

This show was chock-full of hits and jams and grooves ya’ll. I’ll have to narrow this down. Just…hang with me through this.

First of all, Let’s Go Crazy was so good, it truly could’ve been a closer. To start a show off on that note is bold, because it left me thinking “well where else can he possibly go after THIS?” the first time I watched this concert. So many places Stephanie. So many.

Take Me With You was a fun time, and then it got to a place of incredible funk at the end and it deserved to be mentioned.

How Come was ALMOST my favorite number based upon the gif above, and that gif alone. I’m. Still. Growing.

God always holds a special place in my heart because it’s a beautiful song and his vocals ALWAYS stun me. Live versions are just….transcendant.

Clearly classics from this show: Computer Blue (such a life giving guitar solo, honestly), Darling Nikki (come through shirtless body roll, come THROUGH), Purple Rain (by far amongst the greatest guitar playing I’ve ever heard/seen in my life here), and of course the marathon that is Baby I’m A Star. So much funk ya’ll. There’s just so much funk. And he is relentless about it. It’s why I love him. Yes, tell me when I’ve had enough. And I’ll end that train of thought there. Bye.

When Doves Cry gets a mention for - you guessed it - the insane jam at the end. Almost every song on this show is tagged with a sick groove afterwards, making this show go on for much longer than necessary. But I welcome it all. Everyone jammed on this song. Everyone. And I Would Die 4 U is such an elating ditty as is, but live…fantastic. However, my favorite live performance of this song will forever be from the Landover show. I was on my FEET ya’ll.

The Beautiful Ones. RUNNER UP. Easily my favorite song off of the original PR album and THE BEST PEFORMANCE FROM THE MOVIE PLEASE FIGHT WITH ME ABOUT IT. But this performance was just, magical. First of all, we get graced with another boa, pink this time. And he comes out looking like a glorious, headbanded angel in another sparkly, paisley suit and the combination of all those things takes my breath away okay?!

But if I have to choose a number that edges out the rest of these, for me, it’s Irresistible B***h/Possessed. There are few things that bring me more joy than the live version of Irresistible B***h. It’s already one of my go-to’s, but the dancing paired with it during this show takes the cake. Then we have Possessed and the undeniable groove with the band that ensues added to it? Yeah. This is the winner.

(originally posted by @onlyprincegifs)

Favorite Outfit: So many outfits in this one. So many moto jacket/matching pants combos in different lace and paisley iterations. I loved them all tbh.

Honorable mention to the Computer Blue poncho/headband/lace fingerless gloves combo. The mess is brilliant. Also the glittery hooded cape/headband combo from Purple Rain.

I really enjoyed TBO’s outfit because he looked magical and beautiful and maybe it brought a tear to my eye because I love him so much. BUT. I am going with the black, sparkly, lace-back-of-the-pants suit during Possessed as runner up. Winner is the all white lace number also with matching poncho and train during I Would Die 4 U. Again, headbanded angel made of pure light. He’s BEAUTIFUL ya’ll. And I wanna know who caught that shirt and if they still have it!

Still Would Rating:

So like…I know lookswise not much changed between 1999 and PR. The hair got a bit bigger and the suits got a lot more lace and paisley. However I can always tell the difference. And for some reason 1999 Prince has an edge over PR Prince and I can’t quite place my finger on why. Anyway, he still gets a five. I just wanted to share that.

Overall Rating:

Good GRIEF ya’ll. This show left me so tired. I am spent. I feel like I swam laps in an Olympic sized pool. And I watched this from my bed. How did ya’ll manage at these actual concerts? I mean, really. This show….was phenomenal. This is the height of his success (and I don’t say that to take away from any other era, this is just fact) and we clearly see why. What a showman. What an artist. What a musician. What a leader. WHAT. A. PRINCE.

PREVIOUSLY , 1999 NEXT UP, PARADE

#prince on every tour #this took a lot out of me #and there's so much text #I had to break it up with gifs #I am elated for parade tho #cuzzzzzzzz parade has been a thing for me lately #and is always in competition with SOTT prince as 2nd iteration after 1999 #prince

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leaveharmony · 7 years

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A transcription of the english subtitles (+ a summary and some screencaps) of a part one of a two-part NJPW documentary/interview about Hiroshi Tanahashi, circa 2014. Part 2 is Here

Teaser:

(the opening shot is Tana standing in an elevator)

Hiroshi Tanahashi (referred to from this point on as HT): I'm not tired. I never get tired. (he pretends to fall asleep on his feet, with his head resting against the wall)

(there's a little introductory sequence, subtitled with the idea behind the documentary - a look at Tana's then-15-years in wrestling, his love of it, and his love of the fans. My favourite clip is when a little girl he's holding for a photo kisses his cheek and he throws his head back like “Oh! You got me!”)

(a close-up, Tana is standing in the sun, talking)

HT: Well, it's been...15 years since I began my career and I'm happy that I've never grown to hate pro wrestling.

(the theme of the documentary is “Why I love pro wrestling” because if anybody deserves a title worthy of a painfully earnest gradeschool paper, it's Tana)

(Tana is walking in the rain at night. His gait is strange, swaying, like he's always going downhill or is afraid his shoes will fall off)

Caption: New Japan Pro Wrestling holds over 130 events a year. He posts about NJPW whenever he gets a spare moment.

(somewhere overlooking a road, Tana is standing outside. It's still raining. During Tana's monologue, footage of him attending various promotional events plays; Tana on camera, Tana chatting next to Yoshitatsu)

Caption: His hectic schedule

HT: I asked for this situation. Nobody asked me. I just wanted to liven pro wrestling up. You may think it's livened up now, but I still don't see the top of the mountain. Even if it's going well right now, I won't cease my efforts. I must keep going. As I continue promoting, I've been blessed with various offers. I just feel grateful and happy seeing people exited about and craving pro wrestling. Nothing makes me happier.

(the footage switches to a DVD release event at Tower Records; Tana is onstage with Hiroyoshi Tenzan, Togi Makabe, and two gentlemen I don't recognize. The Blonde One is chatting with Tana, I'm gonna represent his dialogue with “TBO” until I know otherwise)

Caption: Part three of “Gekijo Pro-Wrestling” DVD release party at Tower Records

TBO: How was part Three?

HT: The venue was Namba Grand Kagetsu, a holy place for comedians in Osaka. In addition to young comedians, many big-name comedians appear there.

TBO: That's right.

HT: I was overwhelmed.

TBO: Though the young comedians performed freely,

(HT: hai)

TBO:...a legendary comedian was unable to perform.

HT: So the roles were reversed.

TBO: He was too nervous.

(we switch back to outside, where Tana is fiddling with his phone)

Caption: Tanahashi keeps the world posted. Even while filming, he writes on his blog as always.

HT: I'm posting on my blog. I like writing.

Interviewer: Have you gotten used to your smartphone?

HT: Not yet.

Interviewer: How long have you been using it?

HT: About a week.

Interviewer: How do you like it?

HT: It's super handy.

Caption: He used to stick to a flip phone

HT: The other day, I went to the office and boasted “I can type so fast.” And an assistant said, “You're three years behind.” (laughs)

Interviewer: What made you finally get one?

HT: One reason was that my old flip phone was worn out. Also, my jobs were hindered because I couldn't open attachments.

Interviewer: Your jobs as a writer?

HT: Yeah, but this is really fast.

Caption: In 2014, his words were published in book form.

(interior shot, Tana walking in a cluttered white room carrying his book. He grins at the camera and points to it)

Caption: November 18th, the NJPW offices

(Tana sits down with Koji Uno, an editor with R25 magazine. They greet and introduce one another, then sit down.

HT: This is our second time, right?

KU: Yes.

(Closeup on Tana's book, the caption reads "How Hiroshi Tanahashi Suceeded in Reconstructing New Japan Pro Wrestling")

KU: I wanted to feature you in our magazine after I read your book. I felt the title was like a business book, and it was actually very interesting.

HT: Thank you.

HT (in voiceover, again from outside): It's a great non-fiction book. A positive side- effect of the book is that it reached a new audience for pro wrestling. Also thanks to the book, major mass media outlets, newspapers, and business websites began to interview me. So I'm glad it got published.

(back inside, where Uno is taking notes as Tana speaks)

HT: Well, I like novels. When I was in high school, I was into Yasuo Uchida's Mitsuhiko Asami series. Asami pilots the Soarer. He isn't married and he's laid-back...

(outside in the rain again)

Caption: Tanahashi is delighted to have a hectic work schedule. Is it because he endured the hard period dubbed the 'Dark days'?

HT: Looking back, it wasn't tough at all because everything was rewarding. I promoted pro wrestling and more people came to enjoy it. I really love it when they say, “It was fun!” People tend to compare the dark days with the current situation, but my activities never changed and will never change.

(an exterior shot of a glass skyscraper)

Caption: November 15th, Shosen Book Tower Akihabara. His 15th anniversary DVD release party will be held on this day. 30 minutes before the event, what is drawing his focus?

(A close-up of Tana's face; he looks urgently focused on something. His face keeps contorting; whatever it is, it’s Serious Business. The shot pans back...Tana is playing on his DS lol)

Interviewer: Is that for relaxation during long tours?

HT: I enjoy this during tours. Since I don't have time to go out, I automatically save money. (he looks a bit sheepish) Sometimes I play too much, and it affects my health. (laughs)

Caption: 10 minutes before the event, the meeting finally begins.

(Another white room, with three people inside. One has a lanyard on, one is at a table with a pen, and Tana is seated before a mirror with a flatiron, fiddling with his bangs. They're going over itinerary for the event)

Staff: Then the selected match...

Caption: The DVD includes Famous Tanahashi Quotes.

Staff: “Tanahashi that doesn't fly is just a good-looking guy.”

(Tana starts laughing)

HT: Is that on there?

Staff: Yes.

HT: When did I say that? (still laughing)

Staff: Before your match with Kojima-san

HT (recalling): Right, I couldn't do my High Fly because of my knee injury.

Staff: You were wearing the black shorts.

HT (repeating it to himself): “A Tanahashi that doesn't fly is just a good-looking guy.” I'm still good-looking. (laughs)

Staff: And still boasting.

(A quick-cut. Tana is still backstage, every time we make a cut he's got less buttons done up on his shirt. His whole undershirt has vanished. He's taking a huge bite out of some kind of pastry; it has a fish design on the top)

HT (noticing the camera): Ah!

Caption: A rare sight of Tanahashi enjoying a treat during his busy day

HT: Yum. I was trying to sneak this, but you caught me. (laughs)

Staff: You shouldn't eat that. Maybe just a bite.

HT: The event starts in two minutes.

(Tana laughs and takes another huge bite. With his mouth full, he says “Yummy!” Staff are scurrying around)

Staff: Did you eat lunch?

HT: Yes I did. A fan gave me these when I came in. (he indicates a white box with two other ...fish pastry things..inside) So good!

Staff: Are you ready?

HT (dramatically): It's time.

Staff (the woman looks exhausted; she was probably in charge of keeping his buttons up): This way.

HT: Okay.

Caption: To the venue where his fans await

(Tana walks through dimly-lit hallways, there are boxes piled up everywhere. We see the emcee of the event welcoming fans. There are over a hundred in attendance. As we cut back to the other room, Tana's music starts playing out in the venue. Tana's buttons are now entirely undone.)

Caption: Backstage, for some reason he bares his chest.

(Tana is laughing at his own ridiculousness)

Caption: Then, something unexpected happens...

HT: Hey! For real??

(the fans have started singing “Happy Birthday”; Tana's birthday was two days after this was filmed. Tana looks like a kid at christmas, and claps along with the song a little bit. Everyone yells happy birthday. There's an explosion of giggles as soon as everyone can see him with his inexplicably undone buttons. The emcee, Haruo Murata, greets Tana)

HM: As you can see, we started with a birthday surprise.

HT (grinning but also blushing like an anime character): Look at me. How embarrassing...I was supposed to make you laugh. Thank you.

HM: And here's a cake for you.

(The little vanilla-frosting cake has 1/100 on top)

HT: Ah, my nickname.

(another explosion of giggles. Tana picks the cake up and holds it for a second. “One blow” he pledges, and blows his candles out. Everybody yells happy birthday again, and Tana thanks them.)

HM: This is a great photo opportunity.

HT (sheepishly): Let me do up my buttons.

(the event begins in earnest; Tana turns up the charm and starts chatting with Murata, and telling stories)

HT: It's been 43 years since NJPW was founded...and 60 years since pro wrestling began, which means a better wrestler than me won't appear for another 40 years.

HT: I think it was 2007 when I became the G1 winner, and I was wearing black shorts...a reporter from TV Asahi asked me why I was wearing them, I answered, “Because it's sexy. Shorts are sexier.” (to the audience) But that's not what fans want, right?

HM: How did the reporter react?

HT (laughing): I don't remember. Maybe like “Ok..?” I used to bother them a lot.

(quick cut to the photo op portion of the event. People keep bringing him birthday presents, and giggling. He chats a little with everybody and takes pictures with them. A little tiny girl gives him a present and declares "He's a prince!" before he picks her up for a photo; her mother carefully places electric pink birthday sunglasses on Tana's head for the picture)

Caption: He keeps a hectic pace to please his fans. He says he owes all that to his family's support.

(we're outside again, with Tana in the rain)

Caption: Gratitude to his family

HT: I'm always out for training, promotion, and matches. The only thing I can do is try to make the most of the time when I can be with my family. I feel bad for making my wife and kids miss me. My wife always prepares me well-balanced meals...and my kids always give me a big welcome yelling “Dad!” when I return from tours. I'm so lucky to have them.

(nightfall, after the event. Tana exits a back gate but as soon as he's visible, there's shrieking from the street. Tana says “Whoa.”)

Caption: Tanahashi willingly grants fans requests right until he leaves.

(there's a little crowd of mostly-girls looking for autographs. One of them yells “Take me home with you!” “Takeout?” Tana jokes. He chats with everybody even as he's actually in the back of his taxi)

Caption: Because NJPW is currently riding a wave of prosperity

(Tana stands against a wall mural, with the heavyweight title over his shoulder. He's pontificating a little bit but also grinning because it's practically self-parody at this point)

HT: I think some wrestlers get carried away with that. But not me. Still, someone needs to watch our step...and keep an eye out for the fans' needs. I have to anticipate their slight emotional changes and cater the performances to what they want. Once it becomes too routine, it won't excite them. The best part of pro wrestling is always changing performances. But don't worry, leave it to Tanahashi.

Caption: Dreams

HT: For the future of pro wrestling, I want more kids to aspire to be pro wrestlers. We don't have farm teams like baseball and soccer do. And baseball has the Major League while soccer has role models like Honda and Kagawa. Kids can aspire and work towards being like them. I want to show kids that being a pro wrestler is something they can also aspire to be. To make that happen, I must rise up and show them what it can be like and hopefully more kids will dream of becoming pro wrestlers. Perhaps, they'll play pro wrestling at schools. I vaguely imagine such a vision of the future.

Caption: What is pro wrestling to you?

HT: Pro wrestling is my way of life. I don't feel right saying “It is my life” as my life will go on even after quitting pro wrestling. In pro wrestling there are good times and bad times. If I endure hardships, then golden opportunities come. Then I counterattack and seize them. So what I do in pro wrestling and in my life are closely linked. It has taught me so many valuable lessons. When people ask me this question, I always answer, “It's my way of life.”

@yungcrybby-anonymousbosch @torukun1 @lone-gunwoman-of-the-week (idk if you’re actually a Tana fan but you might be? lol)

#Hiroshi Tanahashi #Tanariffic #NJPW #Rasslin'

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thewebofslime · 5 years

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istelerpp-blog · 6 years

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so lagi na lang ako nagpapakamalang tbo at bi at hindi straight, eto lang sasabihin ko hah putangina nyo po nakakainsulto na dahil just because hindi ako palaayos and kikay at maarte like all of you ladies and gentlemen aree doesn’t mean confused ako at gusto ko kalahi ko hah. This is getting way way down and below the belt. like ano are you seriously gossiping about my orientation?! Well 100% sure naman ako na i want a dick later in my life at i don’t know how to flirt nga lang po. pero duh .. napipikon na ako hah.

ok yes affected ako at offended ako dahil although i have absolutely nothing against these people sa lipunan in fact wala akong pake let them be, what they want to be. yes love wins go!

naoofend ako. you are judging me, at dahil hindi nyo naman ako kilala you jump to conclusions about my fucking orientation?! kung ano ano iniisip nyo saken, who knows kung ano mga iniisip nyo at pinagsasabi nyo about the way i talk, i stand, i fix my hair, how my voice sounds.. nakakainsecure yun! yun ung totoo!

NEWSFLASH! kung ang ideya nyo ng pagiging babae ay make up, short shorts, lipstick, labas na boobs na mga damit, pang pokpok. ABA! tangina lang. hindi ako chix but i am real woman inside and out. Ano? don’t tell me, i’m too tough for you?!

I am a strong independent woman at bakit ba ako nagrarant i am self sufficient! babae ako, okay? at hindi ako LOW para patunayan un sa inyo, k? GGOOODDD!

#clarification #own

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wedadatef · 7 years

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