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domesticangel · 5 years

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ok ive been wanting to do an OC redraw/redesign for a while now and uh, well here it is !!! top is obv the revamp and bottom is these three’s original designs ,,, the bottom pic is 9 years old (holy smokes) so i made them during my middle school emo/scene phase when i was like 12 so thats why they're.........Like That lmao but left to right in both pics is jude, elliot, and skipper!!! this was? so fun honestly

ummm lots of info/backstory about them under the cut lol

so in the original pic/designs… if I remember correctly jude and skipper were in police academy training to be cops and elliot was some punk ass kid theyd end up seeing around a lot cause he was in and out of holding for Delinquent Things, and ofc they magically became friends. Im pretty sure they were all 16/17 when I first made them which makes no sense at all (teen cops??? Ok) but like when ur 12, teenagers are Practically Adults BUT none of that is Canon TM anymore. In their redesign they range from early to late 20’s; I usually peg jude around 26-27, elliot is probably 23-24, and skipper is 21.

jude was the very first oc I ever made so shes always had a special place in my heart… I started churning out rapid fire ocs when I was in middle school that id toss when I was bored with em but shes the one that always stuck around!! Shes been a big honkin lesbian ever since her conception, so id use her a lot to express BabyGay feelings I didn’t really know how else to process. design wise I kinda just simplified her look; I have no fucking clue why she used to have an eyepatch and cat ears (I mean, I do, its because I was a weeb) but I got rid of those along with the scene hair and gave her longer hair with more natural waves and some freckles from spending a lot of time in the sun. her gray eyes and hair were always kind of her signature, so those got to stay! She mostly just wears anything that’s easy enough to move around and get work done in; tank tops, loose long skirts, etc. think futch hippy. anyways jude is now just a simple plant witch who uses her skills and connection with the elements to run a modest local farm, and even though shes fairly content in her lifestyle, she wants nothing more than a gf/wife that she can work hard to give a good life to :3c shes a hopeless romantic and has a bad habit of falling a little bit in love with every woman she meets, but shes mad shy when it comes to flirting, so more often than not shes just a sweaty ball of pining and infatuation. Whenever shes feeling some type of way about a girl she either obsessively takes on projects around the farm or house to distract herself or rants to her plants about how shes too afraid to express her feelings. RIP useless lesbian jude. Anyway shes the oldest of the trio, so shes very protective of elliot and skipper in a mother hen kind of way. She gets embarrassed when she realizes shes lecturing them like a cranky old maid, but they secretly don’t really mind it and often come to her for general life advice. I think her sign would be Taurus :3c (and probably an air moon since she’s kind of a space cadet)

elliot was REALLY FUN to redesign bc I honestly just wanted him to look like one of those people who had a HUGE scene phase way back when and just… never completely grew out of it lmao so I gave him the two-tone mullet he deserves, grown out roots hes definitely not gonna bother to re-bleach and re-dye, and piercing scars under his lip from where he used to have some tacky ass snakebites that he probably had to take out to get a job or something lol. he couldn’t completely give up piercings though, so the labret and gauges got to stay. Dudes not COMPLETELY stuck in 2007, but he does still enjoy a lot of the OG emo/punk bands and the fantasy of making it big in his own band and touring the country in a fashionably clunky van. He doesn’t exactly have a band, but hes working on that. Hes halfway decent on vocals and a guitar so he spends a lot of time combing through the local college town he lives and works in in hopes of finding some people who’d wanna play some gigs with him. But in the mean time, he works as a barista in a local café, which usually hooks him up by letting him do some acoustic sets at night every now and again. Hes a very warm and upbeat person, and will happily engage and talk the ear off of anyone close enough for him to do so, stranger or otherwise. He also regularly reminds jude and skipper how much he loves both of them and how glad he is that theyre all friends; He doesn’t really have much in the way of embarrassment or apprehension when it comes to what hes feeling. Hes the official unofficial “plan-maker” of the friend group and is able to bring them all together for quality time, because hes not at all passive like jude or skipper, and… usually has the most free time out of all of them lol. elliot is pure Leo and that’s about all there is to that

And finally, congratulations to skipper, who against all odds, looked normal enough that I didn’t really have to change anything at all about his design! Just had to ditch the uniform for your typical Tired Gay mustard sweaters. Skipper is an English major in his sophomore year of college who, like most people in their 20’s in liberal arts programs, is desperately trying to figure out what he wants out of life and also doesn’t know what sleeping or self-care is. He really enjoys writing, but doesn’t really know if he wants to do it for a living or if he even could. He grew up with pretty cold and distant parents, so on top of knowing they don’t really approve of his major, he pretty much always operates under the assumption that if hes not working himself to death hes not justifying the space hes taking up or the air hes breathing. Emotionally speaking hes more emo than elliot will ever be and his blood is probably 75% caffeine. He having kind of a rough time tbh but hes gritting it out in hopes that things become more clear eventually. He’d be way worse off if he didn’t have jude or elliot, who hes more thankful for than he can ever bring himself to express. They were essentially his first real, close friends, and despite skipper being incapable of asking for help, they always seem to know when he needs someone to talk to or even just a brief distraction; Jude has an open door policy for her farm and will let him come over and cuddle some rabbits or sit and talk over tea on her porch whenever he needs to, and elliot cant remember the last time hes made skipper pay for anything he ordered from the café, or the last time he even had to ask skipper what he wanted. Because hes the youngest of the three its sometimes their instinct to protect him, which embarrasses skipper out of his mind, but he knows they mean well. Hes the physical embodiment of Just Doing His Best and is a stone cold Capricorn

They’re still besties but basically met just from living in the same town; jude and elliot met when jude started providing the café’s local roast from the coffee beans she grew on her farm so elliot saw her fairly regularly and of course was like Oh Friend? Jude always liked how forthcoming elliot was as it complimented her generally reserved nature, and elliot always thought living on a farm and growing your own food was pretty punk rock and therefore pretty dang cool in his book. They both got to know skipper because he came to the café every. single. day. to ingest ungodly amounts of espresso and study all day, and when elliot took an interest in skipper, jude suggested he invite him to one of his gigs since the poor guy kinda looked like he needed a break. Skipper initially kind of politely shot elliot down, but jude took a chance and found skipper later to tell him how much itd mean to elliot, and that if it made him feel better she’d go with him, since going to events like this was different for her too. skipper apprehensively agreed at that point, and the rest is history !!! they all kinda hit it off after that

tl;dr

#art #oc #original character #i even named the redraw frensiswhenyouhaveabud.jpeg #i think about this sentence almost daily #jude #elliot #skipper #redraw

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jesus-otaku · 7 years

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Okay last one and this is gonna be a total surprise for literally like everyone bc I made no announcement about doing this.

Valentines and Denial has officially had more hits on AO3 than it has words, which means more than 15.5K hits, and that’s huge to me. It has way more hits than anything else I’ve written, even though it was so hastily and sloppily done, and it is STILL getting notes on Tumblr a year and a half after Part 1 was first posted. Which, again, is freaking huge. I literally never imagined something I wrote being read more than 15500 times.

So, to commemorate, and so that the garbage fic may finally rest where it belongs (in the garbage), I have rewritten Part 1 completely. It’s loosely based off of what I had written before, but I wanted to give it more thought and detail than was originally present in what was just an hour’s word barf. Consider it V&D version 2.0.

Title: Valentines and Denial 2.0 (Part 1)

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Adrinette

Word count: 2221

Originally inspired many moons ago by this post by @lilacblossoms.

If you for whatever reason want to read the original version of this fic, you can find it here. God have mercy on your soul. (Here is the AO3 link.)

“He knew this handwriting.”

________________________

Assigned partner projects are generally considered to be one of the banes of a student's existence, along with pop quizzes and excessive homework. But just this once, Marinette thought that the assignment had been a blessing rather than a curse. She and Adrien had been partnered together, and would get to work with each other for the next two weeks. She felt like she might explode with excitement. Granted, their time together would be dominated by their project, but still. Having this much time with Adrien all to herself felt like a dream come true. She was so caught up in daydreaming about their time together that it took her a minute to realize he was trying to get her attention.

“Marinette?”

“Y-yes?” she managed to sputter out. Someone at another of the library tables shushed her, and Marinette felt her cheeks grow warm in embarrassment. She hadn't meant to speak so loud. Adrien probably thought she was a socially awkward freak.

Whatever he thought, though, he kept it to himself and just smiled with his usual patience. “Do you have any ideas?” he asked. At the blank look she gave him, he prompted, “For our project?”

Marinette's face went red all over again. “Oh. Um, I thing I wrote some thinks—things! I think I wrote some things in my—my notebook. During class.” She scrambled to get her notebook out of her bag. Part of her wanted to crawl under the table and never come out. What if Adrien thought she had been ignoring him? Dear God, she was never going to make it through two weeks of this without making a total fool of herself. She'd already messed things up by imagining romantic “what if”s instead of just paying attention. Busy scolding herself, she passed over her notebook several times before actually thinking to grab it. She yanked it out of her bag hastily—spilling most of the contents in the process—and held it out to Adrien. “Here! I, um, the back is in the—the drawings are back the—I mean—”

Adrien took the notebook and flipped to the back, as if he'd somehow managed to decipher her incoherent babbling. His face brightened with that smile of his she liked so much. “These look great, Marinette!”

She had died and gone to heaven. That was the only explanation she could think of as to why Adrien was not only treating her like she wasn't a walking disaster but also praising her. The boy was an absolute angel. “Really?”

He nodded emphatically. “I love the ideas you've come up with,” he said. “We'll have no trouble getting a good grade on our project if we use one of these. The only thing is,” he added, “they're all so good, I'm not sure which one we should use.”

Marinette stared at him, dumbfounded. Adrien, probably uncomfortable with her staring, made a great show of looking over her sketches and notes again. She had finally begun to recover her power of speech when the smile dropped from his face abruptly.

“A-Adrien?” she asked, a little worried. “Is something wrong?” Why had he stopped smiling all of a sudden? He'd seemed so excited just a second ago, but now he was almost frowning.

Adrien's eyes snapped up to look at her. Her question seemed to take a minute to sink in, but then he shook his head and gave her another smile. “I'm fine,” he assured her. “Just thinking. We've got a lot of ideas to pick from.” He looked back down at her notebook and traced her handwriting with one finger.

He might say he was fine, Marinette thought, but he looked about ready to cry.

As soon as Adrien took a closer look at Marinette's handwriting, it was like someone had punched him in the gut. He almost choked on his own breath.

He knew this handwriting.

He'd traced this handwriting at night, examined the shape of each and every letter until he had it memorized, studied even the smallest details. He would recognize it anywhere. It was the handwriting from the anonymous valentine he'd received on Valentine's Day, the answer to his poem for Ladybug. He'd hoped beyond hope that Ladybug herself had sent the valentine, but clearly fate had decided to play a cruel joke on him and get his hopes up for nothing.

“A—Adrien?” He heard his name as if he were underwater. “Is something wrong?”

He looked up and saw Marinette staring at him worriedly. Her eyes were wide with a combination of nervousness and concern. God, he had to pull himself together. He was getting Marinette all worried just because he didn't want to accept that a valentine with no signature was from somebody other than Ladybug. Was it really the end of the world? Adrien forced himself to shake his head and reply. “I'm fine,” he said. He mumbled out an excuse he was barely conscious of making, and returned his gaze to her handwriting.

It really was identical to the writing in the valentine, he thought as he traced the letters. There was no mistaking it. Marinette had written the anonymous valentine.

Wait … Marinette had a crush on him?

As they worked on their project over the next few days, Adrien tried to see if he could catch any subtle hints at how Marinette felt about him, but his efforts were fruitless. It was hard to gauge how somebody felt about you when they could hardly speak to you. The valentine suggested she liked him, but her stammering implied that she was more afraid of him than fond of him. He wasn't sure why she'd be afraid, though. As far as he knew, he hadn't done anything that would have scared her off. He considered asking her outright and decided against it. Confronting her this late after Valentine's Day would probably make it seem like he'd been avoiding the matter, and he didn't want to offend her.

He really had to wonder how and why she had answered the poem he'd thrown away. Nobody should have seen it, especially not any of his classmates. He'd been so careful to hide it during class, and he'd thrown it away immediately afterwards. And even though he hadn't written the intended recipient's name anywhere on the paper, he wasn't sure how Marinette could have come to the conclusion it was meant for her.

Well, on second thought …

She did have pretty dark hair, Adrien thought to himself on the sixth day of their project. Maybe not quite jet black, but it was close. On day nine, he caught himself observing the precise blue of her eyes, looking to see if it was anything like Ladybug's. If he'd had to describe their color, it would have been the blue of an early summer morning just after dawn—blue like the heavens. But not the same blue as Ladybug's. It was similar, but not the same. He would know Ladybug's eyes anywhere.

Then Marinette caught him staring and turned about a hundred different shades of red, and Adrien hastily apologized before turning back to his work.

His close observations were good for one thing, though. Although he wasn't able to figure out how she really felt, he did pick up on tiny habits and mannerisms that he'd never noticed before. She stuck her tongue out when she was concentrating on something. The first time he noticed her doing it, a somewhat idiotic grin spread across his face. He had done the same thing once or twice. Her nose scrunched up when she laughed. He'd had to turn around at just the right moment after class to catch that. Alya could get her to laugh the way Adrien never could. She squirmed and bounced in place when she was excited—he saw her doing it one morning while gushing to Alya about some new fashion magazine she'd just bought. Finding out the little things helped him to think he might actually be on the track to becoming better friends with her.

There was just one problem. He still couldn't manage a normal conversation with her.

He certainly tried. He gave it the best shot he had. Marinette just couldn't seem to talk to him. She would stammer and trip over her words, fumbling sometimes for a solid thirty seconds to come up with a reply, letting out a nervous, embarrassed laugh every so often. If the bell rang while they were talking, she fled to their next class as if the room had caught fire. Adrien wondered why she was so averse to talking to him. It was like she was trying to avoid him.

Finally, on the last day of their project, he decided to ask her about it. The worst thing that could happen would be the usual stammering and rapid exit. Maybe, if the cause was something he had done without realizing it, he could make amends. When they had finished working for the day, he stopped her before she could leave, catching her by the wrist. “Marinette, wait.”

She stared at him like a deer caught in headlights, red-faced. “Wh-what is it?”

Adrien hesitated. He didn't want to make her feel like he was interrogating her or like he was being too nosy, but it was hard to justify this to himself when she looked so nervous. This had been a much better idea in theory. “I just—could I ask you something? Just really quick, before the bell rings?”

That seemed to get her to relax, if only a little. He felt some of the tension leave her body. “I—of course. What … um … what did you want to ask?”

It was Adrien's turn to get nervous now. He shifted his weight self-consciously. “Um, I was just wondering … are you, um, are you … are you avoiding me?” God, why was this so hard? She was a classmate, for heaven's sake, and one of his friends besides. At least, he had liked to think of them as friends. Was that the problem? Was he afraid of her saying they weren't friends and that he was overbearing? Or had finding out the valentine was hers really turned him into this much of a nervous wreck?

Marinette's jaw dropped in what he could only presume was shock. “No!” she exclaimed, much louder and with much more force than he had expected. There was a loud “sshhhh!” from several other students in the library, and Marinette clapped her hands over her mouth, her face reddening all over again. “I'm not avoiding you,” she squeaked out from behind her fingers. “I didn't realize—I never meant—do I really—it seems like—I'm so sorry—I—” She cut herself off and hid her face in her hands.

“I'm the only one in class you don't really talk to, though,” he pointed out, confused.

“That's …” she started, then cut herself off again. She peeked up at him from beneath her hands, and Adrien was suddenly struck by the observation that she looked very cute when she did that. Her face had somehow managed, impossibly, to become even redder than it already had been. “I—I'll see you tomorrow, Adrien.” Before he could protest, she had scooped up her portion of the project and made a beeline for the door, hurrying out like she thought the hounds of hell were at her heels. She left so fast that she was still shoving her work in her bag when she disappeared through the door. Adrien was left standing alone, extremely mystified, in the middle of the library.

“Plagg,” he said, quietly so as not to risk anyone else overhearing, “do you think I scared her off?”

Plagg poked his head out of Adrien's bag. “It seemed like the same as usual to me. She's always like that with you, isn't she?”

“That's not what I—” He sighed. “Yes, she's always like that. I just want to know why. Was it something I did? Did I scare her somehow? Or is she still upset about the whole gum thing?”

Plagg snorted in response. “She probably doesn't even remember the gum thing. Do you really have to ask why she's like that? Even though you know she wrote that love letter you like so much?”

Adrien sank back into his seat slowly. Yes, Marinette had written the valentine, but … didn't people generally at least try to interact with the person they liked? He knew he, at least, did his best to spend time with Ladybug as much as possible. “Shouldn't she want to talk to me if she likes me, though?”

His kwami shrugged. “Maybe. What difference does it make, anyway?”

“It makes a lot of difference,” Adrien said without thinking, and then paused. Why did it make a difference? They had gotten their project done, despite the lack of communication, and it was probably for the best that he didn't ask her about the valentine. There wasn't much of a reason to be so suddenly bothered by her seeming aversion towards talking to him when it had never bothered him like this before.

The answer came to him a few seconds later, and he shoved it away. No, that couldn't be it.

There was no way on earth he was starting to have a crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

#drabble #miraculous ladybug #adrinette #otp #miraculous fanfic #valentines & denial 2.0

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mcufandomhatespeopleofcolor · 7 years

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Iron Fist: Season 1

Well here we are again with another one of my mod v watches. I’m about to start watching this garbage fire of a show. Wish me luck.

EPISODE 1:

This is petty but this intro is so fucking irritating.

Okay this first fight scene is not that bad. I’ve seen worse.

So here’s a question. Why the hell didn’t Danny say some shit only he would know?? Like I was waiting and waiting for that to happen and it never did so i’M JUST LIKE...

HE BROKE INTO HER HOUSE?????

This homeless guy pissing in shoes is extra extra weird.

It took him long e-fucking-nough to mention somewhat personal stuff.

AND OH MY GOD ARE YOU KIDDING. he had to do a fucking jump flip? that was so excessive and what the hell.

I mean it’s great Colleen could speak the language but it just rubs me the wrong way that he even like decided to do that.

I am totally here for Colleen thinking he’s gonna be a janitor.

Ward: he’s playing on our emotions

Me: WHAT EMOTIONS WARD.

Like I can already tell this dude is no good. Why are all dudes namedWard in the MCU trash?

I swear to god this has gotta be the worse way to fucking make people realize you are who you are?? He’s breaking in places, kidnapping fucking people, pointing guns at them what the fuck??

what is the purpose of this homeless guy? Also I feel like it’s a fucking lie that people lived to their 70s in the past.

His surprise that she’s the master is sexist as fuck and I just kinda wanna slap him. Also he has no fucking boundaries like you are not entitled to be in this woman’s dojo. Show some fucking respect

Okay I guess this is kind of subjective. The fight scenes aren’t that bad. Like I said tho I’ve seen better.

HIS DAD IS ALIVE?? what is going on.

If we didn't already know that Ward was a bad guy this entire setup with his dad and this monologue would be a giveaway. Also be honest cause I know I wouldn’’t be able to keep it to myself that this dude faked his own death.

Ward is so sure this can’t be Danny like there weren’t aliens and shit raining out of the sky and a literal fucking NORSE GOD as we understand it fighting them and some other shit and shit like what is wrong with the people who live in the MCU??

I am tired of him speaking in sayings and proverbs or whatever. Jesus that is just??

EPISODE 2:

Wait wait. What is this?? Who is about to murder this guy?? Also how did he get involuntarily committed like how did this even happen?

Oh man she drugged him. Daaaamn. She’s gonna feel so fucking bad when she realizes.

“we’re not bad guys” lol whatever.

Okay he does sound out of his mind.

I FUCKING REITERATE ALIENS HAVE RAINED HELL ON THE EARTH. I’M PRETTY SURE THERE ARE FUCKING INHUMANS RUNNING AROUND AND THIS DOCTOR CAN’T BELIEVE DANNY’S STORY?

I am not at all surprised that no one is barely paying attention to the fact Colleen just beat up these kids lol. Or did whatever. But that was pretty cool.

Funny. The guy tried to kill Danny is his tour guide.

Why are they just allowed to do this to these people?

This is fucking ridiculous. Homeboy is linked up everywhere. This is so illegal.

The QUICKEST and I mean QUICKEST way to get Colleen helping Danny is to try and bribe her like. Lol just forge her signature?

Is he about to beat this kid? Or...is he about t murder this kid? Get the car ready sounds so damn ominous.

OOH PROOF. PROOF. PROOF. PROOF.

Hey can’t they just age his picture up? Like I feel like that would be better fucking proof.

It’s okay if you can be bought. It’s fine. I’m okay with Colleen being okay with being bought. She needs it.

And it fucking hits her. It’s him he took out all the brown m&ms.

I really need homegirl to ignore Ward and get him out of there

I’m tired. I’m tired. I would legitimately lie about all of it anything to get out.

The the that’s being put in front of iron fist is really off putting. I hate it.

EPISODE 3:

They made a really bad decision breaking into Colleen’s place with so few people lol.

Ward definitely deserved that hit.

“I’m worried for your safety” NIGGA SHE LITERALLY BEAT UP THREE GUYS ON HER OWN. SHE DOESN’T NEED YOU.“

HER DAD HAS BEEN DEAD FOR ATLEAST A DECADE WHAT THE FUCK. is this some resurrection type ship.

My name would be changed in a heart beat. 100 million. Fuck yes.

Did they just do a flash back to him getting beaten to justify what he did to that kid?? Because that’s some bullshit. No excuses.

I am not here for Colleen telling this young Black man he’s dishonoring himself because he’s using his skills to support his family.

I don’t have any trust in Hogarth [sp?] the attorney but she is good as fuck

Is this dude literally talking about respecting the dojo?? He disrespected Colleen I don’t know how many fucking times

Is this grown ass man really about to fucking mess with these teenagers?? And he just compared these kids to monkeys. Bruh. That’s RACIST.

I’m so tired of him he sounds so forceful either everything he says.

What the fuck. What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK. He doesn’t GET TO DO THAT SHIT.

Okay the sister isn’t as goody goody as I thought.

Okay what part of stay low. Keep a low profile.

Colleen "The Hypocrite” Weng. I hope she’s called out for this.

That twirl and take off her hood was pretty hot.

She lost her SHIT.

I’m really bored with this dad and son shit.

EPISODE 4:

“You are really pushing the limits of karma” I’M TIRED OF THESE LINES.

This gullible motherfucker. This gullible MOTHER FUCKER.

I’M tired.

I’m so glad she called herself a hypocrite. I’m glad it was addressed.

I’m surprised he managed to not say “I’m the Iron Fist.” I was definitely expecting some Tony Stark type shit.

Now that’s how you use your power.

So DR is rich now. He needs to do some shit for Colleen.

“51% shareholder dick” hidden gems. Hidden gems.

Colleen’s cage fights are my fave thing.

Every time Danny talks about his time in K'un L'un I’m just exhausted.

Are the stances he’s doing real? They feel like corny stereotypical white guy Kung Fu stances. It might be just cause he’s doing them.

STOP DRAGGING COLLEEN INTO THIS SHIT

I really wish she would consider taking this money. Come on Colleen.

Did this dude really think he was gonna survive that?? Lol. No.

EPISODE 5:

Followers beginning of episode 5 there’s a lot of talk about heroin and even some heroin use.

So while Danny does sound out of it with this “it’s all connected” Ward’s father LITERALLY came back to life like…just believe.

Awh the sister is growing a conscience.

CLAIRE CLAIRE CLAIRE. I thought I had another episode before I saw her!! What a pleasant surprise!!

You would think Ward would know by now to listen to his father.

I love that Claire got herself a meal out of this. I don’t like the matchmaking with C&D. C can do so much better

Ooh playing the student card. Dirty dirty.

HE BOUGHT HER BUILDING?? Yall that is creepy and manipulative as fuck what the fuck

It is really not the time to be trynna make romantic moves.

CLAIRE IS CLUTCH

Claire is tired of superhero nonsense.

Homeboy took his death like a champ.

EPISODE 6:

Danny has fucked shit up like the least he could do is be there to fix it. I’m just saying. You’ve got multiple responsibilities.

Claire just thinking what all of us are thinking. I’m here for it.

A little fear and doubt is healthy friend.

This old lady is everywhere.

Danny’s surprise that there are women fighters is ridiculous.

Why hasn’t he used the iron fist yet?? Also these fights are so boring. I really just wanna fast forward through them.

I’m a bit salty that the people dealing with drug addiction are either Black or the villain.

Colleen loves fucking people up to the next level and they got the scientist back. Lovely.

I like them insulting Danny.

FINALLY HE USES HIS FUCKING HAND.

They can’t even follow a fucking code?? That’s some bullshit. But not unexpected.

I’m glad he didn’t let her die.

I didn’t realize madam Gao had fucking powers.

I mean madam Gao has a fucking point. I’d take it tbh.

“Sounds like a sex toy” 😂😂😂

OH MY GOD THAT WAS SOME SHIT LOLOL. HIS LIE WAS CAUGHT.

Am I the only one who feels like this romance between D & C is totally unnecessary and trash because Danny is in it???

I wanna gag at this morning after scene.

What the fuck is he doing????

Listening to Colleen call Danny inspiring is also making me gag.

It really says something about DR as a character that I hate him when he’s doing the right thing. Like shutting down the plant and keeping people on the payroll? Brilliant! Still hate him.

EPISODE 7:

Home boy owns majority shares can they even do that.

HE JUST MURDERED HIS FATHER

Claire the voice of reason. But does Danny listen? Nope.

I like this drunk guy. He’s cool. He just used his butt against Danny lol. I’m here for Danny getting beat by this guy

“A man fights with his mouth when his fist are lacking.” Okay but his fist aren’t lacking lol.

Where’s the honor Danny?? WHERE’S THE HONOR IN BEATING HIM TO A BLOODY PULP

Really kid. You wasted your fist on not killing her???

Also this was my fave fight scene BY FAR

EPISODE 8:

How old is she?? 17th Century??

Oh my God I’m so glad Claire learned to fight. It’s such a treat seeing her beat people up. Yes the fuck it is

Also if COLLEEN dies for this fuck face I’m gonna be livid.

Fuck Kyle. OH MY GOD.

Do you know what would make this show infinitely better?? If in healing Colleen she became the iron fist. Oh my God. That would have been amazing.

EPISODE 9:

UGH enough with the lovey dovey.

Did Bakudo really just say this guy was marginalized?? WHAT IS THIS SHOW.

What the fuck is the wiretapping shit??

OH MY GOD IT IS THE HAND. WOW.

Look we know the hand is bad but did he really just say she grew up inside of a cult?? Like what the fuck was the monastery??

I’m always salty when one of the few Black people in a show dies.

Fuck Colleen really got these kids involved. Damn this is terrible.

I really love Davos. He’s the dopest.

Ooh shit he turned off his power.

EPISODE 10:

Danny gets mad when people call him a child but he keeps having fucking temper tantrums.

They were legit about to torture Colleen. The only Asian person on this fucking show with anywhere near the screen time as Danny. And y'all still think this isn’t racist??

He didn’t even get the Iron Fist to protect the people. He got it to fix his fucking self. That’s such bullshit. All Davos wanted was to serve and protect.

EPISODE 11:

I’m glad Colleen has come to her senses.

OH MY GOD HE SHOT JOY. WHAT THE FUCK

EPISODE 12:

Welp it’s over.

I will say this I really liked the line about not just being the Iron Fist but also Danny Rand. Which to me said he wasn’t just some mystical guy that knows Kung Fu and that would have been perfect if DR was Asian American.

#mod v #mod v watches #mod v watches iron fist #iron fist #danny rand

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star-nova · 5 years

Text

The Lives of the RiffRaff: Charmain Dekker-Frankfort

We Are the RiffRaff Rickie Johnson-The Art of War Vera Sherwood-Little Sister Kali Muburu-Hair Tracy Kwan-Vergil Franz Fawke-Hecklers James Weaver-The Preacher Mamoru Hayagawa-Three Weddings

Tanager's no different from any other little mountain town. If you stand from its highest point, the old unmanned fire tower that has long been taken over by the woods, you can see the Alleghenies way off in the distance. They stand tall and proud like the watchful guardians of us all, and sometimes I wonder if they see us with the eyes of fellow RiffRaff or the same critical eyes as the Others. Do those mountains see my garden, and if so, do they too see it as an “attractive nuisance?”

I catch a lot of hell for letting the neighborhood kids play in my garden. But it's the kind of garden that kids want to play in, and what kind of wicked witch would I be if I put up a fence and hollered at them? When I was a little girl, a garden like this would lead to hours of roaming and running, fairy hunting and tea-partying, and conversations with distinguished ladybugs and praying mantises. If I love to play in my garden, why shouldn't I let anyone else? It's the perfect garden for games of tag, for scrambling under rhododendrons and for climbing big old trees. To be so crotchety as to order these kids out would be an act of true cruelty that the world needs a lot less of.

The kids call me “Auntie Charmain.” Their parents call me “That Crazy Lady Down the Street.” It makes me laugh. I know real crazy ladies; they don't have tea parties with the neighborhood kids and give them fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. Crazy ladies hollered “Raaaaah!” right in their faces if they so much as looked at them and slammed a metal nightstick against the fence when they passed by. Crazy ladies sat on their front porch steps sharpening their knives, smiling menacingly at anybody who walked by. Kids avoided the hell out of crazy ladies. No child would call my across-the-street neighbor “Auntie Talia.”

Talia Santiago is the boogeyman of Tanager, six feet of rage and uninhibited impulses in the shape and form of a twenty-nine-year-old Portuguese woman. She hails all the way from Frankfort, and any explanation for why she came all the way to little Tanager is left up to local legend. The most common speculation, of course, is that she's on the run from the law. The more savvy of us—myself included—know that Talia's far too well-acquainted with the law to be running from it. The law is Talia's personal plaything that she has wrapped around her little finger. She used to be a cop. She claims to be “retired,” but we all know the truth. Various speculations on just what she had done to warrant her discharge were passed around like ghost stories. Either way, she knew the law just well enough to ensure that even her most brutal antics fell just within its lines. She had never once been to jail, and it's likely her police connections had something to do with that as well.

Talia loves anything and everything that causes pain to others. Knives are her favorite, and she has quite the collection, but she appreciates the effectiveness of a gun as well. She cemented our unusual friendship by leading me into a locked broom closet and showing me her “treasure,” a Glock 19X. “Ask me where I got it,” she said as she looked upon the cold steel like a loving mother looking upon her child.

“I don't think I want to,” I told her.

“Good,” she said, slamming the case shut, “because it's none of your damned business.” From then on, whenever I laid eyes on Talia I could not unsee that Glock. Even on the rare occasions when she did normal-people things, I knew she must have had that thing concealed somewhere on her person. I wish she had never decided she liked me enough to show it to me.

Our relationship with the Others was one of mutual confusion and annoyance. They have no idea why are the way we are, and that caused the unease that typically comes to people in the presence of the unknown. Talia was the only one we knew who actually hated the Others just for being Others. Their greatest transgression, in her eyes, was that they were Others, and it was a crime worthy of any amount of hostility. “They hate us,” she justified, “so they deserve any damn thing they get. I'm gonna keep on showing them what it means to fuck with us.” What she doesn't get is that a lack of understanding does not equal hate. She's just so full of her own hate that she attributes it all to them. It's the only way that she can understand why we have to be RiffRaff.

So while the neighborhood kids leave my garden with arms full of flowers and bellies full of brownies, Talia rips the wings off butterflies and chucks the bodies at their feet. While other towns have alleged ghosts and theorized haunts and haints, Tanager has Talia Santiago. She is disconcertingly real.

Talia's thirtieth birthday came around in the middle of June. She had a party, and I went because if I didn't, only James and Arthur would be there. Even Talia deserved to have everybody she considered a friend at her milestone birthday. Besides, it would give me the chance to bake a cake, which I loved to do but never got a chance to. It would be my gift—I knew better than to get her another weapon, which is what she wanted. I also knew that if I gave her flowers from my shop, I would later find their chopped-up remains strung along her front lawn.

I had expected to see James and Arthur and nobody else, so when I found Sophia and Elsie Bolshevik along with Ellia Rambeau, I nearly dropped the cake I was holding. Talia busted up laughing at my shock. “S'matter, Charmain,” she said in her signature knife-like tone, “you thought you were my only friend?”

“Well...” I fumbled around for the right thing to say. “I just..I didn't know you were close with Ellia and the sisters.” I set my cake down in the center of the table.

“She isn't,” Elsie said flatly, and then I was spooked. I had the eerie feeling that the girls had been forced to come here by some very sharp object, or worse.

“So...what are you doing here, then?” My god, it was probably the worst thing to say, and I saw Talia looking at me out of the corner of her eye. But I needed to reassure myself.

“We're here because it's her birthday,” Sophia told me, and then it all made sense. Sophia, one of the sweetest among the RiffRaff, couldn't stand the idea of anybody being snubbed on their thirtieth birthday, especially not a fellow RiffRaff. She'd come here out of a feeling of necessity, and brought her sister and her best friend with her. In that moment, I admired the hell out of Sophia for her bravery, as she was utterly terrified of both Talia and Arthur the rest of the time.

There was a shiny new motorcycle parked in the driveway, and Talia caught me eyeing it. “Present from Uncle Sal,” she said. “He had it sent all the way over from Frankfort.”

“It's lovely,” I said.

“You wanna take a ride?” “Thank you, but I'll pass.”

“I do!” Arthur jumped up out of his seat, spilling his poker cards everywhere.

“Sure ya do,” Talia said, and gestured for him to follow her. I was grateful for the opportunity to talk to Ellia and the sisters in peace while those two tore up the town. I didn't mind having James around; he never spoke, and he was totally harmless.

“I got a very important announcement when I get back,” Talia said, “so make sure they don't walk out on me, Charmain.”

“We'll be here,” I assured her. “Is it all right if I pour them some lemonade and iced tea?” There was wine, but Sophia didn't drink and I preferred not to most of the time.

“Pour 'em whatever you want,” Talia said with a shrug. “Cut your arm and offer 'em your blood for all I care.”

When Talia returned, and after she had taken James around for a ride, she said, “I'll be going back to Frankfort.”

“You're moving?” I was surprised at just how upsetting the news was to me. As bad as she was, I couldn't imagine life in Tanager without Talia. She was one of the only things that set us apart from every other mountain-rimmed little Southern town.

But she said, “Hell no, I'm not moving. I'm just going over there to catch up with my family. I ain't seen 'em in a good, long while, and my brothers wanna see me now that I've turned thirty and all.” Talia had one older brother and three younger. She was the only girl.

“I'll take good care of your bike while you're out,” Arthur said.

“It'll be the last thing you do,” Talia assured him.

“Well, now.” I didn't quite know what to say. Things would certainly be different around here without Talia. “I hope you have a nice time,” I said finally. “Give my regards to your brothers, and if you need anybody to watch the house, I'll...”

“You ain't watching the house,” Talia said, “you're coming with me.”

“Pardon?” I'd have been less stunned if she told me we were going to Mars.

“Do I fucking stutter?” Talia asked. “I said your ass is coming with me. And so are the rest of you ladies.”

Sophia visibly paled. “Me too?” she squeaked. The poor thing looked like she was going to faint.

“Just the girls?” Arthur asked, only a little disappointed.

Talia nodded. “This is gonna be a girl thing. We don't need your dicks flopping around everywhere.”

The guys were unbothered; with Talia gone, Arthur would have to take her place as the local boogeyman.

“But why do you want us?” I asked. “I mean...don't you want a private affair with your family?”

“Hell no,” Talia said. Then, “To be honest, Charmain, I've been planning to bring you round my homeland for a long time now. Sweet little country girls like you need at least a certain amount of exposure to the city. Besides, my bros want to meet you. I told 'em about you, and they're shocked to death that I have a friend like you at all.”

I, too, was shocked to death that Talia had a friend like me at all. But it made me more than a little uneasy to know she had told her brothers about me; who else had she told about me? Nobody knew what Talia did for herself after her discharge from the force, but a network of shady connections was the stuff of rumor. Pushing my discomfort aside, I simply said, “I see.”

“So why do you want us too?” Ellia asked.

“Same reason,” Talia said, playing with the cake-cutting knife.

“You told your brothers about us?” Sophia asked.

“No,” she said, “but they're gonna learn.” She ran the knife over her fingertips a few times, and her smile was as cryptic as what she had just said. She stood up and sank the knife into my double-layer red velvet cake (the color of blood, in honor of the birthday girl), taking off the H in “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TALIA.”

“And you're gonna learn,” she went on, “that this shithole town is nothing like the real world.” She served the first slice of cake to me instead of to herself.

The more I thought about it, the better two weeks in Frankfort sounded. I had been a country girl all of my life and had never been to any city larger than Stonesville, which was more of a gentrified suburb than a true city. My best friend Anna had been to Washington a few times, but when she returned she was never in much of a hurry to go back again. Either you embraced urban life, or you stayed right here in the country among the trees, dirt roads, and the birds for which Tanager was named.

Here in Tanager, I was one of the town misfits, the “RiffRaff.” The neighbors didn't trust a woman who spent so much time with the neighborhood kids, nor did they trust one who still romped about in gardens and made little houses for fairies. Some older ladies caught me talking to Prince, one of my tallest hydrangeas, and muttered that I may not be “all right in the head.” The poor kids who were warned against visiting “Auntie Charmain” would stand on the other side of the street and watch with longing as the other kids hopped on my stepping stones and scrambled in and out of my pink rhododendrons. It made me terribly sad, both because I could see how much they wanted to come over and play and because they were made to see me as something that I'm not.

Then there were the ones who cared more about my hooked nose and my slight harelip than they did about my garden. They called me a witch and told stories about hexes and potions and children baked into cookies and pies. “If you go in there,” I heard a boy of about twelve say to his younger siblings, “she'll put you in her oven, and bake you into brownies. That stuff she feeds to the kids is made out of other kids who got lost in there.”

“Hey, kiddo,” I told him, “telling lies to scare your siblings is a very mean thing to do.” But they took off down the road, screaming the whole way, and it almost made me cry. I only hoped that one of my regular visitors would set them straight later on--”She's not a witch, she's Auntie Charmain!”

Thinking all this over cemented my decision to go to Frankfort. Would I be RiffRaff there too? Or would I transform into someone completely different when I took my first step into that capital city, like Cinderella when she stepped out of the carriage that had once been a pumpkin?

In the end, we all decided to go to Frankfort—Sophia, Elsie, Ellia, and me. “It'll be new,” Elsie told me. “Talia's right, country girls should see the city at least once in their lives.” I was incredibly grateful that I wouldn't have to be alone with Talia in a strange city, and so with all of that said and done, we prepared to leave for Frankfort on the 15th of June. We'd be riding in Talia's Subaru the whole way there.

I trusted Anna with the care of the house and garden. “Remember,” I told her as I was giving her the keys, “if any of the kids want to come by and play, go ahead and let them.” I doubted the kids would show up without me there, but it never hurt to give a heads-up. Anna did not object to allowing them in. Melinda Andrews, who had just graduated high school and had yet to find a job, was willing to cover my position at the flower shop for the next two weeks.

The day before we left, Talia went down to the park and stood up on the ledge of the central fountain. The security guards eyed her with distaste, but as she wasn't standing in the fountain, they had nothing to say. “So long, ya bastards!” Talia hollered at the top of her lungs. “I'm outta here!”

Nobody paid her any mind. It was just Talia being Talia.

#Fiction by Me #The Lives of the RiffRaff #writing #work in progress

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