#highly acclaimed university | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

Text

She finds out about it a few weeks after her classes start. It happens by chance, and almost seems too good to be true.

But it's not.

The University of Illinois does actually have its own newspaper for gays and lesbians. It exists, made explicitly for them, by them.

And Robin needs it.

It requires some snooping, though it's basically nothing after everything she did at Starcourt. Soon enough, she is $8.50 ($7.50 for a yearly subscription and $0.5 each for the two previous issues) poorer in dollars and infinitely richer in happiness.

People Like Us: News, opinions, and features for the C-U gay and lesbian community it says on the front page. Issues 2 and 3 are both 8 pages long while the first issue is slightly shorter. They have everything. News about marches in Chicago and local gay-friendly businesses. Opinion pieces on places to meet up and homophobia. Roommate ads, reviews, and personal stories. News about AIDS. And, in the very back, a blurb proclaiming LESBIAN CONTRIBUTORS WANTED.

Maybe that'll be her one day. She's no Nancy, but she can write. For now, though, she's content with reading. It's almost overwhelming to hold the papers, knowing that it's made by people like her. That someone like her might be reading the same words at the same time. Less lonely, in a way.

No one else on campus knows about her. Ellen, her dorm mate, seems fine so far, but Robin won't take her chances just yet. She struck gold with Steve, Eddie, and the kids, but someday her luck will run out. So she hides the issues in a hard folder under her mattress whenever she isn't reading.

Then she gets the October issue in her hand and nearly dies of excitement. On the front page, the news section is announcing that "two highly acclaimed gay/lesbian films are set to appear on campus this month". The groundbreaking Desert Hearts and Parting Glances will be screened four times each, one week apart from each other, at the end of the month.

At her first opportunity, she calls and tells Steve about it.

"You have to come and see them with me!" she says. "I can't go alone!"

So he does, and he barely complains about the 3-hour drive.

On Sunday, October 19, he shows up at 7 in front of her building. They catch up while having a bite to eat before the film. It's mostly her talking, blabbing about classes and professors and new people and Illinois and the college experience while he chews his half of the pizza, staring at her with big eyes that scream I missed you, I missed you, I missed you!

She takes every chance she gets to knock their feet together under the table and clutches his arm on their way to the film. Just in case her own eyes don't scream it back loud enough.

By the time Desert Hearts starts, she's giddy. She knows only what the newspaper told her: that it's about a soon-to-be-divorced college professor meeting a lesbian country girl in Reno in the 50s, and that it includes a 'climactic lovemaking scene'. Both facts have her squirming with excitement, her seat squeaking beneath her.

The lights go out and the movie starts. It's slow-paced and atmospheric, using the Nevada scenery to its advantage. Parts of it are actually really slow, but she doesn't mind, especially not as it builds and builds toward Vivian ultimately accepting her attraction to Cay.

Steve is with her from beginning to end, scoffing at the antagonistic stepmother, squeezing her hand when the lovers are separated, and squeezing some more when they're reunited. When they reach the intimate scene, he gasps loudly. Then both of them succumb to a giggle fit and must stifle themselves lest they be thrown out. The newspaper was right – it is pretty hot stuff.

There's no dramatic declaration of love at the end, no the ending is as slow and quiet as the rest of it. Still, it hits hard. A sledgehammer to the chest, shattering her ribs and smearing her heart all over. Because these women look each other in the eyes and say 'I love you'. They say 'I want you'. They say 'she just reached in and put a string of lights around my heart', and they say it like it's normal. Which, Robin knows it is. But her world is small and their world is the silver screen and they say it like it's normal.

Steve turns to her when the credits roll and the lights come back on, saying it was good. But when she looks at him, his face falls. Arms wrapping around her, he pulls her into his lap and guides her face into the crook of his neck. Fingers cramping where they clutch his shirt, she buries herself deep and cries, cries, cries. She thinks she hears someone ask if she's okay, but Steve shoos them off, so it doesn't matter.

He walks her home in comfortable silence. As they stop outside her building he tucks her hair behind her ear and offers to stay with her. But she tells him no – he has work in the morning, so she'll have to make do without him.

The responsible thing to do after waving him off is go to bed, wake up early for class. Instead, she steers her step to the nearest payphone and punches in a California number. Minutes later she's got Vickie on the line, wondering if she's okay and if she's been crying. Robin reassures her, then recounts the evening. Soon Vickie's bell of a laughter envelops her; they discuss who's the Cay to whose Vivian until Robin runs out of coins.

Next week, Steve is back and they do it all over again, except this time they eat burgers. They even snatch the same seats they had the previous screening.

Parting Glances follows a gay couple for 24 hours of their daily life. Because they're established, their intimate scene happens much earlier. Steve's muttering about how unfair it is that it's less explicit than the lesbian scene has pride burn in her chest, even as she shushes him.

All in all, it's a really good film. It doesn't hit her as hard since it's about gay men and no lesbians, but it still hits. Again, because it's presented as something normal. They're people in love, and they have jobs and problems and dreams and friends. The hardest hit of them all is Nick, who has AIDS but not in a pitiful way. He's a rockstar with a sense of humor, still cool and charismatic. Sexy, even, thanks to the oozing confidence and the intensity of his gaze.

Steve is quietly contemplative on the way out. She slips her hand into his and lets him think. It's first when they're halfway home that she breaks the silence. Spinning so she's walking backward in front of him, him holding her waist to steer her away from lampposts and curbs, she asks:

"Did you like it?"

"I did. But it left me a little sad." He shrugs. "I just hope Nick survives and gets back together with Michael."

She chews the inside of her cheek. "I don't know if… I mean, AIDS is-"

"I know, Robbie, I'm keeping myself up to date. Or I try. It's just… It's very…" Steve sighs, shaking his head. "You know."

And she does know. The fear of being targeted and the frustration of being helpless. The fury of knowing diseases are supposed to be cured, until the ones affected are people who aren't supposed to exist in the first place.

Steve says, "I think he'll be okay. Nick."

"Yeah," she says, a little choked up.

"And he and Michael will be happy."

"Yes."

"And Cay will stay on the train, or Vivian will return to Nevada, and they'll be together. For real."

"They will. And even if they don't," she reaches up to cup his cheeks, caressing his stubbled jawline, "they'll have someone else. Someone just as good. Or better."

His gaze on her is heavy and bright, boring through, seeing inside. He nods.

"Or better," he says.

With that, he grabs and swings her around (in a pretty impressive move, not that she'll admit it to him) until she's latched onto his back. Then he carries her home.

It's maybe 50 degrees out, so not freezing but enough to leave you shivering if your jacket is old and getting threadbare, like Robin's. She's not cold, though, because Steve always runs hot. His back is firm and his grip on her thighs is secure; she burrows into him, absorbing his warmth and familiar scent. Lulled, not to sleep per se, but to rest by his even strides, she dreams of all the beautiful things she wants to have, and even more vividly of the things she wants to keep.

------------------------------

People Like Us was a real newspaper. You can find the issues that helped inspire this fic here.

(Oh, and you should really watch both those films if you haven't already.)

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stobin #platonic stobin #robin buckley #steve harrington #just taking a short break from november paramedic to finish this #my writing

563 notes · View notes

rabbiteclair · 3 months

Text

game development sims are about envisioning a better world where the hit games this year are

Bonchy Boy VIII, the latest entry in the most critically acclaimed RPG series of all time, which is apparently about dwarves in a religious war, and definitely was not supposed to be this universe's equivalent of Final Fantasy or I would have named the first entry something better than fucking Bonchy Boy

Carred and Feathered 6: 2 Whiskey 2 Risky, the latest entry in the most critically acclaimed racing series of all time, which promotes irresponsible alcohol consumption habits (and spiritual sequel to the fourth installment, Carred and Feathered 4: Risky Whiskey)

Skeletons of France: Tibias in Tibet, the fourth entry in the Skeletons of France fighting game series which is apparently about French skeletons going around the world getting into fights (with other skeletons presumably). also highly respected but it's frankly a cash grab where the skeletons just go to whatever area is thematically popular with consumers at the moment

Who The Fuck Asked For This? the building sim that started out as me making Minecraft as a joke and I just kept having to make joking 'haha lol who would play a game about mining and crafting, that's a wild concept' titles for the sequels

and of course Kissaroo From Me 2 U, the sequel to the visual novel Angel Kissaroos which was so impactful that it made angel-themed visual novels the major video game fad for like two years in the late 2010s

#mad games tycoon 2 is the game i actually wanted out of game dev tycoon

105 notes · View notes

vixentheplanet · 10 months

Text

illicit nights

“a little less conversation and a little more touch my body.”

shuri x black!reader | 18+

Summary: You were born and raised in Wakanda, but you chose to leave to pursue a modeling career. You've amassed global fame as an international model, gracing runway shows, featuring in luxury campaigns, and appearing in fashion magazines. You're in the spotlight, and the entire world is watching your every move. After a very public breakup, you decide to return home to reconnect with your country and the people you love.

You didn't expect to catch the attention of your sister's best friend in your attempt to get over your heartbreak, let alone end up in a private sexual relationship with said friend. The Wakandan Queen.

word count: 5.9k

themes: model/famous reader, queen shuri, childhood friends, hookups

warnings: sex, drinking, idk i forget y’all read this before

hi! 🤧😔 this is actually kinda hard because i never title my stories in the documents and i make copies when i’m editing in case i delete something and i want it so i’m going through so many documents to find the right one and then all the outfits are gone. i can’t remember the themes and warnings i put… anyways, y’all good sister is back up

When you decided not to attend Wakanda University to pursue a modeling career, you did not doubt that you would succeed. Your parents wanted you to follow in the footsteps of your elder sister, but subjects like physics and calculus never piqued your interest. There was a lot of debate regarding your decisions, especially when you told your family that you were leaving Wakanda. Many Wakandans live beyond the borders, but you weren't looking for a simple life.

You were blessed with breathtaking beauty and the qualities for which others were willing to pay millions. It's hardly surprising with a face like yours, in just a few years, your career has skyrocketed to unfathomable heights, catapulting you into worldwide fame. Every fashion week, you're on the runway, traveling worldwide for campaigns, fittings, and numerous billboards of your face.

While you like the acclaim and spotlight, you quickly learn that being such a public figure in the entertainment industry has drawbacks. You have been in a highly publicized relationship with actress Mya Hope for nearly two years. Maybe it was your naivety, being new to everyone, but you and Mya hit it off immediately. It was lovely initially, but as your relationship progressed, it was just continuous disputes, mistrust, and resentment. You endured it because you expected things to change one day, but then Mya cheated. You learned through a gossip article that several individuals provided you with via text and social media.

Because her infidelity provided concrete evidence that things weren't working out between the two of you, you broke up. It was awful after the public found out. You've had relationships in the past, but they were the silly childlike attachments all kids have as time passes. Nothing has ever been this long or public. Being followed around and pressured into making a statement about something so personal was a culture shock. Who in their right mind wants to expose their private grievances to the rest of the world?

This month was an emotional roller coaster, and after wrapping up a photo shoot for Dior's upcoming campaign, you instructed your manager not to arrange anything else. You needed some alone time and wanted to go home and rest away from everything and everyone—home, not LA.

With the help of your older sister, Izara, by the end of the week, you'll be back in the safety of your rightful home, Wakanda.

Your mother never approved of Mya, and despite your best efforts to keep your family informed, she had kept up with your activities in your work through Western media, including your relationship. You guessed it was because she was afraid you'd end up permanently residing outside of Wakanda, but maybe mother intuition told her the relationship wasn’t right for her daughter.

When you arrived at the house where you'd grown up and rushed back to your mother's arms, she didn't criticize or tell you that you should have listened. "I expected you to say I told you so." You inform her.

"A mother can only guide her child and hope that they will listen, but it's our responsibility to be here when you fall," she adds as she pulls you tight.

The next day, your sister comes over first thing in the morning. Izara was four years older than you. You two were close; she was your elder sibling, and you naturally respected her intelligence and accomplishments. However, as you matured, you came to see that you had different interests despite your shared affection for one another. While Izara excelled at technology and engineering, you discovered a love of fashion and beauty. You loved your nation and knew you could build a successful career in Wakanda once you found you wanted to be a model, but you wanted to be known worldwide.

Being the baby of the family, it was difficult for your family to accept that you were going, but they realized deep down that there wasn't much they could do to influence you or your choices. As they witnessed your success, your family became increasingly supportive and proud. The only disadvantage is that your career has kept you away from Wakanda and the people you care about. It was challenging to find time to return home while growing your profession. You weren't worried about taking time off now that you were in a secured position in the industry.

“What are you moving back in?” Your sister makes a joke about all the things you brought. One packing rule you had was that it was better to be cautious than sorry. You’d rather overpack than need something thousands of miles away. After all, you didn't arrive by plane. A Wakandan aircraft had no weight restrictions.

Your mother is quick to reprimand her. “Hush. My child is always welcome to come back.”

“I- I don’t know about moving back yet,” You admit, dismissing any thoughts your mother has about you moving in. "But, I'll be here a little while." Though you did not intend to stay in Wakanda indefinitely, you weren't in a hurry to go. The combination of fresh air and your mom's homemade pastries positively impacted your mood.

Later, you and your sister relaxed in the living room while your mother was in the kitchen. She was so excited to see both of her daughters under the same roof after such a long period that she rushed to prepare tea and lime cake. Your favorites. “No moping. Your sadness is going to make me sad,” Izara says, frowning at you.

"I'm not moping," you say with a sigh. “It wasn’t even going to last. We fought a lot. I knew I was unhappy, but all the attention was overwhelming. It simply has to blow over." Your sister was the only person who understood the ins and outs of your previous relationship. She was your closest confidante and had warned you to leave Mya so often that she was probably exhausted by how stubborn you were.

Izara hums understandingly. “Don’t worry. It will. Those silly foreigners will find something else trivial and pointless to focus on. In the meantime, you need to be out and enjoy being single.” She advises. “Like, when’s the last time you had sex?”

“Izara, shut up,” there’s a warning in your tone. You confided in your sister about many things, but that was where you drew the line. She didn't need to know what you did, and you didn’t need to know what she did. Though the question did make you think, it’s been over a month since the initial break up, and you and Mya had long stopped being intimate. The passion just wasn’t there.

Izara is always persistent and keeps talking. “What! We’re both grown. We can talk about that now.”

“Absolutely not.” You groan, deciding to change the conversation to focus on your sister, “How is work?” She’d recently been promoted at her job working in the laboratory at the palace. She had called to tell you, but you had been in the midst of a photoshoot. Part of you felt bad you couldn’t give her your full attention upon hearing the news.

As the director of research methodologies, she spent a great deal of time in the various villages conducting focus groups to determine where improvements were needed. She then brought the data back to the lab, where they worked to enhance the areas that needed it. “It's incredible. I feel good knowing that my work has a positive influence.” Your sister has always been active in the community, dedicating her life to helping others.

“That’s amazing, Izara. I’m proud of you.” You say because you genuinely are, even though you didn’t take after your sister and her love for science. Her drive and passion are admirable. “It’s okay. It’s your job not to be fucked up so I can be the rebellious one.”

That gets a laugh out of your sister. You’ve missed that sound. “Not to brag, but I’ve been considering returning to University for my Ph.D.. Shuri is encouraging me.”

Shuri. Since childhood, the Princess, now Queen of Wakanda, was your sister's best friend. They attended the same primary school and connected instantly. You recall when Izara snuck Shuri into your home for a playdate, unbeknownst to your mother and the King and Queen. The Dora Milaje arrived at your mother's home with spears in hand before learning that the mischievous princess had sneaked away to play with her new companion. Your cheeks rise as you recall that day. "There's that smile again!"

“Just remember the time you almost got our entire family executed.” You chuckle, and Izara groans. She hates this story.

“We didn’t know any better!” After that day, Queen Ramonda invited your sister to the palace to play to prevent any other misunderstandings. Shuri would occasionally come to your house, allowing the two girls to form a lasting bond. “You had the biggest crush on her. You used to follow us around whenever she’d come over,” Izara added, laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

For the record, it was a brief crush. The wooden doll house you had collapsed a few weeks before your seventh birthday, and you cried all night about it. Shuri presented you with a fully equipped doll house for your birthday. You recall looking on with wide eyes as she demonstrated all of the functions, the lights switched on, and water poured out of the sink. Still, you'd never acknowledge it. “I did not have a crush on her. I was following you. I wanted to be just like you until I realized how boring you were.” You snickered. A look of disbelief crosses your sister's face, and you laugh harder.

"I should thank Shuri," you say once you've quieted down. When you told Izara you were planning to return home, she enlisted the assistance of her best friend, who made every effort to ensure your safe arrival. You're not sure you could have endured another moment amid the chaos.

“You should, and she would love to see you.” Your sister agrees. “I have to go to the office tomorrow. Actually, we can stop over there, and then we can go to the shops. I have to buy Aneka a birthday gift.” Aneka, another one of your sister's friends. She had such a bold personality but was always kind to you. “Oh, and you’re coming Saturday.”

"I-" you start, thinking for a moment. There's no justification for you staying at home, feeling miserable over a failed relationship that wasn't going anywhere. It's been a little more than a month, and you're supposed to be unwinding and having fun. Izara squeals and orders you to be prepared by an ungodly hour after you accept.

You and your sister traveled to Birnin Zana the following day. You knew the Golden City but had never been within the Citadel. While your sister is likely to be familiar with both the interior and outside of the high-rise glass tower, you have never stepped foot inside. With all the Dora Milaje present, it was a little intimidating, and you did your best to keep up with your sister in your heels. As Izara was a few steps ahead of you, someone you imagined was a staff member gave you a strange look. “Stop walking so fast.”

Izara ignores your request and keeps moving. "No one told you you had to wear those shoes." She lets you catch up by coming to a halt in front of an elevator.

“It’s not the shoes. It’s you.” You argue, coming up to her as you wait for the elevator.

As you rode the elevator, your thoughts turned to the new Queen. Several years have passed since your last interaction with her. Shuri had always impressed you with her intelligence, and she was extraordinarily strategic and visionary. She undoubtedly carried those attributes with her when she ascended to the throne.

“I didn't tell her you were coming. She’s going to be so surprised.” Izara scans her badge and enters the lab. You follow behind her. “Shuri, I have the file you asked for; sorry, I was reviewing it over to make sure we caught all the errors from the last trial and-”

Shuri had looked up when she heard your sister's voice, but you saw her eyes widen in your presence. “Y/N?” You watch as she blinks a few times, taking you in.

Shuri’s hair was short now, the sides shaved, and her hair coiled into a mohawk. She wore a light gray boiler suit. Truth be told, you did have a crush on Shuri when you were younger but grew out of it. It was the projection of a childish imagination. It faded with time and age as you ventured away from your sister and developed your own relationship with friends, no longer in the same space as the Wakandan Princess. But now, she looks good, very good.

“Hi,” you say, happy to see another familiar face. After being surrounded by strangers and new faces for the past few years, the familiarity of home was comforting. "I appreciate you arranging transportation for me to get here." You instantly tell her, knowing the reason for your visit. You did not intend to disturb her.

Shuri is quick to respond, “Of course, Izara said you wanted to visit. It was no trouble.” It was the honest truth. You know Shuri would do anything for your sister and, in relation, you.

Izara smiles, “I’m happy to have my little sister home though I wish it were under better circumstances. I’m trying to cheer her up.” Your sister pinches your cheeks and immediately moves away from reach when you swat her hand away. She might be a little obnoxious. You are not a baby.

“I am not a baby.” You vocalize, rolling your eyes.

"You'll always be my baby," she replies with a childish pout. "Now, wait right here. I’ll be back. I’m going to grab something from my office.” Izara says as she walks out of the lab, leaving you and Shuri alone.

You begin to appreciate the painting on the cylindrical pillar in the room, assuming you won't bother Shuri anymore, but Shuri speaks. “To what do I owe this visit? Not every day, I have Wakanda’s most famous supermodel walking into my lab,” she jokes.

It’s clear she’s being humorous, but your face heats up. “Oh, I wanted to see you and say thank you. I’m just following Izara around, and we’re going to pick out a birthday gift for Aneka.” You explain, trying to ignore the sensation in your cheeks.

Shuri is now leaning back against one of the tables, completely focused on you. "What did Izara mean when she said 'better circumstances'?" She inquires, her gaze fixed on yours.

She patiently waits. You pause, unsure how much you should reveal. All the arguments and nights of crying make you question if your sister ever mentioned Mya to Shuri. You make the decision to keep things simple. “I’m going through a very public breakup which means nothing to anyone here but everything to the media out there.”

“You know how hard it is to be walking down the street and be harassed with a thousand questions about your ex?” It was a rhetorical question. The media was ruthless and would stop at nothing until they could pull enough out of you to exploit for their own selfish advantage.

Shuri, being the intellect she is, probably realizes you'd rather not discuss this and moves on. "Wakanda, thankfully, does not have such an animalistic journalism system." Culturally, there was a high level of respect and awareness throughout the community that your business was private. Wakanda was far more developed and gave little thought to gossip and drama.

You were thankful for that. Breakups aren’t easy, no matter how shitty the relationship was. External stress wasn’t helping with your mood. You finally felt like you could breathe. “Exactly. Anyways I’m happy to be back.”

“Any plans?” She asks.

You shake your head. “Other than spending time with my family, no.” Further into your stay, you’d probably come up with some type of itinerary, but you were laying low for now. “Izara thinks I should be out enjoying being single.” She or your mom would probably try to set you up sooner or later.

Shuri nods in agreement. “She’s right, you know? There’s no reason to waste time thinking about someone who isn’t thinking about you when you could be having fun.”

The bluntness of Shuri’s words surprises you. “I suppose I’m young. I should be doing what I want with who I want.” You remark in a lighthearted tone.

Shuri glances at you, licking her lips, and winks. "Exactly," she replies. Your heart rate increases. Is she hitting on you?

Izara returns, and you both say goodbye to the Queen before heading to the shops. The brief exchange has left your thoughts in a frenzy. You spent the rest of the day trying to persuade yourself. Shuri was undoubtedly attractive, but there was no way a years-old crush would be rekindled within seconds of seeing her again. A crush you had when you were five at that, but the way her tone held so much suggestion.

Wakanda's nightlife was always lively. People come together, clubbing at the same venue, existing at the same time in the same place. It was an essential aspect of the culture and many people's choice for a social gathering or celebration.

The next night, you're on Elixir's second floor, famed for its massive and powerful alcoholic beverages. Aneka's party had the entire floor to themselves, and she leaped up and down as soon as she noticed you. “Ah! Baby Izara! We see your billboards when we’re on missions outside Wakanda.” She tells you, and you feel shy under all the attention. It was nice to know that the people at home were supportive in seeing you thrive. "Thank you!" You exclaim as you hug her. You said hello to a couple more people before ordering a cocktail and settling in. You're seated alone in one of the many round booths. Your sister and a few others had gone downstairs to join the sea of crowded and sweaty bodies.

You had the idea to go down there. Dance on someone, make an emotionless connection, and return to their apartment, but you know in the back of your mind that it wasn't for you. Impersonal connections lack the comfort of knowing each other's bodies and personalities.

There's quite a commotion at the club's entrance, and you peek down to see all the excitement. Shuri navigated the crowd with a small group of individuals following behind her. The woman was dressed in all black, with form-fitting pants and a tailored blazer—dark shades, shielding her eyes from those around her.

You felt something stirring deep within you the entire time your attention was drawn to her.

The sheer strength and command of her presence divides the crowd. She doesn’t have to ask. Everything about her screams dominance, and you can't deny that you're drawn to it, trying not to let your imagination wander into the illicit territory. This was not a crush. This was pure want. Shuri makes her way up the large metal steps, where she is embraced by the bubbly birthday girl who has had too many drinks. “Shuri! You made it,” Aneka says excitedly. The sweet look Ayo gives her excited girlfriend warms your heart. They're adorable.

Before hugging Aneka, the Queen leans in and says something only she can hear. She fades from view as she moves deeper into the scene, most likely conversing with others. When you see Shuri again, she's walking over to you, drink in hand, her steps purposeful.

She slides into the booth across from you without asking. “I’m surprised you’re not down there dancing. What happened to being young and single?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Please," you retort. "So I can have sweaty men press their balls on my back. Thank you, but no." Your lips were pursed.

“So you came out to sit around?” Shuri comments. “In such a pretty outfit,” she notes. Her eyes are covered behind those black shades, but her statement indicates she's checking you out, taking in the way your boobs sit nicely and the tiny skirt displaying the silky flesh of your upper thigh. There's a trace of something in her voice as if she's coaxing you to reveal more, understanding there's more to your decision to isolate yourself. Again, a tempting tone.

You’re not in the mood for mind games. “You ask a lot of questions. Besides, are you not doing the same thing?” Your voice is laced with skepticism as you eye her.

Shuri lets out a disagreeing sound. “I’m here to celebrate Aneka and enjoy my night.”

If she can tease you, why can’t you do the same? You twirl your tongue around the straw in your drink, and Shuri can’t look away. “Since you’re here with me, am I a part of the enjoyment?”

When your eyes meet, there’s a glint of danger in them. “I think you should behave.” Her tone was low and warning.

If she believed that would get you to listen, she was mistaken. That resulted in the opposite effect, as you felt arousal between your legs. "And what if I don't?" You push, your eyes innocent, as if you had no idea how provocative your tone was. She looked damn good in that suit.

You were putting aside the complication caused by the fact that Shuri was your sister's best friend and the Queen of your country. Something enticed you to make a move on her. You notice the cherry in her glass and immediately say, "I can tie that with my tongue." It was a cool trick you picked up from a model in Cannes. People were always shocked at how simple you made it look before trying it themselves.

Shuri glances at you as she takes the cherry into her mouth instead of answering vocally. The stem is just beyond her lips, and her brows are lifted, waiting for you. You bend across the table, making sure not to brush your lips together as you move the stem from her mouth to yours. She keeps a close eye on you while you concentrate on your task, stretching your tongue upward and trapping it against the roof of your mouth.

You stick your tongue out after pushing the end through the loop, revealing the knotted cherry stem to Shuri. She removes her glasses, folds them, and sets them next to her cherry-free drink. Eyes filled with fire. “Stop looking at me like that.” You could sense a level of hesitation from the woman. Behave wasn't a no; it simply indicated she was attempting to get you to back off since her resolve was slipping.

You roll your eyes as you remove the stem from your tongue and place it on a napkin. “You know you’re practically undressing me with your eyes.” You could see a glimmer of hunger in her features, and you knew you had her right there.

“Mmm, I’m not the one showing off tongue tricks,” Shuri smirks, sipping her drink.

Before you can say anything, a breathless voice breaks the tension between you. “Shuri!” your sister and two of the girls had returned from the dancefloor. “Scoot over. I’m taking a five-minute break.” Izara says. You can see the sweat on her forehead. You start to shift over to make room for everyone, and you’re forced to be pressed against Shuri, depleting the distance.

Upon their arrival, Shuri redirects her attention to her best friend, “Hey, Zar. I was just asking your sister why she wasn’t dancing.” Glancing at you with a smug look, she was enjoying this.

Izara nods, “I told her she needed to get down there and have fun. It’s been five weeks, and the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.”

As you drum your fingers across the glass table top, a sigh escapes your lips. I’m trying, you think. "I'm not keen on hooking up with strangers," you answer instead. You were discrete with your words. Sneaking a quick look over at Shuri when you say it, you find her already staring back at you. Her expression has now become unreadable.

Izara sighs. Her sole motive for inviting you was for you to have fun; she probably believed you weren't having a great time, but your attention was attracted to something you didn't need to search for. You wouldn’t tell her that, though. "Oh, Bast, you need more liquor." She approaches a waiter and orders a round of shots.

As soon as the waiter places the shot glasses on the table, all eyes turn to you. You reached forward, grabbed one shot, pinched the lime, and tossed back the tequila, promptly sucking the lime between your teeth and dropping it into the empty shot glass. "That's my girl," Izara says, clapping.

The five-minute breaks last a lot longer than five minutes. Your poor sister was utterly unaware that she was cock-blocking. She and Shuri were having a casual conversation about who knows. You weren't paying attention. Maybe she senses you getting restless beside her, but you feel a hand rest on your leg. Shuri continues to converse with Izara while her fingertips brush your left thigh. You let out a sharp, deep breath before composing yourself. The soft touch riles you up. Shuri taunts you by not moving her hand any higher. She rests it there, stroking your skin, knowing it’s driving you crazy.

Shuri is winning this game you're playing together, but you have a plan.

When your sister returns to the main level, she attempts to get you to accompany her, and you make up an excuse, promising to do so after you use the restroom. When you and Shuri are alone again, you slap her hand and glare at her. “You should move your hand if you’re going to start something you can’t finish. I’m not in the mood to be teased.”

As you get up to leave, you grab a second shot, downing it before smiling. It's a mind-numbing high that blocks all of your feelings except lust. "I'll be really upset if this night doesn't end with me in your bed." You whisper, walking away, not bothering to wait for Shuri’s reaction. There was no point in playing games when you wanted her, and she clearly wanted you. That’s why you knew she would follow you.

The bathroom is located down a dim corridor with purple fluorescent lights. You're walking down the hall when you hear quick footsteps behind you. A hand catches your waist, pressing you against a solid body. Away from prying eyes, Shuri holds you against her, moving your hair to expose the side of your neck, “Do you want to dance with me after?” She speaks with hushed tones.

Mission completed.

You shook your head and turned to face her. "I wasn't here to dance." Dancing was a waste of time because neither of you wanted to do it. Every second more you spent in this club was a moment wasted when she could be inside of you.

Shuri paused for a moment, her eyes clouded with longing. "You realize what you're asking of me." Your mind wanders to Izara. All the red flags were flying in your head. This was your sister's closest friend and her most recent boss. Shuri felt off-limits for some reason. But you swiftly block out all of that.

“Don’t complicate things. I wouldn’t be here asking you to bring me home and fuck me in the middle of a club if I didn’t,” you said. You've teased and flirted with the Queen all night, and now nothing stops you from ending the night in bed with her. “No kissing, no intimacy, it’s just sex.” You assure her.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You gasp as Shuri thrusts back inside, making your body tremble in response. It’s one of the many compliments you’ve given her through the night as she takes you further into euphoric bliss.

Maybe it's because you haven't had sex in what seems like an eternity, but the slide in feels like heaven. The first thrust has you seeing stars, and every move since then has you letting out an endless stream of moans. You were on your knees, Shuri kneeling behind you, going at unrelenting speed.

You're both high on adrenaline and lust, making your body hum and your head spin—sweaty bodies work together as your heartbeats syncopate in a rhythmic acceleration. You can't recall the last time you felt so attuned to another person, so alive.

Her hands are all over you, one of her arms reaching from behind to support your upper body, cupping your chest while her fingers tease your nipple. You figure the mind of a genius is used to focusing on multiple things at once because despite her fast thrust, the fingers on Shuri’s other hand stroke along your clit, gently knowing what you need, where to touch you, and how to touch you.

“Harder, harder- fuck, don’t stop.” You reach around to find Shuri’s hips and hold them, following her movements in an attempt to feel her closer. “Such a bossy girl.” Shuri pants but drives into you with more force.

She eventually removes the arm that has been holding you up and pushing you forward. At this angle, she's hitting the spot inside you that has you unable to speak, trapped in an endless repeat of pleasure as the sensation causes your skin to prickle.

Collapsing onto the bed, you cushion your head on the pillow, and your back arches beautifully. “Fuck Shuri. C-close,” you stutter, your voice weakly coming out between your pants. The way Shuri was easily manipulating your body to take her deeper made you want to scream. "I can't wait to see you come looking for me." Shuri breathes and snaps her hips.

"You're going to look gorgeous." She goes on, talking you through it. "Should take a picture and put it on the front cover of every magazine. Everyone can see how pretty you are when you’re getting fucked so good.”

Shuri's comments fill your head with filthy thoughts, even though you've never considered yourself an exhibitionist. Imagine one of the world's most famous models being railed by the Queen of Wakanda on a magazine cover. You two are certainly an obscene sight. “Should I let everybody see what a good girl you are, or is this only for me?”

"Only you," you answer thoughtlessly. Your mind was only centered on pleasure now. As you inhale sharply, the heat inside of you grows, and your body is frozen in ecstasy. Your eyes slip back as your stomach muscles contract in anticipation of eventually feeling that relief. Your eyes widen, your brows rise, your breath stutters, and your eyes close tightly. So tight, and you’re coming. It's quiet for a few moments, and then you're screaming Shuri's name, your voice breaking, your nails sinking into the covers.

As you move your hips back, little gasps escape your lips. “You’re perfect. It feels so good. Want to keep fucking you.” Her words and tone are desperate as she pants, grinding into you, using the friction and pressure to reach her orgasm. You could get off just from the sound of her moans alone.

When Shuri pulls out, you fall into the satin sheets and turn over, sticky and satisfied, staring at the ceiling. You take a few moments to collect your breath and come down from your climax. You sense the bed shifting as Shuri fades from view.

On shaky legs, you stand up to scan the room for your belongings. There was no need for closeness or caressing. Both of you agreed to just sex, and you needed to get home as soon as possible. Your top is lying right in front of the door. That was the first thing to go.

“I’ll have a member of the Dora escort you home.” Shuri comes back into the room from the bathroom, a tee shirt and boxers on now while you’re still struggling to locate your underwear.

“Are you crazy?” You pull the straps of your top on your shoulders and try to situate your breast inside. “I’m not even supposed to be here.” You whisper-shout. The reality was settling in now that the fire inside you had been put out. Izara would most likely interrogate you in the morning, thinking you went home with someone and you had time to think of a lie once you were home.

“Imagine going to my mother's house with the Dora Milaje. - have you seen my panties?” Her head wanders sideways, and you follow her gaze to discover your underwear on top of the lampshade on the bedside table.

They undoubtedly landed there in her haste to strip you naked. Shuri takes them and hands them to you. "You're so messy," you mutter as you take them from her, leaning down to slip them on.

"You weren't complaining," Shuri chuckles. There goes that smug tone.

Before leaving, you get dressed, put on your heels, and turn to Shuri. “This never happened. I was never here." You're both consenting adults, but having your sister in the mix complicates the situation. It was acceptable for the one time you both received much-needed relief, but it couldn't happen again for the sake of preserving normalcy. The elder remains silent. "Did you hear what I said?"

A confused sound leaves her lips. “I can’t hear anything. I'm here by myself.”

You roll your eyes and walk out the door. That’s the end of that.

When you’re showered in bed and reflecting on tonight‘s activities, it's later when your kimoyo beads ring.

It’s Shuri.

“Yes?” you answer, ensuring not to disturb your mom. It was late.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” you knew her concern was genuine because Izara would never forgive her if something happened to you.

“Yes, I did. Thank you.”

She hesitates for a second, staring at you in contemplation before asking, “So, are we going to talk about it?” There’s humor in her voice.

Not this. “Didn’t we agree that I wasn’t with you?”

"I'm not addressing that," Shuri responds immediately. "There is something far more intriguing on your lower back," she taunts, winking.

Your lips form an unconscious gasp. “Shut up!” The first and only tattoo you’ve ever received was in Paris after your first fashion week. You and a few other models get tattoos while feeling celebratory and possibly under the influence of a bit too much champagne. A tribal butterfly is permanently affixed to the center of your lower back. "No, we can't discuss it since you've never seen it." You remind her of this, your face heated. You can't believe you overlooked that.

"I completely understand." She responds, but the way she looks at you and bites her lip suggests otherwise.

Everything about her was enticing. You decide to end the call, “Goodnight, Shuri.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You went to bed vowing never to do it again, a commitment tainted by dishonesty because it happened again.

#cai fics #re upload #shuri x black!reader #shuri x reader #shuri fanfiction #shuri black panther #black panther shuri #shuri fic #shuri smut #princess shuri #shuri udaku #shuri imagine #shuri x y/n #shuri x you #mcu shuri

219 notes · View notes

soberscientistlife · 4 months

Text

Happy 75th Birthday to Samuel Leroy Jackson.

Born December 21, 1948, He is an actor and producer. One of the most widely recognized actors of his generation, the films in which he has appeared have collectively grossed over $27 billion worldwide, making him the highest-grossing actor of all time (excluding cameo appearances). He rose to fame with films such as Coming to America (1988).

Jackson is a highly prolific actor, having appeared in over 150 films. His other roles include Die Hard with a Vengeance (1995), A Time to Kill (1996), Hard Eight (1996), Eve's Bayou (1997), The Red Violin (1998), The Negotiator (1998), Unbreakable (2000), Shaft (2000) and its 2019 sequel/reboot, Coach Carter (2005), Snakes on a Plane (2006), The Other Guys (2010), Kong: Skull Island (2017), and Glass (2019). Jackson also won widespread recognition as the Jedi Mace Windu in the Star Wars prequel trilogy (1999–2005), and later voiced the role in the animated film Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008). With his permission, his likeness was used for the Ultimate version of the Marvel Comics character Nick Fury; he subsequently played Fury in 11 Marvel Cinematic Universe films, beginning with a cameo appearance in Iron Man (2008), as well as guest-starring in the television series Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. He will reprise this role in the upcoming Disney+ series Secret Invasion, which is set to premiere in 2022.

Jackson has provided his voice for several animated films, documentaries, television series, and video games, including Lucius Best/Frozone in the Pixar films The Incredibles (2004) and Incredibles 2 (2018), Whiplash in Turbo (2013), the title character of the anime television series Afro Samurai (2007), and Frank Tenpenny in the video game Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas (2004). In 2016, Jackson served as the narrator of the acclaimed documentary I Am Not Your Negro based on James Baldwin's writings.

88 notes · View notes

ojcobsessed · 3 months

Text

Few actors have endured as fraught a journey as Oliver Jackson-Cohen. Few actors are more in demand than the star of The Haunting of Hill House and Jackdaw

by Maeve Ryan

OLIVER JACKSON-COHEN HAS been doing this a while. He decided to act at the age of six. Joined a theatre troupe and began to climb. He continued until university but didn’t get into any drama schools. Throughout our conversation, he tells me there were no signs pointing him in this direction, no surefire chance at success. But he’s found it, and then some.

He rose to prominence with his highly acclaimed portrayal of Luke Crain in Mike Flanagan’s The Haunting of Hill House.

A character that battled a heroin addiction to cope with past traumas, though addiction was the least interesting thing about him. The show featured stars of the past, and launched new ones into the present, Oliver Jackson-Cohen being one of them. The role of Luke changed the course of his life – for more reasons than one.

It was the first time in his life he no longer had to hide, he tells me. “I could be as fragile as I felt.” He took his newfound Netflix fame and began to carve a path that finally aligned with who he was, not who the world wanted him to be.

Now, he takes centre stage in Jamie Dobb’s new film Jackdaw. When he read the script, he thought he was the last man for the job. When Dobb explained the hyper masculine lead needed someone to bring softness behind it, he signed on.

Jackson-Cohen’s career, and presence, proves that the strength of a man lies in his ability to go beyond society’s standards. He breaks the stereotypes like bread over a long conversation in Soho. We discuss his entrance into the industry, facing traumas, and finding a safe place to land.

sm: What was the first movie you ever saw that made you want to act?

o-jc: Home Alone. I remember seeing that film and saying, oh whoa, so a kid can do this? I remember telling my dad, ‘I think I want to do that.’ I was six or seven.

But it gets dark. So, my mum and dad’s house had a bay window that was on the street. And when I came home from school for a week, I just sat in the window thinking, any minute now, someone from Home Alone is going to walk past, and go, there’s a kid! Let’s get him! I was willingly wanting to get kidnapped. Which is so fucked. My dad came home and was like, ‘What are you doing?’ And then he was like, ‘Yeah, that’s not how that works.’

We found a theatre program – I started going there when I was eight. I was never the golden kid. In the drama clubs, I was always like the snake in the background. Or just the scenery. We used to put on terrible plays. I was such an insular kid. I found a safe place to feel where it’s real, but it’s not. So you can experience it all. I did that for three years, and then I was kicked out.

sm: What! Why?

oj-c: I had an attitude or something like that. I got suspended so many times. I genuinely was not looking for trouble. I was always the one to get caught. Like, I was the kid who someone handed the knife to, and I’d be standing above the dead body, and then the next thing I knew it was 20 years in prison. It was always stuff like that. But it was time to move on anyway.

I found this drama school at Riverside Studios. It was a small group, maybe eight or nine people. It was so interesting, because I’m going to do a gross name drop, but in the group was Carey Mulligan and Imogen Poots. It was incredible.

sm: Those were the kids that were just there? Did you have to audition?

oj-c: No, but I did a trial. It was a lot of devised stuff, like improv. A guy named Andrew Bradford ran it. He really supported kids. It was all day Saturday. We were all teenagers. It felt like another life. It grew and grew and by the time I left I was 17 or 18. It wasn’t one of those places that you were beaten down. No fake bullshit. It was a safe place to try stuff. We’d put on plays and we all got agents from that as kids.

sm: Is that the moment you look back on and think of as the beginning?

oj-c: I think so. But it was such a long period of time. Career wise, it was quite stagnant. I did one job when I was 15 that was some late night soap. Then I didn’t do anything until I was 18. I wasn’t like this is real until later. It started to snowball when I finished school. I went to get a French lit degree, hated it, dropped out, and applied to drama school. I didn’t get in anywhere.

In the meantime, there was a job at the BBC for a silly period drama. I did that, took the money, and went to do a foundation in New York at Strasberg.

sm: Tell me about the audition for drama school. You didn’t get in anywhere?

oj-c: Yes. I’m telling you there were no signs that pointed to me saying, yeah, you’re quite good at this. It felt like everyone was saying, ‘don’t do it.’ Which is a really interesting place to start from. If no one around me believes in me, how do I? And I just keep going? It was a mix of delusion and stupidity.

sm: Did you think about doing something else?

oj-c: When I was still in high school, I worked as a runner on productions, mainly at the BBC. I was revolving through that so when I finished school, that was kinda my job.. I got to see the inner workings of how sets worked, rehearsal periods. I got to see the writers and the actors, how they would construct a joke, and adjust things.

When I was 17, I started doing the European Music Awards. I would go and work in the costume department, I didn’t fucking know anything about how to sew on a bun but it was amazing. I got such a solid understanding of how a production office works, how a schedule works.

Tragically, you see a lot of how an actor is a small cog in this machine. Everyone is working so diligently. This whole idea of superiority that can go on, it was important for me to witness early on. Because when you go onto set and someone says five minutes, it actually means five minutes. But it was also hard because I was watching people do what I love. I didn’t get into school, so I said fuck it, I’m gonna do a foundation for a year and reapply to drama school from New York.

sm: Why choose the Strasberg program?

oj-c: Someone told me about it. I thought I needed to go do something that gives me a playground, a space in the meantime. But when I got there, I was with this small agency, and they started sending me out on auditions. The first or second one I went on, they flew me to LA to do a screen test and I got it. This was six weeks into the program. I was like: what do I do?

sm: What did you decide?

oj-c: There were three or four movies I got, but then the financial crash happened and it all fell apart. So I went back to New York to continue with the program. But meanwhile, I had been signed to WME and my agents were like, let’s go down the studio route because that’s going to be fun. I got an audition for this Drew Barrymore movie, got that, and then I dropped out. Then got another job that moved me to LA. I was there for a year shooting and doing the prep for that.

The whole idea was that I’d do that and reapply to drama school. Then I kept on booking. It’s only in the past couple years I was like, thank fuck I didn’t stop. There were moments that I thought I needed to stop and do three years of training.

sm: Did you feel like you were missing something that other people had?

oj-c: I felt like I was back-footed. Like I had no idea what I was doing, then I realised no one does. There is no arrival point where you’re like, ‘I know how to act!’ A lot of it was becoming comfortable with learning and making mistakes. Some will hurt and some don’t matter.

sm: So you start booking jobs, and then it just keeps going? No break?

oj-c: There’s obviously periods where you’re out of work. Or you really want a job and you do 50 auditions for it and you don’t get it. A lot of that went on. But I was 22. I ended up staying in New York until I was 28. I felt like a deer in the headlights. I was just so grateful that I was working and that people wanted to hire me that I never stopped to ask if it was actually fulfilling.

I listened to a lot of people early on. I needed guidance. I needed someone to say, do this job, this will lead to this, or it’s important you work with this person. Then I woke up one day and was like, is there anything here that I’m actually proud of?

That comes with experience and maybe a little bit of delusional confidence where you go, I think I want to try and do something here that is more aligned with me. It was a weird time to be in LA. I’m six foot three. I look a certain way. People wanted the product. I thought that was how I’d get there. I’ll pretend to be confident, I’ll be a version of what these people want. Keep my mouth shut and pretend. I reached a point where I was like, I cannot keep going this way.

sm: Did you feel that you’d abandoned yourself? Or was it a slow realisation?

oj-c: It became harder and harder to pretend to be this chill guy. I’m not chill. But when you’re handed something, you go, this is fun. Then the more you read and become accustomed to the environment you’re in, you start to feel entitled to have an opinion. To feel entitled enough to say: I actually don’t like this, I actually find this quite soul destroying. Having to make myself small, or block myself off and not be as vulnerable as I feel. To not show that.

It was an interesting time – in the late 2000s, men were men and what I was being asked to do was be an idea of what a tall, white, masculine man was that sort of never really sat. I actually feel really fragile. So I took a break for six months. I was like, I’m just going to say no now and try to re-shape the direction of what I want to do. Then The Haunting of Hill House came along.

sm: How did that audition happen?

oj-c: I’d done a film with the producer before. They sent me a conversation that happens in the show between Luke and his twin sister, it was him asking her to get him drugs. They asked me to read that and literally the following day, they called me and were like yep, you.

means something to people. It was an amazing thing to be a part of.

sm: Did you immediately recognise that Luke was the kind of character you were looking to play on the page?

oj-c: Sort of. If I’m honest, I did quite a lot with the role. Mike was very open to collaborating. I put a lot of stuff in there that wasn’t necessarily there originally.

All of the siblings were there but they were sort of blank canvases for anyone to put whatever they needed to put in it. We all came in and made bigger choices to create this family dynamic. They brought on this incredible writer, Scott Kosar, who wrote The Machinist, to tackle the Luke character because he was in recovery at the time.

sm: The writer was in recovery?

oj-c: Yes. He tackled all those monologues about staying clean and everything. That was him. You know, you’re talking about a family that lived in a haunted house, that’s sort of a silly premise but all the substitutions that everyone did, it was all about trauma. Living and being followed by things unless you face them.

sm: What did you bring to the Luke character that wouldn’t have been there if somebody else played it?

oj-c: Someone else would have brought something amazing to it. But Mike Flanagan had so many tapes come through of people playing the addiction, and you can’t play the addiction. When I first looked at Luke I was like, okay, he’s a heroin addict, but then I was like, actually, to put a label on that, to label him, does such a disservice.

So it became about what he was running from, and what was terrorising him. For me, it became about childhood sexual abuse. How do you escape this thing you don’t want to feel? And if you can’t keep it at bay, it will take over. It became about that struggle, not ‘I need my fix.’ It became about this terrorising thing that’s always present, which translates into the show. We all have things that follow us. It became about trying to humanise it and make it real by using that as a way in.

sm: You’ve been open on social media about the sexual abuse you faced as a child. How did you navigate acting something so close to home?

oj-c: I’m of the school of thought: use whatever is real for you. That’s why I do the job. A lot of us use our own personal experience, but we bring it to a safe space where it’s okay for us to experience it. In a way it calls for that, and it felt important to do for the show.

I come back to this idea of needing to stop and reassess what I wanted to do, where I wanted to go, and what I wanted to say in the work that I do. I felt like I couldn’t keep hiding. We’re all complicated, we’ve all had complicated upbringings. That’s just part of life. It’s unfortunate, but it’s sort of always going to be a mess. I needed to put everything that I felt into something. I do that all the time.

We use the parts of yourselves. Including the darker parts, and some of the stuff we don’t want to look at. I’ve never been one of those people to go half on something. You either do it or you don’t. There’s no middle ground. I’m not going to half step in, or pretend.

sm: Did you have any practices while filming to help you not carry the hurt from that world into your own?

oj-c: What was interesting was that all of that sadness was in there anyway. I wasn’t generating any of it, I was just opening it up. I didn’t whip myself up into a frenzy. It just felt like I didn’t have to hide, or pretend it wasn’t there.

sm: Would you say acting has been healing for you?

oj-c: I don’t think the word healing is correct. But it’s been incredibly helpful in helping me understand myself better. It’s probably not the healthiest but I’ve said this before, I feel like I need the job to lay out all my neuroses and vulnerability. I keep myself so closed off in real life. It’s an outlet that feels necessary. That’s why I go off to work every couple days.

sm: You are cast in a lot of thrillers and horrors. Why do you think you mesh well with that genre as an actor?

oj-c: You know, after I did Haunting of Hill House, it was sort of this big thing where the amount of horror scripts that came through was crazy. The amount of, ‘do you want to play a drug addict?’ It’s incredible how desperate people are to put us into boxes.

After Hill House, I did The Invisible Man. That was a horror but the messaging - we’re talking about gaslighting, we’re talking about toxic relationships to an extreme. It was so much more than a scary film. It felt like it had something to say. That’s the thing about horror. When it’s done well, it’s incredibly impactful.

sm: After Hill House, did you feel you had agency when choosing your roles?

oj-c: To a certain extent. But no matter where you’re at: the job you want, they don’t want you. You can be Julianne Moore, but they’d rather have someone else. It’s constant. But it did change quite a lot. In terms of becoming Netflix famous, which is the strangest, most intense thing ever because you’re the most famous person on the planet and then something else comes out. I felt like I was in a fortunate space where I could choose more, but there were films that I really wanted that I didn’t get.

sm: I heard that when you first read the Jackdaw script, you didn’t think you were right for the role?

oj-c: Yes. I called the director Jamie Childs and told him he was nuts. Because again, here’s this hyper masculine man that felt quite robotic on the page. I met Jamie on the set of Wilderness. He was telling me, ‘I’ve written this movie. I’d love to get your feedback on it.’ So I read it. It was still an early draft. Then he said, ‘Do you want to do it?’ I genuinely thought I wasn’t the right fit. I thought it was just out of convenience that he wanted me.

He said to me, ‘It needs someone to come in and make it human. To give it vulnerability.’ He said the film is about how this man readjusts his life following the death of his mum, and I was like, sold! You need some tears? I’ll bring you tears! I’m never leaving my sad boy era. It happened so quickly. We wrapped Wilderness, and then started filming three and a half weeks later. We were up north in January.

sm: You go swimming in the North Sea quite a bit in the film…

oj-c: Oh yeah. It got to like minus nine. It ended with me getting hypothermia. I think I’m a bit too delicate, that’s why. I had this amazing stunt guy called Jamie Dobbs who’s this gold motor-cross champion, and we had to shoot all this stuff of us in the night. They’d get me on a rig, and then they’d get Jamie and it got to minus 12. He got frostbite on his face. It was unbelievable. It was all night shoots. I am so surprised we all made it out alive.

sm: Had you ever cold plunged before?

oj-c: Not at all. I’m one of those people in August that’s like, I don’t know if I want to go in the sea, it looks a bit cold. We did three days on the water. Some of it was in a kayak. The underwater stuff, that’s where it got brutal. We were all eating every 25 minutes because we were so cold. There was a boat just for food. I couldn’t name one thing we ate. It was just fuel. We were going to work at 5pm, and then wrapping in the morning.

sm: Do you often try new things on film sets that you’d never do otherwise?

oj-c: Yes, all the time! That’s part of the allure of it. You get to learn all these weird things that you’d never do. You get to experience these amazing things. I’ve been doing this for so long, because I’m 150 years old, and someone will bring something up and I’ll be like, oh I’ve done that! But then I’m like wait no I didn’t, the character did.

sm: Was there anything else you learned on the set of Jackdaw? Motorcross?

oj-c: Yes! I fucking loved it. If I’m honest, a lot of it is me jumping on and starting up and then getting out of frame. Insurance-wise, I couldn’t do any of the jumps or anything. But it is so great. There is nothing quite like it.

sm: Do you ever think you’ll get into the writing side of film?

oj-c: I have. I just don’t know what I have to say yet. Everyone reaches a point where they think, I don’t want to forever be a product. It would be nice to be part of the creative. I have a lot of opinions.

You go into a job with the best intentions. This is what they’ve told us, this is what’s been sold and then you’ll see the final product and be like: that’s not at all what I thought it would be. The more you do it, the more you feel like you know what you actually like and what you want to be part of. I’ll get to it at some point.

Jackdaw is in cinemas now.

#oliver jackson-cohen #oliver jackson cohen #jackdaw #jackdaw film #jamie childs #2024 #interview #cw: csa #mike flanagan #haunting of hill house #luke crain #jack dawson #i have that home alone anecdote memorised by now 😭#he writes!

68 notes · View notes

scienceninjaturtle · 2 months

Text

ULTIMATES #1

Written by DENIZ CAMP

Art by JUAN FRIGERI

Cover by DIKE RUAN

Following blockbuster series launches with Ultimate Spider-Man, Ultimate Black Panther, and Ultimate X-Men, the highly anticipated next title in Marvel’s new Ultimate Universe arrives this June—the ULTIMATES!

Directly spinning out of the very foundation for the new Ultimate line—Jonathan Hickman and Stefano Caselli’s Ultimate Universe #1—ULTIMATES will be written by Deniz Camp, known for his thought-provoking and socially relevant work on titles like Children of the Vault and 20th Century Men, and drawn by rising superstar Juan Frigeri, known for his acclaimed work on Invincible Iron Man. The series will introduce the all-new super hero team that will usher in the next chapter of bold storytelling within the new Ultimate Universe.

Months ago, Tony Stark sent Peter Parker a radioactive spider to set him back on the course to become Spider-Man. Since then, Iron Lad (Stark), Captain America, Doom, Thor and Sif have begun to do the same for other lost heroes, building a network of super-powered heroes hungry for change… Now they must band together to destroy the Maker’s Council and restore freedom and free will to a world ruled from the shadows!

#marvel comics #ultimate marvel #the ultimates #captain america #iron lad #ant man #wasp #thor odinson #lady sif #reed richards #doctor doom

31 notes · View notes

transgenderer · 3 months

Text

steven universe is a lot less like...finely crafted than a lot of highly acclaimed childrens fiction but in terms of like...spec fic artistic quality i think its about as good as it gets. like its really unique in the way it has these spec fic concepts and then digs into the weird emotional consequences of that. like the whole sardonyx arc, saying okay, imagine two people can fuse into one giant person, what does that mean for them emotionally. thats what spec fic's all about baby

35 notes · View notes

scotianostra · 3 months

Text

Happy Birthday Scottish actor Ewen Bremner, born January 23rd 1972 in Edinburgh.

Bremner has worked with many of the most respected directors in world cinema, including Danny Boyle, Mike Leigh, Ridley Scott, Joon-Ho Bong, Werner Herzog and Woody Allen. Hen has established himself by creating unique characters in critically acclaimed films, as well as going toe to toe with many of Hollywood's biggest stars.

Ewen had worked widely in theatre, television, and film for years before being cast in his breakout role in Trainspotting, by Oscar-winning director Danny Boyle. He was the first to be cast in the role of Mark Renton in Edinburgh's Traverse Theatre production but lost out to Ewan McGregor in the film version, instead he was handed the role of Spud Murphy and earned screen immortality with his character's infamous "speed fuelled" job interview scene.

Prior to Trainspotting, Bremner gave a striking performance in Mike Leigh's Naked, fellow Scot Susan Vidler played his girlfriend Maggie in this excellent film.

In 1999, Bremner received critical acclaim for his portrayal of a schizophrenic man living with his dysfunctional family in Harmony Korine's Julien, Donkey-Boy. Filmed strictly in accordance with the ultra-realist tenants of Lars Von Trier's Dogma 95 movement and starring opposite Werner Herzog, Bremner played Julien its eponymous hero, requiring him to assume an American accent. He then worked with director Michael Bay in his high-profile 2001 war film Pearl Harbor, proving his versatility once again by portraying the role of a wholeheartedly patriotic American soldier fighting in WWII. The following year, he stepped back into fatigues for a supporting role in Ridley Scott's Black Hawk Down, while rounding out the next several years with roles in high-profile Hollywood releases such as The Rundown, Disney's Around the World in 80 Days), AVP: Alien vs. Predator, Woody Allen's Match Point, the comedy Death at a Funeral directed by Frank Oz, and Fool's Gold starring Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson.

This past few of years proved to be a busy when Bremner was invited to join the DC Universe in the Zack Snyder-produced feature Wonder Woman, directed by Patty Jenkins, co-starring Gal Gadot and Chris Pine. Ewen also reprised his unforgettable role as Spud in the highly-anticipated sequel to Danny Boyle's cult classic, T2: Trainspotting

Bremner appeared in the TNT Drama Series Will with Shekhar Kapur. The series told the story of the lost years of young William Shakespeare after his arrival to London in 1589 but only lasted one season. Other notable film credits include Woody Allen's You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger, Perfect Sense starring again alongside Ewan McGregor, Great Expectations, Jack the Giant Slayer, and Snowpiercer starring alongside Chris Evans and Tilda Swinton. Further credits include Exodus: Gods and Kings, Wide Open Spaces, Mojo, Mediator, Faintheart, Hallam Foe, Sixteen Years of Alcohol, and Snatch.

In television, Ewen has worked on many acclaimed productions including David Hare's Worriker trilogy starring Bill Nighy for BBC, Jimmy McGovern's Moving On and also his Australian mini-series Banished, Strike Back for Sky TV, Dominic Savage's Dive, the Dylan Thomas biopic, A Poet In New York and the adaptation of Day of the Triffids for the BBC. Other noteworthy series appearances include portraying legendary surrealist Salvador Dali in the U.K. television drama Surrealissimo: The Trial of Salvador Dali, and a guest spot on the successful NBC series, My Name is Earl, not to forget an early appearance in Taggart way back in 1990.

Latley Ewen has been one of a number of Scottish actors who are backing a campaign to reopen the Film House cinema in Edinburgh, he has a couple of projects on the go just now, Bluefish, which takes us around the globe to tell stories of people trying to break out of their bubbles of isolation, which I take to mean the Covid pandemic, he also has a film on the go called Roo, but there is nothing to report on that just now.

#scotland #scottish #history #happy birthday #actor #television #cinema #trainspotting

20 notes · View notes

otakusparkle · 1 year

Text

EMERGENCY! ⚠️ \HELP US! DOCTOR ADA!/

Game malfunction, everyday anxiety...💬

I will consult with you about your troubles.

Customer satisfaction No.1! The word of mouth is also highly acclaimed!

Currently accepting free consultations📝

Go to the Mesmer Psychotherapeutic Clinic

Please feel free to call me!

Ada Mesmer

She attended a prestigious medical school, studied hypnotherapy, and became an assistant professor of psychology. She then left the university and opened her own private psychiatric clinic. At White Sands Psychiatric Hospital. She is 26 years young. Her specialty: Hypnotherapy

Andrew : I don't want to meet people

Andrew's board : Please don't wake up me!

Keigan : Stress...

Naib : Anorexia

Orpheus/Nightmare : Sleepless

Joker : Weak Muscles...

Emil : Review from patient : Doctor Ada... Kind... I like...

If you are having trouble with these symptoms...

It might be May disease!

Would you like to consult a psychiatrist?

Also available online

Free consultation campaign is ongoing!

Click here to call us!

050-5555-555

#identity v #idv #idv official illustration #idv psychologist #ada mesmer #idv patient #idv emil #idv mercenary #naib subedar #idv orpheus #idv novelist #idv nightmare #idv clerk #keigan nicholas keogh #idv weeping clown #idv joker #idv grave keeper #andrew kreiss

80 notes · View notes

comparativelysuperlative · 2 years

Text

In case you haven’t seen the new best thing ever,

the Onion filed a brief with the US Supreme Court.

If you don’t read the whole thing, read the “Interest of the Amicus Curiae” section (intended to explain who they are and who cares, since they aren’t actually part of the case). Since this case is about a guy who got JAILED FOR WRITING PARODY NEWS ARTICLES, the Onion getting involved makes sense.

The Onion is the world’s leading news publication, offering highly acclaimed, universally revered coverage of breaking national, international, and local news events. Rising from its humble beginnings as a print newspaper in 1756, The Onion now enjoys a daily readership of 4.3 trillion and has grown into the single most powerful and influential organization in human history.

In addition to maintaining a towering standard of excellence to which the rest of the industry aspires, The Onion supports more than 350,000 full- and parttime journalism jobs in its numerous news bureaus and manual labor camps stationed around the world, and members of its editorial board have served with distinction in an advisory capacity for such nations as China, Syria, Somalia, and the former Soviet Union. On top of its journalistic pursuits, The Onion also owns and operates the majority of the world’s transoceanic shipping lanes, stands on the nation’s leading edge on matters of deforestation and strip mining, and proudly conducts tests on millions of animals daily.

The Onion’s keen, fact-driven reportage has been cited favorably by one or more local courts, as well as Iran and the Chinese state-run media. Along the way, The Onion’s journalists have garnered a sterling reputation for accurately forecasting future events. One such coup was The Onion’s scoop revealing that a former president kept nuclear secrets strewn around his beach home’s basement three years before it even happened.

The Onion files this brief to protect its continued ability to create fiction that may ultimately merge into reality. As the globe’s premier parodists, The Onion’s writers also have a self-serving interest in preventing political authorities from imprisoning humorists. This brief is submitted in the interest of at least mitigating their future punishment.

They keep that style for the entire argument. As legal writing, this brief is really good, as satire it’s even better, and as publicity it’s...that one was the point, probably. There’s layers.

#there is a time and a place and that time and place is nowhere near as often as I might wish it was #but this. this is the time #the Lore

168 notes · View notes

romanceyourdemons · 5 days

Text

i really enjoyed melvin van peebles’s sweet sweetback’s baadasssss song (1971). considered a key early blaxploitation film, this film’s beautiful, eclectic cinematography and editing and its intense narrative mark it as an independent film, as opposed to the fairly studio-driven shaft (1971); unlike in shaft (1971), this film is depictive rather than didactic, using an epigraph that frames it as a work of neorealism, and its eponymous character strives not to be respectable but to be free. john shaft is a hero renowned for keeping one foot in the black community and one foot “in whitey’s trough,” who takes pleasure in his powerful virility and gains near-universal respect for it, and whose great heroic act is creating peace in new york by defusing a potential race war. sweet sweetback is as sexually potent as john shaft—as their matching phallic names suggest—but for him sexuality is always a transactional performance generally for the benefit of white men, earning him temporary safety at the cost of his dignity. heroism for sweetback is nothing more or less than survival when the entire white world is out to get him, and self-sacrifice for the cause of revolution that will bring dignity to all. on paper this makes him a much more passive character than shaft; in reality, shaft fits himself into a niche of granted power within whiteness, whereas sweetback abandons his niche of granted safety in hopes of something more. another fascinating point of comparison between the films lies in their use of other marginalized demographics. shaft (1971) puts a lot of work into setting black people up as equivalent to italians, with good italian cops paralleled with good black cops and romanticized italian organized crime paralleled with somewhat romanticized black organized crime. there are no “good cops” in this film, nor any individual cops at all; the entire police force is a faceless bloc of whiteness. rather than setting up italians as a demographic sympathetic and equivalent to black people, this film shows hispanic and queer people—also oppressed, also unromanticized and unfavorable in the contemporary camera eye—in the role of allies to sweetback against the police. the intentions and message of this film are very different from those of shaft (1971). although shaft (1971) is the model that many subsequent blaxploitation films, especially the white-directed ones, follow, sweet sweetback’s baadasssss song (1971) has earned strong and lasting critical acclaim, and for good reason; i deeply enjoyed it and would highly recommend it

#ryddles

7 notes · View notes

denimbex1986 · 10 months

Text

'Of all the fascinating people who came into J. Robert Oppenheimer’s life during his years at UC Berkeley, few are as intriguing — or as tragic — as Jean Tatlock, the woman some believe was the love of his life.

Oppenheimer was 25 when he arrived on the Berkeley campus in 1929 as an associate professor of physics. He moved into 2665 Shasta Road, up the windy, steep hills that flank the university. From the windows, he could see the bay.

The Shasta Road property was always lively. In the main house, Oppenheimer’s landlord Mary Ellen Washburn hosted constant parties; intellectuals roved in and out of the property, debating ideas and drinking late into the night. Oppenheimer objected to teaching before 11 a.m. so he could stay up chatting and smoking.

In the spring of 1936, Oppenheimer met a young woman named Jean Tatlock at one of these parties. He already knew her father, an acclaimed Berkeley professor of Old English; professor John Tatlock enjoyed having lunch with Oppenheimer at the Faculty Club, where Oppie, as he was known around campus, showed off his wide-ranging knowledge of literature and ability to recite passages from memory.

Jean was 22 and brilliant. She was in her first year at Stanford Medical School, studying to be a psychiatrist. This, of course, was highly unusual for a woman in the 1930s, and Tatlock made an impression. Friends and acquaintances recalled she was the type of person everyone noticed when she walked into a room. (Florence Pugh was cast as Jean Tatlock in Christopher Nolan’s “Oppenheimer” movie.)

#OPPENHEIMER will have its French premiere on July 11th at the Grand Rex in Paris. pic.twitter.com/W0o25gL6cy

— Florence Pugh Photos (@pughphotos) June 29, 2023

Oppenheimer, who loved sharp, unconventional women, fell fast. By the fall, the pair were an item, and something of an intellectual power couple. Oppenheimer was the star of the physics department, luring talent from all over the nation to join him. Tatlock was a trailblazing psychiatrist who delighted Oppenheimer with her love of poets like John Donne. “All of us were a bit jealous,” one friend recalled in “American Prometheus,” the definitive Oppenheimer biography.

Their relationship, though, was a tumultuous one. Tatlock went through periods of deep depression, and Oppenheimer was often the person who talked her through them. When she was low, so was he. “American Prometheus” detailed how Robert Serber, a nuclear physicist who met Oppenheimer at Berkeley and became one of his closest friends, watched their relationship unfold.

“He’d be depressed some days because he was having trouble with Jean,” Serber said.

Over the course of three years, they got engaged at least twice, broke things off and kept getting back together. Serber said Tatlock would cut contact with Oppenheimer for weeks or even months. When she returned, Serber said she would “taunt him about whom she had been with and what they had been doing. She seemed determined to hurt him, perhaps because she knew Robert loved her so much.”

In retrospect, it seems clear at least some of this tumult was due to Tatlock’s struggle to understand her own sexuality. In letters to friends, she expressed fear that she might be attracted to women. The thought tormented her — she was then a student of Freudian psychiatry, which maligned homosexuality as a mental defect. Torn between her genuine love for Oppenheimer and her anguished confusion, Tatlock called things off for good in 1939. A year later, Oppenheimer’s new love, a married woman named Kitty Harrison, became pregnant with his child. Her husband agreed to a divorce, and Harrison and Oppenheimer married in 1940.

When a friend asked Tatlock if she regretted not marrying Oppie, she said she did. Maybe she would have married him if she wasn’t “so mixed up,” Tatlock lamented.

But their relationship did not end — and their affair would have profound implications for both of them.

---

Between 1939 and 1943, it’s believed Oppenheimer continued seeing Tatlock several times a year. They still went to parties together in Berkeley, and at least once they got drinks at the Top of the Mark. When she was feeling low, she’d call Oppie and he’d talk to her for as long as it took to see her through the dark moment. In early 1943, he left for Los Alamos to head the Manhattan Project. No one could know the details of his work in the New Mexico desert. Oppenheimer left Tatlock without saying goodbye.

For Tatlock, who relied on Oppenheimer for support, this was a devastating abandonment. He couldn’t explain what had taken him away, and she wrote him pleading letters. By then, she had become a doctor at Mount Zion Hospital in San Francisco (today, it’s part of the UCSF campus). It was an incredible feat of determination in the male-dominated field, but despite her professional success, loved ones knew that Tatlock was not well.

On June 14, 1943, Oppenheimer flew from Los Alamos to see her. Unbeknownst to him, he was being tailed by military officers. In their report to the FBI, they said they watched Oppenheimer take the train from Berkeley to San Francisco, “where he was met by Jean Tatlock who kissed him.” They went to Xochimilco, a Mexican restaurant on Powell and Broadway, and had dinner and drinks. Then, they went back to her top floor apartment at 1405 Montgomery St., a pretty block tucked right underneath Coit Tower. With the spies watching from the street below, the lights went out at 11:30 p.m.

The next morning, Oppenheimer emerged from the flat. They had one last meal together at Kit Carson’s Grill before Tatlock drove him to the airport. He hopped a flight back to New Mexico, and she went home. Soon, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover had a report about their meeting in his hands.

Both were already on his radar. For much of Tatlock’s adult life, she had been a dues-paying, meeting-attending communist. She even wrote for the Communist Party’s official West Coast publication, the Western Worker. Hoover, with his characteristic paranoia, became convinced Tatlock might be passing nuclear secrets to the Soviets. “It has been determined that Jean Tatlock … has become the paramour of an individual possessed of vital secret information regarding this nation’s war effort,” Hoover wrote in a memo. He had the phone in Tatlock’s Montgomery Street apartment tapped.

There is no evidence Tatlock was any sort of spy, or that she even knew what Oppenheimer was doing at Los Alamos. In 1954, when Oppenheimer was interrogated over accusations he was a Communist sympathizer, he was asked why he flew to see Tatlock in 1943. “Because,” he answered, “she was still in love with me.”

Tatlock’s mental health deteriorated further in the months after their meeting. Around the start of the new year 1944, Tatlock stopped answering her phone. Fearing the worst, her father drove to her apartment on Jan. 4, 1944. He had to climb through an open window to get inside. There, he found his daughter in the bathtub. Jean Tatlock was dead. She was just 29.

Immediately after finding her, her father did an odd thing: He lit a fire and burned her letters and photos. A few hours later, he finally called a funeral parlor. That funeral parlor called police, who arrived at 1405 Montgomery to find a dead woman and a pile of burned paper. Although no one now living knows what those items were, many historians believe it may have been evidence that Tatlock was lesbian or bisexual.

Much has been made of the unusual circumstances of her death over the years, particularly because an autopsy found she’d eaten a full meal before dying. Some believed she was murdered by the government. But Tatlock left a handwritten suicide note and endured a lifetime of clinical depression, so most who knew her best did believe she ended her own life.

Sequestered at Los Alamos, the Serbers received a cable from Oppenheimer’s former landlady at Shasta Road. It informed them that Tatlock had died the day before. Robert Serber rushed to find Oppenheimer and break the news to him before someone else did. He was too late. “Deeply grieved,” Oppenheimer went for a long, solitary walk in the hills surrounding Los Alamos.

“Jean was Robert’s truest love,” Serber said. “He loved her the most. He was devoted to her.”

Tatlock’s family had her remains sent to Albany County, New York, where she was buried in the family plot. Her stone is simple. It reads:

Jean Frances Tatlock 21 February 1914 4 January 1944

---

In 1962, Gen. Leslie Groves, the military leader of the Manhattan Project, wrote to Oppenheimer asking why he had named the first atomic bomb test “Trinity.”

“Why I chose the name is not clear, but I know what thoughts were in my mind,” Oppenheimer replied. “There is a poem of John Donne, written just before his death, which I know and love.”

The poem he quoted was called “Hymn to God, My God, in My Sickness.”

I joy, that in these straits I see my west; For, though their currents yield return to none, What shall my west hurt me? As west and east In all flat maps (and I am one) are one, So death doth touch the resurrection.'

#Oppenheimer #Jean Tatlock #Florence Pugh #American Prometheus #John Donne #Leslie Groves #Hymn to God My God in My Sickness

34 notes · View notes