#Jean Turner

[goldiedraws]

Here's Grandpa Cypress's friend group! I love them very much

Irene James: An exceptionally kind woman who loves crochet and cooking and is teaching these to her foster son, Peter.

Charles Parker: A grouch slow to accept new things, very confident.

Margaret Davis: A kind lady who used to help Cypress on his farm.

Jean Turner: A loud and opinionated seamstress.

[fandomnerd9602]

the xmen questioning y/n on how he calmed down the scarlet witch and the dark Phoenix and why there so lovey to him

Scott: seriously what did you do?!

Y/N: I dunno

Wanda and Jean snuggle Y/N…

Wanda: simple

Jean: you were just you, baby. That’s all we needed

[saturnville]

candy bling, joe rantz.

pairing: joe rantz x black fem oc (cleotha jean). content: cleotha jean reminisces on her relationship with joe rantz. warning: more "modern" approach to their relationship. suggestive content. song: candy bling by mariah carey (I suggest you listen as you read). tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum

In the solitude of her room, Cleotha found herself surrounded by fragments of a past she had long tried to forget. She sifted through the contents of a dusty old box, memories flooded her mind with an intensity she hadn't felt in months. Each item she unearthed struck her heart in ways that made her uncomfortable, a relic of a love once consumed by every thought and emotion.

Among the treasures she tried to forbet lay a delicate silver anklet, its tiny bells tinkling softly as Cleotha held it in her hands. Memories of lazy summer days and whispered promises rushed back to her, painting vivid scenes of youthful romance and boundless dreams. 

“What’s this?” Cleotha asked as she was handed a small, velvet bag. Her movements were sluggish as she peeled herself off the pillow she and Joe shared. The soft moan she pushed out was enough to make his insides stir again. 

Joe pulled his arm behind his head and drummed his fingers against his sheet-covered thigh. A small smile pulled on his lips as he shrugged. “Open it.” 

Cleotha held the sheet to her chest and shook the bag. Jingle, jangle. Her eyebrow quipped as she opened the bag and dumped the content in her hand. Two thin gold chains fell out, shining under the gaze of the sun. She hummed in awe as she fingered the chains delicately. “Two bracelets?” 

“Bracelet and anklet,” Joe replied with extra emphasis, a teasing tone underlying in his words. Cleotha, who knew exactly why he bought it, threw her head back in laughter. She muttered, “You’re disgusting.” Still, she held her wrist out for him to place the bracelet on it. 

Joe pulled the sheet back to reveal her brown legs. He readjusted their positions so he was in between her legs, her foot against his bare thigh. Cleotha watched intently as he hooked the gold chain around her ankle. He smiled in pride.

“You like it?” Cleotha asked, rotating her foot in a circle. Joe hummed and palmed her thigh, hooking her leg around his waist. He brought his lips to hers, nipping and sucking at the plushness there. Then, he made his way back down, pecking at her collarbone down to her calf once more, placing her leg over his shoulder.

“I do. I’ll like it even more in a second. Lay back.”

He made her feel so beautiful that day, glistening like jewels beneath the sunlight. Next to it, a necklace adorned with the initials 'J' gleamed in the dim light. She tried to smile as she recalled when she first received it.

“Joe!” she gasped. “This is beautiful! Will you put it on me, please?” 

“Of course. Turn around for me.” 

The smile on her face was childlike as she stood back to chest with her lover. His warm hands pushed her hair over her shoulder then wrapped the chain around her neck. The gold complimented her skin beautifully. He connected the link to the clasp and tapped her hip when he finished. “Let me see, sweetheart.” 

Cleotha Jean grinned as she posed in front of him, the J on her chest smiling back at him. Joe nodded in approval, “Looks pretty, baby.” 

“You think so?” she gushed, running her fingers off the pendant. “Want a closer look?” Cleotha pulled him in by his belt loops and pushed him against the bed, climbing on top of him. SHe wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed butterfly-like kisses all along his face. His cheeks were stained red from her lips,

Joe’s eyebrow raised in amusement as he welcomed her affection, His eyes dropped to the pendant that swung against her chest. “Yes ma’am.” 

But it was the worn envelope nestled at the bottom of the box that stirred something deep within Cleotha's soul. With trembling fingers, she traced the creases of the paper, feeling the weight of years of unspoken words and unanswered prayers. As she unfolded the letter, the words spilled forth like a long-forgotten melody, each line a poignant reminder of a love that had once defined her very existence. 

The park was their favorite place to be. Especially during the month of September. The sun still hugged them, but didn’t suffocate them with her warmth. Nature sung its harmonious song, the animals danced with each other amongst the trees, and the grass was still a bright green. It was a peaceful place to be. 

It was like every other weekend; Cleotha Jean and Joe were sprawled across a picnic blanket with a basket of food propped open in front of them. Joe was lying on his back while Cleotha sat upright munching on strawberries and coloring in her book. 

“Cleo,” Joe said. Cleotha hummed and continuing coloring her flower. “I wrote you a letter.” 

Her coloring stopped. She swallowed the remainder of her strawberry and dropped her colored pencil. Joe reached behind him for a white envelope that he managed to tuck under the blanket without her noticing. He extended it to her, which she took with thanks. 

Joe watched as Cleotha curiously peeled open the envelope and retrieved the letter. It was folded in threes, and was filled from top to bottom. 

My forever sweetheart, Cleotha Jean, 

You don’t understand that I wake up everyday and give thanks that you walked into my life. I felt that I was nothing but a poor kid with seemingly nothing to offer the world until you showed me otherwise. 

I didn’t think it was possible to love someone more than I loved myself. Your existence proves me otherwise. 

I often wonder if you know that you are a gift in human form. Wrapped in a brown shell, garnished with gold. I wish to keep you with me forever, as long as you’ll have me.

I often think about our future together. How I’m going to marry you as soon as we graduate. We’ll buy a house, travel the world, and have children. I’m still banking on 3, but whatever you want, I’ll be content. As long as I’m with you, I’ll take anything.

I want to be yours forever, if you’d have me. 

Will you marry me? 

The letter flew from Cleotha’s hands as she screamed loudly. The birds above her croaked at her sudden outburst. Her hands flew over her mouth and she finally made eye contact with her lover, who’d positioned himself on one knee with an open box in his hand.

The ring was beautiful. It was dainty, just as she liked, and a rich shade of gold. His eyes were hopeful as he awaited her reaction. 

“Will you—“

“Yes!” Cleotha replied gleefully. She threw her arms around him so wildly that he fell backward into the grass. His laughs were music to her ears. “Yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you.” 

Joe smiled, “Yeah?” 

Cleotha bit back a teary smile and nodded. “Yeah. It’s you and me forever.”

Her sweet baby. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until she finished the letter and a puddle of tears smudged his neat handwriting. Cleotha folded the letter and put it back in the box, right next to the ring she took off months prior. It stared back at her and she forced herself to look away. She didn’t want to keep it, but Joe insisted she did, saying “it’s yours. I will never take back what rightfully belongs to you.”

With each memory unearthed, Cleotha found herself transported back to a time when love was pure, and the future seemed to be filled with promise. Yet, as she traced the contours of her past, a sense of longing stirred within her, a yearning for the man who had once held her heart in his hands.

She should’ve been over him by now, she scolded herself. Their union had ended more than a year ago; what was she holding onto? Well, another side of her probed. A three year relationship that began in college, an engagement, wedding planning, house hunting, and a planned future. It all dimished at the blink of an eye. It would take more than a year to recover from such emotional trauma. 

Cleotha befriended a bottle of red wine after that. It was sweet and savory, just like him. She chuckled lowly as her fingers dapped away the drop that fell from the corner of her lips. She should slow down, she figured, but it was the anniversary of a love that she cherished more than herself. She owed it to herself to get wine drunk and eat popcorn, right?

She tucked her feet under herself and poured another glass, humming a tune, though nothing particular, to herself. Just as she brought the glass to her lips, a knock sounded on her door. Her eyebrow quipped as her eyes darted to a nearby clock. It was 9:32 on a Saturday night, who could have been at her door. 

“Hold on!” she called out, glass in hand as she stumbled lightly to reach the door. She cursed as she stepped on a shoe that she kicked off in the entryway, toyed with the locks, and peeled the door open. “Oh…” 

If anyone would have told her he’d be standing in front of her right now, she would have called them a liar. The communication had been severed eons ago, only having heard from him when she got the job promotion she had been praying for. Any other conversation, interaction, or moment of desire, was a faction of her imagination. Yet, here he stood, a ghost from her past, with sorrow etched in his eyes and regret weighing heavily on his shoulders. And she had no clue how to handle it. 

She didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or throw herself in his arms. He looked so different than when she last saw him. He was broader, presumably from working out to keep in shape as he moved on from his athlete days. His hair was still platinum, but it was slicked back rather than messible touseled, though she loved it that way. His eyes, so gorgeous and blue, were so sad and empty. 

“Hi, Cleo…” 

Cleotha’s eyes welled with tears. She’d yell, scream, and put him in his place in the morning, but right now, all she could do is throw her arms around his neck and cry woefully into his shirt. With a voice choked with an emotion, she found the strength to say, “I missed you.” Her voice trembled with vulnerability. “I missed you so much.”

And in Joe's eyes, Cleotha saw a flicker of longing that mirrored her own. They stood in the doorway of her home without the exchange of words. The tears and gentle touches spoke loud enough. Maybe in due time, what was broken could be repaired, and the union that began years ago, could be recovered. Just maybe.

—

likes are great, but feedback is desired as well, friends! thanks for reading!

[princington]

Vaticon Day 3 Opening Panel 🥰

[secondstar-acorn]

i caved

[citizenscreen]

Lana Turner and Jean Hagen in George Cukor’s A LIFE OF HER OWN (1950)

[soracities]

thinking of Kafka's so called failed drawing of a horse and my theory regarding the classic "its impossible to draw a horse" dilemma is not that you can't draw a horse but that hardly anyone can truly draw a Horse because even when you have it down anatomically you've still missed the Essence of Horse, the horseness of the Horse, if you will, and this is EVERYTHING

you can draw a cat or a pigeon and absolutely capture the catness and the pigeonness of a cat and a pigeon but the horseness of a horse is so phenomenally antithetical to any and all visual representation it will never sit right ever. got the proportions perfectly rendered? faithfully captured the sheen on the coat? delineated all the sinews and muscles of this insane beast in motion? great. still not a Horse though!!!

truly i think 3 year olds are sometimes the only people who see the horse for what it is bc accurate depictions of horsenessness have nothing to do w anatomy and EVERYTHING to do w expressing the Vibe of being near these ridiculous animals. like the entire history of art flounders before the horse bc no amount of breaking them into circles and boxes will help you whatsoever these creatures are made up ENTIRELY of an utterly INCOMPREHENSIBLE marriage between mad staggering bulk and fluid motion like lets be real a static image will NOT cut it no matter how perfect we think the flank-to-belly ratio is.

im sorry but the cult of Realism has warped our minds Kafka nailed it this is precisely what a horse IS precisely !!

i rest my case

[dailyjeangrey]

Some of our favorite posters for Dark Phoenix(2019)

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

When Marvel does their inevitable reboot of the X-Men movie series, I’m lowkey wondering if they’ll consider bringing back the actors from the Fox X-Men series due to audience recognition. Maybe some will get recast, but I can see a few actors being brought back (namely Channing Tatum since he barely got to play Gambit and audiences seemed to like him). They’ve already shown a desire to bring back the Fox cast through Deadpool and Wolverine.

Of course, you’ll have the diehard fans wondering how that’s gonna work since multiverse/timeline stuff, but honestly, there’s an easy way to work around that issue. Marvel Studios could literally just do what they did with Worst Wolverine and say, “Yeah, we brought back the Fox actors, but they’re playing an alternate universe version of their original character so we don’t have to rely on the Fox timeline.” And we know that’s not a dealbreaker for audiences since Worst Wolverine was well-received, especially since Hugh got to wear the comic accurate suit.

And also, there’s another incentive to bringing back the Fox cast. Since age is a potential issue (Hugh’s 55 now and I’m sure Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen are tired of playing Charles and Erik), bringing back certain actors would make sense since they’re young and could portray their respective character for several more years. I’m mostly thinking about Sophie Turner as Jean Grey, Tye Sheridan as Scott Summers, and Kodi Smit-McPhee as Kurt Wagner.

Anyways, those are just my thoughts. We’re still a few years off from any X-Men reboot anyways, but it’s still something I’m curious as to how they’ll handle it.

EDIT: oh, forgot another incentive. Saves time from having to go through the casting process.

[scottxlogan]

@giftober 2023 | Day #10: "New". The young (newer) versions the X-Men characters in X-Men Dark Phoenix

[editfandom]

X-MEN: DARK PHOENIX, 2019 | Sophie Turner as Jean Grey

[franciegummstarstruck]

Happy Heavenly 104th Birthday glamour girl Lana Turner 💖🎂🎉 February 8, 1921 - ထ

[saturnville]

Hi 👋🏾

So yesterday I was driving and I was listening to Try Sleeping With A Broken Heart by Alicia Keys & I immediately thought of your Candy Bling - Joe Rantz Fic. I feel like it fits the story so well. Not sure if you plan on adding more to it but with the way it ended, I’d be open to reading it. <3

inseparable | sleeping with a broken heart, joe rantz

pairing: joe rantz x black fem oc (cleotha jean). content: cleo and joe have a conversation. warning: angst. fluff. song: inseparable by mariah carey and try sleeping with a broken heart by alicia keys an: welllll long time, no see. hope y'all enjoyed tags: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum

She had dreamed of this day for months, Where the invisible string between them would become shorter and shorter and their hearts would reunite as one. It was always a fairytale in her eyes; he’d come to her desparate and weeping for her forgiveness and they’d ride off into the sunset with dopey smiles on their faces, drunk off the love they had for one another. 

It was quite the opposite. They sat at opposite ends of her elongated dining room table, fiddling with the delicate wine glasses that held a dangerous amount of sweet red wine that she’d refilled twice more since his arrival. For them to be so uncomfortable in each other’s presence was so unlike them. It drove her mad. 

The silence was deafening and could cut the tension like a sharped-bladed knife. Cleotha wrapped her hand around the body of the glass and brought it to her lips, “What brought you here, Joe?” Her words were muffled from the glass, but he heard her loud and clear. 

Joe’s jaw clenched as he thought long and hard about his answer. Nothing that he said would matter regardless of how he tried to phrase it. Simply put, he was scared. But, he knew she wouldn’t hear that. They were so in love and he proposed to her. If he was scared, he would’ve broken it off sooner than later. But, it wasn’t that he was scared of commitment or being together with her forever, he doubted his ability to be the best life partner he could be. 

His parents’ relationship wasn’t successful; hell, they left him an orphan. There was no guidance on how to be a good man let alone a good partner and soon-to-be husband. So, as he explained to her, “I panicked.” 

Cleotha Jean was not easily amused, but his response drew a chuckle from her. Her tired eyes held no life. “Panicked? About what, Joe? I-I-I’m not understanding. We were together for almost 3 years and you panic weeks after our engagement, call off the wedding, then show up at my house months later just to say you panicked?” 

Joe inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. She was upset and rightfully so. But, the harshness of her words made him want to crawl into a hole and stay there. It was deeper than she thought. Yet, being the emotionally intelligent person she worked to be, Cleotha took note of how he retreated further into his seat and sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. But, Joe, I just…panicked for what?” 

He panicked. She hurt. She’d lay in bed at night and pray that God would mend the heart she’d feel break like rock to a window. She’d writhe in pain, begging for him to return. He panicked while she suffered. 

“I got in my head, Cleo,” he said shortly. “You have both parents in your life and your father loves your mother more than words can describe. He’s a good man, a good father, and a good husband. I never had that example. I freaked out. I don’t have parents, I don’t have an example of what a good husband should be. The last thing I wanted to do was take this huge step and failing you as a husband. That kind of weight either makes or breaks a person…and it broke me. And I’m sorry for putting you through that.” 

Cleotha’s lips twisted as she fought the lump that formed in her throat. She sought for any form of dishonesty or lack of truth in his eyes, but all she saw was a plea for forgiveness. One more chance, he begged silently.

“It might take forever and a day for you to forgive me, but…I can’t do life without you, Cleo. I tried and I’ve been so miserable. Words can’t make up for anything, but I want to start over.” 

And the question became, would she agree? 

-

“A little to the left, baby,” she said, hands pressed against the small of her back as she waddled toward the middle of the nursery. He glanced upward at her after he made the adjustment to the position of the white crub. “Perfect. Thank you, baby.” 

Her husband stood to his feet and walked toward her with a smile on his face. He planted the softest kiss against her lips, hands around her swelling belly. “You’re welcome. Looking beautiful as ever.” His lips grazed the skin of her neck, making her eyes flutter closed. She giggled and pressed her hands against his chest. “Joe…” 

“I’ll never get enough of you, Cleo,” he drug out her name playfully and pecked her forehead. “Love you darling.” 

Cleotha smiled. Everything that she desired had fallen into place just as it should have and they were inseparable. And boldly, she repeated. “I love you too.”

[fancyschmancyopinions]

SOPHIE TURNER at the premiere of “Joan” on September 30th 2024 in London wearing LOUIS VUITTON

Now this is how you wear a matching set. Sophie looked phenomenal in this monochrome look. I loved the material and the black details. The oversized jacket worked amazing and this was such a cool look.

[jeangreythephoenixx]

I’m afraid one day that I’ll hurt someone

[ynonnemonlaur]

Jane Russel modeling a Michael Woulfe dress (1952)