#i love you ryan coogler

[bardicious]

Y'all really had me believing that Marvel ruins the work of perfectly good directors, huh? Bullshit. Ryan Coogler has shown twice that when you're creative, smart, and respect your source material you will consistently make beautiful, fun, thoughtful, and funny movies.

As always, I applaud you Ryan Coogler for being one of the only decent creators in Marvel.

[the-eyes-of-andyserkis]

[ Part One ] - [ Part Two ] - [ Part Three ] - [ Part Four ] [ Part Five ] - [ Part Six ] - [ Part Seven ] - [ Part Eight ]

[chokkohasthehellsite]

the silent intro was probably the best part of the whole movie. when i watched that, there was NO sound. everyone watching along was deathly silent. it reminded me of the minute of silence people take when in mourning or remembrance and i started fucking sobbing straight away. it was a beautiful way to pay respects towards such a legend.

[cronchygravel]

ryan coogler what have you done to me i've watched your movie twice already and i'm gonna see it a third time this weekend omg

[practicalsmagic]

I had a feeling Black Panther was gonna do THAT even before the TV spots spoiled it for me but I would have loved to been fully surprised in the theater

[thelastharbinger]

Ryan Coogler saying how Namor is basically Peter Pan (in that he's forever young and quite charming because of his playfulness, *I think about that scene where he spooks Shuri with what would happen to her body underwater if she visited Talokan, only to 2 seconds later be like "or you can wear a suit, we have a couple of those." Also the name Namor is literally derived from the phrase "El niño sin amor/ The child without love"*)

AND how he wanted Namor to have a vibe that is "seductive and threatening, which Tenoch does really well. He has very rich eyes that can hold a lot."

Like yes! Tenoch's eyes is where the magic of his acting really comes to fruition and we should talk about that more!

[mymarsmoonandstars]

It's been a week since I saw Wakanda Forever, and ever since, it's consumed my thinking. There are a million things I'd love to discuss about the film, but what keeps me up at night is Shuri and Namor.

Shuri had every right to gut his ass. Namor brought flooding and destruction to her home, killed her mother, all while knowing she was suffering from the death of her brother. Hell, Namor nearly killed her (by impaling her, which how did she survive that idk, anyway). And what was the worst thing that Shuri had done to him? Say no to his alliance to go to war with the surface world? Shuri wasn't the one who killed Namor's two subjects. She actually tried to save them. Yet just like T'Challa, she's forced to deal with the consequences of other people's actions, and when she stands over Namor with a blade to his neck, her internal struggle with this flashes across screen. It's a powerful sequence, but the one that captures me the most is when we hear her mother telling her to show Namor who she is. Not only is it one of many callbacks to the first film, but really, who is she? Who is Shuri? She is struggling with her identity, as grief often does to a person.

When audiences first met Shuri, she was the genius younger sister, the comic relief, who took solace in her lab. But now all this has been taken from her, and taken so suddenly. She's now front and center, now her country's most powerful figure, no longer the jokester, no longer a sister, no longer a daughter, and feels like a failure. The moments where she stands over Namor is us watching her return to herself but also become someone entirely new. She sees the destruction reverse. Sees Namor's hope. Sees their mothers and their nations. She understands that they are similar just as much as they are different. She finally realizes that ending Namor's life cannot reverse the destruction nor her pain, but sparing him is the answer to ending the cycle of it. She recognizes that even though her mother and brother are gone, she is still sister, still daughter. Death in Wakanda is a beginning.

Above all, Shuri understands she cannot think of only herself anymore. She cannot push her people to war because of her own grief and vengefulness. She becomes a leader, in granting mercy. A protector.  And extends this protection by offering it to Namor and his people. This brought a bitter taste in my mouth at first, but it isn't about who's right or wrong, especially when both sides have a little right or a little wrong to them. It's about navigating the actions of their forebearers in the best way they can.

Her multifaceted character is symbolized by her panther suit--it's reminiscent of T'Challa, Kilmonger, and her past self. Now that she's burned her mourning clothes, hopefully in the next movie, we'll see her accept this role with newfound confidence and surity of its purpose. I'm also hoping that Shuri kept Namor's little baby ankle wing that she sliced off and puts it up somewhere to serve as a reminder that she bested him. Can you imagine? I can't wait to see more of her.

Then there's Namor. And dare I say it, he was justified in his feelings of wanting to kill Queen Ramonda. She was cunning and tricked him and had two of his people killed in the process. Remember the scene where he's cradling his subject's face as she dies? And she asks if he can save her and he does not answer because he knows he cannot? And then--was it Namora?--who says, with such blame dripping in her voice, that he was busy meeting with the queen during Nakia's attack. Namor is so angry, and very possibly, so ashamed (and scared?). His ultimate goal is to protect his people, and he failed. He's a god and Ramonda made him look like a fool. To him, she had to go.

Ryan Coogler said that despite Namor being about 500 years old, he wanted him to still feel somewhat childlike. And is he! He's rash. He focuses only on the immediate response without thinking of the ramifications. He seems almost charmingly innocent in his hopefulness that Shuri would want to join him. There's no doubt they wanted us to feel a romantic connection betweeen them, or perhaps just from Namor's end. I don't know who gives clearance on the music, but whoever does, they are always very intentional and unique about it, and a love song plays during That One Mesmerizing Scene. The theories that Namor is infatuated with Shuri just weaken me. She's the first person to ever see Talocan. The bracelet. The mural. Him acknowdging her power. Him waiting for her to beckon him. I. have. folded. No one look at me.

I really hope the MCU explores their relationship. And though I'm sure it would never be a romantic one, that does not make it any less intriguing. Ryan is phenomenal with his villains. Just like Kilmonger challenged T'Challa not just with war, but challenged his core beliefs, Namor did the same with Shuri. The only difference now is that Namor is still alive, and this sets us up for a delicious exploration of a complex relationship between two leaders who have similar wants but conflicting perspectives.

Man. I love them. MCU, please let us see more of them. And if we do, please. Be careful with them.

[akajustmerry]

A take...what makes Wakanda Forever a compelling story about grief and what sets Wakanda Forever apart from the other projects about grief in phase 4 isn't just the reality that Chadwick is really dead so people bring that to the their viewing, it's that they make the cause of T'challa's death in Wakanda Forever (relatively minor spoiler so stop reading if you don't want to know) also due to illness. Death in the mcu is often so fanciful and heroic and so it's so unrelatable because even if you understand/sympathise with losing the love of your life, losing them to a giant purple alien and then building a sitcom town with a magical clone version of him, etc isn't going to be relatable or accessible or even a realistic experience with grief which is why it falls flat and hollow. So, I think the choice Ryan Coogler made ie. having T'challa die of something so ordinary as an illness no one could heal him from, then Wakanda Forever's main character archs being Shuri gaining the strength to sit with her memories without being consumed by anger and loss - THAT was a more moving and powerful narrative about grief because it's real. It's something most people have personally experienced with a loved one. because in reality most of our loved ones don't die heroic sacrificial deaths, they die from benign unseen forces in the world and it still hurts just as much to lose them. And I think Wakanda Forever taking the chance to tell that story, that people you love will die and they probably will die suddenly from things they never chose that aren't heroic or incredible that no one can save them from - and that it's still devastating and a grief worthy of acknowledgement...I appreciated that so much, and to centre Black women's grief specifically and allow characters who are Black women the space to be angry and messy and make mistakes in that grief was so beautiful. It hits close to home because it's real and I just loved it so much.

[liyawritesss]

ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴ', ʟᴏᴠɪɴ', ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴ'

Characters: HBCU!Emerald Haywood, HBCU!Shuri Udaku x Black!Fem!Reader

From: NOPE (2022) Dir. Jordan Peele & Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022) Dir. Ryan Coogler

Type: Fic

Word Count: 12.8k

In Collaboration With: @babyboiboyega

Synopsis: Emerald and Shuri finally meet for the first time, and when coming to the realization that you’ve been keeping yourself away from them deliberately, the two women plan to give you exactly what you want.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drug usage (cannabis), mentions of greening out,  suggestive themes, smut

A/N: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️ this is an 18+ rated fic, you have been warned. I ain't responsible for scarring yall asses. But yeah, this is my first time writing sex...particularly wlw sex so I hope that it makes sense and actually sounds accurate. This Is the product of Quin and I's heavy thirsting one cold night in early January....This is also inspired by the great @generallysapphic and their amazing catalog of expertly written wlw smut with our favorite Wakanda Forever geniuses. With that being said, I hope you all enjoy this one. Strap in, this is a long one(no pun intended)!

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @badass-dora-milaje @babyboiboyega @verachii @heartsforjojo @letitias-fav @kingstormpostsshit @shurismainbxtch @zayswriting @rxcently @nzia-writes @writingintheshadowsforever @hufflehans @kokichiis7 @xxmilli @typicalme13 @zestgodtj @generallysapphic @ziayamikaelson @shuriszn @percsane @justariellove @n7cje @mbakuetshurisprincess

Today is the day.

There’s a pool of anxiety forming in your tummy, and you’re not sure why. Not even your music can sway you into calmer waters, which tells you that the feeling in your tummy is nothing to play off.

You’re standing in the mirror, going over your figure once more. The three-piece cream lounge set you wore, complete with fuzzy shorts, cropped tank and long flow-y cardigan contrasted beautifully against your honey brown skin. Your braids had been pulled into a half-up ponytail, with two on each side left down in the front to frame your face. It was the set Emerald had bought you for your birthday, knowing that you’d love the fabric used. Ironically Shuri bought you the exact same one, color and all, saying that the color of it reminded her of you.

God, how did you manage to have Emerald Haywood and Shuri Udaku wrapped around your dainty little finger? Even you couldn't answer that question.

Looking at the both of them, who’s polaroid pictures had been taped lovingly on the fringe of your full length mirror, anyone could tell that you had a type. Dark skin, brown eyes, curly hair - the only thing making them different were their origins and occupations. And the one thing tying these two women of completely different worlds together, was you.

You remember the day you first met Emerald. You’d been shopping at Best Buy trying to find a new camera to take better pictures with for your photography class. Emerald was there, and from the moment she saw you, she knew she had to have you. Sparking up a conversation was easy, and the laughter that was shared in that camera aisle was one you’d never experienced before. Despite her brother cockblocking, as she would recall it, urging for them to go, Emerald took her sweet time typing her number into your phone. The wink she sent you had butterflies dancing in your stomach, and til this day, it still does.

Then, two weeks later, you met Shuri Udaku. Despite her wanting to keep her social status under tight lock and key, the air of regality and confidence she held did little to help her keep her identity under wraps. Not to mention, she’d seen you in her African American Literature class, and was immediately captivated by your intelligence. After class, Shuri didn’t hesitate to pull you aside, apologize for her abruptness, and ask you out on a date. She wanted to court you properly, and, if things went well, she would propose the option of making things official.

Suddenly, you found yourself catching feelings for both women, who wanted you just as much as you wanted them. And what made it harder to choose was that they not only said how much they wanted you, they thoroughly showed it in acts of service, giving you gifts, and taking on roles that previous partners of yours had never done before, and could never compare to.

At first, you believed you had to choose, but then the thought came to you; why choose, when you could have both?

You’d since begun your plot of making them both yours, and only yours, and step one had been to slowly introduce the idea of polygamy to each woman. Shuri was more susceptible to the concept, having grown up in an environment where queer relationships and polygamy were just as normal as heterosexual relationships and monogamy were. She verbally told you that she would be more than willing to give polygamy a shot, and you were more than happy that she accepted the idea.

Then, there was Emerald, who you had to put in a bit more work when talking about polygamy. She is in no way a stranger to queerness, but polygamy as a concept was something she found a bit hard to grasp. But after explaining it a few times, using a few analogies that pertained to her and her interests to better help her understand the concept, she, too, was all in for it.

Emerald and Shuri had met before, only over the phone via Facetime and in your shared group chat. The two got along swimmingly, becoming the fastest friends and soon enough shooting flirtatious words at each other within the month after confirming that they’d each be willing to give this three-person relationship a shot. The last part of this scheme, to absolutely make sure that all three of you were willing to put in the effort to make this work, was for Shuri and Emerald to meet in person.

And today was the day that Shuri and Emerald could be coming to your apartment to do just that.

You’d taken special care in your attire today, hence the lounge set you’d chosen to put on, as well as the purple diamond studded necklace with panther claws that Shuri had gifted you a while ago, and Emerald’s favorite scent on you - sage and vanilla bean, as the scent drove the woman insane. 

A knock sounded at your door, breaking you from your daze and making you jog to the door to answer. It was none other than Shuri, who had also gotten the memo about loungewear, since this would be a pretty laid back and chill day. Sporting a simple dark gray sweat pant and hoodie set, and her hair in a fresh twist out letting her curls hand low on her forehead, and her ears sporting the same kimoyo earrings she always wore; Shuri looked so fucking attractive.

“Hi, usana,” She says, immediately reaching out to pull your frame against hers. Her arms instinctively snaking around your waist, her warm, slightly calloused hands feeling so warm against the small of your back as she pulled you in. Your arms instinctively went to wrap around her neck, embracing her back, and if it wasn’t in the doorway of your apartment, you’d stay there in that embrace forever.

“Hi, baby,” you whisper against her neck, the similar smell of sage and lavender ticking your nose, making you smile against her skin. You brung Shuri into your apartment, taking notice of the backpack she’d brought with her and ignoring the heat that trickled down your legs. Shuri knows your apartment by heart, and once she tucks her bag away in the storage closet, she makes her way to the couch with you.

“Where’s Em?” Shuri questions, noticing the missing presence in the apartment.

“She got held up with her brother on something, she should be here in, like, an hour.” You reply, to which Shuri acknowledges with a hum as she takes a seat on the couch. Her body sinks into the cushions, her legs spread, and she stretches, and you catch the tiniest glimpse of her toned tummy. The little sound she makes from stretching makes you giggle a bit, as you walk over to take your place on her lap.

Shuri’s hands are instinctive and skillful, positioning your body so you’re sitting across her lap, and her hands are on any bare skin she can get in contact with. She’s clingy, she normally gets like this after a long day of classes or doing her science projects. You go to embrace her once more, and her head finds comfort in your breasts, inhaling your scent, bringing her comfort.

“Missed you, my love,” she whispers against you.

“Missed you too, baby,” you reply, pressing a kiss to her temple.

The next hour is spent with the two of you just talking about your day. Your hand dances on Shuri’s undercut as she speaks, your nude acrylics creating soothing friction against the nape of her neck and the design in her undercut. It’s one of the mundane, completely normal things that turns her on the most, and while Shuri tries to keep her composure, you notice how her breath hitches ever so slightly, and the subtle shifts she makes under you.

There’s another knock at your door, and the only person it could be is Emerald. The anxious pool from before finds its way back into your stomach, as you quickly stand up to answer the door. Shuri follows after, albeit keeping a few feet of distance away to allow Emerald easy passage into the humble abode.

There in the doorway stands the last addition to your trio, in all her glory. She sports an oversized graphic t-shirt, baggy jeans and her signature Doc Martens. She has a chain dangling from her neck, and her curls also dance along her forehead beautifully.

Similar to Shuri, Emerald greets you with a “Hey, mamas,” as she brings you in by the waist, and you by her neck. After your embrace, you rush her inside, and you turn to see Emerald and Shuri greet each other warmly, with Em initiating a hand shake that Shuri gladly reciprocates, and it ends in the two women embracing each other.

“Man, you don’t know how good it is to finally meet you!” Emerald beams, showing off her killer smile to the young royal. “Wait- I ain’t gotta curtsy or none of that right? We cool off that?”

“It is good to see you, too, Em.” Shuri replies, her own smile, brighter than any sunrise you’ve ever witnessed, adorning her face. “And no, no curtsy needed. I’m just Shuri here.”

The anxiety that once pooled in your stomach disappeared the moment you saw them embrace each other. The two women took their positions on your couch (Emerald had also discarded the backpack she brought in your storage closet, and again, the heat that pooled in your core came back, more intense than before), and the two immediately made space for you between them.

“Ain’t you comin’ to sit, ma?” Emerald asked.

You shook your head, bringing the two confusion. “As much as I’d love to be in between my two favorite people - dinner isn’t gonna cook itself.” you replied, instead making your way into the kitchen, “But please, talk, get to know each other! I’m not even here!”

Your little chime brings laughter from both Emerald and Shuri, and they do as you wish, conversating amongst themselves and entertaining each other while you focus on dinner.

It’s sometime in the evening, determined by the way the pretty golden beams of the setting sun shine into your apartment through the large floor to ceiling bay windows. 

Emerald had gone to fetch your bottle of wine from the kitchen, planting a quick kiss to your forehead and an even quicker swat at your butt, causing you to gasp in surprise. You shoo her out of the kitchen as she grabs two wine glasses for her and Shuri. As she approaches the couch once more, she catches sight of the way the sun does wonders to Shuri’s skin, making glow effortlessly, and damn, Emerald finds herself enraptured by this princess. And Shuri takes note of it, a small smirk plastering itself on her face. 

“Something catch your eye, my gem?” Shuri asks innocently, using the nickname she had given to Emerald the moment the other became comfortable with the concept of polygamy, using it as a stepping stone to further the attraction.

Emerald scrunches her nose as she places a glass in front of Shuri, pouring the red alcoholic beverage into it, as she replies, “Shut up, princess.”

Her reply gains a chuckle from Shuri, who takes a sip of the wine when Emerald finishes pouring. She immediately recognizes the taste as the fruity bitterness slips down her throat, “Barefoot?”

“Aww, you know your liquor, aye?” Emerald sings, pouring her own class.

“It's the only thing I can keep down,” Shuri explains, “anything other than wine and I go bat-shit crazy. Learned that at my first college party.”

“Don’t tell me they gave you Henny right off the bat? No chaser?”

“Man, they didn’t even give me a warning of what would happen!” Of course, Shuri’s experience was not a laughable one, but the way she spoke of it brought a rumble of laughter from the other brown skinned woman.

“They did you wrong, princess. Don’t worry though, I ain’t gon’ set you up like that,” Emerald hums, “Besides wine, I only fucks with light liquor anyway, so that dark shit don’t even be up my alley.”

Shuri rests back on the couch as she takes in Emerald’s side profile. The sun that once shone on her skin now hit Emerald’s beautifully. The hoop earrings that hung from her ears, her fresh, shiny curls, her sharp jawline - Shuri couldn’t help but feel something warm pool into her stomach from the sight of such a beautiful woman. It’s a miracle she’s even able to be here now - her schedule had been hectic as of late, which is why the meeting between the two had been postponed until now - but she’s now grateful to be in the presence of both the women she loved.

“You look beautiful, Emerald,” Shuri suddenly blurts out, albeit confidently and not ashamed in the slightest. It catches Emerald off guard, not used to verbally hearing Shuri’s straightforwardness, but nonetheless, it excites her.

“You not bad lookin’ yourself, ‘ri,” Emerald replies, but she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t heat creeping up her neck from the sudden compliment. “Aye, do you smoke?”

“Not really, no,” Shuri replied, “I’ve only ever gotten contact high, thanks to that one in there,” she continued, gesturing to your figure in the kitchen, still cooking.

“You wanna? I got a couple of blunts on me.” Emerald offers. Shuri takes a moment to think, before shrugging her shoulders in indifference. “Wouldn’t hurt, I don’t think.”

With that confirmation, Emerald fishes out a blunt from her front pocket, as well as a lighter, and with swiftness and expertise, she lights the brown roll up and takes a pull from it. Soon after it leaves her lips, she emits a puff of smoke from them. Shuri watches intently, more so the other woman’s lips than the actions she took to pull the intoxicating smoke from the blunt.

“Aight, so, it's simple shit,” Emerald begins, turning her body to face Shuri, and the princess does the same, “you just put to your lips and inhale. Don't do it too deep, though, just do it a lil’ bit, and once you feel like you got enough, you just blow out. Aight?”

Shuri nodded in confirmations, as Emerald handed Shuri the blunt. Shuri took it, examining the roll quizzingly, before raising it up to her lips and doing as she was instructed. Her lungs took a slight burn from the intake of smoke, and when she released it from behind her lips, a cough also escaped as a form of relief to her stinging lungs.

“Aye, good job, princess!” Emerald praised, raising a hand to pat Shuri’s back to aid in her slight coughing fit. She took the blunt from Shuri’s hand, seeing that she may be good for another few puffs before it was handed back to her.

“Why did it taste fruity?” Shuri inquires, intrigued by the taste of grape being left on her lips.

“Oh, the roll is flavored. This is white grape.” Emerald explains as she takes another pull of the blunt.

Shuri could feel the effects of the cannabis already taking hold, or at least, feel the smoke beginning to muddle her mind. It was an interesting feeling, made her feel light and airy, and oddly clingy. The next couple of pulls from Shuri had her fishing for Emerald’s hand to hold, of which the other woman found adorable and endearing. It reminded her of the first time she got high with you, and how incredibly touchy and clingy you were, desperate for her touch. The first night you got high together was forever emblazoned in Emerald’s mind.

“You good, princess?” Emerald asked, to which Shuri nodded, her voice becoming non-existent as the cannabis took control over her mind. She now laid her head against the couch, still fiddling with Emerald’s hand, and an idea came to Emerald’s mind. “Sit up for me, baby.”

Shuri obliged eagerly, curious to what Emerald was doing. The smoker took a deep pull from the blunt, took Shuri gently by the throat, and brought the princess’s face closer to hers. Slowly, Emerald blew the stream of smoke right into Shuri’s lips, which had already formed an ‘o’ shape to receive it. Their lips were agonizingly close, and if it wasn’t for Emerald’s hand keeping her in place, Shuri would have leaned in to kiss Emerald.

Shuri withstood the smoke, feeling her mind becoming even more muddled by the drug. And as if her mind had been read, Emerald leaned in and connected her soft lips onto Shuri’s. Immediately, the princess melted into it, following Emerald’s guiding hand.

Emerald is the first to pull away, a smirk gracing her lips once she sees just how hooked Shuri is.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Emerald mutters, and Shuri couldn’t agree more.

A voice - your voice - calls from the kitchen, your tone amused and slightly worried by Emerald’s antics. “Are you done corrupting my baby? The food is almost ready.”

“We comin’, we comin’,!” Emerald says back, putting out her blunt and setting it on the ashtray on your coffee table, moving to stand up. Now that her mind isn't consumed with how pretty Shuri looks high and intaking the smoke from the shotgun, she notices that the princess is a bit too quiet for her liking. Giving Shuri’s figure a once over, Emerald’s expert eyes ntoice the slight tremble that’s overtaking Shuri’s body.

“A-Are you my hands suppose to be shaking, Emerald?” 

“Shit-”

“Em, what’s wrong?”

Emerald is no stranger to green outs, witnessing and experiencing them alike, but the idea that she was too fast and too much for the princess to handle made a pang of guilt spring in her chest.

“Nothin’! Bring Shuri a glass of water, bae!”

Perplexed, you complied, reaching into the fridge for a bottle water and bringing it to the couch where Emerald and Shuri had made themselves at home, and you soon saw why Emerald requested the clear beverege.

“What the hell- Did you green her out?!”

“It was an accident, I swear!”

It takes a split second for you to take Emerald’s previous spot on the couch, immediately going into nurturing mode and examining the extent of Shuri’s trembles. It’s only her hands and legs that are shaking, not violently but also not slightly either.

“Em, help me take her sweatshirt off, she’s sweating,” you instruct, and in another swift motion, Emerald takes a seat behind Shuri on the couch. With care you strip the princess of her sweatshirt, leaving her in her black sports bra, her skin damn with a thin layer of sweat.

“Hey, baby, look at me,” you whisper softly to Shuri, who’s blown out eyes find yours with ease despite her current state, “you’re alright, okay? Just take some deep breaths, and drink this-” your hand gently pushes the small bottle of water into her own hands, which seemed to have calmed down from their light tremors, “-and I’ll bring you something to eat, okay?”

Shuri nods, taking in your words, though her mind is too foggy to comprehend much of anything else. Emerald embraces her from behind, and Shuri graciously finds comfort in leaning back into Emerald’s chest. The cotton fabric of her shirt is cool and refreshing against Shuri’s heated skin. As you stepped away to make your two lovers their plates, Emerald assists in bringing the water to Shuri’s lips to drink. The woman downed the liquid feverishly, and returns to her previous behavior of reaching for Emerald’s hand to ground her.

Once the bottle is done and discarded, Shuri goes to her wrist, pulling off the bracelet Emerald had been eying for its simple beauty. The princess places the beads on her chest, and before Emerald has a chance to ask what she’s doing, Shuri speakds;

“Griot, read me my vitals, please.” 

“Hello, princess.” a male voice sounds out, spiraling Emerald further into confusion.

“Hol’ on, is your bracelet talkin’-?”

“Your blood pressure is 80/120. Your heart rate is 102 beats per minute, slightly higher than your average 90 beats per minute. All organ and artery functions are good. You seem to be experiencing Tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) overdose, specifically due to a potent strand of cannabis known as Indica. This can cause nausea, abdominal pain, and dehydration. Would you like me to recommend foods and beverages to counteract the Tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) overdose?”

“No, that is all, thank you-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Emerald’s voice interjects, “your bracelet just fucking talked-!”

In Emerald’s astonishment, Shuri directs the AI to introduce itself to Emerald, as she’s still a bit far gone in her mind to fully concentrate on explaining her invention.

“Hello. May I register your name into my memory stores, so I know how to address you?”

“Uh….Em..-Emerald Haywood?”

“Hello ‘Em’. Is it alright if I address you as such?”

“Uh…sure?”

“Okay, Em. My name is Griot. I am an artificial intelligence designed by and to assist Princess Shuri in her scientific and engineering endeavors. My primary functions outside of laboratory duties are to read the Princess her daily vitals, generate answers to the Princess’s questions based on searches through the World Wide Web, and set and read out reminders for the Princess throughout her day.”

Emerald is too shocked to speak - never in her life had she encountered a piece of technology so advanced. She knew that Shuri was a pretty important person, and a literal genius, so it’s no surprise she would come in contact with one of her creations, but nothing like this ever crossed her mind.

“Thank you for the vital read, Griot,” you say, as you come from the kitchen holding two plates of food in your hand. You set them on the coffee table, one for each woman.

“Hello Ms. (Y/N). You are welcome for the vital read.”

“Does Shuri have any important messages from home?”

The AI beeps, stalls for a second, before responding, “No new messages, Ms. (Y/N).”

“Good, you can go on standby, then. We’ll take care of Shuri’s green out.”

The AI bids you farewell and beeps off, and Shuri sends you a look that says ‘thank you’ in reference to you checking her messages, something she’d been bad on doing as of late. You turn to Emerald’ who is still staring at the silver beads resting on her partners chest, then shoots a look back up to you.

“She got a talkin’ bracelet-”

“They’re called kimoyo beads, babe. And it’s an AI installed in it-”

“Do you got a talkin’ bracelet I don't know about?!”

You shake your head, instead bringing attention to a pair of earrings similar to Shuri’s. “I have earrings instead. They’re more discreet this way.”

“....so when can I get a talkin’ bracelet, or earrings, or whatever?”

“Oh my god, Em, just help Shuri eat something so the THC don’t eat away at her more than it already has.”

At that, Shuri makes a move to sit up on her own, slow and albeit a bit wobbly, still coming down from the unpleasant experience from the THC overdose. “I’m-I’m okay. I can eat on my own….I think.”

After you’ve gotten your food, the next hour is spent with Emerald and you practically doting on the princess as she recovers miraculously fast from her green out. Perhaps it is due to the vibranium herbal stores in the kimoyo beads, of which would have been released onto the skin and penetrate the surface level when Shuri’s body began displaying signals of distress. Or, it could be the enhancement the heart-shaped herb gave Shuri’s immune system when ingested long ago. The cause of her recovery didn’t matter as much as the fact that she was better, and was able to function without tremors disrupting her movements.

The three of you ate in peace while a movie played - Emerald’s commentary being more of the star of the show than the actual characters in the movie. In that time, you were able to take in both women in all their glory. Their warm, sun kissed skin which now glowed from the warm white light your LED’s were shining, the way they were so trained on the television, the way they interacted with each other. You couldn’t believe that earlier you had any doubts of the two not getting along once they’d met each other in person. If anything, they seemed like they’d already known each other their whole lives.

Once dinner was finished and another round of wine was shared, you took the dirty dishes in the kitchen and prepared to clean up what little mess was left from your cooking. Emerald watched your figure shrink away into the kitchen area, thinking of something.

“Hey, princess,” she calls to the other woman, who responds with a hum, as her lips were currently occupied with the red alcoholic beverage in her cup.

“You’re around here more, right? Cuz you go to the same college bae-bae does right?” Emerald asks, using her nickname for you. Shuri nods, confirming Emerald’s suspicions with another hum.

“So have y’all, like, fucked recently?”

The question takes Shuri off guard, but gets her to think as well. After a moment, the princess shakes her head. “I think the last time we were intimate was…a month ago?”

“Damn, a month?”

“Yes - but I believe she had a lot of important projects coming up for that one photography class of hers.”

“Hm. Interesting.”

Emerald peers over her shoulder to take a glance at you, still scrubbing away in the kitchen. Shuri follows her gaze, slowly catching on to what Emerald was insinuating.

“And you two? How long has it been, I mean?”

“Shit, probably like a month and a half. I been dealing with shit with my brother, but normally she goes crazy if she don’t get it, y’know?”

“Indeed, I do know. The longest we’ve ever gone without sex would have been two weeks. I was away at home, and when I came back…for lack of better words, she was quite feral.”

There’s another pause, and Shuri and Emerald share a look. 

“You don’t think…it was deliberate, her making us wait this long?”

“I think that she thinks shit is sweet, tryna play us like this.”

Emerald takes a swig of wine from her glass, swirling the red liquid inside. Then, abruptly, she stops. A lightbulb goes off in her head, and it’s evident by the smirk that grows on her lips. Shuri catches this, and has an idea of what Emerald’s mind is already concocting.

“What’re you planning, my gem?” Shuri questions with a knowing look, a crooked smile of anticipation gracing her lips.

“Just thinkin’...we should give her what she wants…” Emerald replies, placing her glass back on the coffee table, her smirk increasing, “...or not.”

Shuri’s eyebrows raise, though not with surprise; more out of anticipation…excitement. Admittedly, as soon as she had caught onto what Em was insinuating, she had felt that bud of excitement slowly unfurl in her stomach, only furthered by the attraction she had quickly grown towards Em and the attraction she already had for you. 

“Oh, we’ll give her something. Who knew our girl could be so schemeful?”

The sound of the sink turning off interrupts Em before she canspeak. They both hear you rummaging around, tidying up whatever you had used before presumably joining them. Em takes the chance to connect her gaze with Shuri’s, nodding subtly to the storage closet where they both had placed their bags…the bags that contained the items that would surely make you think twice about doing something like this again.

Shuri, her smile widening, stands and quietly makes her way over, opening it and grabbing both bags. Ever since she had seen Em walk in and deposit the bag in your storage, a small part of her had been constantly thinking about what could be in; now, her heart speeds up slightly at the thought of finding out soon enough.

The silence in the other room makes you pause, as only a few seconds ago you had heard their voices, slightly drowned out by the running water, but there nonetheless. Now…it was silent. Almost abruptly so.

You quickly wipe your hands on the nearest towel before turning and making your way back into the main room, your eyes instantly flickering between your two favorite women. The sight that you meet makes you pause in your tracks, your heart seeming to know what was going before you did as it speeds up slightly.

“Is everything okay?”

Shuri sets the bags her and Em brought on the ground, her gaze landing on you afterwards. There’s a knowing look in her eye paired with something you could only liken to the look she adopted whenever you did something that amused her or made her proud. Your body reacted on its own, the same ball of heat from earlier slowly gaining size where it rested in your core. Though, as soon as you turn your gaze to Em, that heat turns into something you can just barely contain.

Her eyes narrow as she gazes at you from her spot on the couch, the dark pools of brown harboring a look that you recognize immediately.

“You think you slick, don’t you?”.

The question paired with the smug tone in Em’s voice has your body clenching around nothing, the ball of eat moving to envelop your entire body. The next breath you take in is shaky as your eyes move to Shuri. She only cocks her head, her eyes appraising you from where she stood. 

“Em, baby, what are you talking about-”

Emerald sets her wine glass down with a sigh, leaning forward and pulling herself to the edge of her seat. Her eyes connect with yours with an intensity that’s so strong that it practically has you shaking as she motions for you to walk closer. It's so intense and so heady that you don’t realize you’re being surrounded until you feel a solid line of heat against your back, effectively trapping you in front of Em’s sitting form in front of you. 

A small gasp leaves your mouth as Shuri’s hands snake around your waist. One is pressed open-palmed against your stomach, holding you in place, while the other raises and presses right against the space beneath your breasts. Her hands are gentle, but firm enough to tell you that you aren’t going anywhere unless she lets you. Her hands don’t move an inch as she lowers her head, placing a kiss against the shell of your hair only to continue placing them down the length of your neck. Her actions make your eyes flutter slightly, every other breath of yours hitched and shaky.

“Don’t play that. You know exactly what we talkin’ about- tryna play us like we wouldn’t figure it out.” There's a hint of authority in Em’s tone as she speaks, and you’re no stranger to it, as you had heard it more than once. But if it isn’t her voice and her words that make the insides of your thighs slick with arousal, then its the way she suddenly grabs your hips and pulls you down, right onto the apex of her thigh. The feeling of her thigh against your clothed core is consuming enough to make you shiver, your hands raising and landing on her shoulder to give yourself more leverage. 

“Keeping us away from you…makin’ up those excuses ‘bout being busy…and then gettin’ us to come here?” Every sentence is emphasized by her hands rocking your hips with a precision that's almost deadly. With every rock, the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs brushes perfectly against hers, making you curse. 

“Thought you were doin’ somethin, huh?”

Shuri’s hands had shifted as you straddled Em’s leg, one raising to cup the underside of your jaw while the other slipped deftly under the cropped tank top adorning your top half. She cupped one of your bra-clad breasts, her thumb rubbing over the underside of it. The waves of pleasure emitting from your top and bottom half makes your eyes flutter until they close, your head falling back slightly to rest on Shuri’s chest.

“We’ll give you what you want, what you schemed so hard for…”

Shuri’s voice is almost raspy as she speaks into your ear, her lips brushing against your skin. The hand placed on your jaw reaches around until her slender fingers cover the expanse of your neck. Her hand presses into the diamond and vibranium encrusted necklace she had given you, the points of the panther claws digging slightly into your skin and only adding on another layer of pleasure. 

EM’s hands tighten, increasing the speed with which she maneuvers your hips until you’re panting slightly, your throat bobbing with each breath under Shuri’s hand. 

“But we’ll do it on our terms, now.”

Her sentence is almost close to a reprimand, making your eyes snap open right as Em’s hands stop, holding you in place. The pleasure that had been building quickly comes to a stand still, making a whine leave your mouth as you try rocking your hips once more. Em’s hands are unrelenting in their strength, not letting you move an inch as she stares up at you, a smirk slowly raising the corner of her mouth.

Any and all words you think of die on the tip of your tongue as Shuri’s hands pull you backwards, prompting you to stand on your feet once more. Your core throbbed as the pressure made by Em’s thigh disappeared.

Emerald watches as Shuri pulls you against her, one hand still on your neck while the other is placed on your hip. With a sound of frustration in your ear, Shuri quickly reaches for the cardigan hanging off your shoulders, pulling it until she all but rips it off your frame, and leaving you in the matching cotton shorts and cropped tank top.

“An entire month of nothing, and now you want to act shy. Why is that, usana? Hm?”

Emerald leans forward, blindly reaching for one of the bags that had been brought out, and the mere sight of her reaching in before pulling out the strap you had grown very comfortable with has your thighs clenching together and a whine crawling up your throat. It makes itself known as you breathlessly speak, 

“Please. I just wanted-”

“We know what you want.”

Her movements are quick as her fingers wrap beneath the necklace adorning your neck, tightening it slightly. Every coherent thought of yours flies out of the window as Shuri’s hand suddenly delves beneath the waistband of your shorts, cupping your clothed core. The sudden sensation makes you jump, your ass pressing firmly into the front of her body as you bend over slightly. 

“Shit-!” 

She doesn’t give you time to recover or even catch your breath before her fingers are moving in tight circles over your clit, her other arm pulling you up until your back is pressed against her chest.

The feeling of Shuri’s fingers working you over while the other gently squeezes your neck makes your eyes roll back in pleasure, a drawn out moan leaving your lips. Her arm across your chest is strong enough to keep you standing on your shaky legs, as with each pass of her skilled fingers across the most sensitive part of you makes it harder to function. 

It makes a tightness build in the pit of your stomach, one that only threatens to send out waves of pure pleasure and make you lose your bearings. One hand lands on her wrist where it disappears beneath your shorts, fingers wrapping around it while you soundlessly plead for her to keep going, while the other raises and grabs the back of her neck.

You can feel it building, the urge to let go and let Shuri’s hand alone work you through the orgasm cresting like a wave over your consciousness. Your mouth falls open and your breaths come quicker, pleas being mingled in with small cries…

And then Shuri wrenches her hand away, and the sound that leaves your mouth is borderline mournful as your orgasm is stopped abruptly. 

Maybe you should’ve thought more about your little scheme and what would happen if they found out. You had been banking on them both being too worked up after a month or so to punish you like this, but that was obviously a mistake. 

“Shuri, please…”

“You waited an entire month for this moment…I think you can wait a little longer.”

Her words make a whimper leave your mouth because…how much longer would you have to wait?

“Which one you want, princess?”

It's the sound of mischievousness and anticipation in Em’s honey smooth voice that makes your eyes snap open…and its the sight of the strap dangling from one hand while her go-to vibrator is in the other that makes your pussy clench around nothing. 

This is it, this is how you die.

Em had at some point taken off her shirt and her pants, leaving her in a sports bra and a pair of boxers that hugged her hips. You swallow hard as she walks towards you, the toys in her hands taunting you with how much pleasure and punishment they could bring. 

“I want something that’ll make her beg.”

Shuri’s words are emphasized by her hands turning you around before pushing you onto the couch, her and Em’s eyes appraising you as you lean back.

You wanted to tell them to hurry up and get on with it. You had been waiting for an entire month, albeit by your own willingness; but that entire month had been filled with you having to physically restrain yourself from jumping them whenever you saw them.

You weren’t in any position to make demands, though. You were completely and utterly at the mercy of both of your lovers…and it made you nervous and excited. 

“We gon make her beg, alright.”

Sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, you watch with hooded eyes as Em drops the vibrator in its protective case on the table. She wraps her arms around Shuri’s waist from behind, her eyes holding yours as she lowers her lips to press a lingering, open mouthed kiss to where Shuri’s neck and shoulder meet. 

Her hands spread Shuri’s legs slightly before hooking into the waistband of her sweatpants and pulling them down, all while continuing to press her lips against any skin she could reach. The sight of Shuri’s head falling back against Em’s shoulder, her strong jawline in perfect view as it clenches makes your hand act on its own accord. It slides down, running over your breasts and the tips of your hardened nipples before continuing its path to your leaking pussy. The warning in Em’s eyes makes your actions halt, your eyes instantly focusing on the sight of her hands skillfully wrapping the buckles around Shuri’s thighs before fastening them in the back. Her hand picks up a bottle that had been placed on the table, opening it and squeezing a generous amount of the lube into her hand.

“Look at her, ‘Ri.” 

Shuri’s eyes follow Em’s words, connecting with yours right as Em’s hand closes over the shaft of the silicone dildo hanging between Shuri’s legs. She glides her hand up and down the length of it as the corner of her lips curve into a smile you know all too well; one that says she knows exactly what's about to happen but you don’t. 

“Look how needy she is...after a month of playin, now she wanna act impatient.” 

It only takes a few steps for Em to step around Shuri and make her way around the couch you’re on, your eyes following her until they physically can’t anymore. You crane your neck to try and get a glimpse of where she disappeared behind you, but your attention is quickly pulled back when you feel your necklace being grabbed. 

Shuri’s eyes are hard when you look back, and she’s closer than she had been mere seconds ago. You rarely forget about the Black Panther’s abilities she had adopted, but her speed, agility, and endurance whenever you two fucked had always served as a good reminder. 

“Take these off before I rip them off.” Her hands fist into the material of the cotton shorts adorning your bottom half, and you eagerly and quickly move to follow her directions, knowing full well that she could. 

Your hips lift off of the couch and your hands scramble to pull them off, something you’ve been waiting to do ever since they both showed up, but your movements aren’t fast enough for the princess; that much is obvious in the way she growls before grabbing your hips, pulling them to the edge of the couch and quickly wrenching your shorts and underwear down. 

The startled yelp that leaves your mouth quickly turns into a gasp as the air hits your pussy, the slickness making the air colder than it is as Shuri pushes your legs further apart. The sound of your folds separating with a squelch has a hissed breath leaving Shuri’s mouth, her eyes focusing on the part of you that she loved to bury her face into; the part of you that fed her when she was thirsting for you and gave her life while simultaneously making her want to stay until she could no longer breathe. 

“How’s our girl looking, ‘Ri?”

Em’s question comes right before her hands abruptly pull your shirt up and reach beneath the cups of your bra, replacing them with her cold, firm hands. In a single motion, she has them spilling out, the straps of your bra falling down your shoulders. She rolls them in the palms of her hands, your back arching as her fingers tweak your nipples, rolling them between her fingers and gently pulling on them.

Shuri presses the pad of her thumb right onto your clit, the pressure making you jerk slightly. She drags it down between your folds, collecting the slick that’s gathered and just spreading it more, taking special care to spread it around your entrance. Your eyes threaten to close at her actions, your jaw becoming slack as heavy breaths leave your mouth; but you’re hellbent on watching everything they do to you. You had been waiting for this moment; you’d be damned if you didn't see everything.

Shuri’s voice is rough but proud as she answers Em’s question. She slows her motions, drawing out the sounds that come from her thumb swirling through your folds.

“She’s practically dripping, and its all for us.”

“And we not wasting a drop of it, are we?”

Instead of answering, Shuri separates her thumb from your clit before lifting it. Before she can get far, Em’s hand is reaching forward to grab it, lowering her head until she can wrap her lips around Shuri’s thumb. She’s positioned right over you, giving you the perfect view of how jaw works as she swirls her tongue around Shuri’s fingers, collecting every inch of your arousal she could. 

Em hums as she pulls back, the sound coming from low in her throat and shooting straight to your center. 

“Oh, we not wastin’ that.”

Shuri lets go of your necklace, but its only to grab the backs of your knees and hike them into the air. She places a knee on the edge of the couch, pushing your knees towards your ears and just about folding you in half. As if they had communicated without speaking, Em’s hands replaced Shuri’s, keeping your legs suspended.

Needless to say, your flexibility had improved greatly after fucking around with Emerald Haywood and Shuri.

The position has your pussy bared to Shuri in its entirety, clenching around nothing in anticipation for the slight burn of being stretched. 

Shuri’s eyes take it all in, dark and half lidded as if intoxicated from the sight, the smell, and the sound alone. 

“What's your safe word?”

You can barely get the word out, your breath trembling. Her question only tells you that what's about to happen to you may warrant a safe word. It isn’t surprising, as it was a regular occurrence for both of them to ask for your safe word in separate settings…but being reminded of it while being in the clutches of both Emerald and Shuri had you trembling. 

You have the nerve to think that she’ll continue even without you answering the question, but when her eyes, questioning and demanding at the same time, raise and meet yours…you know that it's in your better interest to answer.

“B-button.”

The word is barely out of your mouth before Shuri is wrapping a hand around the dildo and lining it up at your entrance, her eyes not straying from yours for a second. 

“You good, ‘bae?”

Em’s voice is soft as she whispers into your ear, placing a kiss on your earlobe where your kimoyo earring sits. She shifts so that the crook of her elbow holds your leg, freeing her hand and letting it go back to your breast. She firmly cups your breast in one hand, her fingers rubbing over your nipple slowly. You can only nod in silence, your lips parting and your breath leaving you quickly. Shuri’s eyes meet Em’s as she braces her hands against the back of the couch. 

A cry tears from your throat as Shuri snaps her hips forward, burying herself until the base of the strap brushes slightly against your skin. The burn is familiar, as well is the feeling of being stretched close to your breaking point…but it's welcomed.

There’s a slight burn in your legs as they start shaking already, but you don’t have to worry about them moving.

“Open your eyes, babygirl.”

“Look at me.”

Both Em and Shuri’s voices ring out at the same time and your eyes open, not wanting to disobey either one of them. You hadn’t even noticed that they had closed, too engrossed in the feeling of Shuri firmly situated between your walls while Em’s hands worked you over, adding a layer of pleasure that penetrated your entire consciousness.

Your lips move soundlessly, your breath being stolen by the waves of pleasure wracking your body and lighting every nerve of yours on fire. You want to beg Shuri to just move- you want to feel the length of her hitting every spot it could reach inside you…but she just stays still, buried fully inside of you. 

“Use your words, mamas.”

Emerald’s voice reminds you that you answer to both of them tonight, and its with great difficulty that you find your voice.

“I want you. Fuck, use me. Use me, use me-”

That was evidently all Shuri needed to hear. 

Her fingers close around the necklace she gifted you, pulling you forward just enough for you to have the perfect view of her disappearing into you before pulling out and slamming back in. Every stroke makes you jerk slightly, though you can’t go far due to both of their grips on you. 

The desperation and lust in your voice makes a quick breath leave Em, her own pussy throbbing slightly as she watches her princess drill into her babygirl. She can hear her own breaths, slightly louder than usual, as she quickly raises her fingers to her mouth, quickly swiping her tongue over them.

She only has to lean forward slightly to reach what she’s been wanting to touch all day. 

Your legs threaten to close as her fingers land on your clit, but Shuri’s hand grabbing your ankle stops that from happening. In doing so, it only allows her to hit a different angle…a different spot; one that has black spots entering your vision.

Incoherent words leave your mouth at the overstimulation that's quickly building, forming a ball of heat in your stomach. It’s almost too much, having that one spot hit over and over, relentlessly, while Em worships your clit with only her fingers. 

“Oooh, baby. I’m bout…I can’t. Em, please, I can’t hold it…”

Your words are slurred as your head lolls back. It lands in the crook of Em’s neck and she takes the chance to wrap her slender fingers around your jaw, tilting your head back more to where she can whisper directly into your ear. Her breath is hot as it brushes against your skin, and the small sensation makes another whine leave your throat.

“Yes, you can. Take it. Take it, babygirl.”

Her words only push you closer to the edge, making your moans rise in volume until…well, until you’re sure you’ll have to apologize to your neighbors in the morning. 

There are a multitude of sounds echoing through the space around you; the sound of Shuri’s thighs slapping against your ass, the soft squelching that comes from her strap entering your pussy, her heavy breaths that she emphasizes each stroke with, Em’s whispered words that alternated between demands and words of praise. 

Shuri can’t stop the sounds of pure lust from leaving her own lips as she drills into you. Her eyes rake down your body, lingering on the way your bare chest heaves and how the thin layer of sweat reflects the lights above you. They zero in on the way Em’s fingers rub relentlessly at your clit, slipping slightly because of how wet you are.

They zero in on how your hand lands on the back of Em’s neck, your acrylics digging slightly into her skin to hold her closer…and they zero in on the look of pure adoration, love, and lust in your half-lidded eyes as you look at her.

She can tell by the way you’re mumbling incoherently, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, that your orgasm is close to washing completely over you. While she loves to hear you whimper and plead for sweet release, knowing that she had you right under her thumb, she has to admit that the sight of you cumming is a sight that she’ll never grow tired of. Its the desire to see exactly that which makes her push your leg back further, opening you up even more and drilling almost impossibly deeper. 

“Shuri, ‘m bout to cum. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-”

“You gon cum? Hm?”

Em’s fingers speed up, enough to make your bottom half tremble with how fast her motions are. 

“Didn’t we say you have to beg for it?”

Shuri’s words don’t affect her motions at all; if anything, they only intensify. It makes the cry that had slowly been building in the base of your throat leave your mouth, hoarse and full of pleasure.

“Please! Please, can I cum- please, let me, I can’t-”

There are tears leaking from the corner of your eyes as they shut tightly, making you miss the look shared between Emerald and Shuri. 

Its easy for the both of them to share in a feeling of desire, as they both harbored a need to take care of you…and to fuck you so well you wouldn’t be able to remember your own name. 

They communicated silently, only talking to you after they both gave subtle nods to each other. 

“Let go. Let go, usana.”

Almost immediately, your orgasm washes over you, stealing your breath and making your body lock up. Your back arches off of the couch as your hand scrambles to grab something, eventually landing on Shuri’s wrist. It feels like it lasts for a few minutes, at least, and the entire time, you have to focus on not passing out. Its so intense that you can barely hear both Shuri and Em as they talk you through it. 

You can feel Shuri as she continues to slowly pump into you, every detail on the strap rubbing deliciously against your walls, and you can still feel Em as she slows her movements down, only slightly, as she continues rubbing at your overstimulated clit.

It’s only after your body sags against the couch once again, breaths heavy and hard to control, that they both stop their movements. Shuri slowly slides out of you, making a small noise leave your mouth at the empty feeling that follows. 

She lowers herself onto the couch beside you, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort or dissatisfaction only to find nothing but something she would liken to ecstasy. 

Em slowly brings her fingers to a stop, reveling in how slick they are, and reveling in the fact that it all belonged to you. She lets her wet fingers brush over any skin they come across as she drags her hand up your sweat covered body before gently lowering your legs . She uses the same hand to turn your face towards hers, your eyes fluttering as you tried to find her through your blurry vision.

“You good, ‘ma?”

You can only nod, an affirming tone escaping your throat. Ignoring the fact that your limbs are so heavy you can’t exactly move them yet and the realization that your legs will most definitely be nonfunctional tomorrow, you’d say that you were in a blissful state. 

“How is she?”

Your vision clears just enough for you to see the satisfied smile on Em’s face as she looks at you, and it makes a groggy, tired grin appear on your face. She leans in, connecting her lips with yours for a few seconds before pulling back and planting another kiss on your forehead.

“She’s good. A lil out of it…but she’s good.”

‘Out of it’ is probably an understatement.

A soft laugh leaves Shuri’s mouth as her hand fixes your necklace around your neck, her fingers running gently over the small marks the necklace made in your skin. The sensation makes your head loll to the side to find her eyes, and when you do, her smile widens.

“What do you need, usana?”

You were coherent enough to recognize both of their questions as the same ones they asked after fucking you separately. The realization that you really had the best of both worlds within this relationship made your grin widen and made your heart soar. 

“I’m okay. Just…stay here, both of you.” 

That was something they both were eager to do, and it was evident in their actions. Shuri reaches down, grabbing her discarded sweatshirt before helping you sit up and pull it over your body. Em stands, making her way to the bathroom and grabbing a washcloth on the way only to quickly come back with it soaked in warm water. 

She sits on the other side of you, taking notice of how quickly Shuri had unfastened the strap and set it to the side. The princess looks up and at Em, a fond and loving look on her face that’s undoubtedly a result of seeing the dopey smile on your face. Em shakes her head in amusement as she lowers herself onto the couch before using the wash cloth and cleaning between your legs. The feeling makes you jump slightly as it brushes against your sensitive bundle of nerves, Em gently reassuring you that she’s basically done before she even started.

The wash cloth is set somewhere, but you can only focus on the feeling of pure relaxation that's taking over your limbs, making a small yawn escape your mouth and your eyes close. 

Your limbs are maneuvered by two sets of hands until you’re laying on someone’s chest, your body pressing along the line of theirs with their arm around your shoulders. The light scent of sage and lavender tells you that you’re laying on top of Shuri, and you look forward to the feeling of Em joining you, but a few seconds pass without that happening. 

“How the hell we all gon fit on this couch?”

“We’ll figure it out. Come, my gem. You know you want to join.”

There’s a teasing tone in Shuri’s voice as she addresses Em, and you can feel one of her arms lift to presumably beckon her closer. Without even lifting your head, you reach out blindly until you grab onto her hand. You pull until her legs hit the couch, and only then do you scoot until you’re pressed against the back of the couch, making room for her to join.

“If I fall, I’m gettin on both of y’all’s asses.”

Your lips curve into a smile at her words and at the feeling of the couch dipping further. An arm is thrown around your waist, and the feeling of comfort intensifies as you’re embraced by the two people who hold your heart between them. 

Shuri loves the early morning sunrise that your studio apartment gets in the morning. The floor to ceiling windows does wonders for allowing natural lighting into your space, and she’s found herself sitting in the space right in front of the clear glass, where the wooden floor of the main room meets the little one-two steps that lead into the tiled kitchen area. It’s where the light shines the brightest, where the heat of the suns beams is strongest. 

Shuri communes with herself here, whenever she visits you. Early in the morning while you're still fast asleep, curled in your blankets and pillows just like you were now, Shuri takes the time to sneak away into the warm little spot on the floor, to meditate, to ground herself, to just think.

But sometimes, Shuri thinks too much.

She thinks of everything, and she thinks of nothing. Millions of thoughts plague her mind every day and every night, even protruding into her dreams, on the rare occasions she does have. It’s only in your arms that the thoughts quiet down, and the voices are held at bay, but they aren’t kept away for long. Because at some point, she’ll have to face them again, and they will consume her, and you aren’t always in her corner when she needs you to take them away.

So, she’s learned to sit with them. Let them overwhelm her brain like static. Eventually, they calm down, and she can breathe again. And it's mornings like these, where she sits in the glow of the morning sun, where the thoughts aren’t so loud, and Shuri’s mind is at ease, that she enjoys the most.

“What’chu doin’ up this early, princess?”

Her voice comes first - rich, smooth, slightly raspy from sleep, and for a moment. It’s addictive, especially now that she’s had the pleasure of hearing it in person, and not from her holographic screen next to her bed from the three of you falling asleep on call together.

Then, comes the gentle touch of her hand - short french-tipped nails brush against Shuri’s cheek and the warmth of her open palm causes the princess’s head to lean into it. She stands behind Shuri, and it takes all of her to not lean back into the other woman’s legs.

“Nothing, my gem,” Shuri assures Emerald, as she opens her eyes, greeted by the reflection of her lover caressing her face lovingly, “just thinking.”

Emerald is a sight to see in the morning. Sweats that hang dangerously low on her hips revealing the band of her boxers that are snug on her pelvis, and a loose cropped shirt that hangs off one shoulder. Her hair hangs low, curls obscuring her eyes, and it only makes her look more tempting to the princess.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout what?” Emerald asks, moving to take a seat next to you, her body pointed to Shuri’s, which faces the window.

The princess shrugs, not really knowing the answer herself. “I don’t know, really.”

“Do you think a lot?”

“Unfortunately.”

Emerald hums in response, her hand still resting on Shuri’s cheek. “What about?”

“A lot of things,” Shuri answers, “a lot of things that would certainly overwhelm you, or (Y/N).”

“So, princess things?”

“Princess things…and then some.”

A soft chuckle escapes both of their lips, with a smile that stays on Emerald’s as she takes in Shuri’s appearance. She still had on the same sweatpants as yesterday, as well as the sports bra, but the sight couldn’t be any more delicious to the dark skinned woman. It didn’t help that her eyes were half-lidden and her curls were a mess, a sure sign that the princess was still riddled with sleep.

“I don’t like thinking sometimes,” Shuri mutters after a moment. Emerald hums once more, urging her to continue.

“It’s too much to think, sometimes. People expect me to, though. To think, to have all the answers. I do- well, not all the answers to everything, but I do get answers. But I also get overwhelmed. Sometimes…I wish someone else could do the thinking for a while. Let my brain get quiet for a bit. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have to think, but I’m sure, compared to now, it was pleasant.”

Shuri mumbles on, and Emerald takes into account her body language as she speaks - she’s relaxed, but still slightly rigid. She can see it in the way Shuri’s stomach is tense, possibly with anxiousness. Emerald understands why, even though she jokes about it often; she knows the job of a royal isn’t easy, especially for Shuri. She think’s for everyone and has no outlet of her own to turn to.

“You don’t wanna think for a while, right?”

Shuri pauses for a moment, before nodding her head ‘yes’ in response.

“I can make that happen for you, princess.”

Before Shuri has a chance to question Emerald’s statement, she feels her other hand gliding against her midsection in a soothing, almost sultry motion. The low octave of which she spoke made warmth pool into Shuri’s stomach, into her core. Chocolate brown irises bore into each other deeply, tempting each other to lean in.

“I can help you stop thinkin’, is that what you want, baby?”

Shuri nods, this time her reaction is almost immediate. Emerald leans in and captures Shuri’s lips in a breathtaking kiss. It soon turns passionate; Emerald is on Shuri’s lap, and the princess’s grip on her hips is deadly as she whines into the kiss, heat pooling into Shuri's core, begging for attention.

Once the need for oxygen becomes too great, Emerald is the first to pull away, lips swollen and chest heaving from the intensity of the kiss. She stands, pulling Shuri up with her, and places a quick kiss onto the princess’s lips while tugging at her bottoms.

“Bed. Now.” Emerald demands. “And take these off, too. I’ma be right back.”

Shuri is quick to follow instructions - as Emerald goes to retrieve her strap from her bag in the storage closet, Shuri makes quick work at discarding her clothes and takes back her place on the bed, of which the three of you had retreated to at some point during the night after your previous lovemaking session.

It’s only when she’s back on the bed that she remembers your presence there, too, her eyebrows furrowed together. Although you were a deep sleeper, and can - and have - slept through violent storms and countless other loud actions, was Emerald seriously about to fuck her right next to you?

Out of her peripheral, Shuri sees Emerald return, her sweats discarded and now replaced with the boxer briefs needed for her strap. She makes a trek for the coffee table, grabbing the vibrator case that was discarded there the night prior, and from it, she produces one of the two vibrators from the set. A tiny bullet vibrator, and the sight of it alone forces Shuri to swallow the whine she desperately wants to emit, while she can feel her pussy leaking with anticipation.

Emerald climbs onto the bed, her presence demanding Shuri’s attention, knowing what the princess beneath her is thinking.

“Don’t think ‘bout her,” Emerald says, referencing your sleeping figure, your back turned to them as you snoozed soundly, deep in slumber, “don’t think, baby, just feel, can you do that for me?”

Fuck, Emerald is too good at this. Too good at taking command, too good at picking apart Shuri’s mind.

“Need you to let me in that pretty head of yours, princess. Let me take control,” Emerald leans down onto Shuri’s body, leaving kisses from her lips, trailing down her jawline, into the dip of her neck. It leaves the princess breathless, so much so that she doesn’t even hear when Emerald activates the vibrator.

“You gon’ let me in there, Princess?”

Shuri nods eagerly, but it’s nothing compared to the gasp that leaves her lips when Emerald presses the tiny bullet right onto Shuri’s dripping heat, the unholy noises that come from the vibrations and her slick meeting. The metal of the device is cold at first, but with Emerald’s skillful hands circling the device around Shuri’s clit in agonizingly slow motions, it’s not long before Shuri’s brain becomes muddled and weak.

“Fuck, fuck, Em, please…” Shuri whines when the device is place right onto her clit, which is only encouragement for the other woman to continue. There’s a slight tremble in Shuri’s legs already, and it gets Emerald excited.

“Princess is already goin’ dumb,” she hums affectionately right into Shuri’s ear, and the statement awakens something deep within her that she wasn’t aware was even present, “goin’ dumb over a lil’ vibe?”

Shuri’s ability to speak was stripped from her with Em’s words, even more so when she slipped a digit in between her seeping folds. A silent moan left Shuri’s lips at the added pressure, her head began shifting from side to side, overwhelmed from the littlest of contact.

Emerald pressed soothing kisses onto Shuri’s neck while her digit pumped in and out of Shuri’s folds, a gasp of her own slipping past her lips once she actually got a feel for how wet the princess was. Shuri’s pussy was practically sopping with slick, making her in and out motions seem effortless. There was so much, she was surprised her entire hand wasn’t covered with it. It was too tempting - Emerald had to have a taste.

Shuri’s eyes were closed, too caught up in the feeling of pleasure. The sudden absence of Emerald’s face in her neck made the princess whine, but it was soon replaced with a silent scream when the vibrator that had been abusing her clit for the past few minutes was removed, and replaced with Emerald’s tongue.

“Oh, fuck, n-no, Em, please-” but it was too late. The vibrator deactivated and discarded, Emerald’s now free hand went to place itself on top of Shuri’s abdomen, steadying the princess’s desperate attempts at shying away, but Emerald wasn’t having it. She added another digit, picked up the pace, and started curling her fingers inside Shuri’s velvety walls, trying to pinpoint the spot that would have her legs trembling. And when Emerald did find it, and started brushing it mercilessly while her tongue did wonders on Shuri’s clit, the princess couldn’t control the volume of her voice anymore.

“Em, em, I’m cumming-” Shuri whines, her eyes beginning to swell with tears of overwhelming pleasure, “please- please, I can’t- oh, Bast, I’m cumming, I’m cumming-!”

Emerald’s assault on Shuri’s pussy remained ruthless as the princess rode out her high, the blinding pleasure being taken out on the poor sheets and Emerald’s poor curls, but the sting only edged Emerald on further. It took everything in Shuri to not let the Black Panther strength overtake her as her legs closed around Emerald’s head, tremors racking through her limbs in waves. IT’s only when Shuri is coming down that Emerald’s actions begin to slow to a halt.

Emerald lifts her head to see Shuri, spent and breathless, her chest heaving from the intensity of her climax. She’s so effortlessly beautiful, it drives Emerald insane. She slowly pulls her fingers from Shuri’s fluttering core, making the princess’s legs close once again and her core clench around nothing. The lack of presence inside of her makes her whine, but Emerald has plans to fix that soon.

When Shuri opens her eyes once again, the sight before has the slick between her legs pooling once again. Emerald has brung the fingers which were previously buried deep inside of her to her lips, relishing in Shuri’s delectable taste. It’s a sight that has Shuri’s head falling back onto the pillow, desperate for Emerald’s touch once again.

Said woman climbs her way back up to Shuri’s face, taking care to glance at your figure to make sure you were still sleeping. Once your figure is confirmed to be still fast asleep, Emerald plants a series of kisses onto Shuri’s lips, of which the princess returns just as eagerly. “You good, princess?”

Shuri is too breathless to speak, so all that comes out in response is a nod and a short whine, which makes Emerald chuckle. “Got you so dumb, can’t even speak.”

Her words have an intense heat creep up Shuri’s neck, because she knew part of it was true. “That’s fine. I’ll just learn your body instead.”

Shuri jumps when the tip of the cool silicone brushes against her sensitive clit, another whine emitting from her lips. She’s about to question when did Emerald have time to slip the strap into place in her boxers, but the other woman is already a step ahead of her. She’s stroking Shuri’s thighs as she gets them into position, helping the princess relax, even though the events of her previous orgasm are still present in the light trembles that run through Shuri’s legs.

“Hold ‘em back for me baby,” it’s so embarrassing, but Shuri complies, holding the back of her knees in the crevice of her elbow, bearing her sopping wet heat to Emerald, and she all but gasps at the sight of such a pretty pussy on display just for her. It’s nothing compared to the pictures and videos she was blessed with until now, and Emerald takes her time drinking in the sight. Though it’s not long before Shuri gets needy again, and Emerald has to shush the princess with promises of taking care of her soon enough.

“Need you to do somethin’ for me, princess,” Emerald says, as she aligns the strap to Shuri’s entrance, lubricating the silicone with the other woman’s cum and slick, “Need you to focus on my strap, okay? Don’t think ‘bout nothin’ else, you hear me?”

Emerald’s hand rubs soothing strokes along Shuri’s inner thigh; the princess nods with a hum, but it’s not enough for Emerald this time. “Use your words for me, baby.”

“I will,” Shuri chokes out, “I’ll focus on the- oohh my god-!”

In the midst of Shuri’s response, Emerald pressed the silicone strap between Shuri’s folds, and she and Shuri watch as it disappears into the princess. Shuri wants to shout, scream, but nothing comes out of her throat, so she’s left in a silent scream as the overwhelming feeling of being filled by Emerald consumes her entire being.

Emerald buries herself to the base, her stomach brushing ever so gently against Shuri’s sensitive clit, and it makes the princess jerk and the strap inside of her to move ever so slightly, and Shuri is seeing stars.

She feels it, everything in its entirety. The veins that run the length of Emerald’s strap, the tip of it that is oh so close to brushing against that spongy spot of pleasure. And she’s full, so incredibly full and stuffed that there’s nothing else her mind can even begin to think about. Her brain has been emptied of everything else, and the only thing in it is Emerald, and how deliciously she's filling her.

Shuri can’t speak, and Emerald doesn’t force her to. Instead, she takes note of Shuri’s body language, allowing that to be her guide on how to proceed. Once Shuri has calmed down from the overwhelming sensation, and she begins to release noises of desperation, Emerald begins to move.

Her pace is slow and steady, but even so, it has Shuri belting out mewls of pleasure, incoherent babbles spewing from her lips, and it’s here that Emerald confirms she has officially made Shuri dumb for her dick, and the thought alone boosts her ego to incredible heights.

Though Emerald is enraptured by the pants and moans that are spilling out from Shuri’s lips, she can’t help but notice that there’s another spill of them, and when she turns to check on your supposedly sleeping figure, she finds you, in fact, not sleeping, but very much caught up in your own pleasure, with one hand fondling your breast, and the other rubbing circles into your own clit.

It causes her to chuckle, seeing you so easily worked up out of your sleep, and while she maintains her long, languid strokes into Shuri, she reaches over to you, surprising you when her two digits slip right into your slippery heat with ease. 

Soon you and Shuri are moaning messes, so close to coming undone together, when Emerald has the best idea she’s ever had in her life.

“Shuri, baby, open your eyes for me,” and Shuri obliges, being met with the delicious sight of Emerald looking down at her with so much love and desire, and in following down her outstretched arm, she sees you, utterly lost on Emerald’s fingers pumping in and out of you as well.

“Can my princess come pleasure my babygirl? While I fuck you from behind? Can you do that for me?”

Emerald doesn’t even have to ask, because the minute she retracts her strap and her hands from both you and Shuri’s core, the princess makes quick work to settle herself between your legs, immediately dipping down to lick and suck at your clit, and you release a desperate, “Haaa, fuck, please…-!” when Shuri’s long fingers slip into your core to replace Emerald’s.

Not a moment passes before Emerald is right behind Shuri, once again aligning herself with the other woman's entrance, and Shuri releases a long, drawn out, “Fuuucckk,” when Emerald slips back inside of her with ease. She picks up her pace, her strokes causing the princess to jerk forward with every thrust, which in turn causes delicious friction against your clit as Shuri’s tongue laps and sucks as it with hunger. Heavy moans and high-pitched whines fill the tiny yet luxurious studio apartment, and as Shuri was still reeling from her last orgasm, it’s only natural that she’s also the first to feel the knot in her stomach tightening once again.

“Shuri, Shuri please, I wanna cum…!” you beg, which only insights her own spiel of whimpering for release, “fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, Em, I’m cumming again!” 

And Emerald would be lying if she said she wasn’t feeling one coming for herself, too, because delivering these back shots to Shuri had the edge of the base of the strap brushing against her own clit just right in these boxers. She couldn’t hold out for long. None of them could.

“You gon’ cum for me, princess?” Emerald slurs, and Shuri’s hums of response in such a beautiful, lust filled voice has the dark skinned woman drunk, desperate to hear more. “You gonna make babygirl cum, too?”

“Pleeaaseee, wanna cum, wanna cum so bad, please!” Your squeal of desperation doesn’t go unnoticed by either woman, and it’s Emerald’s whispers of praise - ‘make us cum, princess’, ‘you’re doin’ so good, baby’, ‘fuck, you makin’ me feel that shit, baby’ - that drive Shuri over the edge.

Shuri cums once more, no, she squirts this time, her orgasm spraying all across the sheets and Emerald’s bottom half. You’re soon to follow, releasing right into Shuri’s mouth, and the princess drinks every last of your release. And Emerald is the last, her strokes becoming uncoordinated and unsteady as a sign of her impending climax, and it’s with one last thrust that she stills inside of Shuri, allowing herself to be overwhelmed by the intensity of her own orgasm.

It takes a moment, but all three of you collapse back onto your respective places on the bed - Shuri in the middle, you on the right, and Emerald on the left, closest to the wall. In synchronized heaving and shared glances of love and adoration for one another, a smile graces on each of your faces.

“Well, if I ain’t know any better, I’d say this is a great morning,” hums Emerald, who is the first to recover. You and Shuri, still spent - Shuri more so, as she endured not one, but two earth shattering orgasms - release breathless laughs of agreement to the dark skinned woman.

“Goodmorning, my love,” Shuri hums, “and yes, great morning, my gem.”

“G’morning…” you yawn.

And what a good morning it was.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see!! And don't be shy to send in a request!

[livstarlight]

Wakanda Forever is really the culmination of everything about a storytelling project I could love. Emotion, complexity, thought, reflection, self-grow.

We have the clash between two extraordinary cultures that the moment they dare to venture outside their borders are constantly challenged and pressed, and that costant pression puts them against each other when in reality they are more similar than you could ever think. But the world has dictated they shouldn’t be allowed to thrive, to be themselves, and that puts them even more at odds. Until they start seeing how the things that connect them are more than what separate them.

Every character has its own role and arc, with light and dark at the same time, but there are these two... who are so amazing they aren't just product of their people. They are so different, but so viscerally similar and connected by circumstances and experiences, even if they elaborate them in a very different manner, who might as well be mirrors of each other. The good and the bad. And the way they manage to balance being a beacon of their own cultures and their own characters with all that computes... strenghts and struggles... Wow. It's so well done it’s incredible, breathtaking, ENORMOUS. (Ryan Coogler you fucking genius)

But at the center of everything this is a movie which revolves around grief, about who we are in the end, how everything affects our life and how we grow from and with it. It's a story with a heart so big it trascends.

How. How could I not love everything about this story. How could I not spend every hour, minute, moment of the day to think about it. Relish in it. And talk about it non-stop to everyone willing (and not) to listen.

[maxwell-grant]

You’ll prob wait to answer this after Caped Crusader drops, but: Does making Penguin NOT a white guy drastically change the character? And if so, is that a good thing?

Anonymous asked: So... Thoughts on Oswalda from Batman: The Caped Crusader?

@jcogginsa asked: New Batman show is out, and with it is a new Penguin. Have any thoughts on Minnie Driver's take on the Penguin?

Regarding the first ask, I mean, it really ought to, right? That seems to be part of the point of doing this kind of thing, to change or recontextualize something big and important about a character in a new light. If it wasn't supposed to be some kind of big change, if it wasn't meant to at least be something new or say something slightly different, I'd ask what would be the point of doing it. Don't get me wrong, it's absolutely a thing to do just for fun / variety's sake, but it's not a choice that can just exist in a vacuum, it does matter how and why exactly you're doing it.

There's a couple of things that I'd say make or break this kind of stuff for me, besides like, you know, not removing existing meaningful elements of characters identities, like making Jewish or Romani characters generic caucasian Americans, real basic decency stuff y'know, not a lot to ask here. I think a change like this should at least bring questions to strengthen it, like: If this character is defined by certain traits or saying certain things, how is this interacting with those? Is this strengthening those existing traits and statements, is it providing new ones, or is it weakening them without offering much in return? Questions about how much can you redefine a character and still have that character be recognizable and all that, and of course the actual important questions of, Who is this for? What is being said here? Why was this decision made? And so on.

The example that comes to mind regarding that specificity, and how that can work wonders to breathe new life onto a character, is the MCU take on Namor, as Ritesh Babu elaborated on in a Patreon article

The reason I say I never truly cared for Namor is that while I thought him a great, compelling character in plenty of works I loved, I always felt a lack of emotional connection. He was enjoyable, but I didn't care about him, y'know? There was a connect. Watching Ryan Coogler's Wakanda Forever helped me bridge that disconnect. I finally realized what had been missing for me. It was Emotional Context.

Namor is historically an abrasive character. He's an angry character. He's got fury and rage, and he doesn't suffer fools. He's headstrong and unrelenting. He's an unyielding force. And he's great and fun that way, historically handled by mostly White writers (with rare exceptions, such as Greg Pak). But it was also, for me, an anger and rage and fury framed and constructed in such a way that it could be broad-strokes. It could be anything and everything from the pollution and climate ruination to perhaps some other tragic thing involving someone he cared about.

Ryan Coogler and Tenoch Huerta to me granted the character an emotional context here that clarifies everything he is, and all that shapes his thought. He's not angry at the surface world and its clownshit in abstract. It's not just the anger of a distant warrior-king of the oceans. It's the anger of the colonized, of the Othered.

What Ryan Coogler and Tenoch Huerta did is give him specificity. He's not just a broad-strokes figure in White hands, for White writers to write as an archetypal broad-strokes morally murky angry bastard guy. No, there's a specific history to this guy, there's a cultural specificity and context to his very existence.

And so Namor isn't some weird racially ambiguous/sorta white figure in largely White hands, but is instead an Indigenous Mexican hero and legend. He's a Mesoamerican figure and he's Mayan.

Coogler dispenses with the vagueries and broad-strokes thinking of the comics, and like any interesting creator should, asks good, rational questions. And that specificity, that's really what makes it for me. That's what I was missing. This is an attempt at using genre to speak to truth, to realities and real experiences, which are important to Black and Brown people. It's a far cry from some abstracted away thing to serve a primary White audience and its sensibilities or interests. - Ryan Coogler's Namor and Specificity

An example I'll give, as far as one reinvention that can make sense but I didn't find so interesting: The conception of Deadshot I like, from Suicide Squad (1987) and bits of Secret Six, is heavily informed by him being a privileged rich white man, a morally catatonic and emotionally rotten self-serving piece of shit in large part because of his privileged background and experiences, as well as a guy who's purposefully evoking the image of white western cowboys and providing commentary on their archetype. Deadshot, to me, is heavily informed by his whiteness, by his American elite background, and by his toxic masculinity, and thus the cocktail of what Deadshot is, comments on and speaks to comprises specific things that I think you'd have to approach very very differently if Floyd Lawton is a black man. I think the specificity of what that character is saying or tends to stand for is lost in adaptations that fudge those elements to make him more like the Will Smith version - you can definitely have another kind of meaningful and cool take on Deadshot, but it's a Deadshot who's gonna have to be saying different things, if he is to be saying anything at all - and most of the time, he isn't, and so to me, that context behind Deadshot is lost with not a lot gained in return. Under no circumstances does this mean you shouldn't be allowed to do it, but I feel like if you're dedicated to doing this to an existing character, there should be at least some commitment to what they are and do.

Getting back to that first question, it also really depends on what exactly are you changing. Like regarding the Penguin specifically, is it his race? His gender? His nationality? It's a very broad question to apply a single Yes or No to so I'm gonna say it's kind of both. On one hand, obviously some major aspects of his presentation and origin and defining traits would have to be altered to better correspond to that defining change. On the other hand, he is already extensively defined around his issues with his self-image and his surroundings and how people treat him, a person who is ostracized and Othered because of his looks or his background and where he stands in the city he grows up in. One of the consistent cornerstones of Oswald as a character is that he's trying extremely hard to overcompensate in wealth and class and power partially to override the ability of others to marginalize him over his weight or stature or poverty or disability and so on, in no small part that's what allowed him to take on protagonist status in recent years. If he was just a regular white guy, he'd be Rupert Thorne. Although, on the other other hand, I must stress here that treating marginalized traits as if they are equally interchangeable is how you get the X-Men school of representation, and we simply have do better than that.

I was very intrigued by the idea of turning Oswald into a woman. Fat men are very often shamed and ridiculed due to traits they are perceived to have in common with women, to be a fat man is to be dehumanized and stripped of masculinity and thus stripped of your worth of as man. To be accepted, fat men are forced to overperform masculinity just as fat women are forced to overperform femininity, and that element of overperformance is never not present in Oswald Cobblepot, who essentially lives in drag 24/7. A genderbend take on Oswald could certainly add a whole different meaning to his typical overreaction to jokes about his weight or looks, things that are commonly played as a joke. Fat women get consistently treated like absolute garbage by most people in ways that are different, more pervasive and frankly nastier than the ways fat men are also treated like garbage, and if people didn't treat him like garbage, The Penguin wouldn't be the person they are.

Penguin as a woman is a concept that could force a lot of his traits to demand renewed consideration, and in some ways you could argue he kinda already is feminized. He certainly doesn't get treated as a man the way Batman and the Joker and Bane and Gordon are. He overcompensates extremely hard in that regard, and it doesn't stick, he can act as tough and grizzled as he wants and he will never not be "the fat one", will never not get pushed around by the real man in Gotham, will never not be the unfit and bloated and squishy lesser-man hiding behind the umbrella because, why, he's not man enough to grit his teeth and hash it out with his fists. If we go back to Count Fosco from The Woman in White, we'll find this is something else they share in common:

"Fat as he is, and old as he is, his movements are astonishingly light and easy. He is as noiseless in a room as any of us women. With all his look of unmistakable mental firmness and power, he is as nervously sensitive as the weakest of us. He starts at chance noises as inveterately as Laura herself."

This passage holds the key to Marian’s complex attitude toward the Count; she is at once fascinated and threatened by him. As Marian’s description reveals, he is both alluring and dangerous, not merely because of his increasingly suspicious behavior throughout the narrative, but because he unnaturally exhibits the qualities of both sexes.

Even though Marian does not explicitly identify the Count’s androgyny as the reason for her discomfort with him, the novel’s keen preoccupation with identifying unknown figures by their sex illuminates the anxiety underlying Marian’s description of the Count. The Count complicates those binary categories, and, in true Victorian fashion, his deviance attracts simultaneous fascination and repulsion - Count Fosco and the Androgynous Mystique

He is Oswald Cobblepot, the pathetic little momma's boy, because even his personal tragedies are depicted as lesser, insignificant, not the right kind of cool cinematic masculine tragedy, and he is The Penguin, the eccentric oddly enthusiastic about worthless little things like his favorite animals and trinkets - things that the narrative deems worthless because Oswald is worthless in the literal term: he is worth less than Bruce Wayne, less than Batman, and we watch him as he fights tooth and nail to deny this, whether it's by beating Batman his own way or seeking power to avert his lot in life and stand above all the men that have put him down, or even just seeking villainy as a form of self-actualization, through that perseverance and ability to outmaneuver men so much bigger and scarier, who think they can nail the Penguin while their world is swiped from under them.

It's not for nothing that, in terms of where they stand in Batman's world nowadays, Penguin is practically sharing an apartment with Catwoman and the Riddler, the other 60s camp queens who won't leave banding together even when they can't stand each other. So, yeah, I was extremely curious as to what direction Caped Crusader was gonna lean into with the idea. Could it go wrong and be offensive garbage? Obviously, but I also thought it promised an intriguing new direction, of context that could add or rework so much about his existing traits. I didn't like the name Oswalda, no, but even besides all that I mentioned above, with The Penguin show coming out with it's new take on the character that's all about modernizing and grounding and twisting him around, I thought going big on Classic Penguin, with the top hat and monocle and sword-umbrella and existing in a Golden Age Gotham, and doing a genderflip, was a very solid idea to place opposite of it. So how did I feel about Oswalda Cobblepot?

...It sucked, guys, I'm sorry, I'm really not happy to say it. Caped Crusader's first episode was ASS, and 6 episodes in, while the rest of it has been better (not great, but tolerable, occasionally good even), that pilot was the most stone-faced I've ever been sitting through a Batman thing and frankly I don't even have anything to say about regarding Oswalda. There were tentative beginnings of a take but not actually anything that rounds out into one (and frankly I'd say this Harley Quinn also has that problem to a lesser degree, this show so far has been just really barebones across the board), and frankly I'm not asking for much, I've lived off breadcrumbs before when it comes to Penguin, I'd be good with something if there was something. She isn't remotely a threat to Batman and seems pretty damn dumb, and she gets dealt with on the pilot to make way for Rupert Thorne in a way that kinda really betrays the escalation theme they're shooting for here and it's, guys what else am I supposed to talk about here, seriously?

I don't even like the design that much, it feels like they started from Penguin's head and shoulders and then tried as hard as possible to cinch her waist and slim her down leaving a weird disproportion between her upper body and legs, it looks weird in some shots but I guess you could say that's just the animation being, uh, sub-par to be polite. I guess I like her ruthlessness and that scene where she murders one of her sons, even though that's her being really stupid not noticing the obvious snitch in the room, and it's more so because that was the only moment in the episode where something almost cool happened. I do like her being a cabaret singer, but, man she sounds way too boring for a character with such a distinct way of speaking, if she didn't look like the Penguin from the shoulders up you would never tell that's who this was supposed to be.

I'm sorry that she continues Penguin's bad streak from BTAS, man what a bummer. Still, I have been really enjoying The Batman Audio Adventures lately, it's not like I'm starved for a more classically flavored take on Penguin, so it's only a bummer. I'm open to the idea that she can come back in a later season for a better showing, and she was far from the worst thing about the episode, in fact by process of elimination she was overall the best, but she was the one part I had the most slight hopes for. Oh well.

[talokanda-forever]

I am SO very proud of my people.

Yeah, this is long but these thoughts hit me hard this morning and I gotta let it out.

Angela Bassett did it. When I first saw the throne room scene where she stripped Okoye of her titles, I knew she was giving us an award-winning performance. Some will see this end result of her claiming her Golden Globe as black excellence...and it is. But black excellence is displayed by the hard work and commitment that began 2+ years ago when a heartbroken cast and crew worked through the devastation of losing Chadwick. That is who my people are...we persevere. The excellence is in creators and artists who dig deep to build worlds that ring true on the screen. So that those communities who are starving for true representation can take pride in what they are consuming; instead of feeding us the same old caricatures that some think should satisfy the call for inclusion and representation.

I think about the brilliance of Ryan Coogler. How he puts in the work, how he listens, how he INCORPORATES the feedback he receives, how he is a true CO-LLAB-O-RA-TOR. He didn't create the Talokanil salute, others did. But some would have brushed it aside because it wasn't their idea. He listened when Tenoch told him he didn't look Mayan and took the time to incorporate Tenoch's heritage into his script (we need that extended cut, y'all!). And I think about how during the filming of this very production, Ryan was subjected to racial profiling when he attempted to withdraw money from his own bank account. Cops called out and handcuffed (don’t get me started). Still, they continued. Through a pandemic, they stayed on course. Through Letitia's injury, they plowed through. THAT IS BLACK EXCELLENCE AND THAT IS WHAT WE DO.

Movies like this hit different for POC... they just do. On some level, they go beyond entertainment for us. Someone who has not suffered the exhaustion of getting beat up by society just for existing may not understand. It is a fucking breath of fresh air to look up at the screen and see cultures that have been shit upon--and in some cases exterminated--presented with the utmost respect. We hold them high as banners of pride. We don't want to go to the movies only to get beat up again by images that only denegrate vs uplifting our people.

I love the MCU. I've been there since the first available screening of IRON MAN. Can't tell you how many midnight showings I've attended. I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel a little (ok, a lot) more special that the first major acting award for an MCU film was from the BLACK PANTHER franchise.

Wakanda Forever! Líik'ik Talokan!

[talkingparrotkee]

After seeing disagreeable claims critiquing the end of Wakanda Forever float around for the nth time, I felt like organizing my qualms and putting them neatly into another blog. These are just my musings.

"Shuri should've killed Namor! Sparing him was wrong!" I apologize for my harsh phrasing, but this is a horrible and brainless take, especially when it's from begrudged shippers or anti-Wakanda Forever recasters 😭. Whenever I see it, I can't help but wonder if anyone who says this or agrees genuinely likes and (especially) understands Namor and/or Shuri's actual characters. And no, I do not mean the surface aesthetic of or attraction to them.

If you knew and understood what kind of character Shuri (at least in the MCU) is, you would know why she spared Namor's life after nearly taking it. If you understood the important messages carefully baked into the film, you'd understand the writing choice of Shuri sparing Namor and Namor not being the "incorrigible villain who deserves death."

Asking the silly question of why she didn't kill him in the form of critique, or worse, saying she should have or somehow should give him hell after the fact (fortunately, a regressive immaturity neither character has), is a clear show of media illiteracy. It neglects both characters and at least one pillar theme of Wakanda Forever. If Shuri killed Namor, Talokan and Wakanda would unnaturally be eating away at each other for eternity, allowing the surface colonist nations to swoop in as the destabilization process was done for them. The true villains and enemies that put them in that situation where they collided with one another would gain access to their vibranium and technology. Game over.

Shuri Was Never In Her "Villain Era"

The simple answer, Shuri is not Wanda Maximoff 😊. Goodnight. (Author's note because someone was troubled by this tongue and cheek remark: I don't hate Wanda at all. I meant what I wrote: Shuri is not Wanda, just Wakandan. People want her to be Wanda and have a Wanda arc when she is not and will not. 🫡)

Even at the lowest of her low, Shuri is no villain. Shuri was just a young woman trying to find what kind of leader she was in the midst of grief, inner turmoil, and human anger. I don't know why some fans say she had a "villain era" or want her to canonically have a "villain era," but ok. That is not Shuri, nor would it have filled the hole in Shuri's heart, as said by Nakia. It was not just because it endangered Wakanda and would spearhead them in an eternal war either. Although, that is reason enough for Shuri not to kill Namor.

Who Princess Shuri Truly Is

Princess Shuri is a natural healer, teacher, and creator. Shuri loves, designs, creates, innovates, builds, and protects. Shuri has people who would die for her and trusts her to make the right choice in the end, faithfully standing beside her even when they recognize that the trajectory she currently set them on wasn't a good one. Why do you think this is? Because they know and trust Shuri. They know her brain is as big as her heart.

Shuri is not inherently destructive. That was the uncharacteristic result of her gripe with death (thinking it meant gone) and destructive handling of her grief. Ryan Coogler even pointed out how Shuri's state was unhealthy and dangerous. Shuri and Namor were both grieving and asking themselves painful questions.

That is why Killmonger is who appears to her. Killmonger is a violent, radical character (made that way by neglect, grief, loss, militaristic molding, and the suffering African Americans face) who almost carelessly sent Wakanda spiraling into mayhem. He became the people he hated, in the wise words of T'Challa, and was an unworthy king, in the wise words of Shuri. If such a man is comparing himself to Shuri and is who her subconscious elicited on the Ancestral Plane (which Shuri seems to be taking to her grave now, refusing to tell Nakia), maybe she's not doing alright? Just a thought!

This is also why Ramonda took her out by the river. It's why M'Baku said what he said at Ramonda's funeral. It is so she can mourn properly. So she could heal properly. Something she wasn't doing since the day T'Challa died.

Killing Namor would've destroyed her, not just her people. It wouldn't have sated her despite in her rightful anger, feeling it would. It would've just sent her past a point of no return.

"Show him who you are." Ramonda told her this after she struggled on her own with killing Namor. Why do you think Shuri hesitated even without Ramonda's influence (which was just her presence and reminding Shuri who she already was) yet? It didn't feel "right" to Shuri as their moment together (watching the Talokan sunrise), how Namor paralleled her, and how their people were alike flew through her mind's eye. Shuri hesitated, not because she was "soft" or "nonsensical mushy writing." Shuri saw what they were and what this was. She thought beyond herself. As Editor Michael P. Shawver said, Namor's line of, "only the most broken people can become great leaders" is what they focused on. It is what Shuri finally realizes at the bitter end. They relate. The narrative, characters, and actors all recognize this; I don't see how some audience members do not.

She and Namor were perpetuating the destructive cycle of grief and vengeance while setting that example for their people, but she was strong enough to pull herself up and break that chain. Then she offered her his hand for the sake of not only themselves, but their people. She saw firsthand the beauty of Talokan. Like Namor admired Wakanda in the beginning, she admired Talokan. She remembered her visit to Talokan in the mix of her nation's beauty.

"Vengance has consumed us. We cannot let it consume our people."

Not "my" people. Not "your" people. Our people.

Shuri realized many simple yet, at the same time, humanly complicated truths of how they had connectivity and were broken, trying to be the best leaders they could be. Neither of them was the villain but are what they were due to the bitter hand life dealt them and the situations they faced.

The Real Theme of Black Panther's Wakanda Forever

This movie also had clear themes of:

A) how POC/indigenous infighting sucks and is counterproductive

B) connectivity of black and brown, from culture to shared wounds

C) the scars of colonialization

Shuri killing Namor would defeat the carefully woven narrative and betray all these well-built things. I know some of you guys don't like to hear this, but Namor is not of the archetype of Killmonger, nor is he the real "villain," so he was handled accordingly.

“We talked to so many experts and really made relationships with them, because there was a lot to go through,” says Beachler. “There are a lot of parallels between Africans and Latin Americans as far as the colonization of their communities and cities, the enslavement of their people, the lies that were told about their culture, the misinterpretation of their words, and the ways they were made out to look demonized in order to elevate a European country.”

Shuri Getting Her Lick Back

"Shuri should've beaten Namor until-" or "She let him off the hook unpunished!" If you paid attention to the movie, you'd see she literally beat him within an inch of his life? She definitely did get her lick back just as Namor got his. Wanting her to get "more" licks after the fact is regressive.

Shuri:

isolated and trapped Namor to weaken and drain his energy

ferally clawed both of his wings, taking out his ability to fly

made him bleed and bruised him up

roasted him in a firey explosion, effectively charring him and rendering him temporarily paralyzed

Shuri didn't play patty cake with him; she made an immortal bleed and fear death. She had him gasping for air on his back at the mercy of her spear tip. She made him yield and call off the troops. She made an ally out of him on her terms who exalted her strength and is currently bandaged up, flightless, and awaiting to aid her (rather than striking first, waging war as originally wanted). It's more than enough and was the best course of action. What do you mean? What are you talking about?

[tododeku-or-bust]

iwtv is completely ruined to me now, it was so much fun when it was only me and my mutuals of color talking about it, now there are too many crackers and taylor swift fans making me read the most disgusting and heinous shit about the black main characters

oh well i give up 🤷🏾‍♀️ i'm looking forward to the new vampire movie directed by ryan coogler and starring michael b. jordan to take my mind off things. hopefully jacob anderson makes an apperance so louis can FINALLY have someone who actually appreciates him (just a dream :'( tbh)

Honestly. Tbh, it's a constant battle when you're Black (or a person of color fr) bc you want to have complex stories with complex characters like Louis, but you can't even have those, bc there's a particular set of fans who don't like them will be RACIST AS FUCK. and so now you gotta sit there and say "hey, you can critique these characters without being racist". except those fans LIKE being racist, but calling them that hurts their feelings and ego, so they triple down on denial while STILL being racist. They'll act like they're the victim with their uwu white guy and god forbid.

I'm not doing that shit with these people. I'm not. Go be racist with shit media comprehension and lack of historical context somewhere else, I've got nothing to prove to you lmao. Yep, go cry that the Black girl was mean to you, surely it's not you. 🤷🏾‍♀️

(And what's crazy is that I actually love Lestat as a character. I think Sam Reid does an excellent job, an amazing performance. But these fucking fans, man. Klan hoods ON. I didn't think it could get worse than the Bakugou people.)

Louis needs to be single. I hope he turns up with that single life. I hope he slaughters every vampire that tries him from this point forward. I look forward to more Black vampire media as well. We coulda had Mahershala if Marvel didn't suck balls 😭

[octoberwitchsblog]

I just saw Black Panther : Wakanda Forever and as a huge fan of Namor in the comics, I am so glad they didn't waste his potential on the screen. He actually feels like a deadly threat and his power is not undervalued by his loss at the end. I think it has a lot to do with Tenoch Huerta as well (his performance is incredible and he has such a charismatic and powerful presence on screen) but I love how Ryan Coogler writes his villains by incorporating racial, political and historical issues in their development. Killmonger and Namor are both understandable because it is impossible to deny what they and their people have been through. Namor's ancestral land was litteraly destroyed by colonizers, his people massacrated and forced to leave their home and Killmonger grew up as a Black man in America, that says it all. You root for them because the origin of their anger doesn't come from a magic stone or whatever. Everything is painfully real.

[gamgwat]

I saw a post that was asking why Talokan is named after the Aztec underworld paradise Tlālōcān when the Talokanil are Mayan. I was pleasantly surprised by the backstory given by one of the film’s cultural consultants, Dr. Gerardo Aldana, on this week’s episode of the Wakanda Forever podcast (which is excellent btw). He makes the distinction that they came up with Talokan as a Maya pronunciation of Tlālōcān, and that Tenoch’s input was crucial to finalizing the backstory: 

“Ryan comes to me and he says ‘Hey, Tenoch says he doesn’t look totally Mayan, so can he possibly be mixed? Can he be mixed indigenous?’ And I said that’s perfect, because if Tenoch’s father’s family is pochteca, that means there’s these mercenary spies from the Aztec empire, and they come out, and they live in Yucatán, and then his mom is Mayan, so he’s like this mixed indigenous race, and then it gets even better because once they go into the underworld...and Namor’s like, ‘Hey I want to know more about my dad, I want to know about his community,’ she’s telling him all these stories about what he [Namor’s father] would tell her, and he talks about Tlālōcān, which becomes Talokan. So then you end up with the final name: he’s inspired by this father that he never knew, this paradise in the underworld, and that becomes the name of what he wants to build.”

I'm so moved by the idea of Namor’s love for his people being influenced by his love and grief for both of his parents—and his vision for Talokan being influenced by both parts of his heritage. Also appreciated that, on the podcast, Tenoch made a point of clarifying 1) the film’s imagining of a pre-Hispanic Maya community is distinct from current indigenous communities and the oppression they face, and 2) he’s not indigenous so “that doesn’t mean that the current indigenous and the mixed people in Latin America can feel represented” (though they can possibly feel connected). 

I def don’t think the movie is perfect and I defer to how indigenous folks of Latin America feel about the incorporation of Mayan culture. But I have a lot of admiration for how thoughtful every member of the team seems to have been in approaching it, and the specific generosity of Black filmmakers including non-Black indigenous people in an Afrofuturist project. Other episodes of the podcast highlight the immense amount of research and work that Hannah Beachler and Ruth E. Carter conducted in creating the visual world of Talokan—and their determination, along with Ryan Coogler’s, to do it with respect for the people and culture and understanding of the stakes—and imo it really shows.