when man loves a woman

“Lemonade” poetry bits

Intuition

I tried to make a home outta you.
But doors lead to trapdoors. A stairway leads to nothing.
Unknown women wander the hallways at night.
Where do you go when you go quiet?
You remind me of my father, a magician. Able to exist in two places at once.
In the tradition of men in my blood you come home at 3AM and lie to me.
What are you hiding? The past, and the future merge to meet us here.
What luck. What a fucking curse.


Denial

I tried to change.
Closed my mouth more.
Tried to be soft, prettier.
Less…awake.

Fasted for 60 days.
Wore white.
Abstained from mirrors.
Abstained from sex.
Slowly did not speak another word.

In that time my hair grew past my ankles.
I slept on a mat on the floor.
I swallowed a sword.
I levitated… into the basement, I confessed my sins and was baptized in a river.
Got on my knees and said, “Amen.” And said I mean. I whipped my own back and asked for dominion at your feet.
I threw myself into a volcano.
I drank the blood and drank the wine.
I sat alone and begged and bent at the waist for God.
I crossed myself and thought… I saw the devil.
I grew thickened skin on my feet.
I bathed…in bleach and plugged my menses with pages from the Holy Book.
But still inside me coiled deep was the need to know.
Are you cheating? Are you cheating on me?


Anger

If this what you truly want.
I can wear her skin…over mine.
Her hair, over mine.
Her hands as gloves.
Her teeth as confetti.
Her scalp, a cap.
Her sternum, my bedazzled cane.
We can pose for a photograph.
All three of us, immortalized.
You and your perfect girl.

I don’t know when love became elusive.
What I know is no one I know has it.
My father’s arms around my mother’s neck.
Fruit too ripe to eat.

I think of lovers as trees…
…growing to and from one another.
Searching for the same light.
Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see me? (Why can’t you) Why can’t you see me? Everyone else can.


Apathy

So what are you gonna say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me?

Here lies the body of the love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the mother of my children both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted, most bomb pussy, who because of me, sleep evaded. Her shroud is loneliness.

Her God was listening.
Her heaven would be a love without betrayal.
Ashes to ashes…dust to side chicks.


Emptiness

She sleeps all day…dreams of you in both worlds.

Tills the blood in and out of uterus. Wakes up smelling of zinc.
Grief, sedated by orgasm.
Orgasm heightened by grief.
God was in the room when the man said to the woman, “I love you so much. Wrap your legs around me and pull me in, pull me in, pull me in.”
Sometimes when he’d have her nipple in his mouth, she’d whisper, “Oh my God.” That, too, is a form of worship.
Her hips grind pestle and mortar, cinnamon and cloves, whenever he pulls out.

Loss.
Dear moon, we blame you for floods…for the flush of blood…for men who are also wolves. We blame you for the night, for the dark, for the ghosts.

Every fear…
Every nightmare…anyone has ever had.


Accountability

You find the black tube inside her beauty case.
Where she keeps your father’s old prison letters.
You desperately want to look like her.
You look nothing like your mother.
You look everything like your mother.
Film star, beauty.
How to wear your mother’s lipstick.
You go to the bathroom to apply the lipstick.
Somewhere no one can find you.
You must wear it like she wears disappointment on her face.
Your mother is a woman.
And women like her can not be contained.

Mother dearest, let me inherit the Earth.
Teach me how to make him beg.
Let me make up for the years he made you wait.
Did he bend your reflection?
Did he make you forget your own name?
Did he convince you he was a God?
Did you get on your knees daily?
Do his eyes close like doors?
Are you a slave to the back of his head?
Am I talking about your husband or your father?


Reformation

He bathes me…
…until I forget their names…and faces.
I ask him to look me in the eye when I come…home.
Why do you deny yourself heaven?
Why do you consider yourself undeserving?
Why are you afraid of love? You think it’s not possible for someone like you.
But you are the love of my life…love of my life…the love of my life…the love of my life.


Forgiveness

Baptize me…
…now that reconciliation is possible.
If we’re gonna heal, let it be glorious.
One thousand girls raise their arms.

Do you remember being born?

Are you thankful?
Are the hips that cracked…
…the deep velvet of your mother…
…and her mother…
…and her mother?
There is a curse that will be broken.


Resurrection

You are terrifying…
…and strange…
…and beautiful.


Hope

The nail technician pushes my cuticles back…
…turns my hand over, stretches the skin on my palm and says:
“I see your daughters, and their daughters.”
That night in a dream the first girl emerges from a slit in my stomach.
The scar heals into a smile.
The man I love pulls the stitches out with his fingernails.
We leave black sutures curling on the side of the bath.
I wake as the second girl crawls headfirst up my throat.
A flower blossoming out of the hole in my face.


Redemption

Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons…
…the zest of half lemon.
Pour the water from one jug, then into the other, several times.
Strain through a clean napkin.

Grandmother, the alchemist.
You spun gold out of this hard life.
Conjured beauty from the things left behind.
Found healing where it did not live.
Discovered the antidote in your own kitchen.
Broke the curse with your own two hands.
You passed these instructions down to your daughter.
Who then passed it down to her daughter.

My grandma said, nothing real can be threatened.
True love brought salvation back into me.
With every tear came redemption.
And my torturer became my remedy.

So we’re gonna heal, we’re gonna start again.
You’ve brought the orchestra.
Synchronized swimmers, you are the magician.
Pull me back together again the way you cut me in half.
Make the woman in doubt disappear.
Pull the sorrow from between my legs like silk, knot after knot after knot.
The audience applauds…
…but we can’t hear them.


Warsan Shire

Lame adaptations and sequels are always like, “how can Mina go back to her stifling Victorian marriage after her experience with the dark, seductive Dracula??”

Meanwhile, Mina marries her best friend, who she’s known since they were children, who she share common interests with, they build a home together, work as partners, make immense sacrifices for each other, support each other through their traumas.

Guys, a marriage isn’t stifling and restrictive just because two people… get along, I guess?

picture alex picking up maggie at the bar. she’s late, so some girl is already hitting on maggie, far too close for alex’s liking. so alex saunters up and introduces herself…to maggie. she gives maggie a look letting her know to play along, and maggie doesn’t disappoint. imagine alex using some cheesy line and maggie turning to the girl from before and rolling her eyes like, “can you believe this?” but then she turns back to alex and is like, “yeah, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” so alex pretends to think for a second and then climbs into maggie’s lap and straddles her on the chair while they make out for a full minute. then when alex pulls back, maggie’s like, “hey, did you forget we have dinner plans with your sister tonight?” and they continue to have a normal conversation until the girl, who is shook, gets up and leaves. they laugh about it for a minute before m’gain comes over rolling her eyes and is like, “you guys really need to come up with a new bit.”

Welp. We went to see Wonder Woman. I cried during the sad parts and some of the other parts. They were the same kind of tears I had on and off through Ghostbusters. Movies with strong women who are fully realized people who are allowed to be sexual but are not sexualized and can also kick ass just make me cry randomly. Though TBH I also cry in LotR when anyone picks up their sword and runs into battle screaming the name of their home. I didn’t even realize how ravenous I was for a female version of that.

Why Diana and Steve Trevor are better than your OTP

I finally saw WONDER WOMAN today, and wow. Just wow. The film exceeded my already high expectations. Its highly wondrous success will definitely open many doors for women directors and women centric films, I’m sure. WONDER WOMAN 2017 is a force to be reckoned with, and even if a successful women centric film by a woman director like this doesn’t happen again in the near future, we will always have WONDER WOMAN 2017 to be proud of. *bows down to Patty Jenkins and Gal Gadot*

I know WONDER WOMAN is not a romance movie, but I just have to highlight why Diana and Steve are better than almost all pairings.

  • “Would you say you’re a typical example of your sex?”
    “I’m above average.”
    I DIED.
  • When Steve explained “marriage” (the “till death do us part” vow) and “sleeping” to Diana, and she asked, “Do they do that? Do they love each other till death do them part?” And then she asked if the reason Steve didn’t want to sleep with her (by “sleep with her,” she actually meant sleep beside her) was because they weren’t married. Steve was hella awkward!
  • “Why are they holding hands?”
    “Probably because they are together.”
    And then Diana took Steve’s hand and held it in hers. She was so pure!
  • When Diana had to try different outfits to blend into the crowd, and finally, Steve put a pair of eyeglasses on her eyes, and he was staring at her as though she was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen
  • When Steve casually put his coat on Diana’s shoulders to keep her warm
  • Every single moment that they were fighting together. Diana wanted to save everyone, but Steve told her she couldn’t possibly do that. But Diana insisted. And then she was donning her wonderful Wonder Woman outfit, fighting the bad guys. Seeing Diana fight single-handedly encouraged Steve and his friends to do the same thing. And then they were fighting together. She was running on the roof; he was on the ground, running with her. Steve then remembered how, with the help of the Amazons, General Antiope used a shield to jump up, so when the time came, he and his friends did the same thing to help Diana jump up. THAT WAS EPIC!
  • When they slow-danced under the snow, the snowflakes as their audience. AND THE SCENE AFTER THAT.
  • “What I do is not up to you.”
    Steve knew how strong, capable, and wise Diana was, but he still wanted to protect her in his own ways. 
  • And lastly, even though they had different ways of doing things, which they argued about most of the time, and parted ways in the end, they were always a team that Steve willingly sacrificed his life not only because it was his way to help Diana but also because he knew by doing so, Diana would be able to save the world. 
  • “Diana. I can save today, but you can save the world. I wish we have more time. I love you.” And he handed her his watch before he ran away to save the day as promised. The same watch she asked him about when they first met.

Originally posted by knightlley

I always love it when the man and the woman are both badass, fighting on the battlefield together. Diana and Steve Trevor were exactly that. And so much more. *bows down to Gal Gadot and Chris Pine*

Cure (intro)

Bucky Barnes x reader 

Notes: trigger warnings! Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, swearing, injuries, memory loss, recuperating, fluff, angst and obviously, eventually: smut. 

Summary: Bucky comes back from a mission, not remembering who he is or who anyone else is. He doesn’t remember Steve, Natasha or the woman he loves. She does immediately catch his eye, though. He thinks she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and he’s not afraid to say it in front of people he doesn’t know anyway. What does he have to lose? As far as he knows, he has nothing. On top of being somewhere he doesn’t remember ever being and being stared at by people who seem to know him, but he doesn’t know in return, he hears a voice in his own head. Because, of course, he must be insane. 

A/N: Here we are! The sequel series to Remedy :) I was gonna go somewhere else with this, but it kinda hit me out of nowhere and I thought this could be as sweet and cute as it could be heartbreaking and funny at the same time. Get ready for some awkward situations (and boners), people! 

Originally posted by itsjustmycrazyvibe

There’s a woman standing in front of me. She looks sad, scared; but still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She says ‘Bucky’, and I can’t help but think that I’ve heard that before, but I don’t know what it means. I don’t know where I am, but I feel no threat, not from the man in the blue combat-suit next to me, not from the red head that’s next to him, holding his hand and looking equally sad as the woman before me. Not even from the man with the glasses and a doctor’s coat on my left. They all look at me as if they know me, and.. like me? They look nice enough, I guess. But I can’t help but stare at the woman standing only a feet away from me, tears in her eyes. She looks so sad.

Keep reading

Re: Mulan (2018)

It feels like they’re taking massive shortcuts with Mulan compared to what they did with Sleeping Beauty (Maleficent), Cinderella, and Beauty and the Beast.

Songs aside, I think my biggest concern is that the exclusion of Shang and the inclusion of Chen changes the perception of Mulan’s achievements.

Chen, from the short character description revealed, is a fellow soldier and Ping’s rival in the army until he realizes “he’s” a woman and develops romantic feelings for Mulan.

Shang, Ping’s superior, begins to trust and admire Ping after he proves himself in training and combat, and only develops romantic feelings long after the reveal (which, by the way, was a breach of trust and that’s why he chose to send Mulan away after sparing her life instead of sexism. He already put his neck on the line by sparing her life– it’s clearly against the law for Mulan to be in the army at all.) Post-Mulan 1, Mulan makes the choice to continue seeing Shang and works with him in a team.

(Obviously we don’t have any more information about Chen, but that’s all that’s literally in his character description.)

It should be clear from what information we have about Chen that his role is quite different from Shang’s role in the original film.

Why does Mulan need a rival-turned-love interest? Why does she need a rival besides the Huns, period?

Any rivals she might have had in the army (ie, Yao, Li, and Chien Po, who initially spurned Mulan) were won over by Mulan’s perseverance and good spirit. The songs, in my opinion, are integral to making it clear that this is the case, showing her rejection of traditional Chinese female roles, showing her mental strength and physical adeptness, and showing her journey of personal growth.

What does it mean when Chen has feelings of rivalry for Mulan when he’s under the belief that she’s a man, and has feelings of love for her when he knows she’s a woman? Why is that dichotomy something the writers are introducing?

Isn’t it more important that Mulan and Shang, her superior, gain a relationship of mutual respect and admiration?

Mulan shows the empowerment of a smart Chinese woman who rises in the army by the beat of her own drum, and there should never need to be a rival (especially not a male rival) to combat her efforts.


And while I’m at it, appropriation, which is such a hot topic nowadays:

There are people who think that Disney’s Mulan is cultural appropriation (in the sense of disrespect) and who want Hua Mulan’s legend to be represented accurately in the live action, but as a Chinese person, I’m not at all offended by Disney’s portrayal of Mulan. 

(I digress, but Chinese people do have sense of humor, and did even in Ancient China– I don’t find the “lack” of seriousness in Disney’s portrayal disrespectful to the original legend. While the story is set in warfare, in my opinion the relative lightheartedness of Disney’s Mulan was important in showing Mulan’s effect on the situation.)

Mulan is a major window into Chinese culture for westerners. What does the average American know about China beyond takeout, laundromats, and communism? What do they know of Chinese people beyond those? To have Mulan, an animated movie aimed at people of all ages, that gives westerners insight into the rich history and dutiful/family-oriented culture that pervades Chinese society.

The fact that, in this historic Chinese setting, a strong independent female character rises from feeling like she can’t fit into her family’s expectations for her to finding her way and becoming a warrior who is respected and loved by her family and ALL OF CHINA is important! She proves herself time and time again to be intelligent and humble, gaining others’ respect for her prowess. 


tl;dr

(copied from my twitter thread on this subject)

Mulan doesn’t need a rival to suddenly take deeper romantic interest in her just because he finds out she’s not a man. 

She’s too busy kicking Hun ass and she deserves better than a sudden change of heart (therefore feminine validation) from the likes of Chen Honghui, her purported “rival.”

Mulan (1998) is not strictly faithful to the legend of Hua Mulan, but is still an important window into the China most Westerners forget existed and exists.

It still remains to be seen whether more redeeming information about the 2018 Mulan remake will emerge, but as Disney’s only film that represents China and Chinese people, it is massively important to me that it is done justice and is treated with the respect that Disney’s other blockbuster remakes are.

  • Draco: Pregnant? How can Hermione be pregnant?
  • Lucius: Okay, son, let me explain this to you. When a man loves a woman...
  • Draco: I know about that, okay? We were very careful.
  • Lucius: Did you use a...
  • Draco: Yes!
  • Lucius: Was she on the...
  • Draco: Uh-huh!
  • Lucius: Well, did you try the...
  • Draco: Everything! I'm not even sure we had sex!
The Talk - Bruce Wayne x Reader

So I know I said I was away at some of my friends’ place, but everyone went to bed early because we’re suppose to wake up super early in the morning to go and visit Brussels and I have no self-control (or common sense apparently) so I’m on the internet while everyone sleep and..yeah basically I have time to write a fic, it’s silly and not great, wrote it in litteraly twenty minutes, but here we go, hope you’ll like it : 

WARNING FOR LANGAGE AND ALSO a bit NSFW

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

______________________________________________

When J’onn J’onzz, aka Martian Manhunter, asked where the Batman was, he wasn’t expecting to blush for the first time in his life. 

So that’s how it felt to be so embarassed that your face changed color…it wasn’t pleasant. It was a very human emotion. 

************

He came in the common room of the Watchtower looking for the bat because he had infos for him, infos he asked and said were highly important for one of his current case back in Gotham City.

J’onn scanned the room quickly. 

Aquaman was conversing with Green Arrow and Black Canary. Wonder Woman was arm wrestling Hawkgirl, AND Zatanna AND Green Lantern (not allowed to use his ring of course), and the amazon was clearly having a blast “fighting” them, not even a drop of sweat on her face. Flash was playing ping-pong against himself, under the gaze of Shazam who was trying to keep up

Superman was sitting on one of the couches, on his own, away from everyone (which was unusual), visibly grumpy.

…A lot of J’onn’s colleagues where there, the World being rather calm, but no trace of Batman, or his wife, or even his children. Mm.

Well, the next best thing to locate the bat,a after you and his kids, was to ask his best friend, Clark. 

J’onn went to him and sat down in front of him. 

-Hello Clark. 

Still frowning, and clearly not happy, Superman turned to give a sideway look at his fellow alien friend and said, a bit coldly : 

-J’onn.

There was a short and awkward silence, and Clark was definitely avoiding J’onn’s eyes, which made the martian question : 

-Have I done anything to offend you ?

Surprised, Superman finally turns his head fully toward his friend and, after a moment of confusion says : 

-What ? No. No no you’re fine, it’s not you the problem don’t worry. Sorry…

-You seem on edge, are you alright ?

-Yes, I’m okay. 

-I’m here to talk if you want to, and…

-I’m fine J’onn ! Just a bit…distracted and annoyed, that’s all.

-Why ?

-It’s none of your goddamn business. It’s annoying and there’s nothing you can do about it !

-It’s not like you to be so…harsh. You know you can tell me Clark. What is distracting you like so ?

Clark pouts and crosses his arms, burrying himself deeper in the couch, and doesn’t seem to want to talk further, but after a moment finally says :

-It’s because of Bruce and (Y/N).

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What would the vets and 104th say to their kids if they asked where babies come from

Mikasa: Ask your dad
Reiner: When a man and a woman love each other they do a special hug
Bertholdt: *Panics*
Annie: You’ll find out soon enough
Eren: Uhm… I … Vagina!
Jean: Out of mommy’s tummy
Marco: *Tells the story of the stork*
Sasha: There’s a guy who sells babies
Connie: They just appear
Historia: We go harvest them at the baby cave
Armin: *Sits down and actually explains the whole thing*
Ymir: *shrugs* who knows

Levi: *just bluntly explains the whole process*
Hanji: *gets out the flipchart* Well…
Erwin: Wait till you have that in class
Nanaba: Hey! wow! Did you see that bird!!!!!!!
Mike: I’ll tell you when you’re older
Moblit: *Runs and never comes back*

Sometimes, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they connect – emotionally, physically, spiritually, and intellectually – and decide as a couple that gay people really gross them out. Many of these parents claim that they were born with a natural disgust for people in the LGBTQ community, but it’s important that you understand that their bigotry is a choice. One fueled by ignorance and hate. Their views are not your fault.

Many kids in your school may have bigoted parents, themselves, and are struggling to cope with their own feelings about it. It is important that you respect and support them, as they are in the most impressionable stage of their lives. Their parents may be living a disgusting, inhuman lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean their kids are. They may be confused about their own views on the subject, asking themselves, “Do I hate gay people, too? Is bigotry an inherited trait? If I decide there’s nothing wrong with being gay or transgender, will my parents understand? If I discover that I’m gay, myself, will they still love and accept me?”

Going a step further, there are likely many kids in your school who are openly, flamboyantly bigoted, themselves. It is imperative that you stay away from these people. Their hatred is not contagious like a disease, but if you surround yourself with enough of these people for a long enough time, you could be influenced into sharing their views. No child of mine is going to indulge in that immoral, sinful behavior. Not under my roof.

How To Explain The ‘Gays In Movies’ Controversy To Your Kids

X-Men Preference- What Happens When Your Kids Ask About The Birds and The Bees

Victor wouldn’t really know what to say and would try but then end up pinning it on you. 
“Dad, where do babies come from?” Victor hears his child say as he drives them home. 
Victor looks at the child a little annoyed and then looks away confused.
“Well um… me and your mother love each other… so.. when a man and a woman…. um…. you know what, ask your mother when you get home.” He says to his child with a smile.

Erik would kind of smile to himself when he hears this thinking it’s cute and would be a bit sassy with his answer, but definitely explain what happens in a way that isn’t too scarring.
There was silence in the lounge room with Erik reading and your child playing on the floor when all of a sudden they break the silence. 
“Daddy, where did I come from?” They ask with an innocent expression. 
“Well I’m from Germany and your mother is from y/h/c.” He tells them with a smirk.
“No I mean how are humans made.” They asks their father, and Erik begins to explain. 

Hank would be nervous telling them and when he did it would be a very scientific answer. 
“Dad, how did we come into the world.” Hanks children come up to him in his lab asking. 
Hank begins to stutter telling them and then begins to ramble and go into deeper explanation, until you walk in and save the day. 
“Okay that’s enough education for the day.” You say going down to their levels hugging them.
“Is it true mummy….” The youngest asks.
“Yes it is.” You tell them straight, as you wink at Hank and walk out the room. 

Negasonic would smirk about the question and then pass it to you to explain it to them. 
“Mummy how are babies made?” The small child asks Negasonic.
“Um… you can answer this one, babe.” She says looking to you with a smirk as she walks off to get a drink of water. 

Lemonade Poetry

Intuition

I tried to make a home outta you.
But doors lead to trapdoors. A stairway leads to nothing.
Unknown women wander the hallways at night.
Where do you go when you go quiet?
You remind me of my father, a magician. Able to exist in two places at once.
In the tradition of men in my blood you come home at 3AM and lie to me.
What are you hiding? The past, and the future merge to meet us here.
What luck. What a fucking curse.

Denial

I tried to change.
Closed my mouth more.
Tried to be soft, prettier.
Less…awake.
Fasted for 60 days.
Wore white.
Abstained from mirrors.
Abstained from sex.
Slowly did not speak another word.
In that time my hair grew past my ankles.
I slept on a mat on the floor.
I swallowed a sword.
I levitated… into the basement, I confessed my sins and was baptized in a river.
Got on my knees and said, “Amen.” And said I mean. I whipped my own back and asked for dominion at your feet.
I threw myself into a volcano.
I drank the blood and drank the wine.
I sat alone and begged and bent at the waist for God.
I crossed myself and thought… I saw the devil.
I grew thickened skin on my feet.
I bathed…in bleach and plugged my menses with pages from the Holy Book.
But still inside me coiled deep was the need to know.
Are you cheating? Are you cheating on me?

Anger

If this what you truly want.
I can wear her skin…over mine.
Her hair, over mine.
Her hands as gloves.
Her teeth as confetti.
Her scalp, a cap.
Her sternum, my bedazzled cane.
We can pose for a photograph.
All three of us, immortalized.
You and your perfect girl.
I don’t know when love became elusive.
What I know is no one I know has it.
My father’s arms around my mother’s neck.
Fruit too ripe to eat.
I think of lovers as trees…
…growing to and from one another.
Searching for the same light.
Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see me? (Why can’t you) Why can’t you see me? Everyone else can.

Apathy

So what are you gonna say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me?

Here lies the body of the love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the mother of my children both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted, most bomb pussy, who because of me, sleep evaded. Her shroud is loneliness.

Her God was listening.
Her heaven would be a love without betrayal.
Ashes to ashes…dust to side chicks.

Emptiness

She sleeps all day…dreams of you in both worlds.
Tills the blood in and out of uterus. Wakes up smelling of zinc.
Grief, sedated by orgasm.
Orgasm heightened by grief.
God was in the room when the man said to the woman, “I love you so much. Wrap your legs around me and pull me in, pull me in, pull me in.”
Sometimes when he’d have her nipple in his mouth, she’d whisper, “Oh my God.” That, too, is a form of worship.
Her hips grind pestle and mortar, cinnamon and cloves, whenever he pulls out.
Loss.
Dear moon, we blame you for floods…for the flush of blood…for men who are also wolves. We blame you for the night, for the dark, for the ghosts.
Every fear…
Every nightmare…anyone has ever had.

Accountability

You find the black tube inside her beauty case.
Where she keeps your father’s old prison letters.
You desperately want to look like her.
You look nothing like your mother.
You look everything like your mother.
Film star, beauty.
How to wear your mother’s lipstick.
You go to the bathroom to apply the lipstick.
Somewhere no one can find you.
You must wear it like she wears disappointment on her face.
Your mother is a woman.
And women like her can not be contained.
Mother dearest, let me inherit the Earth.
Teach me how to make him beg.
Let me make up for the years he made you wait.
Did he bend your reflection?
Did he make you forget your own name?
Did he convince you he was a God?
Did you get on your knees daily?
Do his eyes close like doors?
Are you a slave to the back of his head?
Am I talking about your husband or your father?

Reformation

He bathes me…
…until I forget their names…and faces.
I ask him to look me in the eye when I come…home.
Why do you deny yourself heaven?
Why do you consider yourself undeserving?
Why are you afraid of love? You think it’s not possible for someone like you.
But you are the love of my life…love of my life…the love of my life…the love of my life.

Forgiveness

Baptize me…
…now that reconciliation is possible.
If we’re gonna heal, let it be glorious.
One thousand girls raise their arms.
Do you remember being born?
Are you thankful?
Are the hips that cracked…
…the deep velvet of your mother…
…and her mother…
…and her mother?
There is a curse that will be broken.

Resurrection

You are terrifying…
…and strange…
…and beautiful.

Hope

The nail technician pushes my cuticles back…
…turns my hand over, stretches the skin on my palm and says:
“I see your daughters, and their daughters.”
That night in a dream the first girl emerges from a slit in my stomach.
The scar heals into a smile.
The man I love pulls the stitches out with his fingernails.
We leave black sutures curling on the side of the bath.
I wake as the second girl crawls headfirst up my throat.
A flower blossoming out of the hole in my face.

Redemption

Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons…
…the zest of half lemon.
Pour the water from one jug, then into the other, several times.
Strain through a clean napkin.
Grandmother, the alchemist.
You spun gold out of this hard life.
Conjured beauty from the things left behind.
Found healing where it did not live.
Discovered the antidote in your own kitchen.
Broke the curse with your own two hands.
You passed these instructions down to your daughter.
Who then passed it down to her daughter.
My grandma said, nothing real can be threatened.
True love brought salvation back into me.
With every tear came redemption.
And my torturer became my remedy.
So we’re gonna heal, we’re gonna start again.
You’ve brought the orchestra.
Synchronized swimmers, you are the magician.
Pull me back together again the way you cut me in half.
Make the woman in doubt disappear.
Pull the sorrow from between my legs like silk, knot after knot after knot.
The audience applauds…
…but we can’t hear them.

Warsan Shire

Wolfstar Raising Harry
  • Five y/o Harry: Where do kittens come from?
  • Sirius: *oh merlin* Well, Bambi, when a mummy cat loves a daddy cat very much, they hug for a long time so their love can come together and make a kitten—
  • Remus: They had sex, Harry.
  • Harry: Oh, okay!
  • Sirius: I? What? Remus! You can't tell him that!!!
  • Remus: At least I didn't lie to him.

A lot of these posts “””defending””” Molly Hooper after that last episode are really rubbing me up the wrong way, because I swear NONE of y’all have given a single shit about Molly until now. I’ve had to endure 3 years of people saying it’s “pathetic” that Molly slapped Sherlock because he “didn’t return her feelings” (WHICH IS NOT WHY SHE HIT HIM OH MY GOD), and I’ve had to listen to people say her silly crush on Sherlock is embarrassing or that she needs to grow up and move on. Even when she’s been praised, she hasn’t been praised as an engaging and interesting character, as the sweet, kind and intelligent young pathologist she is, she’s been praised because she allegedly serves as a prop to further a relationship between two gay men. Which - guess what guys, IS NOT PROGRESSIVE. 

But oh, now that her feelings have finally been vindicated, now suddenly it’s poor Molly and Molly deserves better. But listen. I’m the first person to say that Sherlock’s got major problems with writing women. Ask me about Mary’s fridging sometime. And yes, I wish to God Molly had more screentime, but this idea that her final scene is about glamorising abusive relationships or that Molly was nothing but a prop is killing me.

Do you know what I saw when I watched that scene with Eurus and Molly?

I saw a character who had undergone tremendous growth over the past four seasons. Originally intended as a one-off, but so spellbindingly brought to life by Loo Brealey that she was made a non-canon recurring character, Molly has grown from timid, mousy and submissive to a woman more than willing to stand up for herself, whose kindness is her strength and whose love was the undoing of Moriarty. She’s smart - she’s the literal embodiment of medical and pathological knowledge in Sherlock’s mind palace. She proved you can be soft and strong, that vulnerability doesn’t have to mean weakness, and that you can stand up to someone and demand better treatment in a gentle voice. 

And, God forbid, she’s also in love with a man. But she’s never been given the opportunity to say so. Her feelings, which have been a strength and a weakness, are visible enough to us and everyone in the show, but she’s never said it out loud. 

Now, truth in fiction is a rare substance. It always takes a tremendous amount of pressure for two people to be completely honest with each other, especially if that truth concerns feelings of love. The question, “what will it take to make Molly tell Sherlock she loves him?” is answered in this scene. And the answer is: Sherlock needs to say I love you first. 

And do you know who was in control in that scene? Molly. Every single step of the way. At any moment she could have told Sherlock to stick it up his arse and hung up. There would have been no repercussions for her. Sherlock tries in myriad ways to get an I love you and she blocks him every time, says “leave me alone,” tells him she won’t let him make fun of her, tells him she’s not an experiment. She hasn’t been treated well by Sherlock and John this season, is still grieving over Mary, is probably suffering depression, and she’s sick of Sherlock’s nonsense. She’s willing to help if it’s urgent, but she’s done playing games. 

She tells him she can’t say it because it’s true. It’s always been true. She’s always loved him. Do you have any idea how long we’ve waited for her feelings to be validated? At last, no, it’s not a stupid girlish crush, it’s not infatuation, it’s a beautiful, selfless love that she cherishes for him. She loves this man. She saved his life. She stood up to him. She refused to tolerate shabby treatment from him. She was happy to be his friend. She moved on and found a new man, but when Sherlock came back, she had to be honest with herself, and she decided it would be better to be alone than marry a man she doesn’t really love. She is so brave, and so selfless, and she’s never once made her feelings his problem. That’s why she begs him - don’t make me say it because it’s true, it’s always been true.  

And then, still feeling like this must be a game somehow, she challenges him to say it first. Go on. If you want me to make a fool of myself, then you have to go first. I’m not jumping until you do. Molly can see through him; he can’t manipulate her like he did in S1. She’s not that person anymore. And he’s not that person anymore, either. Eurus didn’t rig Molly’s flat with explosives, and Sherlock didn’t win when he supposedly saved her life, because it wasn’t about that. It was about torturing Sherlock emotionally, and where once he manipulated her without a second thought, hurting Molly now is like vivisection to him. Eurus - Molly - both get him to admit “I love you” - twice. Once, because he was trying to save her life - the second time because he realised it was true. As a friend, or something more, who even cares, he loves her and he realises just how much. 

And still, Molly is in control. She can hang up, if she wants. She contemplates it. But then, almost kissing the phone, perhaps having recognised the note of sincerity in his voice, she whispers, I love you.

Too often an unrequited crush ends when a character suddenly finds a new man or woman, falls in love, and gets over their old feelings, and has a happily ever after with this random new person. But I’ve always found that maddeningly dissatisfying, and even though it comes from horrific circumstances, I’m so glad that Molly’s feelings were validated, not because Sherlock returned them, but simply because those feelings are hers, and they are real, they’ve always been real, and it hurts, god it hurts, but at least she was able to be honest. The cut has been made, the truth is revealed, and now she can begin to heal. She doesn’t have to keep those words festering inside her. Molly loves Sherlock, and it took him telling her he loved her to admit that. 

And Sherlock’s a wreck afterwards. He caresses those words “I love you” and thinks about how he always believed caring was not an advantage. He thinks about selfless, kind Molly Hooper, who had always loved him, and saved him, whose love was her strength, whose love was doomed, who would not suppress or deny her feelings, but merely kept them to herself to spare him discomfort and then - 

He thinks about Molly in that coffin. He thinks about losing her. He thinks about what he’s just said to her. He thinks of how he’s hurt her.

No.

He loses control. Always, he’s pretended to be pure intellect, has always clung to rationality, but in this moment he is nothing but emotion. Rage, pain, fear, sadness, needing to destroy this coffin, smashing it to pieces, screaming in agony because of how much he feels for this woman. 

Molly loves Sherlock. We’ve known for a long time. And I truly feel that Molly being allowed to own those feelings, because they are hers, regardless of whether they are reciprocated or not, is far more powerful than sweeping them under the rug and pretending they never existed or that she got over them just fine. This is how she feels, and no she won’t tolerate poor treatment because of them, and no she won’t put up with him playing games, but yes - she will be there when he needs her, because that’s just who she is.