Thinking about XMFC and getting real angry
because those old white dudes with their “this is why the cia is no place for a woman” because all moira could remember from her time with the mutants was sunlight and a kiss
like. okay it’s irritating enough that because those are supposedly ~girly things it proves that she’s too ‘silly’ to handle fieldwork or whatever but
sunlight is definitely the beach scene. Which. That was a massively traumatic experience. of COURSE IF ANYTHING WAS GOING LEAVE AN IMPRESSION IT WOULD BE THAT.
and the kiss was the absolute last event in the chunk of memory that charles carved out of her brain. It stands to reason that if he missed anything, that would have been it, and that’s assuming his ego wasn’t inflated enough that he chose to leave it there. WHICH IT ENTIRELY LIKELY GIVEN HOW YOUNG!CHARLES ACTED THROUGHOUT THE REST OF THAT MOVIE.
so don’t act like moira was ~unprofessional because that’s all she has left of the memories that were taken from her without her awareness or consent i am so MAD
Intersectional reads: talking about books by and about queer women of colour. Who are your favourite queer women of colour authors and books?
Wendy Darling becomes a pilot as soon as she comes of age,
because she was always going to find a way to fly,
and night after night sitting by the windowsill never got her anywhere
other than the ground.
When told of her curse, Sleeping Beauty goes in search of a spindle.
Instead of mounting the land with her feet full of needles, Ariel watches as her lover slides into the ocean with his legs blurring into scales.
One night, Belle finds herself growing a set of fangs and a coat of shaggy fur to match her Beast’s, and finds that she prefers jagged claws to blunt fingernails.
Susan Pevensie is not shunted from her kingdom
because she learned to use the only weapons she had at hand,
forfeiting her bow and arrow for red-lined lips and slick nylons.
After her feathers bloom like they do every night, Odette goes to find the sorcerer
and plunges her beak into each of his eyes.
True love’s kiss is sitting quietly in the middle of their priorities.
If they find themselves locked in a castle, they break down the walls.
Give me princesses in tattered chainmail or ripped dresses
Give me princesses who ride around, slaying dragons
or mounting them and claiming the sky.
When they are placed up in a tower and told to wait for their hero,
our princesses take their fate by the guts
slide their thighs around the neck of their thrashing dragon
and take to the stars.