If I ever met my favourite actor:
I need more of The L Word. Give me a 7th season or movie you fucking merkins
like this post if u are queer and tired, reblog if u are queer and tired x10
Grown men who check out teenage girls make me physically ill.
Prompted by the fabulous malkkum about seven months ago, and it’s finally done.
Word Count: 15,164
Rating: M for smut
It was unavoidable. Cordelia knew the day had to come, but that didn’t soften the blow one bit. It was a distant thought, then month away, then only a week and suddenly she was setting her alarm knowing that she would have to wake up to everyone congratulating her.
It was the anniversary of her Supremacy and though the girls had managed to keep most of the details quiet, the headmistress was expecting a celebration. Cordelia had done good for the Coven; it was in a better place than it had ever been before. She couldn’t deny she was a good Supreme.
But as she laid her head on her pillow, alone in her king sized bed, all she thought about was the fact that she’d done it all without Misty Day by her side. A tear slipped down her cheek and onto the pillow and she wiped her eyes in hopes of keeping the rest at bay. She knew this pain would only be worse tomorrow, but she resolved that no matter how much her heart ached, she wouldn’t show it in front of her girls.
Misty had been the greatest blessing in her life. Cordelia knew it was her job to protect Misty—to teach her, guide her, help her grow as a witch— but in the end Misty had done that for her. Misty had looked at her like she was the most important person in the world, listened to her every word, reminded her that she still had something to give. Somehow, she seemed to know exactly what Cordelia needed, be it a lengthy hug, dancing to Stevie or time alone under the evening sky, even when Cordelia herself didn’t. In the eventful few weeks they’d spent together, Cordelia felt more deeply connected to Misty than anyone she’d ever known. She hadn’t realized it until Misty was gone, but she was in love with her.
Cordelia rolled over onto her side, looking wistfully at the left side of her bed that she still didn’t dare sleep on. Misty had once slept there, an angel with long eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks and her wild blonde hair fanned out across the pillow. Cordelia thought about the nights she’d shared her bed with the swamp witch often. She replayed every moment in her head, how soft Misty’s skin was, how many times she’d been inches away from kissing her, how perfectly their bodies melted together. None of that had crossed her mind while it was happening—she was comforting her closest friend, nothing more. She tried to push the thoughts of how things could have gone differently out of her mind, but they always seemed to lie there on the empty side of the bed.
when you suddenly remember you have homework due the next day:
Except you can’t show a topless woman on TV - and you can’t defibrillate a woman in a bra. So victims of heart attacks on TV are always male. Did you know that a woman having a heart attack is more likely to have back or jaw pain than chest or left arm pain? I didn’t - because I’ve never seen a woman having a heart attack. I’ve been trained in CPR and Advanced First Aid by the Red Cross over 15 times in my life, the videos and booklets always have a guy and say the same thing about clutching his chest and/or bicep.
And people laugh when I tell them women are still invisible in this world.
Things I did not know, but should.
This is a post that might save a life.
My mom worked for 25 years as an ER nurse and is convinced that a lot of women die simply because folks only know heart attack symptoms that occur in males.
Society thinks our bodies are so scandalous that it’s better to put our lives at risk than to show us how to stay safe