Fandoms-ruined-my-life-siriusly - My Blog For My Semi Important Obsessions

So there’s this huge dudebro in my class, who, yesterday, sat next to me. And I’m sitting there sweating because like… I’m wearing my shirt with the lesbian flag on it, and he’s the most popular jock in school, and always has this look on his face that say ‘I can and will kill you’. He looks me up and down, stares at me for a minute and then goes, “So. Girls in skirts and long socks, am I right?”

To which I nodded solemnly, both out of agreement, surprise and also a healthy amount of awkward fear. He nodded and went, “You get it.”

I said, “Yep.” He fistbumped me, and on went our lives.

turkey and azerbaijan are attacking armenia right now, and it’s 1915 all over again because the world is distracted and people are too busy wondering if they’re gonna live or die, and who gives a shit about my country anyway? my mum told me to tell my friends and explain to them what’s happening and that we are the victims in this war because azerbaijan is spreading lies and people are believing their lies and i told her, what good is that going to do? do you think anyone’s going to come to our aid? is russia going to help us? is america? is england? erdogan said they will finish what their ancestors started, and he means genocide. he means ethnic cleansing. he means to massacre every last one of us. and in doing so admitted to the very same thing turkey has spent 105 years denying. i don’t know who to tell and what good telling people will do because we’re a small, insignificant country, and we have nothing to offer to the people in power, the handful who rule the world. so i sit here with my pain and i feel helpless. i know there’s twitter threads and links to petitions and people being urged to contact their senators, and sorry if im being pessimistic, but azerbaijan has been attacking us for the last 22 years, and though we defend ourselves, we can’t do anything to stop them. they’ve violated ceasefires (and geneva conventions) multiple times. i don’t think they’ll rest until every last one of us is dead.

we just want peace. we just want to live peacefully. we’re not asking for a lot here.

Dark haired people who are good with weapons are way too attractive😂😍

Wille is good at many things. He can sit down and ace any test put in front of him, he can preform any play given to him by his coach with the ease and Grace of something being second nature, according to his boyfriend he’s the most attentive and caring person he’s ever met. According to the entire school he’s a star and too easily walked on for a dude his size.

Other than that, Wille can’t read any room he’s ever been in. He gets overwhelmed easily with spaces he’s not too familiar with, choosing to spend his time with Simon in the theater hallway. Most days, unless Simon’s there to really get him to focus, he lives off in his own head, completely content with the world around inside him.

It’s one of the very, very, rare times that Wille isn’t actively at his home, Simon’s home, school or the football pitch. The entire team was invited to a house party, and as captain, Wille had to at least show up. Simon came without question, holding his boyfriend’s hand and wearing his letterman, eyeing each drink Wilhelm consumed. While Simon didn’t drink, he didn’t discourage Wille from doing so, knowing that on the rare occasion he wanted to, he wouldn’t go overboard.

Wille didn’t loosen up per say, he was already a very sweet and friendly person — just a little more up in the clouds than the rest, so the alcohol just made the masking ease up a bit, the thoughts flow a little faster. It made him all doe eyed and incredibly loving with no brain to mouth filter.

Simon watched as Wille floated around, mingling and laughing with people, the weight of the world off of his shoulders for the night. Sometimes people got a little too close and Simon would inch closer in order to step in if Wille went from loving to lost and angry. It happened a few times, overstimulated and confused and he would lash out.

This wasn’t one of the times though, Simon watching as a cheerleader for another school was so clearly flirting with his boyfriend, none the wiser that the boy in front of her was gayer than the day was long. Wille was smiling charmingly, eyes slightly dazed and out of focused, buzzed and happy, not picking up that he was being flirted with like it was an Olympic apoey. She wrapped her hand on his arm and forced out a giggle at a fact about solar systems, like he was the most interesting and funny person in the universe.

Wille was in fact that, but Simon knew she was just faking for a chance to get in his pants. It just made him roll his eyes in annoyance. Wille only smiled more, taking the touches as conformation that he could continue talking about the stars, to dump all his knowledge on a seemingly innocent bystander. There was a second when his brain caught up with the real world, a visible shift in thought when he looked down and saw her hand on his arm. “Oh your nails are so cute!” Simon held back a laugh.

The girl blinked in confusion, looking inh down at her nails and smiling brightly. “Thank yo-“

“My boyfriend looks really pretty with nail polish on. But theater won’t let him wear it all the time.” Wille cut her off, grabbing her hand to closer inspect the polish adorning her fingers. Simon snorted loudly, the noise catching Wille’s attention. He could always find Simon in a crowd no matter how far they were from one another. His eyes lit up, beaming. “That’s him there!” Wille looked like an excited puppy. Simon raised his glass and smiled gently at the boy he was so in love with. The girl, for the most part, didn’t look too embarrassed by the whole thing.

Simon; taking pitty, made his way over to help connect the dots. He reached for Wille’s hand, squeezing it before passing over water. “Drink baby, you’re drunk.” Wille beamed and did what he was told. The girl blushed more, clearing her throat and looked away. “Sorry, didn’t know he was taken.” Simon only shrugged.

The girl quickly vacated, Wille waving and giggling into his cup, Simon turning to him. “Menace, you knew what you were doing.” Wille shrugged, his arm wrapping around Simon. “Not at first, thought she just really liked space too.” Simon smiled sodgly, leaning up and kissing his cheek.

“No one likes space like you, moon man.” Simon’s voice was loving, not patronizing his boyfriend at all, the term of endearment leaving his lips easily. Wille beamed at him, holding the other closer. “My weird little alien.” Simon let Wille kiss him the next time.

Honestly I love ironically ugly clothes. Like. Hideous in a special way. If it’s not inherently hideous I’ll match it until it is.

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

Nothing about us without us.  Image description: [pale purple and yellow background with dark text] This April, don’t support an organization that harms autistic people. [crossed out logo for Autism Speaks] Support one built by autistic people, for autistic people. [logos for the Autistic Self Advocacy Network and the Autism Women’s Network]

Story Time: in 2012, when I still lived in Florida, I used to work for a credit union, and I had the absolute worst manager and assistant manager. They were sloppy, lazy, and offloaded their work onto other people. No biggie; I’m grown and I can handle my job and not stress because I’m damned good at it. Problem: the manager and assistant manager, who happened to be best friends in real life, also happen to be very, very conservative older women. I’m talking like, hardcore conservative Christians, the kind who are not very good people and are very unlike Christ. I don’t make it a point to tell people I work with my business because when you work, you’re busy and you don’t want to burden other people, right? At least, I don’t. Subject of my love life comes up after a while of me staying in my lane, and I’m also not a liar, so I casually mention that I happen to be gay and I’m dating someone at the time. The change in my managers was almost immediate. From that point on they tried their utmost to make my life miserable, but I wasn’t going to break. Fast forward about a month after this mess and one of the tellers, Tanika, and I have become really good friends, and she pulls me aside one Monday morning to tell me that she overheard the manager and assistant manager talking about firing me, and she didn’t want to get too involved, but she didn’t think it was fair so she wnated to give me a headsup. Here’s the best part: these asshats are SO lazy that they literally say - or so Tanika tells me- that they’ll wait for the end of the week to do it, because otherwise they would have no one to cover my Wednesday shift, and they’d have to sit on the teller line, and no siree Bob, they’re too good for that! Too important! Too. Fucking. Lazy. Immediately I type up a two week notice at my station, print that shit out, and take it to that sloppy ass manager in her sloppy ass office. They have no receipts on me, but these people will find anything and use it to get rid of you if they can, and I’m not having a forcible termination on my record and dealing with how that will look to future employers. Keep in mind that I’m not supposed to know that they’re planning on firing me, and I’ve done my homework on company policy about two week notices (they had just changed it in January, and it was February). I give her the paper, sit in front of her, tell her some cock and bull story about needing more time for school. She looks upset, tells me to leave the letter, and go back to my station. I pull out a second copy of the letter and say: “Sure! But, first, I need your signature on this one, which is my copy of the two week notice.” Her face was a Goddamned mask at this point, but I could tell she was burning up inside. She’s trapped; she has to either sign it and pretend everything is fine, or she refuses and I go in on her for her “suspicious behavior” and call her higher ups. She signs my copy. I go back and finish my day. Day ends and the assistant manager comes to me and tells me they have spoken to the president of the credit union and they have decided to terminate me anyway. Tells me I need to turn in my drawer and vault keys immediately and leave the premises. I refuse; “I’m not leaving until we count my drawer down together, I have a printed and signed copy of my balance, and you have signed paperwork confirming that I have given you all keys back.” She has no choice. I walk out with all necessary paperwork, get home, and immediately email the credit union president telling him what happened and how I think it’s utterly unprofessional for an employer to behave this way. He calls me the next day to my personal phone, and tells me the manager and assistant manager both told him I had quit on the spot and walked out without so much as a goodbye. I tell him I have a signed two week notice from the manager, because this sloppy ho can’t even keep own story together for five minutes. He tells me to photocopy it and email it to him. I do. Tells me he is going to have a discussion with the manager and call me back ASAP. Calls me back, apologizes profusely, and tells me that I shouldn’t have been treated as such, so he offers to pay me for the two weeks I had give notice for, ON TOP of an extra two weeks of compensation, and I didn’t even have to show up to the branch anymore. He was paying me a full month for no work to make up for the situation. First paycheck comes in, and I put on my best outfit. Pick out the hottest shit in my closet that says: “I look incredible” but also “I have free time and you don’t” and “enjoy working here while I get paid while napping at the beach,” and I walk my happy little ass into that bank to pick up my paycheck like:

Happily greet the manager and assistant manager, who are both there like:

Say hello to my friend Tanika, who is at the teller line like:

Enjoying the fuck out of this show, right? Like, she can’t say it out loud, but she’s fucking living for this goddamned circus and it’s written all over her face! I talk to her and loudly tell her how amazing it feels to have four weeks off with pay, and how polite and nice the bank president is.  Then I walk my happy little ass out of the bank like:

But not before saying bye to the manager and assistant manager and reminding them that I’ll be back in two weeks to pick up my next check, “probably right before I head to Key Largo for the weekend.”  …and that’s the story of how I once absolutely wrecked two people who thought they could use their positions of power to come for me unfairly, and a story I’ll be telling my grandchildren so they know, as grandpa knew on one February morning of 2012, that you take bullshit from absolutely no one.

Can you please reblog if your blog is a safe place for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, asexual, aromantic, pansexual, non binary, demisexual or any other kind of queer or questioning people? Because mine is.