Hello, I work for a large moderately evil corporation and for at least five years now I have to sign a yearly thing to say I will never ever have one of these devices in the same room as me while I work.
My large moderately evil employer takes it for granted that these things are spying on me at all times, and you should too.
Quick shout out to the Down syndrome kid from my after-school program back when I was in grade school. Like yea he had the usual issues but he was a sweetheart and quite funny; and one day both his parents showed up at the same time to pick him up and I had the experience of meeting a family of genetically disabled people that had jobs and a home and a kid in school and it was a profoundly normalizing experience for me like I couldn’t take eugenicists seriously after that because like “no they totally can have whole entire meaningful lives with marriage and children and work and hobbies have you not met Dennis??” Anyway quick shout out to Dennis you were a real one
this all goes back to how sometime around the late 90s/early 2000s they stopped making people born in the 90s and switched over to making people born in the 2000s. it's not a coincidence
Okay but do you understand the TREASURE TROVE of reading a fic you enjoy and then looking at the author's page and discovering they have written multiple just like it?! That is the ultimate score!
The unsavvy talk about furries like they're some hypersexual excretion of modernity, but drawing animal-people is one of the top 10 neolithic human activities. It's up there with collecting berries and producing clay figures of fat women.
only after Gwaine has a Fun (read: Stupid) idea. It’s not… illegal (not most of it, anyway), just… frowned upon.
TW: Bruises/minor injuries and fighting?
“What’s everyone up to later tonight then?”
Gwaine’s voice booms across the mostly empty training field, and it’s inhabitants look to him warily. The King, his manservant, and the First Knight just raise an eyebrow each as Sir Percival responds:
“Got no plans, something in mind?”
Sir Elyan is quick to follow:
“Having my night ruined by whatever you’re about to suggest.”
Sir Lancelot just grins, and Sir Mordred nods to Percival in agreement. Gwaine looks to The King:
“Sire?”
“I’ve a feeling you’re about to tell me.”
Gwaine’s grin grows and moves his gaze over:
“Merls?”
“Sorry, Gwaine. I promised to run some errands for Gaius after I finish with the prat, and I’ve got a few other bits and pieces I need to get done as well.-”
He claps his hands together and smiles brightly before continuing:
“-Speaking of, I actually need to get going.-”
He turns briefly to Arthur, yanking his hair to catch his attention before turning and walking back towards the castle, speaking over his shoulder:
“-I’ll send George out to help with the rest of training, I’ve got a shit ton of laundry to do.”
Arthur scowls but doesn’t say anything, and Gwaine pouts and mutters a quiet “You’re no fun,”; the rambunctious knight knows he isn’t going to get anywhere, having lost this argument many a time, and he finally looks over to Sir Leon:
“M’Lord?”
The knight grimaces, regretting more with every word out of Gwaine’s mouth mentioning to him that he’s the only Noble Born among The King’s closest circle.
“I, for one, stand with Elyan on this. Doesn’t matter whether I say no and stay well away, I’ve not got Merlin’s skill in sneaking around and I’ll still end up tangled up in whatever mayhem you have planned, so lay it on us.”
Gwaine just grins proudly, happy to have all bar one in on his little plot. He does however tap the side of his nose with a finger, as he winks conspiratorially:
“Ah, that would be telling. Meet me by the castle gates at about an hour before midnight. I promise I’m not just dragging you to the tavern but I… uh, well… whilst I was in the tavern I heard a pretty solid rumour, more than once, about a certain something I’m eager to try out.”
Arthur looks doubtful, giving Gwaine a suspicious up and down look before slowly speaking:
“Not the tavern?”
Gwaine nods and crosses his hand over his heart obnoxiously:
“Cross my heart, not the tavern. It’s a special, rare opportunity to… well… have fun! So come on, who’s in? It’s not like any of us have anything on in the morning, and I promise it’s not illegal.”
The knight receives a round of nods and agreements, varying in enthusiasm, and that keeps him mostly quiet for the rest of the afternoon, bar his knowing, excited grin, and loud ”I’ll see you all later, then!” as they re-enter the castle and go their separate ways.
what if the beloved (debatable) cinema u worked at was shutting down so u exploited ur manager (asked very nicely and said please) if u could watch the final 2 episodes of the best and gayest bbc show to ever grace television on the big screen (bbc merlin)