Sometimes, people ask Merlin how long he and Arthur have been dating.
“Twenty one years,” he’d tell them.
“Wow,” they’d say, “that’s a really long time.”
Merlin just nods.
Then there’s the inevitable silence as they do some frantic calculations.
“Wait- how old are you?”
Merlin just goes back to his food.
“But - that means you started dating when you – you couldn’t have been older than, what?”
“Three,” Arthur says. Usually at his point in the conversation he’d start stealing Merlin’s fries. Merlin would let him, but glare a lot, because that’s what Merlin does. “We got married behind the church.”
“Wait, hold on, you’re married?”
“Nah,” Merlin says, “I don’t think those kinds of marriages are valid.”
“You know, with plastic rings, without witnesses, that stuff. Also, we weren’t of legal age, obviously.”
“We were three,” Arthur repeats, “and Merlin was wearing half a chocolate cake.”
“Was not. And if you hadn’t stolen my plate that wouldn’t–”
“But,” they’d say, a little desperate now, “I know, that’s a childhood thing, but that’s not actual dating. I mean, you guys had other relationships, right?”
Merlin stares, then. “No, why would I?”
Arthur always gets a bit angry at this part. “Merlin was my boyfriend from that day on. What, you think my ceremony was lacking somehow?”
“Wait no, I didn’t mean -”
“Because I got him flowers-”
“Dandelions, he got me dandelion, also roses, they pricked him, he still has a scar there-”
“And there was music-”
“Mum was making more cake, she always sings then-”
“And the cake, obviously.”
“Obviously,” their listener echoes. “And you never broke up? Dated someone else? Had crushes on other people?”
They both just shake their heads. Merlin spies Arthur’s abandoned hot cocoa. It has marshmallows on. Arthur, the heathen, doesn’t even like marshmallows.
“You’re not drinking that, are you?” He’s already grabbing it as he says it.
“Sure, go ahead, take everything I own, strip me down to my last shirt.”
Merlin smirks. “I intend to.”
At this point, the listener is usually defeated by their long, lingering looks and makes a run for it before they can witness some kissing. Or worse.
They probably didn’t get it, but it’s fine. After all, no one but Merlin and Arthur need to.
Things British boys don't say:
Splendid, Darling, Love, Sweetheart, Golly, Spiffing, Tremendous
Things British boys DO say:
I think you're as fine as tits. I'd smash her back doors in. Gary you absolute wanker. I'm off on the piss. Eric got wankered at pres and didn't make it to the club. I'll suck your nan.
I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.
I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery mountains, trees, people.
The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
Please don't expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.
Kiss me, and you will see how important I am
What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.
How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.
I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.
I want to talk to everybody as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night...
If I didn't think, I'd be much happier; if I didn't have any sex organs, I wouldn't waver on the brink of nervous emotion and tears all the time.
I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.
idk i think i dont really wanna be hokage anymore
i mean like. it was kind of a kiddy dream, right? i don't really think i want the job, i don't think i'd be very good at it. i just wanted the acknowledgement, really, but i've got that! and i've got friends, and family... i think i'm good.
that's good, then.
but idk what else to do with my life if i don't do that, you know? that was the whole plan.
are you asking me for advice?
i mean, i guess?
dude i didn't plan to live past like, max 17. i'm wingin' absolutely everything here.
why do you think all my decisions are so poorly thought out?
In the novel he has greasy hair, smelly clothes, pasty skin and even has a little chub. Basically, everything about his appearance screams that he’s any old bum that you’d meet on the streets.
What’s funny is that, despite all this, the QZGS fandom is thirsty for him anyway…
Is it his personality? No, but this is Ye Xiu we’re talking about, the walking definition of shameless. He’s rude to everyone he meets and never holds back when it comes to draining other people’s resources. He’s incredibly arrogant too. How is this… attractive?