Do you ever think about how the scene where Arthur catches Merlin with a dress in S2Ep9, and the scenes where Arthur is like "girl??????" in S5Ep8
that it's like just a lil bit suggested that Arthur thinks Merlin is both into men and crossdresses (which does that suggest some kind of queer culture in Camelot where gay men are known to do drag?? who knows) and not only thinks that, but accepts it too.
Like Arthur who is presented with the fact that Merlin might wear dresses in his spare times just shrugs and says what a man does in his spare time is up to him, and that the colour suits him.
He literally could have made any joke about Merlin being a girl like he often does when he teases Merlin about being a coward (which we know is just teasing) but instead he just accepts it, and still calls Merlin a man.
Meanwhile in The Hollow Queen, well, I'll let the lines speak for themselves:
GUINEVERE: He’s not in danger. He’s seeing a girl.
ARTHUR: Merlin?
GUINEVERE: Gaius, I’m sorry, but there is no reason to worry.
ARTHUR: Except for the poor girl.
---
ARTHUR: Oh, so you can go and visit that girl again.
MERLIN: What?
ARTHUR: Girl.
MERLIN: Don't have one.
ARTHUR: That's not what Guinevere tells me. So, why don't you tell us all about her?
MERLIN: Right.
ARTHUR: And why you're walking with a limp.
---
The first lines could be interpreted that Arthur doesn't think Merlin is good with women, but paired with the lines from the 2nd scene where Arthur asks him about it.... it definitely feels like Arthur is saying to worry for the girl because he thinks Merlin isn't attracted to women.
I mean the sheer disbelief alone when he says "Merlin?" like it's so out of realm of possibility. (I mean it could also be suggested that Arthur doesn't think anyone would be attracted to Merlin, but with the 2nd scene it definitely doesn't seem so.)
Especially the way he says "girl" with sarcasm dropping from his tone, like literally "girrrl" is how he says it. Like he's basically calling out Merlin, or saying that he knows that the girl Gwen told him about is actually a man.
Which I believe is why the "and why you're walking with a limp" has Arthur so, well,
like this. I think he truly believes that Merlin is lying sjhdfghsdfg Like he's thinking in that little brain of his that Merlin got pegged by a man and just isn't admitting to it.
And he's definitely accusing Merlin of sneaking away to have sex, you know, during an important time and all.
Basically, with these like 3 scenes in the show, I'd say it really comes off as Arthur accepting Merlin as gay and just waiting for the day where Merlin tells him the truth.
And that's really funny to me.
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@steddie-week day 3: first kiss | 2.1k words | G or T
Steve and Robin were about halfway through a rewatch of Clue when the phone rang, and Steve was across the living room before it was halfway through its second ring. “What’s wrong?” He asked without preamble. His heart was already racing; too anxious to consider the possibility that it could be someone calling for his parents—or even that it might be a non-emergency call. It was past ten already, and most of The Party should have at least been pretending to sleep by then.
“Steve?” The voice on the other end of the line was a bit distant—drowned out by the staticky sound of rain hitting pavement.
“Eddie? Are you alright? Where are you? Did something happen?”
Eddies’ van was out of commission, so he’d been relying on rides from Steve and the rest of the Corroded Coffin crew to get him to and from places for the past few weeks. If he was out somewhere and in trouble, he was stranded there.
“Yeah—I-I mean, no. Nothing—nothing happened. Just—could you come get me?”
“Yeah, of course. Where are you?”
“I’m out at The Hideout.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll be there in ten—maybe fifteen minutes.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I said I’d be there in ten, Eddie.”
“Okay.”
Steve hung up the receiver and turned to make for the foyer to find Robin standing behind him—jacket on, back slung over one shoulder, and a pair of his shoes in one hand. “Picking Eddie up?”
“Yeah.” Steve took the shoes from her hands gratefully, and started pulling them on.
“Can you drop me off on the way without slowing yourself down?”
“Yeah, I budgeted Robin home-delivery time just in case.”
“Well, hop to it then, dingus.”
~*~*~*~
When Steve pulled up in front of The Hideout after dropping off a surprisingly acquiescent Robin (Eddie needs you more than I do right now, dingus), it was to find Eddie sitting atop one of the wheel stops of The Hideout’s small lot, looking like a drowned rat.
Eddie was up and yanking open the door to the beamer before Steve could so much as put it in park, and Steve pulled out of the lot as soon as Eddie had his seat belt buckled across him.
“You okay, mann?”
Eddie shrugged.
“What happened?”
“Don’t really wanna talk about it right now.”
Steve nodded. “Okay.”
“Sorry to interrupt movie night with the missus.”
Steve laughed. “She already forgives you. Provided that you were actually having a crisis and not just faking one as a ploy to get me alone with you.”
That startled a laugh out of Eddie in turn, and he turned in his seat to shoot Steve a mischievous grin. “Now, does that sound like something I would do, sweetheart?”
“According to Robin? Yes.”
“Ah, I see who the brains of the operation is, then.”
“Was that in question?”
“Well—whether or not there was a brain behind you and Robin’s whole deal was a little up in the air.”
Steve snorted. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
Silence fell between the two of them, and twenty seconds in Eddie started rooting around in Steve’s glove compartment.
“Dude. What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for a tape in here that doesn’t suck, man!”
“What are you talking about? We have, like, half the same taste in music!”
“Yeah, but the only thing you keep in your car are mixtapes! And I’m sorry, Steve, but some of the things the kids have made you are—objectively speaking—extremely cursed.”
“You could put in the one Robin made.”
“It’s hilarious that you think there’s only one Robin mixtape in here. But also: I’m not in the mood for Cyndi Lauper.”
“Cyndi Lauper’s not in the mood for you,” Steve snarked under his breath—more because he knew that’s what Robin would say if she was in the car with them than for any other reason. Raising his voice so that Eddie knew it was meant to be heard, he added, “I think there might be one from Jon in there?”
Eddie wrinkled his nose. “Eugh. No thanks. My night’ been shit enough.” He kept rooting around for another minute or two, until— “Aha!” he emerged triumphant, an sparsely labeled tape held aloft in one hand. It looked like one that Steve had made for himself years ago—long before he’d gone knocking on the supernatural’s door. If he was guessing right, it was a mix of Queen, Bowie, and Fleetwood Mac. “How have I never found this one before?” Eddie asked.
“Because in spite of your loud protestations to the contrary, you usually just let whatever music is playing in the car happen to you.”
Eddie gave a considering hum as he stuffed his find into the tape deck. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
The two of them fell silent again as “The Chain” poured from the speakers, and the rest of the ride passed without conversation, the only sounds between them besides the music was the steady beat of rain against the windshield, and Eddie’s fingers drumming along to the beat of the song.
~*~*~*~
Steve killed the engine as he pulled up in front of the Munsons’ trailer.
“Thanks for the ride,” Eddie said, pulling a strand of hair out to cover his mouth as he did so.
“Yeah—any time, dude.”
Eddie made to get out of the car, but froze in place as he leaned half-in, and half-out. “Could you—wanna come in?” There was a put-upon air of casualness to his tone in a way that made Steve suspect that he was being asked to stay the night. He wasn’t sure why Eddie felt so shy about the request, though—it wasn’t like this would be the first time.
“Oh. Yeah, man. Of course.” All he ever wanted was to be helpful. So Steve took his keys from the ignition, and trailed after Eddie as he led them both inside.
Eddie started peeling out of his soaked clothes before the front door had finished closing behind them, and made a beeline for his bedroom so he could pull on a pair of boxers and a bleach-stained t-shirt, before flopping down onto his bed. Steve followed after him, toeing his shoes off inside the door, and crawling into bed beside Eddie once he was finished changing.
"Wanna talk about it now?" he asked, as Eddie tucked himself up against his side.
Eddie shrugged. He took one of Steve's hands into both of his own and started idly playing with his fingers. "Bad date."
"Oh yeah? People aren't going mad over a metalhead who was only recently cleared of all murder charges?"
Eddie shoved at him. "Low blow, Harrington."
Steve stole his hand back to hold both of them up in surrender. "Sorry, man."
Eddie yanked Steve's hand back and held it covetously in both of his own, and Steve reached down with his own free one to tangle it into Eddie's wild mane of curls, which were still damp from the rain. "Whatever, dude. It wasn't that. He just…he was just kind of an asshole.” Eddie shrugged again, sounding a little resigned. “The regular kind."
Steve was silent, but ruffled his hand through Eddie's hair in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.
"I just…I don't know. I don't know why I even bother trying to go out on dates at this point.”
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, it's like…I don't know. Just feels like I'm chasing after something I'm never gonna find."
"I get that," Steve said, tone soft and understanding.
"Really? Figured you'd have people falling all over you."
Steve snorted. "I don't think I've gone on a date since I went to the championship game with Heidi back in March."
Eddie jerked a little in Steve’s grip. "Why not?" He sounded…genuinely very confused.
Steve shrugged. "I don't know, I just…haven’t really felt like it. Honestly, I’d already felt like I was circling the drain back at that point.”
“...Huh.”
They both went quiet, Steve still running one hand through Eddie’s hair, and Eddie still tangled his fingers through those of Steve’s other hand.
“So, how do you…?” Steve trailed off with a frown, unsure of how or whether he should finish his question.
“How do I…?”
“How do you, y’know, find guys? To go out with? Who you aren’t scared of knocking your lights out, that is.”
Eddie shifted in Steve’s arms to get a better look at him. “Wait, wait. Have you not been on a date with another guy yet, Harrington?”
“No…?”
“Then how did you—?”
“How did I, what?” Steve felt a little on edge; a little on the defensive. Like there was some unseen standard he wasn’t living up to.
“How’d you figure out you were into them, then?” Eddie sounded a little bewildered. A lot incredulous. “Figured you were the victim of a drunken make-out discovery or something.”
Steve laughed, because that did sound like him, but— “Nope. Never been kissed.” He tilted his head toward Eddie with a little smirk. “By a guy, that is.”
Eddie propped himself up on one arm and stared at Steve like he was a puzzle to be solved, and there was a glint in his eye that made the hair along the back of Steve’s neck stand on end. “D’you wanna be?”
Steve’s heart skipped a bit, and his hand stilled in Eddie’s hair. “Uh…what do you mean?”
“Do you wanna be kissed? By a guy?”
Steve laughed, feeling awkward. “Are you offering?”
Eddie shrugged, just a touch too casual. “Sure, why not?”
“I don’t know. Wouldn't it be weird?”
“Doesn’t have to be weird if you don’t make it weird, man.”
Steve turned that over. It’s not like he and Eddie didn’t already spend most of the time they spent alone together tangled up in one another. There was a quasi-romantic edge to their friendship that Steve wasn’t really used to—well. Except for with Robin. But that was different, for obvious reasons. And, granted, the dynamic between him and Tommy had been…intense, but it still hadn’t felt like this.
Regardless—kissing Eddie wouldn’t change anything about their friendship if they didn’t want it to. “I guess you’re right.”
Eddie half-turned in Steve’s arms. “Yeah?”
Steve repositioned himself so that they were facing each other, hitching one shoulder up in a nonchalant little shrug. “Sure, why not?” he parroted back.
Eddie smiled, and it made his whole face go soft and gentle in a way that had Steve’s stomach twisting up in knots. Oh, he’s beautiful.
Eddie reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind Steve’s ear, and then let his hand drift along the line of Steve’s jaw until he was gently gripping his chin between two fingers. Steve’s lips parted in anticipation, and the two of them breathed into the silent space they’d created between them. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and his arms breaking out in goosebumps.
It didn’t make any sense though. It wasn’t like it was his real first kiss. And he’d known he was attracted to men for ages, even if he’d never acted on it. It wasn’t even exactly news to him that he found Eddie attractive. But…none of their interactions had been this charged before.
Eddie closed the space between them, and pressed a gentle, but firm kiss to Steve’s lips, grinding the trajectory of Steve’s thoughts to a halt. It was a simple kiss. And it could have remained like that—soft, sweet, and almost chaste—except that Steve couldn’t hold back a sharp gasp in response, as his breath hitched in his throat.
He should pull back. He knew he should pull back—but he’d always been greedy, and Eddie was making no move to put any distance between the two of them either. So Steve surged forward, capturing Eddie’s lips into a more passionate kiss, and savoring the small whine it elicited. Eddie gave as good as he got, winding an arm around Steve’s waist, and slotting a thigh between both of Steve’s legs with a force that startled a little “Mmpf!” from him.
All in all, the kiss probably lasted little more than a few moments. But for all Steve knew, whole civilizations could have risen and fallen in that soft, gray space of time he and Eddie had their lips pressed together.
He wasn’t sure who finally broke away, but once they did, both of their breaths came short and heavy.
“That was…really good?” Steve said, a high-pitched note of giddiness and wonder in his tone.
Eddie smiled with cheshire-style grin, eyelids heavy and low. “Yeah? Wanna make it even better?”
Steve smiled right back. “I think I might.”
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To that anon afraid of writing like Viv, the fact that you’re aware of her nonsense and have enough self awareness to be wary of repeating her mistakes speaks not only to your character, but to your potential as a writer.
Remember, writing is a *skill* that must be developed through study, research, and hard work. Just like painting or any other skill that takes effort to improve at. A single semester of Writing 101 in college is not in fact enough. Developing your skill as a writer/author takes years.
If you aren’t already, I recommend building yourself a curriculum. Writing can be self taught, just like art, but you need to be willing and able to structure your improvement.
Start collecting resources and compiling them in a readily accessible place.
Organize those resources into categories based on the type of information they bring to the table (are they inspirations? Research? A collection of essays/video essays about the craft? Podcasts? Lectures?)
Make a list of the kind of resources you still need. Are you trying to write a particular kind of fiction? Read the works of authors who have successfully tackled the genre/subject/technique and ask yourself *why* it’s successful. Find out what steps the author(s) took to develop that work. Then compare it with a piece of media that does it poorly and ask yourself the same question—why did this writer fail where the others succeeded?
It’s crucial to be able to properly and thoroughly deconstruct and critique a piece if media if you yourself want to engage in the same craft. We can learn just as much from bad examples as we can good ones, but only if we learn how to properly dissect and discuss them from a more academic perspective.
Too many people assume that writing is innate. It isn’t. It needs to be respected as it’s own discipline and developed as a skill. Anyone can do it, but only if they’re willing to learn.
This ask is long enough but if anyone wants to DM me, I can send you some resources on the craft of writing <3
^^
And it can be learned in any way from letting to outlet your emotions or to craft and care to know that you have a story that you want to tell. Honestly well said 👏
I've got a really good book recommendation about in-animation industry and a couple writing guides/old books my mother gave me no longer in printing sorta deal, always seek out books and knowledge whenever you are able to friends!!
Practice makes progress!<3
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