#here ya go anyways

[slitherpuffinstories]

Deamus microfic feat. Florean Fortescue x August Ollivander ~ Obvious

Seamus didn’t dare to look up. He couldn’t. And his mother’s voice only grew louder and louder.

“- I will not tolerate such sick behaviour, and here of our places, in Diagon Alley! You should be ashamed of yourself, my good sir. There are kids here, and you exposing them all to such disgusting acts- it’s a violation! I can’t believe-“

And so it went, on and on, and for every time her voice grew louder, Seamus’s face grew redder and his posture more slouched as he tried desperately to make himself as small as possible. He clutched his ice-cream tighter in his hand.

Every word she said hurt as if they were spoken directly to him. And in a way, maybe they were. They were directed to people like him, and it hurt.

“We didn’t do anything wrong”, came the sharp response when his mother finally took a break in her lecturing to breathe. Seamus looked up at the older man in the ice-cream shop. He looked furious, his dark eyebrows knitted together under a swoop of black hair.

“Yeah”, another voice chimed in, and Seamus heard the other man’s scoff before he saw him reappear from behind Fortescue, the owner of the shop who apparently had a boyfriend. Said boyfriend was looking just as furious as Fortescue, a stark contrast to how he had looked only minutes before.

When the two men, unaware of the danger, had kissed so everyone in the shop could see. Right when Seamus and his family were about to leave the shop.

Kissed. Just like that. Apparently you could do that? Not in front of Seamus’s mother, though, which these two had learnt the hard way.

“I don’t see what the problem is. Why would you have issues with me kissing my boyfriend?” Fortescue’s boyfriend, a very tall man with striking, multicoloured eyes and elegantly styled blond hair, was staring at Seamus’s mother with a new intensity.

“You and your partner can kiss as much as you wish. End up in Hell where you belong, I don’t care!” His mother’s face grew redder for every word she spat. “But don’t you dare do it in front of my son and ruin him!”

“Oh. I see.” The blond man raised a sharp eyebrow and shook his head, slowly, looking as if he was genuinely sorry for the woman in front of him. “You’re one of those… religious people?”

“Yes.” She straightened her back, looking proud of herself as she put a firm hand on Seamus’s shoulder. He couldn’t stop himself from shuddering slightly. Fortescue’s gaze sharpened, and Seamus froze. Had the man noticed his uneasiness?

“Hm. Best we leave you and your son alone then.” Fortescue turned around to give his boyfriend another small peck on the lips. “Don’t you think so too, Gus?”

Seamus felt his mother’s grip tighten on his shoulder.

“How dare you?”, she spluttered furiously, and Seamus flinched as she turned around and tried to block his view of the two men. “That is nothing but disrespectful!”

“Oi!” The blond man stopped smiling instantly. “Watch it with your son! Can’t you see he’s uncomfortable by you making a scene?”

“Don’t you tell me how to behave around my own son!” She pointed a finger at his chest. “He’s uncomfortable seeing you two being inappropriate in public! Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

Seamus tried to hide how terrified he was. He took a deep breath.

“I don’t mind, mum.”

There was silence. Fortescue smiled at him.

“He’s- he’s being ridiculous”, was all his mother could manage at first. When she inhaled loudly to keep yelling, Seamus spoke up again.

“I said, I don’t mind, mother.”

“Sea, darling, I know you’re shaken-“

“Stop it!” His words made his mother shut up, only for a moment, but that was all he needed. “I’m tired of you speaking about gay people like that! Leave them alone, mom. They did nothing to you. I did nothing to you!”

“Excuse me.” Another voice cut through the silence after Seamus was done shouting. “I didn’t expect meeting you here. And certainly not like this.”

“Oh my- Diana!” Seamus saw his mother turn around and lift her hands to her chest. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“Wish I could say the same.” His mother’s old friend, Diana Thomas, was standing behind them. She looked absolutely furious, but Seamus paid no attention to her as soon as he saw who was standing next to her.

“Dean.” His voice was a bit hoarse after yelling so much.

“Sea…” Oh, his voice was still soft as ever. Before he knew what he was doing, Seamus was standing next to his friend, holding his head low again. Dean put an arm wound his shoulders, and as their mothers continued a heated discussion, Dean whispered in his ear:

“Are you okay?”

No, no he wasn’t. But maybe he would be.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Seamus swallowed. “When she’s talking like that about… about gay people, I know she’s talking about you too. Even though you like girls as well as boys. It’s kind of the same thing.”

“It’s worse for you”, Dean whispered, his breath on Seamus’s neck. “She’s talking about you too, isn’t she? Bet she doesn’t know though.”

Seamus’s head snapped up. He didn’t know what to say, so all he did was put his arms around Dean and bury his face in his friend’s shoulder.

“How- how did you…” The words came out before he could even think about what to say. “How did you know? I didn’t tell you. I was scared, Dean, I was scared, I couldn’t tell you and I’m sorry because out of all people I know you’d be understanding-“

“Shut up, arsehole.” Dean chuckled lightly, still with his mouth next to Seamus’s ear. “I’ve known for a while. It was quite obvious. Why didn’t you tell me your mom was homophobic?”

“My dad too.” Seamus swallowed again.

“Should probably have guessed this, considering they’re both Christian. Oh Merlin.”

“I don’t want to go back home.”

“You won’t.”

And he didn’t. Because minutes later, Mrs Finnigan had left the ice-cream shop, still fuming after being told off by both the owner of the shop and her best friend for scaring her own child like that.

“Hey, kiddo.” The blond man who Fortescue had called Gus put a hand on Seamus’s shoulder a few minutes later. “I took your ice-cream from you when you were busy with your… friend over here. It was melting, so I got you a new one. Or, Florean did.” He handed over a new ice-cream to Seamus, and one for Dean too. “It’s on the house.”

“I’m sorry for what my mom said.”

“Don’t be, kiddo.” The man smiled at him. “She doesn’t understand love the way I, Florean and you do.”

Seamus gaped.

“And me”, Dean said, sounding slightly offended.

“Yeah, kiddo number two, I figured.” The man chuckled. “I counted you both into that “we”. People like us come in packages of two, if we’re lucky enough.”

Seamus frowned, slightly confused. Dean rolled his eyes at the look on his best friend’s face.

“Even luckier if we both live in the same house, which we’ll do from now on!” Dean laughed. “You hear that, Sea? We’ll live together all year now! We’ll have to get another bed to my room, or, or I can sleep on a mattress. Mum, can I sleep on a mattress?”

“Not so fast, young man.” Mrs Thomas looked at him with her arms crossed. “No boys in your room, especially not behind closed doors.”

“Mum!”

While Dean and his mum discussed, Fortescue, or Florean as his boyfriend had called him, came to join Seamus and Gus. He winked at Seamus.

“He likes you back, kid”, he said, as if he knew exactly how confused Seamus was. Wait, was he that obvious?

Wait, what had the man even said to him?

“He… what?” Seamus felt his cheeks turn red.

Both men chuckled.

“You’re both welcome back to our shop for free ice-cream any time, isn’t that right, August?” Florean leaned closer and whispered: “Don’t kiss too much, though. Not in public. It’s gross.”

Seamus nodded silently, still flushed. He looked over at Dean, and Dean looked back at him with a wide smile. His dimples showed, like they only did when he was really happy, and his eyes sparkled in a way that made Seamus’s brain go fuzzy.

“Eat your ice-cream now, kiddo, and stop staring. It’s very obvious.”

Seamus didn’t know if he should thank the man or slap him, but to be honest, slapping a complete stranger who just offered you free ice-cream whenever you wished to have it didn’t seem like a very good idea.

[theunknownmasks]

And something did shift in his eyes and mood. "Of course. Let me correct you Pharaoh.. Mana hurt me you recall she tore out my eye. She attacked first. believe what you will. I never hurt her. Love me? as if that some twisted joke. Again you said this before .. and i warned you not to say that to me again you KNOW HOW I felt. why did it have to be you. that i fell for."

Fuck...he was trying to not bring up the past. Not like this anyways. He simply wanted to say no matter what had been said and done between them all, that he still felt the way he did. It was coming to blow up in his face.

"Thief..that's not what I'm trying to say, I know this but we've had a lot of...issues between all of us. I didn't mean physically. I meant that we've all hurt each other in some way..and no matter what.." He felt like the energy between them had passed so he was dropping it. With a light shake of his head. "Nevermind..it's not important. I'm sorry, Thief. I never meant to bring that up. If you..need some time alone just say it I'll go." He was shutting down as he always did as a pharaoh.

Those words stung hearing it from him. More than he led on as he held back the pain in his heart and the tears that wanted to leave him. He held it all in and took a breath.

It was like a light switch that he had to flick off to turn it all off. No matter how much that hurt.

"I'm sorry..that you love a man like me."

[octoling-wearing-gauges]

will the real lars fans please stand up

[wishfulsketching]

The monsters are out and proud

[iwriterobots]

[jadewritesficshere]

Thinking about Eddie Munson who was complaining to the rest of the band about his shoulders and neck hurting post show. One of them convinces him to go for a massage.

Eddie shows up day of and is told to strip to level of comfort and get under the sheets laying on his back, his masseuse will knock before coming in. Eddie has not an ounce of care or shame, strips completely naked. Scars and tattoos on full display. He climbs between the sheets and waits. After knocking and hearing a "come in", his masseuse enters and-

The most handsome man he's ever seen walks in. A bit of stubble on his defined jaw, soft pale lips Eddie wants to kiss, big brown eyes Eddie wants to get lost in, slutty little waist and an ass Eddie could-

He introduces himself as Steve. Verifies where Eddie had said his tension was on the form he hastily filled out. Then it starts.

And maybe, maybe, Eddie is a bit touch starved. He could have anyone he wants, but they don't want him just his fame. Pushes them all away. Only gets close to his band, but they all are busy and have their own people outside of work.

And Steve is just touching him. Rubbing smooth circles into his temple, down his cheekbones towards his jaw. Pressing on parts of Eddie's face he didn't even realize were tense. It's relaxing.

And Eddie regrets not leaving at least his boxers on to help hide that he's becoming hard. Kind of embarrassing, which makes his dick harder- which, that's a lot to unpack right now-

"Hey, relax man," Steve says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Eddie can see Steve's eyes dart towards the obvious situation," It's natural. Happens to the best of us." "Does it happen to you?" Eddie blurts out. Eddie wants to shove his face in one of these soft plush pillows and scream, but Steve just snorts a laugh and shakes his head at him. Doesn't even respond as he continues the massage.

Eddie tries to hold back his groans as Steve turns his head to the side and rubs his neck into his shoulders. He can feel the tension leave his body slowly. Feel the knots in his muscles release.

Eddie can't, however, hold back the noise he makes when Steve grabs a hold of his hair and tugs it. Eddie's eyes pop open and he stares into Steve's face, who has started blushing. Steve just clears his throat and let's Eddie's hair go before continuing the massage.

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

"Queer-coding" is only useful for a narrow range of media and it'd be great if we could stop using it for literally everything

Here's my problem with it:

The term originated to discuss negative media depictions of cultural stereotypes for LGBTQ people in the United States. It is inherently tied to the conditions of media censorship at play in the USA during the 1900s, with the Hays Code restricting depictions of anything it deemed "immoral."

Now, for whatever reason, people are using it to refer to literally anything they see as "kind of gay."

The term begins with the premise that making the audience see the character as queer is the creator's explicit intention. The creator knows the stereotype, you know the stereotype, so they are using the stereotype to convey to you something they can't say outright.

However, you can see how this goes awry, right?

The second we cross language, cultural, or even generational lines, this gets messy.

What traits are deemed queer? What behaviors or characteristics are seen as gay? The reality is this is a huge spectrum, and every culture has a different relationship with queerness in its history. For that matter, every nation has its own unique issues with censorship. A viewer from the USA may interpret a Japanese character as exhibiting stereotypically gay characteristics, but does that mean the Japanese creator intended it to be taken that way?

But then, if we try to account for what stereotypes Japanese media might use for queer characters to ascertain what the Japanese creator might have intended, we arrive at the same dead-end: the implication that queerness is only really portrayed via (usually negative) stereotypes.

This suggests that if media does not contain enough "clues" to imply a character is queer to the broadest possible audience, a queer reading of their story is out of the question. "Queer-coding" is treated as a metric of validity, a way to "prove" queer interpretations are allowable, yet it is based in stereotypes, censorship, and presumption of authorial intent.

The way queer-coding is continually brought into discussions about art essentially creates an ultimatum: media needs to be "explicit" by using direct (usually English language) terminology, or characters need to engage in things like kissing, declaring one's love, sexual activity, etc., yet even those are dismissed at times.

This creates a dynamic where art which is intentionally subtle or multifaceted may be seen as exhibiting cowardice rather than artistic complexity. It implies that if something is not "confirmed queer," queer themes cannot be read into it, queer subtext cannot be interpreted from it, and queer people are not allowed to identify with it.

This limits art. This builds walls that diminish human connection; it creates a situation where queer people are discouraged from seeing themselves in media not explicitly designated for them. Because, obviously, queer people are a completely different species from "normal people," right? Their feelings and experiences are so alien and distinct, there's no overlap anyone else could sympathize with.

You don't need permission to see queerness in art. You don't have anything to prove. Queer interpretations are just as valid as any other, and anyone who tells you different is selling something.

As I spoke about in this post, authorial intent is not more important than audience perception, and trying to infer the creator's intentions is a fool's errand. Especially in a situation where censorship is supposedly at play, any public statement from a creator could be reasonably disregarded as dishonest, which leaves us alone with ourselves and the work.

Which, by the way, is the only real way anyone experiences art. It's not you and the creator, it's you and the work. When people try to infer authorial intent, they are not discerning real, objective truth. They are sorting available information through a filter of what they consider believable before arriving at a subjective conclusion, which they then project onto a mental image of the creator.

In literary analysis, we select a "lens" through which to view art. This means that we decide to accept certain ideas as given fact and explore what the works says once we look at it that way. For example, we could accept as fact the idea that a number of the core cast are queer in some way. It posits the question: once we dismiss heterosexuality and cisgender identity as the only options, what do we see?

This is an intellectual concept, but the reality is that everybody naturally applies their own lens to art when they view it. This lens is not nearly so rigid or clearly defined, but it is a lens nonetheless, defined by their experiences, values, and individual personality.

I would love for people to stop using the phrase "queer-coding" quite so freely. It centers a need for validation and hinges that on "what the creator intended."

If you want some ideas for different language about this, consider these:

A theme might be queer by exploring broad topics queer people often struggle with, such as secrecy, shame, or self-acceptance.

The subtext of something might be queer in that one could read a double-meaning or deeper implication to the narrative device or scenario.

A work might contain allegory, symbolism, imagery or parallels that could be interpreted with queerness.

I don't think it's interesting to try to "win" by convincing you I personally know what the creator intended. That leaves the art static, unchanging, and lifeless. I would much rather tell you how I personally see the art and why, because that dynamic allows all of us examine the work more deeply.

In the end, it is not an author's edict in some external statement that gives art meaning. It is the audience. Our feelings are what give art meaning, and connecting with other people about what it all means to us is what keeps art alive.

[tempo-takoyaki]

"Have you always looked at me this way?"

[leather-field]

Alternate colors:

[andy-clutterbuck]

RICK GRIMES The Ones Who Live

[faeryaesther]

janniksin ㅡ one look give 'em whiplash

[gods-perfect-idiots]

damn this hyperfixation got HANDS (and claws and fangs to boot)

[quantumfeat72]

i think chara and siffrin would get along!

[fatty4cid]

we’re leaving the planet and you can’t come!

[hplonesomeart]

Here you go fellow gays enjoy some tranquil scenery with the favorite fruity robot ever. Spend a late night chatting with him on a balcony as the laughter rings out in the air. Can’t quite get any better then this