#james and orsino

[genderbinaryisforlosers]

things i am normal about:

not these three

ID (copied from alt): The first image is a drawing of Thomas Hamilton, James McGraw, and Miranda Hamilton in which Thomas (left) kisses James (middle) while Miranda rests her face on James' shoulder as she is stabbed by a silver sword. Miranda grips the sword where it enters her chest while James holds it by the base of the blade, both of their hands bleeding. Miranda's other hand, which has her wedding ring, reaches for Thomas' hand, which rests on James' chest and has a signet ring on his pinky. Thomas' other hand cups James' face. James is the only one with his eyes open, looking conflicted. He is wearing a blue naval uniform and is clean-shaven with a long ponytail. Thomas is clean shaven and wearing a fine green coat. Miranda's hair is in voluminous ringlets and she is wearing a yellow gossamer dress. She is wearing simple makeup and fine earrings and matching necklace. The background is light grey.

The second image is a matching drawing of the same trio ten years later; Thomas Hamilton, James Flint, and Miranda Barlow. In addition to the blood from the sword wounds, Miranda has entry and exit wounds on her head, making blood run down and cover the right side of her neck and shoulder. Flint has a similar looking wound on his head that makes blood run down past his ear into his collar, and a bloody nose. Flint has a shaved head and a goatee beard, and has a gold stud earring. He is wearing a black leather coat and dark shirt, and two silver rings on his ring and pinkie fingers. Miranda is wearing a subtly floral patterned grey dress, and her grey-streaked hair is straight and tied in a bun except for two curls at her cheekbones. She has no makeup on and wears simple earrings. Thomas has greying hair and a scruffy full beard. His cheekbones are further sunken and he has some sunburn on his face and the back of his neck. He is wearing a loose, dirty grey shirt and no rings. The sword is gold. The background is dark grey, and more of the trio is in shadow.

the image it's based on under the cut for anyone unfamiliar

(Audra McDonald, Anne Hathaway, and Raúl Esparza as Olivia, Viola, and Orsino in Shakespeare in the Park's Twelfth Night)

[moonysmoothies]

what the tlh characters favorite shakespeare plays would be

James - Macbeth. I'm totally not projecting here but also it just suits him

Matthew - Either A Midsummer Night's Dream or Twelfth Night (inspired by a conversation I had with @alastairstom). He'd love the aesthetics and drama of both of them, and as for Twelfth Night he's absolutely cried over Antonio ending up alone and has long talks with Lucie about Viola and Orsino.

Thomas - Romeo and Juliet. He seems like a guy who'd stick to the basics (in the sweetest way possible) when it comes to Shakespeare and he also loves the tragic romance.

Alastair - Either Macbeth or Hamlet. The darker dramatic stuff. He'd definitely have long conversations with James about Macbeth. Also the historical plays. Alastair's a huge Shakespeare fan.

Cordelia - Antony and Cleopatra. She's not a huge Shakespeare person but she's a sucker for complex female characters and also likes the historical tie-in.

Lucie - Twelfth Night. She's a Viola and Orsino stan until the day she dies and has definitely written a chapter (or multiple) inspired by them in The Beautiful Cordelia.

Anna - She's not really a Shakespeare person, but if anyone asks she'll say A Midsummer Night's Dream bc of Matthew.

Ari - A Midsummer Night's Dream. No explanation just vibes. She gets Anna to read it buddy read it with her.

Christopher - He's also not a Shakespeare person, but Gabriel's favorite play is King Lear and he had Christopher read it to try and bond with him. It sort of worked and the play just stuck with Christopher and he has a lot of fond memories with his dad from it. It's also just the only Shakespeare play he's read.

Jesse - Hamlet or Romeo and Juliet. He likes the tragedies. He got more into the romance with Romeo and Juliet after he started seeing Lucie. He's probably read all of his plays at least twice over all the years he was a ghost. He doesn't like the comedies as much.

[pers-books]

Full casting has been announced for the RSC’s upcoming production of Twelfth Night, which runs at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon from 5 December 2024 - 18 January 2025.

Joining the previously announced Samuel West (All Creatures Great and Small) as Malvolio and Gwyneth Keyworth (To Kill a Mockingbird, West End) as Viola are Freema Agyeman (Jamie Lloyd’s Romeo and Juliet, West End) as Olivia, and Bally Gill (A Midsummer Night’s Dream, RSC) as Orsino.

Completing the cast are Emily Benjamin as Priest, Norman Bowman as Antonio, George Fletcher as Second Officer/Orsino’s Attendant, Demetri Goritsas as Sir Andrew Aguecheek, Michael Grady-Hall as Feste, Danielle Henry as Maria, Michael Lyle as First Officer/Orsino’s Attendant, Cat McKeever as Sea Captain, Daniel Millar as Fabian, Reece Miller as Orsino’s Attendant, Charlotte O’Leary as Olivia’s Woman, Thom Petty as Curio, Rhys Rusbatch as Sebastian, Joplin Sibtain as Sir Toby Belch, Tom Sowinski as Orsino’s Attendant, and David Whitworth as Valentine.

Director, Prasanna Puwanarajah said: “I’m delighted and honoured to be back in the RSC rehearsal rooms working on this beautiful play with such a terrific company of performers and creative collaborators; some are new to the RSC and some are veterans of the company, some are long-term collaborators of mine and some are exciting and wonderful new creative partnerships. They are a kind, creative, bold and soulful group of artists, and I’m so grateful to Casting Director Matthew Dewsbury, the whole of the RSC Casting Department and to Daniel Evans and Tamara Harvey for their work in putting together this stunning ensemble.”

Joining director Prasanna Puwanarajah in the creative team are set and costume designer James Cotterill, lighting designer Zoe Spurr, composer Matt Maltese, sound designer George Dennis, movement director Polly Bennett, and casting director Matthew Dewsbury CDG.

[transbookoftheday]

How to Get Over the End of the World by Hal Schrieve

Boldly weird, cool, and confident, this YA novel of LGBTQ+ teen artists, activists, and telepathic visionaries offers hope against climate and community destruction. From the National Book Award–longlisted author of Out of Salem.

James Goldman, self-described neurotic goth gay transsexual stoner, is a senior in high school, and fully over it. He mostly ignores his classes at Cow Pie High, instead focusing on fundraising for the near-bankrupt local LGBTQ+ youth support group, Compton House, and attending punk shows with his friend-crush Ian and best friend Opal. But when James falls in love with Orsino, a homeschooled trans boy with telepathic powers and visions of the future, he wonders if the scope of what he believes possible is too small. Orsino, meanwhile, hopes that in James he has finally found someone who will be able to share the apocalyptic visions he has had to keep to himself, and better understand the powers they hold.

How to Get Over the End of the World confirms Hal Schrieve as a unique and to-be-celebrated voice in LGBTQ+ YA fiction with this multi-voiced story about flawed people trying their hardest to make a better world, about the beauty and craziness of hope, about too-big dreams and reality checks, and about the ways in which human messiness—egos, jealousy, insecurity—and good faith can coexist. It also about preserving the ties within a chosen family—and maybe saving the world—through love, art, and acts of resistance.

[starkiddreamcasting]

Starkid Twelfth Night

If music be the food of love, play on! I bring you (and only a little late) the Starkid dreamcast for Twelfth Night! Probably my favorite of the Shakespeare plays I’ve seen and I based the cast off the two productions I’ve watched. Lots of quirky characters to match up with quirky actors though, and I think these are all pretty good picks!

1. Bryce Charles as Viola 2. James Tolbert as Sebastian 3. Joey Richter as Duke Orsino 4. Meredith Stepien as Olivia 5. Joe Moses as Malvolio 6. Rachael Soglin as Maria 7. Dylan Saunders as Sir Toby Belch 8. Curt Mega as Sir Andrew Aguecheek 9. Jae Hughes as Feste 10. Corey Dorris as Antonio 11. Nick Gage as Fabian 12. Jeff Blim as Sea Captain/Priest 13. Hamilton Davis as Curio/Officer 14. Lauren Lopez as Olivia’s Servant/Officer 15. Joe Walker as Valentine/Officer

Understudies: Jeff Blim (Sir Toby Belch, Fabian), Hamilton Davis (Duke Orsino, Sir Andrew Aguecheek), Corey Dorris (Sebastian), Lauren Lopez (Olivia, Maria), Jon Matteson (Feste, Sea Captain/Priest, Curio/Officer, Valentine/Officer), Joe Walker (Malvolio, Antonio), Tiffany Williams (Viola, Olivia’s Servant/Officer)

Make sure to leave any show suggestions or any questions on my casting choices so I can explain them.  

[haaam-guuuurl]

The Next Step Shakespeare AUs

Twelfth Night

featuring:

Piper as Viola

Finn as Orsino

James as Sebastian

[oncasette]

all the boys i’ve loved before

i saw this on tiktok and thought it was cute omg. this is just off the top of my head but <3

A. adrien chase. andrew neiman. alfie solomons. adrian ivashkov.

B. barry allen. bruce wayne. bradley bradshaw. benny miller. benjamin barry.

C. charlie dalton. clark kent. cameron frye. carlisle cullen.

D. daniel larusso. darry curtis. draco malfoy. druig. din djarin. dean di laurentis. duke orsino.

E. eddie munson. eddie brock. eric northman.

F. finnick odair. finn hudson. frankie morales. ferris bueller. fred weasley. frank castle.

G. george weasley. garrett graham.

H. harry potter. hunter davenport.

I.

J. johnny lawrence. javier peña. jj maybank. jason dean. james potter. jack daniels. jim hopper. jake seresin. jesse swanson. johnny castle.

K. knox overstreet. kai parker.

L. luke skywalker. luke castellan.

M. marcus pike. matt murdock.

N. nick bradshaw.

O. oliver wood. obi-wan kenobi.

P. peeta mellark. phil wenneck. peter parker. peter quill. peter hayes. poor heyward. pacey witter. percy jackson.

Q.

R. ronald miller. rafe cameron. rick flag. regulus black. remus lupin. ron weasley. rodrick heffley.

S. stiles stilinski. stuart twombly. steven meeks. sirius black. scott lang. steven strange. steve rogers. seth cohen. stu macher.

T. thomas. topper thornton. theseus scamander. thomas shelby.

U.

V. vinny pazienza.

W. willard hewitt. walt finnegan.

X.

Y.

Z. zemo. zed necrodopolis.

tagging @fleurfairie @lucasnclair @forourmoons @dameronscopilot & anyone that wants to participate!!

[sonderintraffic]

Female:

1. catsettes - Andrea Sachs

2. ditendunk - Anna Scott

3. bubbledgums - Helaena Targaryen

4. tuesd444y - Madison Montgomery

5. Genurines - Nico Minora

6. heav11est - Love Quinn

7. sonderbell - Ruby Bell

8. hospectrum - Melinda Van Allen

9. cotntain - Josephine March

10. beabadoobex - Rosie Dunne

11. capravalley - Elaine

12. mads9skin - Rory Gilmore

13. rofusel - Blair Waldorf

14. roseatelli - Bea Messina

15. lil3luv - Alyssa

16. poompupthejam - Philomena Cunk

17. mauireneee - Madeleine Perez

18. Roguenicolew - Katherine Song Covey

19. brnwnies - Josie

20. Reneigarde - Enid Sinclair

21. caribesik - Elle Woods

22. merceendies - Fransesca Bridgerton

23. buvried - Anora

24. Rheaenyra - Rhaenyra Targaryen

25. Cuirbs - Noah

Male

1. paul6line - Joe Goldberg

2. zerogreavity - Cole Walter

3. conssrt - Peter Parker

4. na8umo - Gale Cleven

5. snqggle - Theseus Scamander

6. heirapparen - Neil Perry

7. 376black - James

8. ocH9zAieG41063 - Duke Orsino

9. Desseuwt - Min Ho

10. danyapmainrp - Daemon Targaryen

11. kiwinyasatu - Robbie Turner

12. ha_ha_yes - Henry Hayes

13. BrahhimDiaz - Harvey Specter

14. ofthelouvre - John Egan

15. ihanbonekdo - Sherlock Holmes

16. BellatorJack - James Beaufort

17. Shreksuals - J. Moriarty

18. naemify - Cameron Tucker

[lids-flutter-open]

gay goth boy trans ftm4ftm story chapter 4 under cut. 

content warning: f*g used by gays in punk songs/underage substance use

Chapter 4

Goat Mansion already had a lot of people sitting outside when I got there, which was way too early. The sun was still on the edge of the horizon. I parked my car two streets away, since I don’t like being a designated driver for more than my friends. I walked over to the house, approaching from the street side, and saw the gaggle of people from half a block away. They were sitting on the sidewalk and gathered in a little circle near the fence that divides Goat Mansion space from the edge of the public lands by the train tracks. The teenage goth kids were fraternizing with some crust punks and some people who might have been homeless teenagers from the group that lives in the train tunnel downtown. I didn’t recognize anyone, which made sense because OVID was coming from out of town so probably brought out different fans. One of the teenage goth kids had a thing of cheap boxed red wine but had taken the wine bag out of the box and was passing it around to her friends, having everyone chug, shouting BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD. One of the girls with her let the wine overflow her mouth and run down to soak into her black mesh shirt. They were all about my age or a little younger. I thought it looked like fun, but I don’t like drinking, so I didn’t get too close as I made my way around the house to the back. I knew people would be starting a bonfire. 

Bonfires in late summer are hard, because lately there’s been a burn ban for longer and longer into the autumn. This September, there hadn’t been enough rain to totally put everyone in the clear. And nobody wants to start a wildfire. But Goat Mansion has a rock pit that’s pretty big, and it’s easy to put out the fire with sand and water if it gets too much or starts sparking. When I got there, Acorn was piling the logs up and working with a piece of flint to spark it. Xie doesn’t use any gasoline because, again, too much risk for a big burn that gets out of control. 

“Hey,” I said to Acorn. “Seen anyone from Rocketpizza yet?”

Acorn turned. “Oh, hey, James,” xie said. Xie nodded hir head towards the sliding doors at the back of the house. “Just Ian. I think he was with Ken earlier, but Ken said something about 4Lokos and walked to the store and hasn’t come back.”

“Who’s buying Ken 4Lokos? That sounds like a bad start to the night,” I said. “Has anyone here brought up that sober space thing they’re trying at Fleur’s North? Suggested having a sober only show sometimes?”

“No, we’ve always kinda been a party house. Not likely to change. Somewhere needs to be messy. People don’t like it, they move. Why?”

“There’s definitely some visible and intense public underage drinking happening out front right now.”

“Shit,” Acorn said. “Is it those goth kids?” Xie pushed hir hair out of hir eyes. Acorn has really long hair and a beard that increases in both length and glossy volume every time I see hir.�� Xie wears mascara to shows. Tonight xie had on a Carly Rae Jepsen shirt and a plaid skirt. 

“Yeah,” I said. “Nobody from Compton, but definitely under eighteen. You want me to go tell them to come back here and be more discreet?”

“Just like, get them some water and tell them to chill. They’re gonna pass out before the show even starts, or start moshing and hurting someone. I hate when there’s too many teens at shows. No offense,” xie added. “I forget you’re a teen because you’re chill.”

“I don’t drink much. If I did I’d probably be rowdier. It is a teen band tonight. Or like, two, actually. With Quince Quest.”

“Maybe I’ll make some food and cultivate a chill pre-show vibe and get some calories in the kids. Some bread. It’s not that I don’t want them to enjoy music.” Acorn prodded the little fire that was starting in the pit. “Just like, read the agreements for the space that we put on all the doors of the space, you know?”

The agreements, for Goat Mansion, on all the doors, were as follows:

NO NAZIS OR RAPISTS.

DO NOT fucking come to a show looking to start a fucking fight. 

NO COPS

Don’t get fucking wasted before 10 PM. 

Don’t touch anyone without asking

NO SMOKING OR DRINKING ON THE STOOP. Come to the backyard.

DO NOT MESS AROUND ON THE STREET! Come to the backyard.

IF YOU MAKE A MESS HELP CLEAN IT.

IF THERE IS NO TOILET PAPER, OR THE TOILET FLOODS, PLEASE YELL FOR ASSISTANCE. DO NOT SNEAK AWAY. 

FOR REAL ABSOLUTELY NO DRINKING OR SMOKING ON STOOP. FOR REAL. THERE IS A BACKYARD.

It was a pretty concise list that covered most things that anyone cared about. And it was pretty easy to follow, though of course I had no way of knowing if any nazis or rapists ignored the first bullet point. 

I went around the corner of the house and into the kitchen. I filled a big old plastic pitcher that seemed relatively clean with tap water and grabbed a sleeve of plastic cups from under the sink. I knew where everything was here, even though I didn’t have any friends who lived here any more except Acorn. Last year I had been the one to clean the kitchen for the first time in a decade and stock it with plastic cups. If you don’t have cups everyone ends up drinking out of the tap like dogs or just getting disgustingly dehydrated. 

“Hey,” I called to the goth kids, stepping out on the front porch, “You all look like you might need some water soon.”

“Thanks,” the mesh shirt girl said. 

“You’re starting early. Can you bring the party around back? We don’t like annoying neighbor people too much. They call the cops sometimes,” I said. “There’s more room back there, too.” I felt okay bossing them because none of the goth kids would have the nerve to question the authority of someone who was wearing safety pin earrings like they were. 

“No problem,” the girl holding the blood bag of wine said. She giggled to her friends, probably about how messy they were being. 

I sat around with the goths by the smoking baby bonfire and smoked a bowl alone before I saw Ian. He was walking quickly around the corner of the house, looking like the human embodiment of that cat meme where the cat is grimacing. I got up and jogged after him. 

“What’s the deal with Ken?” I asked, catching him by the elbow. “Heard he like left and didn’t come back?”

“Don’t fucking ask,” Ian said. He had glitter makeup on, which I thought was cute, if a little 2012. He looked really good. “Ken’s fucking gone as far as I’m concerned. Which is whatever. We knew this day was coming.”

“Wait, Rocketpizza is still performing, right?”

“Yeah,” Ian said. “Some kid from Centralia who’s playing drums for Quince Quest is here, she said she’d do drums for me.  We went over the basic stuff with the songs earlier. She can’t be any worse than Ken would be. He was getting plastered at noon when I went over there today. I have no idea where he is.”

“Dude, that fucking sucks,” I said. 

“I mean, you guys were all absolutely correct about him. I’m stressed right now but I’ll be fine.”

“Where’s swimmer boy?”

“We broke up.”

“Shit, dude.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it. I’ll process with you tomorrow.”

“You need help with merch?”

“Yes, absolutely. Later, though. No point right now. After the show. Right now we’re doing music setup shit since we’re on first.”

“At least you’ll have a crowd.”

“These druggy Seattle kids?” Ian rolled his eyes.

“They’re just drunk. I’m working on hydrating them.”

The sun was going down, and more people were arriving. I put Ian’s merch in a taped up box underneath the table by the door that had been set up to collect people’s pay-what-you-can donations to Goat Mansion. I wanted to talk to him more, but it was clear that wasn’t gonna happen. I sat with the table. Acorn was drawing smiley faces on the hands of people who paid. People who didn’t pay and didn’t get smiley faces wouldn’t get kicked out, but they might get snarked at by someone if they were being obnoxious and they wouldn’t be allowed to drink any house alcohol. Everyone expected the show to start one to three hours after the posted start time, but everyone turned up at the time on the posters anyway to smoke or catch up with people or drop their backpacks and walk eighteen blocks away to the store to buy beer. The sun slanted through the windows like liquid gold and someone put a VHS of Fire Walk With Me on in the living room, where it already smelled like cigarettes. It was all cis men in there, who seemed like they all knew each other and might be shitheads, so I stayed outside once the merch was set up. Everyone in the backyard was vivid shades of gold and pink and brown against the bright green of the trees. The smoke was rising more and more out of the fire pit. That was when I saw the guy from King David’s. Orsino. He was getting out of a pickup truck.

His hair was still fucked up and wispy orange and crackly from bleach, and he had a fucked up little mustache still, but he was wearing a different stupid shirt. This one was black, had a big gray alien head on it, and it said ROSWELL. It was tighter around his chest and stomach and arms than the dolphin shirt had been at the diner. He was wearing ripped up pants that terminated just below his knee. They looked like they’d been chewed by dogs. His calves were thick and covered in dark hair. He had on hiking boots with wool socks. He didn’t see me. As soon as he got out of the car, he turned back and started talking to someone on the driver’s side of the car. He was still somewhere between pretty hot and extremely hot. 

I saw the person get out on the other side of the car and realized that it was Jukebox. Jukebox had a guitar case with them and stuck around for just a second before heading into the garage, where I knew that Ian was setting up. Orsino said something to them and then walked toward the house, lighting a cigarette as he went.

I wondered what Orsino’s personality was like. I didn’t know Orsino at all. But I felt something about him already—something sort of like what Therese feels for Carol when she first sees Carol in The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith or Carol (2015). When her eyes go wide and she knows it doesn’t matter what happens next, because the important thing has already happened. She’s seen her. Or maybe that was dramatic, but like, I was a little stoned. I wondered if I should go say hi. 

“James!” Opal shouted at me from across the yard. 

I looked over to see Opal and Barb and Goober coming towards me, accompanied by a dude I didn’t know. Opal was wheeling their chair over the mangled grass. I hoped that there weren’t any nails around that might puncture the tires.

“Oh hey,” I said, waving. 

“Jamie!” Barb rushed in and gave me a hug. She has pink short hair and lots of sun freckles and deep wrinkles around her eyes. If you ignore her skin, she looks like she’s about sixteen. She’s always sort of manic and I think she’s really smart but you probably have to wait until four in the morning for her to start talking about smart people things. She reminds me of a version of my mom that took up dance and punk music and boxing instead of becoming a teacher. 

“This is Duke,” Opal said, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the man. I looked up at him. He didn’t look trans. He had a really curly head of long back hair and a thick beard and a lot of tattoos and smiley eyes. He looked like a biker that a country singer would date.

“Sup,” Duke said. “Nice to meet you.”

“You’re meeting everyone tonight,” Goober said, throwing her blond hair over one shoulder. “James works at Compton House too, with the teen council thing.”

“Hey Duke,” I said. “Nice to meet you. You like OVID?” I gave him a man handshake, with a firm grip. He looked like he would respect that.

“Yeah, since they got started I’ve come to almost every show,” Duke said. “Me and Stacey go way back.”

“Barb used to date Stacey, right?” I asked. “Is that how you guys know each other?” I wasn’t going to allude to the fact that Barb and Duke were fucking. 

“Kind of,” Barb said. She sat down on a stump next to me. “I love that we’re all here at this show together. I feel a great kind of continuity.” She grinned up at Duke, who looked at her with the most disgustingly lovey gaze I have ever seen in this world. I looked at Opal, who shrugged. 

“You seen Ian yet?” I asked Opal. 

“No. What’s up?” Opal could tell in my voice that something was wrong. 

“Ken is drunk somewhere and Ian is gonna do the show with a replacement drummer,” I said. 

“What? Who?”

“Some kid from the other band. Quince Quest.”

“The fuck he is. I’m gonna drum for him. I have to join his band,” Opal said. They started rolling their chair backward and pivoting it toward the garage.

“Maybe later,” I said. “Not tonight. He’s stressed. Swimmer boy troubles. Drummer troubles. Too much. He’ll snap at you.”

“I know his songs, dude,” Opal said. “I know he’s stressed, but I can do it better than a quince kid. I’ve been practicing on the drums at Barb’s.” 

“Do you need help getting to the garage?” I asked. There was a lot of gravel between here and there.

“I’m good, dude.” Opal turned away from me, and I felt a little abandoned.

“Do you want backup?”

“Let them go talk to him,” Goober said. “You’ll be all touchy feely and Opal will just boss him. That’s what he needs.”

“You said it,” Opal yelled over their shoulder. 

Duke turned to me. His eyes were irrepressibly crinkly. “So James. Barb talks about you and Opal and Compton House all the time. How long have you been on the Compton House teen council? What do you think of it?”

I shrugged. I didn’t want to give this guy too much of a leg up on the competition if he was really applying to be director. “I mean, it’s very important. We did an awareness training for a church two weeks ago about mental health and teens. I feel like I’m connected to local politics and stuff, even if it means I know the dirt about everyone.”

Barb laughed. 

“You remind me of me. I was involved in the first committee for Ladyfest when it happened here in 2000,” Duke said. “I was on security. I sat in on all the meetings for planning.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “Continuity.” 

I looked away from Duke and Barb, hoping they’d see someone they knew and go talk to them. 

***

It was two hours later when word spread slowly through the mass of people that the show was starting. The sun had gone down and I had three mosquito bites, even though it should have been too cold. There was standing water in one of the barrels behind Goat Mansion, and that always meant the mosquitos survived longer here than anywhere. Everyone but me was getting drunk. I hadn’t gotten any closer to Orsino, though he’d caught my eye just before everyone went down to the garage and crowded in through the single side door. I thought I saw him smile, but I could have been wrong. 

The room was dark and ugly and packed. There are lights on the stage and then a tangle of wires near the stage that some fire safety expert was supposed to probably evaluate at some point after the Ghost Ship fire, but I don’t think it ever happened. There’s a lot of random piles of shit near the door that should be a main point of egress, and people sit on it like it’s benches at a ball game. It’s definitely not structurally stable. The lights that shine down on the tiny little stage are beautiful. Tonight there was pink and red gels over them, so it looked like a sex party or a weird pretty Hell. 

Ian was wearing his fishnet arm wraps, a lot of glitter, and Goober’s leather miniskirt that that she’d worn to Pride in June. His wrists were covered in bangles. His chest was bare. His hair was sort of flopping over his face. He was fumbling with a lot of wires onstage. Opal was behind the drums. I hadn’t actually heard Opal play before, since they’d only started after they moved to Barb’s house. I didn’t know if they were good or not, but I guessed that they might be if they were going up. Opal was pretty clear-headed and wouldn’t put themselves on the spot if they thought they’d fail. Devon had on his normal clothes and looked pissed as fuck, but he was tuning his bass just the same. 

“ROCKETPIZZA!!!!!” Barb yelled. Some of the goths yelled too, as did the cis men who had been watching a movie inside. There were suddenly a lot of people around me, and I was worried about my feet getting stepped on by the dudes with the steel toed boots. I’m not dumb enough to wear non-sturdy footwear to a show, but I’m small.

Ian looked into the crowd, squinting. I don’t know if he knows Barb’s voice well enough to recognize a screech. He dropped some wires and stepped to the mic. 

“HEY BITCHES AND BABES AND FAGGOTS,” he yelled into the crowd. His voice got soft on the last word. There was a mix of cheers and uncomfortable muttering. Ian was oblivious to the latter. “HOW ARE YOU DOING?”

Barb and Duke both bellowed at the stage, incoherent jumbled exuberance. Old punks at least know how to bellow. 

“I’LL TELL YOU HOW I’M DOING,” Ian yelled into the mic, which twanged painfully over the speakers. “MY BOYFRIEND AND I JUST BROKE UP AND I LOST MY OLD DRUMMER BECAUSE HE IS A DUMBASS.”

There were some confused boos and apologetic noises, particularly from the goths near the front of the stage. All the teen goths were pretty far gone. I saw one of them swaying in her heels.

“BUT THAT IS OKAY,” Ian continued. “ROCKETPIZZA DIED TONIGHT. I LOOK GREAT. OPAL LOOKS GREAT ON DRUMS. GIVE IT UP FOR OPAL.”

I yelled at the top of my lungs, feeling like it was a kind of weird ecstatic prayer. The guy with a beard next to me moved away from me in surprise.

“WE ARE A NEW GROUP NOW. OUR NAME IS MISS SAN JUAN AND THE DUSTIES. YOU’RE HERE TO WITNESS THE BIRTH OF A GOOFY NEW QUEERCORE BAND. ISN’T THAT EXCITING?”

Ian was good at riling up a crowd. People were getting more interested in this seventeen year old twink yelling at them. 

“ALSO YOU WILL PROBABLY WITNESS THE DEATH OF MY VOCAL CHORDS BECAUSE I AM ABOUT TO SCREAM MY GUTS OUT. THIS IS A NEW SONG. IT IS CALLED FOOLSLUT IN RETROGRADE.” Ian shook his head and smiled and blinked in the way that had made me fall sort of in love with him when we were fifteen. 

The drunk baby goths went hog wild, and I screamed at the top of my lungs again and whistled through the gap in my teeth, like my grandmother had taught me to do when I was five.

Then Ian opened his mouth to sing. 

(insert here: a piece of torn notebook paper, with the title: FOOLSLUT IN RETROGRADE LYRICS)

THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA SHAKE ME 

FROM THE POOL OF BLACK INK

ATOP YOUR FIRE ESCAPE

I BREATHE IN THE STINK

OF YOUR SMELLY BALLS

I FEEL NOTHING AT ALL 

THE PLANETS WERE ALIGNED

NOW WE’RE BADLY COMBINED

SOLO QUIERO LLEVAR TUS BRAGAS

SOLO QUIERO TOCAR TU BOCA

SOLO QUIERO TENER TUS LLAGAS

PARA TERMINAR ESTA EPOCA

I’M IN PAIN I’M INSANE

WE ARE SMASHING THE WORLD

I’M IN PAIN I’M INSANE

YOUR DEPRESSED BITCH GIRL

BOY 

SHUT UP YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING

BOY

SHUT UP YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING

FILL MY MIND WITH SMOKE 

SMOKE IT IN YOUR BONG

GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE

SO LONG SO LONG

WE DON’T WANT IT OR NEED IT

I NEED YOU TO BEAT IT

END THE WORLD

END THE WORLD

END THE WORLD

FUCK 

(end paper)

When Ian’s set ended fifteen minutes later, the pit had fully opened up. 

People were swaying and had been punching and pushing into each other. I’d gotten slammed against the wall twice and had been shoved into someone’s armpit four times. Which was like, not normal for an opening band. Usually people just stood awkwardly staring with their PBRs in their hands, rocking a little or jamming their heads if the band was good. But some combination of everyone already being wasted and of Opal’s drumming—which was actually really good—and of Ian jumping fully into the air…everyone got electrified somehow. I felt my B.O swelling up toward the ceiling with everyone else’s and the heat from us all supercharging the air like it was some kind of ancient magically charged sweat house made of old cedar in the deep wilderness of the Russian steppe. Ian’s glitter was dripping down his chest in waves. I felt my own shirt soaking with the sweat. My lungs hurt from yelling, and I was reeling still. I watched Ian turn and unplug his amp and walk offstage just before the crush of bodies trying to get out into the cold air totally obscured my view of him. I tried to keep my head above the crowd, thanking god that I wasn’t super sensitive to noise, smells, or sensory overstimulation.

“That was incredible,” a voice behind me said. I didn’t recognize it. I turned slightly. Jukebox January was behind me, smiling. Their chin hairs were darker than I remembered them.  They were shorter than me. They had smudged pink eyeliner in one long band around their eyes. Their shirt was torn so I could see one of their nipples through the fabric.

“Yeah,” I said. “It got so hot in here so fast. We gotta wait a bit for the air to cool down before yours, huh.”

“That set!” Jukebox exclaimed. “Like, that was phenomenal! So good and raw but also like, they’re real! They’re so good. We gotta get this kid a record deal so fast if he wants to sell out! He’s your friend, right?”

I smiled. I felt so happy for Ian. He loved OVID. Tonight had been hard, but it was going to turn out so good for him.  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m James. We go to school together. I’ve known him a long ass time. He’s so good.”

“What’s going on with the band?” Jukebox asked. Their teeth were all showing in their smile. “Some shuffling stuff? Do you think the current situation will hold together? They literally sounded so so good.”

“I literally don’t even know,” I said. “But he loves you, he loves OVID. Like he and his  followed you to the Gorge this summer and then down to the Bay when you were on tour. You should talk to him.” I was glad I was able to be so chill when my heart was pounding into my ears from the adrenaline. 

“Let’s go,” Jukebox said. “I gotta touch base with my bandmates in a second but I wanna give him props. What’s his full name? Does he go by Miss San Juan? Or she?”

“Ian,” I said. “Ian Arroyo. And he uses he/him, at least for now.”

“Cool. What about you?”

“James,” I said. I led Jukebox out into the yard. The cool night air with the smell of decay and everything hit my skin and my mouth all at the same time. It was a second before I saw Ian over by the truck with Opal in the dark. Opal was smoking, and Ian was moving something in the bed of the truck. I screamed loud and high pitched as we got close so he could hear me. 

“That was incredible, bitch!” 

Ian turned. He smiled weakly. “I’m so so so shaking,” he yelled back. His bare chest was getting goosebumps in the cold. He was so beautiful. 

“Look who I brought,” I yelled, thrusting a thumb back at Jukebox, who lifted a hand in greeting. Ian stood up immediately. He leapt over the side of the truck bed to land on both feet in the gravel in front of us. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“Hey,” Jukebox said. “That was incredible. I wanted to make sure you knew. I’m Jukebox.”

“I know,” Ian said. “I can’t wait for your set. I’m so so tired but I’m gonna stay here till the end.”

“I literally haven’t ever played drums live before,” Opal said.

“You were great for all that,” Jukebox said.

I turned away from them and turned toward the bonfire. I tried to make out through the dark who was still here that I knew. People were dancing a little near the fire and there was a cluster of lit cigarette ends floating in the shadows just beyond my field of vision.

“Come hang out with me,” Jukebox was saying to Ian. “My friends are over here. My girlfriend Robin was loving your set too, but she has issues with moshing so had to step out when it got intense. Someone threw a bottle and it nearly hit her.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Opal said. 

We moved over toward the patch of the yard where Jukebox’s friends were. I could smell the smoke and the blackberries and the wood and sweat and smoke and I felt like I was still on some kind of crazy high. Orsino was sitting there, like I knew he would be. There was a space next to him on the log he was sitting on. He looked up and smirked at me and I sat down next to him without a second thought. 

[oliver-chris]

Thanks to National Theatre at home! This blog exists because of this great initiative.

[ronnola]

I would love to see that Feste! @lost-spook - maybe at least a photo exists?..

[ao3feed-jily]

What You Will

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/ZQ4xbIY

by Kris678

Marauders Twelfth Night AU?? James as Orsino and Lily as Olivia? And Regulus as Viola?? Don't you forget Snape as Malvolio, Sirius as Sebastian and Remus as his "friend" Antonio (oh yeah, you bet I'm getting on that). This is an absolute fever dream, my friends, but that's twelfth night, right???

Words: 739, Chapters: 1/18, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Multi

Characters: James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and the rest of the gang, Horace Slughorn, Albus Dumbledore, Poppy Pomfrey, Severus Snape

Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black/James Potter, Regulus Black/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Shakespeare, Twelfth Night - Freeform, Written as a play, How do I tag that, butchering shakespearean classics, making the queerest shakespeare play even queerer, seriously how do I tag this, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Parody

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/ZQ4xbIY

[oliver-chris]

Yes! Plus Emma., Trying, Silent Witness and some random photos :)

Oliver Chris: Master of the side-eye

[capeshifters]

bold your muses preferences. repost, don’t reblog!

Tagged by: @orsino-the-enchanter thank you”

Adam Hawke

roses / cherry blossoms / orchids / tulips

winter / summer / autumn / spring

thunderstorms / sunshine / snow

indoors / outdoors

meat / fruit / sweets (fruit IS sweets, right)

extravagance (as a treat) / traditionalism / minimalism

god fearing / non god fearing

cats / dogs  / horses / birds

sunrise / sunset

day time / night time

fire / earth / water / wind

reading / writing

rising early / sleeping late

wine / ale / neither

fur / silk / satin / lace

rubies / pearls / sapphires

horse back / walking / carriages

love / power

having company / being alone 

lakes / rivers / oceans

knife / sword / bow / poison / staff

gold / silver

tagging : @thebloodychampion for carolus, @scarred-by-monsters for Matty and @agentjadelance for Jade and @justasimplesecretary for James

[shakespearenews]

Rob Weinert-Kendt, editor-in-chief, American Theatre

I sent these along as examples to all those I sought answers from, with admittedly much stronger emphasis on the “who” I’d like to see than the reason why I’d like to see these particular two plays again; neither have been scarce on our stages, I would say with good reason. I chose them primarily because they’re personal favorites I happen to have worked on or appeared in, and hence know better than just about any other two plays in the literature. Also, as I never tire of seeing them, I will eagerly return to whatever theatre can stage them in whatever future time it’s possible, even if they can’t quite line up these actors.

Twelfth Night by Shakespeare

Olivia: Elizabeth Stanley Viola: Phillipa Soo Orsino: Lance Reddick Malvolio: Matthew Macfadyen Sir Toby: Jon Hoche Aguecheek: Philip James Brannon Feste: Andrew R. Butler Maria: Bonnie Milligan

[tortoisesshells]

Esteemed Madam! ⭐ for their dance at the ball, please?

Equally Esteemed and Honorable Madam, you may indeed ask, for that Sequence remains a Particular Favorite of mine.

(let me preface this by admitting there was a brief moment of insanity where I thought, huh, I wonder if I should stick the ball on the Garland for the hell of it before realizing that would never work, logistically, and having both learned to polka and tried to teach the fundamentals of contra dancing on the deck of a tall ship during one of the less mis-spent parts of my youth, I really couldn’t imagine where you’d safely stick more than one or two sets at a time. so that went by the board, with me sadly mourning a sequence that would have been impossible but also deeply Aesthetique.)

The Dance! This started as an Austen pastiche, and by golly, The Dance had to happen and it had to be good. At one point, The Dance was going to be the minuet, but since Nellie’s opening a ball for the first time in her life, she’s more concerned with dancing flawlessly than interesting banter. And given that Lieutenant Nibley’s recent actions have made the squadron even more controversial, Norrington’s got to be very careful here, too. So, not much room for revelations or revealing conversations - scratch that, and back to the drawing board, until I hit on the much-later-in-the-ball sequence.

There’s a particular dance I had in mind for this, and for a few different reasons: Mr. Beveridge’s Maggot. First, it appears in a 1695 edition of Playford’s The Dancing Master, so I felt okay using it in a 1738 ball. Second, this is an Austen pastiche, and a version of this dance features at the Netherfield Ball in the ‘95 P&P. Third, “maggot” doesn’t actually refer to larvae, but a whimsy or a fancy (obsolete definitions sure are fun!) - but the double meaning allowed me to stick in an atrocious pun AND a probably-obnoxious allusion to Viola-as-Cesario’s speech to Orsino in The Twelfth Night (which Norrington referenced earlier anyway) about Viola-as-Cesario’s imaginary sister, who would not express her love, and died from the grief it gave her. Surely a speech about love from someone pretending to be someone they aren’t has nothing whatsoever to do with the plot! Surely said speech being about the hazards of bottling up one’s emotions is not relevant to Nellie “I can and will avoid my grief and it will absolutely just go away!” Treat and James “if I refuse to acknowledge my emotions I don’t actually have them!” Norrington!

But in all seriousness, I wanted the Dance to give Nellie and Norrington individually a better idea of who the other is, and both of them vaguely refer to parts of their life that helped turn them into the people they’ve become. Norrington alludes to his experience of being brought aboard ship as a five year-old by his father while editing out the terrifying parts; in response, Nellie, who is horrified by the idea of a five year old being intentionally stuck in a place where they could be shot, makes a crack about not being trusted with anything but the most menial of tasks as a girl of five. Nellie doesn’t know about Norrington’s (debatably canonical) abusive father & the time where Jack Sparrow’s own father saved kid!Norrington from drowning (and doesn’t understand why Norrington’s so relieved that the most recent time he’s nearly drowned, he owes a life debt to a “respectable matron”. Irony is a cruel mistress.); Norrington doesn’t quite pay attention enough to wonder why the well-to-do and respected Mrs. Elinor Treat’s childhood included more manual labor than one would have expected if she had married into the same class she was born in.

By the same token, both of them pick up on - but don’t note out loud - something about the other: Nellie realizes partway through that Norrington has painful associations with this particular dance (even if, in his internal narration, he stops short of admitting to himself who he had been dancing with that makes the memory difficult, in the same way that Nellie never uses her late husband’s first name to refer to him), though she doesn’t follow through to wonder why on earth he’s in the set with her now. Norrington, via an observation from Groves (which matches up with a previous encounter with her), picks up on Nellie’s nervous/upset tell while she’s speaking to Mr. Loring, but refrains from admitting as much to her when she asks how he knew she needed an out. And therein lies the problem! The better Norrington knows Nellie, the more of a threat he becomes to her economic survival; the better Nellie knows Norrington, the better equipped she is to try and stay one step ahead of him - although she does have a deep-seated sense that using his grief against him is a bridge she doesn’t want to cross.

And so by the end of it, they’re both greater threats to each other’s goals, though only Nellie is aware of it.

One last thing I realized while re-reading this section! Norrington thinks to himself “the flash of her earrings must have caught his eye” when he realizes Nellie’s in a conversation she wants out of, but doesn’t feel she can prudently escape. This ended up being a dangling reference to a cut segment - initially, Nellie was going to narrate the start of the ball, and Norrington the end of it, and so I had a long section about Nellie getting dressed, where Nellie hesitates to put her earrings in because they were a gift from her late husband. The earrings are pearl drops, which aren’t exactly “flashy” in the same way that, say, gems (real or paste) would have been; implying that Norrington has been paying closer attention to her than either he realizes or is admitting to himself. Whoops.

[send a ⭐ for director’s commentary on fanfic]