#shakespeare but gay
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moldyfairyguts · 6 days ago
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toxic doomed old man yaoi
shakespeare if he was woke
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Iago: God forsake that doltish, doltish man! That he believeth each word to drop from mine own lips as though ‘twere holy writ, blindeth himself in his conceit... God save us all if that moor hadst remain’d powerful as he once was. Was! ‘Tis ever so sweet to speak of him in the past. My hatred for the man doth outlast his brief, fool’s life. Ay, good riddance I say, good riddance. It gives me somewhat to dwell upon, rather than mine own blood seepeth o’er my clothes – and yet, whilst I am so bruised and beaten, the thought dost creep o’er my mind, that I am glad Othello saw me not in such estate... good riddance, I say! And good riddance to his whore of a wife, loyal or nay! I stand triumphant, as I ever was, whilst they both do rot in the ground, many a pace betwixt them. Never have I known a fate more satisfying. If he were to cast me aside, then let him have naught by his side. Yet the question I can but ask myself still, is why doth mine heart ache so? The moor is dead by none but his own doing. Blind was he to mine own worth, casting me off like so. Say not mine hand was unforced. So why doth I ache so?
Were he alive, would he rue it? The fool, to end his own life... could he not be a man? Othello, thou art a fool if thou hear’st me now! By what reason or wit didst thou wed that woman? Did she know thee better than I? Did she know thee more deeply? Doth her devotion put mine years of loyalty to shame? I-
Ay, see me now! Pacing and railing against the walls of this accurs’d cell like a craz’d wretch. Nay, Othello, thou art not here. Good riddance to thee. Thou art dead, I am alive; thus I am the victor.
Yet it doth feel less noble than I had dreamt. There is no crowd to applaud me within these walls. In mine heart there smoulders a fire, yet beneath it lies an emptiness naught can fill. My hunger should have been sated the moment that blade pierc’d his belly, yet instead tis growing more keen as each day doth pass. And without him. Yet pass they do.
Nay, good riddance, The days pass as e’er they did, yet the man who wronged me doth not see their passage – that alone is reason for celebration. Were I free this moment, mayhap I’d travel to the nearest tavern and there proclaim my triumph to all ‘til my voice grew hoarse.
Yet, even as I say it, I dread that the instant I entered, the name “Othello” would lie presuppos’d on my tongue. Oh, heavens, whom do I seek to deceive? There is none but myself here. His name, which stirr’d naught but anger in my heart, used to do the opposite. Speak on, I shall not, for if there aught left to grip save mine hand upon mine wind, it is my dignity. These walls, they crack and whisper – I should know, for I have stood long upon the other side of them. For Othello’s sake, no less.
The fate he met, ‘twas by his own hand wrought. Cassio, his choice? That lecherous, fawning knave? Were I in Othello’s stead, I’d have cast off this mortal coil the moment such a decision was made. And yet, as he hearken’d to mine own supposed crimes, ere he did end his life in such selfish haste, I find myself longing that his reddened face and rueful eye had been set alight for another cause. Mayhaps a more selfish one. That red, perchance warm’d by mine lips upon his.
God, save me! Let some gaoler enter this cell and thrash me senseless for thinking thus, and let mine head be dash’d upon the cold stone floor for that I would not repent.
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translated version for stupid harlots
Iago:
God forsake that stupid, stupid man! Believing every word to come out my mouth like it is the scripture itself, blinding himself with his own ego... god save us all if he was to remain as powerful as he was. Was – it’s ever so satisfying to speak of him in past tense now. My hate  for the man lives longer than he ever did. Good riddance, I say, good riddance. It gives me something to occupy myself with, rather than the way my own blood drips onto my clothes – while I’m beaten, the thought can’t help but enter my mind that I’m glad Othello never saw me like this... good riddance! And good riddance to his whore of a wife, faithful or not! I remain triumphant as always while they both rot in the ground, metres apart forever. I’ve never heard of a more satisfying fate. If he was to choose to not have me by his side, then he will have no one. The question, however, that I can’t help but ask myself, is why do I still ache? That idiot is dead because of no one’s fault but his own. He failed to recognise my worthiness, pushed me to the side like some sort of wingman, you cannot say my hand was not forced. So why do I ache like so?
If he was alive still, would he regret it? The fool, ending his own life like that... be a man! Othello, you moron, if you by any chance of the heavens can hear me now, you are a fool! Why in any sense of sanity you still held onto would you marry that woman? Did she know you better than I? Did she understand you more deeply than I? Did she stay by your side for god knows how long that put my years of loyalty to shame? I-
Look at me now. Pacing and yelling to the walls of this damned grey cell like some sort of deluded psychotic. No, Othello, you are not here. Good riddance. You are dead and I am alive, and  therefore I am the victor.
It feels less admirable than I had imagined it to feel.
There is no applause in this cell for me. There is a fire burning in my heart but just below it, my stomach is empty as it’ll ever be. My appetite should’ve been quenched the second that knife entered his belly but for some reason it’s getting worse as the days pass. Without him, they pass.
No, good riddance. The days pass as they always did and this time a man who has wronged me is not here to see it – that, in my books, is a cause for celebration. Why, if I was freed right now maybe I’d even go for a trip to the nearest tavern, and brag about my winnings to everyone I can see until my throat is raw.
However, and I truly may hate myself for this, I fear the second I storm in there and open my mouth to speak, the name “Othello” would already be presumed to be on my tongue. Oh, who am I to fool. There is no one here but me. Where his name, when spoken to me, now provokes ire and anger, it did so used to do the opposite. Speak on, I will not, for if there is one thing that I wish to hold on to other than my hand to my bleeding wound it is my dignity. These cracking cell walls, they speak. I should know; I’ve been on the other side of them for the majority of my time here. For Othello’s sake, nonetheless.
The fate he had he brought it on himself. Cassio was his choice? That good for nothing womanizer? If I were Othello I’d have killed myself the second that god-awful decision was made.
And yet, as he was told of my crimes, before he did end his own life so selfishly, I can’t help but wish the red in his face and the regret in his eyes could’ve been for a different reason. The flush of his face, maybe accompanied with my lips on his.
God, spare me! Let someone back into my cell to beat my wounds raw for thinking such a thing, and let my skull be cracked open on the cold, concrete floor for not wanting to take it back.
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rythyme · 7 months ago
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ok imagine 10 things i hate about you. now imagine 10 things i hate about you, but gay. now imagine that kat and bianca are assassins who kill corrupt politicians and businessmen. now imagine that this is real. many good and wonderful things are possible in this world if you watch thai dramas.
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ultravioletbrit · 2 months ago
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“loud” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 442 words
 
Regulus is sitting in the library with his friends who have been teasing him for about half an hour about his supposed crush on James. Regulus is, in fact, in love with James, but they don’t have to know that, and they certainly don’t have to tease him about it. So Regulus is a bit fed up at this point.
“I do not have a crush on him.” Regulus tells them firmly.
“Regulus…” Pandora tries to interrupt.
“He’s a loud, obnoxious, arrogant prat.” But Regulus ignores her.  
“Regulus…” This time Dorcas tries to cut him off.  
“He’s always doing too many stupid, random things for me. He won’t leave me alone and it’s annoying.” Regulus just keeps going.
“Regulus.” Barty says more adamantly than the girls.  
“No, I’m sick of everyone telling me I have a crush on him.” Regulus finishes.   
“Regulus?” Regulus hears a smaller voice from behind him. He doesn’t turn, he just stares wide eyed at his friends until James walks up beside them.  
“I um… I saw you leave dinner before dessert, so I went to the kitchens and got you some truffles… Sorry.” James says with a sad smile and glassy eyes. He places the truffles on the table and walks quickly out of the library. 
“James, wait!” Regulus tries, but he’s already gone so Regulus turns back to his friends.
“You guys could have said something!” He scolds his friends, grabs the truffles and leaves the library.
“Yeah, we…” He hears Barty start but Regulus is already gone.
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Regulus eventually finds James sitting down by the Black Lake throwing rocks into the water. He walks over and sits down beside him.
“Want to share some truffles?” Regulus asks him after a moment of silence.
“You don’t have to do this.” James says sadly.  
“I’m so sorry James.” Regulus tells him as sincerely as he can.
“It’s okay. I know I can be too much.” He throws another rock into the lake.   
“I never said you were too much. I said you do too many things for me.” Regulus corrects him.  
“Same thing.” James shrugs.  
“It’s not. You are not too much, James. You do too many things, because… because you don’t have to do anything at all, and… and I’d still like you.” Regulus works up the courage to tell him.  
“You just told your friends repeatedly that you don’t like me.” James huffs.
“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘thou doth protest too much’?” Regulus asks him with the tiniest smile.
“Yeah, but I never really knew what it meant.” James admits to him.  
“Maybe I’ll explain it to you someday.” Regulus tells him and passes him a truffle.
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charbroiledchicken · 2 months ago
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*the slytherin skittles on a hike*
Dorcas: It’s beautiful out here. Regulus: And quiet. Dorcas: Too quiet. Regulus: Did we lose someone?
*exit Barty and Evan pursued by bear*
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andersonssperry1571 · 2 months ago
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robert sean leonard playing a gay character:
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the gay character playing a gay character:
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wouldgaysexfixthem · 4 months ago
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would gay sex fix them?
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corvidclub · 5 months ago
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the parallel between Lestat marking all the tenor's flat notes and Armand writing all his aggressive director notes for Claudia on the 500th performance... the performing community of Paris better thank their lucky stars everyday that lesmand didn't become a real couple because there would be no survivors
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billy-the-bard · 1 month ago
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Fellow Bard enthusiasts!
I have a question: Is it common to portray Edmund and the Duke of Cornwall as having an affair, in productions of "King Lear"?
(This is in addition to Edmund's other canon affairs, of course.)
I just watched a version from the mid-80s and its version of Act III, Scene V left NO ambiguity about it.
I mean...
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Cornwall on the left, Edmund in the water, on the right.
(Yes, I had to blur, um, certain 'parts of Cornwall', shall we say? Because it was all out in the open...)
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sneakertin · 1 year ago
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hamlet and horatio being in love for six minutes straight
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ellewelle · 1 year ago
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Just bros being dudes
In book twenty four Achilles “longs for his manhood” and by that point he has brises back. platonic yeahhhhh sureeee.
“Now you lie here slaughtered, and my heart has no want of food or drink i only want of you” yeah, straight
Have his ashes mixed with his boyfri- I mean best friends ashes. Yep, just besties
Calling his “bestie” his most beloved on several occasions. Mhm, totally not gay
Literally going insane after pats death. Yuppers, no homo there
Crying so loud the gods at the bottom of the goddamn ocean could hear him. Totally hetero
“Why true heart do you come hither to lay these charges upon me. I will of my own self do what you have bidden me.” Yes yes, only the straightest of friends call each other true heart
"Draw closer to me, let us once more throw our arms around one another and find comfort in the sharing of our sorrows."
using the same language to mourn patroclus as andromache used for hector. really good mates
Heterosexuals you say? Surreeeeeeeee
edit: I love how no one has openly objected to this post
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itboytrends · 1 month ago
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Kit Connor in “Romeo + Juliet”.
Follow us for more.
https://instagram.com/itboytrendsnyc
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florencewelchsgrapejuice · 3 months ago
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queer classic lit relationships according to me and me alone
Romeo and Juliet- he/him lesbian and his soft femme gf
Mercutio and Benvolio- the other tragic love story in R&J 
Hamlet and Horatio- no explanation needed
Beatrice and Benedick- the B’s in their names stand for bi 
Viola/Cesario, Orsino, Olivia, Sebastian, and Antonio- Shakespeare invented the chaotic polycule 
Helena and Hermia- who the hell are Demetrius and Lysander i only know these two sapphics 
Oberon, Titania, and Puck- they’re a triad your honor 
Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy- he’s bi, she’s demi, they’re iconic 
Anne Elliot and Frederick Wentworth- only demisexuals could have the patience these two do 
Fanny Price and Mary Crawford- get fucking WRECKED Edmund no one even likes you
Emma Woodhouse, Harriet Smith, and Mr. Knightley- Emma has two hands etc etc
Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester- little bi freaks 
Jo March and Friedrich Bhaer- two ace dark academia nerds managed to find each other wow love is real 
Anne Shirley and Diana Barry- *looks at photo of Gilbert* sorry to this man
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saltavenegar · 1 year ago
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Watched rómeó és júlia and it was brain chemistry altering
(Individual drawings underneath)
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psychologicalwarclaire · 3 months ago
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Is this piece of classic literature actually gay or is the author so misogynistic that he wrote the men as characters who actually think and feel and make decisions, never considering that he could do the same with women, so of course we're going to see chemistry between the men because the women are nowhere near as deeply written?
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(pt 1)(pt 2)(pt 3)(RESULTS+superlatives)
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just-an-enby-lemon · 7 months ago
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Nothing will be more hilarious to me than the party's - specially Ben's - outrage about Alex's sneaky reference to William Shakespeare slowly fading as they remember that half of the NPCs are actually historical figures. Like they are genuinally going "what's this assassin's creed? You put Shakespeare in the gift Augusta Leight gave to our honorary party member Oscar Wilde while waiting for Ada Lovelace and Nikola Tesla to see if we can talk to the brain of Charles Babbage about the mission Albert Einstein teleported us to? Shakespeare a whole historical person? "
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