#ch william Shakespeare

[beefbbastard]

I saw you take ship edit requests? If it’s okay I’d love to see one of Vincent Van Gogh x William Shakespeare!

Sorry this took forever, I dunno why

[seeinganewlight]

on lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;

[v-akarai]

References in Servamp

Arabian mythology

Jinn. Ch. 16

Greek mythology

Elpis. Ch. 75

Moirai. Ch. 108

Pandora. Ch. 130

Pygmalion. Ch. 123

Pandora's Box. Ch. 97

Japanese mythology

Gashadokuro. Ch. 129

Kitsune. Ch. 3

Raijin. Ch. 85

Norse mythology

Baldr. Ch. 39

Bifröst. Ch. 88

Brunhild. Ch. 88

Fimbulwinter. Ch. 40

Freya. Ch. 65

Frey. Ch. 131

Gleipnir. Ch. 101

Hati. Ch. 91, 131

Hod. Ch. 39

Hliðskjálf. Ch. 96

Idunn. Ch. 65

Loki. Ch. 15

Mimir. Ch. 29

Mjölnir. Ch. 53

Ragnarök. Ch. 101, 122, 131

Sigurd. Ch. 101

Thor. Ch. 41

Yggdrasil. Ch. 42

Biblical references

Abel. Ch. 8

Adam. Ch. 128

Boaz and Jachin. Ch. 42

Eden. Ch. 21

Eve. Ch. 1

John the Baptist. Ch. 122

Judith. Ch. 147

Lucifer. Ch. 135

Noah. Ch. 145

Nod. Ch. 29, events

Hinduism

Asura. Ch. 57.5, 89.

Tarot

The Fool - Mahiru. Ch. 50

I. The Magician – Night trio. Ch. 41

II. The High Priestess – Mikuni. Ch. 42

V. The Hierophant - Shuhei. Ch. 77

X. Wheel of Fortune - Junichiro. Ch. 53

XII. The Hanged Man - Tsurugi. Ch. 50

XV. The Devil – Shamrock. Ch. 72

XVI. The Tower - Touma. Ch. 47

XVII. The Star - Iduna. Ch. 73

XVIII. The Moon - Yumikage. Ch. 69

XX. Judgement - Mikuni. Ch. 144

Literary references

 "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 3, 4, 7, 19, 98, 122. Misono, Lily, Dodo, Mitsuki, Yamane, Hattori, Mikuni, Bad B and Good B.

"As You Like It" William Shakespeare. Ch. 10, 38.5. Mikuni's spell.

"My Fair Lady" English nursery rhyme. Ch. 10 Mikuni's spell.

"Dracula" Bram Stoker. Ch. 12, 30. Hugh.

"Romeo and Juliet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.

"Faust" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Ch. 29 Johannes.

"Through the Looking-Glass" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 29, events. Mikuni, Johannes.

"Julius Caesar" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 84. Hyde.

"Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" Robert Stevenson. Ch. 23, 37. Hyde, Licht.

"Macbeth" William Shakespeare. Ch. 24, 31. Kuro, Saint Germain, Mahiru.

"Night on the Galactic Railroad" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 26, 142. Higan, Tsubaki.

"The Little Prince" Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Ch 30, 67. Kuro, Mahiru, Sloth demon, Gear, probably Jeje.

"Hamlet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 33, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.

"The Phantom of the Opera" Gaston Leroux. Ch. 36 Licht and Hyde technique.

"Peter and Wendy" James Barry. Ch. 44, 56, 74. Tsurugi, Touma, Mahiru.

"Ring a Ring o' Roses" nursery rhyme. Ch. 53 Junichiro's spell.

“Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens” James Barry. Ch. 53, 75. Tsurugi, Touma.

"Death in Venice" Thomas Mann. Ch. 55 Gilbert technique.

"Total Eclipse" a play by Christopher Hampton. Ch. 55 Rayscent's technique.

"The Morning of the Last Farewell" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.

"Spring and Asura" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.

"The Catcher in the Rye" Jerome Salinger. Ch. 62 Shuhei.

"Four and Twenty Blackbirds" Agatha Christie. Ch. 62 Shuhei's spell.

"Metamorphosis" Franz Kafka. Ch. 62 Shamrock technique.

“The Nighhawk's Star” Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 62, 76. Shamrock technique.

"Rock-a-bye Baby" an English lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.

“Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein” lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.

"Who Killed Cock Robin" an English nursery rhyme. Ch. 70 Yumikage's spell.

"The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" Lyman Frank Baum. Ch. 70, 88. Tsukimitsu brothers’ spells.

"Daddy-Long-Legs" Jean Webster. Ch. 74. Dark Night Trio, Touma.

"King Lear" William Shakespeare. Ch. 86. Hyde.

"The House of the Sleeping Beauties" Yasunari Kawabata. Ch. 86. Iori.

"The Divine Comedy" Dante Alighieri. Ch. 118, 120, 121. Niccolo, Ildio, Gluttony demon.

“A Brute's Love” (人でなしの恋) Edogawa Rampo. Ch. 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Coppelia" ballet Leo Delibes. Chapter 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Salome" Oscar Wilde. Ch. 122, 147. Mikuni, Lily.

"Turandot" opera by Giacomo Puccini based on the play by Carlo Gozzi. Ch. 129, 136. Lily.

"The Tempest" William Shakespeare. Ch. 131. Licht and Hyde.

"The Old Man and the Sea" Ernest Hemingway. Ch. 134 Hugh.

"Flowers for Algernon" Daniel Keyes. Ch. 135 Hugh.

"Jane Eyre" Charlotte Brontë. Ch. 136. Hokaze.

"Madama Butterfly" opera by Giacomo Puccini. Ch. 136. Lily.

"Hansel and Gretel" the Brothers Grimm. Ch. 140. Faust and Otogiri.

"Girl Hell" Yumeno Kyusaku. Ch. 147. Mikuni, Noah.

Music

"Für Elise" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 34

"Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" by Johann Sebastian Bach. Ch. 125

Sonata No. 17 "Tempest" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 131

Movies

"It's a Wonderful Life" (1946). Ch. 131

"Life is Beautiful" (1997). Ch. 131

I believe this list can be expanded. Somewhere I’ve written only chaps when some reference was mentioned for the first time and omitted all further mentions.

Special thanks to hello-vampire-kitty, joydoesathing and passmeabook, because some works wouldn’t be included in the list without their observations.

[random-thot-generator]

Love Thy Frenemy + Ch. 5

(Frenemies/Tenderness AU) FIVE: The Meat You Feed On

SIMON GHOST RILEY x FRENEMY FEM READER

Summary: Simon is having some issue with your secretive behavior, his suspicions and jealousy pushing him to show up unexpectedly at your flat one night. 

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, bit of angst, jealousy, possessive behavior, No use of Y/N, Simon is a simp, and so is reader, idiots in love, but too stubborn to admit it.

(Notes: I’ll always see Simon as a possessive personality. The poor man revels in Reader’s attention, so thinking it’s being focused on someone else... bothers him. Jealousy is not necessarily healthy for a relationship, but this is all new for the big guy, and feelings are hard, okay?)

 [gif via tenor] 

Word Count: 3121

Chapter 5

-

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.”

― William Shakespeare, Othello

“You can only be jealous of someone who has something you think you ought to have yourself.”

― Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale

-.

Simon wanted to know where the hell you were going.

To make ends meet, you worked six days a week at the pub, taking one day off. On that one day, you disappeared. Where you went, he had no idea. He only knew that you left early in the morning and didn’t return until late in the evening, usually well after dark. You had done this for as long as he’d known you, but it was only of late it had begun to eat at him.

You never spoke of these little excursions you took outside of the village, never said where you went or what you did. He had tried to ferret the intel out of you, bringing it up every now and then during conversation, but you would simply not answer or change the subject. Even early on in your friendship, this stuck in his craw a little bit, but he always deferred to respecting your privacy. You stayed out of his business when he made it clear he didn’t want to talk about something, so he gave you the same respect, but now...

It was driving him bloody mad.

Perhaps it wouldn’t bother him so much if you didn’t always look so utterly spent when you returned home. It wasn’t just mental weariness; you were physically exhausted, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you were seeing someone. What if you had a partner, a lover who was— he gritted his teeth— doing this to you.

He didn’t like thinking about it, shouldn’t be thinking about it— it was none of his bloody business, but he couldn’t help it. The truth of it was he hated seeing you in such a state, knowing he had nothing to do with it.

You looked that way, right now, peeking around the open door of your flat. His hands clenched into fists and his jaw creaked as he ground his teeth. He stood there on your threshold, staring down at you as you peered up at him, a bone-tired expression on your face. “Riley. Did you just get back?”

It was times like this that he wished you hadn’t opened the door at the pub that night, because you’d opened something up inside him as well, and not everything that came crawling out of him was nice. Something dark and cold was curling in his chest, leaving a bitter taste at the back of his throat. It fed venom to that thought that had been swirling in his head all day long. Where the fuck had you been and who the hell were you with?

“Got back this mornin’. Came by earlier but you weren’t here,” he replied, tilting his head. “Ya goin’ t’invite me in ‘r not?”

You blinked, lids drooping in slow motion before fluttering up again. You were dead on your feet. “Oh. Yeah, of course. Sorry,” you mumbled, shuffling aside. “C’mon in.”

Simon stepped inside, glancing around. He’d never been inside your flat before. It was little more than a cracker box, and a shite one, at that, but it was clean and tidy, and very much you.

There were a lot of bookshelves and houseplants. His eyes went a little wide at the sight. Every bit of free space had a shelf of some sort crammed in it and then that was crammed full of books. There were large colorful art prints and old movie posters in cheap frames that caught his eye, odd little knickknacks, little framed photos of family and friends tucked onto shelves and set about the room. There was the lingering smell of food in the air that made his stomach growl. 

“Mind takin’ off your boots?” you asked.

Simon turned his head to stare after you as you stepped into your tiny kitchen, then glanced down at his booted feet. Sodden tracks littered the clean tiles. He bent and unlaced them, toeing them off before setting them beside your own shoes on the small mat you kept by the door. He noticed how small your shoes looked next to his and for some reason he felt his chest grow warm and tight.

“Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll make you a cuppa, yeah?”

“Yeah. Sure.” His eyes travelled over your form, noting the lounge pants with fat, white cartoon cats overlaying a textile pattern of hot pink and black plaid. Your shirt was a ratty looking band tee with AC/DC’s Highway to Hell album cover printed on it, faded and cracking from multiple washes. Black and pink fuzzy socks covered your feet. You must have taken a shower when you got home, because your hair hung loose and damp, face scrubbed free of makeup. You looked... good this way.

Padding through the small living area, he took a seat on your couch and groaned as he sank into the cushions. Pulling a throw pillow out from the corner to settle back into the seat better, he tucked it between his thigh and the arm of the couch. It smelled faintly of the perfume you wore.

He could picture you curled up here, head on the pillow, that fluffy blanket at the other end of the couch tucked around you while you read or watched the telly. He eyed your entertainment setup next, noticing how small your little flatscreen was. He had a monitor that was about the same size. Your DVD collection put his to shame, though. He leaned forward and tilted his head to study the titles.

“You can borrow any of those you like,” you said, rounding the couch with an arm outstretched, a steaming mug in your hand.

He nodded his thanks, watching as you settled back with your own mug at the other end of the couch. You sipped it with your eyes closed, humming before setting the mug down on the coffee table in front of you. Turning slightly, you gave him a once over, something he noticed you did now when he returned from deployment.

“You weren’t gone so long this time. That’s good, right?”

Simon grunted. He had been gone for ten days, a quick in-and-out to retrieve a hostage from a safehouse in Switzerland. Bad intel resulted in an ambush instead of an extraction. No one had made it out unscathed. The stitches in his shoulder began to itch. “Depends on how ya look at it.”

You gave him a querulous expression but knew better than to probe for more information. Riley never talked about his missions, his ‘ops’, as he and Ollie called them. “Have you eaten? I’ve got some left—”

“Where were you all day?”

Your mouth hung open, caught off guard by his sudden inquiry. “I had some errands outside of the village,” you replied, purposefully vague.

“Must’a been a hell of an errand. Yer bloody exhausted,” he persisted, eyeing you. “An’ it took ya all day, too.” Your confused little frown prompted him to add, “Came by earlier tonight. Ya still weren’t ‘ome yet.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, drawing your knees up closer to your chest as you pushed yourself back into the corner of the couch. You averted your gaze and shrugged. “It’s no big deal. All the travelling, I suppose. The bus, the train ride. It tires me out.” You shook your head and picked up the remote, holding it out to him. “Here. Find something to watch. I’m going to go heat up the leftovers for you.”

He took it from your hand, trying not to glare at you in frustration. Not your bloody business, he reminded himself. “Ya don’t gotta do that, Dee. Just— rest,” he muttered, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the questions in his mouth from tumbling out.

“It’s no problem,” you said, moving to get up, but he stopped you with a growl.

“Jus’ bloody leave it,” he groused. “Ya ain’t m’damn mum.”

He could see hurt flash in your eyes before that little scowl appeared. Scoffing, you sneered at him. “Fine, ya grumpy arsehole.”

Simon seethed for a few minutes, then gave up. “Ya don’t gotta feed me every time ya see me, Dee.”

You slanted a mean, narrow look at him. “I’ve seen how you grocery shop, remember? Protein bars and a pack of Stella’s is not sustenance. Neither is eating takeaway every other meal.”

He threw his head back on the cushion, staring up at the cracked ceiling. Bloody hell this place was a dump. You deserved better than this. He blew out a tired sigh. “Fine. If it’ll stop yer naggin’, I’ll eat.”

Your smile was instant and smug. “Good,” you said, rising from the couch. “Now, find something to watch,” you said, pointing at the telly.

“Need to use the loo, first. Ya mind?”

“‘Course not,” you said over your shoulder, pointing at your bedroom door. “Through my room. Door’s open.”

Simon stood and circled the couch, casting a quick glance over you before entering your room. He slowed his steps on entry. He was walking through your inner sanctum, your most personal space. It was tiny with little room for more than the twin bed, nightstand and chest of drawers, another small flat screen sitting atop it. He paused when he glanced down at your nightstand, spotting a framed photo. Darting a quick glimpse over his shoulder, he picked it up to study it.

The picture had been taken at the pub. You were standing behind the bar, leaning on an elbow as you talked to... him. He was in the photo as well. There was a brief moment of panic, but considering the angle, it had to have been taken by someone else behind the bar, so it was taken either by Ollie or Fiona, probably Fiona. Ollie knew better.

He examined the photo closely. He was seated in his usual spot, arms resting on the bar, an empty tumbler and a book lying between you. You were looking at each other, an amused little smile on your face. What struck him was how he was looking at you. He had tilted his head, his eyes focused on you like you were the only person in the room, then realized that’s usually how it felt, too. You always had been a bloody distraction. He shook his head.

He startled when he heard you close the microwave and quickly set the picture back the way he found it, hurrying on silent feet into your bathroom.

It was about the size of a postage stamp, barely enough room for him to move. He shut the door behind him, then huddled over the toilet, arm pressed against the wall as he relieved himself. He noticed the toilet was leaking and frowned as he washed his hands. He’d ask you about it, offer to fix it. The faucet in the shower stall was dripping as well. He reached in to try to tighten the knob, but it was no use. He then took your shampoo off the little formed ledge and sniffed it. It smelled nice, sweet and floral, like you.

Not wanting to linger any longer, he made his way back to the main living area, but you motioned for him to sit at the counter instead. “Just in time,” you said, sliding a plate towards him. “I’ll go sit and watch some telly, so you can eat in peace.” 

You laid a fork and knife by the plate with a sheet of kitchen roll for a napkin. Simon looked down as you drew your hand away, his own darting out to catch your wrist and pull your hand closer to get a better look at it.

“Bloody hell, Dee,” he muttered, looking at the raw, red patches and peeling skin. “What the fuck did ya do to yer hands?”

You shrugged, trying to pull it back. “It’s nothing. They get like this, sometimes. Probably something in the cleaning products I use, most likely. I wear gloves, but I seem to always end up with my hands soaked at some point.”

He held on, skimming a thumb over the irritated skin. “You should tell Ol the stuff he uses at the pub is fuckin’ up yer skin.”

You gave him an odd look then offered a reluctant nod. “Yeah. Guess I should.” You dropped your gaze to the plate of food in front of him. “Go ahead and eat,” you reminded him softly, taking your hand back.

You came around the counter and walked behind him, your steps taking you back to the small sitting area. He heard the telly turn on and snippets of sound erupted as you began flipping through the channels. He chanced a peek over his shoulder, seeing only the crown of your head poking up above the back of the couch. You stopped flipping channels, settling on some old black and white movie. He turned back around and looked at his plate.

It was simple fare— bangers and mash, but it was one of his favorite dishes. The steam rising from the plate smelled heavenly and his stomach rumbled in protest. Tugging his balaclava up to his nose, he picked up the knife and fork and dug in. The first bite made his eyes slide shut as he savored the taste. It was so bloody good, reminding him of his childhood, of his mum. She used to make the same dish. Nostalgia, bittersweet, overtook his thoughts as memories of sitting at the dinner table with his mum and Tommy took up his headspace.

Eventually, his attention began to drift. He found himself listening to the voices on the telly, the volume kept low in consideration of your neighbors. His eyes wandered over the small kitchen before him.

The counter was scarred and chipped but scrubbed clean, like the rest of the kitchen. Old enamel and scratched chrome gleamed under the glow of the overhead light. You had a collection of herbs in the window, a collection of cookbooks on top of the fridge, and a collection of smaller appliances pushed back against the wall below the cupboards. He couldn’t even guess what the majority of them were for.

He looked down at his empty plate then back around the small kitchen. You should be cooking in a big, fully stocked kitchen worthy of your skills, he thought. He turned in his seat to look around the rest of the flat. As shabby as the place itself was, you still made it feel warm and inviting; you made it a home. He couldn’t help but wonder what you could do with a place like his row house, but then that thought segued into a darker thought.

Did you do this for whoever you went to see on your days off? Did you cook for him, too? Did you clean his flat for him while you were there? Was that why your hands were in such bad shape? He was certain whoever the sorry wanker was, he didn’t appreciate it enough. If he did, you wouldn’t be living here. He should be taking better care of you.

The need to discover where you went and who you were seeing was eating him alive, and now he was more determined than ever to find out. He wouldn’t be able to let it go until he did.

Taking his dirty dishes to the sink, he quickly washed them and left them to dry in the rack, then went back to join you on the couch. When he came around, he looked down at you and then paused. You’d fallen asleep, your head lying against your shoulder. A tube of topical cream was lying in your lap, something you had used to treat your hands, which laid atop the blanket, still red and raw looking. It pissed him off to see you this way, but he choked it down and swallowed it to sour in his gut with your food.

He needed to go. He didn’t want to lash out at you again because he was angry at the useless sod you were apparently seeing. Perhaps he needed to find this bastard and have a word with him. It would probably piss you off to no end, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t let this stand. He should be treating you far better, and Simon was more than happy to inform him of that fact. You were his friend, and he would do everything in his power to look after you.

That was the excuse he went with as he decided to follow you on your next outing. Mind made up, he slipped his boots back on and readied himself to leave.

“Doll,” he murmured, giving your shoulder a gentle shake.

Your eyes blinked open and you sat up. You looked about, confused for a moment before peering up at him with a sleepy expression that made his heart beat funny in his chest. “Sorry, Ri. Must’ve dozed off.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, love. You need to go to bed. I’m headin’ home.”

You nodded, standing to see him to the door. You paused, turning back to look behind you. “Oh, did you want to pick out some movies or a book or something?”

Simon smiled beneath his mask. “’S alright, doll. How ‘bout I bring you home tomorrow after work an’ pick out something then, yeah?”

Your eyes went a little wide, a little smile forming. “Yeah, that will be fine. I could make us dinner, too. Feed you an actual hot meal instead of reheated leftovers,” you offered.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow. G’night.”

“Good night, Ri. Be careful driving home.”

He gave you a nod and turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t forget to lock your door.”

“Will do!” you called after him, that little smile still lingering as you watched him disappear from sight.

Locking up, as promised, you went to bed thinking about what you were going to make him for dinner the next evening. You gazed at the photo by your bedside until you drifted back to sleep.

-

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[coquelicoq]

In talking about Chaucer (p. 74), I said that, in general, puns and verbal connections of sound were unimportant and not to be sought out; and now, you will say, I have been using them to explain cruces in Shakespeare. Alas, you have touched on a sore point; this is one of the less reputable aspects of our national poet. A quibble is to Shakespeare [Johnson could not but confess] what luminous vapours are to the traveller; he follows it at all adventures; it is sure to lead him out of his way and sure to engulf him in the mire. It has some malignant power over his mind.... A quibble was for him the fatal Cleopatra for whom he lost the world, and was content to lose it. Nor can I hold out against the Doctor, beyond saying that life ran very high in those days, and that he does not seem to have lost the world so completely after all. It shows lack of decision and will-power, a feminine pleasure in yielding to the mesmerism of language, in getting one's way, if at all, by deceit and flattery, for a poet to be so fearfully susceptible to puns. Many of us could wish the Bard had been more manly in his literary habits, and I am afraid the Sitwells are just as bad.

William Empson, 7 Types of Ambiguity, ch 2 pp 100-101

i'm sorry this is so fucking funny. that pathetic loser shakespeare who loved puns so much it cost him everything, except of course his status as the most famous, most read, most immortal english-language author of all time. but everything else, he lost and it's all because of how weak he was to resist a pun :/ pouring one out for my sad little girly man who could have had it all if only he was better at writing, the thing he is the most famous guy in the world for.

even empson, who disagrees with johnson that shakespeare "lost the world", is like, too bad our favorite poet is susceptible to the thing that made him famous :/ really tragic that the guy whose wordplay we've been talking about for 300 years likes wordplay :///

also i can't get over writing a book about the types of ambiguity and NOT INCLUDING PUNS?? sorry but puns are ambiguous! that's where their juice comes from! imagine liking ambiguity so much you write a book about it but never mention puns except to dunk on them. imagine being a POET and POETRY CRITIC who looks down on sound-based ambiguity! could not be me!!

[foxes-that-run]

Willow

Willow is about an affair with someone she desires like a prize, she cheats to win him. The Willow Song is in Shakespeare's Othello. Harry Styles Sweet Creature also references Othello about Taylor. To People on 5 December 2023 Aaron said Taylor wrote

Due to their huge spread willows are susceptible to wind and flexible, so they have deep and strong roots. It's symbolism for a strong bond that's tenacious and grows in poor conditions. A Willow appears in Begin Again, where it was also shot a similar way.

The film clip picks up straight from Cardigan which is also about Harry. The children in the tent is a reference to Everything has Changed and Seven. In a Livestream Taylor said the film clip referenced Exile, which I think is "I've seen this film before and didn't like the ending." In Cardigan she was 'changed' but she stayed where she started, in Willow she leaves with her muse.

There are green curtains when Taylor is behind the glass, Taylor said this references Mirrorball. Harry is also behind glass in the As it was and referred to 'being behind the glass' as something others couldn't understand, separating them from other people. This is similar to the gilded cage theme. She also uses similar imagery to refer to her stolen masters for her Eras being behind glass in the Eras tour and I Can See You music video.

The dancer is from Red tour (IKYWT). The posters behind him say The Python and The Man of Fire (a Sweet Nothing and William Bowery reference, in Rolling Stone Paul McCartney told Taylor his pseudonym was Fireman). The Man of Fire is is doing the Whale. (!!)

The cloak is like the one in Ready for it and Green. They step into the Daylight at the end. The Invisible string ends in the cabin.

To Zane Lowe Taylor said:

'It felt like somebody's standing over a potion making a love potion dreaming up the person that they want and the person they desire and trying to figure out how to get that person in their life and all the kind of misdirection and bait and switch.' The complexity of seeing someone, feeling a connection wanting them and trying to make them a part of your life. It's tactical at times, it's confusing at times. I wanted to set the vibe of magical and mysterious." and "One of the main themes [of Folklore] was conflict resolution, get through something with someone, making confessions or communicating. Evermore deals a lot in endings of all sorts shapes and sizes all the kinds of ways"

To people magazine 5 December 2023 Aaron Dessner said it was the first song after folklore:

“There are so many stories I could share. When I sent Taylor the music for our song "Willow" — I think she wrote the entire song from start to finish in less than 10 minutes and sent it back to me. It was like an earthquake. Then Taylor said, "I guess we are making another album."

Othello and Sweet Creature

The Willow Song is a real folk song referred to in Shakespeare's Othello. Othello is married to Desdemona. Lago seeds doubt in Othello's mind that Desdemona has been unfaithful with Cassio. Desdemona sings part of 'The Willow Song' in which a lady mourns her true love lost, the singer dies from their false love's cruelty. As the folk song foreshadowed, Othello loses his mind and kills Desdemona in a jealous rage.

Considering Taylors comments above that Folklore is about communication (with songs like Cardigan, The 1 and Exile where she cleared some air with Harry). And her comment that Evermore is about endings, and Willow figuring out who one wants and Masterminding them into one's life. Like it's namesake, Taylor's Willow is expressing a wistful desire for a lost true love. The context implies neglect and distrusted by her partner at that time.

The Othello reference implies the object of her desire, the title of Harry Styles Sweet Creature is an Othello quote. Sweet Creature mocked CH's unwarranted belief that he had had an affair with Taylor, it also expresses Harry's love for Taylor.

I have seen analysis suggesting that Willow is retelling of Othello from Desdemona POV, but it isn't. Desdemona is an innocent victim, She's faithful and says she would not cheat for anything short of the whole world then is murdered. Taylor's character in Willow has more agency and would 'cheat to win' a trophy of man that she describes in Gold Rush. Unlike Desdemona, she has desire, which Taylor described to Zane Lowe. She is the character in the Willow Song - stuck in a false love, longing for her lost true love. It is a metaphor for Taylors own life, Sweet Creature parallel intended. Which explains the video with links to Taylor's past since Red.

Lyrics

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife And if it was an open-shut case I never would've known from that look on your face Lost in your current like a priceless wine

To WFPK Taylor described the couple in Coney Island and Exile as 'Ships in the Night' in having trouble communicating. A similar water theme is here. Although she is not open to a relationship, she is rough on the surface, he gets through and she wants him.

She is defenceless and lost wanting to be with him. (Wonderland: "We found wonderland, you and I got lost in it").

Wine is a theme, (spilt on many dresses (Clean), shirts (Maroon), bathtubs (Dress) and a sea here).

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind (oh) Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in As if you were a mythical thing Like you were a trophy or a champion ring And there was one prize I'd cheat to win

Life is a willow that bent to your wind is brings the symbolism of a strong, deep force that grows around and with life's interferance. She has grown around this love, bending with it over time.

She feels her muse sneaking in to her pillow, sneaking implies an affair, this is not her boyfriend but someone she desires more that has had a deep impact on her life. This is confirmed with being willing to cheat to be with this muse.

She desires him like a prize, she describes Harry with similar desirability in Gold Rush, where she is intimidated by how desired he is, here she is proud he is her man. Similar to Gold Rush which starts with 'I almost jump in' Willow started with her having a rough surface he cuts through, both body of water metaphors.

The more that you say The less I know Wherever you stray I follow

'The more you say, the less I know' refers to her confusion over being in a committed relationship. In Folklore she and Harry communicated about their past in The 1, Cardigan and Exile. She's now confused about the path she is on and questioning if she should leave her partner. In The 1 she sang "And if you wanted me, you really should've showed", he now has and she is confused.

Wherever you stray a follow is similar to Lover "can I go where you go?" Also in Treacherous "And I'll do anything you say / If you say it with your hands". Also Harry's Medicine. "If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive"

I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man You know that my train could take you home Anywhere else is hollow

"Begging for you take my hand" refers to:

Blank Space: "Grab your passport and my hand"

I Know Places: "Just grab my hand and don’t ever drop it"

New Romantics: "Please take my hand and please take me dancing", and

As it Was "I want you to hold out the palm of your hand / Why don't we leave it at that?"

"You know that my train could take you home" Home is an important concept between Harry and Taylor who sing about each other as home. Trains are also mentioned in Cardigan and Sad Beautiful Tragic, which Cardigan's BTS links to Cardigan.

'Anywhere else is hollow' is similar to Ready for it? "Every lover known in comparison is a failure" and Question...? "Does it feel like everything's just like second-best after that Meteor strike?" and Harry's MMIH "Once you go without it nothing else will do"

I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man

"Wreck my plans", Taylors plans were to stay with the partner that, in Willow Song, is jealous and neglectful. This muse has shown up and that's out the window.

"That's my man" refers to the cyclical nature of their relationship:

Style: And when we go crashing down we come back every time

Blank Space: "But you’ll come back each time you leave"

Out Of The Woods: "We were built to fall apart, then fall back together"

How You Get The Girl: "Broke your heart, I’ll put it back together"

This Love: "When you’re young you just run, but you come back to what you need"

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind (oh) They count me out time and time again Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind (oh) But I come back stronger than a 90's trend

I love this, to me the 90's trend/come back (to me) is a reference to 1989 and Style/the cycle nature of their relationship. In this part of the film clip she also references Reputation and where she was counted out and came back stronger.

Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark Show me the places where the others gave you scars Now this is an open-shut case Guess I should've known from the look on your face Every bait and switch was a work of art

Taylor further discusses how she meets her lover after dark, this is describing an affair as in Illicit Affairs.

He shares his vulnerability, where the scars are. Harry has sung of showing Taylor scars in If I could fly "I've got scars, even though they can't always be seen. And pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing. Pay attention, I hope that you listen cause I let my guard down. Right now I'm completely defenseless" I think she is also referring to Seven.

Taylor used 'Bait and switch in promotion for "Look at what you made me do" the bait and switch was that Reputation seemed like one thing but was about finding love through the noise. While Taylor dated Joe for the last 4 months before it's release, the album was primarily written by September 2016 before they started dating.

Taylor also referred to Zane Lowe about "The complexity of seeing someone, feeling a connection wanting them and trying to make them a part of your life. It's tactical at times, it's confusing at times." in the music video and Era's tour she has a witches gathering to use all her power and bring this muse into her life.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Adding Context (for some of these, as requested)

fool - An endearment recorded in the 16th and early 17th centuries, usually accompanied by a supporting adjective, such as poor, young, heavenly, and sweet. The other, much more dominant sense of fool probably crushed its tenderness potential.

bully - At first either men or women could be addressed as bully, meaning ‘sweetheart’, but by Shakespeare’s time it was men only. The innkeeper in The Merry Wives of Windsor (1597) calls all the men bully, both with an accompanying noun (‘bully Sir John’, ‘bully doctor’) and as a single vocative (‘Mockwater, in our English tongue, is valour, bully’).

pussy - This use of a cat’s call-name as an endearment is found in a ballad as early as the 16th century (‘Adieu, my pretty pussy . . . ’), but there is a significant gap before OED citations resume in the 19th century. The reason is probably to do with the way puss developed negative associations in the interim (such as spitefulness and slyness). When Samuel Pepys writes in his diary (6 August 1663), ‘His wife, an ugly puss . . . ’, this is a long way from endearment. But when Doctor Jeddler calls his daughter puss (in Charles Dickens’s novella The Battle of Life, 1846, ch. 1), we see a very different usage. The change seems to have taken place during the 18th century, and heralded later adaptations of the pussy motif (e.g., pussums).

ding-ding - A playful adaptation, probably of darling, with OED citations into the early 17th century. Ding-dong and ding-a-dings took it a stage further.

pug - Most of the meanings of pug are to do with ‘small size’ – a dwarf animal, an imp, a nose, a doll – so presumably this endearment was used for people of small stature. OED citations are found throughout the 17th century. There was usually an accompanying adjective: the alliterative pretty pug was popular.

bawcock - This is a man-to-man endearment, ‘fine fellow, my good man’, from French (beau coq ‘fine cock’). It was often used sarcastically, as when Sir Toby Belch teases Malvolio, calling him ‘my bawcock’ (Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, c.1602, 3.4.112).

nutting - The modern use of nut (‘crazy person’) makes it difficult to appreciate the way this word was earlier (17th century) used to mean ‘source of delight’, especially in the phrase for nuts (‘for fun’). A single OED citation from the play Wily Beguiled shows the unusual (to modern eyes) association: Will Cricket addresses ‘sweet Pegge’ with an extravagance of endearments: ‘my nutting, my sweeting, my love, my dove, my honey, my bonny, my duck, my dear, and my darling’.

bagpudding - The word does indeed mean ‘a pudding boiled in bag’, and might seem out of place in this list. But the context of its single recorded use, in playwright John Day’s Humour out of Breath, suggests a jocular sense of ‘clown’ or ‘buffoon’.

cabbage - One of relatively few vegetables that have become endearments, often in the form my (little) cabbage. The usage shows the influence of the equivalent expression in French, mon (petit) chou.

prawn - The dominant human application of prawn was unflattering, but there is a single OED citation suggesting that, for some people at least, the noun could be an endearment. ‘I expect you’re a saucy young prawn, Emma’, says a character in William Pett Ridge’s Minor Dialogues (1895).

pussums - The source is ultimately baby-talk, where diddums (did ’em = ‘did they’) as an expression of commiseration is known from the late 19th century. The -ums ending then had a limited productivity in jocular pet-name vocabulary between playful adults. Pussums came to be used in talking to both people and cats; snookums (1919) for people and lap-dogs. Most recently, we find people and dogs addressed as pookums (probably from pooch), though sociolinguistic lexicography has yet to establish who is responsible.

lamb-chop - A woman in Ellis Lucia’s memoir, Klondike Kate (1962, ch. 2) is described as ‘quite a lamb chop’.

Source ⚜ Notes & References ⚜ Historical Thesaurus

50 Terms of Endearment

This selection of words used as terms of endearment over the past thousand years shows several items that have stood the test of time, notably darling and dear, and some recurring motifs, such as those from the semantic fields of taste and the animal kingdom. But several belong to their own time: bawcock and bully, for example, are encountered in Shakespeare.

darling (c. 888) ⚜ dear (c. 1230) ⚜ sweetheart (c. 1290)

heart (c. 1305) ⚜ honey (c. 1375) ⚜ dove (c. 1386)

cinnamon; love (c. 1405) ⚜ mulling (c. 1475) ⚜ daisy (c. 1485)

mouse (c. 1520) ⚜ whiting (c. 1529) ⚜ fool (c. 1530) ⚜ beautiful (1535)

soul (c. 1538) ⚜ bully (1548) ⚜ lamb (c. 1556) ⚜ pussy (c. 1557)

ding-ding (1564) ⚜ lover (1573) ⚜ pug (1580) ⚜ mopsy (1582)

bun (1587) ⚜ wanton (1589) ⚜ ladybird (1597) ⚜ chuck (1598)

sweetkin (1599) ⚜ duck; joy (1600) ⚜ sparrow (c. 1600)

bawcock (c. 1601) ⚜ nutting (1606) ⚜ tickling (1607)

bagpudding (1608) ⚜ dainty (1611) ⚜ flitter-mouse (1612)

pretty (1616) ⚜ old thing (c. 1625) ⚜ duckling (1630) ⚜ sweetling (1648)

pet (1767) ⚜ sweetie (1778) ⚜ cabbage (1840) ⚜ prawn (1895)

so-and-so (1897) ⚜ pumpkin (1900) ⚜ pussums (1912)

treasure (1920) ⚜ sugar (1930) ⚜ lamb-chop (1962)

Source ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Notes: On Love ⚜ Love Advice ⚜ "I love you" Word Lists: Love Pt. 1 Pt. 2 ⚜ Physiology of Love ⚜ Synonyms ⚜ Kinds of Love

[kaphyr]

Ch 39 - The Long Defeat Update

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey’d monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss, Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger: But O, what damned minutes tells he o’er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!” ― William Shakespeare, Othello

Katsuki and Deku’s relationship is questioned. Katsuki investigates Deku, learns very little of what he needs, too much of what he doesn’t want.

Fic Link: The Long Defeat

Fic Summary

After a decade of separation, Katsuki and Izuku meet. They are both heroes but on different sides where it matters. Eijirō has a lot of figuring out to do. He’s got OFA and no clue how to honour this legacy and is even more confused about the feelings he’s having for a middle-ranking hero. Shigaraki is lost in the wake of AFO’s defeat and frustrated with the League of Villains and its partners’ progress. He’s got destruction at his fingertips and he’s itching to use it.

Or: The way too political dekubowl no one asked for.

[Updates every 2 weeks on Tuesday]

[raisab332012]

Answer to Why was Anne Boleyn portrayed by a black actress in a TV show, when she clearly was not? by Daniel Kaplan https://www.quora.com/Why-was-Anne-Boleyn-portrayed-by-a-black-actress-in-a-TV-show-when-she-clearly-was-not/answer/Daniel-Kaplan?ch=18&oid=378574848&share=469682ec&srid=7KVRc&target_type=answer

[isabelpsaroslunnen]

A friend of the family in Canada sent us a box of Nanaimo bar mixes, which turned out gloriously. Still, I did find this label pretty funny, despite being very familiar with the overlap between the English and French lexicons.

All we need now is King Lear the baking show and Edmund shouting “Why brand they us with base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base?” as he waves a spatula.

[catsinparis]

“Out of the dawn

Trembling with moon-mist

The glow of the sun-gold rose!

Wild as a wood-bird note,

Fragrant as crushed wine.”

— Ophelia Roses

[thelarkophelia]

Modern Shakespeare Characters 13/? 

Oliver de Bois from “As You Like It” 

 “Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?”

[weloveperioddrama]

Which is Beatrice? I answer to that name. What is your will?

(requested by anonymous)

[amotorcyleandchocolates]

Seventh Year Spooks Ch 3: Thou still let'st slip

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15976820/chapters/41570033

Lily stared at Remus with an awestruck expression that slowly turned into a smirk and glint in her eye, “I love it.”

Remus looked to the other Marauders, “See I told you my plans are the best.”

Sirius grinned and looked at his boyfriend with love-struck admiration and James and Peter nodded sagely. The five of them were lingering at the Gryffindor table, huddled over their breakfasts.

“We should probably get to class then.We’ll be in a load of trouble with McGonagall if we miss her class,” James said sadly.

They all nodded and hurried to grab their things and rush out of the Great Hall. In the nick of time, they made it to her class with a clambering of sounds and distractions. Professor McGonagall looked up from her desk through the rim of her classes and huffed. “Evans, I do hope you don’t let their follies rub off on you.”

Lily turned a bright shade of red and James smirked as a few snickers went around the room. Everyone was aware Lily had been putting off his advances for years and it was still an occasional topic of gossip that she had finally found the Potter boy charming. Remus shot her a look of sympathy from his seat across the room and she smiled gratefully in return.

After the lecture, Remus hung back to talk to some of the other seventh years that he spent time studying with in the library. One them was a girl that had strove to be prefect before Mary got it, a slightly nosy blonde. “Remus, I know they’re your best friends but you can’t slip on your prefect duties.”

The other three Marauders were hanging back and talking to Lily, pretending they weren’t listening to their every word. They had discussed enacting the plan on the way over and were waiting to see if Remus was going to follow through.

The lanky boy looked around to check nobody was watching and leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m not sure why they were later actually. I imagine James and Lily were together and Sirius and Peter were probably following them to mess about. But I was looking into a complaint from a first year about a new ghost.”

Mary stood next to Remus and looked quizzically at him, the first time she had heard of it but didn’t say anything. She usually went along with what he said, being fully aware that occasionally it was a Marauders plot. Being roommates with Lily taught her as much over the years. Remus internally thanked his lucky stars.

The blonde and her friend were both gleaming with the information. “What was so special about the ghost that warranted it?” the friend asked.

“Oh well you know, just the typical ghost stuff. He was lingering about trying to scare this first year. He has a mask but he took it off and showed a face that was basically his entire skull. No nose, eyes sunken in and just really corpse-like. The first year was scared out of his wits.”

The two girls looked concerned and even Mary was biting her lip. But Remus continued, “I was looking about the castle for him but I didn’t find him. I’m sure it was nothing though. He’s probably just a wizard that had a really unfortunate accident and mostly harmless, I assume.”

Remus looked back over his shoulder and pretended to notice his friends for the first time. “Oh they must be waiting for me. Mary, we can talk about the ghost tonight at dinner to make sure we let everyone know, yeah?”

She nodded, her honey colored hair swinging in its ponytail. “Of course! I’ll keep an eye out in the meantime and let the head boy and girl know.”

“Great,” Remus said brightly and waved at his study group before shuffling up to Sirius and his friends. His boyfriend linked their arms and the group strolled out together and down the hall.

Ever the cat that ate the canary, Sirius poked at Remus’ side. “Well?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of the boy’s lips. “The game is afoot.”

Lily and James were walking with their fingers interlaced and Lily rolled her eyes. “Okay Shakespeare.”

“That’s a muggle poet right?” James asked completely serious.

Everyone in the group turned to look at him in pity, but Peter was the one who spoke first. “Even I know that James. Honestly, do you read anything?”

Sirius, Lily, Remus choked on their laughter as James flushed and they scurried off to their next class.

[janiedean]

Hi! I really trust your judgement when in comes to analyzing literature, and I was just curious, but do you think Robb or Theon holds more parallels with Hamlet? I'm asking bc it just occurred to me when I last encountered this amount of guilt in an inner monologue

hey!

so, short version: I once wrote the hamlet au where theon was hamlet admittedly not my idea but I’d have cast it the exact same way if it had been so I think that answers in itself, BUT that said..

long version: 100% theon because robb has technically zero in common with hamlet other than being the first in line to inherit his father’s throne/position, but when it comes to theon and hamlet we havet:

problematic relationship with the father

the father is also a 100% asshole who wants hamlet/theon to avenge him for wrongs that might be real or perceived

the whole madness plot - ie hamlet pretends to be insane to further his ploy, theon’s acok arc is basically about his mental health going into the drain

coming from a land where there’s something *rotten*/where no one is happy

the crazy uncles that might have murdered the father (euron for balon, claudius for hamlet’s father)

complicated relationship with the mother (tho poor alannys isn’t exactly on the same level as gertrude)

if we go REALLY meta we can argue that hamlet was technically being spied on/led on by rosencratz/guildenstern while theon was being spied/led on by ramsay-posing-as-reek

and we can also say that theon has to *act* as reek while hamlet has to *act* insane

hamlet is behind polonius’s death when he didn’t mean to kill him, theon has ordered the miller’s children’s dead and he’s regretted it ever since (this one is not as heavy as the ones above but)

theon sacrifices his only healthy-ish rship (robb) to go with his father’s crappy war, hamlet sacrifices his rship with ophelia to avenge his father

as you pointed out HELLO GUILT

like robb has none of that in his storyline and tbh he has more in common with coriolanus trope-wise not personality-wise but yeah no when it comes to hamlet there’s no way the one with similarities isn’t theon ;)

[operabooknerd68]

Favorite version of this play

Much Ado About Nothing (1993) dir. Kenneth Branagh