THE SATURN THEORY
Welcome to my theory about the importance of the planet Saturn in Taylor Swift’s process and the organisation/release timescale of her rerecordings! This theory is all my own work!
This theory began when the Karma Music Video came out. I thought the scene in the Karma Music Video where Taylor and Ice Spice lasso the moon and Saturn was a weird reference to make, as it seemingly references the song "seven" from folklore and the lyric "love you to the moon and to Saturn". The imagery of Saturn especially just struck me as odd for months!
Now with the 112 theory and the Karma cycle theory being popularised I started looking more in-depth to what Saturn means trying to make sense of why Taylor would use it, as it just felt like it HAD to be an easter egg for me! And what I've found...ohhhh man I found a BIG amount of links that I think is far too much to be accidental. Because if you know Taylor, nothing is EVER accidental.
I started by looking at what the planet Saturn means in astrology. I love astrology and find it really interesting. Each planet has keywords which describe it.
SATURN IS THE PLANET OF KARMA.
It is in charge of Karma and in astrology it is said that "one can use Saturn's energy in order to break free of the cycle of rebirth".
This gave me an instant link to the Karma Cycle we think is happening with rerecords, and the 112 day theory between rerecords releasing as there are 112 ways to break out of Karma.
These 112 ways of breaking free of the Karma Cycle achieve spiritual enlightenment. Which Saturn ALSO governs!
Why do I think Taylor is using Saturn?
Taylor was 29 years old when her masters were stolen from her in 2019.
Saturn takes 29 years to make a full orbit of the sun. In astrology, we call the years where Saturn is in the same place of your chart (aka has done a full orbit of the Sun) your Saturn reckoning.
Saturn reckoning is described as a "challenging time, but a time of great transformation".
Taylor's challenging time during her Saturn reckoning was her masters being sold away from her, and her great transformation is the ability to rerecord them.
We know Taylor is into astrology as she has made frequent references to it, for example in jewellery, usage of types of signs in her music, and using the Archer imagery to represent herself as a Sagittarius.
I believe that she looked into her astrology around the time her masters were stolen, and connected the dots between her Saturn reckoning and what was happening, and used it as the first point for creating the Karma cycle which became the 112 cycle.
She had almost a year to begin planning this before 'The Man' music video came out featuring the Karma wall, and then we went into lockdown a month later - I believe the covid pandemic basically gave her an insane amount of time to be able to plan out dates and timings and to look more heavily into what she could do with astrology.
We get our first Saturn reference in summer 2020 with the song 'seven' in folklore but we don't get our first instance of 112 until evermore in late 2020.
Saturn is the planet which controls TIME.
It controls clocks, time, watches, anything to do with the passing of time is controlled by Saturn.
I found this particularly interesting as Taylor has been referencing clocks TONNES during the Midnights album (It's a Clock, It tells time) and during the Era's Tour (The Clock countdown at the start of the tour and TaylorNation consistently post this every show).
Saturn's God is named Chronus, and is known as the God of Time or Father Time.
Chronus was said in ancient times to "devour his owns sons just as time devours seasons of the year as they come and go". Who else distinctly uses seasons or perhaps ERAS to separate her work? Taylor Swift.
Cronus was also said to have brought harmony and fruitfulness during the Golden Age, bringing abundance by hard work.
This really struck me as appearing how the rerecordings felt as a long time Taylor Swift fan and honestly how I imagine this process feels to her. She is bringing harmony by righting the wrongs done to her, fruitfulness to herself as she will now be able to make money off of her own music, and creating an abundance of music through the hardwork of rerecording and rereleasing them.
I also linked this to this Golden scene in the Karma music video, as it appears very Golden Age to me + Karma is spray painted in the background on one of the pillars.
An imagery of Cronus in Taylor Swift's work was from the Apple Music 'evermore' detailed interview, talking about how the album came to be and going more in-depth with it. Taylor is sat with a painting to her lefthand side and a small statue behind her to the right. I believe that this statue is one of the God Saturn aka Cronus. Saturn and Cronus are the same thing, just in Roman and Greek mythology they look different. This statue appears to be the Roman version.
Whilst not overly clear, I do personally believe this to be Cronus, as you can see him holding a sickle/scythe whilst wearing a toga.
Cronus's Scythe.
The imagery of a Scythe or Sickle is important. It is a symbol of Saturn and is the way Cronus reaps the seeds of time. Where have we seen imagery using a scythe/sickle in Taylor Swift's work? In the Karma music vide, in the scene where she blows a kiss to the 3 Grim Reapers who are all holding scythes. Grim Reapers are also noted to be signs of Saturn. This here is an image of how Cronus is depicted in his non toga wearing form. Note the large scythe.
Compared to the scene from Karma there is a clear connection.
THE MIDDLE FINGER
In Palmistry, Saturn is linked to the middle finger. Note the usage of this in both Karma and I Bet You Think About Me
also note how it says “servant”? where have we seen a servant in Taylor’s media? Oh yes Bejeweled, the video with “an insane ludicrous amount of easter eggs” that “needed a PDF file to keep track of them all”…I think this could be connected!
This is only part 1 I have SO much more to post!!! Please let me know what you think! I’m posting lots about it on tiktok @/ellie.glendinning and my messages are open here & on tiktok if anyone would like to clown over this with me!
PART 2:
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it was supposed to be short n small and now its 3k & its unedited and u all have to just deal with it bcos it was supposed to be SMALL | ao3
The driver's side car window makes a resounding thunk when Steve’s forehead falls against it.
Through the glass, his keys glint tauntingly back at him.
Still tucked in the ignition, locked in on the inside. So close and yet so far from Steve who is, unfortunately, locked on the outside.
I’m such a fucking idiot.
He lets his head raise up a bit just to drop it back against the window again, this time more in punishment. Of course, of course, he coughs up the money needed for a warrant of fitness and then he goes and locks his keys in the car the next day. Like he needed one more cost added to his finances.
Steve steals a glance at his watch. Fuck, if he doesn’t get on the road in the next 10 minutes, he’ll be more than late to work.
His eyes glance across to Eddie’s van, parked beside his own car, outside the trailer home in Forest Hills. Then he looks back at the trailer.
He can ask. He can just go inside and ask Eddie for the lift— and explain that the reason he can’t take his own perfectly fine car is because he’s so goddamn thick between the ears that he’s locked his keys inside, like some kind of moron.
The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like his father.
Something thick grows in his throat. He swallows it to no avail. Embarrassment begins to flush down his neck, hot and uncomfortable.
No, no— he can’t ask Eddie because as far as Steve knows, Eddie hasn’t quite figured it out yet.
Even while Dustin and Mike make their jokes about him being a bit slow, even when Robin says at least you have your pretty face, Eddie brushes them off and laughs. Takes them as jokes with no merit to them. Steve knows though.
So what if he doesn’t want to burst his bubble just yet?
He knows Eddie will figure it out eventually— because they always do. When he asks too many stupid questions and needs things explained twice and— and it’s just inevitable, okay? He knows that.
Fixing his glare through the window of his car at the shiny pair of keys within, Steve wrestles with what would be worse; being late or accidentally tipping Eddie off when they’ve just gotten so close.
Close enough to share a kiss, two nights ago, under the covers. It was barely more than a peck. But Steve knew it had taken a miraculous amount of courage from Eddie to do it— to surge forward and grab Steve’s face, his rings cool against his skin, and press his mouth against his Steve's own.
Eddie’s lips had been chapped but his smile had been pure sunshine and Steve thinks he could’ve stayed forever under that blanket, memorising the shade of pink Eddie’s cheeks turn after a kiss.
They’ve been dancing around it ever since. Each interaction is more charged, more flirty, more gooey. Long lingering looks and pointed nudges that make Steve feel like a 14-year-old with a crush again, in the best way.
So, no. He exactly can’t go ask.
With a heavy sigh and glance up at the darkening sky, Steve is only glad he’s not supposed to pick up Robin today as he begins to walk.
—
One phone call to the auto-shop reveals exactly how much it’ll cost to get his keys retrieved. Which is, to say, entirely too much for one adult living on the wage of a Family Video employee.
And they won’t be able to get anyone out for another whole day.
Growing more and more frustrated with himself, Steve angrily jots the number down into his little notebook, the pen pressing down hard enough to leave indents on the page behind it. Keith is somewhere out the back, snacking no doubt, and leaving Steve to man the front.
Normally, it wouldn’t bother him— especially because he could discretely make the phone call he needed— but now it’s just him, the empty store, and the number in his notebook that stares back at him.
Oh, and it’s raining.
The darkening sky from earlier had transformed into something closer to a thunderstorm, rain lashing against the windows and driving any and all customers away. Which is fantastic— just what Steve needs now, really the fucking cherry on the top.
The phone rings, the noise unusually shrill in the silence of the store. The film playing amongst the aisles has been on mute as soon as he’d gotten his hands on the remote and Keith had disappeared out the back.
Steve stares at the phone, watching it ring once, twice, before he picks it up with a heavy sigh. He dredges up his customer service voice.
“This is Family Video, how can I help?” He greets, putting as much pep into his voice as he can manage—which turns out to be a meagre amount.
“Did you walk to work today?”
Steve straightens up at the sound of Eddie’s voice on the other end of the line. His free hand instinctively smooths down the front of his vest before he quickly remembers Eddie can’t actually see him.
“Eddie?” He asks, instead of answering the question.
“Your Highness, himself,” Eddie responds. His tone is that usual jaunty playfulness that Steve’s come to adore. “Now answer the question, Steve-o. I thought you were one of those smart guys who actually listens when the weather report comes on the radio. Why the hell did you walk?”
Steve’s shoulders curl in, just an inch, and his eyes seek out the open notebook with the quoted amount, underlined and circled, staring back at him. His throat grows a lump at Eddie’s unknowingly poor choice of words.
“Thought I would walk today.” He replies, his voice clipped. “You know, walking, exercise, good for you? Any of these ringing a bell for you, Munson?”
It’s supposed to be a joke but Steve can tell by the end of the sentence, it’s come out way too sour to land that way. He sounds mean.
Steve cringes, clutching the phone a little tighter and screwing up his eyes. He waits for Eddie’s response.
“You know,” Eddie says, sounding a lot duller all of a sudden. “I was calling to maybe offer you a lift through the rain—”
“Sorry, I’m sorry, that-“ Steve cuts in, that same strange embarrassment swelling in his throat. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
“—But if you’re gonna be a dick about it, you can enjoy the walk.”
Steve grits his teeth and pinches the bridge of his nose because this feels a little too much like a line from his Dad— but it isn’t because Steve is the one digging this hole all on his own. He’s the idiot who fucking locked his keys in his car and walked to work and snapped at Eddie and—
“No, I’m sorry.” He says, still a bit too tense.
Idiot, idiot, you’re being a fucking idiot, Harrington.
“A ride would be appreciated. Please.”
A pause. This time when Eddie speaks, he’s a little softer. “You off at five today?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I’ll see you at five.”
The dial tone sounds as Eddie hangs up but Steve stays where he is, phone pressed against his one good ear, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The rain begins to flood the parking lot.
—
Five o’clock comes around too soon.
The rain has let up, just barely, but enough that Steve can actually see Eddie’s van when it pulls up into the parking lot. It rocks about dangerously in the wind and Steve suddenly feels bad for making Eddie come out to get him.
He could’ve stayed here, taken the longer shift. Told Keith to take off early and just walked back home when the rain let up a little more— or just camped out the back on the couch in the employee room if it never did.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
He’d started doing it more and more when his parent’s visits to home became more frequent. It was easy to pull a few white lies out and Steve far preferred answering questions like: Where were you last night? than Why won't you come out to our event tonight? Show face for the Harrington's? It's not like you're doing anything with your life, right?
The only reason he’d stopped, actually, was because he had become good friends with Eddie.
Eddie, who loved his company almost any hour of the day. Who gobbled up each and every morsel of food Steve cooked up, whether it was good or partially burned on the sides. Who told him he had a place in the trailer, day or night, rain or shine.
Eddie who… was waiting outside at five o’clock exactly, pulled up to the curb so Steve wouldn’t have to walk through the rain for more than a moment.
There’s a sliver of surprise, deep within his chest; like he thought Eddie might’ve not shown up and forced him to walk through the rain, just to learn his lesson. It would make sense, Steve thinks. You reap what you sow.
He clocks out hastily, barely murmuring his exit to Keith who doesn’t look up in the slightest. Steve heads for the door and decides then and there, he’ll happily pay the number in his notebook if he doesn’t have to tell Eddie what a fucking moron he actually is.
Water splashes as he dashes down the steps and Eddie’s leaning across, pushing the door open so Steve doesn’t even have to wait to yank it open in the rain. He slides in, sprinkled with rain, slams the door closed, and instantly gets blasted with heat.
“God, you’re a lifesaver,” Steve sighs, sticking his hands out towards the air vents which are working in overdrive. They whir loudly in complaint. Eddie smiles, the apples of his cheeks glowing in the warmth, and twists the wheel, his eyes on the road before him.
The van groans and the bumper dips, kissing the gutter, as they roll out onto the road and head for Forest Hills. For a moment, Eddie focuses on driving straight before he flicks his gaze across to Steve.
“You know I wouldn’t have actually let you walk, right?”
Steve blinks, unsure of what to say in response, because he actually did think that was a possibility until about 2 minutes ago. He shivers as a stray drop in his hair sneaks under his collar, cold and wet.
“Right.” He answers, giving a hesitant smile back.
They’re driving slower than usual due to the rain. Steve lets himself sink back into the worn seats of the van, comforted by the familiar smells. A tang of tobacco, a stronger hint of weed, and that musky deodorant that Eddie swears by— even if Steve has never heard of the brand before.
But, well, it must be working in some sense because when Steve takes a deep breath, he smells it and feels a sense of calm. He doesn’t even notice he’s begun staring.
The strange weather has made Eddie’s hair frizzier than usual and paired with his rosy cheeks, Steve thinks he looks goddamn delectable. He gets caught up in a daydream about having a hot chocolate when they get back to the trailer, maybe even sharing a blanket on the couch and—
And then, Eddie turns and says, “So, wanna tell me why you walked? For real, this time?”
Something shrivels up within Steve. The tightness in his throat from this morning returns. He turns his head and looks out the window.
“I don’t get why you don’t believe me when I say I walked because I wanted to.” He grumbles, almost too low for Eddie to hear over the rain.
Why are they still talking about this? He thinks of the keys through the driver’s side window, thinks of the number in his notebook and the much smaller one in his bank account, and has to hold back from thumping his head against the glass again.
Something metallic jingles behind him.
Steve whips around, his eyes zeroing in on his keys dangling from Eddie’s hand— clearly just retrieved from his pocket. Something ugly and warm wakes up inside him, his stomach knotting uncomfortably, and his cheeks start to burn in embarrassment.
Idiot, Idiot, Idiot.
He knows, he already fucking knows how stupid you are.
Eddie’s eyes dart off the road to look at Steve. “Cos you’re clearly not telling the truth.”
Steve averts his gaze, turning his face back to the window and the wet pavement rushing by beneath the car. He swallows but the lump in his throat doesn’t move.
“Okay, look I don’t actually care that you walked to work,” Eddie continues, placing the keys down in the cup holder between the seats. “I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me that they were locked in your car.”
Steve can’t help it, the way his shoulders hike up. His teeth sink into his bottom lip meanly, nearly drawing blood. He doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it— Eddie’s still trying to rationalise away what everyone else has already figured out.
“I just—” Steve starts, on the defence, but it comes out a bit too wet. He forces himself to swallow again, thankful there’s no sting of tears in his eyes. “I can fix that shit on my own. That’s all.”
“Well, yeah,” Eddie agrees.
Below them both, the hum of the van begins to dwindle and Steve realises abruptly that Eddie’s slowing down, pulling over to the side of the road. He looks to the side, at Eddie.
“Please, c’mon, I just wanna go home, man.” Steve pleads, not even caring that he’s referred so casually to Eddie’s trailer as his home.
“Wait, just,” Eddie waves a hand as he sticks the van into park, releasing the wheel and properly turning to Steve.
“I just want to understand. You know I can pop the door to most cars in, like, 5 minutes. Why didn’t you just ask?”
“Eddie,” Steve stresses, turning away with a pointed sigh. He runs a hand through his hair, latching onto the roots and tugging at it. “Just leave it, please.”
“Or asked for a lift!” Eddie continues, his hands gesturing out a bit wildly. “I could’ve given you a lift even.”
Steve's eyes slice across the van and he wills back every emotional outburst that wants to lash out of him, to poke the right spot that will hurt to get Eddie to back off.
But Eddie is just staring at him, brown eyes wide, a little furrow between his brows, and is just confused. Concerned.
“If you keep driving,” Steve murmurs, almost dejectedly. He ducks his head low and turns back to the window. “I’ll tell you.”
It works— the engine rumbles back to life and the wheels roll gently back out onto the road, just a couple more minutes from Forest Hills. Steve watches the road and tries to grasp for the right thing to say, each possibility dissolving like smoke. His eyes squeeze shut tightly. The rain dins loudly on the roof of the van, a song and dance of the elements.
By the time they’re entering Forest Hills, Steve still hasn’t said a word. The van crawls up into its usual spot, next to Steve’s own car, and Steve stares down at it. He can hear the soft click of Eddie’s seatbelt as he releases it.
He supposes it’s too late now, anyway. Eddie already knows. He keeps his eyes out the window as he speaks, his voice flat and dull.
“I just... I didn’t want you to think that I’m an idiot, too.”
There’s a questioning noise behind him, a little noise from Eddie’s throat that slips out, unbidden.
“Too?” He echoes. “Steve? Who thinks you’re an idiot?”
Steve huffs loudly and turns back, throwing his hands up. “Jesus, who doesn’t? Would you like a list?”
Eddie’s face twists into a meaner expression than Steve's ever seen before and for once, he properly matches the dark clothes and spooky tattoos he dons.
“Yes. And I’ll go door to door— wait,” He shuffles, shifting up onto his knees so he can stretch over the console and place his large hands on either side of Steve’s face, directing his gaze towards him.
It’s reminiscent of a kiss not too long ago. Despite all the burning self-deprecation that churns inside, the pleasant reminder dulls it significantly.
“I’ll go door to door to anyone who ever made you feel that way,” Eddie repeats, now face to face with Steve, their noses nearly touching. His brows are still pull tight into a furious frown. But it's not at him, Steve realises. “And I’ll do something— I’m not sure what yet, but it’ll be foul and like, maybe I’ll put instant mash potatoes on their lawn and— okay the specifics aren’t relevant but this— this is.”
He searches Steve’s face intently, eyes darting around, making sure the message is sinking in. His expression softens out, his eyes suddenly sweeter than before. “You’re aren’t an idiot, Steve. You aren’t an idiot for making a mistake and I’ve never thought that about you.”
Steve blinks. Swallows heavily and god fucking dammit, is the thickness in his throat ever going to disappear? This time it feels different though. He’s not sure how.
“You don’t think I’m an idiot, do you?” Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head, moving Eddie’s hands with them at the same time. It’s true, he doesn’t. Eddie is… goddamn fucking wonderful. He’s like a warm summer shower through the wretched seasons of Steve’s life. One of the reasons it was worth living through the entire ordeal of 86.
The rain outside continues, pitter-pattering on the roof, somehow softer than it was a second ago.
“Okay,” Eddie says, a small smile on tugging on his lips.
“Okay,” Steve says back. He tries for a smile and it’s easier than expected, though it wobbles at the ends. It doesn’t matter— Eddie is still gazing at him, brown eyes shining and Steve believes what he says.
“Okay,” Eddie says one more time, his smile turning closer to a grin. “Let’s go make some cocoa, yeah?”
He moves to retract his hands but Steve moves faster, his hands darting up to hold them in their place, palms against his cheeks.
“Wait,” Steve murmurs, watching how Eddie stills and keeps his closeness, their noses still a couple inches from touching— and Steve clings to the threads of courage in him tightly.
His hands slide off Eddie’s, grasping lightly at his wrists, and it’s easy to lean forward and connect their mouths in one swift motion.
Eddie squeaks— then melts.
It takes half a second before he remembers to kiss back, equally as enthusiastic and it’s nothing like the first kiss they shared under the covers. The rain dances around them and Steve swipes his thumbs over Eddie’s pulse soothing, feeling the barest jump of his rabbiting pulse.
When he shifts back, breaking the kiss, Steve keeps the closeness, the tips of their noses bumping together. Eddie’s hands feel blazing warm on Steve’s cheeks but when his lashes flutter open, catching sight of Eddie’s glorious pink cheeks, he thinks it might be his face burning up too.
They tumble inside through the rain and with all of Steve’s prayers answered today, they also share a blanket on the couch, ankles linked beneath the rumpled fabric. They make hot chocolate, Steve’s style, and sip it at, making googly eyes at each other over the rim of their mugs— until Eddie laughs too much and spits it down his front.
Steve doesn’t feel stupid again— unless that is, you count feeling stupidly sappy.
(He does not.)
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