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#To lovers actually (???)
jun-hug · 1 month
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nap on a patch of dandelions sounds great
print! | kofi ♡
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canisalbus · 13 days
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✦ Freshly ordained ✦
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darlingvhs · 8 months
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typing “me n who?” knowing that i am difficult and unlovable
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knifeslidez · 7 months
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THAT GIRL'S NOT RIGHT IN THE BRAIN
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mikeyfrickinway · 1 year
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Since I'm almost done working on em here's my demolition lovers costumes so far!
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I started this in like mid/late March I believe
This is my first time doing beading ever, I probably should have started with something smaller or even tested on some scrap but I am nothing if not stupidly ambitious.
I wanna say this is roughly 14hours of work so far, I still want to add more to the dress and possibly make some accessories, we will see what I can get done by Saturday lol
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haeryna · 5 months
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the purest shade of white ↪ okkotsu yuuta x reader ⸙͎。˚⋆ 𓋼
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summary: yuuta looks almost like an angel, you think to yourself grimly, as you shift on the balls of your feet. you haven't seen your best friend in a couple years now, not since he left for africa. too bad he's attempting to kill the kouhai that you're trying to protect.
tw: manga spoilers! anime watchers, do not read. mild angst but happy ending. starts at the beginning of ch. 139. naoya zenin is here and he is his classic asshole self. reader is in the same grade as yuuta, both in age and in terms of cursed energy. swearing because reader is a bad bitch. mildly suggestive. unironic use of "senpai" and "kouhai." slight descriptions of blood and injury, everyone is subjected to the author's attempts at writing dialogue and fight scenes. not proofread but at this point that shouldn't be a surprise. it is blatantly obvious that the writer also does not know how to end stories
notes: thank you for 100 new friends! :) poll is technically still up but i'm impatient and yuuta was winning by a pretty decent margin so here it is lol. divider by @/saradika-graphics!
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"Yuuji!" you yelp, slicing the head off a curse with a clean stroke of your katana. Purple ichor splatters to the ground as you whirl, searching for the familiar head of pink hair. "Stay close to me!"
Behind you, Choso grunts with exertion, sending out another bolt of Piercing Blood. Panting, you weave through the curses, letting their corpses fall behind you. Yuuji, where is Yuuji?
As the last body falls, you can't but let out an exasperated huff at the sheepish grin on Yuuji's face. "Don't scare me like that," you chide. "How am I supposed to protect you if I can't even find you?" Yuuji opens his mouth to protest but you shake your head. "I made a promise," you tell him, pain rippling through your heart dully. Gojo-sensei was long gone, stolen away by one of the people he had loved most in the world. Grimacing, you sheathe your katana, mindful of the blood that stains your palms, as you try to ignore the memory of his words all those months ago.
If anything happens, I need you to protect Itadori Yuuji. I know they're going to pull something on him once I'm not there to back him up.
"Senpai, what should-"
Yuuji immediately tenses as your hand flies to the grip of your katana. "I smell a rat," you mutter, nose wrinkling as you turn to face Naoya Zenin, standing atop a bridge. He bares his teeth at you in semblance of a smile. "How perceptive as always," he mocks.
"Cut the bullshit," you snap, hand still resting on the pommel. "What do you want?"
"Fushiguro Megumi," is his rather bland response, and you shift your feet into the opening steps of Flowing River.
"What do you want with Fushiguro?" Yuuji yells, and the way Naoya's face twists makes you want to vomit.
"I think I'll have him die."
Cursed energy fills your body as you leap. Naoya's resounding cackle burns through your ears as you swing, barely grazing his shoulder. Before you can push forward off your feet, a heavy presence rests on your shoulders, locking you in place. All four of you freeze. Yuuji and Choso look horrified, and Naoya looks as though he's broken out into a cold sweat. But you know this feeling, feel it settle back into your body as if it never left.
Okkotsu Yuuta steps out from the building ledge, dark eyes unreadable. Your body sings. Yuuta, Yuuta, Yuuta! His hair has grown longer, bangs sweeping over his forehead, eyebags a little darker than they used to be. You can feel Rika's presence, swirling around you in a mass of death and decay. You're used to it. You've grown to crave it, even. His eyes meet yours, and for a split second, his facade cracks. Confusion, fear, and...regret?
Yuuta leaps, slamming into concrete and sending shockwaves deep into your bones. "Who's with Itadori?" God, even his voice is different, so different from the boy who said goodbye to you so long ago. You open your mouth to speak, but Choso beats you to it, brows furrowed.
"So you're Yuuji's executioner."
Blood turns to ice in your veins, and you can tell by the pained expression Yuuta has that you aren't hiding your emotions as well as you think you are. Naoya laughs. "I was going to tell you that, but you were being too emotional like the bitch you are."
"Who're you?"
Yuuta's voice is cold, but as Naoya babbles on, you can feel the horror settle thickly into your chest. Choso and Yuuji are talking behind you but it feels like you're underwater, you're sinking, drowning, and Yuuta must have come to a conclusion because all of a sudden he's surging forward-
You move before you can even think, steel clashing against steel. "Yuuji," you say, through gritted teeth. "Run."
A horrible grating noise fills the air as you let cursed energy flow through your body, shoving Yuuta's sword away from yourself. "I won't let you kill him," you hiss, body already shifting into Jagged Bolt. Yuuta's eyes flash as you surge forward, katana in hand.
"How would you describe my cursed technique?" you had asked Gojo, mindlessly swinging your feet. Gojo hums.
"Have you ever heard of Newton's Law's of Motion?"
You had crinkled your nose at that. "No?"
"An object in motion, stays in motion. Except you are the object. And your cursed energy is the motion." You remember how Gojo's lips curved slightly. "In other words, once you start, nobody can stop you."
You're crying, you realize with a start, as you cut a line into Yuuta's chest. Moisture seeps from your eyes as you twist your forearm into a parry, katanas sparking with each strike. Belatedly, you sense that Yuuji, your foolish, stupid, loyal kouhai has stayed, trading strikes with his fists between the precise movements of your blade. Your heart drops as Yuuta reaches for the ring on his finger.
No. No!
He twists it, and Rika appears behind you. Claws sink into your shoulder and you let out a cry of pain as she flips you into the ground.
"Be nice, Rika," Yuuta chides, as you hit the concrete. Blood spurts from your mouth as you choke, fingers clawing at the ground desperately for your katana. A piece of scaffolding is practically crushing your legs; instinctively, you know that if you try to break through it, you'll tear your limbs right off.
As Rika holds Yuuji up, you lunge desperately, uncaring of what you have to sacrifice. Inumaki's arm, the way half of Nobara's face had been practically ripped out of her skull, the remains of Nanami-san, the way that you were the one to find Maki's charred body-
I can't lose anyone else.
You scream as Yuuta pierces Yuuji's chest with his katana, cursed energy building in your legs as you prepare to shoot forward. Yuuta turns, eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion as he sees you about to tear yourself in half just to reach Yuuji.
With a wave of his hand, Rika dives for you, and everything goes dark.
Yuuta had known you were special from the day he'd first met you. That spring, when Gojo-sensei had dropped him (and Rika) into a class of unsuspecting first years, he remembers that out of the four of them, you had moved so gracefully that he hadn't processed the katana in your hand until you'd pressed it against your throat.
"Gojo-sensei," you'd hissed. "What is this?"
While Maki, Inumaki, and Panda had been subsequently bruised up by Rika, you had dodged every single one of her movements until Rika had been (barely) called back by Yuuta.
"Another Special Grade," Gojo had hummed. "Just like you, hm?"
Special Grade?
What he hadn't realized then, he realized later; you weren't just special to him, but to the entire rest of the Jujutsu World as well. Special Grade Sorcerers were rare, Maki had told him. "You only have it because of Rika," she'd scoffed, "but she deserves it."
You quickly became one of his closest friends. You were fast enough to dodge Rika's ire, even laughing whenever she tried. You'd shown Yuuta kindness that he didn't think he deserved. You broke him out of his shell enough so that when he left for Africa, he felt as though he was standing with his own strength. His first katana had been the sister blade of your own, forged from the same metal by the same hands. The way your eyes had lit up when you saw it was a memory he cherished.
Somberly, Yuuta eyes the chains encasing your wrists and ankles, each decorated with the slips of protective paper that would nullify your cursed energy. Most sorcerers required only one. You required at least twenty.
He knows you, knows the way you always take the strawberry daifuku, leaving him the red bean ones even though he knows you prefer the red bean. He knows that you push yourself hard, harder than he's ever seen anyone work. But most of all, he knows your loyalty, how once your heart finally lets someone in, you'll never let them go.
Did you miss him like he missed you?
The chains are more for your own protection. He needs you to hear him out before you attempt to end his life for a second time. Yuuta knows now that Gojo must have asked you the same thing he'd asked him; to keep Itadori Yuji safe from the whims of the higher ups. Gojo, being the forgetful bastard he was, probably didn't alert you to the fact that he'd gone to Yuuta for help as well. Crouching, Yuuta eyes your body with a sad tilt of his lips. The injuries you'd sustained were immense, and it had taken quite a bit of his own cursed energy to reverse.
Will you forgive him?
You're asleep, breath hitching every so often. Yuuta wonders what you're dreaming of, before pushing the thought away. Tenderly, he cups your face in the palm of his hand, calloused fingers stroking your cheek.
"You need to wake up now," he murmurs, as your eyes flutter open, first in dazed confusion, before sharpening into panic.
"I'll miss you!" you'd cried, as you clung to Yuuta under the shade of the large oak. You were the first person he had told about his departure to Africa, and you took it hard. Yuuta had stood frozen as the first of your tears had dripped down your cheeks. It was the first time he'd seen you cry.
"I'll be back before you know it," he'd murmured, pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of your head. You'd looked up to him, eyes teary.
"Promise?"
"I promise," he'd said, interlocking his pinky with your own. A love like Yuuta's is a dangerous thing, you know, but in this moment you feel nothing but safe.
The first sensation you feel upon awakening is the dull ache in your (miraculously still attached) legs. The second is the warmth on your cheek. Yuuta is standing above you, hand gently resting against your face. Immediately you lunge forward, teeth bared. The rattle of chains stops you, and you swear. Of course he would have taken precautions. Yuuta looks almost hurt as you violently shake off his touch.
"Don't touch me, I swear to god I'm going to rip you apart."
Yuuta says your name sadly, but you're practically trembling with rage.
"He was just a kid, with the kind of power we wield, why the fuck would you listen to the higher ups?"
Yuuta echoes your name a bit more firmly, but you ignore him, tears building in your eyes.
"You're no better than the rest of them are you, you're just-"
"Senpai!"
Your heart stops as Yuuji pokes his head out from around the corner. They must have brought you back to Jujutsu Tech, you think distractedly. Just how long were you out?
"Yuuji!" you cry out, scanning his body for any injuries. He seems to be uninjured, but most importantly, he's alive. Tears fall down your cheeks. "Are you alright?"
Yuuji appears horrified by the sudden outburst as he hastily holds up his hands. "I'm fine, senpai, really, I'm sorry for worrying you. Okkotsu-san is actually on our side, I swear! It was a binding vow, that's why he had to actually kill me, but he did some really cool Reverse Technique shit and I'm all good now!"
Warily, you eye Yuuta, whose expression resembles that of a kicked puppy. "Okkotsu Yuuta," you say, voice hard. "Let me out of these chains right fucking now."
With a wave of his hand, the papers attached to the chains fall to the floor. Yuuta looks dejected as he looks away from you. "I'm so sor-"
Before he can finish you immediate tackle him into a hug, knocking the both of you into the floor as you bury your face into the soft slope of his neck. "You're such an idiot," you sob, unable to hide the rush of emotions going through you. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Tentatively, Yuuta wraps his arms around you, and you melt, pressing yourself closer to his body. "To be honest, I think Gojo-sensei is to blame. I think he forgot to mention to either of us that he asked us to do the exact same thing."
You let out a hiccupping laugh. "Of course he did. That forgetful asshole."
The sigh Yuuta lets out is shaky as he nuzzles the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry," he tells you earnestly. "I must have scared you, and Rika's mad at me for making me hurt you like that. I think she likes you, even though she pretends not to."
You look up at him, really look at him, and see the look of adoration in his eyes as he stares back down at you. Thankfully Yuuji's escaped long ago, most likely understanding that you two would need privacy. "You came back," you whisper, and Yuuta's resulting smile makes your heart skip a beat.
"I promised you, didn't I?"
Before you can stop yourself, you pull Yuuta down for a searing kiss. He's so soft, and you nip at the plush of his bottom lip teasingly, pulling a whine from his throat. His large hands grip your hips, and in retaliation, you grab a fistful of his hair and tug. The breathy noise he makes goes straight between your thighs. You know he can feel your smile against his lips.
"I missed you," you breathe, pulling away. Yuuta looks dazed, lips kiss swollen, pupils so dilated that you can barely see the soft brown of his eyes.
"I love you," he blurts out, and your resulting laugh is airy as you press another chaste kiss to his lips.
"I've always loved you, Yuuta," you admit. "During Shibuya, I thought I wasn't going to make it. You were the only thing keeping me going."
The look in his eyes is fierce as he tugs you back into him, enveloping you in his arms. "You'll never have to worry about that again. You have my entire life. Where you go, I'll follow, and if I die, not even Death would be able to separate me from your side."
"Those sound a lot like wedding vows, don't you think?"
Yuuta's blush covers his entire face and you grin, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "Come on now. We have kids we need to protect."
As Yuuta leads you to where the others have convened, even under the dark circumstances you're in, the warmth of his hand clutching yours fills you with a giddiness you hadn't experienced in months. The sentiment is quickly dashed as soon as Maki opens her mouth.
"Fucking finally. Inumaki owes me 3,000 yen."
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0bsessive-d0ll · 5 months
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wasyago · 4 months
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kakashi and bull 🥺🤲
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psychedelicmess81 · 11 months
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hazbingirliexoxo · 2 months
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Alastor: Do you ever wonder how many houses you’ve passed in your lifetime that have people locked in the basement?😃
Reader: ….
Angel: Like in a kinky BDSM kinda way or…?
Reader: What the actual fuck is wrong with you two?
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scealaiscoite · 10 months
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bodyguard/protectee prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱
-ˏˋ. dialogue ˊˎ-
⋆ “um, look- i know i’m only meant to be here for you in a professional capacity, but if you ever need anything i’m here for you.”
⋆ “come on, just admit it- i’m starting to grow on you, aren’t i?”
⋆ “since when does your job extend to giving me relationship advice?” “it doesn’t, but i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i didn’t at least try to tell you how much more you deserve than that idiot.”
⋆ “don’t tell your coworkers, but you’re my favourite.”
⋆ “i know it’s like your job or whatever, but i- i’ve never had anyone protect me like that before. so, uh- thanks, i guess.”
⋆ “don’t worry. i’m not going to tell anyone that my big bad bodyguard like to be the little spoon.”
⋆ “i think if you let people see this side of you more often, you wouldn’t have any need for me.”
⋆ “we’re gonna be in this car for eight hours! you’re not gonna combust if you speak to me more than one word at a time.”
-ˏˋ. actions / scenarios ˊˎ-
⋆ while the protectee is in the process of overworking themselves, the bodyguard reluctantly steps in to make them take a break
⋆ after an event that shakes the protectee, the bodyguard silently takes their hand and doesn’t let go until they’re safe again
⋆ the bodyguard gets injured in the process of coming between the protectee and a physical threat and, in a panic, the protectee fusses over them as they gingerly tend to their wounds
⋆ after overhearing a personal argument that leaves the protectee upset, a very out-of-their-depth bodyguard tries their best to comfort them
⋆ whilst trying to cheer up a downtrodden protectee, the otherwise stoneyfaced bodyguard divulges the first pieces of personal information they’ve ever given to anyone on the job
⋆ during an overnight protection detail, the bodyguard finds themselves keeping company to an insomniac protectee
⋆ one finally building up the courage to ask the other out on a date once their professional relationship is over
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jun-hug · 27 days
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mercats, mermcats, catfish?
print! :)
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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Never in a million years did Steve Harrington think he'd be standing in the drama club room in front of Eddie the Freak--who's sitting on a goddamn throne with his full lips pulled into a smug grin--asking to be taught how to play Dorks and Goblins. Yet, here he is, face a burning shade of crimson, as he explains for the sixth time what, exactly, he needs.
"Munson, it's not that hard. Henderson wants me to play in the--the game thingy they're doing when Will is home for a visit."
"Yeah, Harrington, and I stop listening every time you call it a game thingy. You obviously don't care about this at all, so why should I waste my time helping you?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "What if I pay you?"
Munson's face goes through a complicated series of changes before falling into a neutral mask, no smirk or teasing smile to be found. "You'll pay me to teach you dnd? Are you fucking kidding?"
"No?' Steve draws a hand through his hair, watches as Munson's dark eyes track the movement. "I thought you might help me out cause those kids never shut-up about you, but I'm willing to put money on it."
"Huh," Eddie says. He steeples his fingers under his chin. "Maybe I misjudged you, Harrington."
Steve lets himself smile at this. "I don't think you did. I don't give a shit about this game."
"Didn't take you for one to have a bunch of nerdy child friends."
"I'm their babysitter," he says, realizes immediately it was a mistake.
Eddie cackles until it turns into a full-bodied laugh, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "You are something else, Harrington," he manages.
For his part, Steve hopes Munson hasn't noticed how bright red his face is. "Does that mean you'll help me?"
"I guess," he rolls his eyes. "But if you're just screwing around, I'm out."
"No, yeah, totally," Steve nods too hard, sends his hair cascading into his face. "Sounds good. How much?"
"Huh?" Eddie tilts his face up, giving Steve a perfect view of the smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose.
"I said I'd pay you. What's the going rate for dnd lessons?"
"Oh, nah, free of charge, Harrington. Henderson would eat me alive if he knew I made you pay."
The smile they share is soft, tentative, and Steve doesn't notice the swathes of pink decorating Eddie's pale cheekbones.
---
They meet up in the drama room after the last bell. Eddie is waiting on the throne with his feet propped on the table, sipping a Mt. Dew. His eyes widen when Steve walks into the room.
"You're on time," he says.
Steve scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Eddie shrugs, sets his feet on the floor. "Just wasn't aware that the King put a lot of stock in punctuality."
"C'mon, man, I'm trying not to be that guy, and I'm definitely not king of anything. Unless maybe it's Family Video, but even then, that's Robin."
"You're kind of weird, Harrington, you know that?" Eddie's dimples bracket his smile. The sight does weird things in Steve's chest.
"I've been told, yeah." Steve smiles back. "Where do we start?"
They start with dice, with a character sheet.
"Chaotic-good human Paladin?" Eddie asks.
He shrugs. "That's what Dustin keeps screaming at me. I got no idea what any of it means."
"That's not entirely true," Eddie says. "You've kept up with me so far."
"Yeah, that's you. Dustin rambles and then accuses me of not listening when it's over my head. When he goes on long enough, I start to get a headache right here," Steve rubs the spot between his eyes.
"That kid," Eddie says with the right combination of affection and frustration. "I don't know, you seem to have picked up on some of the stuff he said. You have a solid idea on gameplay, at least. I'd say you're doing pretty good."
"Thanks," Steve laughs. "No migraine yet, so that's a point in your favor."
"Migraines?"
"Head trauma."
"Byers?"
"And Hargrove."
"That was Hargrove?" Eddie asks.
"Hit me in the head with a plate."
"What the fuck."
"He was pissed that Max was friends with Lucas. He came after them. I couldn't just let him--I think he would've killed Lucas."
Eddie nods, hands fiddling with a die. "No wonder those kids love you," he says.
"We've been through some shit together."
"Guess it makes more sense why you wanted to learn dnd."
"As much as it pains me to admit," Steve rolls his eyes. "I love to make those little shitheads happy."
"Well, based on the way they talk about you, you succeed."
"You too, you know?" Steve offers. "All I've heard about the last three months is 'Eddie's so cool,' 'Hellfire's so fun.'"
"Jealous?" Eddie laughs.
"Completely," Steve admits.
"Don't worry, Harrington, I'll make a nerd out of you yet."
---
They meetup after school every day they can over the next two weeks. At first, Steve is surprised that he doesn't really mind spending so much time with Munson, that he actually, kind of, has fun. And the more time they spend together, the more Eddie infiltrates his space. Leans into Steve's side as they sit next to each other, brushes their hands together, hovers over his shoulder, faces nearly touching, as he checks stuff on Steve's character sheet.
It makes Steve feel--well, it makes him think of what it would be like to run his fingers through the soft gloss of Eddie's curls; wonders what that plump mouth would be like pressed against his own; can't stop thinking about if Eddie is as vocal in bed as he is everywhere else. He knows he also likes guys, has for a while, but he's never in his life wanted someone this viscerally; so much he can feel the ache of it in his teeth.
It's the last day before the campaign for Will, and Steve is fucking sad. He thinks maybe Eddie is too. He's at least quieter than normal, explanations not at their usual fever pitch. An hour before they usually call it quits, he claps his hands together (too gently, too unlike himself), says, "That's it, Harrington. You're not going to be more ready than this."
"Right," Steve says. Can't help his eyes from darting over Eddie's face, aching to know what he's thinking. "You'll be there tomorrow?"
Eddie bends his head over his notebooks. "Nah, I don't need to intrude."
"But--"
"It's okay, Stevie. I get that it's family only." He looks like he really means it, but his eyes are sad, don't shine like they should.
Steve doesn't know what to say to that, just nods, and then there's nothing else. They stare at each other for a few very long, quiet seconds, before Eddie says, "I'll see you around, Harrington."
"Right, yeah. You too." And he walks out of the drama room with the heaviest heart he thinks he's ever had.
---
Steve thinks he won't miss Eddie. That if he doesn't dwell on those hours spent with Eddie, learning dnd, that the missing will go away.
It doesn't.
Which is how he finds himself back at the high school on Wednesday, standing in front of the drama room door, willing himself to go inside. Eddie's on the throne, the typical notebooks and binders and Mt. Dew cans clustered around him, but he's not engrossed in imagining up a new campaign for Hellfire. No, his head is in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
His head pops up, and even in the low light, Steve notices the silvery tracks of tears down his cheeks.
"Steve! What are you--" he hastily wipes at his face with his shirt sleeve. "What are you doing here?"
Steve's acting only on instinct, crossing the room and dropping to his knees, taking Eddie's jaw between his palms, thumbing away the wetness on his cheeks.
"Did someone hurt you?" he asks.
Eddie's laugh is wet. "Nah, Harrington. I only have myself to blame for this one."
"Can I do anything?"
"Are you trying to kill me?"
"Sorry?"
"You, Steve Harrington, kind and compassionate? Learn dnd to make your little nerd friends happy? Who are you?"
"I'm just me, man," Steve blushes. "But, uh, I came to thank you." He's still holding Eddie's face in his hands, can't help but notice the way he flushes, how his dark eyes dart away from Steve's.
"I really liked hanging out with you," Steve says. This close to Eddie, his mind doesn't quite feel like his own. All he can think of is big eyes, soft curls, full lips.
"Yo--you did?"
"So much," Steve whispers. He doesn't quite remember moving, but now their foreheads are pressed together, warm breath mingling, lips almost, almost touching.
"I liked it too," Eddie breathes. After a few seconds, he laughs. "Knew I'd make a nerd out of you, Harrington."
"Shut-up," Steve laughs.
"Make me," Eddie says, and it's just that easy. Steve crosses the space still separating them, presses his mouth against Eddie's.
The kiss is slow, exploratory, the gentle discovery of how they fit together, the promise of all the things they can do in the future, all the pleasure they can bring.
"I'm not a nerd," Steve says when they part.
"No, you're right. You're like a nerd by marriage. Nerd-in-law," Eddie giggles. His eyes are bright, face pink, the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.
"Shut-up," Steve giggles right back.
Eddie raises an eyebrow, the dare obvious, and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss him again.
"You wanna get out of here?" Steve asks when they part, significantly more breathless, jeans significantly tighter, than when he arrived.
"You're gonna have to role persuasion for that, Stevie," Eddie smirks.
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nightgoodomens · 7 months
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I love how David was suppose to be this scary Mary Poppins but Michael just… alarmingly attractive…
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midnightsslut · 2 months
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religion is one of the most prominent recurring themes on the album, and it has been present in some capacity for quite a few records now. taylor previously compared love to religion: her saving grace, her belief system, and a fated divine intervention (false god, cornelia street, and cruel summer are the best examples of this). ‘sacred new beginnings that became my religion’ and ‘we’d still worship this love even if it’s a false god’ are two of the defining statements about her philosophy on the lover album.
taylor doesn’t want to leave all of that behind on ttpd, at least not at the beginning. the first supernatural force she mentions is the spaceship on down bad, which she compares to a skylight of freedom in the epilogue. *something* has finally come to save her from her life of suffering. she doesn’t care if it’s a force of good at first; if anything, she’s just fine being taken away by aliens. she views this man as her destiny. it isn’t until guilty as sin? that taylor starts to ponder the moral implications of what she’s doing. is she guilty as sin for wanting to leave her previous religion and relationship behind? she comes to the conclusion that, even if she rolls the stone away and gets resurrected/redeemed, she cannot avoid the fallout. she is okay with the thought of having to wait, as long as both lovers vow to be together forever, just as she once did with someone else in false god. ‘I choose you and me religiously’ finishes the bridge of the song in a direct callback to cornelia street.
the next mention of religion has murkier imagery. she claims that she does not need the Lord’s help to save this man. she sees the halo that he has, and she can fix him herself. now that she feels free of her prior cage, she isn’t looking for divine intervention anymore. she wants control. she is their route to salvation.
when the relationship falls apart, she retreats back into the position of a believer rather than a divine figure. she compares him to a Holy Ghost who promised to save her and take her to heaven. instead, she is in hell in every sense of the word: she’s down bad and feels guilty for digging up the grave. he was a jehovah’s witness who promised that she could break free of the cage imposed by love without changing her religion altogether; she would’ve just had to switch denominations. she could still have a marriage and kids! she could still have a blue tortured poet! the man was different, but not the dreams they had together. the story of the first part of the album ends here. her faith has been broken, and she has only found any semblance of sanity by refusing to mention these belief systems altogether.
side b/the anthology blends the christian imagery of side a with goddesses, sorcerers, and prophecies. she bargains with these powers to let her have the future she wants (the prophecy). she doesn’t sound like someone believing in salvation. if anything, she feels cursed. she decides that the concept of divinely ordained timing will never work in certain relationships (‘the goddess of timing once found us beguiling / she said she was trying / peter, was she lying?’). this disdain extends onto her perception of other people’s faith (‘bet they never spared a prayer for my soul’). she does position herself as a prophet in cassandra, but even then, she admits that the role has hurt her. perhaps the pain in thank you aimee was meant to be, or perhaps she was just strong enough to build a legacy in spite of it, boulder by boulder. is she a martyr? does she want to be? or did she save herself?
the only real love song on this half of the album makes no mention of fate or any divine forces. it wasn’t meant to be. it’s not a supernatural invisible string or lightning in a bottle. she is just in love.
the album ends with the manuscript, which revisits an old story of a defining, formative heartbreak. as she sings ‘at last, she knew what the agony had been for’ while describing the legacy of her writing, she seems to revert to thinking about the purpose of trauma. the only exception is that, in this case, she is the one who found meaning in her pain by turning it into a manuscript. writing is her belief system now, and she proselytizes by telling her stories and thus giving up the manuscript.
ultimately, her belief in destiny has chewed her up and spat her out. she so desperately clung to her existing belief systems that she was fooled by a conman, which left her feeling cursed. religion is supposed to be with someone even in their darkest moments, but the album explains that taylor often felt abandoned. the only constant in her life was, well, herself. she’ll be okay, but her pen will be her saving grace.
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jacqcrisis · 22 days
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I like how in the first game, Aphrodite is like 'Mm Charon? Oh, cool, yeah, you bought my boon from the boatman and his nasty trash :/ As least he's a greedy weirdo, otherwise I couldn't make head or tails of him.'
And now she's all 'oh Charon! I love him. He's so tall and strong. Of course who wouldn't fantasize about him coming to your aid~'
I like to believe that this is because, as the goddess of love, she couldn't figure out a damn thing about Charon since he's in the underworld, and, canonically, the Olympians can't feel what's going on down there. But then she saw Hermes slobbering all over him at the post-game party, and after god knows how long with Charon and Hermes being topside and pining completely platonically over each other due to their separation, she's realized Charon is a prime cut of grade A Beef as she should have centuries ago.
I'm very proud of her.
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