#even when its homer

[thedisablednaturalist]

It's awful when I'm on the job and an elderly person asks me for help bending over/picking something up especially when they ask so nicely.. I haven't been able to find a polite way to refuse. It's hard being the designated young person when you're invisibly disabled

#wrenfea.exe #bc i don't really use mobility aids in the field other than my walking sticks #and i didnt have them today #usually my coworker steps in but he wasnt here today #my back is still pretty fucked up and i cant really bend over or lift things quite yet #its also the same thing with having to give your seat up on the bus #even though you need it bc everyone around you assumes you dont #had an old lady just stand and glare at me and didnt even say anything when i asked if she wanted the seat #when i tried to explain i need to sit she just stepped closer and stared down at me it was fucking weird #like the homer simpson meme #chronic disability #chronic pain #spoonie #fibromyalgia #disability #from the field #working while disabled #invisible disability

[bloobluebloo]

Sometimes I think about how the geoglyph of Ganondorf kneeling is in full view right outside of Gerudo Town. At first I was like “ahahaha of all things that were memorialized it was Ganondorf kneeling to another king😂” and then I was like “holy shit Ganondorf kneeling for Hyrule’s king is memorialized and in full view right outside Gerudo Town 🙁”

#Its the same vibes as that homer meme #where burns put that sign that says don’t forget you’re here forever #and then when you think about it #it was Ganondorf essentially that vowed fealty and made the Gerudo a vassal state to Hyrule #so I suppose even after he became demon king the pact remained in tact #the gerudo being reminded of that every time they look to their cliffs #ganonthots

[stupot]

oddly comforting that nothing can hurt me worse than yesterday

#this doesnt even scratch the surface rlly #i cant fit the fact that they lied to us about federal reclamation availability law (its 24/7 and they tried claiming 9pm was too late) #or that there were no lights buildings signage or people anywhere in the maze of dark alley with dozens of different lots #or that they were mocking my mom over the phone for being 'scared' when asking for directions #or that when they finally sent someone to the lot to talk to us it was just some guy in a car #who pulled up and told my mom to put her license info into his phone #on homer's forehead #tfw youre sobbing in a dark alley begging the tow guys to just stfu and give the car back because you're tired and had to put your cat down #and theyre laughing at you and yelling at you over it #just two women* outside in the dark with nothing but barbed wire and surly piece of shit men holding their only transportation hostage #btw my roommates boyfriend has reclaimed his car at 3am before and never had to scan his license ever #wonder why it was different for us! HMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!

[finelythreadedsky]

i'm fundamentally opposed to book titles in translations of ancient epics ('beguilement on mount ida,' 'a hero's son awakens,' 'the olive tree bed,' 'camilla's finest hour,' 'juno served by a fury') bc it just seems like too much to me to presume you know what single thing the book is really about, but christopher logue is allowed to do it

#i have the collected volume but just bought the husbands (books 3-4) and yeah. he's right. that IS what books 3 and 4 are about #fitzgerald does call iliad 3 'dueling for a haunted lady' which is cool but the rest of his book titles suck #iliad 18 isn't 'the shield of achilles' and aeneid 8 isn't 'the shield of aeneas' there's a LOT more going on in both #even aeneid 5 isn't just REALLY about the funeral games (bc its also about the first punic war) #and all the more so with the homeric epics whose book divisions were not intentional and who had no author to focus on a single thing at on #titles are useful indicators of what the translator thinks the book is really about and what they think everything else is supporting tho #like does the translator think the embassy to evander is central and the shield a supporting detail or vice versa? #(aeneid translators are 50/50 on whether book 8 should be titled based on the shield or based on evander and the arcadians btw) #and like. does odyssey 4 take its title from menelaus' tale or helen's tale or do you call it 'the king and queen of sparta' or something #its really funny when translators try to do book titles with the metamorphoses though #'impious acts and exemplary lives'? 'of the ties that bind'? #those tell me nothing about what's even in the book let alone what the translator thinks the most important part is #(this is a not small part of the reason i have not gotten the new stephanie carter translation. #efforts to divide epic neatly even into the book divisions used by the author rub me the wrong way. #going beyond that and presuming to be able to say where one story ends and another begins... it's not for me) #mine

[captainclervals]

I am once again thinking about Walton's objectifiation of Victor and how regardless of the kindness and good intentions he showed he still didn't treat him like a person

because how can you really have the deepest human empathy and genuine love for someone, while seeing them absolutely heartbroken and losing the last grasp on the will to live, in despair over losing every single meaningful thing they'd ever had—and as they cry in front of you in the most vulnerable and tormented shape you've ever seen another person sink to, you think of how noble and divine and beautiful they are

he couldn't have been in love with Victor

there's not really a way to truly love someone you've literally just met, you can have a spark of attraction, an interest, a connection; you can get along and take the first steps of learning about each other and realize that you do want to develop the relationship further; depending on the person and personalities you can even have a mutual affection, but how can you actually be in love with someone you don't know?

it's not being in love with the person—it's being smitten with the idea of them, and in love with the picture of them you've painted in your own head, completely divorced from the real living breathing multifaceted person

and Walton (subconsciously) didn't allow himself the opportunity to see Victor as that layered multidimensional person that he could grow with and learn how to best love. he was just as much at fault as Victor for the distance between them that couldn't be bridged. Victor may have rejected Walton's offers of help and company in starting his life over—he put distance between "friend" and "soulmate"

but Walton practically put all the miles between the dirt and the seventh heaven between them. he lifted Victor from a lonely death in the ice, but higher and higher too, until he was more of an idol than a person, until Walton could just watch from the ground and admire and yearn after all that knowledge and beauty and mystery that he can never obtain, never conquer, because he put it out of his own reach. and when Victor made those small steps closer to connect to Walton, Walton deferred further to kneel even lower, insisting on his inferiority, his subpar education/intelligence, his faults, his desperate need for someone far greater to patiently guide and direct his life for him

there could never be a middle ground because Walton wouldn't let himself think of Victor being on that level with him. he talked about how he always wanted to be with a man whose eyes could reply to his but he couldn't even allow themselves to be on equal footing to look him in the eye at all

#txt #ive gone over this before i know but every time i think of it i realize how much more flawed it is on waltons side too #i want to psychoanalyze him. #why tf does he put such lofty things seemingly deliberately out of his own reach #its like he sets himself up for failure but maybe doesnt even realize it #not just with the whole massive deadly undertaking of exploring the north pole thing #but even in his early years #things like his poetry #he wouldnt let himself just learn to be a poet and enjoy it #his goal was to be on the level of shakespeare and homer and whatever. and when he inevitably failed to live up to that #in a short amount of time #he gave up in despair #for some reason he needs things to be out of reach. if its realistically obtainable he cant let himself strive for it #dont @ me im just crawling around after hours.

[smilerri]

people really have the audacity to claim odysseus isnt the most unlikable character in the entire odyssey?? when his whole personality is being a lying bitch?? yeah its funny sometimes but he still sucks

#odysseus: me: booo tomato tomato tomato #bro is annoying as fuck #and it annoys me so mcuh when people claim he cares for anyone other than himself #like its all during the flashback that HE NARRATES so ofc he's gonna make himself look good #then you get to the laetrygonians and there's just no way to excuse that #he says that he purposefully made the other ships enter the bay first which means he KNEW there was danger and made the conscious decision #to send his men before him so he could make a quick escape when things inevitably went wrong #because hes a murderous jackass #the murder isnt even the worst bit either #its the deception #but thats his whole thing isnt it #resourceful odysseus #king of lies #anyway stan elpenor and eurylochus and perimedes #aka the only named members of odysseus' crew BECAUSE HE DOESNT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANY OF THEM!!!! #classics #classical studies #homer's odyssey #the odyssey #odysseus

[lemongogo]

yall post grad isnt it

#post grad life.still debating thr phd route #tho thts gna be suck x10000000 i dont thjnk im gna do it or if i will maybe i master out teehee #THIS SUCKSKSSSS ITS SO BORING EVERYONES SO BUSY #n when i get home im so tired i dnt wven want ro do anything. homer simpson couch core #anyways when ppl said life after college is fun.they r literally lying to u #college wsnt even fun bc half of it was online but it still felt ljke SMTHINGGG #me when ii when i mwe when w

[studiousbotanist]

extroverts go insane when they've been sick in bed, somehow sleeping at every single time anyone he knows is awake . I am the extrovert and I'm going insane !!!!!! and I can't go bother my brother xus he's also sick and sleeping and I can't invade rhe living room or ill risk getting my sister sick . #ICKY

#thank g-d when i get oitta the soup and arden gets food we will call #i usually talk to myself anyway but its been even more . im abt to become homer simpson in that shining episode #*straining* hes gay !!!!!

[patricia-taxxon]

so is every advancement in AI art just them putting more shit in the prompts for you? like is there a mandatory layer of "intricate, artstation, digital art" on the prompts now?

they "solved" the problem of training set bias by just adding race modifiers to your prompts without telling you, generate enough pictures of Naruto and one of them will be black. It's hilarious, but like, can they even do anything else?? They can't modify the neural net, it's unknowable by nature. Bing's new image generation thing craps out on you if you don't give it enough to work with, when previous gens would just roll with it and stimulate the prompt with wind like its a resonant tube of weighted averages. Could it be that giving it "the" or something else generic would make the modifiers too easy to identify? They couldn't stop black homer simpson from having an "ethnically ambiguous" nametag. I feel like im seeing behind disneyland right now.

#cilantromixture

[perpetual-stories]

How to Use Character Flaws to Enrich Your Writing

Readers identify with characters who are relatable and peppered with imperfections. When a writer crafts believable character flaws, they open the door to interesting conflict, engaging personalities, and ample character development.

What Is a Character Flaw?

A character flaw is a trait that prevents a character from being perfect.

Sometimes this fatal flaw leads to a character’s demise or at least undercuts their character strengths and presents a prominent setback they must overcome.

Any character can have flaws, including a protagonist, antagonist, love interest, confidant, deuteragonist, tertiary character, or foil.

Why Give Your Characters Flaws?

A character’s flaws serve many functions, particularly ensuring that the character is relatable and engaged in inner conflict. Carefully crafted flaws can do the following:

Make the character relatable to an audience of readers or viewers

Present an obstacle that must be overcome during the course of the story

Create character weaknesses that another character in the story can exploit

Create an obstacle that prevents a character from immediately solving a conflict

Set off a character arc that allows a character to grow and change

Provide quirks that distinguish characters from one another and make them memorable to audiences

Emphasize broader themes that are amplified via specific character flaws

Create comedy—from Homer Simpson to Michael Scott, the best comedic characters are hopelessly flawed

What Is an Example of a Character Flaw?

In the Thomas Harris novel The Silence of the Lambs (and its subsequent film adaptation by director Jonathan Demme), Hannibal Lecter has what could charitably be called a personality disorder: He is a cannibal and a sadomasochist.

Lecter’s character flaws, however, are somewhat offset by his brilliant mind, which he uses to help the main character, Clarice Starling, apprehend a serial killer tormenting Appalachia.

Lecter is an example of how in fiction, even characters with the most severe personality flaws can embody a degree of three-dimensionality.

12 Character Flaws to Use in Your Writing

The array of possible character flaws is boundless. Here are 12 time-tested character traits that inherently generate conflict:

Perfectionism: A finicky perfectionist is never satisfied. They can rarely accept that a project has been completed, and they rarely accept the finished work of others. Perfectionism is a great flaw for a detective, a doctor, or an office worker.

A know-it-all attitude: An arrogant, self-righteous know-it-all has great potential to fall flat on their face, whether comically or dramatically. High school stories often feature a know-it-all foil to the main character. These archetypes work particularly well in comedy, especially when the know-it-all suffers from a broader lack of intelligence.

An inability to move on from the past: Many police procedurals and superhero stories feature heroes haunted by their past, such as murdered parents or the victim they could not save. This major flaw presents obstacles as they work to solve crimes—but when the obstacles are overcome, the story’s happy ending feels earned.

Laziness: Laziness is a flaw that leads to obvious conflict, some of which can be quite funny. Lazy sloth detectives and doctors can be either hilarious or the source of grave conflict, depending on the tone of your storytelling. A lazy character in a position of authority can generate a lot of tension for your plot.

Physical vulnerability: Some characters suffer from a physical weakness that can escalate into a fatal flaw. Superman’s tendency to wilt in the presence of kryptonite hamstrings him, while the great warrior Achilles was undone by his fabled heel.

Low self esteem: People who fundamentally dislike themselves make for fascinating characters. Jesse Pinkman’s self-loathing leads him down all sorts of dangerous paths in Breaking Bad. On the other end of the spectrum, the young adult author Judy Bloom has crafted gorgeous character arcs from youthful characters, like Linda Fischer in Blubber, who begin their journeys with low self esteem.

Vanity: Vanity is the undoing of many real world characters, and so it also works beautifully in fiction. Politicians, artists, models, and athletes in stories are routinely undone by vanity as they gradually develop a bad reputation. Ordinary people can be wrecked by vanity as well, so it’s a common character flaw in many forms of fiction.

Lust for power: Unbridled thirst for power has undone many a character, from Mr. Kurtz in Heart of Darkness to Frank Underwood in House of Cards. Power is intoxicating, and characters who seek it are both relatable and easy sources of conflict.

Lack of maturity: Many character arcs begin with a person in a hopeless state of immaturity who then grows over the course of the story. Immaturity can also manifest as rudeness, like when a bigmouth makes tactless remarks.

Fear: Common in action dramas and comedies alike, fear—be it cowardice in the face of duty, a specific phobia of spiders, or an irrational fear—is a great character flaw that naturally drives a story.

Hedonism: Some characters cannot resist temptation, whether that involves an illicit drug, food, or a fetish. Sometimes this excessive desire is due to addiction—it’s no secret that many famous protagonists are alcoholics—and sometimes it’s due to a general lack of self-restraint and willpower. For a character like Fyodor Karamazov in The Brothers Karamazov, hedonism and lechery make him both tragically amusing and subtly sinister.

A gruff exterior: Some characters seem initially impenetrable because they are taciturn, standoffish, or even hostile and lewd. Typically these characters house a vulnerable interior beneath their coarse shell. Bringing out that vulnerability and lack of self-worth can be a strong driver of story.

Please like, comment, reblog and follow for more!

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #original writing #writers on tumblr #writersconnection #writerscommunity #short story #storytelling #writersupportingwriters

[strangersmunsons]

💖 Eddie Munson x Reader Fic Recs 💖

I just wanna show some appreciation for a few of my all-time favorite Eddie fics! Here’s a handful of the series & oneshots that have really stuck out to me in all the time I've been reading - there's A TON of great writers on here who have posted really stellar work :^)

List under the cut!

june baby by @luveline - luveline jade u are a celebrity to me. this was the first Eddie story I ever read and it is so beautiful. it's tender. it's melancholy. it's realistic. it's gorgeous. it honestly makes me feel something I've never felt reading any other fanfiction.

oh, baby by @inknopewetrust - another one of my first Eddie fics! the feeling that this series invoked in me is what I aspire to invoke in others for my own writing someday. it's just so sweet and funny and made me nostalgic, in the same way that watching '80s teen films do, except it's even better because Eddie is in this one. I wanted so badly to just dive into the story and really experience it for myself.

hoping I'll find [a glimpse of us] by @inknopewetrust - this smashed my heart into 1000 pieces, and then promptly glued it very sloppily back together and I've reread it like six times just to reinflict the pain. I love rockstar!Eddie stories that maintain some realism about what that type of relationship would look like, and this fic does that SO perfectly. masterclass in angst right here.

dancing with myself by @ambrossart - this one hits close to home! and even though it hurts along the way, there's a happy ending that it builds so nicely towards! it's beautifully paced & the reader is very funny. you can just tell that the her backstory & relationship w/ Eddie was so carefully thought out, it really feels like this was written with so much love! and I LOVE that it doesn't paint Chrissy as a villain.

10 things I hate about you by @spideyanakin - so glad that we all collectively agree that Patrick is Eddie-coded. and in this fic the parallels are there, without Eddie sacrificing his own unique character - that part is handled really beautifully! and the ST characters are worked into the original movie's narrative so well. it's the perfect mix of fluff and drama!

freaky friday by @jo-harrington - I adore this series! I love this version of Eddie so much I could cry, he is so sweet and selfless, I want to give him the entire world. and an Eddie & Steve body swap? 10/10. lindsay and jamie lee, eat your hearts out.

to know you're mine by @blueywrites - oooohboy. I almost didn’t read this one (just because I would normally avoid swinging/cheating in a fic) but I'm so glad I did, because it was like being on the homer's odyssey of 18+ ST fanfiction. it’s wild. bluey girl u were insane for this. and i mean that as an extremely high compliment. i was so damn invested!

i will wait by @abibliophobiaa, @blueywrites, @breddiemunson, @myosotisa, @fracturedarkness - there's three chapters, it's on hiatus, I don't care, I will literally keep reading these three chapters over and over again and just fill in the blanks myself if I must. it's that good. you guys are amazing. I am totally enthralled.

rumor by @msgexymunson - this is what turned me on to older!Eddie. I love him, and I desire him carnally, and specifically this version of him. when I daydream about Eddie sweeping me off my feet, I think about Eddie in this series. he's everything to me. I even wrote my own older neighbor Eddie fic because of this!

trapped under ice by @munson-blurbs - the iron grip this fic had me in...I'm still going back and re-reading my favorite parts. it's beautifully developed. this version of Eddie is so real and believable. Harris is my favorite kid he's ever been given. an all-time, truly, I can't sing its praises enough.

siren!eddie by @parkermunson - a monster-ish Eddie fic! I'm a sucker for anything that incorporates mermaids and sirens and the like, so I really love this concept. it's a great story, I love our protective, doting fishboy, and hope to see more of him!

use me by @reysorigins - simultaneously the nastiest and sweetest fic ever. smut, but it's interspersed with these moments of such deep-seated love and yearning between Eddie and the reader that it made me want to cry! incredible piece.

mine and yours by @muertawrites - ahhhh this one is so so sweet! dating is so fucking hard, I think we could all use a comforting, reassuring moment with a sweetheart like Eddie, who is especially kind to us in this fic. I love the way he’s written here.

our patron saint of the arts by @storiesbyrhi - I love an artsy, crafty reader! I feel like Eddie would be sooo into someone who’s creatively-minded like him. this is the dream relationship, basically, these two are adorable together! (and Eddie in a dress! 😗)

And this is just a sample of what’s out there! Some of these are fics that I read very early on, even before I started this blog. I was more shy then, too, so I feel like I never showed them the appreciation I should have! You guys are all so talented, these works are very inspiring to me.

To readers: I encourage you to let the writers know how much you enjoy their work! Reblog! Leave a comment, even if it’s just in the tags! Write a reply, or send them a message, even if it’s on anon! I’m trying to get better at doing these things myself, too 💖

#eddie munson fic recs #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson series #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

[pasukiyo]

SWINGS AND MISSES

mlb player!steve harrington x f!reader word count: 6288 words warnings: angst and smut notes: i don't know if i made it super clear in the story but steve plays for the phillies in this au summary: with steve's record-breaking walk-off home run, it should've been an extraordinary night. but steve's wife can't help her longing for hawkins, and when she hears from one of his teammates a rumor that steve may have received an offer from a team even farther away from home, she finally meets her breaking point.

AUGUST, 1994;

“I’ve never seen a home run in real life before! It was incredible!”

 Steve’s lips curled into a smile as he held the baseball close to his stomach with his left hand, a marker in his right, printing his signature on the ball. “Well, I’m glad I was able to make a good first impression, bud,” he chuckled, leaning further into the wall separating the stands from the field to hand the ball back over before taking another from the other young boy beside him. 

 “Yeah. The announcer even said it broke a record! That was such a cool way to end the game,” the boy said as Steve handed him his newly autographed ball, capping the marker and stuffing it in the back pocket of his baseball pants. “I’ve never seen a homer hit that far! And it was a walk-off!”

 “Yeah, I think it even went out of the park!” The other younger boy exclaimed and Steve laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wanna hit like you one day!”

 “Yeah, how do we learn to hit like you?”

 Steve laughed again at the rapid fire questions, uncrossing his arms to lift his baseball cap off his head and run his fingers through his sweat-slicked hair. “It’s all about the effort you put into the game. It’s all pointless if you don’t take the time to practice, right?” he replied, glancing away when out of the corner of his eye, he could make out a figure making its way down the stairs, heading in their direction.

 A very familiar figure. 

 “Yeah! I practice all the time!” One of the younger boys responded, a wide grin on his face. “Sometimes, my mom brings her video camera to record me at batting practice. I love going to the cages!”

 Steve was trying his best to keep his attention focused on the two children in front of him, he really was, but how could he possibly focus on anything else when his wife was coming his way looking like that? His muscles ached with fatigue and his stomach growled, and all he really wanted was to get some food in his system, clean himself up, and maybe even make a little love to his wife before getting a good night’s sleep. The closer she got, the harder he found it to maintain his patience. 

 The young boys in front of him continued to babble on about the practice they do outside of games as Steve’s wife approached in one of his jerseys— which was a few sizes too big for her— tucked into denim shorts, a Phillies baseball cap fit snug to her head. Steve’s grin widened as she approached and he gave her upper arm a squeeze before turning back to the children. 

 “I really hate to have to go but I’m sure your parents would hate me if I kept you boys up too late anyways,” Steve chuckled, raising a hand to the crown of his head to give the boys a little salute as he helped his wife climb over the wall and step onto the field. “Keep practicing!” He called over his shoulder as he threw his arm around his wife’s shoulders, giving her arm a squeeze. “And respect your parents!”

 Her face pulled into a smile and her chest heaved with a laugh as she glanced up at him, scrunching her face when he met her gaze. “Look at you being so good with kids,” she giggled, lacing her fingers together with the ones dangling from her shoulders. “Almost like we’re back in Hawkins.”

 Steve rolled his eyes at this comment, pulling her in closer so that he could press a kiss against her temple as he led them towards the dugout where only a few of his fellow teammates remained. “At least these kids don’t drive me up the fuckin’ wall,” he snorted. “You know Henderson called the other day just to make fun of the way I run bases?”

 She tried to suppress her laugh as he pulled away from her to gather his equipment and he turned to cock an eyebrow at her as he snatched his helmet, tossing his batting gloves and fielding glove inside it when she let a giggle slip through the cracks of her lips. “What?” He watched as she crossed an arm over her chest and propped her opposite elbow against it, hiding her smile behind her knuckles. She shook her head, “nothing, nothing.”

 Steve pressed his lips together in a pout and stood back up, a hand on his hip. “You think the way I run bases is funny too, don’t you?” He used his helmet to gesture over to where she stood, scoffing in disbelief when she broke into laughter, trying her best to hide it behind her hand. “I can’t believe you.”

 One of his teammates strolled up, reaching past Steve to grab his bat, using his other hand to clasp his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better buddy, we all think you run bases funny,” he spoke with a grin and she erupted in laughter again as Steve used his glove to smack him against his shoulder. 

 “Oh, fuck off Kev,” he grumbled as he plopped down on the bench, prying his cleats off his feet. She giggled as she shuffled between his legs, cupping his face and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s okay, babe. On the bright side, your ass still looks ridiculously good in those pants,” she tittered and he rolled his eyes, playfully pushing her face away as he slipped on his slides. 

 “Whatever. You can talk to me once you’ve stopped taking Henderson’s side,” Steve rolled his eyes as he gathered the rest of his things and she followed him down the steps leading into the locker room, her hands in her back pockets. She gazed down at her feet, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating what she said next. 

 “You know… kinda miss that kid,” she said softly and Steve furrowed a brow, peeking at her from over his shoulder. “Are we talking about the same Henderson right now?” He asked and she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s just… you know, it’s been awhile since we’ve seen him. And everybody. And… Hawkins…”

 “We went back for Christmas, remember?” She pressed her lips together and felt her face fell, wrapping her arms around herself, shrugging. “Yeah, I know but I mean… it was just an overnight trip and that was months ago…” She trailed off, stopping in her tracks when Steve’s name permeated the corridor and she turned to face the source of the voice. 

 “Coach,” Steve acknowledged the Head Coach of the Phillies, taking the older man’s hand when he outstretched it for him to shake. “The man of the hour!” Coach exclaimed before glancing behind Steve where she stood, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Always good to see you, Mrs. Harrington,” he greeted and she nodded back, a shy smile on her face as she weakly waved. “You wouldn’t mind if I stole your husband for a quick minute, would you?”

 Steve blinked back at her, a slight furrow still in his brow but she waved him off anyway. “As long as you promise to bring him back,” her laugh came out as more of a breath, but the coach chuckled anyway, leading Steve away towards his office. She stood alone in the empty hallway leading to the Phillies locker room, arms wrapped around herself, her heart pounding and mind racing. 

 She wasn’t sure what she was hoping would come out of confessing to Steve how homesick she felt. It wasn’t his fault they hardly ever had the time to visit— Major League Baseball was his career, traveling and moving one place to another was just part of it. 

 But still, she couldn’t resist the yearn she felt for something more… stable. For a place she could call home, for a place she could stay. Hawkins was home to her— it always, always was. Even after all the strange things she and Steve had experienced in the small town in Indiana, she still felt connected to the place, still had threads tying her down in its roots. It was where she grew up, where she had friends, where she had family. 

 But she wasn’t sure how Steve would feel about that. 

 “Harrington leave you all alone?”

 She turned to the source of the voice and there stood Matt, one of Steve’s teammates, big and burly as ever with his arms crossed and his baseball bag hanging from one of his shoulders. She forced a smile, “Coach needed to see him in his office. Maybe he’s in trouble.”

 Matt rolled his eyes at this, “yeah right, like Star Boy is gonna get in trouble,” he scoffed. “You know, rumor has it Boston’s interested in him.”

 She blinked. “Boston?” Steve had never mentioned this to her before, of course she knew his contract with the Phillies was about to expire, but surely he would’ve told her if he’d gotten any other calls? Was he keeping this from her?

 Matt lifted his baseball cap to scratch at his scalp, his brow furrowed, lips turned in confusion. “You didn’t know?” He asked, and she shook her head. “No… No, I didn’t.”

 As if her mind wasn’t already racing before, it was practically a typhoon now. Surely this was all a misunderstanding? Perhaps he was in the Head Coach’s office right now working out a new deal to renew his contract, maybe there was nothing to worry about after all. Because Steve would’ve told her about something like this, right?

 “Anyway, surely you have nothing to worry about,” Matt tittered as he sauntered past. “No matter where he ends up, he’ll be making a shit ton of more money than I’ll ever make in a lifetime, so what the hell do I care where he goes?”

 She blinked as Matt said his goodbyes and disappeared into the locker room, once again leaving her alone to her thoughts. It wasn’t long after that Steve finally reemerged from the Coach’s office, laughing at whatever had been said moments before. The sound of the door closing echoed through the hallway and Steve turned back to face her where she stood, gesturing with his head to the locker room. 

 “I’m gonna go get changed, be back in a minute,” he said, turning around before she had the chance to even open her mouth, disappearing inside the locker room. And the whole time she stood in that empty hallway alone, all she could think of was Boston and how much further away from home— Hawkins— it was. 

 She told him when he got drafted in the major leagues that she’d follow him anywhere he went— and she still stood by that. But was it so wrong for her to long for home, to miss her family, her friends? Was it so wrong to just wish for a week, even a weekend to go back and visit her loved ones? 

 And why was she so nervous to ask Steve about it?

 Steve had never been too fond of Hawkins. Perhaps, years of dealing with alternate reality monsters and scary Russian men will do that for you. But she knew Steve loathed Hawkins for another reason— his parents. His parents that were never there, his parents that never cared to show up to a high school basketball game, baseball games, even his own graduation. His parents that never even bothered to be there, who always had something better to do than be at home with their son. 

 Hawkins was where he grew up, Hawkins was a constant reminder of how unwanted he used to be. So of course he’d gotten out of there the first chance he got, of course he’d brush her off every time she wanted to go back, of course their time to visit was reduced down to a simple overnight stay over Christmas. 

 Hawkins would never be home to Steve Harrington, and sometimes she feared he failed to acknowledge that it was quite the opposite for her. 

 “Ready to go?” His voice broke her thoughts and she blinked up at him, now wearing sweats and a plain white tee, his hair messy and unkempt atop his head. He spun the keys to his old BMW around his pinky finger, pinching his lip between his teeth as he approached, using his free arm to sling around her shoulders. “Everything okay?” He asked, giving her a fleeting squeeze and pressing a kiss to her hair. 

 She wanted nothing more than to question him, ask him what the quick little meeting with his coach was about, ask him what she was hearing about being traded to the Red Sox, whether or not he’d been hiding it from her, and if he was considering taking them up on whatever they offered him. But not here— it could wait for the car. 

 “Yeah, yeah,” she nodded, letting him lead her towards the exit. The night air in Philadelphia had a bit of a chill and she shivered when Steve opened the door leading to the players’ parking lot, the old BMW he’s had since high school waiting for them beneath the lamppost light. She clutched the strap of her purse as they made their way towards the car, worrying her lip between her teeth.

 Steve glanced up at her over the top of his car as she circled around to the passenger’s side, swinging open the door and slipping inside. He watched as she buckled in her seat belt while he turned the keys in the ignition, her fingers dropping in her lap as she stared out the window. 

 “You sure everything’s okay?” He asked again, reaching over to brush his fingers against her knuckles. She turned to face him, face void of expression as their eyes surged into one another. Something was wrong, Steve could feel it. 

 “What was all that about?” She questioned. “You know, with your coach and all that.” Steve pulled his fingers away and leaned back into his seat, searching the steering wheel as he tried to string together what to say next. She watched as he scratched at his chin, outstretching his palm, “he wanted to discuss my contract,” he replied. “Since it’s expiring soon.”

 She nodded, pressing her lips together in an attempt to still her beating heart. Steve rolled his tongue against his cheek, unsure of what to say next, and when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate any further, she drew in a shaky breath, gazing out the windshield. “I heard from Matt that Boston is interested in you.”

 Steve blinked, his lips pressed in a firm, thin line as he grew silent, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and turning the keys in the ignition with the other. The car roared to life and Steve said nothing as he turned to gaze out the back windshield to pull out of his parking space. Silence was thick in the air as he drove out of the parking lot, a lump forming in her throat and the tension was hot, a heavy weight on either of their chests. 

 “Why are you not talking to me?” She finally asked, glancing over to where he sat, jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping it. “Why didn’t you tell me about Boston?” She questioned, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. Steve ran a hand through his hair, “the call only came in a few days ago.”

 Her stomach flipped at the admission and she turned, brow furrowed in disbelief. “You got the call a few days ago and didn’t think to tell me about it?” It was hard to hide her agitation now. “What happened to… to talking to each other, Steve? Don’t you think I would’ve liked to have known about something like this?”

 Steve tapped the pad of his thumb against the top of the steering wheel, propping his other arm against the window, cupping his chin in his palm. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” he replied. “I know how much you hate traveling and I didn’t know how to bring it up and—“

 “Steve, I… don’t hate traveling,” she interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest, scoffing as if it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “I told you early on that I have no issue following you anywhere you go, and I still stand by that. What I have an issue with is you, number one: not telling me any of this crap and number two: brushing me off when I tell you that I want to go home. Why can’t we go somewhere for me for once? You have off days, but we spend them doing what you want, never what I want.” Her words were pouring out of her but at this point, she couldn’t make them stop. 

 Months upon months of her frustrations that had been pushed to the side to rest were now forcing their way to the frontlines, and she realized now that she wanted to be heard. She didn’t want to be pushed to the sidelines anymore, she didn’t want to keep everything to herself anymore, she just wanted to be seen. She wanted everything she’d spent energy burying to be recognized, she wanted Steve to acknowledge her. 

 “Can we… not do this tonight?” Steve said at last, wiping his brow in vexation and gripping the steering wheel with a two hand feel. “I’m tired, you’re tired, so can we please just chill out and talk about this in the morning?” She gnawed at the flesh of the inside of his cheek, “no, Steve,” she spoke firmly, her tone as stern as it could get to let him know that she wouldn’t be cowering away this time. “I’m not tired. Don’t tell me to chill out whenever you don’t feel like listening. I’m not going to let you push me to the side this time,” she said just as the car rolled to a halt in front of a stoplight. 

 “I’m not pushing you to the side!” His voice has raised this time, but still, she had no intention of backing down. “Honestly, you’re sounding so selfish right now,” he muttered, shaking his head and gazing out the window to his side, keen on looking anywhere but at her.

 She blinked, clearly taken aback. “I’m being the selfish one?” She scoffed, pointing a finger to her chest. “You won’t even listen to me. You won’t even talk to me.” Steve didn’t reply as the light turned green, making it clear he didn’t want to argue any further, only adding more coal to her fire.

 She dropped her head, feeling the bitter sting of tears in her eyes that she desperately tried to lock away, sinking her teeth further into the plush of her lip to help keep them from falling. Feeling unheard was probably the worst feeling she’d ever felt in the world, it felt as if she were drowning, meters below the ocean, her screams falling onto deaf ears. All she could see for miles was darkness and she was falling deeper and deeper into an abyss of black. 

 Steve was usually her lifeline but now, he was further and further away, and she was sinking deeper and deeper…

 “So what is it then?” She said at last, turning her head to glimpse over to where he sat, her voice cutting through her throat like a knife. “We’re just gonna move to Boston— which is even further away from Hawkins, by the way— and everything will just be okay? We’re just gonna forget about our friends and family and throw away everything I want to do just so I can be King Steve’s good, obedient little wife?” She hissed, and Steve turned to face her now as he pulled into the parking lot of their luxury apartment building, eyebrows knit together in frustration. 

 “We spend all your off days doing whatever the hell you want, why can’t we take a weekend or something to go back home and see everyone?” She pressed further. “I miss them. I miss Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Max, El, Robin— Robin’s your fucking best friend and you’ve only seen her once in the past year. You can’t even stay on the phone with her for more than ten minutes now.”

 “Because I’m fucking busy trying to give us a future!” Steve practically roared, his voice like a crack of thunder, even making her tremble where she sat. She recoiled and pressed her lips together, blinking. “I’ve been working almost every single fucking day to provide for us, to provide for you. You tell me you understand that this is my career, that traveling and press conferences and practices and brand deals and all that other shit is just a part of it. But then you sit here and bitch at me for it, complaining that I’m not listening, that I’m being selfish when all I fucking do everyday is work so you can be comfortable!” 

 Her vision glossed over with the haze of tears again and she blinked, sniffing. “You’re missing the point, Steve. I never asked for you to give up your career. I never asked for you to take time off for me. I asked you to hear me. I asked that we use the time that you’re off to go back home,” she replied softly, her tone void of the firmness she held before. Steve didn’t dare look at her, eyes narrowed as he stared straight ahead through the windshield, hands still tight around the steering wheel. 

 “Then what the hell’s stopping you from just leaving?” He asked, voice dropping to a hoarse whisper, and she blinked, sure that tears were falling now. “So that’s your answer?” She grimaced at her own voice, watery and threatening to break. “You’re just going to push me away? Tell me to leave?”

 Steve closed his eyes, his chest heaving with a sigh as he leaned back in his seat, resting his head against the headrest. A moment of silence dangled between the two, neither seeming to know how to break it. One hand dropped to his lap and the other rose to his forehead, the bridge of his nose pinched between his thumb and forefinger. She sniffed and wiped the tears from her wet and sticky cheeks, pressing her lips together as she shook her head, gazing at the parking lot outside the window. The city was alive and noisy at this time of night, its light polluting the night sky and ceiling away the stars. 

 This wasn’t what she had grown up to know. Even still, the city was still foreign to her. She missed the quiet of a small town, missed looking up at the night sky and seeing the stars twinkling down at her. She just missed home. 

 But what was Hawkins without Steve in it too?

 “I don’t…” Steve began, blinking up at the ceiling of his car. “…I don’t know what to do.”

 She glanced over at him, her arms crossed over her stomach, her fingernails scratching lines into her skin. She looked at Steve now and saw someone she hadn’t seen in awhile, not since they lived in Hawkins. 

 Steve looked lost. 

 “I don’t know what the right thing to do is anymore,” he breathed a laugh at himself, flattening his palm against his eyes and shaking his head again. “I just feel like I’m letting you down no matter what I do.”

 She furrowed her brows together and turned in her seat until her back was against the door, her left leg bent and leaning against the back of her seat. “Steve, you’re not… you’re not letting me down,” she replied in a soft murmur. “But it hurts me when you don’t listen to me. I never try to push you too hard or stop you from doing what you love to do,” her lips curved into a small smile. “And it makes me so happy to watch you play baseball. Because you just look so… peaceful. You look happy. Even if you do look funny running the bases.”

 Steve snorted at this, turning his head to the side to face her. “For awhile there, you weren’t happy,” she could feel her voice begin to crack, more tears glossing her vision, her voice thick with emotion. “I know you weren’t happy back in Hawkins,” she continued. “Just like you know I used to not be happy back then either.”

 Steve sniffed, his eyes dropping to her fingers where they rested in her lap, and he watched as she leaned closer towards him, her fingers finding his. He shuddered when their skin met, already melting into her touch, squeezing her fingers tighter when they laced together with his. His molars sunk down into the flesh of the inside of his cheek, trying to maintain his own composure. 

 “But Hawkins is home to me,” she murmured. “Hawkins is where our story began. It’s where we both grew up, it’s where we found each other. And I’ll always be grateful to Hawkins for that.”

 Steve let his fleeting gaze linger on their hands for a moment before her other hand pushed against his chin, leading his eyes back home, back to her. “Even with everything we went through there, we made so many memories,” she chuckled. “Like the first time you took me on a date and you pulled up to my house and my dad…”

 Steve’s lips curved into a smile and parted in a laugh, “he grilled me.” She laughed along, nodding. “I still remember how nervous you were to even hold hands with me, like my dad was waiting around the corner or something.”

 “He can be really intimidating.”

 “No shit,” she chuckled, leaning the side of her head into the passenger seat’s headrest. “And I remember our first kiss…” 

 Steve let the pad of his thumb soothe over the smooth skin on the back of her hand as he recalled the memory, the image of her standing in front of him, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes he fell in love with, wearing that ridiculously pretty baby blue dress he still secretly wished she would wear more often. He could remember how nervous he was, how he felt like his heart was going to either burst out of his chest or he was going to shit it out. He remembered wondering how a girl so perfect could ever want to be with him, how insecure he felt about himself, whether or not he was a shitty boyfriend. 

 All of it melted away when she fluttered her eyes closed and began to lean in and he, too, began to fall in closer…

 “Yeah,” Steve sighed his reply, and she smiled warmly. “So you see now why I want to go back so bad?” She asked. “Hawkins was where our story started. Hawkins will always be home to me.”

 Steve drew in a deep breath and nodded, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yeah,” he said. “But I still don’t know what to do about Boston.”

 She glanced down to their joined hands, her free hand soothing up and down his arm. When she looked back up, Steve’s face was contorted in thought, eyebrows knit together, eyes unfocused and lips pressed together. She gave his hand a squeeze, “do you want to go to Boston?”

 He blinked and peered over at her where she sat, waiting for a reply. Her face was void of all frustration from before, expression warm, inviting. How could he have ever taken her for granted?

 Steve gave a short nod, “I think so.” 

 Her lips grew into a grin, “then we’re going to Boston.”

 Steve’s face softened but a wrinkle in his brow still remained. “And you’re… okay with that?” He asked, and she nodded. “As long as we can do things I want too. I just want to dedicate some off time to going back home. I want to see everybody. I miss all our friends. I miss my dad.”

 Steve nodded, giving her hand a squeeze, “okay.”

 She nodded back and pushed herself from her sitting position, leaning over the console until their faces were close, their lips a whisper away from one another. “Okay,” she whispered against his lips and Steve gazed up at her, his deep, brown irises melting into hers. His gaze fleeted down to her lips as he reached a hand around to cup the back of her head, pulling her mouth down onto his. 

 His lips were soft and she melted into them as if they were a pillow. Steve kissed her with an urgent, tender need, like his tongue was telling her a million sorrys he couldn’t relay in words. She moaned into his mouth when he squeezed her hip with the hand not tangled in her hair and she climbed her way over the console and onto his lap, her hands on either of his cheeks, the firestorm on her skin erupting into a volcano, hot magma pouring over her and pooling onto him. 

 His kisses trailed down her chin to the underside of her jaw, her fingers inching their way to his hair, giving the roots a tug when he sucked a mark there. Her lips fell apart in a gasp at the feeling of his teeth ghosting over her flesh, teasing a bite on the sensitive part of her neck. “Steve,” she mewled as his hands felt up her waist, to her stomach, and around to the buttons of her jersey. 

 “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured against her lips when his kisses found their way back to her mouth, his fingers working at the buttons of her jersey. “I’m an asshole,” he mumbled as he pushed her now fully opened shirt down her arms, his mouth hot when they found her one of her erect nipples and she threw her head back, squeezing the roots of his tendrils tighter. 

 “Mm mm,” she shook her head as he swirled his tongue around her peaked bud, staring up at her through a hooded gaze as he sucked. “You’re… not!” She arched her back and moaned when he released her breast with a pop, trailing kisses between the valley of her tits to ravage the other. “Not an… asshole.”

 His smile was a crescent against her skin as he worked at the other and she pressed her lips together in a whimper, feeling heat pool between her legs, her core clenching when she ground her hips down into his erection. “Stevie,” she panted when he released her breast, kissing her collarbone until he could make out dark marks in her skin. “Hmm?” He hummed against her flesh, glancing up at her. 

 She ground her hips down into him once again, causing him to groan and buck his own up into her. She gasped at this, feeling tears sting her eyes before streaming down her cheeks. “I just… I just wanna feel you,” she managed to breathe out, her teeth pinching her bottom lip hard enough that she nearly drew blood. “Just want you inside me.”

 Steve probably could’ve come from just her voice alone. His cock was aching and throbbing in his sweats and he tapped the underside of her thighs to tell her to sit up. She mewled as she rose off his lap, allowing them both to strip themselves from their pants and underwear. 

 Their eyes surged into one another as Steve’s middle and pointer finger traced a line down her center, his palm flush with her clit, her lids fluttering closed and a cry erupting from her throat and permeating the small space of his car. “You’re dripping for me, baby,” Steve purred, using his other hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks, the pad of his thumb soothing over her closed eyelids. “You always get so wet for me,” he praised, drawing her face closer to his to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. “You’re always such a good girl for me. Always make me so proud.”

 “Stevie,” she mewled, voice dripping with need from his words. His fingers still worked back and forth over her slit, the tips teasing her clit and every so often, her entrance. “Yeah baby?” He cooed, nuzzling the bridge of his nose against the underside of her jaw. She whimpered again, “just need you inside. Please.”

 Neither of them could care any less that anyone could easily be watching them right now, all they cared about was each other. All Steve wanted to do right now was take care of his girl, to make sure she felt wanted, needed, heard. 

 So he wasted no time in grabbing a hold of the base of his cock, hissing between his teeth at the sight of her cunt just dripping, aching to be filled. He gazed back up at her and reached for her face, cupping her cheek with one hand and kneading the flesh of her hip with the other. “Look at me,” he whispered, waiting until her eyelids fluttered back open and he could stare into his gorgeous irises of hers. “You ready?” He asked with a little nod, and when she nodded back almost immediately, he guided her down into his lap with the hand on her hip, his lips falling agape, a deep, guttural groan bellowing from his throat. 

 She cried as he slowly pushed himself all the way in until she was fully seated in his lap, crystals of tears resting on her eyelashes. Even after all these years, she couldn’t believe how big he was, how every inch seemed to fill her up in the most perfect way, leaving no part of her untouched. 

 And Steve couldn’t believe how tight she still was. She always squeezed him in just the right way, her pussy always seeming eager to milk him, and he always seemed to be near spent even when they had just started. 

 “Ready to move?” He murmured close to her ear and she nodded, lifting her hips gently before setting her pace, either of his hands now on her waist, guiding her up and down his cock. The windows had since fogged up, the lights outside nothing more than white and orange dots, like watercolors. She managed to peel her eyes open enough to peer down at him, her lips finding his, their moans muffled against each other. 

 “I love you,” Steve purred against her mouth, his breath hot and making liquid of her insides. She felt her heart skip a beat when he said this, as if it were the first time she’d ever heard him say it. It was like this with everything with Steve. He made every touch, every kiss, every ‘I love you,’ every everything feel like the first time. 

 And that’s what she loved most about him. 

 ���I…” she gasped at a particular deep thrust, rivers of tears streaming down her cheeks. “…oh God! I love you too!”

 Her palms ventured down the chest of his t-shirt until they reached the hem, tugging at it to signal that she wanted it off. Steve wasted no time in reaching down to pull it up and over his head, her hips still rocking back and forth on his cock as he discarded it somewhere behind him, his hands cupping either of her elbows and drawing her mouth back onto his. 

 She was so dangerously close to the edge, Steve was so dangerously close to the edge. It was enough to make her cry out, to wrap her arms around Steve’s head and hug him close to her chest. “Gonna… fuck! Gonna come baby?” Steve groaned as he thrusted up into her, meeting her hips in rhythm with her rocking. She nodded, unable to speak as a spark trailed down her stomach until it erupted in flame at her center, white light flashing behind her eyelids as she exploded, a blissful heat ripping through her. 

 Steve’s hands cradled the small of her back as she struggled to catch her breath, letting him pound her through her orgasm until he too let himself go, spurts of his seed spilling somewhere deep inside her, painting her cervix like it was his canvas. 

 He held her tighter as she trembled, panting and chasing air back into her lungs, aftershocks rumbling through her as he slowed his hips before pulling out altogether, making sure his hands were there to catch her before she fell. 

 His palm cracked the back of her head to his chest, their pants slowly dwindling down to soft breaths, their skin melting into each other until they became one. His thumb soothed over her shoulder blade, his other arm wrapped around her waist, ensuring neither he nor she were going anywhere. 

 “I’ve got you,” he whispered close to her ear, his breath hot as it rolled over her skin. “And I’m sorry. I promise I’ll hear you out from now on. You shouldn’t feel like you’re being silenced around me.”

 He could feel her smile against the curve of his shoulder, her lips pressing a soft kiss to his skin. His lips curled into their own smile. “Thank you,” she murmured against his flesh. “Can we just stay here like this for a minute?”

 He hummed into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Mhm,” he hummed, resting his cheek against their head and letting his eyelids flutter closed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

a/n; i have literally been wanting to write an mlb player steve au for the longest time and i just never have gotten around to it 😭 i'm not sure if any of you know this, but i used to play softball, started playing when i was 8 years old all the way up until my senior year of high school, so softball/baseball has pretty much always been a big part of my life and LAWD can you just imagine steve as a major leaguer 😍 anyways, its been awhile since i've posted anything steve related and i'm so sorry for that! but i hope you all enjoy this one! it turned out to be a lot longer than i initially expected it to lol (ps, i definitely wouldn’t mind writing more for major leaguer steve in the future 👀)

TAGLIST

@thesilentshape @oliviajdjarin 🫶

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #baseball player steve harrington #mlb player!steve harrington #baseball player!steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things

[cindylcuwho]

¡ purely nonsense , prologue ♥︎ !

“ ⭒.‧ i don’t even know , im talking nonsense ‧. ⭒ “

01 — 02 — more to come 🥥

* ⋆ . · ⋆ y/n laid on her stomach, her left thumb mindlessly scrolled through tiktoks, occasionally doubling tapping to heart entertaining videos.

after seeing the fifth edit of herself, which used similar clips to the ones before, she closed tiktok and opened twitter in hopes of better entertainment.

always wanting to be in touch with her fans, she regularly viewed her mentions and right now was no different. many fans were tagging her in late album reviews, random photos and mindless tweets, the occasional hate tag, and some begging for a collab with varies of different artists.

one mentions caught her eye. well, multiple, actually. the first three began the in similar ways, “ @ y/nsmusical omg ?!! “ . she refreshed the page, thinking that twitter was just glitching and showing the same tweet over and over. though the mention didn’t go away, in fact more popped up.

she clicked on the top one and it led her to a 45 second clip of three random strangers that shared the same face.

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

“growing up, i had the fattest crush on marge from the simpsons” the guy wearing a sky blue hoodie with ‘fresh love’ printed on the front joked.

the camera switched, showing off the blonde version of the guy before, except he was wearing a plain white shirt. “can we be honest? homer would be a huge sma—“

the other two began bursting out laughing, not letting him finish the sentence. the blonde giggled along with them, “what, i thought dad bods were in right now?”

“nick, no!” one of them cried out, still laughing. “as if any of your celebrity crushes are any better?!” ‘nick’ defended.

the one wearing a backwards pink trucker hat moved his mic closer, staring nick dead in the eyes. “are you calling mine –who is a grammy nominee and an it girl since childhood– as bad as a yellow cartoon?!“

“yours hasn’t changed since you were eleven, chris! its time to move on, buddy!” blue hoodie guy snorted out. he looked at the camera with a shrug, “he’s been obsessed with y/n carpenter since.. i wanna say a little before girl meets world and that ended, what? 2017?”

chris jumped up and down his seat, “why’re we name dropping?? matt, stopp!” he exclaimed. “damn, not even gonna deny the allegations, christopher?”

chris looked down at the table, a rosy blush creeped on his cheeks as he thought of the words.

“there’s nothing to deny.. y/ns influence is probably the reason i’m the man that i am, and you know what? she’s still doing great things and thriving.”

nick gasped, “oh!,” he tapped on the table, reminded of something, “she’s supposed to be releasing an album hella soon– are you gonna be streaming?”

chris smirked, “of course, anything to support my girl.” nick and matt let out an ‘ooo’ at their younger brothers sudden boldness.

“your girl?” matt scoffed, challenging his brothers attitude. chris nodded, arms crossed. “y/n doesn’t know you exist, kid.” he reminded.

“she will, and then we’ll get married and i’ll star in the reboot season of girl meets world. that’s been the dream.” chris listed off his plans. “marriage before the first date is crazy,” nick stated.

the three began changing the subject, which was when the clip ended.

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

y/n exited the video tab, a small smile rested on her face. she knew there was definitely fans that stuck around from her younger acting years, fans that were other influencers, and definitely fans that believed they could steal her heart, but the cockiness from this ‘chris’ guy was undeniably kind of attractive.

‘who is he?’ she wondered. though intrigued, y/n was too lazy to go on another deep google search about someone so she stuck to what would have the best and quickest response.

tweeting out to her fans.

her thumbs tapped for a minute, before hitting ‘tweet’, knowing there was no turning back.

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

within seconds people were already responding with numerous answers.

↳ @ y/nsemails : OH MY GOD WHAT

↳ @ nessabarrett : your future husband apparently ⁉️ ↻ @ynsmusical : damnit thought i had a chance to relate to ylm

↳ @ sturnstar : which one of yall snitched 😭

↳ @ beybayboo : search sturniolo triplets on youtube !! ↻ @ynsmusical : finally a real answer 😻😻

↳ randomuzer : oooo chris is in trouble 😮‍💨

↳ user123 : pls don’t lower your standards to some youtuber 🤢🤢 ↻ @ chrissbaby : calm down she was just asking who he was ..

↳ @ lilnasx : industry baby reference 😌 ↻ @ y/nsmusical : ofccc ur always on repeat ❣️

↳ @ grlm33tswrld : WAIT OMG WE NEED A SHIP NAME ↻ @ lo0kingaty/n : no we do not !!

↳ @ billieeilish : did we just find whose house your sock is at ?? ↻ @ y/nmusical : shh you’re leaking my music thats illegal 😞😞

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

sturniolo triplets. well yeah it made sense they were, they had the same face how did that not click?

youtube was immediately opened, the display showing off their channel that already had a pretty decent amount of subscribers.

somehow, innocently wanting to know who this random guy is turned into binge watching his and his triplet brothers youtube videos.

y/n wouldn’t deny, they were definitely funny– and quite loud. chris’s energy in the 20 minute long videos matched hers, partially confirming that her influence truly did influence the man he is today.

she was laughing at whatever nonsense chris was saying, nick and matt obviously did not care with the expressions on their face. the moment got cut short when her phone began to ring, her good friend billie calling.

“hey!” she spoke. “hey, would you mind coming to the studio real quick? it’s for the album.”

y/n sat up on the edge of her bed, praying nothing was wrong with it. it was supposed to come out within the following month. what if all the files were deleted? or even worse, what if songs were leaked.

“i thought today was my day off?” she rested her phone on her white nightstand, putting it speaker on so she can slip on a random pair of socks.

“it is- but don’t worry, we just need to record some extra vocals, nothing too big and we’ll be out of there within 20.” billie reassured.

she nodded, already walking out to her car. billie had already hung up, letting y/n hook the bluetooth from her phone up to her car to play music.

her right hand rested on the stick shift, her left currently swiping through apps. she was about to swipe up on instagram, but something told her not to.

she had to be in the studio within ten minutes, this would only take a couple of seconds, right? typing in the search bar, his account was the first to pop up.

y/n debated with herself in her head. there’s no real point in doing this, this puts him in a 50/50 spotlight and could cause rumors on top of rumors.

rolling her eyes and ignoring the doubtful thoughts, she pressed the button and exited the app, going back to spotify to play her favorite playlist as she drove.

‘ y/nsmusical began following christophersturniolo ‘

— ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ dedicated to , and idea created by @freshloveee :)

— ꒰ 💭 ꒱ was so excited to write this- sorry that the ending kind of drags on, i didn’t know how to end it lmaoo! how we feelin’ though ? (comment if you wanna be added to a taglist- i might do one for this)

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo snaps #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt sturniolo series #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #sabrina carpenter #nonsense #emails i can't send #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

[feckcops]

The public wants to save the planet – as long as it doesn’t personally inconvenience them

“Back in July, Just Stop Oil (JSO) experienced something unusual – they found they were the ones being protested. An alternative group called Just Stop Pissing People Off attempted to block Just Stop Oil from engaging in disruptive protests and interrupted their events, saying that the climate crisis is real but that JSO is distracting and alienating people. The counter-protests tell us a great deal about Britain’s contradictory attitude to the climate crisis.

“Broadly, Brits understand that the climate crisis climate change is a major problem. 65% of us are worried about the climate crisis (versus just 28% who aren’t) while the same proportion supports the government’s aim of reducing Britain’s net carbon emissions to zero by 2050 ... Eight in 10 back more tree planting, subsidies for energy-efficient homes and higher taxes for high-carbon companies. 62% would support a requirement for all energy production to come from renewable sources. But this enthusiasm has its limits.

“When asked if they would back policies that would impose limits on what they personally can do, Brits quickly turn against them. For instance, two-thirds oppose the idea of a limit on how much meat they can buy, and a majority oppose banning petrol and diesel cars ... Even though 62% of voters back the idea of requiring all energy to be renewable, just 39% want to ban new North Sea oil fields, and a mere 32% want to prohibit the sale of gas boilers ...

“The British public is not as supportive of action on the climate crisis as many environmentalists would hope. We favour general, uncontentious ideas – net zero, tree-planting, tax rises on high-carbon companies – but when asked for our opinion on a climate policy that would directly affect us personally, we baulk. This is partly due to worries about the cost of living, but it’s also about avoiding personal inconvenience.

“Just Stop Pissing Everyone Off perfectly encapsulates the British attitude to the climate crisis: sure, it’s a problem, but not ours. As Homer Simpson once asked: ‘Can’t someone else do it?’”

#just stop oil #climate activists #climate activism #activism #climate crisis #climate breakdown #climate change #climate #tree planting #home insulation #low emission zones #renewable energy #renewables #oil and gas #fossil fuels #motorists #public opinion #brits #uk

[dootznbootz]

Odysseus was afraid the entire year on Aeaea in the Odyssey.

Content warnings: Rape, Sexual Coercion, Sexual assault, Sex Work, power dynamics, this will also be long as fuck as I talk too much. This is NOT a "Circe the Goddess Hate Post". I call her out but that's it. I tried to keep this neutral but still making a point (Let me know if I gotta put more)

Lots of lovely folks on here have written great essays on what Calypso did to Odysseus as it's soooo blatantly obvious there. It literally states how he cried every day and how he flinched from Calypso, very straightforward on how he was explicitly raped.

But I've noticed that a lot of people are always iffy about Circe's situation (understandably so, it's not so in your face.) She's usually always mentioned in the "Odysseus never cheated! He was raped!" posts but then the evidence is only ever given against Calypso, and then mentioning how you can't say no or disobey the orders of an immortal and how it was in exchange for freeing his men.

WHICH IS ALL CORRECT!!! But!!!

There ARE immortal/mortal couples who genuinely love each other. Dionysus and Ariadne, and Eros and Psyche are examples. Apollo and Hyacinthus. Psyche indeed becomes immortal eventually and in some versions, both Hyacinthus and Ariadne do too. But even while mortal themselves, their immortal lovers still remained respectful and loving towards them and definitely doted on them. There are definitely power dynamics at play here but there's some nuance.

Odysseus and Circe's relationship, however, is very different. We all know he slept with her at the very least once. And that was in exchange for his men being returned to humans. That was the only time it was explicitly stated. With Calypso, it tells you every night he was enchanted and slept beside her. It was the narrator speaking but Odysseus is the narrator now and it's his story. If you think he lied, this probably won't change your mind anyway.

But even if it was a one-time thing, (which isn't the only interpretation and I will have points that talk about others) then why did he stay a year? What was he doing?

I'm doing a deep dive into the year he spent on Aeaea based on evidence in Book 10 and then the beginning of Book 12. Step by step, and honestly I'm writing this for Tumblr, not as a thesis so I will be a bit more casual but still using sources. To me, it's very obvious that he was uncomfortable throughout the text simply based on the language that is used. But it's very subtle and not an outright statement of "He's been crying every day."

BTW, just so we're clear, this is not a "Circe is the root of all evil, etc." type of post.

This isn't meant to villainize her. She's an immortal being and in mythology that changes things. Everybody is morally gray. I genuinely think if we were to ask her feelings on it, she'd probably be like "Oh, yeah! Turned his men into pigs! Strange little man he was." I don't think she gave a flying fuck.

I just simply get pissed tf off when people think Odysseus was fine. It honestly disturbs me how often I'll go on other websites YouTube and see everyone call him a whore and a womanizer. It's sexism at its finest because 1.) "MaN AlwAyS wAnTs sEx" and 2.) women can't rape/coerce. THIS IS SIMPLY TO LOOK INTO HIS FEELINGS ABOUT IT.

This is also only for Homer's Odyssey, using different translations. If you want to discuss this, (I'd be happy to! Just be nice!) DON'T BRING UP ANY OTHER WORKS.

With all that out of the way, come yell with me 🤗

I've read multiple translations, as I know there's going to be bias depending on who's translating. And having done so, each one has basically the same situations described the same so that's nice for consistency. Also, there are some parts in the story that are vague and that we'll never have answers to.

Odysseus first simply sees the smoke from her chimney and then sends his men in, after drawing lots Eurylochus leads half of the men to check out the house. I mentioned here vaguely how the 2 immortals he sleeps with are both introduced while singing and weaving, which could be seen as an enchantment (which to me is most likely. They both possess magic and are goddesses). So I'm just gonna move past that. Just take a peek and come back or just know that enchantment was likely.

Next, I'll see people often joke on Tumblr about how

"Odysseus says that Polites is his best friend yet only mentions him once!"

I think Odysseus mentions his best friend, the one to jubilantly go in first, to show WHY he would go through with this. How much these comrades mean to him. That's his best friend, and there are approximately 20 others who are now pigs as well. Could you knowingly leave one of your best friends to live a life like that knowing you could've done something?

[...]Circe—and deep inside they heard her singing, lifting her spellbinding voice as she glided back and forth at her great immortal loom, her enchanting web a shimmering glory only goddesses can weave. Polites, captain of armies, took command, the closest, most devoted man I had: ‘Friends, there’s someone inside, plying a great loom, and how she sings—enthralling! The whole house is echoing to her song. Goddess or woman—let’s call out to her now!’ So he urged and the men called out and hailed her. She opened her gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting them all in, and in they went, all innocence.

(Fagles, Book 10)

In the Odyssey, it's never mentioned why she turns people into animals. I think they were turned into pigs because, throughout the Iliad and Odyssey, Odysseus is often associated with boars. His men are associated with him, therefore: 🐖 Piggy. From what we know, the lads were just eating her food. With how much Xenia and hospitality are a large part of the story, they probably thought they were safe. They were GUESTS. This is especially welcome after the Cyclops and the Laestrygonians. And it literally says "All innocence". They were simply naive.

Then Eurylochus runs back, so terrified that he couldn't speak at first. He then begs Odysseus to just leave the men behind. Odysseus has shown that he does TRY to save his men when it is truly not reckless to do so.

But I shot back, ‘Eurylochus, stay right here, eating, drinking, safe by the black ship. I must be off. Necessity drives me on.’

(Fagles, Book 10)

Then the famous warning from Hermes. I've seen folks bring this up when talking about this. YES, he is literally commanded by Hermes to not refuse her if he wants his men back in basically every translation. It sounds like Circe was warned as well. When? We don't know, but it sounds like Hermes didn't pick "sides" here.

Strange that he was still like, "Sleep with each other" to both, because he could've been like, "Circe, there's this guy named Odysseus. When he comes to this island, change his men back." But who knows, maybe it was Circe's idea from the beginning and Hermes went along with it. Just food for thought.

Now here’s your plan of action, step by step. The moment Circe strikes with her long thin wand, you draw your sharp sword sheathed at your hip and rush her fast as if to run her through! She’ll cower in fear and coax you to her bed— but don’t refuse the goddess’ bed, not then, not if she’s to release your friends and treat you well yourself. But have her swear the binding oath of the blessed gods she’ll never plot some new intrigue to harm you, once you lie there naked— never unman you, strip away your courage!’

(Fagles, Book 10)

But that doesn't explain why he was there for a year afterward! Nor if he himself was okay with it, which is what I'm trying to delve into as he wasn't.

Also the knife thing? She's still immortal. It was meant to startle her. Her dad is Helios. Odysseus would've been toast, literally.

Also note this exchange wasn't a "Yippee! Hermes says I'm going to get laid!".

...just approaching the halls of Circe, my heart a heaving storm at every step, paused at her doors, the nymph with lovely braids— I stood and shouted to her there. She heard my voice, she opened the gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting me in, and in I went, all anguish now …

(Fagles, Book 10)

Another translation by Ian Johnston, (they all say the same thing essentially but trying to make a point.)

I continued on to Circe’s home. As I moved on, my heart was turning over many gloomy thoughts. After I had walked up to the gateway                                                of fair-haired Circe’s house, I just stood there and gave a shout. The goddess heard my voice.                      She came out at once, opened her bright doors, and invited me inside. I entered, heart full of misgivings.

HE👏WAS👏SCARED! The tone is solemn and suspenseful. He was just told that without Hermes' help with the root, he wouldn't be able to survive and bring back his men. Circe was dangerous.

He made her swear not to harm him.

Straightaway she began to swear the oath that I required—never, she’d never do me harm—and when she’d finished, then, at last, I mounted Circe’s gorgeous bed …

(Fagles, Book 10)

Please note that she NEVER promised that to his men. His comrades did NOT have moli in their systems. He had no way of truly ensuring their safety in any way from Circe.

He then refuses to eat or speak, literally "lost in grim forebodings". If he "just got laid", then why isn't he happy? Not many men can say that a goddess CHOSE to have sex with them. He did it to get his men turned back. It was an exchange. I don't think Circe is "Evil" so maybe it slipped her mind. Or yes, she could've thought, "Hey, I got what I wanted. He's handsome enough. Homer never shuts up about how hot this guy is He hasn't brought up the pigs yet. I'll just let this play out. Maybe HE forgot. I don't have to do anything." We don't know. But Odysseus probably felt like he got deceived.

"Hey, I did my part of the deal. I slept with you. Now do yours."

She pressed me to eat. I had no taste for food. I just sat there, mind wandering, far away … lost in grim forebodings. As soon as Circe saw me, huddled, not touching my food, immersed in sorrow, she sidled near with a coaxing, winged word: ‘Odysseus, why just sit there, struck dumb, eating your heart out, not touching food or drink? Suspect me of still more treachery? Nothing to fear. Haven’t I just sworn my solemn, binding oath?’

So she asked, but I protested, ‘Circe— how could any man in his right mind endure the taste of food and drink before he’d freed his comrades-in-arms and looked them in the eyes? If you, you really want me to eat and drink, set them free, all my beloved comrades— let me feast my eyes.’ So I demanded.

(Fagles, Book 10)

He doesn't trust her despite what she had told him that he should when they sleep together. He has figured out that while she will not hurt him, his men were not a part of that oath, the men he was trying to protect in the first place.

She is then moved by how they rejoice when they see one another again. While turning people into animals for funsies isn't cool and coercion is fucked up, I think she comes to see this group as not quite friends but I think she did find them entertaining in a way.

This is very strange but I've seen some folks say that since Odysseus was pissed at Eurylochus for still not believing him about Circe is proof that "Oh he was trying to defend her!". Which??? Uh, Eurylochus was literally questioning his leadership as a whole. Calling him reckless and shit. He is captain and he's the King, he can't let that shit slide. The text literally says "Mutinous". Also if I had to sleep with someone I did not want to especially if it was to save my friends and I got called names afterward I'd get fucking pissed too.

Only Eurylochus tried to hold my shipmates back, his mutinous outburst aimed at one and all: ‘Poor fools, where are we running now? Why are we tempting fate?— why stumble blindly down to Circe’s halls? She’ll turn us all into pigs or wolves or lions made to guard that palace of hers—by force, I tell you— just as the Cyclops trapped our comrades in his lair with hotheaded Odysseus right beside them all— thanks to this man’s rashness they died too!

They stay a year. Again it's never stated that Odysseus slept with her that whole time. You could interpret that. (Honestly, I feel Circe would get bored with him? She's a goddess, she's got more important matters than mortal men. And she definitely doesn't love him.)

His men DO have to bring it up that "Odysseus has forgotten his native land." Maybe they thought they could sneak out without her knowing??? I am fucking REACHING but hold on as Telemachus did because he knew Nestor would well, be Nestor and try to coax him with "Have a meal with us! Let me tell you about how badass I used to be in my youth." But to sneak away from a goddess? Without her permission? That won't end too well. Aeolus in the beginning kicked out Odysseus when he tried to ask for another bag of wind. If she didn't want him around, she could literally boot him out. While she didn't force him to stay like Calypso did, she didn't "release" him either.

We don't know if they've been asking for a long time. Odysseus does say to Circe that they have been begging him nonstop, but he could also be saying that to try and convince her. He's good at persuasion. I think while he knew he could rely on her for food, shelter, and good advice, he still didn't feel...SAFE with her. I think he was possibly avoiding her personally.

I think HOW he asks her to leave is important to know as well.

...but I went up to that luxurious bed of Circe’s, hugged her by the knees and the goddess heard my winging supplication: ‘Circe, now make good a promise you gave me once— it’s time to help me home. My heart longs to be home, my comrades’ hearts as well. They wear me down, pleading with me whenever you’re away.’

(Fagles, Book 10)

Throughout all of Homer's works, the characters grasp another's knees when they are desperate and are literally at the other person's mercy. Priam did when begging Achilles for Hector's body back. The man who literally killed his son and was defiling his body by dragging it around. Leodes grabs Odysseus' knees to beg for his life before Ody kills him. If he saw her as a friend, and not a captor, WHY DID HE FEEL THE NEED TO BEG IN ORDER TO LEAVE?! No one, who is in a healthy relationship, has to BEG for permission to leave. Or to "Break up", if you interpret them as still sleeping together.

And even Circe acknowledges that he is there against his will!

‘Royal son of Laertes, Odysseus, old campaigner, stay on no more in my house against your will.

(Fagles, Book 10)

[...]Odysseus, man of many resources, scion of Zeus, son of Laertes, don’t stay here a moment longer against your will

(A.S. Kline, Book 10)

This is probably another reach that you can ignore but the whole "they wear me down", could be trying to appease her. "Look, you're REALLY cool, it's actually my crew that wants to leave hahahah please don't kill them"

I mentioned before how Telemachus snuck away from Nestor but that was simply out of necessity because he needed to go home now. Not rest for the night. NOW. Nestor is just everyone's grandpa. Menelaus kind of talked more but Telemachus is very straight up in "Please I have to go now" and Menelaus immediately got things ready for him. He never has to beg and clasp his knees. Telemachus was never afraid. Menelaus is a fun uncle and Helen is your cool auntie.

Back to Circe! She tells him instructions for the underworld, they were in her bedroom. But that might've been the only way to speak with her. As even Penelope is usually away from the suitors when they are in her halls, Circe may have done the same. The text never states she played hostess physically. If she was hosting in the halls during the day, why did Odysseus wait until night to talk to her? He could've just asked her while she was on her throne in front of everyone. (He did so with the Phaeacians)

Or maybe he went alone because she only swore an oath to not harm him and so he didn't want his men near if she decided she didn't want to let them go. I could be missing something here so feel free to say something. Idk if this was a pride thing on how "I don't want others to see me beg".

She has info he needs in order to go home as well. She tells him to go to the Underworld.

She gave him new fine clothes and put on pretty clothes herself but that doesn't mean they had sex. Nausicaa gave him nice clothes as well but he never slept with her.

Then he leaves. Immediately. Not even doing a headcount as he didn't realize one of his men had died. (That was negligence on his part but he wanted out) He booked it, to the UNDERWORLD BY THE WAY. Circe even had to sneak the animals he needed for the sacrifice. Odysseus even basically said "She's a goddess. She can do things mortals can't" at the end of the book. And it almost feels...Numb? Solemn? Neutral? Gives a "It is what it is" vibe.

But Circe got to the dark hull before us, tethered a ram and black ewe close by— slipping past unseen. Who can glimpse a god who wants to be invisible gliding here and there?

(Fagles, Book 10)

She’d slipped past us with ease, for who can see a god move back and forth, if she has no desire to be observed?

(Johnston, Book 10)

She's a goddess. She has magic. She can do whatever the fuck she wants.

NOW ON TO BOOK 12!!! That was long! GET A SNACK AND WATER! LUCKILY THIS'LL BE SHORTER!

In Book 11, Odysseus swears, upon all his loved ones in Ithaca, to Elpenor that he'd give him a proper burial as he's been "unwept, unburied". So in Book 12, he sails back to Aeaea to fulfill his promise.

But you know what's funny to me?

He didn't tell Circe he was there.

He didn't even go to greet Circe himself. He sent his men to go get Elpenor's body.

The biggest clue that he didn't love/trust her is that if she was his "Affair partner" then why not go see her for "one last night together"?

SHE came out herself and pulled him aside to know what happened and then gave more advice.

I dispatched some men to Circe’s halls to bring the dead Elpenor’s body. [...]

Nor did our coming back from Death escape Circe— she hurried toward us, decked in rich regalia, handmaids following close with trays of bread and meats galore and glinting ruddy wine. [...]

But Circe, taking me by the hand, drew me away from all my shipmates there and sat me down and lying beside me probed me for details

(Fagles, Book 12)

In every translation, it talks about how he sits, and she lounges/lies down. That's not sex 🙃 In some translations, it even says he tried to be with his shipmates but she pulled him away!

So we lay down and slept beside our ship’s stern cables. But Circe took me by the hand and led me away, some distance from the crew. She made me sit, while she stretched out beside me on the ground. 

(Johnston, Book 12)

Then, she gives advice about the sirens, Charybdis, Scylla, and her father's Cattle. He tries to ask if he could save all his men. She scolds him for even thinking he could try. He again books it out of there.

I think we all know it wasn't "love". But I think a lot of people think Odysseus was willing and happy with whatever this was. "Friends with Benefits", if you will. I guess you could see it that way but I will say that makes me feel itchy with the whole power dynamic and fear. I don't think folks who have that arrangement have to beg on their knees to ask if they can leave though.

I mean the entirety of Book 10 gives me the vibes of "Laughing uncomfortably because you don't want to upset the other person". To just grin and bear it.

A lot of this was just putting the text here and picking it apart step by step. What you do with this is up to you. It's rambling while banging pots and pans together.

Maybe you see him as drugged the entire year and still sleeping together, as the moli "wore off". Even then, just because her magic can't affect him, there are plenty of natural concoctions that can be created that can affect mortals.

Maybe you see the entire year as sex work in exchange for shelter and food.

Maybe he was just alongside his men the whole time under her roof and was avoiding her after the exchange. After he got asked by his men to finally leave, he would start to walk up to that room only to freeze and turn around, thinking "One more day won't hurt. Should wait until I know she's in a sympathetic mood".

I beg of you, however, PLEASE understand that there was fear and coercion throughout his entirety on Aeaea. He wasn't staying to get laid. While there is so much going on and too many things that are left vague to really know exactly what happened, it is consistent that he was scared/numb. Lots of people go through with things they don't really want to do just to appease others. There are plenty of situations of sexual trauma where one person goes through something and the other has no idea the other person isn't okay. ESPECIALLY WHEN SOMEONE CAN HARM THE PEOPLE YOU CARE ABOUT AT ANY MOMENT!

Sexual trauma is a very complicated thing and while he was scared, he definitely wasn't as traumatized by her as he was by Calypso. Calypso was a torturous hell while Circe was a year of walking on eggshells. Not comparable but I still think it should be acknowledged. It's wild because I read the Odyssey and kept thinking "Y'all are calling the sex slave a cheater? The guy who slept with a goddess to get his men back? The ultimate simp apparently doesn't love his wife??"

Things I'm adding that shouldn't affect the argument as it is not in the Odyssey but I want to mention as it's a "fun fact": Odysseus' dad was an Argonaut. Laertes probably met Circe as well, (or knew of her) with the whole purifying thing and maybe Odysseus heard his dad tell stories of her. Later myths also have Circe with the habit of turning her crushes (or their lovers) into something with Scylla and Picus.

In conclusion, Yeah, he was afraid of her. At least to an extent. And don't pull the whole "Ancient men didn't get raped". Male victims exist and deserve compassion for what was done to them and women are capable of sexual abuse. If you think otherwise, you are not a true feminist and Fuck you. I said in the beginning this'll be casual and I don't wanna write a fancy ending. You can still think Circe is neat but you have to know that this was fucked up.

If you think a lot of this is bullshit or wanna give more context or wish to yell with me but still know he wasn't alright on Aeaea, cool. If you want to point out mistakes or something I should keep in mind with interpretations then feel free to say so but give text evidence. If you try and bring up the Telegony and/or Madeline Miller's Circe, fuck clean off. This is Homer. If you call Odysseus a whore and not the malewife he canonically is I'll start biting. 😤

#feel free to add thoughts! just be nice #Was a bit afraid to post this but now I don't care lol #I'm a tired bitch #Youtube and idiots on tumblr got me acting up. #This may be too thorough but idc. #idk why the colors get weird #I don't know how other people can see all these things lined up together and not see how he was not okay. #like I said you can still like circe the goddess but know this was wrong! #might make private sometime but fuck it #anti-madeline miller #Circe the goddess is “fine”. Circe the book is not #It sounds like it does her dirty anyways. Odyssey Circe would take book Circe out back and beat the absolute shit outta her. #As another Madeline I'm ashamed. #if you bring up the tele-GONE-y then BEGONE yourself #odysseus #the odyssey #odyssey #circe #tagamemnon #tw rape #tw sa #tw sex assault #crying shaking throwing up #greek mythology #circe rant #odyssey rant #anti madeline miller #anti circe #the BOOK #Mad rambles

[theodysseyofhomer]

when i insist on odysseus as a rape victim i'm not trying to absolve him of patriarchy. he is, in many ways, a hero of patriarchy. even if i think some of the people who use him that way rhetorically have probably not read the odyssey, let alone understood its nuances, the cultural world of the poem and the narrative itself are patriarchal, and odysseus is both a product and perpetrator of that. but when i read about calypso forcing odysseus to have sex with her, i will still call it rape, not because i like him as a character, although i do, but because i think to not do so reveals a very troubling attitude toward rape and patriarchy in the ancient context and now.

i've tried and tried but i don't know how to have this conversation with someone who is determined not to accept the premise that, in the text of the odyssey, odysseus has no choice in the matter. if they've read the text, it's right there. from what i can read of the greek, it's there (ἀνάγκη, force, constraint). i've never read a translation where it wasn't there. if they just don't care, that pretty much kills the discussion.* but sometimes they'll try to sidestep it, bringing up that the text implies he slept with calypso willingly at some point, or arguing that she doesn't explicitly compel him on the last night they spend together before he leaves ogygia forever.** to be frank, that's not the point. i'm not trying to absolve him even of the accusation of cheating on penelope. i'm not saying he was faithful to penelope. i'm saying he was still, at the point that we meet him in the odyssey, raped. period. i'm saying that's important in some way. i'm saying that using that word is important.

odysseus has power, as a man in a patriarchal society, but that power is not absolute. power is never absolute. i've heard it suggested that in the ancient context, the rape of odysseus is comic, in the sense of affirming life even in its indignities, and in the sense that humiliation is amusing (i have a lot of disagreements with the article, but it has given me endless food for thought). i'm quoting at length here, but bear with me:

Athena leaves Odysseus lingering on Calypso’s island in what is certainly the most unheroic, most challenging of all the trials that befall him on his return home. The narrator describes Odysseus as desperately wanting to leave Ogygia, crying in homesickness, but having to stay and, more to the point, share Calypso’s bed. I mentioned much earlier that an audience of that period would not expect celibacy from a married male away from home. Yet the situation must produce, it seems to me, quite another reaction in the males in the audience when the narrator emphasizes Odysseus’ profound unhappiness with the arrangements. In a patriarchal society of that time, where marriages were arranged and wedding nights were more likely than not sanctioned rape scenes, households teemed with female slaves, the highways and byways with prostitutes, men were no doubt accustomed from puberty to have their way easily with women, and on their own terms. Nothing in their experience would prepare them for enforced sexual servitude to a woman. [...] With this episode, the narrator has introduced a comic counterpart to the ubiquitous comments on the faithful Penelope’s celibacy, that is, the image of her husband manfully performing his nightly duties in the home of the insatiable Calypso. It is comic, yes, but also every man’s deepest fear.

why is it comic? because it's a reversal of expectation, of roles, of fortune. why is it unexpected? because it exploits the fear that a man could be treated by a woman the way he treats a woman; because a woman becomes monstrous by acting like a man. these are misogynistic ideas and fears, and they sound strikingly modern.

which means that: i understand the impulse to salvage calypso's image. i understand how it could be interesting or productive or empowering maybe, for some women, because homer is so concerned with any fault in penelope's sex life (reinforced by clytemnestra’s, and those of the slave women that odysseus and penelope own) and seemingly not at all with odysseus’. but calypso is arguing for the right of female gods to treat human beings however they want to, not for the rights of human women.

it also means that: the rape of odysseus becomes remarkable, when the rape of countless others is not, because of who he is. it's humiliating for him to be treated like a sex slave because he's a man and a king; other slaves are just slaves. similar logic is found elsewhere in the odyssey (it's humiliating for him to be treated like a beggar, but the other beggar in the house is just a beggar). this is not a text that believes in equal rights of any kind. but i think we have to ask the question, is it not rape because of that? should we not call it rape because he's a man, because he's a man who perpetrates specific evils, because other people have it worse? and why do i keep arguing that his situation is important to remark on?

god. i don't know. sometimes? just because we don't.

i've lost count of posts like this, comments like this, attitudes like this, of how many times i mention the odyssey and immediately hear about calypso, of how at best odysseus weeping on ogygia becomes the butt of the joke. and i'm not sorry that i don't find it more progressive than treating calypso as a shrill misogynistic stereotype. i do not find it interesting or original to take a man who is not in the position of power in a sexual encounter and say that he's being either disingenuous, ungrateful, or mystifying.

when we refuse to name what calypso does to odysseus as rape, absolutely regardless of what we feel for him, just that it happened, that that's what's going on, i think we do something sinister, potentially to real people. especially because this exists in a text where slavery is also often unnamed in translation and discussion, and other forms of rape and captivity and human suffering, and i think we need to name them all, without being afraid that naming one will take away from the others. saying odysseus was raped doesn't mean we excuse the intense misogyny penelope is subjected to, the enslaved lives of melantho and the other hanged women. it all matters. it's all important.

*as does the suggestion that odysseus could be lying and actually had a great time. but odysseus isn't the one telling us what's going down on ogygia; the narrator is. when given the opportunity, odysseus himself says very little, only maintaining that his heart wasn't in it. of course odysseus could be lying. he could always be lying. but calypso is the most relevant counter-perspective we have, and even she doesn't claim that odysseus wants her, just that she thinks he ought to be happy with her. it's to her obvious frustration that he isn't. without another authority in the text, saying "it could be straight lies" is a conversational dead-end.

and if, by the way, there's a lost version of the odyssey in which odysseus was philandering, and the version we have was written to clear him of those charges... it's still the version we have. how we deal with it says something about us.

**if i say "calypso raped odysseus" and a hypothetical person (actually several real people i have encountered) makes this counterargument, that implies that the threat of force is, then, what? not real? if 'at some point' being willing means that the harm of whatever came after that point is negated, it casts him as someone who mopes around out of boredom with an equal partner, when the text seems much clearer on the point that he's in this position against his will than under what circumstances and for how long he might have slept with her willingly. they are clearly not equals by the mere fact that she is a goddess; his mortality is, in calypso's eyes, the barrier between them. rip to everyone who finds the decision to leave ogygia a "surprising choice" but i am never less surprised by odysseus than when he's handling calypso as delicately as possible, in order to leave her as fast as he can.

#anna.txt #a tag for bitching #rape tw / #slavery tw / #one day i'll exhaust everything i have to say on this subject. and then you'll be sorry