#Teleme

[motion-of-the-ocean]

and here's my teleme, i don't feel like drawing his oufit, its honestly like most you'll see for him, cream white chiton with light blue accents I did give him earings sorry they're hard to see

feel free to send asks for him ^^

[vanillayoteart]

Coyote HRT: Week 0

Coyote HRT: Week 0 "I think the last-minute paw pads were what sold him. Saw that marker and went for it right before the call started haha. I was worried he saw me but he didn't say A THING... Probably shouldn't have used permanent marker though" major thanks to AyvieArt and Lakehounds for the inspiration Start - Prev - Next For those curious, the doctors notes read: "Rain - 5'9 227 Species Dysphoria --Subject is a 27 yr old human transgender female seeking treatment for species dysphoria, transition to canis latrans. -- projected timeline 24-26mo provider notes: xx/xx/xx Telemed Appt Patient claims to have been living as p.s. (preferred species) for 5+ yrs. Unable to provide sufficient evidence to support claims. Zoom bg changed to poor quality desert. Wearing costume & makeup. Relaxed. Practiced script. Sp3eaks in jokes. Difficult to (tell) truth from lies. Clever. Witty. Wise beyond years. Enjoys playing pranks as evidenced by costume. Despite initial deception, patient is excellent match for canis latrans"

[hanespiritu]

ON HIS KNEES

(Hermes x Telemachus (?))

written by: Han Espiritu

Note: I just got this idea from @ccoldsodaa from tiktok ....the animatic made me blush.

---

It was the third evening since the temple fires had dimmed, and still the sea had not yielded his father. Telemachus stood on the balcony of the palace at Ithaca, his robes untouched by the breeze, his hands clutched tight behind his back. The court within murmured of suitors, of inheritances, of long shadows stretching into fatherless nights.

He was tired. Gods, he was tired.

He had prayed already. To Athena, to Poseidon despite his fury, to Zeus. He had even left offerings at minor altars, hoping one neglected lesser deity might take pity.

But there was one god he hadn’t dared ask.

Until now.

The moon rose bright, polished like a coin. And on the temple steps, Telemachus knelt—not inside the sacred threshold, no. Outside. In the chill of dew and stone, he bared his knees to the cold. The temple of Hermes, Messenger of the Gods, Trickster of Olympus, Patron of Thieves and Travelers, stood silent. Telemachus bowed low.

“…Hermes. Argeiphontes. Fleet-footed one,” he whispered. “Please.”

No answer. Not even a breeze. The torches flickered and hummed in the windless night.

“I’m—I’m Telemachus. You know me. I am my father’s son.”

A pause.

Then, louder, with something cracking in his voice:

“I know you don’t care about mortals. That you flit between skies and shadows, laughing while we toil—but please, I’m begging you—”

He dropped flat to the marble, forehead pressed against cold stone.

“Please. I will do anything. I’ll honor you every day. I’ll build a shrine. I’ll burn golden honeycomb for you every festival. I’ll be a good boy. I promise.”

A sudden gust of wind—no, a whoosh—swept through the colonnades.

“...A good boy?” came a voice like a chuckle hidden in windchimes.

Telemachus looked up fast. His breath caught.

He had never seen a god in true form before.

Hermes hovered just above the ground, sandals winged and gleaming, his cloak fluttering weightlessly, curls tousled like ivy vines under sunlight. A staff twirled in his left hand, lazily, as though everything here bored him. But his cheeks—

—his cheeks were red.

“Did you say,” Hermes drawled, descending with infuriating elegance, “that you’d be a good boy for me?”

Telemachus flushed, but didn’t move. “I meant—I mean—I’ll be loyal. I’ll serve. Please, I just—”

“Oh, no no no,” Hermes waved a finger, then pointed it directly between Telemachus’s eyes. “You do not get to say things like that and then grovel on marble like some pious little virgin prince. That’s unfair.”

“I’m—what?”

Hermes blinked. “You’re lucky I’m into that.”

Telemachus blinked back.

“I—I didn’t mean to offend—”

Hermes, flustered and flapping his wings awkwardly, stepped back, pacing in a small circle like someone trying to reset their mood.

“Oh Olympus, you mortals and your knees, I swear—” he muttered to himself. “I was just passing by. Literally just flying to Delos to drop off a love letter from some Mycenaean barmaid to Apollo, and this—this beautiful mortal princeling just drops to the floor and says, ‘I promise I’ll be a good boy’—Are you trying to make a god combust?!”

Telemachus, who had until now never been flirted with by an immortal being, looked wildly between Hermes’ rapidly pacing form and his own trembling hands. “So…you’ll help?”

Hermes froze. Then turned.

“…You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Telemachus nodded, voice shaking now. “Yes. I’m not asking for riches or glory. I don’t want war. I don’t even need you to stay. I just want him home. I want my father.”

Hermes’ smile faltered. For a heartbeat, he looked young—not eternal, not divine, just…young. A boy with too many places to be, too many burdens on his feathered heels.

“You miss him.” Hermes said quietly.

“Yes.” Telemachus’s voice cracked. “He doesn’t even know the man I’ve become. He fought gods and monsters for us. And now everyone thinks he’s dead. If I let them say that, I—I lose hope too.”

The god stepped forward, crouching so their faces were level. His eyes—brilliant and ancient—studied the trembling prince.

“I don’t often do this,” Hermes murmured. “But I’ll tell you a secret.”

Telemachus blinked.

Hermes leaned close. “The thing no one tells you about gods is—we like it. When mortals beg.”

Telemachus stiffened.

Hermes grinned, soft and sharp. “Not because of power. That’s Zeus’s thing. But because we’re lonely, princeling. You kneel and pray, and for once, someone isn’t demanding. You’re offering.”

“I’m not offering much.”

“Oh, I think you offered plenty.”

Hermes’ hand brushed Telemachus’s chin, and the boy nearly reeled at the featherlight touch. Then Hermes stood, cocky again.

“Alright, alright. Enough divine vulnerability. You want your father? Fine. I’ll go nag Calypso. She’s got him holed up like a love-struck nymph.”

Telemachus gasped. “He’s alive?!”

“Very.” Hermes twirled his staff, spinning it into the crook of his arm. “And bored. I’ll get him moving again.”

The boy’s knees gave out with a soft gasp. “Thank you—thank you, thank you—”

Hermes whipped around. “Don’t kneel again! I already said yes!”

“But—”

Hermes pointed a warning finger. “If you say ‘good boy’ one more time, I will make you my personal shrine attendant for a decade.”

“…Is that a punishment?”

Hermes turned red.

Then disappeared.

A gust of wind.

A swirl of dust.

Silence.

And the faint sound of laughter from the sky.

---

Later, in Ogygia…

Odysseus sat beneath the laurel tree, eyes lost in clouds. Calypso stirred beside him, braid tangled with salt.

“I feel a wind coming,” she whispered.

He sat upright.

Hermes landed with a crash, wings disheveled, face flushed, and attitude aggrieved.

“Get. Up.”

Odysseus blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your son made me blush, Odysseus. He begged. He said he’d be a ‘good boy’. Do you understand what that does to a messenger god?!”

Odysseus stared. “…My son said what?”

Hermes grabbed his wrist. “Say goodbye to your sexy nymph. Ithaca is calling.”

Calypso sighed. “He could’ve written a letter.”

Hermes muttered, “He did. With his knees.”

---

⚠️ Plagiarism Warning:

This work is original and written by HAN ESPIRITU. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission. Plagiarizing or claiming this story as your own is strictly prohibited and will be reported.

[measureyourlifeincake]

just took an adhd assessment and... i honestly dont see how this will be sufficient for giving me a diagnosis? i just had to take two tests, one where i had to hit the space bar when hearing a high pitch after a low pitch (as opposed to after *just* hearing the high pitch), and one where a bunch of letters flashed on the screen and i had to hit the space bar when any of them except for x popped up and like... i don't see how this has anything to do with any of the issues i actually experience in my life due to my probable adhd???? like ok i guess it has something to do with focus? which is a part of the whole adhd thing but not all of it? i did take a (very brief) adhd questionnaire as one of my intake forms before seeing this psych for the first time but that wasn't part of the assessment itself but even that (which was only like. 15 questions? maybe?) seemed like it had more to do with how i experience adhd

[incinerator-deluxe]

do u guys think that maybe if i pray really really really hard God will give me free testosterone 4ever& ill never have to schedule one of these fuckass appointements ever again .bc i don’t think so (my understanding💡🧠&belief 🎇is that God is NOT ❌all-powerrful .just powerful in certaij ways most ly relateding to the humaj heart.& so No Free Testosterone 4 Jack .) but maybe if several other people think so Still Nothing Will Change .thatd be so aweeome though

[theworldlookswhite]

thinking abt the guy who checked me in last HRT apptmnt, who was very nice and professional and, more importantly, was overjoyed to see my cat after i asked him abt it

[bunnyboy-juice]

me [visibly tremoring, unable to finish a sentence without wincing, literally sobbed violently for half an hour last night waiting for pain meds to kick in] to my wife [trying to convince me to call out]: idk baby i just don't know if I'm in enough pain to justify taking off today /:

[gascoignes-homewrecker]

niice. Probably still a ''use at your own risk'' situation since the telemeds aren't taking responsibility for security and it's now ''your fault'' for *using the workaround. (Ahh, workarounds: This wasn't supposed to be in the body of the post, I was just pasting a tag in order to shorten it lol)

One thing that Firefox can’t do is allow me to access my telehealth therapy appointments. Three different platforms now have rejected my use of Firefox. I use Safari instead bc that’s what works and at least it isn’t chrome, but for folks who rightfully use Firefox, be aware that many, if not all, telehealth platforms will not work on Firefox (something about the encryption/security not being up to their standard, I believe; if there are hacks that Firefox gurus know to bypass this, please share with the class?).

[discombulatedwaffles]

So a lot of big chain optical companies like America's best, Stanton optical, LensCrafters, etc. Are switching or have switched to telemed eye exams.

Do not.

As someone who works for one of these places DO NOT schedule your eye exam without an actual doctor present

The exams are CONSISTENTLY inaccurate, they try to force people into progressives earlier than needed, and 9 times out of 10 the people doing the exams aren't even in the same country, which this isnt a xenophobic issue, there is a full on language barrier between the refractionists and the patients.

If the patient says anything off script from what they're "supposed" to, again the PATIENT, they're told their exam cannot be completed

Idk I just hate it here and wish we actually had a doctor to do these exams cuz this system ain't it

[hanespiritu]

THE TELEMACHUS SITUATION

(Hermes x Telemachus)

written by: Han Espiritu

---

The sun was barely beginning to radiate gold over the marble floors of Olympus when Hermes slammed the door to his own quarters, pacing like a frenzied animal.

“This is bad. This is really bad,” he muttered, yanking a fistful of his golden hair so hard it made his eyes water. His winged sandals thumped heavily against the floor, which should’ve been impossible—he was a god, a god, and yet the weight of this mortal disaster seemed to ground him like an anchor.

“This is so, so bad,” he repeated, voice rising a notch. “I have committed a cosmic offense. No. Worse. A poetic tragedy. A drama. An epic scandal—”

“Dude, what is it?”

Hermes whipped around so fast, he nearly tripped over his own feet. Leaning in his doorway was Apollo—radiant as ever, the early sunlight catching in his curls like divine fire, his golden eyes amused but cautious. He had his arms folded across his chest, and a single brow raised high on his forehead.

“I’m not in the mood for one of your cryptic breakdowns before ambrosia, Hermes. Just say it.”

Hermes blinked rapidly. Then he dropped his hand from his hair and opened his mouth.

“I kissed Odysseus’ son.”

Silence.

Apollo didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. It was like the words had taken a full five seconds to register in his mind. Then, slowly, like a tree creaking in a soft breeze, Apollo leaned his head against the doorframe and exhaled, “Woah.”

“I kissed him,” Hermes stressed again, pacing with even more panic now. “I don’t know why, I don’t do this, I—I think he liked it? He smiled after and then left. And I just—he’s Telemachus! He’s Odysseus’ kid! He was a baby the last time I saw him! A wailing, olive oil-covered infant!”

“Time moves fast for mortals, Hermes,” Apollo said dryly.

“Don’t be reasonable at me right now!” Hermes snapped, throwing a hand in the air. “You’re not allowed to be the reasonable one! That’s Athena’s job!”

Apollo stood up straighter, rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “So. Let me get this straight. You kissed Telemachus. He didn’t slap you, didn’t cry, didn’t stab you with a bronze spear.”

Hermes looked aghast. “No! He smiled! With those bright eyes! Like he knew exactly what he was doing to me!”

There was another pause. Apollo looked to the heavens with the dramatic expression of someone realizing something profoundly annoying.

“I owe Tiresias so much money,” he groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

Hermes stopped mid-pace, blinking. “What?”

“Tiresias. The prophet. Blind, snarky, loves riddles.”

“I know who Tiresias is, you solar twink! Why do you owe him money?!”

Apollo sighed as if he aged five hundred years in one moment. “We had a bet.”

Hermes narrowed his eyes. “You what.”

“Two years ago,” Apollo began, raising a finger in warning, “we were watching the lives of some mortals unfold—because boredom, obviously—and Tiresias said, ‘Your brother’s going to fall for Odysseus’ son.’ I told him, ‘Absolutely not. Hermes doesn’t fall—he seduces and dips. That’s his whole brand.’”

Hermes looked mortified. “You bet on me like I was some mortal soap opera subplot?!”

“All of Olympus bets on you like a soap opera subplot,” Apollo replied, rolling his eyes. “You’re like a tabloid in motion. We just watch to see when you’ll trip.”

“I never trip,” Hermes hissed.

Apollo gestured around them. “You kissed Telemachus.”

Hermes opened his mouth, closed it, and then rubbed both palms over his face like he could scrub the memory from his very soul. “He was just... there. He was smart, he was kind, and then he smiled at me like I hung the moon and—” he paused, then glared at Apollo. “Don’t say it.”

Apollo grinned. “But you don’t hang the moon. That’s Artemis.”

“GODS, APOLLO—!”

“Did he kiss you back?” Apollo asked casually, wandering into the room now. His tone had shifted—less mocking, more curious. Hermes flinched.

“Yes.”

“That’s adorable,” Apollo declared, throwing himself onto a nearby couch like the god of poetry and sunlight had nothing better to do than witness his brother’s romantic spiral.

Hermes stared at the wall for a long moment. Then he sat, his knees practically to his chest.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said quietly. “I just—he was speaking of his father, of how people remember Odysseus like he was a legend, not a man. Telemachus said, ‘I don’t want to be a story. I want to be real. I want someone to see me.’ And the way he looked at me, like I already did... I couldn’t stop myself.”

Apollo leaned back, silent. Then he whistled low. “And you think this is the worst part?”

Hermes glanced up, eyes narrowing. “You mean there’s more?!”

“You’re in love, brother.” Apollo gave him a shit-eating grin. “You’re screwed.”

“I don’t fall in love.”

“You kissed a mortal prince!”

Hermes let out a groan so loud it echoed. “I’m going to be exiled. Or worse. Mocked. You know how Athena feels about anyone touching her champion. And how Telemachus is literally the son of Poseidon's enemy.”

Apollo snorted. “Please. Poseidon is still busy crying over a broken trident and trying to win back Amphitrite with conch shell poems. He’ll live.”

Hermes stared at the ceiling. “What do I do?”

“Do what you always do,” Apollo said with a smirk. “Follow him.”

Hermes blinked. “What?”

“Follow him. Go to Ithaca. Disguise yourself. Stalk him a little—tastefully, of course. Find out if he feels the same. Earn the story this time.”

Hermes tilted his head. “You think this is a story?”

Apollo’s eyes glinted. “Every kiss is. Some are tragedies. Some are epics. And some, if you’re very lucky... are myths worth remembering.”

Hermes sat back, arms draped over his knees, and laughed—exhausted, tangled, hopelessly entwined in the chaos of it all.

“Apollo?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m still stealing your sun chariot next week.”

“Already factored that into my schedule.”

They sat in silence a little while longer. Then Hermes stood.

“I’m going to Ithaca.”

Apollo leaned back with a smile. “Good. Just remember to kiss him like the world ends tomorrow.”

Hermes paused at the door, wings twitching. “What if I already did?”

Apollo didn’t answer. But the smile that played across his lips said he already knew.

---

⚠️ Plagiarism Warning:

This work is original and written by HAN ESPIRITU. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission. Plagiarizing or claiming this story as your own is strictly prohibited and will be reported.

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

Polites: hey, what's your favourite thing about Penelope?

Odysseus on a bad day: idk her eyes I guess

Polites: cool cool I'm hosting an intervention

I like to think that Polites, and maybe the other men, would check up on Odysseus' mental state by talking about his wife lmao

he'll never waste a second to talk about her LMAO

[paintedbysinsofpast]

“WHATEVER GOD TURNED ME INTO A MAGICAL BOY. COUNT YOUR DAYS.”

[starfoam]

//nnnnGGGGGN

[officialzedwap]

D Bwoy Telem - Life ft. Yo Maps

Artist: D Bwoy Telem Featuring: Yo Maps Released: 2024 Duration: 04:15 D Bwoy Telem Releases his newly joint Called, ‘Life’ featuring Top-rated Zambian Singer and songwriter, Yo Maps. Renowned recording artist, D Bwoy Telem, introduces a brand new single titled “Life“. The single boasts of an incredible feature from Yo Maps, who delivered masterful verse that will leave the listeners in awe. The…

[zafstuff]

ORANG CHIGGEN

Experimental Painting Comm for Telem! It was very fun to work on I'm so glad I had free rein with this xD It's so goofy aaaaaa <3

Posted using PostyBirb

[bunnyboy-juice]

ough i wish resting/napping didnt make me feel like. That