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[181patheticpaperclips]

Aftermath (odypen fanfic)

TW: mentioned SA and (according to my friend) slightly (and I mean SLIGHTLY) suggestive

[I was pretty proud of this one so I wanted to share :D]

[credit to @dootznbootz for the Water Wife™ headcanon]

The palace halls were deserted this time of night. The two lovers had taken an evening stroll — more like midnight stroll — and were still drenched from the creek. It wasn’t her fault, she insisted — Odysseus started it. Had he never smugly commented about his “godlike looks,” Penelope might have not used her naiad powers and they both would probably still be dry. But no.

That lovable little bighead, she thought to herself, smiling.

“What is it?” he asked from beside her. She snapped out of her thoughts and glanced at him — then, seeing his cocky grin, looked back down. Her cheeks felt hot.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how embarrassed you looked after the creek incident.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

“Quit arguing like a child,” she chuckled.

He pretended to pout, softening his expression like a little pup as he always did to persuade her.

“Don’t make that face at me.”

His grin returned, wider this time. “Why not? Too gorgeous for you?”

She stopped walking and playfully shoved his shoulder into the nearest pillar. Before she could say anything else, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. For a second, they stayed there, looking into each other’s eyes, barely able to breathe.

She eyed his lips. He eyed hers. She inched her face closer, almost closing the gap between them —

“Wait.”

Confused, she pulled back. “What?”

Odysseus was trembling. His breathing was shallow and uneven, his skin pale. “I just … I can’t.”

“Why not?” Penelope’s brows furrowed. “Odysseus, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond. His chest was heaving, his eyes flicking wildly from one spot to another — looking at everything but her. And he wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Odysseus. Ody, look at me.”

He did, but his eyes were wild.

“You can tell me if something’s bothering you. Did I do something? Say something?”

“No — no, I …” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“It’s okay, Ody. You can tell me.”

“Ca — ” his breath hitched. “Calypso,” he breathed, barely audible.

“What — ” Suddenly, Penelope understood. She’d heard that word before. Calypso wasn’t a what.

She was a who.

“Another woman?” Penelope took a step back. “Is that what this is about?”

No response. Just more ragged breathing.

“Answer me, Odysseus,” she spat angrily. “Who is this woman you slept with? Why did you choose her over me?”

His eyes widened more, suddenly flicking up to meet hers. “No! No, it’s not like that. She — ”

“What’s going on, Odysseus? What else haven’t you told me? What else are you hiding?”

“Penelope, listen — ” He paused, choking a little as tears formed in his eyes. “I tried to stop her but she — ” Suddenly, he dissolved in tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Oh.

Penelope’s heart dropped. He didn’t choose Calypso over her — no, the reality was much worse.

She stepped closer again. “Ody, it’s okay — ”

“No. No, it’s not. I’m sorry.”

Reaching out to touch his face, she repeated, “It’s okay — ”

But he jumped away from her hand like it was the point of a sword.

“Don’t touch me.”

She froze, realizing why he said that. “I’m sorry, Ody — ”

His expression softened. “No. I’m sorry. I — ” his voice caught in his throat as his eyes widened again.

“I have to go,” he said, slowly backing away.

“Odysseus — ”

“I’m so sorry.”

And he turned and sprinted away.

•••

“Odysseus? Ody, where are you? Odysseus!”

Penelope ran through the halls, almost tripping and cursing at her dress for being so long. She called her husband’s name over and over again, worry blossoming in her heart like a poisonous flower.

She checked the gardens. Nothing.

She checked the main hall. Nobody in sight.

She checked the courtyard. Completely empty.

Where was he?

Realization struck her — there was only one place left.

Panting, she knocked on the bedroom door. “Ody? Ody, it’s me, are you in there?”

No response. She was about to knock again but then —

Sniffle.

Her heart felt like it had been ripped into pieces. Just that one sound made her knees feel week. Odysseus was crying — because of her. Because she decided to do the one thing that made him uncomfortable — touch him.

Although, she thought, Odysseus had never acted like this before. If anything, they both loved curling up on that wedding bed of theirs and losing themselves in love. It made them feel … intertwined. Not just their limbs. But their hearts. Their souls. Like two olive bushes — one tame, one wild — growing from the same stem with their branches wound together so tightly that nothing, not even the wind or rain, could pass through.

Now, it felt as if someone was hacking at the wild branch with an axe, trying to cut him off from his stem and pry him away against his will. That someone was Calypso.

Or maybe — Penelope dreadfully thought — it was herself.

Either way, she could not let him feel like that any longer. She opened the door, stepping inside.

“Ody?”

Another sniffle.

She gently closed the door, then followed the sound to behind the bed. Curled up in a corner was the king of Ithaca — shaking, sobbing, choking on his breath with his head against the wall and knees tucked into his chest.

“Odysseus.”

A pained groan escaped his throat as he winced. His eyes were shut tight, his skin dripping with sweat and tears.

Her gut twisted. What was happening to him? “Odysseus. Ody, wake up. Please.”

“Enough, goddess,” he croaked quietly. “Please.”

“What — Odysseus, it’s me —”

“No!” His body twitched as if someone had sent a bolt of lightning through him. His brows furrowed in pain. “You’ve — you’ve hurt me enough. No more — no more games. Please, I beg of you.”

“Odysseus! Please! Wake up!” she cried, crouching down and desperately taking his face in her hands. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, clouding her vision. What must he have gone through to get this upset?

His eyes still squeezed shut, he jumped away from her touch. “Get away from me!” he yelled. “Please — leave me alone. Let me — let me have one peaceful night. One. Please —”

“ODYSSEUS, IT’S ME! It’s Penelope! You’re home, remember? You’re safe. Please, come back to me.” She choked, the tears flowing freely down her face now.

His eyes flew open as he jolted awake. At the sight of her, his breath hitched. “Penelope,” he whispered. “It’s you.”

She nodded, smiling through her tears. “Yes, my love. It’s me. You’re home.”

For a second, he was silent, taking in everything about her — her face, her electric blue eyes, now overflowing with tears. She held his gaze, watching him realize that this was Penelope — his loving wife. She’d never hurt him. Never.

Suddenly, he threw his arms around her, dissolving in tears again. She hugged him back, her fingers combing his sweat-soaked hair as sobs racked his body. She fought the urge to cry with him, knowing that she had to be strong for the both of them if she wanted to help him.

“It’s okay,” she whispered into his ear over and over again until he had somewhat calmed down. “You’re okay.”

He waited until the tears stopped flowing, then let go and met her gaze again. “I’m sorry.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Penelope.”

“No, I’m sorry. I made you uncomfortable. I won’t touch you anymore —”

“No!” he exclaimed. “No, please do.” His eyes glinted with longing. “Twenty years I have been starved of your touch. I can’t hold back any longer. I just — it’ll take some time for — for me to get used to it.”

“Take your time, my love. I’ll be right here by your side.”

He nodded, biting his lip as his eyes moistened again. Burying his face into her shoulder, he sat with her in silence.

After a moment, Penelope spoke. “If you ever want to talk about it —”

He shuddered.

“You don’t have to,” she stammered. “Talk about it, I mean. I know it’s hard. I know you’re hurt. But if you do —”

“No, I do. Just — give me a second.”

“Take your time,” she repeated.

A few seconds passed as he steadied his emotions. Separating himself from the embrace, he took a deep breath. He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“It wasn’t just Calypso. Before that … Circe.”

Oh, gods. Penelope felt dizzy.

“But at least I got something out of that. Hermes told me that for her to release my men, I — I had to allow myself into her bed. So I did, reluctantly.” His voice cracked. “It worked. She released my men and sent us on our way to the Underworld. I thought that would be the last of it.”

Penelope started to take his hand in hers, then stopped herself. But Odysseus looked down, then took her hand instead. She smiled at him comfortingly.

“Calypso was a different story.” He swallowed. “After my ship was struck down by Zeus, I washed up on an island. She greeted me, appearing kind at first. She gave me shelter, food, clothing, and company. One day, I told her that I must be on my way. But she —” He hesitated. “She had different plans. ‘I gave you everything I could. It’s time you repay me.’ I agreed. ‘Anything, goddess.’” He paused. “I wish I had known what she had meant.” His voice cracked again as he finally met Penelope’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

She shook her head.

“I'm just a man, Penelope. A mortal. I was no match against this goddess. I’m so sorry. Every night, no matter how hard I resisted, she’d — she'd force me into her bed; every night after … her, I’d lie awake thinking of you — of how I betrayed you, even when you were waiting for me for all these years —” He choked, letting out another sob.

She wrapped her arms around him again as he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t, Ody.”

Silence fell again between the two as he composed himself. Penelope spoke again — “This happened … every night?” she whispered.

He slowly nodded into her shoulder.

“For how long?”

No response.

“Ody —”

“Eight years.”

Gods.

Now tears fell from her eyes too as his fingers dug into her back, desperately grasping for her affection. The realization that this — being forced to betray his beloved; not the monsters, the gods, or anything else he faced — was the worst he could have ever suffered.

For eight years. Penelope felt sick.

“I’m so sorry,” he kept saying, but she only shook her head.

Her heart shattered. None of this was his fault; why was he apologizing? And this was nothing like the Odysseus she knew. Odysseus was a hero — strong, brave, and cunning. No, this was … broken. A man who had been through far more than he let on; far more than he deserved.

Even heroes need to be consoled sometimes, she figured.

They sat like that for a while, taking comfort in each other. When they finally parted, they both felt different — healed.

All that was in the past now. They had each other now, as they always would. They were safe. They were home.

They were together. And that’s what mattered.

“Penelope?” Odysseus asked.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

She only smiled.

That night, the two of them fell asleep in each other’s arms — the two olive bushes, intertwined again at last.

Never to be separated again.

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Odysseus: and that's the thing, you know? I cannot explain it but there's... a connection beyond words. It's not like neither would give any physical cues as one would expect, yet we know what the other is thinking. Or maybe we just think alike? Its-

Diomedes: Nestor saw me sleeping and he kicked me. Again. It wasn't even my watch, he just kicked me.

Odysseus: the first time it happened was at our wedding. Our wedding! We barely knew each other then, still we both knew what everyone was wondering: would we stay in Sparta or move to Ithaca?

Diomedes: I revere him as much as anyone here, but I think I'm becoming resentful.

Odysseus: she didn't make a big show of it, she just covered her face with her veil... I can't do it like her, it's like this with her hand, she does it better. And I felt so happy! I didn't say a word, anyway, because I thought a proper husband should look aloof. But I think she did like Ithaca, from the beginning. I would know if she didn't, right?

Diomedes: Do you think there's any cheese left in this encampment? That would really cheer me up.

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3 professors forced to share a hotel room during a travel to a wizard expo ... due to budget cut because Hogwarts have sustained yet another annual Voldemort-related disaster( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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"Odysseus when you come home, I'll be waiting. Even if you're the last thing I see, I'll be waiting."

"I'm right here, Mom. Can't you see I'm waiting? ...I took too long."

Jay, come here a second. I would like to have a word about why I'm silently bawling my eyes out at 1am because of Anticlea saying she will always love her son whom she died waiting for.

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Victoria Frankenstein 🫀

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“I bet on losing dogs,

I know they’re losing and I pay for my place

By the ring,

Where I’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down,

I’ll be there on their side,

I’m losing by their side.” - I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski 💖

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Okay… so we all love “The Two-Headed Calf” by Laura Gilpin, but here are some of her other poems that I think deserve some recognition

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I'm ignoring my numbers

P - pluto (sleeping at last) A - angela (the lumineers) T - the lament of eustace scrubb (the oh hellos) H - how to be yours (chris renzema) E - eternity (fly by night musical) T - this december (ricky montgomery) I - i bet on losing dogs (mitski) C - cleopatra (the lumineers) P - puddleglum's anthem (sarah sparks) A - aawake at night (half alive) P - penny lane (the beatles) E - earth (sleeping at last) R - riptide (vance joy) C - cecily smith (fly by night musical) L - lucy in the sky with diamonds (the beatles) I - i am barabbas (josiah queen) P - pour down (the ballroom theives) S - summerland (half alive)

i did not realise how many letters i had until now. and i definitely don't know 18 people to tag but here goes

@ilovemycatmorethanitlovesme @ichangenameseveryfiveseconds @a-marble @lilajeanbasener @mershellscape @my-beloved-fandoms @starrydahlias @adler-the-reaper @spooky-something @blacksheep-vile @prodigiosa

have fun

Put a song for every letter in your url and tag the amount of people in your url !

Strawberry Blonde by Mitski

The Prettiest Star by David Bowie

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

Rue des trois frères by Fabrizio Paterlini

My Body’s Made of Crushed Little Stars by Mitski

Astronomy by Conan Gray

Nobody by Mitski

Baby Hotline by Jack Stauber’s Micropop

Ultraviolence by Lana Del Ray

Take Me to Church by Hozier

Inertia by AJR

Taking Whats Not Yours by TV Girl

Song About Me by TV Girl

Real Men by Mitski

Eleanor Rigby by Cody Fry

Gloom by Djo

Under Pressure by Queen, David Bowie

Last Words of a Shooting Star by Mitski

United in Grief by Kendrick Lamar

Snap Out of It by Arctic Monkeys

Bourgeoisieses by Conan Gray

Lonley Dancers by Conan Gray

Arabella by Arctic Monkeys

Cigarettes Out the Window by TV Girl

Knee Socks by Arctic Monkeys

this took so fucking long omg

@dandelionflowery @themortalityofundyingstars @pretentious-media @totalcharliespringsimp @absolutelyflabbergasted

@marylily-my-beloved @maeve-occasionally-reads @aestheic-writer18 @nonbinary-wyvern @justafrogghost

@moonyrab @chaserofstars11 @musicoftheheart @icarus-last-fall @saturnsconstellation

@hizzi3spotter @myfavcharacterdidntdrown @lionmythflower @silverameco @my-castles-crumbling

@whyistarchaser @jamespotterbbg @capay9267 @unaesthetic-writer @biblically-accurate-chaos

(i didnt think i knew 25 people but here we are🤷)

[181patheticpaperclips]

Surprisingly, this is not a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy reference, but an actual fact. From Burnout: Solve Your Stress Cycle, by Emily and Amelia Nagoski

Edit: Here is the full text from the image and the end of the sentence that’s missing:

[Forty-Two Percent

So how much rest is “adequate”?

Science says: 42 percent.

That’s the percentage of time your body and brain need you to spend resting. It’s about ten hours out of every twenty-four. It doesn’t have to be every day; it can average out over a week or a month or more. But yeah. That much.

“That’s ridiculous! I don’t have that kind of time!” you might protest - and we remind you that we predicted you might feel that way, back at the start of the chapter.

We’re not saying you should take 42 percent of your time to rest; we’re saying if you don’t take the 42 percent, the 42 percent will take you. It will grab you by the face, shove you to the ground, put its foot on your chest, and declare itself the victor.]

Note: This refers to rest in general, not specifically to sleep. These are average figures; individual circumstances will vary.

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Weiner dog wearing armor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival (2002)

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Great eared nightjar

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You guys do know you're supposed to reblog things, right

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Humans are adorable.

Supporting evidence:

1. Humans say ‘ow’, even if they haven’t actually been hurt. It’s just a thing they say when they think they might have been hurt, but aren’t sure yet.

2. Humans collect shiny things and decorate their bodies and nests with them. The shinier the better, although each individual has a unique taste for style and colouring

3. Humans are not an aquatic or even amphibious species, but they flock to bodies of water simply to play in it. They can’t even hold their breath all that long; they just love to splash!

4. When night falls and the sky goes dark, humans become drowsy and begin to cocoon themselves in soft, fluffy bedding.

5. Some humans spend time in each other’s nests! Just for fun! It’s not their nest; they’re just visiting each other.

6. Some humans use pigments and dyes to make their bodies flashy and colourful! They even attach shiny dangly bits to their cartalidgous membranes!

7. Humans are very clever, and sometimes adopt creatures from other species into their family units. They don’t seem to notice the obvious differences, and often raise them alongside their own young!

8. If a human sees another creature in distress, they can commonly be observed trying to help! Even at their own risk, most humans are deeply compassionate creatures!

9. If a human hears a particularity catchy sound or tune, it will often mimic it, even to the point of annoying themselves!

10. Sneezes are entirely involuntary, and completely adorable. Especially when the human in question becomes frustrated

11. Humans love treats!!! Some more than others. Many humans will save these treats specifically for a later date when they are in need of comfort or reassurance. IE, pickles, pop tarts, Popsicles, etc

12. They’re learning to travel in space!!! They can’t get very far, but they’re trying!!! So far, they’ve made it to the end of their yard, and have found rocks

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I love when mutuals and followers use my blog as their dash

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apologies I accidentally used your blog as my dash

to quote the ancient wisdom of the elder days,

go ahead, my blog is yours.

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do you ever get emotional about how the writer of Psalm 88 almost certainly meant these verses as rhetorical questions:

“Will You work wonders for the dead? Shall the dead arise and praise You? Shall Your lovingkindness be declared in the grave? Or Your faithfulness in the place of destruction? Shall Your wonders be known in the dark? And Your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?”

and Jesus said yes.

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The best piece of advice I ever got was not meant as advice, but as an edict. If I was going to threaten people as a joke, it had to be so far out of proportion with what happened that it would be obvious I was joking. This changed how I expressed frustration with others. It then changed how I expressed frustration with myself.

Not “I’m going to hit you” but “I am going to buy a tuna sub from the gas station and hide it under the seat of your car”

Not “I’m going to kill myself” but “I am going to walk into the desert and let the scarabs take me”

The other side then happened. When I mess something up, instead of saying it’s bad and perpetuating negative thoughts, swing hard the other way.

Not “this art is terrible” but “this shall be framed and mounted on the wall in my museum exhibition as testament to the suffering I had to overcome”

Have been doing this since high school. It was my drama teacher who asked me to please stop scaring the actors. The other half of the edict was that I had to say it in a polite tone, and end it with either please or thank you.

Life changing. 10/10 Mr Muëller. Highly reccomend.