#so this is what I did this year!

[rystonlentil]

2023 Podfic Roundup!

(2022 here; 2021 here)

Ghost Town, by DustDragon39 The Magnus Archives original characters teen and up 18m 42s

I came home one day and it wasn’t home anymore. During a particularly bad storm, two archival assistants from the San Francisco Institute for the Unusual and Paranormal pick up a hitchhiker.

the less-than-careful years, by tigrrmilk Disco Elysium Kim Kitsuragi, Kim Kitsuragi’s parents teen and up 22m 5s

For his seventeenth birthday, Kim bought the first jacket as a gift to himself. It was the real thing — twenty years old, with a slash at the neck, and a stain inside that could have been blood, or mud, or even oil. “Did somebody die in that thing?” his aunt asked. A life, and memories of other lives. Hidden inside objects and matter and waves.

Reboot, by TheQuietWings Five Nights at Freddy’s Glamrock Freddy & Gregory, Michael Afton & The Crying Child general 15m 54s

Are you sure it is necessary to boot in [Safe Mode]? Y/N

Icicles (don’t soften when they die), by Taliax Deltarune Noelle Holiday/Susie teen and up 8m 47s

Sweat beaded on Susie's forehead as she brought the tip of her axe to Noelle’s finger. The ring dug in its thorns. Noelle and Susie's unseen conversation in the Weird Route.

Rot, by dearfriendicanfly Disco Elysium Kim Kitsuragi mature 15m 4s

INLAND EMPIRE — They opened him up and found nothing but the rot that ate up everything he was. And then they left the empty shell of him behind. VOLTA DO MAR [Challenging: Success] — Don’t think about that. Think of music shaking your ribcage. Think of a steering wheel under your palms. HALF LIGHT — Your red, red palms. Night one. Kim Kitsuragi has a nightmare.

Kitsuragi shuffle, by laughingpineapple Disco Elysium Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi general 30m 8s

A Saturday in Jamrock. See the sights. Blend in with the locals. Just a pleasant day out ahead of the transfer, with no hidden hopes, none whatsoever. Kim Kitsuragi doesn’t do hope.

let’s spend the future talking about the past, by godsontheradio Disco Elysium Klaasje Amandou/Ruby mature 11m 4s

Ruby helps an on-the-run Klaasje dye her hair. What happens next is frustrating and inconclusive.

La Muerte Pálida (The Pale Death), by Lepak Disco Elysium Paledriver, background Klaasje/Ruby teen and up 14m 52s

The world hides you in her fog skirts. You row until you can no longer see land, til even its shadow has been swallowed and you’re drifting alone, the last person left alive in Elysium. Or perhaps the first ever made, floating in a wooden womb, amniotic fluid dewing on your thin coat. The Paledriver reminisces.

Even Disco, Baby (12 one-shots), by dearfriendicanfly Disco Elysium Harry & Smoker on the Balcony, Harry/Kim Kitsuragi, Harry & Judit Minot, Cindy the Skull & Harry, Annette & Harry, Harry & Dora Ingerlund, Harry & Tommy Le Homme, Harry & La Revacholière teen and up 2hr 8m 15s in total

A collection of dialogue excerpts that needed a home. Originally posted to even-disco-baby on tumblr, archived here.

He’s A Goldmine, Baby, by Red Disco Elysium Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi explicit 41m 19s

Ok, so getting pissed on wasn't always a kink of yours. Now, however, it has definitely become a thing. Problem is, you don't know your mega-cool boyfriend will be down for it. No need to ruin a good thing. Best keep this to yourself, champ. On sex paperwork, ordinary life, love... and, well. Piss, of course.

Poems for my head’s country, by laughingpineapple Disco Elysium Harry Du Bois & Skills teen and up 6m 50s

Far away, the pale – le territoire, the great adversary, the western plain – roars into nothingness. Here and now, Harry finds a book in his apartment, a trace of his old life. Here and now, Harry finds a book in his apartment, a trace of his old life. Here and now, Harry finds a book-

Blood Like Wine, by Aria The Mechanisms Jonny d’Ville/Gunpowder Tim explicit 16m 35s

When Jonny said it, he didn't even really mean anything by it. He was running his mouth, paying more attention to the way it made Tim thrash under him than the words he was saying. Jonny leant forward, digging his fingernails into Tim's shoulder blades, and said, low and vicious, "I want to eat your heart."

Splat, by nevermindgrantaire Disco Elysium Cindy the Skull & Cunoesse teen and up 25m 43s

There’s a face, though, peering over the fence with eyes like scuttling black beetles. Topped with a matted thatch of red hair and a green knitted beanie hat. Red eyes and red nose, lines under the eyes that just don’t look right on a kid so young. It’s that girl- Cindy doesn’t know her name. The skinny little thing, all hunched and defensive, hackles raised. She clings to her friend like he’s a shield and normally she’s screaming slurs at anything that moves. It’s unnerving, seeing her quiet like this. Cindy casts an eye around the yard, towards the shed, looking for the girl’s persistent shadow. Cuno joins the RCM. Cunoesse gets left behind. Cindy wants to help.

A wreath of reeds, by laughingpineapple Disco Elysium Steban the Student Communist & Insulindian Phasmid teen and up 9m 27s

Steban, touch grass. Grass, touch Steban.

trial run, by Red Disco Elysium Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi explicit 34m 59s

Your mouth keeps moving. "You're so desperate, Kim. Trying to ride my fucked-up dick..." Kim coughs, and shoots you a look. "I thought my opinion on your dick was clear by now."

Possession, by Red Disco Elysium Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi explicit 14m 19s

"Disgusting," Kim breathes, smearing his thumb through his spit, rubbing it into your skin. Mine, that touch says. You close your eyes, dizzy, faint from his love.

A beast in the fog, by laughingpineapple Disco Elysium Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi teen and up 13m 23s

The lieutenant knows how to fend off the loneliness of the empty road. But the air is empty, too, and the coast is gone.

Delirium, by randomisedmongoose Disco Elysium Harry Du Bois mature 4m 50s

After the tribunal. Harry dreams.

Poem 53, by dearfriendicanfly Disco Elysium Harry Du Bois & Harry Du Bois general 5m 57s

From the collection “Poems For My Head’s Country.” Annotations by Harry Du Bois. (For/Inspired by laughingpineapple)

flight paths of migratory birds, by Ptolemia Disco Elysium Klaasje Amandou/Ruby mature 29m 45s

Ruby and Klaasje do take that road trip, after all.

The Orchard, by liesmyth Good Omens Aziraphale/Crowley mature 19m 22s

Crowley eats an apple, tempts an angel, and gets more than he bargained for.

Something Bigger Than The Sky (3/6 chapters), by Taliax Deltarune Spamton/Swatch teen and up 1hr 13m 46s

Swatch's purpose is to serve the Queen. Spamton's purpose is to make deals. By nature, any other passions between them are disposable. (Betrayal still hurts.)

do you have to call it a relationship?, by yewlojee The Murderbot Diaries Murderbot & Dr. Ratthi general 13m 51s

Ratthi stops at the closed door, and sends a message. I would like to talk about relationships. There is a pronounced pause. Is this some kind of reverse psychology shit where you are trying to get me to not talk to you actually?

an experiment in trust, by MercurialFeet The Murderbot Diaries ART & Three teen and up 22m 53s

Three decides it wants to try something. The Perihelion has a slightly more than scientific interest in the results.

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

I just wanna say bc I KNOW you're somewhere on tumblr, to the teenage girl who attended Take Your Kid To Work Day at an office building in Ontario, Canada circa 2013 and had a conversation with a middle aged woman in which you showed her your Black Veil Brides fanart and fanfics and ship content and told her about different fanfic tropes including a/b/o verse bc she happened to know who Panic! at The Disco and Fallout Boy were and thus you felt the need to show her your bandblr ship art, that was my fucking mother and I had to clarify all that to her including looking my mother in the eye and trying to explain a/b/o verse without sounding like a lunatic.

It's been 10 years and I still regularly sent evil energies in your direction. Since you'd be probably two years younger than me and thus legally an adult now, please know if this post reaches you it's on sight.

[nedlittle]

it drives me bonkers the way people don't know how to read classic books in context anymore. i just read a review of the picture of dorian gray that said "it pains me that the homosexual subtext is just that, a subtext, rather than a fully explored part of the narrative." and now i fully want to put my head through a table. first of all, we are so lucky in the 21st century to have an entire category of books that are able to loudly and lovingly declare their queerness that we've become blind to the idea that queerness can exist in a different language than our contemporary mode of communication. second it IS a fully explored part of the narrative! dorian gray IS a textually queer story, even removed from the context of its writing. it's the story of toxic queer relationships and attraction and dangerous scandals and the intertwining of late 19th century "uranianism" and misogyny. second of all, i'm sorry that oscar wilde didn't include 15k words of graphic gay sex with ao3-style tags in his 1890 novel that was literally used to convict him of indecent behaviour. get well soon, i guess...

[chiptrillino]

ID: Katara and sokka in swimgear. in the first image, sokka is searching for something in the water. his hair getting wet. katara leans over to him saying "don't you think, its time for a haircut?" in the second image sokka rose form the water, a dog-shark creature in hand, swinging his hair in Katara face splashing her. smugly he says "no <3". End ID

i know its winter! i know it likley snowed by now on the northern hemilsphere! but... on the southern side is summer time right??? so... its fine.... this is fine!!!

----

!!! please do not use or repost this artwork without permission!!!

[clown-owo]

been replaying the Portal series I think this is where its heading

[amnestyliketaz]

in honor of the nimona movie (it’s so good i’m gonna scream and cry for the next million years) i must share my favorite nimona art ever

drawn by ND stevenson ofc and posted on twitter a few years ago i believe

do i even have to SAY anything? the shark, it’s not rocket surgery, baby nimona, the DOMESTICITY of it all im gonna explode

UPDATE!!!! GAY DADS AU THREAD https://twitter.com/gingerhazing/status/1676058949504892928?s=46

[hayden-christensen]

It all started with a farmboy, a scoundrel, a princess, and a dark lord...

HAPPY STAR WARS DAY STAR WARS WEEK 2024 DAY 6: MAY THE 4TH BE WITH YOU

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

summer of junior year 06/11

[the-geeky-fangirl]

yes i know heartstopper is "cringe" and yes I know you think it's not that deep but you've endured years of cringe oversexualized shows about high schoolers where the gays are delegated to sub plots I'm sure a few hours of queer people being safe and happy and loved won't kill you so please shut the fuck up

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #5

Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.

After a moment, the door opens.

"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.

"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.

"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."

Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.

"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.

For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.

Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.

Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"

"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.

"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.

"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.

"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.

"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.

"He did," Jazz says.

Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.

Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.

A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.

This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.

Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.

In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.

"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.

Damian stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.

Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.

"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.

Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"

Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.

"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.

Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.

"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.

Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.

Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.

Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.

They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.

"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.

"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.

Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."

"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."

"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.

"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."

Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.

"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"

"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.

"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."

"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."

"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."

Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.

"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."

Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.

Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.

Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.

Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.

A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.

His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.

"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"

"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.

He never stopped practicing, after all.

"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."

"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."

Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.

"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.

"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."

"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."

Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.

"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."

"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."

Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."

"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."

For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.

"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."

"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.

He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.

Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."

Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."

Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."

"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."

Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."

"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.

"Even then."

Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.

"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.

"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.

But for his brother, Danny will wake up.

"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."

[hinamie]

yeah sorry theyre tragic in this au too

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[lilybug-02]

Eimmet High...temmiE high. OMG!

Part 28 || First || Previous || Next...

--Full Series--

Next update may take...much longer! I have finals and an internship and not to mention I have to draw- A LOT :')

[suiheisen]

you think YOU had a bad day at work?

bonus: sid shrieking "no!!!! NO!!!!!" loud enough to be heard in the stands and on camera

[ruporas]

the blank ticket in your hand is just waiting to be filled in.

happy birthday vash! (ID in alt text)

[mintjeru]

"but there is nothing more beautiful and terrifying than innocence."

open for better quality | no reposts