May 17th is the anniversary of the founding of the Organization for Transformative Works (OTW), the organization that owns and runs and fights for archiveofourown.org (AO3). So for the whole month of May, we want to celebrate with a multi-fandom, multi-creative, multi-media collection inspired by what the OTW/AO3 means to you.
Major themes include transformation, protection, creativity, & community - but really, the door is as wide open as your imagination.Want to write an AU where your fav characters are all fanfic writers discussing their blorbos? Maybe art about them being super-powered defenders of free speech? Pen a poem, scribble a songfic, or cross-stitch an OC - wherever your heart takes you - we want to see it all!
This is not a fandom-specific event! If you tag the Cake Shop with your fic (tagged in your post, please, with appropriate content warnings/ratings) we’ll reblog it! Let us show our appreciation to this bastion of free speech, creativity, and community.
Their piece was commissioned by follower on Instagram @shanxnoir for her story towers of silence.
it was fun and interesting to work with another range of brushes and again in the black and white palette, it adds a tension and drama that makes me want a warm blanket and hugs. her story is amazing and there is so much depth….please check out this beautiful work in development on ao3.
“If…” she breathes, her voice a pathetic whimper. “If you — if you hurt me, it’ll…hurt you too…”
That tongue traces its fangs again, eyes tightening like they’re zeroing in on a specific target. Her stomach. Her jugular. She can’t be sure.
-I dearly hope so. In fact, I long for it.-
A wash of cold spills through her, and the beast careens forward suddenly — a false lunge. Toying with her. When she gasps, that grin widens.
-Now run-“
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a fanart of a story that has me OBSESSED UPDATING PAGE AO3 EVERY DAY IN HOPE FOR A NEW CHAPTER. I initially had another sketch going on, with the central idea of a cover, but I totally hated it and preferred to start over from scratch. honestly i’m completely in love with what came out, dont look back is a masterpiece i didn’t know i needed, congratulations @onyx-and-elm for the TALENT
A “Special Edition” of The Rise of Skywalker using the TROS Extended Edition Novelization by Rae Carson with some changes from Hal 9000’s TROS Ascendant movie fan-edit, lore from supplementary materials, and a few minor additions of my own to create what I hope will be the best version of TROS possible. I give credit to both creators throughout, as I DO NOT claim this as an original work but more of a “fan-edit”.
When it’s discovered that the evil Emperor Palpatine did not die at the hands of the reformed Darth Vader, the rebels must race against the clock to find out his whereabouts. Finn and Poe lead the Resistance to put a stop to the First Order’s plans to form a new Empire, while Rey anticipates her inevitable confrontation with Kylo Ren.
It was rundown, the few other families that were there didn’t look as happy as they were supposed to be, rotten apples were just strewn across yellow grass where groundskeepers hadn’t bothered to pick them up, even the swing set which Connor and Zoe used to play on had turned orange with rust from age, and Connor doubted that it’d even be able to hold a child’s weight anymore.
The Murphy family were having a picnic at the orchard.
“I think we could all do with some reminisce of the glory days.” Cynthia had said when the family argued on what a terrible idea that was.
Connor had attempted suicide, nearly successfully too. That was why they were participating in this sad state of affairs, “family time.” He’d had it planned for months, the suicide, but finally worked up the bollocks to go through with it a couple of weeks ago. He took pills out of Larry’s medicine cabinet and fucked off to the park after a big fight about his hair.
His hair. Connor nearly killed himself because his dad disapproved of his hair. The one thing he felt like he had control over and it nearly made him loose everything.
Obviously it wasn’t just his hair that made Connor not want to live anymore, but it was what pushed him over the edge that day.
Now, however, saw Cynthia sitting on an old, threadbare, checkered picnic blanket on the rough ground. Larry was next to her, resting on his knees and a pitiful spread of food was laid out before them.
Zoe was laying down, Connor couldn’t tell if she was cloud watching or asleep.
And Connor? He was just sitting with his long legs stretched out, covered by the heavy fabric of his jeans even on such a hot day.
The silence was near unbearable. The only sound was that of the family on the other side of the field. Two parents and two young toddlers, a girl and a boy. Like the Murphy family had once been, hopeful and young and full of laughter.
There wasn’t much hope anymore. Hell, there was fuck all laughter either. And Connor hadn’t been young for a long time, his childhood was ripped from him by mental illness before he was done with it.
He hadn’t been done dressing up for Halloween. He hadn’t been done with getting excited over Christmas, waiting up till midnight with hot chocolate. He wasn’t done with Easter Egg Hunting or having birthday parties.
Connor wasn’t done with living, but by the time he realised this, he was too late and his brain had decided for him.
“Isn’t this nice?” Cynthia asked in a falsely sweet voice, “That family over there reminds me of you two. My God, you were so young.” She sighed and clutched at her heart, looking over at the family as if she could pretend her children were still babies and that her family was not falling apart at the seams.
“How is this nice?” Zoe asked quietly. Ah so she wasn’t asleep, Connor thought.
“Zoe.” Larry warned. Suddenly the whole mood shifted from a quiet, depressing silence to a heavy and tense atmosphere.
“So is this why you brought us here, Mum?” She asked, propping herself up on her elbows so she could really glare at her parents, “To relive the ‘glory days’ and pretend that your son didn’t just try to off himself?”
Connor didn’t dare steal a glance at Cynthia, he knew what her facial expression would be. Heartbreak and disappointment, the same damn expression she wore every day of this pitiful little life.
He could hear the tears welling up in his mother’s brown eyes, so much like her daughters when she next spoke, “Zoe sweetheart, please don’t bring up-“
“Bring up what?” Zoe said in a much louder, firmer voice. “The fact that Connor nearly died? Are we just going to come back to the last place where we were all fucking happy for once and that suddenly fixes everything? You’re not even talking about getting Connor help!”
“Connor doesn’t need-“ Larry began, but Zoe cut him off with a harsh, ironic laugh.
“You’re not going to get him into therapy then? For what? A reputation?” She asked mockingly, “You know what you’re doing?” She hissed, eyes glazed over in tears, “You’re killing my brother.” She punctuated each word with a swift punch to the ground, leaving quite an impressive dent in the yellow grass.
“No!” Larry yelled, standing up and glaring down at his daughter. “Connor is killing himself!”
Don’t get involved, Connor thought, you’ll only make it worse. Don’t get involved. Don’t get involved. Slam on the brakes. Don’t-
Connor stood up and rounded on Larry.
For a moment he questioned whether or not he should punch him square in the jaw. He could, it’d certainly be deserving and he’d had more than enough practise with his wall and other dickheads in the past.
Connor reeled his arm back, balled up his fists, narrowed his eyes and-
He couldn’t do it.
Instead, he did the next best thing. Dropping his arm down at his side, Connor starred his father right in the eye and hissed, “Fuck you.”
He jammed his fists into the pockets of his black hoodie and stormed off. He was a good distance away from the explosion he’d just created when he realised he was crying.
Connor liked to think he never cried and if you just saw him passing on the streets, you’d never peg him as the type of guy to cry himself to sleep every night. The tough persona was both a beautiful blessing and a painful curse.
But he did. Cry. At night. In the shower. About his depression, his family, the pressure of school, or something stupid like an advert on TV that reminded him of something.
And it always started out the same, a few tears cascading down his cheekbones like a great, unfinished symphony of a waterfall before the dam broke and soon he was gasping for air between sobs.
Connor was always an ugly crier, the sobs were loud and choking and were ripped out from his throat so violently he felt as if he’d lost all control. Tears flooded his blue/brown eyes before his vision got blurry and he couldn’t see where he was going but he didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to know. He just wanted to go. Far away. Away from Larry, away from the people are school who called him a freak, away from his fucking brain and it’s fucked up thoughts and it wasn’t fucking normal to be feeling this way!
Everything was heavy, putting one foot in front of the other was effort. He could feel the blood running through his veins and he wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like if he were to… to-
Stop.
Stop everything.
To die. What does it feel like to die? Some people call it ‘The Big Sleep’.
Would it be peaceful? Would it be loud? Would he be able to hear the voices in his head until the very end? Or would the threat of death scare them away? For good? Would they come back? Where? In heaven? In hell? Even if Connor believed in heaven and hell, which he didn’t, he knew he’d definitely be going to the latter.
He suddenly got the urge to lay on the ground. To lay on the soft, healthy grass now that he’d created a safe distance between himself and the orchard, and stare up at the sky. It was a light blue, a few clouds dotted here and there and then Connor was laughing. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t tell whether the tears were from his breakdown or his laughter.
God, it was ridiculous. Life is ridiculous. It’s like some cruel joke, he was so free lying on this grass but he’d never felt more trapped, more insignificant than he had lying on this grass, starring up at the sky, at the universe which had cleverly, oh so fucking cleverly, trapped us all.
And he was so caught up in his laughter that Connor didn’t hear the footsteps cautiously approaching him. He didn’t notice the figure hovering over him.
Until he did.
“H-Hi.” Someone stuttered and Connor was pulled out of his detachment to stand up properly and see who the fuck was talking to him now. It was a boy, around his age, short and blond with a blue polo shirt and brown khakis and a cast on his arm.
“Hi?” Connor asked, an eyebrow raised and he was probably being rude but did he care?
Maybe a bit.
“S-Sorry.” The boy began, “Its j-just you looked, um, well I saw y-you crying and-“
“I’m sorry,” Connor interrupted in the most unapologetic tone, “But who are you?”
“Evan Hansen.”
*****************
Hey guys, this is the first chapter to my Dear Evan Hansen Treebros fanfic ‘Firefly’ I really hope you like it and if you did there are 24 other chapters ((and more coming!!)) on my AO3 account @drac_hoe_no
All optics in the pavilion gawked at the sight of the champion gladiator who had materialized from the sky and was now drawing himself up to his full height in front of a smaller, red and blue plated bot.
He’s shorter than I expected, thought Megatronus. Amusement played across his faceplate as he watched the stunned archivist regain his composure. “Orion Pax, I presume.”
“Megatronus,” Orion broke into a delighted grin. “It’s so good to see you!”
“The pleasure is all mine.” Megatronus gave a little bow and made a gracious gesture with his arms. “Welcome to Kaon, my friend. Come - allow me to show you around.”
I don’t remember it’s name or the author but it was about Salem / Sabrina (Sabrina’s Secret Life), it was something about Salem become human and Sabrina getting very frustrated after being rejected by Harvey on a party so when she gets home she talk about it with Salem and they eventually make out. Anyway idc if i’m going to be “judged” by asking for this but please, if anyone knows a way for me to find it again (or if anyone has it saved) help me, i will be very grateful
