“She is truly one of the greatest actresses I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with. She acts like Adele sings. You just sit back and you think, damn, some people… She could just do it. She could just turn it on and it strikes emotion in you, like some people can just open their mouths and sing.” – Chris Pratt
I’d like to thank the wonderful @jen-iii from the bottom of my heart for creating the art you see above!
While we’re on the topic of thanks, thank you all for reading this blog for the past year and being consistently kind, supportive, and hilarious. I don’t have future vision like Garnet, but I hope that for the entire duration of my online career I never take for granted how lucky I am. Here’s to another great year!
Asking people not to riot is not discouraging from peaceful protesting. Rioting and protests are two completely different things. So cool down before getting a mad at Jen who is trying to stay positive and encouraging people to take action.
I just wanted to say hello from the abyss. I, like most other Americans (and probably lots of folks around the world), are mired in the daily abyss of fuckshit from our orange cheeto leader who is both incompetent and illiterate.
But I digress.
Life is…hard. And I’m tired all the time, and anxious way more than usual, and honestly just imminently awaiting our destruction.
Anywho, I’ve been working on some things, none of which are fandom related because I’m trying my best to reach my goals and make some personal dreams come true.
“Dreams are lovely. But they are just dreams–fleeting, ephemeral, pretty. But dreams do not come true just because you dream them. It’s hard work that makes things happen. It’s hard work that creates change.” -Shonda Rhimes
So, I’ve come to the decision, the very hard, sort of lonely decision, that I have to take a break from fanfic.
I hate it. I have so many Ginny x Mike things I want to write. I have a Professor/Student AU that’s plotted and planned that I’ve already started writing, but I realized something really crucial–I’m spending the majority of my time writing for fun (which I fucking love) when I need to be creating my own characters in my own worlds to get where I truly want to be. It’s not an easy decision, and frankly, it’s a decision that pulls me away from what I love, but I know, I KNOW if I prioritize what I should be doing, and I make my goals measurable and achievable, I’ll get them.
That means stepping away from creating fanworks. When pilot season is over, when the competitions have closed and I have more time in my writing life to devote to fandom works again, I may return. I love the exercise of writing that fanworks gives me, and I don’t want to lose that connection or wonder.
TMoaL will get finished, don’t worry, but I just wanted to let you all know what was going on.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart for letting me play in your garden–not a euphemism. Thank you for being kind, thank you for being encouraging, thank you for commenting, liking, and sharing, just thank you, Pitch fandom, for making this fandom experience so rich and powerful and wonderful. You can’t know how much you all mean to me.
In the meantime, all you beautiful fanfic writers out there–keep plugging away. This bleak and weary world needs your light and your words and incredible talent.
Bourbon Street. She hadn’t been here very long but it was quickly becoming her favourite place in all of New Orleans. The shops and venues provided enough foot traffic for her to all but fade into the background, the occasional musician passing through put a smile on her face and there was a plethora of souls to watch, asses and file away for later use. No rest for the wicked. The thought put a smile on her face.
She reclined in her chair, outside a small café, legs crossed and dressed in a tight pencil skirt and a blouse decorated with ruffles, her hair elegantly falling down to obscure part of her face. She brought her ice tea to her lips and took a small sip. Nothing interesting to pass by as of yet, though there was a rather enjoyable busker a little down the street who’s trumpet playing caught her interest.
She rhythm, as it so often does, got to her and her leg began to bob of it’s own accord, up and down. Her eyes closed and her head tipped back slightly, then she felt her foot connect with the leg a passing stranger. And while she wanted to kick them again for spoiling it, she lent forward, eyes opening wide and gushed.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry about that. I just got caught up in the trumpet playing over there. The music,” she shrugged, as though that explained it, “The voices in my head can’t get enough of it.” she added lamely, letting out a small laugh at her own joke.
ok, also, listen, you know how sometimes neil gets made fun of because he’s like “andrew is so short” but Neil is only 5′3? I amonly 5′3 as well; we’re not used to being taller than our peers. anytime someone is smaller than us it’s A Thing and pulls our focus