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“He would not fucking say that” except its the badly written source material so he did, in fact, say that

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"Pippin had liked [Boromir] from the first, admiring the great man's lordly but kindly manner."

My contribution towards @boromir-week Day 5, for the prompts "The People's Prince" and "Member of the Fellowship". I just wanted to highlight some moments that show Boromir's kindness, because I love him and his kind heart so, so much.

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the beach boys were right. it would be nice

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what i look like when im pacing around trying to figure out how to fix the plothole in my story

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yes its my plot but a wizard cursed it so i dont really know where its going. its a mystery because of the wizard i swear

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[talking shit about a guy] he could not earn the trust of a horse

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"just write a little every day" ok but what if i write nothing for 3 weeks and then suddenly type like i’m being hunted by god

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Chapter 10 - Time in a Bottle

Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character

AO3

excerpt:

It was the polish. It distracted her. It was all it’s fault, really, that her eyes found his’. And of course, he was already looking at her, because that was just her luck.

He was standing by a glass case, fingers gripped around a small silver trophy. His eyes were guarded, cautious – but also searching, greys shooting across her face.

And she couldn’t help it anymore. The thin thread of her remaining patience snapped and she had to say something.

“Stop looking at me like that!” Her voice echoed in the quiet room.

The words had the opposite effect, because Draco Malfoy lived on her nerves and loved to make her life hell. His stare became even more intense and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “I thought you wanted me to look at you?”

Motherfucker. He was not letting that go, was he? Despite her attempt to appear totally unaffected, her traitorous cheeks ran hot. “You’re still on that?” She said in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone as she screwed the polish bottle closed again.

“Why, of course. It was quite an interesting revelation.” He was fully grinning now, cocksure and honey-slow.

She slammed the bottle back down. “It wasn’t a revelation, I was just pissed that you were being such a coward!”

“Sure. If it makes you feel better to think that, go ahead.”

“I’m free to think that because I’m right!”

He put the goblet back in its place and ambled over to her, coming to a stop on the other side of the bench. 

I'M BACK BABY!!! and so are my insufferable idiots <3

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Write it shitty, write it scared, write it without a clue but don't you be so spineless and have an AI write fanfic for you.

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When a fic doesn’t fit my head canons but it’s well-written

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"why do you write?" because it’s the only way to silence the characters pacing around my brain like victorian ghosts with unresolved issues that prevent them from moving on.

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“you’re a writer, right?”

me, staring at the one sentence i’ve managed to add in the last hour and the 12 open tabs on the specifics of shoes in 1845 Ireland: In theory.

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me when the plot won't plot like it should

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