Bisuzukki - Jess

i reread isn't this the vision that you wanted over the past few days and have just been thinking about firelord crop top

Me: * faces even a tiny bit of inconvenience*

Me: Guess it's time to drop everything and go read fanfics. I don't make the rules. It is how it is.

Me: *proceeds to read for 4 hours straight*

favorite part of tbr is when zuko said “is this a habit of yours? falling off of stuff?” and sokka said “only if you’re there to catch me”

The end of ep 11 except Joe doesn’t stop Adam and Langa is.. less polite

∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I’m rewatching her private life and Ryan Gold really is one of the best male leads I’ve ever seen. The first few episodes are just him being like “I must protect my lesbian employee and her lover at all cost” and I love him for that

aang: youre in his dms, im the reincarnated embodiment of an ancient spiritual force he and his sister broke out of an iceburg. we are not the same

Keep reading

Bestie, I need MORE

I wrote a very short thing i don’t hate that isn’t specific to any character, i just liked the concept of the scene and started writing. what do y’all think? It’s meant to have enemies to lovers vibes

The blade sat beneath your chin, the tip pricking your skin until a bead of blood formed. It dripped down the expanse of bare skin of your neck, traveling along your clavicle and mixing in with the sweat slicking your skin. Your clothes stuck to your skin, hands trembled on the rough concrete.

"Yield," he murmured.

His chest rose and fell at a pace that contrasted yours. His slow and steady. Yours like your pounding heart, searching for a moment to breathe. To let your guard down. But that was how you'd gotten into this scenario.

"I'm to be killed anyway," you huffed, voice strained. "Feel free to claim the bounty as your own."

The blade wavered. A blade that never wavered. That had struck down contract upon contract. It hesitated.

"You ran." His words were not of the wind. They were like stakes being hammered into the ground. The flat of the tool smacking into your chest with each word. "You have nowhere to go. Left to fend for yourself with nothing. No weapon, no plan, no hope. But you ran. Are you an optimist or a horrible coward trying to outrun death?"

"Perhaps both." You forced yourself to meet his gaze. "Forgive a person for fearing death."

"What's there to fear when you have nothing left to lose?" He pressed the blade harder. You winced, eyes closed, a tear sneaking down your cheek.

"What isn't there when there's so much left to gain?"

A glance at his face showed a mask. A well-practiced one that took years upon years to perfect. Hardened by death and torment. And it slipped. Barely. Just enough to see the human beneath the myth. Beneath the mercenary who'd taken up the mantle of Death.

You'd fought him—someone who stood no chance against his combat expertise. And you'd lost. Unequivocally so. Yet you weren't begging. You weren't yielding. You held your ground even as the fear seeped from you like water from a cloth. Like the blood his blade drew from your neck, from many necks.

Terrified yet fearless. Brave yet unsure. Lost but determined. So similar to someone who'd long been gone. It twisted a wound deep beneath scarred tissue. Jerked something so deep and buried it shook him. Uncomfortably so.

He lowered his blade.

"If you're going on the run, you really ought to have a plan. And the bare minimum combat skills."

Your brows pinched. Face morphed into disbelief.

"You're not going to kill me?"

"No." He stepped back. Cocked an uninterested brow. "I'm going to do the opposite. Get up."

A second of hesitation before you stood on shaky legs. You waited, in case it was a trick. A false hope before striking you down. But he just looked over his shoulder and scoffed.

"Come. Let's turn you into the survivor you wish to be."

To any fic writers who worry they are wasting their time... I read a fic for a relatively small and inactive fandom about three years ago. And there was one specific scene where a character watched another dancing like an idiot to a beyonce song and it was so sweet and loving that even now years later I have that song on one of my spotify playlist so every once in a while it will play and remind me of that fic, and every time it does I smile and feel a little happier.

The stats on a fic will never really tell you if your writing touched someone. There's no numerical way to show you what impact you made. Maybe you are wasting time, or maybe you are writing something that someone will remember for a long time, something that will never fail to make them smile.

Reblog if you think fanfiction is a legitimate form of creative writing.