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Moony’s Fanmix Challenge


[1] an adjective
[2] a country / city / town
[3] a stereotype (hipsters, punks, nerds, whatever)
[4] a fictional character
[5] an instrument
[6] a historical event
[7] opposites (hot-cold, heroes-villains, love-hate ect.) (can be two mixes or one)
[8] a fairy tale
[9] something from nature (the sea, mountains, rain, plants, animals…)
[10] a hobby
[11] a fictional world
[12] foreign language (not english, choose one or many)

No rules. Just fun.



another one of my fic giveaway fics! this one is for alisonsbow, who requested: bellarke + fluff.

Hope you like it Raychie!

bellarke week category: fluff

what do you mean it’s July

Bellamy wakes up to silence.

It’s not unusual, of course, even if some days it still feels like it. It’s been months since they’ve landed on the ground, but sometimes he still expects the quiet humming of machinery all around him to fill in the blank areas of silence that fall when everyone stops talking for a minute.

Lately, though, with it being—by Clarke’s best estimate—nearly December, they’ve been encouraging what’s left of the hundred—Bellamy guesses there’s at least a good sixty left, but the fact that that means forty dead makes his chest ache and his throat close whenever he thinks about it (every day)—to wake up earlier so that they can at least work for the day in light, and be sleeping or at least in their tents when night and the real cold sets in.

It’s light outside, Bellamy can tell, and yet he can’t hear a thing.

Well, one thing. Jasper yelling.

Bellamy sighs and rubs at his eyes, getting up and grabbing his shirt in the process. He’s quick to put it and his jacket on, because while the ground has its—albeit, limited—good parts, he does not find the cold to be one of them. He refuses to admit how cold he usually is during the day, though. Clarke seems to thrive in the chilliness, and somehow he just knows she’d make fun of him for it.

When he gets outside his tent, he finds the reason for the silence. Covering the ground, and the drop ship, and the tents, is a layer of snow that has to be at least five inches. It’s a welcome change from the ash that still litters the place. It’s still coming down too, in large flakes that Bellamy just knows are sticking in his hair.

This is the first time Bellamy has ever seen snow. He’s read—at least briefly—about it, and sometimes managed to weave it into the stories he told Octavia at night, just because it seemed so magical. And it sort of is, if he’s being honest. He’s reminded of the days in the middle of summer they went through, where everyone was squinting and shading their eyes from the sun, because it’s just that bright. Glittering, too, and combine that with how still it’s seem to have made everything it fell on, and Bellamy finds himself smiling at it.

People are coming out of their tents now, probably drawn out by Jasper’s shout of excitement—he’s not in Bellamy’s line of vision anymore, but he vaguely suspects the younger boy is off building a fort or something equally childish and time consuming. He looks up from the snow in time to see Clarke come out of her own tent, directly across from his. She has a hand up to shade her eyes, but the wonder on her face is still obvious, at least to him. She grins up at the sky, and he just barely catches the sound of her faint laugh when one of the descending snowflakes falls onto the tip of her nose.

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ever wanted to do some stuff? like, different stuff? tired of having to scroll through your huge ref tag? LOOK NO FURTHER!! Have a masterpost of LITERALLY EVERYTHING which took me 5 hours to make so reblog it








Cheer up/Be happy





Mental health:

(Source: bakrua)

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