Happy Birthday to Elris’ adorable main dancer, Lee Yukyung! I hope people treat you well and make you feel like the princess you are today! Congratulations on your many achievements this year, and thank you for being a part of Elris…Happy birthday Yukyung! 🎉💕
“You’re not Fallen, are you?” The question pops out of my mouth before my head can censor it. “From everything I’ve heard, that would just make me more sexy to you Daughters of Men.” He finishes taping the last bit of the blanket. “What is it that you all see in bad boys?” “I’m asking the questions here, Raffe. This is serious.”
The thing is, there are a million really good ways Bellamy could nearly get himself killed. Productive ways, like, dying a radiation soaked death while trying to save his friends from sporadic nuclear meltdown. Or, like, dying a bloody death at the hands of a wild boar on a hunting trip gone wrong. Less grandiose, but still broadly understandable. Really, the possibilities are endless. | Canon-verse. Hurt/Comfort. Just an excuse for Clarke to vocally appreciate Bellamy, because someone needs to do it.
Whoever this arsonist is, Clarke has to wonder if they’ve got something out for her in particular.
The loud, deep voice rings out as she turns away from a witness and back toward the house—kitchen now no longer on fire—to see her least favorite firefighter, cocky grin settled on his sweaty, unfairly handsome face. “Fancy seeing you here.”
She loathes him. |A Bellarke Firefighter/Detective, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers AU.
Clarke doesn’t really think about whether or not she’s ever touched Bellamy Blake, mostly because it’s weird. But also because they’re hardly even friends. He’s just the guy she sometimes works with at the library. His freckles are nice. |Based on a soulmates prompt where soul marks blossom at the place you first touch.
Clarke Griffin dreams about the same boy every night after her father’s death. He helps her through tough times and she returns the favor. There’s no way he’s real, right? | Another soulmates AU because that’s my entire aesthetic.
You hated how you had to wear shirts three times other girls sizes just so you could feel comfortable but then it would be very clear that you were bigger than others. You hated how your thighs flattened like large pancakes when you sat anywhere, how they chaffed so easily in shorts…
You watched as your friends experienced love all around you. Smiling and cheering them on for being happy while you silently knew you would never be loved because of your size.
But when your walking home one day you meet a mysterious guy asleep under front yard tree, hat covering his identity as the wind blew autumn leaves down over his body.