what. is. air

squint at where you’re from

oops sometimes you gotta

spoilers for 413, bellamy/clarke, 1600 words, gen. AO3!


Even though it’s not really the same as coming down in the first time, Bellamy still has this strange sense of deja vu as he looks at the door. The ship is smaller, he has fewer people with him, he feels both more and less sure of what he’ll find. They tried to hit the only spot of green they could see, but the controls are a mess, so he’s not sure they got to it. The whole fucking ship is a mess, built out of whatever scrap they could salvage. Even with six years to perfect it, the thing is still held together with spit and prayer, according to Raven.

But it got them to the ground. They’re back.

“Just open the fucking door!” says Raven, and Bellamy lets out a long breath and finally hits the release.

He knows what he’s hoping for: clean air, plants, blue sky. And he gets all of those.

He just also gets a girl, maybe ten or eleven, with brown hair in braids, pointing a gun at him. Which is honestly fairly encouraging; someone survived, and they have firearms. So she probably came out of the bunker.

He puts his hands up on reflex.

“Hey, uh–we come in peace,” he tries, and then says it again in Trig, for good measure. He doesn’t recognize her, but that doesn’t mean anything. She could be from another clan; there are plenty of them he doesn’t know. Or–his heart trips on the thought–she could be a nightblood. She could have survived because of that, and if she survived–

The girl pulls her gun back and looks at him critically. “Are you Bellamy Blake?”

He blinks a few times. “Um, yeah. I’m Bellamy Blake.”

“Really?”

She sounds skeptical, which doesn’t make any fucking sense. She’s the one who brought it up. There’s no reason for her not to believe him.

“Yeah, really. Did you come out of the bunker? Is my sister with you? Octavia?”

You’re Bellamy?” she says, like she didn’t hear him. She’s making a face like something smells odd. “I thought you’d be taller.”

Taller?” he asks.

Raven pokes her head out. “It’s been five minutes and you’re already being held at gunpoint? You sure have a way with people, Bellamy.”

“Look, we don’t want to hurt you,” he tells the girl. “Just–”

“I know,” she says. “You just want to see Clarke.”

Keep reading

Something in the air,
What’s wrong with the wind?
Tells me something’s changing,
Darkness becomes unpinned.

Something in the river,
What’s wrong with the flow?
Fishes jump for joy,
Ripples against my toes.

What is this I’m feeling,
Why don’t I feel afraid?
Grass here feels softer,
Everything has changed.

The breeze against your hair,
Can I trust you, do I dare?
The ocean in your eyes,
I think I’m happy I’m alive.

—  Maddie Preston // falling in love #12
BL Summer Bingo: Humidity

In the chat we talked about how Russian!Jack would deal with the humidity and heat of summer in America. 

Not well, is the answer.

(Featuring Jack’s pupper too!)


“My God,” Jack moaned, pressing the back of his hand against his sweaty forehead, “how do you live like this?”

“Well, first off, we don’t bitch and moan about it.” Rhys replied tersely from his perch on the couch, where he was busy twisting a vanilla and strawberry popsicle deftly between his bright pink lips. He was dressed lightly, in a pair of navy shorts and a breezy white dress shirt. His legs were bent under him as he lazily sucked on his popsicle, and the sight would have been arousing to Jack if not for the sweltering heat that was consuming him.

What a day for the air conditioner in Rhys’ fancy apartment to break.

“Why is….is the air like soup?” Jack groaned from his position on the floor. He looked positively unkempt, so far from his usual prime and polished appearance as Rhys’ bodyguard. His hair was wet with sweat, dark strands plastered against his forehead as sweat dripped down his tan skin, running uncomfortably all the way down his neck and to his exposed chest. He’d shed the thick charcoal suit he had been wearing and completely unbuttoned his stiff dress shirt, revealing his soaked undershirt and the necklace of interlocking gold rings hung low around his neck. Still he was suffering in the shimmering hot air that seemed to swarm all around him, and only his shred of dignity preventing him from stripping completely down to his boxers.

“That’s just how New York is in the summer. The real question is why don’t you own any clothes other than suits and jackets?” Rhys snarked from his position on the couch, hair moving lightly in the breeze from the small fan he had blowing directly on him. Sadly even the fan was little comfort to Jack, who merely slid further, back sticking to the hardwood floors, sweaty skin fogging up the glossy finish.

“I didn’t….I didn’t think it would get this hot,” Jack complained, scrunching up his face when his dog came clattering back into the living room, licking her muzzle clean of water from her dish. The black borzoi nuzzled her owner’s cheek affectionately, lapping at his sweaty face.  

“Angel….нет, Фу!” Jack growled, grimacing as he eased her away. Usually he welcomed affection from his pet but the last thing he wanted right now was warm, humid tongue rubbing up against his skin. Angel whined, before turning and hopping up on the couch with Rhys and snuggling up to the omega’s flank.

“You’re so mean.” Rhys pouts, wrapping his arms around Angel and snuggling her close, letting her lick his face and bump her snout against his jawline.

“She is warm. I need to be less warm.” Jack moaned, rubbing his temples. Rhys frowned, petting Angel’s flank as he tilted his chin to the side.

“Mmmm, well, if you don’t  mind swimming in your boxers, we could go out to the pool.” Rhys’ smiled perked up at the edges at the idea of his handsome bodyguard standing shirtless besides his magnificent pool. The omega himself, of course, relaxing in a comfortable chaise lounge, his thighs squeezed just right by his blue spandex briefs. A margarita in his hand, sunglasses inched down to get an eyeful of his alpha’s sculpted ass? Yum.

“As long as it is cool I will do anything.” Jack groused as he slowly sat up, his skin making a big show of peeling away from the sweaty hardwood. Rhys sucked off the last of his popsicle, eager as he hopped to his feet and ran off to change into a new swimsuit he’d bought a few days ago, already mentally noting to buy Jack an equally sexy pair to match.

New York summers weren’t exactly known for their mercy. Jack would have a lot of time to show his new suit off.

irishfino  asked:

grabbed a screenshot of the save the date and it looks like it said november 18th or the 28th. the 28th would be a tuesday, but i don't know what their airing schedule'll be next season

Oh, nice! It’s probably the 28th then, and November is plenty of time for them to plan a wedding. I think I’m going to headcanon that Iris is still planning the wedding when she’s home because she refuses to believe that Barry isn’t coming back to her, so she doesn’t cancel the date, and Cisco helps her with the wedding planning because it keeps him from focusing too much on Barry being gone. This is the PERFECT opportunity to give us some good Irisco.

2

I FOUND IT YALL I FOUND IT!!! THE HOLY GRALE THAT WAS MISSING!! 😱😱😱😱😭😭😭😭😍😍😍😍🔥🔥🔥🔥😲😲😲😲

RIP ME RIP EVERYONE…I AM YELLING😭😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖


IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR ME I AM FUCKING DECEASED BYE FOREVER 😲🔥😭🙈😱😩

4

a couple of many pieces i want to draw to show my love of the orbiting human circus (of the air)…if you haven’t started listening yet, season one just finished up recently! it really sings to my heart, i can’t recommend it enough

9

forever bitter that kingsglaive gave us this guy then took him away from us

Note for USAians who have access to the Starz apps

Starz releases its shows for users of the apps at midnight on the day of airing.

Basically, you’ll get American Gods 21 hours before it airs on the cable channel. 

Use this information wisely.