#laura writes bellarke

[welllpthisishappening]

Clarke Griffin is not a violent person, by nature. The Hippocratic Oath frowns on that sort of thing. Only, well—it’s hockey. So, it feels sort of outside the realms of natural law and ancient oaths and the guy sitting next to her is a grade-A jerk. Which means it’s only reasonable to do what she does. Defends her boyfriend’s on-ice honor. 

Words: just under 2k Rating: fluff Part of Connecting on the Wraparound, my The 100 Rangers AU

I have done the thing! Written words! Not a lot of words, but words all the same! This is very exciting news! A few days ago, I reblogged this post and asked for numbers and some very nice people — including @NORTHERNSHIRO who asked for No. 4 — sent numbers and now I’ve written this! If you want to send more numbers so I will write more words, feel free. I think you’re all delightful. 

“I’m here, aren’t I? Like, I’m physically standing right here?”

Glancing around with enough force to make several things in her neck crack, Clarke somehow manages to keep her hands plastered to her side—but only just. Her fingers itch to bunch, to shake wildly in the air directly surrounding her for no less than seventeen straight seconds. And, well, maybe, if she possibly elbows the jersey-wearing bastard with an accent that sounds eerily similar to John Travolta’s in Hairspray, then that’s neither here nor there. 

“That can’t be his real voice, can it?” Murphy’s lips disappear behind his teeth. 

His shoulders shake, though. Somehow that makes it feel as if they're even. Although Clarke’s not entirely sure what the competition is, honestly. So the concept of equality is moot. She flinches when someone hits the boards in front of them. At some point she’s cautiously optimistic she’ll stop doing that. 

Not-John Travolta yells again. With vowels that sound almost correct, until the obvious emotion takes over and the accent sharpens and Clarke’s fingernails dig roughly into her palm. Her jaw cracks, too. She’s made of rice crispy treats and anxiety. 

“I hate him.” “He has no idea who you are.”

“I could not possibly be more obvious about this.”

Scientifically speaking, her jersey does not get heavier. The letters on her back that form a name she’s not entirely in possession of yet, but is also kind of waiting to be partially hers, do not, in fact, tug on either one of her shoulder blades. 

Clarke went to med school. 

Multiple diplomas hang on her office wall back home. She’s smart. She knows. 

She understands. 

And yet. 

She wants to yank her arms away from her side and toss propriety to the metaphorical winds and throttle the guy standing next to her. For shouting at the ice like that. For shouting at Bellamy like that. 

Some of his insults are really creative, honestly.  

Throttle is a very old-sounding word. 

“Awfully self-important,” Murphy murmurs, barely audible over the din of the crowd. Clarke’s body is a medical marvel tonight. Truly, it’s incredible. Supersonic hearing and a stomach made of titanium lining because somehow that stomach has not simply disintegrated or melded with her spleen while watching her boyfriend slam into glass that’s really more plastic than congealed particles of sand. 

Is that the only way to make glass? Her familiarity with the production of glass stems almost entirely from Sweet Home Alabama. So, it’s entirely possible she’s not an expert. 

“Do you want people to know who you are?”

Well, there it is. The million-dollar question. Almost literally—because Bellamy signed that extension and the money isn’t Clarke’s, but some of it’s going into a trust for Maddie and she’s sort of glad Maddie isn’t here because it’s probably not the best version of parenting to be plotting covert murder in the middle of a sold-out arena. They’re too close to the ice, anyway. 

All those TV cameras would totally spot her. 

Murphy hums the JEOPARDY theme song. He’s not wearing a jersey. Blake, or otherwise. Clarke briefly considered painting the number 10 on her cheeks like she was a sophomore in high school and going to Saturday’s homecoming game instead of Thursday night’s playoff-berth clincher. 

“You have all the subtlety of an 18-wheeler.”

“Oddly specific.” Clarke lets out a breath. Through her nose. She’s got to stop holding her breath. And bouncing her knee. She’s never bounced her knee before. Not even when she spent 16 hours in the ER during the first weekend of her residency. So, that’s a fun new quirk to discover. About herself. 

Not-John Travolta is making up words now. There’s no other explanation. She’s never heard half of the things he’s saying—although that may be because the words are growing indistinguishable from their separate syllables, and she pretends not to notice how Murphy sits up straighter. 

The Rangers are winning. 

Have been for almost the whole third period, since Miller’s wrister rang off the in-goal camera. Clarke is perfectly aware of what a wrister is now. 

Which is good. Great, even. Proper terminology is important in medicine and sports and those worlds aren’t mixing for her anymore. They have been mixed, past-tense. There’s no separating them now. Not that she wants to or has even thought about. Not when she’s thinking about other things and letters in names and hyphens and dollar signs and possibility and—

Liquid sloshes over not-John Travolta’s hand as he lets his arms do whatever they want, Clarke recoiling with an instinct that immediately makes her snarl. 

Energy bunches in her calf muscles. The desire to run a full marathon has never been stronger. In that, it is the first time in her personal history that she’s ever felt like that. So, it automatically skyrockets to the top of the recently-formed list. Only one of her lungs feels as if it’s collapsing. That can’t bode well for her potential mile time. 

“How do they track your pace during a marathon?” To his credit, Murphy’s eyes don’t leave the ice when he replies, “Probably by the mile. Slow and steady. Winning the race.” “Tell me more platitudes, please.” “Idioms, really.” “What do you know about idioms?” “I went to college, too.” Clarke’s lips tip. Up. In something akin to happiness and anticipation. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Her lips don’t move. Her lungs don’t collapse. The energy in her calves moves toward her knees and her hips, neither of which entirely appreciate the distinctly non-ergonomic chairs at Capital One Arena. 

And they weren’t hiding. 

She texts Monroe with a regularity that felt like legitimate friendship. Three months ago, Casino Night photos littered more social media platforms than Clarke was aware even existed. Maddie mocked that realization for sixteen days straight. Bellamy counted. She’d met other girlfriends and… other relationship titles. That was the wrong order. No one called them GAWs, and that was probably for the best because that made Clarke think of seagulls and PIXAR movies and single parents and her mind did not prepare her body to twist with that amount of force. 

Snap, crackle, pop goes her sanity. 

“What the hell is your problem, man?”

Murphy had tears in his eyes by the time the final buzzer sounded. The Rangers won by two goals. Playoff-bound. Again. 

“So, uh,” Bellamy says, hair still damp from his post-game shower, and Clarke has to stop herself from blatantly smelling him. In the middle of the hallway. There are other people around them, for God’s sake. She can almost hear Murphy still laughing at her. Tonight has been an exercise in stopping herself, really. That she has been only marginally successful at. 

Pushing up on her toes, her nose grazes the underside of Bellamy’s chin and the side of his neck. Six-dollar ocean-scented body wash from CVS is her favorite smell in the world.  “Uh?” “Did he appropriately cower before you, Princess?” Her heels drop. 

Loudly. Or maybe that’s just the ringing in her ears. 

Bellamy smirks at her. The bastard. Absolute ass. The smirk becomes a full-blown grin, and Clarke has to blink against the force of it. 

“How did you—” “If you think I’m not always,” his head moves, “constantly,” his mouth finds the shell of her ear, “perpetually,” she shivers, he chuckles, “frustratingly aware of—” Clarke shoves at his chest. “Frustratingly!” “You’re real pretty when you’re yelling at random dudes in the stands, y’know.” “There is no possible way for you to know that I was yelling.” “The tips of your ears get red. Little signal fires. The beacons of Gondor are lit.”

“God, you’re such a dweeb. How do you function with all that dweeb’ness coursing through you?” “You think I’m cute, too.” “Mostly because of your hair.” He hums, more teeth involved against her neck that time and it’s good and he knows it’s good and that’s one-hundred percent why he did it. Clarke can’t fault him for that. “Thanks for defending my honor.” “He wouldn’t shut up.” “What was the final decision, then? Pistols at dawn?” “I told him to go drown in the Potomac after he said your on-ice vision was average,” Clarke takes a deep breath, “at best!” Bellamy’s eyes lighten. His lips disappear, too. Just like Muprhy’s. In any other situation, that would be sort of funny in a known-each-other-forever type of way, but Clarke’s not interested in attacking Murphy’s lips the way she is with Bellamy’s. Adrenaline is a fascinating thing. Her hair feels like it’s buzzing. She might be levitating. The only thing keeping her on the ground is the hands resting heavily on her aching hips. “And that’s,” she continues, “just patently untrue and insane. Even your greatest enemy—” “Babe, I do not have enemies.” “—Would be forced to acknowledge the incredible dexterity of your wrists. Hey, hey, we should study your wrists. Get a grant and do some sports science on it and—” “You’d have to get ESPN to start that show again, and I don’t know if you have that sort of pull.” “—So I told him to go drown and that maybe then he’d look a little better, even if he resembled a rat,” Bellamy’s eyes bug. While simultaneously glowing. No, that’s not right. Eyes don’t glow. Science. Clarke is a doctor. With degrees. And bouncy knees and so much energy and not-John Travolta had been wholly unprepared for her. 

She has to take a deep breath before she finishes, “He asked if we were, and this is a direct quote, fucking married or something, so I told him about the bacteria count of the Potomac, Murphy glared, you scored the empty net and that was that. No pistols.”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything. Turns into a statue, it seems. Muscles bunch with tension that Clarke doesn’t expect, only passably noticing through the haze of her adrenaline. Until it disappears just as quickly because he’s breathing far too rapidly for a statue and she doesn’t think they make many statues out of glass or plastic. He’d be marble, anyway. 

To honor his very good-looking face in perpetuity. 

The one that’s moving. Toward her and to her, and it had taken everything in Clarke’s soul to avoid saying not yet to the marriage question. 

Murphy didn’t hum the JEOPARDY theme song as they walked toward the friends and family station. He belted it. Let the sound bounce off walls and the tiled floors, seeping into Clarke until it times up with her heart. 

A marathon, not a sprint 

Bellamy’s tongue finds its way into her mouth. So, she stops thinking. Does the opposite of thinking. Pushes her fingers into water-soaked strands of hair and lets herself rest against the flat palm at her back, closing her eyes and breathing him in until all she can smell is six-dollar body wash. 

Everything settles. For half a moment. Another. A third. Because every time they pull away they fall back, twining limbs and sneakers that allow for upward movement on the tips of her toes. Clarke’s hips are getting much more attention than they should in a hockey arena that isn’t as empty as a moment like this demands. Canting up and rolling, and her hips don’t stumble, but she might, pushed against the nearest flat surface while her own tongue does a thorough inventory of a mouth she’s pretty intent on marrying. 

Eventually. 

Plus, like—the rest of him, too. She really is super attracted to Bellamy’s hair. 

“Stop staring at me when you’re supposed to be worried about faceoffs.” He doesn’t pull away, mumbling against her mouth, “Absolutely not.” “Ok, cool.” “Cool.”

He asks eventually. After a playoff run that’s different than the last, longer and better and Clarke kisses him before she answers. She figures that’s the answer. 

He smiles against her mouth. So, that helps. 

[urlbending]

The sellout au is actually a carmilla au! It's a proximity curse AU set early s1 that they decide there's Only One Way to cure. I had read a bellarke proximity curse au around the time (thats how old this fic is. We're talking the 100 s1!!) and really enjoyed it and thought it'd be a good match for laura and carmillas antagonistic relationship the first half of s1. I still think it's a really fun dubcon trope and should be used in more fics as like a magical handcuffed together/trapped in a closet situation The title is now deeply ironic, bc its hard to sell out for a dead fandom, but it was very much an active fandom at the time. It's 95% completed, but i chickened out when i got to writing the porn (which was the entire point of the fic), and the movie having a sex scene made me decide to shelve it Usually i find the plot and lead up to these types of fics can be boring, but this one has really fun quickfire plot scenes that I'm super proud of, and definitely helped when writing the wn married in vegas au im currently considering just finishing and posting it, mostly so it'll help knock arrow off my top fandoms in my profile. we'll see. Snippet: Only, when Laura's hand had grabbed Carmilla's to wrestle her off the computer, she felt a rush of clarity, like diving into a crisp pool on a hot summer day. They froze. Laura gingerly lifted her hand off, and felt the loss of contact like a dull ache. She put it back over Carmilla's, and the clear feeling returned. “Wow, they really messed this potion up.” “That's, that's not normal?” Laura's pulse was racing, which was a little ridiculous. Get it together, Hollis. “No, I've seen love potions in action before, and usually the second you make eye contact you start ripping off clothes. At the very least when there's physical contact. It takes some effort to screw up a potion this bad.” “What if it's a friendship potion? Maybe we just need to hug for a little bit and then we can get back to our busy, saving the university lives.” “Really, Kit Kat, a cuddle potion?” Carmilla smirked. “If you wanted to get into my bed so bad, you could've just asked.” “Ugh!” Laura threw up her hands. “If you want to be stuck like this forever, fine. I am going to go shower.” “Maybe it's a showering potion,” Carmilla called out as Laura trudged off to the bathroom. “Water could be the only way to break it! I really should come join you--” She slammed the door, but it wasn't thick enough to shut out Carmilla's laughter.

[aadmelioraa]

I Swear It Was an Accident

A long overdue Bellarke prompt fill for @parapluiepliant: “ I swear it was an accident.” Historical AU (Anne of Green Gables inspired), teenage Bellarke, enemies to friends, fluff, history nerd Bellamy, competitive Clarke.

In that moment, Bellamy Blake thought he’d never been so terrified of anything as the petite blonde who stood before him, immaculately dressed but for the spatter of dark blue ink that marred her skirt.

“Clarke, I swear it was an accident,” Bellamy protested, his freckles suddenly thrown into stark contrast as the blood drained from his face.

It really had been an accident. He hadn't meant to spill ink all over Clarke’s dress, but he’d mistakenly pushed his inkwell off the front edge of his desk, and since she sat right in front of him, she had taken the brunt of the damage.

Clarke sized him up with quiet rage. Mr Pike had his back turned to the class as he worked with Harper on a math problem. Literally every other pair of eyes was fixed on Bellamy and Clarke, waiting to see how the conflict would escalate.

It was an undisputed fact that in the short time they’d known each other, Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake had never gotten along. Bellamy had moved to town with his mother and sister just before the school year started, so he was at a bit of a disadvantage the first week of school when he’d somehow picked a fight with Clarke over the primary cause of the fall of the Roman Empire. The rivalry had only intensified from there.

And now, here they were, eyes locked on each other, Clarke’s face full of calculated disdain, and Bellamy’s apprehension barely masking his resentment. Clarke took a deep breath, her mouth fixed in a hard line, picked up her slate—which Bellamy noticed was covered in her perfect handwriting—and slammed it full force over Bellamy’s head.

The slate shattered everywhere, of course, and Bellamy was too stunned to even shake the fragments from his curls. It hadn't hurt as much as he would have thought, if he had time to think, but it definitely smarted enough to bring tears to his eyes for a second. He saw Clarke’s determination fade for the briefest of moments, and then her expression became stony again. Mr Pike’s head had whipped around the moment he heard the slate crack, and he was now striding towards them with an expression almost as terrifying as Clarke’s.

“You two,” he bellowed. “Outside, now.”

With a withering glance at Bellamy, Clarke stalked away from her desk and into the yard. Bellamy loafed after her, dreading whatever punishment was sure to come next. Thank god Octavia wasn't in school today, he thought.

“Now, I don't know exactly what happened in there,” Pike began, looking from one sulking pupil to the other, “But you clearly have a problem with each other and it’s becoming a distraction to the other students. Did you forget that you’re here to learn, not compete with and tease each other?”

“Bellamy started it,” Clarke replied, chin jutting up in the air.

“That was an accident!” Bellamy cried, fists clenching in anger.

“I don’t care!” Pike boomed. “Now, the two of you will spend the rest of the school day weeding,” he gestured to a patch of earth which he generously referred to as a garden, “and I don't want to hear a word in protest.”

Bellamy glanced over to see Clarke’s brow darken but she didn't make a sound. He glanced back up at Pike but he was already striding away into the schoolhouse.

Clarke pointedly avoided looking at him as she marched over to their assigned task. Dropping to her knees, she began strategically pulling weeds from among the beans and squash, carefully keeping her back to him.

He threw himself down on the opposite side of the patch, so as to make it as hard as possible for her to ignore him. He made quite a show of rubbing the growing bruise on the top of his head, and would have sworn he saw regret flicker across her face for a second. He smirked, and eased himself onto his back, head nestled in the cool grass.

He heard Clarke sigh, and chuckled to himself. “What’s the matter, princess?” he teased, finally recovering his sense of humor. “Didn’t think you'd get in trouble too?”

“Shut up,” Clarke shot back. “You ruined my best dress.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “It’s not like you don't have more where that came from.”

Clarke didn't respond, and when he glanced up at her he saw her wipe away a tear angrily. Something twisted in the pit of his stomach, and he regretted everything he'd just said.

“Hey, if it really means that much to you, I’ll buy you a new dress,” he heard himself saying, though exactly how he was supposed to come up with that kind of money he didn't know. Clarke’s clothes were the nicest of anyone in their school.

“I don’t need your pity,” Clarke shot back.

“Fine,” Bellamy mumbled, frowning.

Clarke glared at him, then suddenly stood up and began marching away from the schoolhouse and towards…the woods.

Bellamy stared after her for a moment, completely befuddled, then yelled, “Clarke, what the heck are you doing?”

“I’m going home!” she shouted, not bothering to call over her shoulder.

Bellamy scrambled to his feet, and without a second thought jogged after her.

“Clarke, you can’t walk home that way!”

“Yes I can. It’s the fastest way.”

“It’s also the most dangerous way, Clarke,” Bellamy argued, catching up with her and matching his stride to hers. “You remember that Finn Collins got robbed last week by vagrants, right?”

“Finn Collins is not as smart as I am,” Clarke shot back, chin held so high he wondered how she hadn't tripped yet.

“Clarke, you’re being ridiculous. Slow down. Think for a minute.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Bellamy knew she was referencing the fight he’d gotten into last week with John Murphy, and a blush rose to his cheeks. “That was different,” he muttered.

“Like hell it was.”

Bellamy smirked despite himself. It was the first time he’d heard her curse, and he had to admit this Clarke Griffin who cursed and set off alone on ill-advised journeys into the woods was growing more interesting by the minute.

They were a few hundred yards into the forest before he knew it, and Bellamy wondered if Clarke knew her way from here, because he certainly didn’t. She was striding confidently, but he was fairly sure that she would be acting exactly the same way whether she knew where she was going or not. Clarke certainly had a stubborn streak in her.

The trees began closing in around them, and the moss on the forest floor muffled their footsteps. They walked for some time in silence, until they heard a branch snap and what sounded like a hiss or screech issue from the heavy forest on their left.

Bellamy’s head whipped around, eyes searching in the dim light for whatever had made the noise. His hand grabbed Clarke’s almost instinctually, and he heard her sharp intake of breath as she squeezed back.

Bellamy took that moment to remind himself that, like Clarke, he also was smarter than Finn Collins, and moreover that he was not frightened of vagrants or wild animals or ghosts or any such thing.

Suddenly, the mysterious creature bolted from the shadows. Bellamy realized it was only a raccoon after a moment, but he jumped back, as did Clarke. He heard another snap, and suddenly they were both flat on their backs on the ground.

He glanced up at Clarke, her face pinched and white with pain. She unceremoniously wrenched her hand from his. “It was just a raccoon.”

“I know that now,” Bellamy replied sarcastically. “What’s the matter?”

Clarke grimaced. “I think I twisted my ankle when you knocked me over.”

She eyed him defiantly, waiting for his response, but Bellamy impressed himself by biting his tongue. Clarke was, after all, clearly in some amount of pain. She had removed her boot, and was gingerly applying pressure to the already swollen ankle with her fingertips.

“How bad is it?” Bellamy asked through gritted teeth.

In answer, Clarke swiftly jammed the boot back on her foot, issuing a small moan, biting her lip and blinking wildly. “Fine.”

“You can’t walk on that, Clarke,” he argued. “It might be broken.”

“It’s probably just a sprain.”

“You still can’t walk on it,” Bellamy sighed, running a hand through his curls.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” snapped Clarke, “Let you leave me here in the middle of the woods?”

“This was your idea,” Bellamy muttered.

Clarke pursed her lips but said nothing, just attempted to stand by grabbing onto Bellamy’s shoulder and hoisting herself to her feet. He helped her up, awkwardly placing a supporting hand on her back.

“At least let me help you,” he almost begged.

“Fine.” Clarke slipped an arm around his waist with an aggression that surprised him.

They made their way very slowly. Since Clarke was so much shorter than Bellamy, it was hard for him to prop her up.

“This is ridiculous. I don't have all day,” Bellamy grumbled. Fed up with the slow progress they were making, he deftly moved to scoop Clarke up in his arms before she could protest, and then began striding at his own pace.

“If you hadn't dumped ink all over me, this never would have happened,” Clarke muttered, clearly uncomfortable at no longer being in control.

“I told you, it was a goddamn accident!” Bellamy nearly shouted back…but his eyes caught Clarke’s, and suddenly she was laughing at him, then he was laughing with her, and he had to pause and put her down in order to take a breath.

“I’m sorry I broke my slate over your head,” she said gently when the laughter had subsided. “This dress was my father’s favorite, is all, but I know you didn't mean to damage it.”

Bellamy eyes widened in horror. He had never known Jake Griffin, just that he had died suddenly about a year ago, before the Blakes had moved to town. “Hell, Clarke, I didn't know that…I’m so sorry.”

“Stop it, Bellamy,” Clarke gently placed a hand on his arm. “I didn't mean to make you feel guilty, just to explain why I was so upset. But it doesn't matter, I’ll figure out a way to fix it.”

“I’m awfully sorry, Clarke.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at him. “I know.” She extended her hand for him to shake. “Truce?”

He smiled and grasped it firmly.

They arrived at the Griffin homestead about an hour later, dirty and sweaty and covered in brambles. Mrs Griffin rushed towards them as soon as she spied them from the porch.

“Clarke, are you alright? What happened?” Her eyes darted frantically from her daughter to Bellamy and back.

“Nothing, I just twisted my ankle.”

Bellamy helped Clarke into the rocking chair on the front porch.

“Clarke, whatever happened to your dress?” Mrs Griffin gasped.

“Nothing, mother,” Clarke replied meekly. “Besides,” her eyes met Bellamy’s, and they were dancing with laughter, “We’ve declared a truce.”

Bellamy just grinned. 

[astridandoddsandends]

#TheBestOfBellarke

Bellarke Creator Shoutout: Part 2.

1. Bellamy Blake fanart (May 21, 2021) by lallixart (Instagram).

2. Bellamy Blake fanart (September 9, 2021) by lallixart (Instagram).

3. "He’s among my stars now; a blessing and a curse always in sight but just out of reach" by ejtcylor (Twitter) - Bellamy Blake fanart.

4. Bellamy Blake fanart (Etherea) by @silvernyxa (Tumblr).

5. “My little princess” by @laura-mago-art-fanart (Tumblr) - Bellamy Blake fanart - Bellamy embracing his daughter.

6. "And the universe said I love you..." by @silvernyxa (Tumblr) - Bellamy Blake fanart.

7- Bellamy + mythology references by @bellamyblake (Tumblr) - Bellamy Blake gifset.

8. Bellamy Blake fanart by marambaia.art (Instagram) for scarletbela (Twitter).

9. The 100 Season 7 Episode 13 "Blood Giant" Bellamy Rant by Maymoney In Da' Building (Youtube) - Review.

《I'm just like wtf and [...] when it happened I was like not even prepared for it. I didn't even feel emotionally prepared for it and then she just left him bleeding on the f floor to die alone. He's been a character since season one, episode one, male lead. It's like what happened behind the scenes that's so bad for you to like... have no professionalism to write his character off correctly. You can kill him off. I don't want Bellamy to die, he's my favorite character, but if he dies give him a better depth than that garbage that you just tried to force down our throats and make us accept like [...]. You just ruin this entire f show for me. I'm pissed, I feel so... It's so stupid, it doesn't make any sense and it doesn't make any sense for all of the other characters to just write him off as a villain like so easily when he's done nothing but protect them and believe in them and save them and all sorts of things [...]. I mean it's outrage, it's disrespectful, it's disrespectful to the fans too [...].》

《You were just a spiteful small little heartless little man, okay? And you know who I'm talking about. I'm talking about this f writer because there's no way like [...]. You must have no experience with love or relationship at all because that's not how it works. Whatever you're going through in your personal life you need to learn how relationships and love f works. And because this ain't how it works you have to be real small and stupid and ignorant and just egotistical to pull that [...]. I feel hella hurt and betrayed by that bs and I hope you never ever write anything ever again.》

《That shit's just wrong bro that [...] is just wrong and it's like damn... He wasn't even in the season and the season for me personally suffered because Bellamy wasn't there. There was no Bellamy in it and when we finally got him things were looking up... Even though he was on the wrong side I was still happy to have his character in because he's a dynamic character that we all love and it don't matter what side he's on because we always know that he comes back to the right side. He can make mistakes but that'll mean he can't come back. But you just completely obliterated everything that he stood for as a character in the whole message that we thought... I guess was trying to be portrayed with his character . But apparently I must be stupid, okay? I must be just dumb as f because everything that I thought his character stood for... Love for his friends and family and trying to always trying to protect the people that he cared about and his people... Obviously that just goes out the window like... What was it all? What was the point?》

《It doesn't matter to me because obviously this show doesn't matter to you. Obviously the character of Bellamy doesn't matter to you, so why should I care when your spin off... I hope it spins all the way off into oblivion where it never is seen by a soul.》

10. The 100 7x13 "Blood Giant" | Reaction - "Ranting about how bad this show has gotten for almost half an hour" by Bia Reacts (Youtube). - Review.

《Bob, if you ever watch this... I'm so sorry, you deserved so much better than this and also I would like to point out... I have been in this fandom for a while now and I would just like to say [...] Hey, Jason. We all know what happened, okay? And if you're watching this... We know what happened, we know why this happened, okay? You can't fool us, you can't fool us. We know why this happened. [...] We all know what happened and Bob, I'm legit sorry, I'm utterly frustrated and mad and I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for Eliza too that she has, she had to, you know, shoot the scene... This is so disrespectful. The thing that makes me very angry is that this right here was just for shock value, you know? You are doing a tv show just because of the shock value. You're not thinking about the story and when you do a tv show I mean... Don't get me wrong, I love plot twists on the story. I love to be surprised but every plot twist, every good plot twist has a story behind it and if you do it only for the shock value you're just doing it to try to prove a point. You're just doing it to say "oh, I can do a plot twist on my show. I can surprise you. I can make your brain explode", you know? But you're not doing it for the sake of the story, you're just doing it to try to prove a point. You're just doing it to say "oh, my show is edgy, I can do plot twists, I can make people think" but you're forgetting everything that makes your show your show. You're forgetting all the character developments, you're forgetting all the relationship between the characters, you're forgetting all the story. It's just centered on the plot and this is not how a good tv show is.》

Part 1.

[acenancy]

Writing Tag Game

Tagged by @sabrinachill. Thank you, my friend! <3

20 questions, writer’s edition.

How many works do you have on AO3?

19 works

What’s your total AO3 word count?

62,952 words

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

5 fandoms

Nancy Drew

The 100

American Gods

Harry Potter

Teen Wolf

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Where the Lightning Strikes The 100, Bellarke

A Blush of Love The 100, Bellarke

Missing You is a Slow Burn The 100, Bellarke

i waited for your heart to melt American Gods, Mad Wife

Like Petrol Soaked Paper and Fireworks (She Burns) The 100, Bellarke

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes, I’ve been making a point of responding this year. It’s so kind of people to go out of their way and leave a comment on my work, big or small, and I want them to know how much I appreciate it. I don’t always respond right away but it’s only because I want to be able to match your energy when I do. Same goes for commenting on other writer’s fics!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

HM. Angstiest? Probably Chapter 5 of Missing You is a Slow Burn, though Chapter 4 personally hits harder.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Perhaps I Think It’s About Old Friends.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I only wrote one once bahahha and it was short and sweet. My lil Jily meets Stydia trash fire, Wizards of Beacon Hills High.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Unfortunately. Which...why? It’s not like fanfic writers are getting paid. We don’t owe you anything. It’s a hobby. You don’t shit on people’s hobbies.

Only feel free to critique my work if I’m seeing royalties, baby! 

So never.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I’ve tried. I’ve failed. End of story bahaha. I’d love to give it another shot one day.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Can’t say I have.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No

What’s your all time favorite ship?

FFFF. I feel bad not saying Bellarke since I loved them so passionately for so long but...my heart forever belongs to Jily. When all is said and done, I always return to them like home.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I currently do not have any WIPs that I do not intend to finish. double vision ALMOST got left in the dust, though. The plot got ahead of me for bimbo brain reasons.

What are your writing strengths?

Ah, I dunno. If I choose even one thing then I know tomorrow I’ll suck at that one thing specifically. 

What are your writing weaknesses?

Again, I’m going to follow Mattie’s lead and not specify anything I find weak about my writing. She made a good point in her post bahahah

However, generally speaking, it takes me a lot longer to string a sentence together than it did when I was younger. It turns out my mom was right, and drugs really do fry your brain! I’m dumb now.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I TRY TO AVOID IT. Out of respect. I don’t want to butcher any language but the English one.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, Marauders Era. All of that work is now gone with the wind...

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

The fics I wrote for Mad Wife are my favorite, especially i waited for your heart to melt. Sweeney and Laura’s nasty little relationship tapped into something raw and mean inside of me, so writing for them felt almost cathartic. Plus, their banter was the most fun to play with.

Tagging: @gernades @dogwithabirdatyour-door @acesdrew @flythesail @polkadotk804 @platanchorsociety @nancy-drew @stonerbughead @wildlittledaisies @acesnancy

If you’ve already been tagged or if you hate these things, my apologies!

[badasssupertash]

You made me feel like I was home in your arms. I will always call you home my darling, yet I may not find peace there anymore.

I wish you had stayed. I wished I had stayed too.//t.c

[when-emma-falls-apart]

This is it. Happy last Bellarke Family Selfie Night.

Or just last #bfsn

Thanks for the ride these last few years. Thanks for sticking with it through all the shit. Thanks for making this the best fandom and best ship TV has ever known, despite all the hate and the spite and the bad writing.

It’s time to face the music.

May we meet again.

Together we CAN do anything.

Thank you to my long-standing, long suffering Tumblr friend @4rm4n1ja . You’ve been with me through it all 💖 We’ll scream and cry about this later.

Thank you to literal ray of sunshine @flowerclarkes . Your #bfsn s are always the brightest Bellarke part of my week

Thank you to Ravenclaw queen @aspeckof-stardust . Your enduring positivity even at this last is what makes this fandom good.

And thank you to @laura-mago-art-fanart for showing this fandom what Bellarke could have been, and the happiness that we were promised, and just some of the best and most beautiful fandom art going around.

[wildflowerswildhorses]

Um this Bellarke bookshop Au that I have literally been working on off and on for months has broken 6k words and I’m actually fucking proud of it and want to post it but like I suck at titles and it’s probably going to sit for another month while I try to come up with a damn title for it

[nicketynic]

you got anything to say about all the drama?

Um, this is really unspecific, so I’m gonna try my best. There’s maybe three fandoms that’ve come across my blog recently, so I’ll try my best. 

If this is about ASoIaF/GoT, the recent discourse is nothing new. My position hasn’t changed. Dark Dany all out. D&D’s writing was shitty up until the end but villian Daenerys wasn’t a surprise, just handled poorly. 

If is is about the 100 community, calling it drama is incredibly trite. That said, support victims, survivors deserve to be heard. Sending vile messages and death threats across social media isn’t the way to go, donate and spread awareness to charities and organizations supporting survivors of intimate partner abuse. The 100 is in the can and paid for, it’s finished, boycott future projects as you see fit. Bellarke content will probably be seen on this blog again, and on many others, separate the actors from the characters and don’t spread hate among your own fandom. 

If this is about CR, um, I’m shooting in the dark, are there shipwars? That’s shitty if there is, but not cool. Maybe what’s happening to Ashley and Laura in the wake of Last of Us II? Yeah, death threats on Laura Bailey’s Twitter were a horrific thing to do, that’s really the only decent and human thing to say about the matter?

Does this do anything? ?_?

[distant-rose]

For the Fandom asks - R O M Y

Ahahahhaha, I see what you did there. Very clever. My X-Men Mom and Dad!

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

This is hard because there’s a lot of amazing relationships in the Marvel universe, but if you put a gun to my head, I would totally say Remy LeBeau and Laura Kinney. Remy is so protective and supportive of her (even though she doesn’t need it) and has always advocated for her, even when Logan hasn’t. Margaret Liu’s X-23 run wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t a fan of how she portrayed Julian, but the dynamic between Laura and Remy during that run is my fucking favorite. I die inside every time I see the scene where he’s reading Le Petit Prince to her from the feelings I get.

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

Shuffled my iPod and came up with “ocean eyes” by Billie Eilish and it reminds me of a ship for the Earth-6282 (the marvel au created by myself and @justanotherwannabeclassic) call Mekka, mainly because it’s a relationship featuring a blue-eyed ginger assassin and a bombshell thief who is kinda allergic to emotional intimacy. So when I hear the lyrics “I’m scared, I’ve never fallen quite this high, falling into your ocean eyes” I think of Matt and Bekka.

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

Answered this here

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)

I’m not in the 100 fandom but I’m contractually obligated to like Bellarke and read Bellarke fanfiction because my good Judy @welllpthisishappening writes fic for it and I’m a sucker for her writing.

Give me a letter and I’ll answer a question

[wmhalliwell]

Shipping Post Game

Oh GOD this is gonna be torture since my OTPs change so much. Anywayyyyy, thanks for tagging me @easilydistractedbyfanfic ;P

Tag 9 people you want to know better - literally too tired to think so whoever wants to do this

Top Three Ships (and a lil about ‘em)

1. Mad Sweeney/Laura Moon - Where would I be without my drunk not-a-leprechaun and dead wife? Sad and alone just like Laura, that’s what. Legit didn’t expect them of all things to pull me so far into AG, but here we are. I've thought about them all damn day (like today specifically) and I am so sad that we probs won’t ever get another scene with them ever again because damn that ending shot!!

2. Kylo|Ben/Rey - Ok so yeah they’ve taken over my life. It’s like post TLJ but even more now because I don’t give a fuck. Fandom made me squirrel away my love for them quickly after TLJ but now I just want them alive and happy and to forget TROS happened and write them the ending they deserve

3. Bellarke (ft. Murven) - Literally the only reasons I’m still watching this trash show. I find it doubtful Murven will kiss in the last season since John proposed to Emori (which as a multi-shipper I like Memori too but ???) BUT there’s still hope for Bellarke, aka the ship that rips my heart out year after year and stomps on it and then hands it back while looking proud.

Last Song you listened to: Stole the Show by Kygo ft Parson James

Last Movie you watched: Maleficent: Mistress of Evil (still; I haven’t watched a lot of movies lately)

Currently Reading: How Rory Thorne Destroyed the Multiverse (amazing!), multiple twit-fics, and loads of RebelCaptain fics 😭

Last Thing you ate: uh dinner? lol ham, sweet potatoes, green beans!

[welllpthisishappening]

Done. Done. D O N E.

To suggest that writing my Bellarke Big Bang was an enormous labor of love and hair-pulling, would also be vastly underselling it. I tried to write this story last year, but, you know, life made that  practically impossible and parts of this made me a little cross-eyed. It is so much longer than I planned on it being (let's all act surprised) and it's entirely possible the magic got a little heavy-handed at parts, but I'd like to think most of it makes sense and there's really a lot of kissing.

Now, I'm going to ignore it for no less than a week and a half. Read some more fantasy books. Make my magazine deadlines. And be very proud that I finished a story here in the year 2021.

[bethanyactually]

Fanfic reader asks: 6, 9 & 10!

6: what’s your least favourite fanfic category?

Probably whump, hurt/comfort. Along those lines. 

9: what are your favourite ships to read fics for?

I realized as I read these questions that I’m kind of in a weird place to reblog a meme like this, because I’m actually not reading much fanfic right now, not compared to any time in the last six years. I’m always ready to read good fic for Jeff/Annie or Cormoran/Robin, but most of the fic-reading I do right now is tied to specific authors. Like, I don’t seek out Hinny fic, but if @annerbhp is writing one you better believe I’m gonna read it. I don’t feel a need for Rethaniel fic, but I’ll happily read it if @catty-words writes it. If @ponyregrets is writing...uh, basically anything, I will read anything she writes and enjoy it, but especially Bellarke. @actuallylorelaigilmore is my sole current source of Alvareider fic, bless her. If @greatestheights ever wrote more Josh/Donna fic it would be a happy day, but I’m happy to re-read her old fics if the need ever strikes. If @pepperf writes anything at all, I’m definitely gonna read it (and probably beta it). And so on.

10: have/would you read a reader-insert fic?

I was going to say I had never read such a thing, when I remembered that @jeffwik wrote me a hilarious self-insert fic for my birthday last year. :) So I guess I have, and I would---but again, this is probably tied more to specific authors than anything else.

Thanks, Laura! :)

want to send me some fanfic reader asks?

[laurarobin]

send me prompts?

Hey guys! I’m trying to get back into the groove of writing so I would love some writing prompts to get me started.

I write mostly Bellamy Blake + Clarke Griffin and Scarlet Witch + the Vision (both comics and MCU), but I’m open to writing other ships that I also ship. I accept nsfw prompts. If you wanna check out some of my other works, click here.

I love writing AUs, UST fics, and angst with HEAs. I don’t do non-con/rape, BDSM, or pregnancy fics, so please don’t ask.

[redrosestd]

The letter I never sent you

Hey,

I’ve been staring at this blank space for like half an hour trying to gather the courage to write what I’m planning to. Yes, it’s going to be in English because I think that it matches our pattern. So yeah here I am again. I know that it sounds too dramatic to e-mail you but you know me. I’m here as a last touch. I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff that I never told you or showed you. And since we never talk about our past like normal human beings I’m here in the form of an e-mail. I think you have no idea how much you meant to me while we were together. After you came with all that Edward Cullen's narrative of “I’m bad for you and you deserve someone better” that I noticed it. I think that in your head you were merely a crush to me. You have to understand that nothing is simple and mild with my feelings, if I hate someone I HATE THAT PERSON if I love someone is in the same strength. So yeah it was never a high school thing for me. I never had anyone before, so I didn’t hold myself back with fear in my heart. I had my heartbreaks before but I never came close to think or even have something that was corresponding with someone. And yeah for a while before all that happend you were kind of interesting but you were always too far for me to even consider anything. I don’t know if you remember this day but in 2017 while we were at that college party we talked for the first time and on that same day we played that bottle game where you told you would like to kiss me and I said yes back. You probably don’t even remember it but okay. We had minor interactions because of our friends or because I was watching something you like. And then 2019 came along and bam you were there. I remember the first time that we saw each other on the bus, and I was “hey, stranger”. I never thought that anything was even possible between us. Your friends never liked me that much and you were always so so distant. But every time we talked for those 2 years everything was so nice, and we clicked so fast, even if it was to fight because of Bellarke X Clexa. So when you started approaching I was like “What’s going on?”. I even thought that it was only a bad joke because for me that was impossible. When you asked me out I freaked out SO BAD because I wanted to try, but I was so so afraid. One year before that a girl broke my heart so I was not in the mood for anything. You can ask my friends that the moment I told myself “I’m good by myself” you came around. But deep down I wanted to try. And I tried. I held my insecurities low because I trusted that it could work. And it worked. For a couple of months but It worked. You made me so so happy and that was more than enough for me. I’m not hard to please and what we had was exactly what I needed. We had our own time and that was what mattered to me. But then out of nowhere a bomb came and crashed every single thing that we built. I never expected that to happen because I thought that we mattered more than that history. That we were good for each other and that was what mattered. But I was wrong. That week that you spent not looking at my face crashed me so hard because I couldn’t get it. One day before we were planning things to do together and you even invited me to that party you went. And then you started ignoring me. After all that I was left in the dark. I’m like you more than you think, when something is out of my control I freak out too. But I never give up as easily as you do. I like to keep my issues clear, so I know how to organize them in my life. You had your place in my life and then not anymore. I was lost back then and you told me “okay, let’s try again” but we never did. Eventually, everything came to an end on that ridiculous Halloween party. I was already miserable because of everything that was going wrong with my life. My job was driving me crazy, I was relapsing on my ED, my family was driving me crazy, my best friend was leaving and then you. You were the last string that broke me. I went into such a dark place after we broke. It was not your fault that I was like that and don’t blame yourself that much. But you were my safe spot. Whenever I was sad or miserable I looked at my wallet and there was our Polaroid and everything was okay. When I left I was trying to get myself back from everything that stole myself from me last year. I was doing what you told me to. You told me that you didn't want me so I tried to get over you. I don’t even recognize me from 2019. But in my head, I always knew that we were lying to each other. I’m not that stupid okay. I know your signs really well, I know where you are right now and what’s in your head and I just want you to stop listening to that voice that stops you from being happy. The voice that makes you freak out every time that we talk about feelings. That voice is no good for you. I feel sad every time that I remind myself that you chose that voice over me. That we are not together because of that. But let’s talk about now. When you asked me to be your friend I gave up on my own way of dealing with things to be your friend. I would take my time alone to get over you but I stayed because you wanted me to. But the thing is that you never treated me as such. We just entered a limbo where we stay in your comfort zone. If we were over each other we would have talked about what happened. We would even make jokes about it, but no, we never talk about it. I can’t call you the names that I call my friends. I can’t tell you all the things that are happening in my life and neither do you. You ask me to move on but you won’t let me. You always push me back. Every time that I think that I’m getting over everything you come along again. You can lie as you want but you never treated me as your friend. You don’t treat me the same way you treat your friends. And that makes me always question myself why. Why don’t you talk to me about it? Why do you keep burying me deep in your insecurities? Why don’t you trust me? Why can't you try to listen to what you really want? I told you that I’m patient and that I would wait for you and this email is me telling you that some small part of me is still waiting and I can't deny it from myself, but enough is enough. This email is me asking you to choose who you’re going to listen to. If you’re going to listen to your fears and let me leave or fight for an instance and try to understand what you really want. I’m only doing this because we need a finale. I need to know if I can throw every feeling that I have for you in the trash and move on. And if that's what you decide I want you to let me leave. If you want to listen to what you really want I’m here. But you need to decide where you’re going to be. Sorry if this is too long but that’s the only way that I can explain what is going on in my head and I’m being 100% honest with you, if you care even a little you’re going try to be honest with me. I swear that I’m not trying to hurt you or that I’m going to leave you the moment you put your guard down. I’m not like that, if I was like that I wouldn’t still be here. I care about you so so much. And as Florence says “Let me leave or let me love you”.

 https://open.spotify.com/track/7zTsQEfFbvi8eMXOK5z5OY?si=5Ry58vmWSQKQB-xq0gFDBw

This song is everything that I have left to tell you. Love, Laura

[badasssupertash]

I can see it in my words our love is dying. Can’t you? I was told as a kid that there was a place where the unfinished is complete, that our stories unwritten, the ones I could not write are finished, that all are hopes and dreams are safe. Where our love can never die. But in this world I can feel you slipping away darling and I don’t know how to keep you, I can’t hold on. This is not fair on either of us. I love you but I can’t keep you, I found myself in the old pages I wrote years ago, the ones that were forgotten. I can’t keep coming back to our story, the person who made me lose myself. I’m sorry my love, I can’t do this. I can feel us dying.

Can’t you see us seeping off the parchment. Our love is dying.//t.c