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heartilywrites · 7 months ago

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I have a request for Kuvira! First date headcannons or a fic about making her flustered pls, up to you if you want to do both or just one

oooh, interesting, why not a bit of both?

،، 𝓕irst date with Kuvira

content warning: fluff ; headcanons and a one shot included ; reader is from Zaofu too ; no use of y/n ;

wc: 1k

a/n: HELLO :D i have some requests for Kuvira lined up, but i'm doing some quick rewatch of s4 so i can write her like she deserves, if you requested one of those, know that i didn't forget, i will get them as soon as i can <3 ENJOY THIS ONE !!

“ I don't wanna let it burn in the city lights and make the same mistakes.

♡ ; Kuvira and you had been flirting with each other for quite some time now before one got the enough courage to ask the other out.

♡ ; It was totally you. It was way too spontaneous.

♡ ; One day you two were talking on her break from the surveillance, eating a snack you brought to share.

♡ ;‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We should go on a date, what about friday night?” you would ask out of nowhere.

♡ ; In clear shock, Kuvira would've chocked on a bite of the snack, before getting herself together and accepting the date with the strongest tone of red in your face.

♡ ; You gave her the sweetest smile before continuing eating and talking like nothing happened.

♡ ; But in her head were sounding alarms and screams excited to finally having a formal date with you.

♡ ; And don't get her wrong! She loved the spontaneous get together you two had, maybe going for food together, you accompanying her on the last minutes of her rounds, she walking you home.

♡ ; But she wanted to go on a formal date, one she could presume to everyone, and so did you.

♡ ; So, the next couple of days you would ask her if she was ready for the date just to see her blush and get a little bit nervous.

♡ ; Who would've thought the captain of the military was so easy to fluster... Just by you, obviously.

♡ ; She said she wanted to take care of the date since she had an idea for it, you agreed.

♡ ; Finally friday came and by the dawn you were running around your room to get ready.

♡ ; Your best attire ironed and resting in a coat rack, your shoes cleaned and you were applying the lightest make-up before doing your hair.

♡ ; By the time Kuvira knocked on your door you were putting on your last bracelet.

♡ ;‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'LL TAKE IT, NO ONE MOVES.” you screamed to your family while running downstairs, a second before opening the door you checked yourself quickly in the mirror at the entrance.

♡ ;‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You look gorgeous.” she said after you opened the door for her.

♡ ; Your face would changed colors again while the biggest smile showed on your lips without any permission. “You look gorgeous too.”

♡ ; The captain offered you her arm to take and so you did after telling everyone you'll be getting back late, probably.

♡ ; The metalbender would've avoid the questions about the location of the date you made, changing it to another question.

‍ ‍♡ ; ‍ ‍‍ “The moon looks beautiful tonight, doesn't it?” “Did you hear if the night was going to be cold? I didn't pay attention to the weather person.” “Did I tell you I saw a butterfly today while doing my rounds? It was a blue one.” and so on.

♡ ; She stopped at a table sitting in the outside, with the most beautiful landscape behind it, the moon shining with such bright that you stayed in silence looking at such gorgeous scene.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Do you like it?” she asked when she stopped hearing your voice, when turning to look at you her eyes could perceive the bright in yours.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's perfect.” a whisper came from your way before pulling her from the arm you've been holding the whole walk, both giggling.

Kuvira took one of the chairs, pulling it back and inviting you to sit. Smiling you took the seat, she walked to the other side and sat on her chair. With metalbending, the captain took off the metal cover from the plates revealing roasted duck, rice and deep-fried pickled radishes, you blinked surprised at the dish turning your eyes back to Kuvira, she was smiling without showing her teeth and a small blush on her cheekbones.

The dinner went smoothly, at the beginning both of you were so nervous that it felt like there weren't any topic left to talk about as if you didn't talk on the way there, but once you got comfortable again it was easy to take again the pace of the conversations.

At one point, your free hand reached for Kuvira's, her words got stuck in her mouth and twisted a bit in her tongue at the new feeling in her skin, but she embraced the gesture by intertwining your fingers with hers and continue to talk about the dance practice of that week.

The walking back when the dinner was over and both of you seemed tired enough was calm. Instead of your hand resting on her arm, both were tangled and you made them balance back and forth while smiling, satisfied with how the date went, totally planning on a second one.

The captain walked you back to your house, standing at the door both of you finished a conversation while you look lazily for your keys.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I had fun,” you said, facing her directly without letting go of her hand. “The food was so delicious.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I had fun too.” she repeated back at you, smiling a little bit. “Maybe we can do this again another day..”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Would love to.” against your will, you let go of her hand and unlocked your front door.

Kuvira whispered an almost quiet 'night' before turning around, but was shortly stopped by your hand around her wrist making her turn back around to you, she was about to question the action and was quickly cut off by your lips over hers.

It was a short kiss, a goodbye one, but it totally was such a sweet gesture that made her whole face turn red when you took a step back.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Goodnight, captain, see you tomorrow.” you said goodbye with a funny smile while getting in the house and walk up your bedroom.

You would never know this, but Kuvira stood in your entrance surprise, she didn't had the time to react properly to the kiss. Her right hand traveled to her lips, with a faint touch she felt them and a big smile formed in her mouth before turning around and go back to her place, feeling like she was walking on clouds.

#the legend of korra #the legend of korra x reader #kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira fluff #one shot #headcanons

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radiosandrecordings · 4 years ago

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Okay getting DEEP into the Jon Design Timeline with @mcwebby and I have a theory/meta that sounds kind of outlandish but stay with me. And it’s about why people transferred from drawing Jon with jumpers/sweater-vests to cardigans. It’s about the emotional vulnerability, which turned into androgyny, and also the visual appeal of a well composed Jarchivist. No really, stay with me here.

So it all really ties back to the hair as far as I can see, and how the hair is... tied.. back... Hah. When he’s given long hair, the styling of it depends on the artist, but commonly it will be tied back in some fashion, often with a centre parting. And this just generally looks nice with a cardigan, because it sets up the centre as the focus point for his design. There’s just a line going down the front the whole way and it’s all very Graphic Design is my Passion.

Now for the meta stuff. So I genuinely think you can tie something to the fact that people seemed to switch over to cardigans during S4, when so far his designs had primarily stuck to jumpers or sweater vests, much more generic or sometimes Cecil-esque. S4 is when Jon goes through a lot of his more emotional moments. I still hold up S3 as it’s key moment of his humanising when compared to S2 and especially S1, but S4 (especially as it’s when many people joined) was when we saw Jon at his emotional lowest. In season three he at least has a goal, travelling about and trying to stop the ritual. In a lot of S4 he’s kind of... Listless, depressed, plot still progresses but he’s sad and we really get a sense for the more soft, emotional Jon, the one who contemplates his own humanity and pines after Martin. So am I claiming that “He is more open emotionally, and thus, he is now wearing open knitwear as opposed to the single-piece closed jumper or sweater vest”... Yes that is exactly what I’m claiming actually. There is a certain degree of vulnerability to it I think! It’s also still recognisable as somewhat formal, but not really the office attire of S1. It’s a little bit more relaxed, often it’ll be slightly oversized to emphasise how he’s kind of small and gangly and not at all physically intimidating. Even artists who draw him with cardigans the majority of the time often give their S1-2 iteration a jumper because, I think, of that sub conscious association?

S4 is also when a lot of GNC/Non-binary Jon was popularised (It was around a little bit before, but it mostly came from when Entombed came out and the summary referred to Jon as ‘they’ and it spiralled a bit, as far as I remember). And as stupid and cisnormative as it is, I do think there’s something to the fact that traditionally cardigans are more feminine and jumpers more masculine, and how people started playing with Jon and gender, especially again influenced by the long hair. People doubled down on the grandma look for a bit, either that or just going full Hot Jon. So maybe it wasn’t intentionally that deep and I’m projecting all of this in retrospect, but I think there is definitely something to say about the designs for him and how I would be analysing them from a film or theatre perspective if one were to be taken and used as an official visual for him. Kind of makes me want to write something in the style of an essay for my theatre or film class about how I would dress him as a character from a director’s POV in something. Make it symbolic instead of... reading 600 words into Nothing about a cardigan

#My Post #The Magnus Archives #Jonathan Sims

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love-songs-for-emma · 3 years ago

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thinking about hannibal & will's s4 runaway to cuba... thinking about them creating new identities... and how sometimes they're so infatuated with each other in public that they forget about their alibis...

Two Idiots in a Gallery,

(no, not that gallery. one post-TWOTL.)

will and hannibal are attending a charity event in a well-respected art gallery, dressed to the nines, chatting with socialites in this beautiful marble hall. its white pillars stretch all the way up to a ceiling from which, if you fell, you probably wouldn't live to tell the tale. although, we did survive a much worse fall than that many moons ago, will thinks to himself while peering up at the biblically-painted ceiling. this pebble of thought has him reflecting on the night of his Becoming... the Great Red Dragon, oh, how did he ever think he stood a chance against us?

hannibal brings will back to reality when he begins to drag him over to introduce themselves to the gallery's owner. while waiting for their turn at conversing with the man of the hour, will can't help but stare at the glow on hannibal's face. the lighting in this place has that classic yellow twinge and when combined with hannibal's joy at being surrounded by "culture," he looks nothing short of an angel.

when hannibal notices will staring, he lights up and beams right back at him. a blush forms on will's cheeks as he feels the warmth coming through his darling's eyes.

"hello there, were you two waiting on me or can you just not look away from my exquisite attire?"

hannibal breaks his loving gaze away from will to see the petit balding man he's been waiting for standing before them. heart still aflutter and his mind somewhere else, hannibal tries to ground himself,

"it is a rather wonderous shade of blue and well-fitted at that. but yes, we were of course waiting to meet the man of the hour."

as he reaches out to meet their host's extended hand, he begins with his name. it's the only thing he might remember at this moment other than will's look of adoration. adoration of him.

"hann-" momentary panic flickers through his eyes, "-d shake it is? good man." a pause. "i'm arthur ilyees." nice save.

"it's a pleasure to meet you señor ilyees," the man says. an all-too-rehearsed polite smile makes its way across hannibal's thin lips.

"please. call me Arc," he says as their hands release.

will struggles to hold back a laugh and instead, turns it into a bold smile as he eyes hannibal - it's will's turn to be distracted by his murder husband's beauty. a hand extends towards him and he takes it firmly,

"will -- uh, you tell me your name, señor?" will chokes out, sweat forming on his brow.

hannibal smirks at the immediate, beautiful karma... until his embarrassment sets in. will caught the slow blink and slight shake of his partner's head, as he realizes what he's just asked. immediately attempting to back track,

"i mean, how you'd like us to refer to you? señor roberto de álvarez-garcía is quite the mouth full."

and asking the host of the private event you were lucky enough to be invited to is quite the stupid thing to do. but the host himself seems unphased, already a few drinks deep will is now noticing.

"call me whatever you please! it is too glorious an evening to worry much about formalities with all these kind-hearted donors surrounding us."

a breathe of relief. and a moment to snicker over later once they return home.

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papermoonloveslucy · 5 years ago

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Gene Kelly... An American in Pasadena

March 13, 1978

Directed by Marty Passetta ~ Written by Buz Kohan ~ Choreography by Gene Kelly

The title puns on Kelly’s 1951 film An American in Paris and where the special was taped (and where Kelly made his home) Pasadena, California.

The city of Pasadena is known for hosting the annual Rose Bowl football game and Tournament of Roses Parade. In addition, Pasadena is also home to many cultural institutions, including the Pasadena Playhouse, Pasadena Symphony, and the Ambassador Auditorium.

Featuring Lucille Ball, Frank Sinatra, Gloria De Haven, Kathryn Grayson, Betty Garrett, Cyd Charisse, Cindy Williams, Liza Minnelli, and Janet Leigh. Natalie Wood was scheduled to appear on the show, but had to back out at the last minute. Also in the cast is Bridget Kelly, his daughter, and specialty dancer Alex Romero.

Gene Kelly was an Oscar-winning performer, choreographer, and director who did four films with Lucille Ball between 1943 and 1967.

DuBarry Was A Lady (1943)

Thousands Cheer (1943) also with Gloria DeHaven & Kathryn Grayson

Ziegfeld Follies (1945) also with Cyd Charisse & Kathryn Grayson

A Guide For the Married Man (1967) directed by Gene Kelly

A Hollywood legend for his effortless dancing, Kelly died in 1996 at age 83.

The special integrated film clips from some of Kelly’s most popular films, including Brigadoon (which inspired “Lucy Goes To Scotland”) and Singin’ in the Rain (which was performed in “The Hollywood Unemployment Follies”).

In an interview about directing the special, Marty Pasetta described Kelly as a “workhorse.”

The 60-minute special was taped at Pasadena College In February 1978 and aired March 13th on CBS. It was a black-tie fundraiser for a Los Angeles Charity.

Coincidentally, the special aired on a Monday night, just like nearly all of Lucille Ball’s new programs.

The special opens with exterior footage of the theatre with dancer’s dressed as in An American in Paris, as well as Jerry, the cartoon mouse Kelly danced with in Anchors Aweigh (1944) as some of the formally attired audience looks on.

Since the show aired a week before St. Patrick’s Day, Kelly enters down the theatre aisle leading a bagpiper band and wearing an emerald green top hat.

Lucy is discovered in the audience, shouting for Arthur Godfrey (who was not in attendance). On March 27, 1978, Lucille Ball and Arthur Godfrey both participated in “CBS On The Air” representing Monday nights in the week-long celebration of their first five decades.

On the special, Kelly and Ball recreate the Cole Porter song “Friendship” from their film Du Barry Was A Lady.

In the film, however, the song was a trio with Red Skelton.

Lucy strips off her skirt showing of her legs for the number.

“Friendship! Friendhsip! Just the perfect blendship!”

Lucille Ball also sang the song (with Vivian Vance) on her television show “I Love Lucy” in the episode “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3). While the song is now closely associated with the 1934 musical Anything Goes, it was actually written for Ethel Merman and Burt Lahr to sing on Broadway in DuBarry Was a Lady (1939). Lucy played Merman’s role in the 1943 movie version of DuBarry with Red Skelton and Gene Kelly. When Lucy and Ethel perform it here, she repeats some of the same choreography she did in the film. Merman, unhappy that Lucy took her role in DuBarry and was now singing ‘her’ song on national television, insisted that “Friendship” be inserted into a 1954 TV version of Anything Goes starring Burt Lahr that she did just six months later. The song has remained in Anything Goes ever since. The song has been performed as both a duo and a trio.

LUCY, THE KELLY GIRL

The first time Gene Kelly shared the small screen with Lucy (as well as Desi and Cyd Charisse) was for the 30th Anniversary of MGM on “Toast of the Town” hosted by Ed Sullivan. It was aired on Valentine’s Day 1954.

Lucy and Kelly next turned up on the same TV show with “Jackie Gleason's 51st Birthday Celebration” in February 1967.

Gene Kelly was a presenter at the 1968 Emmy Awards where Lucille Ball won for Best Actress in a Comedy Show. It was aired on NBC.

Lucy and her husband Gary were spotted in the audience in “Ol’ Blue Eyes is Back”, a 1973 Frank Sinatra special with special guest Gene Kelly. Lucille Ball did not perform or speak. The show was nominated for two Emmy Awards and was issued on DVD.

In 1976, Lucille Ball and Gene Kelly were both part of a four and a half hour extravaganza celebrating 50 years of the peacock network.

That same year, Lucy and Kelly were both on the dais for “The Dean Martin Celebrity Roast: Danny Thomas” another NBC outing for Lucy.

Also in March 1978, the same year as “An American in Pasadena”, Lucy, Sinatra, and Kelly participated in NBC’s “A Tribute to Mr. Television Milton Berle”.

Just after the turn of the year 1980, Lucille Ball and Gene Kelly are a few of the many guests of Frank Sinatra celebrating his 64th birthday and 40th year in show business. Taped at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas it aired on...NBC!

In 1980, after several years of moonlighting at the peacock network, Lucille Ball finally signed a contract with NBC. To announce her change in networks, NBC produced the 90-minute special “Lucy Moves To NBC” which featured many of the NBC stars and special guests, including Gene Kelly.

At a Hollywood restaurant, Lucy and Gale Gordon encounter Gene Kelly.

Gloria DeHaven was also in the special in a show-within-the-show sitcom segment titled “The Music Mart” performing opposite Gene Kelly’s friend and co-star Donald O’Connor. Lucy has a cameo as Sister Hitchcock, a character named for director Alfred Hitchcock, who often did cameos in his own films.

In 1985, Lucille Ball joined Cyd Charisse, Janet Leigh, and Frank Sinatra for “The Friars Club Presents a Salute to Gene Kelly” on NBC. Also in attendance was Natalie Wood, who backed out of “An American in Pasadena” as well as fellow Hollywood hoofer, Fred Astaire.

PASADENA POTPOURRI

In the 1960 film The Facts of Life, Kitty (Lucille Ball) and Larry (Bob Hope) are two friends from suburban Pasadena embarking on a flirtation.

The exterior shots of the Beardsley home in the 1968 Lucille Ball / Henry Fonda film Yours, Mine & Ours is located in Pasadena, California. Coincidentally, the 2005 remake was filmed at different home in Pasadena.

In “Lucy and the Soap Opera” (TLS S4;E19) the gardener (a heavily disguised Lucy Carmichael) says he has a family of 97 with cousins in Pasadena, Glendale, Rodondo Beach, Cucamonga, and 'Horrywood’ (“a little suburb between Anaheim and Azusa”). Later, disguised a the little old lady, Lucy repeats the same list of cities.

In “Lucy and the Ex-Con” (HL S1;E15) Lucy and Wally Cox go undercover as typical little old ladies named Abigail Throckmorton and Lydia Perkins. Cox adds “of the Pasadena Perkins’.” This played on the tremendously popular 1964 song “Little Old Lady From Pasadena” by Jan and Dean.

In a 1970 episode of “Here’s Lucy,” guest star Liberace tries on his light-up jacket and says “This’ll really turn them on in Pasadena!” He could be referring to his senior citizen female fans - the “little old ladies from Pasadena” - as the song says.

The Emmy Awards were often hosted at the Pasadena Civic Auditorium. In 1981, Lucille Ball was both presenter and honoree. She received a standing ovation, which moved her to tears.

The action of the short-lived “Life With Lucy” takes place in South Pasadena, California. Lucy (Barker) and John Ritter performed in a play at the Pasadena Playhouse, a real-life theatre that hosted many name actors, including Charles Lane, a character actor seen on “I Love Lucy” and “The Lucy Show.” Others included Florence Bates, George Reeves (raised in Pasadena), Eve Arden, Ruth Buzzi, Max Showalter, Jamie Farr, Moroni Olsen, Robert Preston, and Eve McVeagh.

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unfolded73 · 8 years ago

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Another New York City Serenade (7/7) - COMPLETE

Thanks again to everyone who read/liked/reblogged/commented/kudosed/sent me messages or otherwise flailed at this fic, helping me to survive the winter and the hiatus. I love you all.

Summary: With the visitors from Arendelle gone and Gold banished, Emma and Killian’s relationship continues to deepen, especially when an excuse for a road trip away from Storybrooke falls into their laps. (A S4 hiatus story).

Beta: @j-philly-b

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3895 this chapter/30k overall

(tagging @kmomof4 @this-too-too-sullied-flesh @cherrywolf713 @stardusted-nymph upon request)

CHAPTER 7

Killian opened his eyes to the now-familiar surroundings of his room at Granny’s, faintly lit in the pre-dawn glow. He groaned, stretching his limbs in an attempt to banish the ache caused by too many hours sitting in Emma’s automobile the previous day. They’d both been exhausted when Emma pulled into town, and had limited themselves to a brief goodnight before he climbed out of the car and Emma drove off to pick Henry up from Regina’s house.

The whole trip to New York felt a little bit like a dream now. As he got dressed, Killian caught himself staring at a stray earring of Emma’s he had found on the floor the previous week and had neglected to return to her. He picked it up, squeezing it tightly between his fingers to reassure himself that she was real. That he hadn’t somehow dreamed up their entire relationship.

Belle was already working behind the circulation desk when he arrived at the library after breakfast. “Killian! Glad to see you made it home in one piece,” she said as she loaded returned books onto a cart. “Before you ask, I’ve been looking, but I haven’t found any sign of that crystal at the pawn shop.”

“Wasn’t really expecting you to, love.” He took a deep breath, trying to feign optimism about the task that lay ahead of them. “We’ll find some other way.”

Belle’s lips flattened out in an attempt at a smile. “I hope so. Was it a good trip otherwise?”

“For the most part,” he said.

“‘For the most part?’” Her head tilted to the side as she regarded him. “I was hoping for your sake it would be a bit romantic, at least.”

Killian wasn’t sure what to say to Belle. There was a lot of unfortunate history between them, and much he had to be ashamed of. If their alliance was growing into a friendship, what was appropriate to share with a platonic female friend who was grieving a heartbreaking betrayal so recently?

“It was.” He reached for something innocuous to tell her. “She took me dancing at some sort of club; quite different from the balls in the Enchanted Forest.”

Belle laughed. “I bet it was.” She started to turn back to her books, but seemed to think better of it. “Are you okay? You seem a little bit down.”

“I’m not, I’m… I don’t know.” Belle just watched him, waiting. “We quarreled while we were there, and although in the end she forgave me quite easily, it left me feeling disconcerted.”

“It’s normal for couples to argue, Killian.”

“I know. It’s not the fact that we argued, it’s what it made me realize about myself.”

Belle came out from behind the circulation desk to stand nearer to him. “And what’s that?”

“I spent centuries only motivated by a quest for vengeance. And then I met Emma, and she… it was like she filled up all the broken places inside me. Revenge no longer drove me, or so I thought.”

“But?”

“I shouldn’t be talking to you about this, love. The last thing you need is to be burdened with my dark musings.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.

Belle was unimpressed with his angst. “Just tell me.”

“There was a moment in New York, after we realized that Gold had stolen the crystal, that I swear if he had been standing in front of me, I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him right then and there.” He sighed. “It made me wonder if I’m no better than I was. If perhaps there’s some dark part of me, some weak part that I’ve tried to bury, for whom Emma is just a distraction.”

If he expected Belle to flinch or shy away, she didn’t. “We all have darkness, Killian. It’s just a matter of whether you allow it to rule you.”

“Some of us have more darkness than others.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded. “But do you know what I think? I see the capacity for a lot of good in you. I see a lot of kindness. You just have to put your faith in the man you know you want to be, not in the man you fear you are.”

~*~

Emma sat across from Henry in the diner booth at Granny’s and watched as he dug into his huge piece of chocolate cake.

“How’s the cake, kiddo?”

“Fine.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t have to buy me cake just because you were out of town for a few days, you know.”

“I didn’t buy it because of that… mostly.” She shrugged. “I felt a little guilty for leaving you behind, that’s all.”

“I told you, I get it. I mean, I don’t get it in the sense that I don’t really understand romantic stuff. But I get it.” He took another overly large bite, chewed, and swallowed. “So you think the crystal you guys were looking for is gone forever?”

“Probably. Belle can’t find it, so either Gold destroyed it or he took it with him. But I’m sure Belle and Killian will find another way to get the fairies out of that hat,” she assured him.

“Yeah.”

In fact, Killian and Belle had redoubled their research efforts, and she’d seen little of him since they returned to Storybrooke. Emma’s mind drifted back to the last morning in New York, the way Killian had woken her gently by tracing a finger over the top of her hand where it rested between them on the bed. Even though he woke up at the crack of dawn, it had been nice, waking up together. Now they were back to stolen moments wedged in between all of their obligations.

“Do you think you and Hook are gonna move in together?” Henry mumbled, his mouth full of chocolate.

Emma almost spit her cocoa out, and she had to overcome a coughing fit before she could respond. “What? No. What?”

“Mom, it’s not that crazy. He’s staying at Granny’s, you’re crammed in with grandma and granddad and the baby.”

“Yeah, but that’s not a reason to move in together.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Obviously, but also you’re dating.”

Emma allowed herself to picture it. Him being the last person she saw before she closed her eyes every night and the first person she saw when she woke up. His toothbrush next to hers in the bathroom, his rather terrifying straight razor beside the sink. Perhaps occasionally beckoning him into the shower like she had on that final morning in the hotel, their hands on each other slippery with soap, then her back pressed against the cold tile, Killian dropping to his knees and encouraging her to prop one leg up on his shoulder...

Shaking herself, Emma picked up her ice water and took a sip. “It’s way too soon to move in together.”

With a shrug, Henry dug into his cake again. “Okay.”

“But just hypothetically…” Emma said. “If, far in the future, we did move in together… you’d be okay with that? You wouldn’t mind?”

“If I mope about it, will you buy me more cake?”

“Henry, be serious.”

Henry looked up and seemed to consider it. “I don’t know. I like Hook, but it would be weird.”

“Too weird?”

He shrugged again. “Ask me again when the idea doesn’t make you spit your cocoa on me, I guess.”

“I didn’t—” Emma stopped her protestation and nodded. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

~*~

Pulling out his mobile telephone, Killian saw that an unfamiliar number was ringing him. Of course, other than Emma and now Belle, all numbers were unfamiliar. He pressed the Talk button and held it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Hook, it’s Mary Margaret,” Snow said. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over to the loft and have lunch with me today.”

He gaped a bit like a fish out of water. “To what do I owe the honor, milady?”

“Settle down, I’m not inviting you to a royal ball, it’s just lunch.”

“In that event, I will forego any formal attire and would be happy to accept.”

A couple of hours later he was knocking nervously on the door of the Charmings’ apartment, wondering how bad, on a scale from understated disapproval to banishment, Snow White’s ulterior motive was for summoning him to eat a meal with her.

“Come in,” he heard Snow call, so he opened the door and walked into the sunny space.

She was stirring something in a large stew pot on stove. “Make yourself at home; this should be ready soon. How are you, Hook?”

Killian busied himself with hanging his jacket up. “I’m well. And yourself?”

She sighed. "Neal is teething and waking us up at all hours, but I’m fine otherwise. He’s napping now,” she explained.

Killian walked over the breakfast bar and sat on one of the stools. “At least the lad is healthy, yes?”

“Oh, yeah. We just had a checkup with the doctor last week and he’s doing great.”

“Glad to hear it.”

A silence settled between them as Snow busied herself returning spices to her spice cabinet and tidying up the kitchen. “I’ve hardly seen you since you and Emma got back from your trip.”

“I’ve been spending much of my time in the library, trying to find another solution to free those that the Dark One imprisoned.”

She tilted her head at him. “You do look tired. I hope you aren’t working too hard.”

“Poring over old manuscripts is tedious and frustrating, but I wouldn’t call it hard work. I spent many a year on my ship demanding hard work of sailors, and before that having it demanded of me. The gentleman’s labor of library research is easy by comparison.”

“You always worked on ships?”

“Aye, from the time I was a boy. My brother Liam and I were indentured from a young age. Once Liam was able to buy our freedom…” He clenched his jaw, shoving his shameful memories of that time aside. “Long story short, we were able to join the Royal Navy.”

“Ah, that must be where your education and manners come from,” Snow said, seemingly delighted at this new piece of the Captain Hook puzzle. “I always thought you seemed very well-spoken for a pirate — when you chose to be, anyway.”

“I certainly have the Navy to thank for any formal education. I've also had a lot of years since in which to catch up on my reading.”

“I suppose that's true,” she said with a chuckle, checking the contents of her stew pot.

Killian cleared his throat. “It probably won’t surprise you to know that I was trepidatious about your lunch invitation.”

“What, did you think I was bringing you here to order you to keep your hands off my daughter?” she said with a laugh.

“The thought did occur.”

Snow rolled her eyes. “It’s a little late for that, and it’s not like I have any say in who Emma dates, and what gave you the idea I disapproved of the two of you anyway?”

He flushed, looking down at the countertop. “It sort of stands to reason.”

“Well, relax. I have no intention of issuing any royal proclamations when it comes to Emma’s love life. I swear my only motivation in inviting you here was to feed you a home-cooked meal, because I would imagine those have been in short supply for you lately. Or maybe always?” Snow said as she ladled stew into a bowl. “I’m trying to duplicate a fish stew that our royal cook used to serve when I was a girl, and I figured who better to taste-test it than our local pirate?”

Killian grinned. “In that case, I am at your service.”

“Good,” she said, putting the bowl in front of him. “Let it cool off a little before you try it.”

Stirring the hot stew with his spoon, Killian let the steam warm his face. “You were right that home-cooked meals have been a rare luxury in my life. My father could barely be bothered to put any kind of food in front of us most of the time.”

“And your mother?”

He swallowed. “I never knew my mother.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Killian shrugged. “You can’t miss what you’ve never had,” he said, knowing it was untrue even as the words came out of his mouth. He took a bite of the stew, savoring the flavors of it. “This is delicious. Best thing I’ve had since I came to this realm.”

“You’re just saying that,” Snow said, blushing faintly. “Although you are welcome to eat with us any time if it comes with such lovely compliments.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It’s not an imposition.” She sat next to him with her own bowl. “You know, I’ve watched you work to be a better man and to win my daughter’s heart. I’ve watched you learning to live in this realm, and I’m sure it’s harder for you than you let on most of the time. But there’s one more thing that I’m going to insist that you also learn to live with.”

“What’s that?”

Snow reached out and put her hand over his hook where it was resting on top of the table. “Family.”

~*~

Emma pulled her sweater off over her head, her hair collecting static and briefly sticking up in all directions. “We have half an hour before my parents get back.”

Killian’s hand froze as he pulled the end of his belt back to unbuckle it, and Emma’s gaze dragged down from his kiss-bruised lips and zeroed in on the bulge in his jeans. “That’s cutting it rather close; are you sure about this?”

She rucked her own pants down her legs, sitting down on her bed in the loft to remove them. “Am I sure I need to get laid right now? Absolutely. It’s been almost a week and I am willing to risk it.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one that your father will lock in the town jail at best if they walk in on us.” Nonetheless, he continued efficiently removing his clothes. His nimble fingers working the buttons of his shirt and revealing more and more of his chest was stupidly mesmerizing, and she took a few seconds to watch him work.

“Just keep an ear out for the door downstairs and it’ll be fine,” she said as she reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. She let it slide down her arms before she tossed it away.

“Stop,” Killian said as her hands went to her hips to pull her underwear off. “Let me.” His warm fingers on one side and his hook on the other, he slowly slid the fabric down her legs, and Emma couldn’t help but shiver at the raw desire she saw in his eyes.

They got under the covers together and he pressed her down into the mattress and God, she was so turned on she hardly would’ve cared if the whole town walked in on them. She writhed underneath him, letting her legs fall open and shamelessly grinding against his erection. As Killian leaned down to kiss her, the muffled sound of her cell phone ringing reached her ears.

“Ignore it,” she mumbled against his mouth before he suggested otherwise.

“I was planning on it.”

The ringing stopped, and then almost immediately started again.

“God dammit,” Emma groaned, pushing Killian off of her and fumbling beside the bed for her jeans. She pulled the phone from her pocket and answered the call. “Hello?” she said impatiently.

“Mom, did I leave my 3DS at the loft?”

She sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Henry, I haven’t seen it.”

“Can you look for it?”

Killian’s mouth descended on her collarbone, his teeth teasing her skin. “Not right now,” Emma said through clenched teeth. “I’ll look later, and I’ll bring it to Regina’s if I find it, okay?”

“Thanks!”

“Sorry about that.” She tossed the phone onto the bedside table and reached down to close her hand around his cock, making him gasp.

His hips flexed, his erection sliding through her fist. “On second thought, I fear half an hour may be an optimistic assessment of my prowess tonight, love. I feel like I haven’t made love to you in an age.”

“Same here.” His hand slipped between her legs and it was Emma’s turn to gasp. “Fuck, just get inside me, I don’t need foreplay,” she gritted.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Emma wrapped her legs around his waist and he lined himself up and pushed into her, making both of them moan. “By all the gods, you feel unbelievable,” he said against her mouth. He started a quick rhythm, his pelvis grinding against hers at the apex of every thrust, and he felt so good, so good…

Emma’s phone rang again, and this time the ringtone told her it was a forwarded call from the sheriff’s station.

“Don’t you dare answer that,” Killian said.

“I have to, it might be an emergency.” She reached over and grabbed for her phone, almost dropping it before she managed to answer the call.

“Sheriff,” she said, trying to school her voice to neutral. Killian stilled, but the sensation of him inside her was quite distracting.

“We’ve got a problem, sister.”

Emma almost laughed out loud. Of course it was Grumpy. Of course. “What can I do for you, Leroy?” Killian collapsed against her, whispering swears into the crook of her neck.

“Grand larceny is what’s going on. I had some very valuable ... vintage magazines in a box in our garage, and the box has been stolen.”

“Vintage magazines?” Emma groaned, not a little bit because of the way Killian’s tongue was running along her skin. She had never been so simultaneously aroused and disgusted in her life, assuming ‘vintage magazines’ meant what she thought it did.

“That’s what I said. Vintage magazines.”

Without really meaning to, Emma flexed her pelvic muscles, squeezing Killian from the inside. He groaned softly into her ear. “I can come out and take a look first thing tomorrow morning,” she said into the phone, her other hand coming up to stroke Killian’s hair.

“The trail will be cold by then! You need to come take a look now!”

I’m with my boyfriend, she was tempted to respond, and he is literally inside me while I’m talking to you. Imagining the look on Grumpy’s face in reaction to such a proclamation made her bite her lip to keep from laughing. Instead she said, “Are you sure one of your brothers didn’t just borrow them?”

The line went silent, and this time when Emma flexed her pelvic muscles, it was entirely on purpose. Killian whimpered and moved inside her, like he couldn’t help it. She shivered as she felt his teeth scrape against her neck.

“Happy! Did you take my magazines from the garage?!” Emma winced and held the phone away from her ear. If Grumpy was covering up the phone speaker to shout at his brother, he was not doing a very good job. Her other hand left Killian’s hair and scratched down the firm plane of his back.

There was a muffled response that Emma couldn’t make out through the phone, and then Grumpy said, “Sorry to bother you, Sheriff,” before abruptly disconnecting the call.

Emma let her hand drop and the phone fall out of it onto the rug. “Sorry again.”

“You are a vile temptress,” Killian responded, pistoning his hips. His thrusts picked up speed, his hot breath panting out against her neck, and it felt wonderful, but Emma had lost the pleasurable momentum that had been driving her forward. Figuring they didn’t have time to slow down and get her back in the mood, she made all the right noises, encouraging Killian until he spilled inside her with a pained groan.

After a few seconds, he lifted his head and regarded her. “You didn’t orgasm, did you?”

She gave him a half-smile. “Strangely, Leroy’s voice in my ear talking about his missing porn was not the turn-on you might think. Don't worry about it.”

He slid out of her, settling at her side. “But you were so… hungry for it a moment ago.” His hand trailed down her stomach, his voice velvety as he enunciated each word.

“I know, but now I...” She stopped talking as his fingers slid inside her, her head tilting backwards on the pillow. The sensation of their combined fluids coating his fingers was strangely arousing, and she gasped as he used his thumb to circle her clit.

“Yes... Killian…”

“That’s it, my love. Let me see you come.”

She moved her pelvis in time with his fingers, closing her eyes and focusing on the sparks of pleasure he was creating, reaching and climbing and there, she was almost there, almost—

Emma came with a soft moan, squeezing her eyes shut and allowing the pulsing ecstasy to wash over her. She gradually relaxed every muscle in her body, letting go of his shoulder where she had been gripping it, her hand dropping to the bed.

“That’s better,” Killian said, a smug smile on his face. His hand dragged across her thigh, and she was a mess and the sheets were definitely going to have to go in the laundry, but all she could do was meet his smile with one of her own.

The door downstairs opened. “Emma, we’re home!” her mother called.

“Okay, I’ll be down in a minute!” she yelled back, pressing a finger to her lips and staring wide-eyed at Killian.

They did their best to clean up and dress as quietly as possible, Emma quickly running a brush through her hair as Killian buttoned his shirt and vest. Baby Neal was downstairs screeching at random intervals, which she hoped was distracting her parents from wondering what she was up to. Even so, it felt ludicrously obvious what they had been doing as the two of them descended the stairs to the main part of the loft. David certainly seemed to find it obvious, narrowing his eyes at them and glaring.

Killian kept his distance from her parents, bidding them a polite good evening before he made his excuses and turned to leave. Emma followed, pulling the door closed and giving him a sheepish smile.

“Sorry about that.”

“Not to worry. Tell your father to give me a few days to get my affairs in order before the execution.”

“We can stay at your place tomorrow if you want,” Emma said with a chuckle.

He put his arms around her, pulling her close. “Can we fall asleep together?” he asked, his voice soft and vulnerable. “I find I don't sleep half as well when you aren't with me.”

“Yeah.” She kissed his lips, his cheek, his ear. “Sure we can.” Pulling out of the hug and taking hold of his hook, she added. “Let me know if you come across any other magical items in Belle’s books that are in any far off locations. Chicago, maybe? L.A.? I hear Paris is nice.”

“Anywhere you want to go, Swan, I will be at your side if you’ll have me.”

Happiness swelling in her chest, Emma smiled. “I think I’ll have you.”

END

#cs ff #captain swan #cs smut #my fic #another nyc serenade

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accebermoon · 8 years ago

Text

The Things We Do for Cats

AN: A response to the prompt “Hello we are full grown adults fighting over this last balloon that’s shaped like a cats head,” because I’m getting excited about S4 :)

There was only so much popcorn, fairy floss, screaming children and flashing lights Clarke could take in one day. Sure, she loved her goddaughter and would do anything for her, but honestly just heading back to her apartment and chucking on some Disney movie on Netflix to entertain Rosalind seemed like a much better option than hanging around some dusty park with subpar rides and limited seating. However, the small child she was looking after for the day had the determination of her mother, and there was no woman Clarke had ever met more determined than Raven Reyes. Rosalind’s mind was firmly set on staying for the 9pm fireworks, which Clarke was sure would be cancelled due to the imminent rain storm looming.

They had done the teacup ride. They had consumed Rosalind’s body weight in sugar. They had played the game where you fish for floating rubber ducks. They had had their faces painted (Clarke with a small Princess crown, and Rosalind with a silver sparkly wrench). But after having to tear down a bully middle aged man who had pushed in front of Clarke at the mile-long line for the drinking fountain, she decided enough was enough.

“Come on, Rosie. I promise we can get pizza and ice-cream on the way back home, and then we can watch Cars and paint our nails! Doesn’t that sound great?” Clarke remarked to her goddaughter, plastering a smile on her face but unable to disguise a hint of desperation in her voice.

“Nope! We’re staying for fireworks.” Rosalind replied firmly. Clearly, reasoning with a stubborn five-year-old was going to be harder than Clarke thought.

From the corner of her eye, Clarke glanced at a balloon stand a couple of metres away. In the middle of a rainbow, helium filled cluster of balloons, there was one in particular that caught her attention: a black cat with blue eyes and a head in the shape of a football – an exact replica of Berlioz, Rosalind’s favourite character from the Aristocats.

The Aristocats, for some unknown reason, had been Rosalind’s favourite movie for the past six months. She had dragged Clarke down to the beanbag in her living room a countless number of times to watch the Disney classic, to the point where Clarke had just had to put her foot down and refuse to watch it again.

“Rosie, have I ever told you how intelligent, mature, and sophisticated you are? You know, I can basically treat you the same way that I treat other adults, you’re so smart. And you know what grown ups do? They negotiate, and they compromise.”

In response to comment, Rosalind crossed her arms, narrowed her eyes and raised one eyebrow. She truly did have remarkable insight for a five-year-old, and knew that her godmother’s comments had their seed planted in scheming. But she stayed silent, waiting for Clarke to continue, interested in what was on offer.

“How about I buy you that balloon over there, the one that looks exactly like Berlioz! Then, when we go home, which we will do as soon as possible, we can watch the Aristocats. How does that sound?”

Rosie pursed her lips and twisted them in contemplation. The blonde had laid a decent offer on the table.

“Hmm… Well… I guess that’s fair. But you have to promise we’ll get pizza!” Rosalind replied.

With a glance up to the sky, Clarke released a sigh of relief, thanking any deity who had given her the luck to successfully negotiate with the likes of Rosalind Jaha. “Excellent, it’s a plan,” she smiled, reaching down to take Rosie’s small hand and lead her to the balloon stand.

There was no line when they arrived at the stall. Clarke pulled out some cash from her pocket and smiled at the girl selling the balloons, who with a dishevelled uniform and untidy looked like she was ready to check out, go home, and never return to the carnival again. “I’d like to take the cat balloon, please,” Clarke smiled.

“Oh.” The lady stated in a monotone voice. “Yeah… That umm… Might be difficult…”

“Difficult? Why the heck is it difficult, just take my cash, grab the balloon, and we can both be done for the day.”

“Well –“

“It’s difficult because I’ve already bought it.” A deep voice chimed in from behind her. Clarke turned around with a scowl. She was at the end of her tether, and really did not have the energy to deal with another asshole. She inhaled sharply in surprise when she saw who had spoken. She was expecting some middle aged straight white man similar to the one at water fountain, thinking he owned the world simply by existing.

But no, that was not what she saw. Instead, there stood a guy just slightly taller than her and about her age, with dark tousled hair, eyes to match, and freckles that resembled speckles of chocolate. Oh, and a scowl to match, if not trump, her own.

“Is that so? Then why is it still there, floating above a sign saying ‘balloons for sale,’ hmm?” Clarke questioned with a raised eyebrow and a hand on her hip.

“Well, Princess,” he drawled sarcastically, glancing down at the tiara on Clarke’s cheek, “I just had to grab some cash. But I assure you, that balloon is mine.”

“Are you kidding me? You can’t reserve balloons. Use your eyes and note that I am currently at the front of the line, with the correct amount of money, buying the balloon that is clearly for sale. I assure you, that balloon is mine,” Clarke spat out, irritated.

“Nope, no way. There is no way I’m going to let you walk away with that balloon,” the man responded with conviction.

“So you’re telling me you’re a full grown adult who is willing to fight another full grown adult over some stupid cat balloon?”

“I’m not the one with a pink glittery tiara on my face, Princess.”

“There’s nothing wrong with pink glittery tiaras and I deplore the suggestion that it downgrades my maturity! You’re just being petty and argumentative. Seriously, who peed in your Cheerios this morning?”

“Clarkey, don’t worry about it. We can just go, I don’t care about the balloons or the fireworks,” a tiny voice whispered from where Rosalind had hidden behind Clarke’s legs, disconcerted by the conflict.

“Sh –” The scowl on the man’s face melted away as he noted the caramel skinned child. “Sugar. I didn’t realise. I thought – ” His expression transformed into one of guilt, he was clearly coming to the realisation that the balloon was not, in fact, for Clarke herself.

Clarke just raised her eyebrow even further

“Were you the one wanting the balloon?” The man’s voice became softer, calming, as he crouched down to the level of the five-year-old.

Rosalind nods shyly, emerging from behind Clarke’s legs.

“Well, you have excellent taste. My favourite girl in the world loves black cats. She’s away travelling through Europe right now, so I kind of miss her. She’s left her kitten for me to look after, and it’s favourite thing to do is play with balloons, so I thought I’d record a video of her kitten playing with the balloon and send it to her. But clearly you will take care of the balloon a million times better than me, so I reckon it’s best you take it home.”

Rosalind looked up from the spot she was staring at on the ground, glancing through her eyebrows at the guy. She nodded and said “Ok,” while Clarke handed her money to the exasperated sales person in exchange for the Berlioz balloon.

Clarke grabbed Rosie’s hand and started to walk away, but a warm and broad hand on her forearm stopped her.

“Wait, I should probably apologise.” It was the belligerent man who had stopped her, who was now looked rightfully sheepish.

“Probably?” Clarke replied sarcastically.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ve been having a crappy day. I work in the VIP tent, in catering.” Well that explains the formal attire, Clarke thought, in reference to the form fitting white button down and black pants the man was wearing. “And I swear, those trophy wives are vicious.”

“Tell me about it,” Clarke said. She glanced down at the nametag the guy was wearing, Bellamy, it said. Realising what this Bellamy had had to deal with from years of being forced by her mother to attend ‘upper class’ functions, she began to understand his irritated mood. “I unfortunately know the crappiness of those types of things all too well. Realistically, I guess I’m impressed you’ve not completely lost your faith in human beings. I would be if I had to do your job.”

It was at that moment that a crack of thunder came from the clouds and Clarke smelt the familiar scent of approaching rain.

“Great, now to top it all off, I’m going to get soaked on the walk to my car,” Bellamy muttered under his breath. And then the rain started. “I better get going, the staff car park is miles away. So, again, I am honestly, really sorry for being an idiot. I hope you and your daughter –“

“Goddaughter,” Clarke quickly corrected him, unsure as to why she was so keen to establish this fact. Well, not completely unsure. Her painful singledom and the guy’s undeniable attractiveness were obviously messing around with her.

“Oh. Ok. Well, I hope you both take good care of the balloon for me.” Bellamy said, with a small smile that revealed some dimples in his cheeks, which Clarke suddenly had an inexplicable urge to kiss.

She sighed, finding it hard not to take pity on the guy who was about to get drenched, even if he had been an idiot. “Look, my car’s not far away. If you share your umbrella, we can go to my car and I’ll give you a lift to yours.”

“Really, you’re just going to help our a stranger who’s been nothing more than an idiot to you?”

“Well, you’re not really a stranger anymore, Bellamy,” Clarke said while looking pointedly down at his nametag. “I’m Clarke, by the way, and this is Rosalind.” Her goddaughter gave a small wave.

“Nice to meet you both,” Bellamy said while setting up his umbrella for the walk. Clarke was surprised to see a detailed illustration on the umbrella of what appeared to be gladiators.

They marched in silence for a minute or two, Rosalind holding Clarke’s hand and receiving the majority of protection from the rain, walking directly under the umbrella sandwiched between the two adults. “So what’s the story with the gladiators?” Clarke asked, never having been very comfortable with silences.

“Oh… Uh… I’m kind of what my friends would describe as a ‘history nerd��. I’m actually doing my PhD in it at the moment.”

“Wow, cool. I always enjoyed history at school, but was more a political studies girl myself.”

They again reached a silence, but now instead of being awkward, it felt comfortable. They continued on cuddled under the umbrella, the beat of their feet synchronised.

“So, this girl in Europe, is she your girlfriend?” Clarke tried to stop herself but the words just flew out of her mouth before she could. Smooth, obviously not fishing for information at all, she thought to herself.

“No. Sister.” Bellamy looked wistful. “She graduated from college and decided to go ‘find herself’ in Europe.”

“You miss her,” Clarke stated. It was written all over his face.

“Like crazy. And my best friend’s just followed his boyfriend to some amazing job opportunity across the other side of the country, and my social circle and sort of disappeared, so I guess I’m a bit…”

“Lonely?” Clarke cuts in.

“Yeah,” he softly agrees. “Possibly explains why I’m acting like an idiot, and then going and venting stupidly to the pretty girl who I was an idiot to.” Bellamy continues, looking down ashamedly. Clarke’s mouth formed an O at his description of her, then slowly melted into a small grin.

Clarke had expected the car ride to be full of uncomfortable silences, but was more than happy to be proved wrong. Conversation actually came easily. Clarke told Bellamy about the coffee shop where some of her art pieces were on display, and Bellamy told Clarke all about his sister, Octavia, and how he had basically raised her, and Rosalind told everyone about the mega awesome dinosaur robot she and her mum were building. So Clarke actually found herself feeling disappointed when Bellamy interrupted their conversation to say “My car’s just here, to the right.”

After Clarke pulled up next to Bellamy’s car, neither of them seemed to be in any rush to move.

“Well, I better get going. Thanks for the lift, and really, sorry again for being an ass,” Bellamy finally said.

“Wait just a moment,” Clarke stopped Bellamy and was met with an inquisitive look. She fumbled around until she found an old gas station receipt and a pen, and scribbled her number on it before handing it to Bellamy with a shy smile.

“What’s this?”

“In case you can’t find anyone to replace your so-called social circle. Seems like you’re kind of an asshole when you’re lonely, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for letting you continue like that. Besides, I might want company to watch the Aristocats.” Clarke smirked.

“Are you inviting me to Netflix and chill, Clarke?” Bellamy returned Clarke’s smirk in full force, cocking an eyebrow suggestively. It was amazing the comparison between this man with a sinful look on his face and the one who was crouching down earlier, spilling his heart out to a five-year-old. An amazing comparison, and one Clarke wouldn’t mind seeing more of.

“We’ll see.”

“I guess we will.”

#the 100 fanfiction #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 fanfic #the 100 #bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #mine #bellarke whatsapp chat #my writing

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