save-my-day

OKAY so let’s be clear here… Bellamy’s entire arc this season has been about finding his own self-worth. He’s been trying to figure out why he deserves to live after all he’s done. He didn’t want to be inside. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved, he said. But with that scene, he decides he’s going to live because Clarke Griffin “died” for him. He meant that much to her. He owes his life to her so he will live for her. Bellamy Blake finally found his self worth because he was loved.

Imagine...Borrowing Dean’s Shirt

Originally posted by irishkhaleesi26

Pairing: Dean x reader


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anonymous asked:

omg a bellarke fic where they take a 'business shower' (urban dictionary it; it's platonic af) and they think it's normal but everyone else is like wtf this isn't normal

business shower: an intimate shower taken between 2 persons solely for the purpose of saving time aka truly the most blarke like thing to exist

wc: 3.8k | rated m

read on ao3 here

Despite everyone saying otherwise, Bellamy is actually a pretty good roommate.

Clarke moved in with him a few months ago and, according to all of their friends, it was going to end in disaster. She’s pretty sure Jasper even went as far as to say that they might kill each other which was a little insulting.

The thing is, she knows how her relationship with Bellamy looks to the average outsider. They fight and bicker and argue about everything. There’s nothing she can say or do without him getting on her case, and she knows that it’s probably the same for her too. They like arguing with each other. That’s just their thing. She doesn’t know why it’s so hard for their friends to understand that.

But fights aside, Bellamy is a good roommate.

He always takes out the trash on time and is considerate enough to pick up a carton of her soy milk whenever he realises she’s running low and he actually likes doing the dishes which almost made Clarke weep with joy when she first found out. Sure, they’re not perfect by any means- he has a bad habit of leaving the toilet seat up and she never remembers to clear her hair out of the shower drain- but he’s still one of the best people she’s ever lived with.

And then school starts back in the fall.

She knows that Bellamy is a high school history teacher, but it was never really one of those things that ever came up between them. When she moved in, it was July, meaning school was out and he was on break. Clarke keeps an eight to four job at the free clinic in the city so she got used to not seeing him in the morning. She would leave coffee in the pot for whenever he finally rolled out of bed, and he would already start prepping for dinner by the time she stumbled back in and collapsed on the couch.

They have a system. She’s gotten used to their pattern.

So when she wakes up on Monday, she stops dead at the sight of him puttering around the kitchen, still soft and sleep hazey in his pyjamas, his glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose.

“Morning,” he says when he finally notices her standing in the doorway.

It jerks her out of her stupor and she grunts in return. He already has the Keurig up and running so she settles on grabbing a few snacks for work. She chucks a granola bar and an apple in the oversized tote she loves so much for breakfast and she’s deciding whether she’ll head to the cafe down the street for lunch or drag herself down to the cafeteria for shitty hospital food when Bellamy throws one of the sandwiches he made at her.

It almost hits her square in the face and she fumbles to catch it.

“That’s lunch,” he says, ignoring her huff. He finally glances up at her. “You’re welcome, princess.”

Clarke pulls a wry face and shoves it in her bag too, feeling a bit warm inside. “Thanks.”

He just winks at her and rests his own foil wrapped sandwich next to his messenger bag. The warm feeling quickly dissipates when she sees him heading to the bathroom and she glances at the clock.

“Hey!” she calls out, scrambling after him. She manages to wedge her knee between the doorway before he could lock it shut and Bellamy lifts an eyebrow.

“What?”

“I need to shower,” she says, shouldering past him and slipping inside.

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