blah-de-blah-de-blah

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

Chapters: 7/10 Fandom: The 100 (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Abby Griffin, Luna (The 100), Anya (The 100) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, Online Relationship, Pandemics, Marriage Proposal, Marriage of Convenience, Clexa Week 2022 (The 100) Summary:

Starlight and star-crossed Take me so breathless We could be reckless Honey, let’s get married - Let’s Get Married, Bleachers

In the midst of a pandemic and under an increasingly oppressive government, Clarke feels like her life is crumbling. Her only escape is online, where she met Lexa, a fellow fan of her favorite show. Their friendship has grown beyond that, and Clarke doesn’t quite know what to do with Lexa’s concern about her, or the feelings Clarke is developing.

When Lexa proposes a possible solution, an escape from the life - and country - where Clarke struggles to imagine a future, she has a big decision to make.

For Clexa Week 2022 - Day 4 - Arranged Marriage

Also for Qvert, because of reasons.

Moodboard here

*

Chapter 7

Lexa hesitated. Even though this was all she wanted, everything she wanted, she hesitated. Because if she kissed Clarke, if she gave in to this thing that had been building between them for the past month, and for so much longer than that, really, how could she ever let her go? If she kissed her now, how could she face weeks or months or hell, years of not kissing her? How could—

How could she not, though? How could she look Clarke in the eye after hearing the words she’d longed to hear and deny her? How could she answer her plea to please, please kiss her in anything other than the affirmative?

Still, she had to ask. She had to know.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Clarke said. Fierce. Firm. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure of anything in m—”

—my life, Lexa was pretty sure she’d been about to say, but Clarke didn’t get the opportunity to finish the statement because Lexa’s mouth collided with hers, too fast and too hard, and then softer and slower and it was everything, everything Lexa had wanted, everything she’d ever allowed herself to dream and so much more. Clarke’s lips parted for her, deepening the kiss, the tip of her tongue flicking out to trace Lexa’s lower lip, then brushed against Lexa’s, sending a shudder through her as their bodies fit against each other in a hug tighter than they’d ever allowed themselves because, well…

“Really?” Lexa asked when they were finally forced to pull apart for want of oxygen. “This whole time?”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “Don’t put this all on me! You didn’t say anything either!”

“I know, but—”

“Uh-uh.” Clarke shook her head, her expression trying for stern, but it was belied by the sparkle of laughter in her eyes. “You do not get to pin this all on me, Lexa Woods.”

Lexa sighed, and grumbled, but she knew Clarke was right. They’d both held back on saying the thing that most needed to be said, and she was sure Clarke had her reasons just like Lexa, and it was possible some of them were even the same.

It didn’t matter now. Or, it did, but only because they could have had this the whole time they were together, instead of only for the last few minutes before they were forced to part. Lexa swallowed hard against the sudden lump that rose in her throat.

Read More

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

I hope you do not need to be told this but

DO NOT. EVER. PUT A SINGLE ONE OF MY FANFICS INTO CHATGPT OR ANY OTHER AI. EVER. NEVER EVER EVER PURPOSEFULLY FEED ANYTHING I HAVE CREATED INTO AI. NEVER.

If you do this, I will fucking haunt you every time you use the bathroom until you’re so scared to piss that you DIE OF INTERNAL PISS POISONING. This is what you will deserve if you help the evil internet steal my shit.

If you disagree with this, please unfollow me and stop reading my work, thank you very much.

feel free to reblog if this is true for you too.

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The 100 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Aden (The 100), Madi (The 100), Luna (The 100), Tris (The 100), Adria (The 100), Ethan Hardy (The 100), Otan (The 100), Anya (The 100), Raven Reyes (The 100) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Foster Care, Adoption Series: Part 21 of From the Mouths of Babes Summary:

Ten years later, a little girl looks out the window of the home she’s recently arrived in after losing the only home and family she’s ever known, and it’s suggested that maybe she goes outside. Across the street, another little girl decorates her driveway with sidewalk chalk…

The more things change, the more they stay the same as a family comes full-circle…

*

“…outside.”

Adria blinked, tearing her attention away from the window. Her gaze skittered over the other girl in the room – Tris, her name was Tris, Adria knew it even if she’d never said it – and landed instead on the painting of the ocean that adorned one of the walls. She’d seen the ocean once. They’d gone together, as a family, Mama and Papa and her. Before. When they were still a family. When they still were.

“…listening?”

She wasn’t. Listening.

She should listen. She knew she should. Tris was older than her. Tris was in charge. Not really, but sort of. Like a sister.

Adria had been a sister, almost. But then war had happened, far away until it wasn’t. War had happened, and Papa had disappeared, and then the baby and then Mama, and she was alone until she wasn’t, and she was home until she wasn’t, until she was here. Far from war, but also far from home, and far from who she’d been, and she had no idea who she was becoming.

This is your home now, she told herself in Mama’s voice. You must be a good girl. You must listen.

But even when I listen I don’t understand. It sounded whiny even in her own head.

You will learn, Mama said, or maybe Papa. You will learn, because you must learn. You’re a clever girl.

She didn’t feel clever. She felt lost, and alone, and scared. Of everything, all the time.

Give it time. You’ll find your way.

She didn’t want to. The only way I want to find is back to you.

Even though it was impossible, because they were dead. Not lost, not gone. Dead. Mama and Papa and the almost baby. They were never coming back.

We never left. We’re always with you.

It was a lie, but it was a good lie, so Adria let herself believe it.

But you must be good, and you must listen, and you must learn.

Adria sighed. She tried to make it quiet but it wasn’t. At all. It was long and it was loud and Adria wouldn’t have been surprised if it had ruffled Tris’ hair all the way across the room. It didn’t, quite, but it did make her blink, and then her mouth twitched and Adria expected it to open in a yell but what came out instead was a laugh.

Read More

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: The 100 (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Aden (The 100), Abby Griffin, Luna (The 100), Anya (The 100), Raven Reyes (The 100), Becca (The 100), Fox (The 100), Roma (The 100), Madi (The 100) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Foster Care, Adoption Series: Part 20 of From the Mouths of Babes Summary:

An out-of-the-blue call sets Clarke and Lexa’s family down a (somewhat) unexpected path.

*

Chapter 4

“They just… let us walk out of here?” Lexa asked, a frown furrowing a crease between her brows that had begun to etch itself permanently. “With a baby? Like we know what we’re doing?”

“That’s pretty much how it works, yeah,” Clarke said. “If it makes you feel any better, my mom said she had the same thought when she left the hospital with me, and she had a lot more time to get used to the idea.”

The corner of Lexa’s mouth quirked. “That does make me feel better, actually,” she said. “I just… what if we’re not ready?”

What Clarke knew she was really asking was, ‘What if we made a mistake?’ But they hadn’t. Clarke knew they hadn’t, and she knew Lexa knew it too. They only had to look at the sleeping face of their daughter, with her perfect rosebud mouth and her fluff of dark hair and her barely there eyebrows that went up and down as she dreamed of whatever babies dreamed of, to know that this had been the right decision. And it was nearly impossible to tear their eyes away from her, even when they were supposed to be paying attention to what the doctors and nurses were telling them.

“We’ll figure it out,” Clarke said, resting her hand on the small of Lexa’s back. “We always do.”

Lexa looked at her, her eyes soft in a way they were so rarely soft, and she smiled, which was a lot less rare these days but still felt like an accomplishment every single time. “We do, don’t we?” She double-checked the straps on the baby seat, making sure everything was secure and there was no chance of Madi slipping out. “Let’s do it.”

They walked past the room next door, the room Madi had been born in, and Clarke couldn’t help sneaking a glance, but it was empty. Roma must have been discharged already, which Clarke hoped was a good sign. She hoped wherever she was, she wasn’t alone, and that she would have all the support she needed to get her through this. It couldn’t be easy, even if was what she wanted, even if she was confident it was the right thing for her and for her baby. Clarke still didn’t know if suspicions about the relationship between Roma and Fox were correct, or if they might become correct at some point in the future, but even if she was completely off base, Fox was clearly a good friend and Clarke hoped she would continue to be for as long as Roma needed her.

She – they – would have liked to have talked to Roma again, to discuss what happened, what she wanted to have happen – in the future. They were comfortable with the idea of an open adoption. They’d done plenty of reading (maybe too much) and in general it was the best, healthiest approach. But when they’d asked (through their caseworker because boundaries) Roma hadn’t wanted to see them. She said she wanted to make a clean break of it, and they weren’t going to argue. In the end, they’d written a letter, and asked their caseworker to tell Roma that the letter would be left with the adoption agency. Even if she didn’t have regrets or second thoughts, her feelings might still change over time about what, if any, involvement she wanted to have in Madi’s life. The letter would be waiting for her if she did.

Read More

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

ALRIGHT FEMSLASHFEBLINGS bet you thought you'd seen the last of me, well, not so fast! here's next year's prompt list... with a twist. we're going EVIL, baby 💜

if you're new here, I do this every year!! can be any form of media, the only rule is to make it femslash (term is loose, whatever sapphic/GL/yuri content you want, throw 'em in the ring) and you can do as much or as little as you please. no series restrictions but please tag warnings appropriately. thanks and mwah mwah!

see you in february!

(full prompt list in text under the cut)

femslashfeb2024 (evil edition):

if only

please be gentle

your life is mine

doomed by the narrative

hands for holding

it still bleeds

come back soon

living dead

in the shadows

love is devotion

alternate timeline

karma

goddess

before you go

haunting

hourglass

weapons

once upon a time

partners-in-crime

chose violence

fantasy

anything for you

copycat

plagued by the horrors

your voice

apocalypse

diamond

made you smile

and then I found you

(p.s. no it doesn't have to be evil. take the prompts however you wish!)

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

Chapters: ¼ Fandom: The 100 (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Aden (The 100), Abby Griffin, Luna (The 100), Anya (The 100), Raven Reyes (The 100), Becca (The 100), Fox (The 100), Roma (The 100), Madi (The 100) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Foster Care, Adoption Series: Part 20 of From the Mouths of Babes Summary:

An out-of-the-blue call sets Clarke and Lexa’s family down a (somewhat) unexpected path.

*

“Yes, no, I understand,” Clarke said. “I appreciate you calling. You’ve given me – us – a lot to think about. I’ll talk with Lexa and let you know. Thanks, you too. Bye.”

She dropped her phone into her lap and her head into her hands. She’d told her boss she would only be a minute, but that had been… had it only been five minutes ago? It didn’t seem possible, given the conversation she’d just had. She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the tug on her scalp as they tangled in the even messier than usual bun.

I need a haircut, she thought, like she’d thought several times a week for the last several weeks. Months, actually. She kept meaning to make an appointment, and then something would come up and she would forget or lose the slot of free time she’d thought she was going to have, and… yeah. Life was chaotic and other things – and people – took priority, and she was crazy to even consider adding yet another complicating factor into her life, right?

And yet she was considering it.

“You know what? Fuck it.” Clarke unsnarled her fingers and left the little meeting room she’d shut herself in, striding down the hall to her boss’s office. The door was cracked, so she poked her head in. “I know it’s short notice, but I’m going to need the rest of the afternoon.”

Her boss looked up, startled. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine,” Clarke reassured her. “I don’t have any appointments; I was just going to catch up on paperwork but…”

“That’s fine,” her boss said. “You’re more caught up than I am.” She rolled her eyes and gestured to the stack of folders on her desk. “Enjoy the afternoon.” She looked at Clarke again, catching her gaze and holding it. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here,” she said. “Doesn’t have to be work-related.”

“Thanks,” Clarke said. “I appreciate it.” And maybe I’ll take you up on that at some point, but first I need to talk to my wife.

But before that, she was getting a damn haircut.

Read More

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

Clexaweek2024 ~ a free for all~

This year for Clexaweek, rather than assigning themes to the days, it's a free for all. Post whatever you want! Create something new, or update a Work in Progress. Share and support each other's work, leave comments, share fic recs and reblog your favorite art. Post on March 3rd!

If you would like to make something new and want a theme - you can send me an ask for a prompt idea, or feel free to check out years worth of prompts here.

Guidelines for posting here.

To view previous clexaweeks, here's a link.

Have a great 2024!

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

I have an idea for this...but I've also had Covid turning my brain to marshmallow this week. Recovering now, so maybe something in the coming days...

Day 1: Basically a Hallmark Movie

Hallmark movie vibes. Holiday feel-good movie feel. Romance, Christmas, fake dating, old flings, new flings, enemies to lovers.

#clexa

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

Medusa and The Blind Woman

Part I

~~~~~~◇~~~~~~~~~◇~~~~~~~~~◇~~~~~~

She crashes in on an easterly wave. 

One that threatens the bare spindles of a long dead port. The wind bites at stilts gnarled by sea salt and the negligence of time, threads of frayed twine whipping in retaliating lashes against the onslaught versus sturdy grecian wood. 

Lexa watches from on high, eyes on mastheads and white sails in the distance when she takes a moment to admire her only non-hissing companion, the sea. She stands an eagle in her nest of serpentine thorns, as the speck of a sailor draws near from the horizon, boat marching on the back of winds that carry it onward. The ocean howls of intruders long before they arrive, the swishing churn of embattled rip tides announcing the threat among rustled gusts and spits of algae foam. 

It's all become so painfully predictable. 

Lexa sighs at the sight of them marching on toward her fortress. 

A sinking weight floods her stomach, weary resignation presses heavy against her throat.

The grip of her spade reminds hers they mean nothing to her morning, to her unforgiving schedule that must be kept. What with the chill slipping through the cracks of a waning afternoon sun setting on the intruder's horizon. 

She doesn't bother to watch their approach further, instead keeping her thoughts to steady hands that churn earth and crumble stone, driving her blade against charcoal and turning it to soot. She checks her moorings to the west and fells a few fresh saplings for kindling. Nuisances in that particular corner of her nest of thorns, ones she's been waging a losing battle with for ages.

Her thoughts scatter like the seed and silt that pour through the calloused cracks of her fingers, wondering—

A sharp whine fills the air below, followed by a screech and crash of splintering wood. A thunderous boom echoes along the rockside loud enough to shake the very gravel under her feet followed by a full chested bellow.

"Gods damn it all!"

Lexa straightens from her work at the cry of anger, loud enough to have her dropping her tools where she stands. Loud enough to send a shiver across her scalp that hisses and spits its welcome in return. 

She slips past brambles and thickets of overgrowth. Moves between boulders and shrugging aside the hang of vine, winding her way to the edge of her oasis. The sweet scent of honeysuckle mixes with sea water as she moves close to the rocky ledge of the cliff shore. 

Careful to stay hidden, tucked neatly in the shadows, she lifts a few leaves on the tips of her finger to see her would be… captors…

Or. Captor.

The waters are littered with floating bits of dock and warped wood, now useless and broken into a thousand tiny shards that bob their way back out into the wild. 

In its place is a boat. 

A rather pathetic boat, Lexa notes at the feel of a nose nudging her cheek. A vessel of one lonely single seat, barely a rod for a mast, with two matching oars on each side. The sight of its paltry build makes her frown, her lips slackening in shock as she looks past the debris of the wreckage to the fleeing white sails receding into the burgeoning twilight distance. 

Another screeched caw from a circling bird above makes Lexa jump, ignoring the snap and hiss in her ear at the same time the air fills with a strained, "Oh shut up!"

Well.

This is certainly not what she had expected. 

Because…

She's blonde. 

Her apparent assassin is blonde. 

And a woman.  

Altogether a decidedly less muscular figure than Lexa had become accustomed to seeing her would-be heroes in the making that washed up on her shores. Not the type bearing rippling muscles, or the thuggish brawn born of beating one's own chest.

In fact, this assassin is downright dainty.  

~~~~~~◇~~~~~~~~~◇~~~~~~~~~◇~~~~~~

Read on AO3

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

This is Tumblr, so if it doesn't work as an ad, it can always do duty as a fic prompt.

most convincing Tumblr ad I've ever received. almost made me download whatever shitass dating app that is

#and now i have a plot bunny when i really didn't need one

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

Here’s hoping you and/or your followers can help me! I have been trying to find a Clexa fic for days now. It’s a second chance story where the whole gang is at Abby’s beach house to celebrate Linctavia’s upcoming wedding. Clarke said she wasn’t going to be there but ended up making it. Lexa is there already. She’s already put her stuff in Clarke’s room. Clarke assumes Costia is with her but they broke up. Clexa agree to share the room and Raven locks them in so they have to talk.

Does this sound at all familiar to anyone?

This sounds super familiar but I can’t think of what it is!

Anyone else?

#clexa #rings a bell #but can't place it

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

18. circus au + 64. star crossed lovers

Slow and low on a tightrope

The lions are sleeping when the girl stumbles into the tent.

It's late. Late enough Lexa's bones are aching, her hands trembling uncontrollably after hours upon days upon weeks of brandishing heavy whips. She's supposed to be cleaning and packing but instead she's dozing off where she leans against Roan's cage. The lion is curled up next to her, steady snores lulling Lexa deeper into slumber— until a deep growl disturbs the peace.

Lexa jolts awake, and her eyes open to immediately focus on someone slipping into the tent. It's a little girl with a fancy dress Lexa could never dream to afford, and golden hair that catches the low light.

The girl notices her at once, and freezes where she'd slipped in through the slit in the tent. Her eyes are bright, and widen when she registers Lexa staring at her.

"Hi," she whispers, cut off abruptly when Roan growls again. Her eyes grow even wider.

"Shh," Lexa tells the lion, reaching through the bars to pat his head and rub an ear. The girl watches, lips parted in awe.

Lexa recognizes this girl from the show. She'd sat in the front row, laughed hard at the clowns, clapped hard for the trapeze fliers, and gasped for the fire-jugglers. She'd looked starstruck when the lions jumped through rings of fire. Lexa had been so preoccupied with the girl's reactions that she'd almost missed her cue. Anya noticed, of course. She'd cuffed the back of Lexa's head the moment the act was over and they left the tent, and snapped out a reminder that one momentary lapse of attention could result in an injury to a lion, bite from a lion, or worse, a customer getting attacked.

Lexa didn't argue that she'd grown up with these lions and trusted them more than she trusted herself. Anya wouldn't hear it anyway. She only let Lexa be her second grudgingly; Anya was sixteen and Lexa was nine, and Anya insisted Lexa was too young to be training with them, but Becca allowed it. She had a soft spot for the lions herself.

"I like your lions," the little girl says, daring to take a step closer. "Could I— could I pet one?"

"You better not," Lexa says after considering it. "They don't know you."

Another step closer. "You could introduce us."

"I don't know you, either."

The girl just stood a few feet away now, her eyes shifting from the lions to Lexa, darting back and forth.

"I'm Clarke."

The girl looks expectantly at her. Lexa continues to just stand next to the cage, her arms uselessly hanging at her sides, her palms sweaty. She doesn't know why she feels like she's being cornered, somehow. But the girl is standing hardly a foot away, and Roan is sitting up, now, amber eyes keenly watching the interaction.

"I'm Lexa." Lexa swallows, confused by the lurch of her stomach when Clarke's lips curve in a bright smile. She blinks when Clarke offers a hand. Discreetly wipes her hand on her pants, hoping it cleans it of dirt and sweat before grasping Clarke's hand.

Clarke shakes it and then continues to hold it. Lexa looks at her with wide eyes.

"I thought your show was really good," Clarke says shyly.

They both blush. Clarke drops her hand, and Lexa clenches and unclenches it at her side a few times.

"Thanks," she finally manages.

"This is my first time ever at the circus."

"Really?" Lexa says curiously. She's been here for as long as she can remember. She can't imagine any other life. Emori— a girl a few years older than her, who joined their troupe just last year— said that normal life was really boring. "What do you do all day then?"

"School," Clarke smiles at her like the idea of anything else is silly.

"I know what school is," Lexa says quickly. "I get homeschooled here. I know math and everything."

Clarke just looks at her and smiles like Lexa is the most interesting thing in the world. Considering Lexa's standing next to a humongous lion, she can't help but to preen a little at that.

"Does your mother and father do circus stuff too?"

Lexa stills; Clarke notices, and the smile fades from her face. Lexa doesn't want it to. She likes her smile.

"I don't have parents," she says honestly. "I did have a mother when I was a baby, but she— she gave me to the circus."

Clarke's brows jump to her hairline. "She gave you to the circus?"

Lexa swallows around the lump that's suddenly in her throat. She shuffles back to put some distance between them, sitting back on the table next to the cage and hoping Clarke didn't notice her clumsily almost trip over her feet as she did so. But Clarke doesn't seem to get the hint, and only gives the lion a cursory glance before determinedly stepping toward Lexa.

"Do you think the circus would take me if my parents gave me?" she asks.

Lexa stares at her. Oh. So Clarke didn't think it was odd. She…

"You want to join the circus?" Saying the words aloud puts a strange flood of excitement in Lexa. She likes the idea of this girl being around. She's interesting. Lexa likes how blue her eyes are and the freckle above her lip. She likes that she doesn't look scared to stand near the lions, and that she wasn't afraid to sneak in here in the first place.

"Yes," Clarke says, zero hesitation and all enthusiasm.

A smile grows on Lexa's face, starting out crooked. "Everyone in the circus has a job," she says seriously. "So you gotta do something. What can you do?"

"I can draw really good," Clarke's head rises high, her shoulders back, confident. But Lexa wrinkles her nose.

"We already have good drawers here," she says apologetically. There were a few people that painted all the carts and signs; they didn't need anyone else. "What else can you do?"

Clarke chews on her bottom lip, eyes darting around as she thinks. "Um…I get good grades?"

"That wouldn't really be an act though," Lexa points out. "Anything else?"

Clarke lapses into silence, eyes downcast and brow furrowed, appearing troubled for the first time. Lexa bites her own lip, trying to think for her.

"Can you ride a unicycle?" she prompts. Clarke shakes her head. "Can you throw knives?"

"I could throw them," Clarke says hesitatingly, "But probably not very good."

"Can you swallow swords?"

"Definitely not. I can barely swallow broccoli." She exchanges a small smile with Lexa.

"Hmm. Can you swing on the trapeze?"

"I don't know how."

"Could you spin plates up on tall sticks?"

"Um, no, I'd probably drop them."

"Are you a contortionist?"

Clarke opens her mouth, and then frowns. "What's that?"

"It's," Lexa tries to bend her body to show her. "The people that can kinda fold themselves up in different ways. Like Roma. She can shoot a bow and arrow with her feet."

Frowning, Clarke takes a step back and drops to the floor. Lexa watches with raised brows as Clarke lays on her stomach and then tries to lift her legs; Clarke huffs, face screwed up as she tries to fold herself over. She slaps back down and huffs again, red-faced as she glances up at Lexa and sees her trying not to laugh. But rather than get mad, like Lexa worried for a split second, Clarke grins.

"That's a no," Clarke says good-naturedly.

"What about…" Lexa's scans the dim tent; she spots some bottles on the table near the lioness, Luna. She hops down and walks across the room to grab them, and carries them over to the table near Clarke. "What about juggling?"

Clarke stands and dusts her knees off; she doesn't seem particularly bothered that her nice white dress is now dirty from the floor. She grabs two bottles. Lexa sits back down on the table and watches as Clarke tosses the bottles in the air. She catches them all right, but when she tries to add a third bottle, her eyes grow wide and she scrambles, only just managing to catch them all before they could fall. She looks at Lexa, and Lexa looks back just as startled. Then they collapse in giggles.

"Can you do it?" Clarke asks her.

Lexa slides off the table to stand beside Clarke. Titus tried to teach her, once, but she could only juggle three wool balls. These are large bottles, but surprisingly, she manages to do it, and her heart pounds when Clarke starts cheering and clapping. Lexa catches all three bottles and bows, making Clarke laughs— and Lexa's heart just beats harder.

They play for a while together, Lexa trying to teach Clarke how to juggle and Clarke not being particularly great at it. Eventually they both try to be contortionists again, and laugh hard when they bang heads together. The lions sit quietly in their cages, watching them like it's their entertainment for the evening.

Later, after Lexa had pulled one of the leashes across the floor and they were giggling madly because Clarke found it difficult to even walk in a straight line on a flat surface, all the fun comes screeching to a halt when Anya arrives.

She freezes when she sees them, both on the floor in a heap and laughing after bumping into each other pretending to do tricks on a nonexistent tightrope. Lexa sobers at once under her glare.

"What are you doing?" Anya demands, marching over and hauling Lexa up by an arm. "It's not safe for her to be in here!"

"We didn't get close to the cages," Lexa begins, but Clarke speaks over her as she scrambles to her feet.

"It's not Lexa's fault, I came in here myself. I just wanted to see what was in here."

Anya crosses her arms under her chest, giving Clarke a withering look. "Do you see now?" she says sarcastically, nodding toward the nearest cage. "Dangerous beasts that could tear your face off with one swipe of their claws."

As if on purpose, Roan gives a yawn so huge his mane shivers, canines glinting in the light. Anya raises a brow at Clarke, as if to say, "see?"

"I wasn't gonna get close to them," Clarke says firmly— a bald-faced lie, considering the very first thing she'd asked Lexa was if she could pet one.

Anya looked at Clarke like she was ready to argue that, but then she rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Whatever, look. Your father's been looking all over the place for you. Come on."

Clarke deflates, shoulders sagging. But when she looks at Lexa, the smile crawls back across her face again.

"It was fun playing with you," she tells her. Her smile shifts into a cheeky grin. "Next time you come in town, I'll make sure I'm really good at something. Then maybe I can be in the circus with you!"

Anya looks a beat away from scoffing, and shoots Lexa a look that has Lexa's cheeks growing warm. She averts her gaze from Clarke's because it's too much suddenly, though she can't fight the smile worming its way onto her face even as she looks down at the floor.

"Bye, Clarke."

"Bye Lexa!"

Lexa stands motionless even after Anya leads Clarke out of the tent. There's a strange, floaty feeling inside her. She doesn't understand it. All she does know is that she can't wait to see Clarke again.

read more on ao3

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

35, 56 Clexa😊

35. bathtub au + 56. most awful first meeting

Somehow I wrote 4500 words of this shit? Don't ask me how because idk

//

It’s late.

Late enough Lexa can barely keep her eyes open. She blinks continuously, the sidewalk only just visible through half-mast lids, enough for her to shuffle forward, shoes scuffing, too tired to even walk properly.

In her defense, she’s been on the road for eighteen hours straight. A quick nap in a gas station parking lot didn’t exactly cut it. 

But she’s here now. Finally. 

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I’d love to carry all the bags.”

Lexa doesn’t even have the energy to sigh, much less respond to Anya. Her sister slept the last four hours straight, and only drove six hours out of the eighteen; meanwhile Lexa was blasting the AC in her face and cranking the music up, hyper-aware of her own exhaustion. The last hour was rough. She’d been close to calling it quits to be safe and finding the nearest motel, but that last pack of peanut M&Ms gave her the energy to make it.

Of course, the moment she pulled into the driveway of their Airbnb it hit her. All Lexa wants is to collapse onto a bed. She could grab her bags in the morning. Or Anya can suck it up. Lexa doesn’t care which.

She blindly paws at the door, and again a few more times when it doesn’t open. She squints down at the handle. Takes a step back and cracks her eyes open more to take in the door. Blue. A silver 214 stamped at the top. 

“It’s number 214, right?” Lexa says hoarsely.

“What?” Anya grunts as she reaches her, jerking her shoulder to let bags fall on the doorstep. 

“214. It’s locked.”

Anya reaches over to jiggle the handle. She huffs. “Locked.”

 Lexa gives her a droll look. “I said that. Are we at the right place?”

Anya digs her phone out of her pocket to pull up the booking. Lexa shifts her weight on her legs and waits, tipping her head against the door. She could probably fall asleep like this, standing here.

Apparently she nearly does, because suddenly she’s jolting awake when Anya says, “Yeah this is definitely it. The lady said the door should be unlocked. I’ll call her.”

Lexa sighs, settling her forehead on the door and closing her eyes again. She scowls at the jarring loud noise that breaks the silence. A drill? Construction work? It’s eight p.m. Who the hell does construction work at eight p.m?

Her moan is drowned out, both by the sound of the drilling and hammering, and Anya’s raised voice as she speaks to the owner on the phone. 

Silence falls again, long enough for Lexa to hear Anya tell her the woman is on her way as she slips her phone back into her pocket. 

Lexa doesn’t even muster a grunt. She doesn’t know or care what Anya is doing; she might be sitting down on the stoop. After a second, the drilling starts up again, and Lexa has to fight to resist the urge to release a pathetic whimper. Anya would never let her forget it. 

She definitely sleeps standing up against the door, because it feels like only a second later Anya is whacking her in the calf to rouse her.

Lexa turns, blinking blearily at the nice car pulling up to the curb next to the drive. The driver’s door opens and an older woman hops out, apologizing even as she strides toward them.

“Hi, I’m Abby.”

“I’m Anya, this is Lexa.”

Lexa nods, and the woman briefly meets her eyes to smile apologetically as she hurries toward them.

“It’s nice to meet you both. I am so sorry about this. I thought my husband came and unlocked it earlier but apparently not. Have you been here long?”

They shake their heads. Abby’s lips quirk up in response, dark eyes amused as they scan over them. She clucks her tongue, keys jangling as she searches for the right one.

“You two look exhausted. Long journey? Where are you coming from?”

“Polis,” says Anya. 

“Oh, wow! And you decided to drive, instead of fly?”

“This one has a fear of flying.” Lexa cracks open her eyes in time to see Anya jerk a thumb at her. Abby laughs at Lexa’s scowl as she puts the key in the door. 

“What brings you to Arkadia?”

“Our dad’s getting married.”

Abby starts to say something else, but she grimaces instead when the construction starts up again, just as she swings the door open before them. 

“I’m so sorry, our neighbor’s fixing the hail damage on his roof on his own, and he works during the day, so this is about the only time he can work on it.”

“It’s cool. Pretty sure we could sleep through anything at this point.”

Abby chuckles. She pokes her head into the house, and looks satisfied when she pulls back.

“The keys are on the kitchen counter. There’s only two— how many did you say would be here?”

“Six of us total. The others should be here tomorrow.”

Abby nods, finally stepping back, off the stoop and onto the sidewalk. “Well, I hope you have a wonderful reunion. Get some rest.”

“Thank you,” Anya says; Lexa echoes it when she elbows her. The woman notices and smiles, waving before she heads back to her car. “Can you act like a functioning human being,” Anya mutters.

“I’m not functional,” Lexa grumbles as she turns into the doorway. “You made me drive most of the way and you know I worked a double before we left.” 

“Wah. Go to sleep then.”

“I am. And I’m taking the master bedroom.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Lexa blindly flips her sister off as she stumbles through the house. She doesn’t even know where it is, but she knows there’s one from the pictures online. The bed looked heavenly. 

As she climbs the stairs, the sounds of construction blare louder than ever, this side of the house closer to the neighbor’s rooftop. Lexa sighs. She might have to get her bags after all, if only to grab her headphones. But fuck it. She doesn’t even want to get pajamas. She just wants to be horizontal in the next sixty seconds.

She tries the first room; bunk beds. Nope. That can go to Aden and Tris.

The door across from it is another bedroom— this one rather beautiful, but still not the huge one Lexa saw in the pictures. Same for the third room she tries.

But the fourth. The fourth.

Oh God, the fourth.

The universe hates her. Because the fourth isn’t a bedroom at all.

It takes a minute for Lexa’s brain to catch up to reality, when she opens the door and steps onto white tile. She’s so tired she thinks she’s somehow hallucinating, because there are constellations on the walls and ceiling— dancing lights in shades of blue and purple, with shooting stars and swirling planets.

She blinks, walking further into the room, not comprehending what she’s seeing. Until movement in the corners of her eyes has her looking to her left. Until her heart stutters and lodges itself in her throat, and her stomach lurches. Until she registers the large marble bathtub with golden claws, full of soapy water and a very, very naked woman with blonde hair piled into a messy bun atop her head, lounging in the tub with her eyes closed and AirPods in her ears, arms draped over and fingers drumming along the side of the tub in tune with her quiet humming along to her music.

And a split second later, as if sensing Lexa’s presence— or maybe just the breeze from the opened door— her eyes open, and a piercing blue locks onto Lexa, the moment she tries to halt and instead slips on the puddle of water on the tile. Her gasp echoes in her own head a moment before she slams down, and the last thing she sees is the universe projected on the ceiling before everything goes black.

\\

“What the fuck? Lexa! Fuck, Lexa, wake up!”

Lexa’s lashes flutter. She groans feebly as awareness settles over her like a sticky blanket. Her head hurts.

A second layer, she registers the fingers tapping the side of her face, and then flinches as they flick water onto her.

Anya swears. Lexa blinks, and her sister’s face swims into view— unnaturally ashen and filled with worry. “What the hell happened?”

“Wha—” Lexa tries to shake her head, and winces when it throbs in pain. 

“I heard a thud, I kept calling for you and you didn’t answer. I came up here and you’re on the floor and there’s a fucking naked girl lying next to you! What the hell?”

Lexa’s eyes fly open. She ignores the pain as she whips her head over to see, indeed, the naked blonde sprawled out on the floor next to her. Unconscious. 

“Shit,” Lexa hisses, dragging herself up. “There's blood,” Lexa’s breath hitches as she recognizes it, tendrils of blood in the water pooled on the floor between them, arcing out from the woman’s head. “She’s bleeding!”

“So are you! Should I call an ambulance?”

They freeze at the muffled sound the naked stranger makes. Golden-brown lashes flutter as she comes to. 

“Grab a towel,” Lexa instructs Anya, who immediately almost slips when she rises to get it. “Shit, be careful.”

Lexa’s breath catches again, when eyes crack open and hazy blue finds her. She seizes the fluffy white towel Anya throws at her and presses it to the girl’s head. One of her eyes closes as she winces. The bathroom grows instantly brighter when Anya turns on the light and yanks out the cord to the dinky plastic star projector, so the constellations disappear. 

“That’s a lot of blood. I’m calling 911,” Anya says; she steps over them and heads for the door. “My phone’s downstairs. Don’t die while I go get it.”

Lexa ignores her. She can’t quite look away from blue eyes filled with confusion, and pain, when Lexa gently holds the towel more firmly to her head.

“What…I don’t…” The woman’s voice has a rasp to it. She frowns up at Lexa. “I don’t understand. Who are you?”

Lexa doesn’t understand either. What the hell just happened? Why was there a woman taking a bath in their Airbnb. Is she a squatter?

Lexa clears her throat. “I rented this Airbnb. I…I’m pretty sure we’re the only people who rented it…”

The girl’s eyes widen. She curses, so thoroughly it takes Lexa aback. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she continues, face screwed up with chagrin. “Oh my God. I am— I am so sorry. I didn’t know anyone rented this weekend, my mom didn’t tell me. Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry.”

Even if she hadn’t mentioned her mother, Lexa thinks she would have recognized the resemblance by the apology alone.

“That’s why the front door was locked,” Lexa realizes. “You were here. Abby’s your mom?”

The woman nods, wincing at once. “I didn’t tell her I was coming, either. I— this was the house I grew up in. My mom and stepdad moved and they rent it out on Airbnb sometimes. Usually they tell me when, because I come over a lot. I travel for work, and it’s just easier sometimes. I got off late tonight and just needed to relax, and…” Her eyes widen. Lexa very carefully keeps her gaze on the woman’s face, refusing to stray any lower toward all the wet bare skin, and the soap suds that cling to generous curves.

“Oh my God, I’m naked.” The woman just stares at her, face flushing a deep red that Lexa can’t help but watch shift down her neck, toward—

Nope.

Shit.

“Very naked,” Lexa agrees after she swallows around the lump in her throat. 

The woman’s hand claws over her own as she makes for the towel, but Lexa holds firm.

“You can’t, you’re bleeding—“

“Head wounds always bleed heavy,” the woman dismisses, voice desperate as she tries to tug the towel loose.

“Hang on, keep the towel there and I’ll cover you up with my jacket,” Lexa says urgently, releasing the towel only after she’s certain the woman wouldn’t remove it. But when Lexa shifts to wriggle her jacket off, and the woman flinches forward in pain as she presses too hard against her own head, they both knock foreheads with a loud crack.

“Oh my fucking God,” Anya says, walking back into the bathroom just in time.

The woman groans, and Lexa grits her teeth in pain.

“Don’t move! Jesus, neither of you move. The ambulance is on its way.”

“I don’t need it,” Lexa says through clenched teeth, even as she lays prone, head spinning.

“You lost consciousness and your head is bleeding.”

“I don’t need it,” Lexa says stubbornly— more honestly, she doesn’t need the damn bill. 

“You do,” the stranger grunts, glancing back up at her; Lexa can see mingled pain and apology in her eyes. “You need a neuro assessment. My mom’s a trauma surgeon,” she adds.

“And a landlord,” Lexa tells Anya. “She’s her daughter. She didn’t know we were here.”

Anya swears. “Great. I’m not paying any extra cleaning fees.”

"Fine, you can clean, for the first time in your life."

Incredibly, it draws a husky laugh from the naked stranger. When Lexa looks at her, she finds blue eyes already watching her.

“I’m Clarke,” the woman offers. Her lips are tipped up at the corners in a way that catches Lexa’s eye. Which is pretty impressive, considering all the nakedness.

“Lexa.” She winces and stops when she tries to nod to gesture toward Anya. “That’s my sister Anya.”

Anya shakes her head, looking stressed and annoyed as she checks her phone. 

“I’m sorry about all this,” Clarke says, abashed. “I didn’t hear you come in. I had my headphones in because of Vinnie— our neighbor next door, he’s working on his roof and it’s hard to relax when it sounds like a construction zone.”

“I didn’t hear you either. I just walked in and…kept walking.” Clarke’s brows raise, and Lexa’s stomach turns as she realizes how that sounded. “Because of the projector,” she blurts out. “I was just. I’m really tired, we drove a long way, and I was confused when I saw all the stars, so I just— automatically kept walking while I stared at it. Not because I was— staring at you, or anything. I’m not. I mean I wasn’t.”

With every word, heat creeps across Lexa’s face, all the way to the tips of her ears. Clarke’s pink lips are pressed together in amusement, which just makes it worse.

“I mean, you probably didn’t expect a naked stranger in the place you rented,” Clarke says reasonably, “so I wouldn’t blame you if you did stare a little.”

Unbidden, Lexa’s gaze dips down. Catches a glimpse of large, full breasts, before she catches herself and chokes on air as she tries to look away.

Clarke is now biting her lip trying not to smile at her. Very naked, and very pretty.

“Oh my God, this is so fucking gay. Is now the time? Like, really?"

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and grab another towel, Anya?” Lexa bites out. 

“I’m keeping an eye on you before the ambulance gets here! They said to make sure you don’t pass out again—”

“Just get another towel!”

Of course, right after Clarke tucks herself under the towel, the sound of sirens approaches. 

After that it’s an arduous task of EMTs and paramedics carrying them down the stairs and into the back of the ambulances. Clarke looks embarrassed as she chats with the EMTs and driver, two older men and a young man and woman— she clearly knows them through her mother, and Lexa can imagine being carted to the ER in a towel wasn’t on her bingo card today.

Well, nor was this on Lexa’s. 

But later, after a neuro assessment, approximately three stitches, and an annoyed photo Anya insists on taking to show at the reunion, Lexa’s curtain surrounding her small hospital bed billows as if it’s been knocked.

“Lexa?” comes a soft voice. 

“Yeah, come in.”

The curtain pulls back, and Clarke stands there in a hospital gown. Her hair is down now and a tangled mess, parts of it stained red from her blood.

“Hi again,” Clarke offers with a sheepish smile. Lexa swallows and tries not to blush again. 

This is ridiculous. She’s so sleep deprived. She could be in bed right now if it weren’t for Clarke. She doesn’t blame her though. She didn’t know the house was rented out.

Lexa’s not so forgiving because Clarke is funny and pretty. It’s because she’s a rational person, that’s all.

“What was the damage?”

It takes Lexa a beat to realize what she means. “Three stitches.”

Clarke makes a noise, sucking air between her teeth. “Six for me. I win.”

She grins when Lexa rolls her eyes and fights off a smile.

“Although… I talked to my mom. She’s refunding your Airbnb payment; you get your whole stay free.”

Lexa’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open. “I— what? You didn’t have to do that. I…”

Clarke waves her protests away. “Too late, it's done.” She smiles, tucking her hands behind her back, and Lexa’s eyes catch on the freckle above her lip; the dimple in her chin. “It’s the least I can do. Unless you can think of anything else.”

Lexa freezes. Clarke just looks at her, an easy smile on her face. It’s an opening. That’s definitely an opening, right?

She’s so glad Anya went to raid the vending machines.

Lexa clears her throat, heart kicking faster. “Actually. If uh, you wouldn’t mind…maybe...you could give me your number, too.”

Clarke arches a brow. “Are you only asking me because you saw me naked?”

“No,” Lexa says, even as her cheeks warm. “I’m asking because I liked your star projector and I want to borrow it.”

Clarke tilts her head, smile tipping even higher. “For what?”

“What?”

Clarke laughs and moves closer. “What do you want to borrow it for?”

Lexa blinks. She can’t think when Clarke is so close— and Clarke just eased down beside her. 

“Never mind,” Clarke says with a light laugh. She gently nudges her shoulder into Lexa’s. “Can I see your phone?”

Grateful Anya brought it to her earlier, Lexa fumbles for it with sweaty palms. She unlocks it and hands it to Clarke. Watches in silence as Clarke opens up her messages and starts texting a new number.

“I don’t usually do this type of thing,” Clarke confesses, as she hits send and hands the phone back to Lexa. 

“Take such dangerous baths?”

Clarke snorts. “You’re funny. No. I mean giving my number out to someone I don’t know. But I figure, hey, we bled together, and it was really cute watching you try not to look at my chest. Truly a valiant effort, I appreciate that, by the way. But…yeah.” Clarke’s shrug is bashful, and endearment swells in Lexa’s lungs. “You’re in town for a week? Mom said you’re here for a family reunion, and that you’re from Polis.” Lexa nods, and Clarke lets out a low whistle. “That’s a long way away.”

“Yeah.” Lexa doesn’t know what to say. She’s still running on barely any sleep, and part of her wonders if she’s dreamt this up. 

“I travel for work, so I’m out that way sometimes,” Clarke says vaguely. She continues on before Lexa can even dwell on what she said. “Well… if you want, give me a call. I’ll take you to dinner, try to make up for,” she lifts a hand and gestures at her own head, and then Lexa’s. Her smile grows when Lexa’s does. 

“Thanks. I, uh. I promise I’ll be better company then. I’m running on like three hours of sleep over the past couple days. Kinda feel like a zombie.”

Clarke nods in understanding. “The head wound probably doesn’t help.”

Lexa laughs. “Not at all.”

They both glance up when they hear footsteps approaching. It’s Anya, one hand clutching a couple bags of chips, the other holding her phone up to her ear. She is, Lexa is sure, relaying the entire story to their grandmother, and subsequently the rest of the family. Of course. 

A soft touch to her fingers draws Lexa’s attention; she glances down to see Clarke’s hand on the edge of the bed next to hers, one finger poised over the back of Lexa’s knuckles. Then she looks up and finds herself arrested by eyes that were every bit as blue as the constellations on the walls before Lexa first saw her.

What an awful first meeting. And what awful timing, considering the length of Lexa’s stay. 

But when Clarke smiles at her, it’s easy for everything else to fall away. 

“Get a good night’s rest,” Clarke tells her. Lexa’s heart thuds when Clarke leans in, but it’s only to whisper conspiratorially, “The master bed isn’t actually the comfiest bed. It’s the one in the teal room, with the Van Gogh pillowcases.” Her smile widens as she leans back, and slips off the edge of the bed. She grips the back of her hospital gown together with one hand, and lifts the other in farewell. “Have a good night.”

She exchanges a brief goodbye with Anya, before walking away. Anya approaches Lexa, tossing her a bag of cool ranch Doritos. 

“They have your discharge papers, are you ready to go?”

Lexa nods. She stands and follows Anya out; doesn’t catch another glimpse of Clarke as she signs papers, gets instructions, and heads to their car where Anya had parked it way out in the back of the parking lot. 

“I literally can’t believe what happened in the last couple hours,” Anya sniggers. Because of that, Lexa neglects to point out the chip crumbs on her cheek. It’s what she deserves.

She also doesn’t tell her that she got Clarke’s number. She doesn’t have the energy for her teasing.

Once they’re in the house, it’s mercifully silent, too late for construction work. Lexa trudges up the stairs after Anya.

“I mopped up all the blood and water, you’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Lexa says wearily. She pauses at the top of the staircase. “Hey, you know what? For your help, you can have the master bedroom.”

Anya turns to her with raised brows and a sharp curve of disbelief to her lips. “Really?”

“Really.”

Anya doesn’t thank her; she turns around, walking down the hallway, tossing her hand up carelessly. “No take-backs.” 

Lexa shakes her head in amusement, before she moves toward the second bedroom she’d tried earlier this evening; the beautiful one, with walls painted teal, hand painted patterns along the top near the ceiling, and a queen-sized bed that was on the smaller side, but, when Lexa sinks into the comfortable mattress, curling up beneath the downy duvet and gingerly laying her head against soft pillows with silken pillow cases with Van Gogh art printed on them, she thinks she’s probably about to have the best sleep of her life.

Just as she starts to drift off, she remembers Clarke had texted herself from Lexa’s phone. Too curious to resist, Lexa pulls out her phone and squints in the low light. 

Clarke: 🛁 💦 🌈 

She’d sent herself a bathtub emoji. And a wet emoji.

And a rainbow.

It’s so cute Lexa can’t help it; she starts typing.

Lexa: Maybe we can see each other again sometime. With less blood and hospital visits.

Lexa doesn’t let herself regret it, as she sleepily stares at her phone. You know what? She wants to say more. She thinks of Clarke’s smile at the hospital; of every smile she’d seen from her. They all looked so…mischievous, like she knew something Lexa didn’t. Flirtatious. 

Fuck it. Lexa’s only here for a week anyway, and Clarke knows it.

Lexa: I wouldn’t mind you being wet and naked again, though

It’s read. She can see it’s been read. Ugh, why did Lexa say that? Was it creepy? It was probably creepy. Why did she put that? 

But before she can spiral too much, Clarke texts her back.

Clarke: Bold words from a girl who blushed every time she looked at me

Lexa holds her phone tightly. 

Lexa: I’ll have more energy and more brain cells next time you see me

Clarke:  Oh, you were blushing because you were sleep-deprived?

Lexa: I was blushing because you’re beautiful

Lexa watches three little dots oscillate. Got her.

Honesty for the win.

The oscillating dots stop. The response doesn’t come. Lexa wonders if Clarke simply doesn’t know how to respond, so she adds another text.

Lexa: And I definitely didn’t expect to see such a beautiful - and naked - woman today

Clarke: I definitely didn’t expect to have a hot zombie walk into the room while I was enjoying my bath

Lexa laughs quietly. Her eyes are drooping, but her heart races as her thumbs pad across the screen.

Lexa: Not sure about the hot part, but definitely agree about the zombie 

Clarke: A zombie that I’m surprised is awake and texting me right now

Lexa:  Getting there. I’m in bed now. Followed your advice, I’m in the teal bedroom 

Clarke:  Good choice 😌

Lexa: Probably about to nod off in a second Just wanted to say hi

Clarke: Hi :)

Lexa: Is this weird?

Clarke: Ngl it’s not even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me this week

Lexa: For real? 😂

Clarke: Seriously. Two days ago I found a raccoon in my car

Lexa: What!

Clarke: Yeah! Perfectly fine, sitting in the driver’s seat and eating my chapstick

Lexa:  You’re fucking with me

Clarke: No, I swear Its little raccoon hands were literally rolling the chapstick up to eat the whole tube

Lexa: 🤣

Clarke:  I have pics to prove it, but they’re on my friend’s phone 

Lexa: That is just…insane

Clarke: Tell me about it And then it was awkward because animal control came out and guess who it was? My ex

Lexa: Omg

Lexa smiles sleepily at her phone. She can’t think of what to say next. She’s so sleepy. But she wants to talk to Clarke.

Clarke: I’ll tell you more when I take you to dinner :P Are you free tomorrow?

Lexa: I can be

Clarke:  :) I’ll pick you up at six Fully clothed this time 🫡 

Lexa:  :(

Clarke reacts to her message with a laughing emoji, before she sends another text.

Clarke: You can’t have a wet, naked girl falling for you EVERY day, Lexa

Lexa: I believe in myself

Clarke reacts to it with a love heart.

Clarke: Go to sleep, dork

Lexa: I will now I hope you feel better tomorrow

Clarke:  What do you mean?

Lexa: You did split your head open

Clarke:  Oh I feel better already :)  I hope you feel okay too

Lexa: I do :)

Clarke reacts to it with another love heart. 

Lexa: Goodnight Clarke 

Clarke:  Sleep tight See you tomorrow 😊

It’s the best night’s sleep Lexa’s ever had.

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

temporarily back on my vampire bullshit

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

happy fanfic writer appreciation day to EVERYONE who has ever posted a fic, tried to write a fic, wanted to write a fic but didn’t think your writing was “good enough” to be shared (between you and me, it is!!!) because ALL of you make this fandom better with your creativity and beautiful words, whether you know it or not. thank you!!!!!!!!!! ❣️❣️❣️

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

War is over, we can appreciate sunsets again!!!

Ava: I want to see everything

Bea: Okay, then let me show you

#avatrice