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aphrodites-law · 5 years

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A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (1/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction.

The visions had started the last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. It all depended on what had been seen - what had been interpreted. Some had brief flashes while others were put in a trance for over a minute. A minute was the longest heard of, though it was difficult to establish who was telling the truth and who was out for attention.

Regardless, the duration of the vision itself was now known to be of no consequence. A woman who had been told she was infertile had had a four-second vision of herself pregnant, while an old man who had been in the trance for fifty-five seconds had relayed that he'd only seen his wife and him sitting peacefully on the porch of their home. Magnitude was relative. What the visions had done, in a world stagnating in such hopelessness, was offer glimpses of sunshine.

But the visions did not come all at once. Amid the flurry of testimonies, out of all the social media posts, the frenzied calls and the hurried articles, there were still voices that bemoaned being left out. There was no precise age, no time, no pattern to the visions. The only established commonality seemed to be a tingling down one's spine, like a sudden shiver after a strong gust of wind. The feeling of knowing a vision was coming was difficult to explain. Suddenly the world and its noises faded, replaced with vivid images - and for some not even visuals, but rather intense sensations. A well-known story already was that of a blind man in Kenya who had felt himself dipping his hands in a pot of paint. The sensation had been so powerful that he had been driven to recreate it, subsequently gifting the world with breathtaking abstract murals.

Those still on the outskirts of the phenomenon had reason to be disappointed, but the general consensus was that they were lucky to experience it. Nostalgia often gripped those who had had their glimpses - heard in their wishful sighs when they conversed with the people who had yet to see anything at all. Celebrations erupted when one emerged from their visions - strangers smiling at them knowingly, patting them on the back, asking what they had seen and listening with rapt attention. The excitement surrounding it had yet to fade, and with good reason. It was something to unite the world, something in common that existed beyond time and space, beyond science and faith and knowledge. Something no one understood and yet accepted as such - a great unknown to fully embrace.

There were of course the skeptics and the cynics - those that warned that knowing a certain outcome in the future immediately changed it, thus rendering the visions meaningless. But the main response, supported by some cases already, was that it wasn't necessarily the future that was seen, but rather an obtainable possibility among a thousand other ones. Rather remarkably, doomsayers found few platforms interested in their diatribes. The world had had enough of fear.

* * *

In the sleepy city of Costial, mostly known for its rain and the state's oldest chocolate factory, the citizens had seen many changes in the past year. Some said the fabric of their culture had been inevitably altered for the better, while others shrugged their shoulders and went back to their lives. A few vision reader shops had popped up just like they had in most countries; a lucrative business for those in search of deeper understanding. Where some visions were clear in their intent, others raised many questions. It was the vocation of these readers to answer them, though many people questioned how a year could suddenly form these so-called experts.

It was in one of these shops that Clarke Griffin found herself one morning, nervously drumming her fingers over her thigh while she waited in a small room. She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing there, only that her vision had come very unexpectedly two nights ago and that she hadn’t slept since. With sleep deprivation came questionable choices, such as this one.

Clarke hadn’t really worried when news of the visions broke and she had yet to get hers. A year ago she had just opened her café, a process that had kept her far too busy to think about anything that wasn't money, food, and customer satisfaction. Oh she paid close attention to the news, as it was impossible not to, and she spoke about it with anyone who brought it up over their coffee and pastries, but she didn't worry. Clarke wasn't a worrier. Until two days ago, that was.

Her vision wasn't really… the sort of thing one shared. Well, she'd read about similar ones, but frankly hers was more on the explicit side of things. She'd just curled up on her couch after devouring a grilled sandwich when her spine had suddenly tingled. The next thing she knew, pleasure spread through her body and she found herself in her own bed with a woman's body atop hers, tousled dark hair covering her face while Clarke kissed her with abandon. She'd seen and felt her own fingers pressing into a tattooed arm while her lover pressed deep inside her and sighed her name. It hadn't just been the heat of the encounter that had left a mark on Clarke, but the distinct sense of intimacy that had been overwhelmingly powerful.

In the past year, sex had been more about stress relief than any type of connection. There had been a few dates, but Clarke had found herself restless. She didn't have the patience to court someone, not when all her energy went into the café she had finally opened after years of dreams and plans. It hadn’t been fair to her dates or the bags beneath her eyes, so falling into a pattern of one-night stands had seemed to work well enough. Clarke still liked sex entirely too much to give it up, sleep be damned (though her recent dry spell argued the contrary). Regardless, despite its graphic nature, her vision hadn’t been about sex. It had felt different; like something she couldn't put her finger on no matter how many times she thought about it.

Hence: the vision reader. But the wait was longer than Clarke had expected and the clock on the wall didn't help her nerves. Clarke didn't even know where she would start anyway. Should it be something small - maybe the meaning of the tattoo? Should it be the way she still felt the woman's phantom touch on her skin? Still heard her intentions while she kissed a path down her body? Not to mention the inexplicable feeling that she knew her lover, which was precisely why she knew there was just… no way… this vision could be remotely close to reality.

Clarke closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Two days ago she had been perfectly fine with her hectic schedule and the heavy weight on her shoulders, but now she was curious - so deeply curious about this feeling of being utterly consumed that it was leading her to complete distraction. And Clarke couldn't afford distractions; especially now that Finn's Coffee & Bagels had just made a move for her territory with his second shop in the city. It wasn't outright war yet but it would soon be, and Clarke wasn't going to be on the losing side.

With that thought in mind, and the grating sound of the ticking clock finally getting to her, Clarke grabbed her purse and left the shop.

"To hell with it," she muttered before heading out.

* * *

The Baker's Café was Clarke's pride and joy; a labor of love and sweat and so many paper cuts she'd lost count of them. Monday mornings weren’t so difficult anymore, not when she only left the comfort of her bed for the comfort of her second home. She opened the café with her usual yawn, signed off on the early deliveries, and later chatted in the small kitchen with Wells, her best friend, co-owner and in her opinion the finest baker in the city. This week they were making apple tart and banana bread with walnuts, a favorite for many of their customers. Gaia joined them fifteen minutes before opening, where she helped Clarke with the tables as they caught up on the latest weekend news. Apparently Gaia had learned through the grapevine that Finn's Coffee & Bagels was courting a grocery store to sell his bagels for a share of the profits, but it was still in the early stages of negotiations.

Still, it didn't sit well with Clarke. Finn Collins was a smug daddy's boy and Clarke knew for a fact that his bagels came packaged and frozen to his shop. Unfortunately his father was the beloved mayor of their city, which was the equivalent of a ringing endorsement for most residents who only needed a quick, passable fix before work. Finn's business was thriving thanks to its name alone, but as far as Clarke was concerned the apple had fallen very far from the tree. She was certain Graham Collins knew very little about his son's actual business practices, but there was nothing to be done there. Now Clarke and Wells could only hope their menu and atmosphere kept their loyal customers from straying a few blocks down Elmond Street.

While Gaia opened the café, Clarke put on their background music, double-checked the coffee machines and added the first batch of their freshly baked goods in the display case - a basket of croissants, blueberry muffins, and cinnamon rolls next to the banana bread and apple tart. Just like the café itself, their display was on the smaller side - comfy, Wells said - but they had a rustic charm going for them that seemed to work well enough.

An hour after opening, Clarke had rung up a customer when she heard the door open and close. Her stomach did an awful swoop - caught between surprise and jitters when she saw that it was Lexa Woods who had just walked in. Surprise because Lexa didn't usually come in on Mondays, and jitters because it was Lexa who Clarke had shut out of her mind ever since her damn vision.

Lexa was a journalist at the Costial Gazette, but if she was a woman of words in writing, it was hardly the case in person. She was as buttoned up as the flannel shirts she wore come rain or shine, often beneath a sweater or blazer. She took her coffee black but grimaced at each sip, and come to think of it Clarke had never seen her smile. Lexa seemed scarcely interested in what went on in the shop around her, typing away on her laptop like a train on tracks, fast and with a known destination in mind. Sometimes she got up to stretch her legs or order another slice of the cake of the week, but when she regained her seat her fingers were back to their manic typing, as if she had merely put a pin in her line of thought.

Last week, Lexa had been no different than any other customer. She made it clear she was here to work, and beyond the usual hello and order, Lexa didn't exactly put out a signal that she wanted to converse. So Clarke stuck to her own smile and politeness and thought nothing of it. On some rare occasions she noticed that Lexa and Gaia spoke briefly, but Gaia was Indra Keene's daughter - Lexa's landlord - and so they were slightly more acquainted. According to Gaia, who gossiped with Wells far too much about their customers, Lexa was Indra's favorite tenant. She lived in the only studio on the fourth floor with a small balcony crammed with plants, never made a fuss and had somehow managed to get on Indra's good side after only six months, a feat that Gaia seemed to find particularly impressive. Apparently it took a lot to impress her mother, let alone become her friend. It was a complete mystery to her how Lexa, who always seemed so serious, had managed it.

Now Clarke found herself drawn into the mystery as well, the result of a vision she could swear Lexa had been a part of. Yes, it had been her features she'd recognized - light eyes looking up at her from between her legs, full lips whispering a dirty promise against her thigh, and slender hands reaching for hers. It wasn't as clear to Clarke now, but it had been when the vision had ended and she'd jolted up from her couch. She'd been so certain it was Lexa - but was it? The more Clarke thought about it, the less it made sense.

Watching her approach the counter now, sporting her usual tight bun and a green flannel shirt, Clarke just couldn't reconcile this woman with the one from her vision. Lexa was beautiful, there was no doubt, but… It was just that Clarke had never considered the possibility of Lexa being remotely interested. She was perhaps the exact definition of aloof - and was she even attracted to women? Sometimes when she looked at Clarke it felt like she did it with the same interest as someone staring at a blank piece of paper. So how could it be that this woman would one day make her toes curl and her voice crack between pleas for more?

"Good morning."

Mildly startled, Clarke pushed every single thought at the back of her mind before she greeted Lexa in turn. Lexa glanced at the menu written in chalk and pulled out her wallet.

"I'll just have your regular brew and a slice of the apple, please."

"Coming right up," Clarke replied.

While she made the coffee and grabbed a plate for the slice of pie, Clarke tried to think of anything she might say. Lexa was looking at her phone now, but Clarke was determined to at least make some small talk. She had to get to the bottom of this before it drove her nuts.

"Busy week?" She casually asked.

Lexa looked up from her phone and blinked at her, perhaps just as surprised as Clarke by the spark of conversation.

"Not really," she replied.

It didn't leave much room for a follow-up, and so Clarke offered a smile before sliding the pie and cup of coffee on the counter. Lexa didn't look at Clarke again, but she left a generous tip in the jar as she usually did and then sat at the table by the weeping fig tree Wells was so proud of. Clarke took the next customer's order and cast Lexa out of her mind, ignoring her sudden disappointment. Apparently she wasn't even worth a second glance.

A while later, while Clarke took advantage of the lull for a break at the end of the counter, she opened her notebook and allowed her mind to drift a bit. It had been an eventful weekend and she hadn’t really stopped to think about the actual experience of the vision. The content was still confusing, but she was finally a part of the world's most impactful phenomenon and that was something. She understood it now. And yet she couldn't think of a way to share it with either Wells or Gaia, let alone celebrate it. Theirs had been so innocent. For Wells, it had been a powerful embrace with his estranged father, one that he had yet to experience but certainly had hopes for. For Gaia, it had been a conversation with an esteemed author thanking her for a novel she would one day write. It had been hope. So truthfully Clarke was a bit miffed that she’d witnessed herself having the best sex of her life and couldn’t share it with anyone, not even her supposed partner. There had to be some sort of missing piece there - maybe a punchline.

"Those are good."

Her heart jumped in her throat at Lexa's voice. Clarke dropped her pencil on the sheet of paper she had been mindlessly doodling on, embarrassed that she'd been caught. They were just drawings to occupy her mind - sketches from everyday trivial things like the café's various plants or the mugs hanging above the sink. She smiled nervously and reached for Lexa's empty plate.

"All done?" She asked.

Lexa nodded and then watched as Clarke put the plate in the sink. "Do you know the kids' stories in the Gazette?"

Clarke turned around with a mild frown. Lexa had never once asked her anything since she'd first walked in six months ago. She was so caught up in the fact that she barely remembered the question itself - something about the paper?

"The what?"

"Pages 24, 25. They're short stories, mostly about animals. We had an intern illustrating them, but he got a full-time opportunity at an advertising firm. It doesn't pay much, but it gets your work out there."

Clarke blinked, at first in surprise - Lexa, talking, conversing - and then in confusion. "I'm not an artist," she said. "They're just doodles."

"I see." Lexa bit her lip before pulling out a printed copy of the Gazette from her briefcase and leaving it on the counter. "It's just two pages, no color. Feel free to leaf through it."

Curiosity got the best of Clarke, who reached for the magazine. "It's monthly, right?” She asked.

"Hm-mm. Well, the print is. The website breaks news daily."

Clarke looked up and waited, wondering if Lexa was going to add anything. "Right. I think I've got the app somewhere on my phone."

"That's good." Lexa glanced between Clarke and the Gazette before checking her watch. "I should get going."

"Okay. Thank you for the free copy."

For a moment Clarke thought she might finally know what a smile looked like on her, but Lexa only offered a slow nod before she left the café. Clarke stared at the door a minute, wondering if she had just made up the entire interaction in her head.

She closed the notebook and shook her head, deciding in that very instant to answer her own earlier question: no, there was absolutely no way that it was Lexa Woods who would ever embrace her that tightly.

[part two]

#clarke x lexa #clexaedit #clextober19 #13daysofclexa #day11 #clexa #f: a bit of clarity #lexa is such a nerd oh my goodness #clarke is hopeless #they're gonna love each other so hard #yes i recycle my city names #if you ignore my ridiculous premise this is going to be pretty angsty #w

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dontcha-wanheda · 5 years

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Day 4: Scream

Collaboration project I did with @eris223. Enjoy!

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hushthots · 5 years

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Clextober Day 8: Vampires/Werewolves

“I know what you are.”

“Say it. Out loud.”

pose - @effiethejay

#clextober19 #clextober 2019 #well #she cant #ur finger is in her mouth #nmhbhkjr #im so corny #dont @ me #13daysofclexa #clexa #clexa fanart #clexa sims #simblr

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cantgetoutofmyheda · 5 years

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Clextober 2019 - Vampires/Werewolves

Anon Prompt: “I’m not leaving this place without you.”

—

It was like clockwork. Every Wednesday at 6:45pm the quiet brunette would saunter into the quaint restaurant. It was a small town, the kind of town that if you were born there, you’d likely spend the rest of your life there. This mysterious brunette, though, she stuck out like a sore thumb. It had been short of two months of Lexa being there—her great uncle Alexander had passed away and she was his last known relative. It was supposed to be an “in and out” process—clean the house, list it for sale, box Alexander’s things up, donate them to shelters, and then be on her way, but her stay had extended far longer than anyone would have thought. The house needed some fixing before it could be listed on the market and the process of switching over the title of the house to her name ended up being more complex than it should have been.

This Wednesday was no different than the rest. Lexa walked into the small establishment and took it upon herself to walk past the host station and seat herself. She barely spoke to anyone and always kept to herself, and like every Wednesday before this one, she came alone.

“Your fan club is here,” Clarke heard Miller call from the front of house.

Clarke brushed off the teasing, “Thanks, Miller. Your food’s up for your corner table in the back, better get it out there before they stiff you a tip again.”

The blonde dropped off the tray of food she was carrying to her early-bird diners before she made her way to Lexa’s table—the brunette always sat on the same side of the same exact booth every visit, “Hey there. I’d ask if you wanted to hear the specials, but I already know the answer to that. Double whiskey, straight up and the check?

“If you don’t mind,” Lexa nodded

Clarke grinned, “Never have, won’t start now. I’ll bring it over in a few minutes, the bar shouldn’t have too many orders ‘round this time of day.”

Lexa nodded again as she watched the blonde walk off to put her order in with Octavia behind the bar. She found herself bringing her attention away from the waitress, her insides started to twist—she was hungrier than she should have been for the time of day. She looked down and laid her eyes on the gold watch that adorned her wrist, cursing at herself for skipping lunch earlier for the sake of getting a paint job done and over with.

Not even a minute had passed before the blonde reappeared, setting her drink down next to her check and joked, “Sure you don’t want to hear tonight’s specials?” She looked over her shoulder to the older couple eating their dinner, before turning back to Lexa, “Johnny and Cath over there are sure loving Murphy’s meatloaf.”

Lexa peered over Clarke’s shoulder, wincing at the sight of the meat mushed around their plates, “Never have, won’t start now.”

“Alrighty then, Lexa. Enjoy your whiskey. Maybe one of these days I can convince you to stay for dinner, too,” the blonde laughed.

Lexa took a sip, “Doubt it, the food here… It’s not really up my alley.”

Clarke nodded, though she wasn’t sure why she did. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why Lexa frequented the restaurant every week if all she wanted was a glass of cheap whiskey, “You know there are other places in town you can go to get a drink, right?”

“I can stop coming here, if that’s what you’re insinuating,” the brunette set her glass down on the table and looked straight into Clarke’s eyes.

The blonde inhaled deeply—Lexa was extremely difficult to read, but from what she gathered, the woman didn’t mean any malice behind her words. If anything, it seemed as if Lexa had taken a liking to her, especially from seeing her around town and barely speaking two words to anyone else, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re an easy customer. Same day every week, same order, you leave when you’re done so you don’t hog up my tables, and you tip 100% of your check every time. I’d be an idiot to tell you to stop coming here.”

The brunette nodded, “So why the suggestion?”

“Just wasn’t sure if you’ve ventured around town. Maybe one of the bars would be more your scene, you don’t necessarily strike me as the type to be surrounded by the dinosaurs that come through this place,” Clarke shrugged.

“Well then, that’s appreciated,” Lexa let out a small smile, “I get along with dinosaurs quite well, though.”

Clarke raised a brow, “You have a sense of humor,” she pointed out. “Who woulda thought?”

“I’m an old soul, at heart,” Lexa said, bringing the glass to her lips again.

The blonde smiled, “I gathered that the second you walked in here that first time. There’s something about you. I can’t quite place it yet, but I’m sure in time I will. But that’s enough out of me, I’ll let you enjoy your evening treat.” Clarke tapped the table with her pen, “I’ll come back around to say bye before you head out—if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure,” Lexa nodded before turning her attention away from Clarke, looking back down at her watch again.

It was ten after seven—she had about fifty minutes to make it back home before her dinner would be ready. Just a few more weeks. After that, she’d be able to go back to her real home, back to the life she was used to. This short stint in Arkadia would be behind her, and so would the facade she had been having to keep up over the long few weeks.

She was jostled out her thoughts at the sound of a glass breaking. She looked up and noticed Clarke hovering over a table in the back in a heated argument with a customer, the brown-haired man was clearly inebriated, likely the cause of the glass shards lining the table. She waited a little longer, watching how her server was able to hold her own. It wasn’t until the man placed his hands around Clarke’s wrists that Lexa’s body went into overdrive.

In a matter of seconds, Lexa was standing next to Clarke, she now had a grasp on the man’s hand, “Let go.”

“Lexa?” the blonde was astonished, she hadn’t even realized the woman was standing right next to her.

“Get your hand off of me, you whack job,” the man huffed, trying to shake Lexa off as he still had a hold on the blonde.

“Now,” Lexa stated, “before I rip your hand off her myself.”

“You can’t threaten me like that,” he scoffed, still not loosening his grip, even under the brunette’s ice cold grasp.

“I believe I already did,” there was an esurient look in her eyes, her hunger pangs from before had been exponentially amplified. As the man finally let Clarke’s hand free, the small trail of blood running down her palm gave her a resolution as to why.

Lexa jumped back at the sight, looking down again at the small cut on Clarke’s hand, moving her eyes to the blonde’s, “Are you okay?”

All Clarke could do was nod—so much had happened in such a short period of time. Finn, the angry town drunk set his hands on her, Lexa appearing out of thin air and threatening the man on her behalf, and now, the brunette looked absolutely disgusted by her.

“Go home, Finn. You’re drunk,” Clarke said, tapping the man’s chair with her foot, then turned her attention to Lexa, “Thanks, I need to go get this wrapped up.”

“Yeah, okay. I should get going soon,” Lexa nodded, unable to look straight at the blonde.

Lexa made her way back to her booth to finish the rest of her drink. She watched from her seat as the man slapped a few bills and change on the table—to be frank, she was surprised he even did that. Her eyes never left the man, something he had realized on his way out. She took notice that he stood near the front door, lighting a cigarette, and she couldn’t help but wonder why he was still sticking around. The sound of someone clearing their throat brought her attention back inside the restaurant.

“You’re still here,” Clarke observed, zipping the front of her jacket.

Lexa nodded, taking the last swig of whiskey from her glass, “I am, and by the looks of it, he is too.”

“He’s drunk and he’s an idiot, but thank you again for that,” Clarke managed to smile. She brought her hand up to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and Lexa was glad to see that her cut had been bandaged up.

“You don’t have to thank me, I was just doing what was right.”

Clarke pursed her lips, “Right, well I’m going to head out. The boss said I could go home after all that, Octavia will be by to pick up your check. See you same time next week?”

Lexa looked out the window again, the man was still lingering near the door, “Is that the best idea? It looks like he’s waiting for you or something.”

“I’m a big girl, Lexa, I’ll be fine.”

“Let me walk you out, at least. This town is so small that we’re probably heading in the same direction,” Lexa offered, though her expression was still stoic.

“Really,” Clarke shook her head, “I’ll be okay, he’d be an idiot to try anything like that when there are people all around.”

“Clarke,” Lexa emphasized the blonde’s name, “he already grabbed you in a restaurant full of people. Not for nothing, but no one batted an eye. Let me walk you until he’s at least out of sight.”

The blonde took her bottom lip between her teeth, she knew Lexa was right, but there was also something about the woman that had her wondering if her suggested idea would be her best option—there was something about her, something that she still couldn’t quite place, and she didn’t like the feeling.

Before Clarke could respond, the brunette added, “I’m not leaving this place without you.”

“If you insist,” Clarke gave in, “but your uncle’s place is before mine, so I don’t need you to walk me the whole way.”

---

Lexa was reserved as the two walked, but that didn’t surprise Clarke one bit. Her uneasiness started to dissipate once she realized Lexa was really trying to help—Finn had still been outside the restaurant as the pair left, the drunk man screamed profanities at both women as they walked past him.

They had gone on in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Clarke spoke up, “So are you some sort of chef or something? You only eat the food you prepare yourself?”

“Huh?” Lexa looked over to the blonde, her hands were buried deep in her pockets and her head had been buried deep in her thoughts of why she insisted on walking with the woman in the first place.

“You’ve been to the restaurant every week and you’ve never ordered a thing. There aren’t many places to grab food around here and you don’t have a car, so I just assumed you preferred your own cooking to anyone else’s,” the blonde pointed out.

Lexa stopped walking, “How do you know I don’t have a car?”

Clarke shrugged, “Small town.”

“Right,” Lexa nodded, starting to walk again, “And I get my food delivered fresh every day.”

“One of those fancy farm-to-table meal services, huh? Clarke grinned, “Too rich for my blood.”

Lexa winced at the last word that left the blonde’s mouth, “Something like that.” The brunette looked around and realized that they were no longer going in the direction of Alexander’s home, “I thought you said my uncle’s place was on the way.”

“It was,” the blonde blushed, “I got kind of creeped about Finn so I kept walking, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind, it’ll only be a five minute walk back for you, though. We can part ways here if you’d like.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of such trickery,” Lexa smirked, “It’s fine, I have time before I have to be back,” she looked at her watch—she had about thirty minutes to get home and finally eat before her hunger would take the best of her.

“Thank you,” Clarke smiled, reaching into her purse to pull out a set of keys.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me.”

Clarke shrugged, “I know I don’t know you, but something tells me you wouldn’t have done that for just anyone.”

“I suppose you’re right about that,” Lexa stopped at the bottom of the steps leading to the front door of a modest craftsman-style house.

Clarke opened the door and walked in, turning around to see Lexa awkwardly standing at the base of the stoop, “What are you doing?”

“Well, I was going to head back now that I know you got home okay,” Lexa said, shuffling her feet.

Clarke nodded, “Well, I don’t want to be too forward, but since you want me to stop saying ‘thank you’ I figured I could do something nice for you. I have a pretty decent bottle of whiskey in here—tastes much better than what you drink at the restaurant. Stay for one?”

“Oh,” Lexa was honestly surprised. She knew she had enough time for one drink before having to be home, but something inside of her kept her at the bottom of the steps, keeping her from taking a step forward, “that does sound nice.”

Clarke arched a brow, “So what are you still standing there for?”

Lexa’s mind raced at how to tackle the conversation. There was something burning inside of her, wanting to step inside the home and be closer to Clarke—she knew it was partly because of the experience at the restaurant which fueled her hunger, but it was also partly because out of all the people in this small town, Clarke had been the only welcoming person towards her. She took a breath and cursed herself for how forward she was about to become, “I’m waiting for you to invite me in.”

The blonde was thoroughly confused, “I thought I just did.”

“I need you to say it,” Lexa sighed.

“Okay,” Clarke exhaled, still confused and now hoping she wasn’t having a lapse of judgement about inviting the woman in front of her into her home, “Lexa, would you please come inside for a drink?”

The brunette’s legs started to mindlessly move towards the door and into the house, “I only have twenty-five minutes, but I’d love to.”

****

Few notes here: I wrote this pretty hastily and didn’t have any time to proofread, so I’m sorry if there are any typos and whatnot. Secondly, I left this pretty open ended because I have a few ideas for how a larger story could pan out. If you guys are interested in that, let me know and I’ll start to post some snippets when I have time!

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100hearteyes · 5 years

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Clextober19 - Day 3 - Monster Mash

A terrible plague has left the planet’s population divided between zombies and humans.

When an unusual zombie named L sees her walking-dead brethren attacking a living woman, she decides to rescue her. The woman, Clarke, sees that L is different from the other zombies, and the pair embark on an unusual friendship.

As their bond grows, L becomes more and more human and Clarke finds herself entertaining two unthinkable possibilities: one, maybe all hope is not lost for humanity after all; and two, she may be falling in love with a zombie.

It’s a Warm Bodies AU.

#clexa #clexa au #clextober19 #13DaysOfClexa #Day 3: Monster Mash #Day 3 #13 days of clexa #clexa week #mine

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butmakeitgayblog · 5 years

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It’s you, isn’t it?

Clarke Griffin had always been more than a bit strange.

At least, that’s what the residents of her sleepy Massachusetts town she grew up in always said.

Clarke herself never really felt any different than anyone else as a child. She liked playing and pretending and dancing and shouting, she liked toys and arts and crafts time and hanging upside down on the monkey bars. But somewhere between kindergarten and fifth grade, almost every single one of her peers decided there was something… creepy about her.

#clextober19 #clextober #read on ao3 #sorry if it's shit #13daysofclexa #Clextober2019 #Day 13: a pinch of magic #Clexa

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anonfanfic · 5 years

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Clextober 19 || It’s Mine

“Clarke, give it to me. You know it’s my shirt.” Lexa held out her hand expectantly as Clarke clung to the orange and white flannel top.

“Not true,” Clarke protested, moving the shirt behind her back and staring at Lexa. “You borrowed it from me last year and now I’m taking it back.”

Lexa made a desperate grab for the shirt, her fingers only brushing the edges of the soft material before it disappeared behind her roommate.

“Clarke, it is the softest most comfortable shirt in the world. And. It’s. Mine.” Lexa punctuated each word with a swap at Clarke’s arms.

“You wish,” Clarke laughed, backing up to the end of her bed. “Go buy your own perfect shirt.” Clarke felt the back of her knees hit her mattress and twisted the shirt tighter in her grasp. Lexa had her cornered now, there was little she could do to fend off an attack.

“I don’t have to because that one is mine.” Lexa threw away the rest of her inhibitions and made a dive at Clarke. She knocked the blonde onto her bed and wrestled her arms in front of her body.

“Lexa, no..no..stop.” Clarke laughed as she revealed her hands to be empty. “I threw it. I don’t have it!” Clarke’s face was bright red as Lexa poked at her sides trying to get a glimpse of the shirt.

“Bullshit, Griffin you’re laying on it. Give it here and I’ll show mercy.” Lexa smiled broadly as Clarke writhed underneath her.

“Never!” Clarke shouted stubbornly. Clarke tried to wriggle her arms free of Lexa’s grasp, but Lexa easily pinned them above Clarke’s head with just one of her own hands and smirked down at the helpless girl.

“Last chance,” Lexa warned, her free hand moving to continue it’s assault on her sides and stomach.

Clarke felt a trembling heat start in her legs and move up through her body as she stared at Lexa’s smiling face above her. Without thinking Clarke leaned up as far as she could and smashed her lips against Lexa’s. She could feel the other girls shock as she started to move her mouth slowly.

It didn’t take Lexa long to respond, her body relaxing and pressing harder against Clarke as she returned the kiss.

“Clarke, I…” Lexa tried to pull away, but Clarke shook her head.

“Please don’t leave. I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this...how long I’ve wanted us.” Clarke searched Lexa’s eyes for some sort of answer. She didn’t want to feel the sting of rejection she had feared for so long.

“I’ll never leave,” Lexa finally spoke. Her green eyes soft and caring as she released Clarke’s arms and cupped her face. “But I get to keep this shirt.” She smirked and leaned down to give Clarke a lingering kiss.

#clextober19 #13daysofclexa #day 11 #clexa #holy cow three in a row #can it be?

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jordswriteswords · 5 years

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Clextober19: Scary Stories

Clarke chewed her lip as she sat next to her wife, trying to stop herself from bursting into tears.

Because they say across from Lexa's long time ex-girlfriend, Costia. She was… perfect. She was the complete opposite of Clarke, dark skin and dark hair and perfection all rolled into one. Every time she batted her eyes or smiled or glanced at her wife, Clarke felt a pang of insecurity deep in her stomach. Costia was a witch from a wealthy family, and she and Lexa spent their teenage years traversing the earth and indulging in their powers.

"Oh, remember that time that you turned John Murphy into an ant-eater?"

Lexa's beautiful laugh rang through the restaurant. "His nose has never really gone back to normal." Lexa wiped the tears that had formed from laughing too hard.

"You always were my hero."

Lexa shrugged and traced her thumb along the back of Clarke's hand as a gentle reassurance of her love, but Clarke is too far gone, her mind whirring with the pain of not being enough. She dug her fingernails into her jeans to try and calm her anxiety.

"Oh God, remember when we flew to Tuscany to visit my aunt?" Lexa said.

"Yes, and you didn't tell me she was a Vampire. I nearly shat my pants when I caught her looking at me in the mirror. Obviously, I couldn't see her!"

"Well, you always had a proclivity to walk around naked." Lexa scrunched her eyes shut when she felt Clarke stiffen next to her. She internally groaned.

Clarke grabbed her hand and stopped her from snapping her fingers. "No way are you doing a rewind spell. You get to keep your foot stuck in your mouth for that one." She gave her a terse smile and Lexa pouted at her lover.

"What about the time we went to Brazil and watched Carnival from the top of the Jesus statue? There were so many vampires out that night."

"I know. They were ready to flee before we showed them our own magic.”

“Vampires are scared of witches?”

“No, but Lexa has always had the uncanny ability to scare anyone when she wants to. She can be intimidating.”

Clarke snorted a laugh, and both women turned to look at her. “Sorry, you just said that Lexa can be intimidating. She’s about as scary as a puppy.”

“Oh, I have a few stories of Lexa’s ferocity.”

“I bet you do,” Clarke muttered under her breath.

Lexa poked her wife's leg, and Clarke adjusted herself to give a wane smile.

“When we were fourteen, this girl Nia was an absolute terror to the two of us. She would bully me because my hair was just a poof of curls, and would always cast the Medusa curse on me when I wasn’t looking. One day, Lexa had enough and put the Elsa curse on her. She turned her boyfriend to a block of ice, and then turned herself right after.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t my finest moment,” Lexa said bashfully.

“And another time, she poisoned the punch at the school dance with wolfsbane and made the entire senior class develop fleas!”

“Why?” Clarke asked.

“Anya's date tried to make a move on her.”

Clarke laughed, and Lexa smiled bashfully. “Always so protective.”

“And ruthless,” Costia added.

“It added to my charm,” Lexa defended.

The laughter died down, and then Costia spoke of the scariest story of all. "Remember the time we tried to run away together?"

Lexa's cheeks burned red. "Yes. I wasn't happy that you were moving."

"Me neither. I was crazy over you. We made it all the way to Manhattan before our parents found us."

"Yeah."

“We even got married.”

Clarke’s ears felt like they were suddenly stuffed with cotton at that statement.

She knows her lips formed the words, but couldn't hear herself when she asked, “Married?”

“Oh, yes,” Costia laughed. “We got our stuffed animals to be our witnesses and had Mr. Tuxedo, my penguin, to carry out the service. It obviously wasn't official, but it was the most magical ceremony I've ever been a part of.”

Lexa and Costia laughed at the memory, but Clarke felt a pang of hurt. She swallowed it down with a large helping of wine, trying to hold on until the end of the evening.

***

"Clarke? Clarke, what's wrong?" Lexa asked when her wife stormed past her into their house. Clarke just shook her head, forcing a tired smile.

"Nothing, I'm just tired."

"Oh, it's bad then." Lexa snapped her fingers and produced a bouquet of lilies, Clarke's favourite.

Clarke's eyes watered as she forced another smile.

"Clarke, tell me what's wrong," Lexa pleaded.

"Nothing." She pushed the bouquet back into Lexa's chest and turned to walk up stairs.

Lexa snapped her fingers and appeared right in front of her, halting her progress before she could even make it five feet. "Please, talk to me."

"Can you not do that?" Clarke snapped. Lexa's brow furrowed, completely confused by her wife's reaction.

Clarke turned and walked away from Lexa again, so Lexa snapped her fingers and placed herself beside her wife, walking with her. Without speaking, she played the video of the evening in front of them, trying to dissect and figure out where she went wrong.

Clarke waved her hand through the picture. "That! Can you not do that for like five seconds?!" She bit out, her cheeks turning red as she fought the lump in her throat. She collapsed onto the couch and crossed her arms over her chest, avoiding her wife's curious gaze.

Lexa hovered over to her, silently scrutinizing her wife's behaviour to find an answer.

"You're jealous," Lexa accused. Clarke huffed out a breath. "You are. You're jealous that Costia and I are still good friends after all we've been through."

"I'm not jealous," Clarke defended.

"You're something. You're obviously upset about dinner. What's your problem?"

Lexa was a master of sticking her foot in her mouth, and tonight was no exception. The look on the blondes face must have given away that she was in it for a few rounds.

The sounds of Madi's cries startled Clarke and Lexa from their conversation. Clarke wiped at her eyes and got up from the couch. "I'm not jealous of your ex-girlfriend, Lexa. I need to go take care of Madi."

"Yeah, right," Lexa mumbled.

"I'm coming, baby," Clarke called, hoping the toddler wouldn't summon the banshees before she made it up the stairs.

"Hello, baby," Clarke picked up her toddler from her crib, the two year olds hands reaching for her mommy as she cried.

"It's okay, mommy's here," Clarke tried to shush her. She bounced her on her shoulder as she took a seat in the rocker. Madi, unconsolable at the moment, stressed Clarke into crying along with her. Madi, concerned with the state of her mommy's face, cupped her cheeks and sniffled, summoning Lexa to her room with a puff of smoke.

Lexa fell onto the carpet with a loud thud.

Madi looked at Clarke, then to Lexa, and cried, "Mama," reaching out to the brunette.

Lexa dusted off her pants and stood up, taking the baby from her wife while Clarke tried to hide her tears.

"Looks like she wants you," Clarke said, standing and trying to leave the room. The fact that her magical daughter chose her magical mother as opposed to her made the ache in her heart worse.

"Seriously, Clarke, just get over it! There's nothing to be jealous of."

"I'm not jealous of Costia. I'm - I'm - I'm hurting!"

"From what? A few stories from my life? You want me to hide that from you like the rest of you humans?"

"Wow." It felt like all of the air was sucked out of Clarke's lungs.

"Yeah, wow, I thought you were different."

"I thought you were, too," Clarke's voice cracked as she left the room.

Lexa immediately snapped her jaw shut, realizing that she had crossed a line.

Madi turned in Lexa's arms, her cries starting all over again and immediately searched for Clarke, but Clarke had already left.

"Shh, baby, it's okay," Lexa cooed. "It's bedtime," but Madi was inconsolable again.

"Mommy," she wailed, and with a sniff, Clarke was deposited back in the rocking chair with a puff of smoke.

The blonde sighed and rolled her eyes. "Madi, no," she said.

"Mommy, mama," Madi whined. She clutched onto Lexa's flannel shirt as she reached towards Clarke, her hand opening and closing repeatedly as she came close to falling out of Lexa's embrace. "Mommy, mama," she repeated, her cries getting louder and louder the longer the couple refused to hold her.

Clarke stood up and extended her arms out to her baby, but she wouldn't let go of her Mama's shirt.

"She knows we're fighting," Clarke whispered.

"So then talk to me. Please," Lexa begged. "Tell me how to fix this."

Clarke sighed. Madi was still fussing, so she stepped closer to Lexa to support her daughter's weight and cast her eyes to the floor.

"I don't know why you're with me," Clarke whispered. "I'm not magical. I can't take you around the world. I can't even fix the car seat when it gets stuck." Tears rivered down her cheeks as she choked on her words.

"What? I don't care that you're --"

"I'm not Costia! She's beautiful and she's perfect and she's a witch, just like you! She gets you. She doesn't have to - she doesn't have to always explain to you why things are surprising or weird, and you don't have to explain anything to her. She just gets you, and it scares me. Those stories of your past life were terrifying for me because they made me realize how inadequate I am for you."

"No, she gets being a witch. She doesn't get me."

Lexa snapped her fingers and produced the stuffed griffon for her daughter to snuggle, and snapped them again to produce tissue for Clarke. She wiped her wife's eyes gently. Lexa snapped her fingers a third time and two screens appeared before them.

Madi clapped excitedly at the prospect of movie time. "Moobie, moobie!"

Lexa flicked her wrist and the picture on the right screen rewound to the day they met - the day Clarke punched her in the face. The left screen was black, except for a red oval in the centre.

"Let me tell you a story," Lexa said. "This is the day we met. And the other screen is my heart."

"What?" Clarke asked, eyes wide. "You can do that?"

Lexa shrugged.

"Here's the moment I first laid eyes on you," Lexa said, noting the way the heart on the left pulsated quickly with a bright red light.

"And here's when you punched me." The heart screen filled with red, then beat at a steady hum as Lexa watched Clarke walk away.

"Mommy, mama! Owie!"

"She deserved it, Madi. She knocked all of Raven's books off the table."

"I didn't know she had a brace and Anya wanted to help her! You just got to me first."

Lexa fast forwarded to the next scene, where she and Clarke first kissed. "This is the moment I started thinking about it," Lexa whispered. The screen with the heart beat so rapidly, Clarke's own heart matched the rhythm inside her chest.

"And then when you finally kissed me," Lexa added, watching the screen flash like a strobe light.

Madi decided to give both her mommies a kiss then.

The heart beat slow and consistently when Lexa fast forwarded again to the day she told Clarke she loved her. "I wasn't nervous. I wasn't unsure. I knew I loved you."

"Mommy, Mama!" Madi shouted, pointing at the blonde and brunette on the screen.

Clarke's tears started to fall when she watched her wedding day through Lexa's eyes, and the way her heart appeared to have grown two sizes on the screen. "This is when you made me the happiest woman alive."

The next scene is the day Clarke told her she was pregnant, and Lexa's heart grew even more. The last scene is the day Madi was born, swaddled in Lexa's flannel. Clarke couldn't stop her tears when she saw the way Lexa looked at her and her daughter.

"This was the day my heart was finally complete."

Madi blurted, "baby!" At the screen, pointing at herself.

Lexa laughed turned the screen off to Madi's raucous applause. She cupped Clarke's cheek, wiping the tears from her eyes and said, "You get me. You're the best thing to have ever happened to me. You've given me happiness I could never imagine. There's nothing to be scared of. The only scary story would be the one where you aren't in my life."

#commander lexa #13daysofclexa #clarke x lexa #lesbians #clarke griffin #clextober2019 #magic!au #modern magic #clexafanfic #clexa fanfic #the 100 clexa #clexa #clextober19 #the 100 clarke #clarkegriffin #clarke #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic

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