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I'm hoping that bol progresses to them admitting that they have needs that aren't being met and agreeing to help each other fulfill those needs but I'm also hoping that things go slowly with that and they really dig into the guilt one or both of them feel about it and then also have to deal with the trepidation surrounding how people around them will react. Especially costias family. Because I imagine costias family would have irrational fears regarding access to the child. I think anyone would really. And I hope Luna finds a surrogate too. Or adopts.

These are definitely all addressed, so yay 😌 (tho I’ll say one of these is switched around… just can’t say which cause that’s def spoilery 😄).

How other ppl react is gonna be a BIG thing!

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Curious to know if this story is unfolding for readers the same way I’ve been hoping it is (and also, talking about the story helps keep me engaged so I can finish chapter 12 which is currently 19k and close to being done… I think 😅)

What are you imagining is going to happen next?

Anything you’re hoping for?

Any guesses or theories you’d like to share?

Favorite bits so far? (Not only of this latest chapter specifically, but of the whole fic)

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It is correct/safe to say that if in few months since Costia died, Lexa and Clarke have developed (apparently) some feelings and a strong atracttion for each other, its because they felt something before? Not that they realized that in that time….

I’ll mark this with a read more since it’s spoilery

I think it’s safe to say they found each other attractive 🤔 both physically and emotionally. They have a sort of competitiveness and intensity to them they don’t have in the same way with other people, an appreciation for how the other works. To say it plainly, they just get each other, seem to wear the same type of weight on their shoulders. Weren’t afraid to call each other out or disagree. They understood each other so there was always a kinship there.

I would say in a way it was less “oh I’m super attracted to her” and more “oh I could be attracted to her…” and a baseline acknowledgment of “she’s exactly my type, but nothing is ever happening 🤷🏽‍♀️” that resulted in them automatically keeping a bit of a distance with each other, something they didn’t feel the need to do with anyone else (and also, at least in the case of one of them, compartmentalizing and trying not to ever think about it). Not necessarily because they let themselves consciously worry that it could develop into something, but because they could both sense something deeper there than was wise to explore. They were friends. Lexa and Costia were happy together, and that was that. Clarke was happy for them. That was how it had always been and they couldn’t imagine that changing.

I think that happens a lot in real life. People don’t magically stop being attracted to other people when they’re in a relationship; it just doesn’t matter, because you choose who you are with and you choose whether or not you let something grow where it shouldn’t. Choosing anything other than loyalty to Costia was never an option for either of them. It likely could and would have been much different, had Clexa somehow spent as much time with each other alone as they are now, but they didn’t.

But when you’re suddenly thrust together on a journey through life—when you’re both grieving together, both scared together, both healing together—well, things can change.

There’s a little more to it than that but for the sake of spoilers, I’ll leave it there ☺️

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Little sneak peek of the next chapter of BOL…

//

Lexa’s eyes snap open as she jolts awake to a flash of blinding light, the whole house shaking as thunder crashes in the night and her heart crashes in her chest. She sits up in bed, blankets pooling around her. It’s storming hard outside, rain pelting the roof, tree branches scratching at the window as the wind howls. A glance at the alarm clock shows it’s a quarter past four in the morning.

Lexa calms just seconds later, when soft hands smooth over the skin of her stomach. Then her heart stutters again, as she realizes those hands are on the bare skin of her stomach.

Clarke is clearly half asleep, instinctively reaching out to soothe her. Lexa relaxes, exhaling as she settles back onto the mattress, lifting an arm so Clarke is free to shift closer. She nuzzles her head onto Lexa’s chest, throwing a leg over Lexa’s. The hard swell of her belly presses into the side of Lexa’s, and her hand remains just under the hem of Lexa’s shirt, fingers drifting over skin in a mindless pattern.

Lexa swallows thickly as her eyes flutter closed, arms gentle but snug around Clarke, and absently strokes Clarke’s forearm that’s slung across her waist. There’s an ache, simmering in the pit of her stomach. A type of longing that’s been mostly hibernating for months.

Just the storm, she dismisses in her head. They’ve always had this effect on her. Something about them just wakes her up— literally and figuratively. It’s fine.

She releases a shaky breath and tries to let the sleepy, gentle touches on her hip carry her back to slumber, but it’s not working. She is, unfortunately, wide awake, even long after Clarke’s hand has stilled and she’s slipped into deep, steady breaths barely short of a snore. Another glance at the clock shows Lexa has been lying awake for over forty minutes. She bites back a groan. This is not how she wanted to start the day, but she might as well get on with it, because clearly she’s not going to be falling back asleep anytime soon.

As carefully as possible, she extricates herself from Clarke’s arms—pressing her lips together when Clarke’s hand drags across her stomach, fingers grazing the strip of skin just above the waistband of her sleep shorts—and gently tucking the blanket up around her. Clarke turns in her sleep, curling around Lexa’s pillow. Lexa takes a second to just look at her, at how her hair is lit up white gold when lightning flashes and the light spills in through the window, to illuminate half of the room. Lexa’s stomach turns with the sound of thunder.

You know what? She needs to do the safest thing possible to work off this energy.

Time to hit the gym.

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Since you first published BOL I've experienced loss from 3 generations in my gran, my dad and my brother and I just want to say how much I love your writing but how well you depict grief and everything that goes along with it, and that I have a new appreciation each time I read it x

🥺🥺🥺 I’m so sorry for your losses. It does make me happy that this fic can help with it! That’s what I hope for and what I try to think of every time I write for it 💗

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Between Our Love

Chapter 11 - when we sat in silence

Clarke’s gaze shifts from the strokes of graphite to the girl beyond the edge of the sketchbook, languidly stretching, arms above her head, before she’s even opened her eyes. Yeah, the drawings never come close to capturing the grace of the real thing.

Even when the real thing has messy bed-head and sleepy eyes as she blinks at Clarke as though surprised to see her there. Clarke snaps her sketchbook shut and looks at her, lips pressed together again in a vain attempt to curb the soft smile curving her lips. It doesn’t matter, really—not since Lexa’s lips are curving too, and she’s ducking her head into the pillow almost bashfully.

“Good morning,” she says, voice still a sleepy rasp. “How long have you been up?”

“Not long,” Clarke says, though a glance at the clock tells her she’s been sketching for over half an hour. She doesn’t correct herself, and stands to slip the sketchbook in a random drawer. “You want some breakfast?”

Lexa’s noncommittal hum has Clarke huffing as she turns to face her. She knows Lexa. She’s hungry, she’s always hungry—but she doesn’t want to get out of bed. By Lexa’s lips tugging up into a grin, she’s fully aware Clarke is reading her like a book, but she knows Clarke, too. She pointedly pats the mattress beside her.

They both giggle when Clarke immediately flops into bed. Lexa shifts back a little bit to make room, but they still share the same pillow, faces inches apart. Lexa’s eyes are a lovely pale shade of green this morning.

They avert after a moment, Lexa turning to burrow her face into the pillow again. Clarke snorts, and after a beat, Lexa’s muffled voice says, “I’m still sleepy.”

Clarke laughs quietly. “This is late for you, you’re usually up for a run by now.”

“What time is it?”

“Eight thirty.”

Lexa makes a sound somewhere between a grunt and a groan, and Clarke’s amusement grows, especially when Lexa finally lifts her head to turn to face her again. The fine baby hairs around Lexa’s hairline are fluffy and wild from the pillow; her eyes are so green right now, flecks of gold visible and glowing in the pale sunlight streaming through the blinds.

Clarke’s smile is as soft as the way she brushes errant hair out of Lexa’s face. “How are you doing?”

Read on ao3

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I just updated BOL a couple days ago, and this chapter included a reference to something I told my nana when my pa died: 15 seconds.

I forgot it was my Pa’s birthday today. It’s always so bittersweet when you get to that stage where you wake up sad and you can’t remember why until later. I didn’t realize until I saw this post my Nana shared earlier today.

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Between Our Love ~ Clexa Surrogacy AU

I  II  III IV V VI VII VIII IX X

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Between Our Love ~ Clexa Surrogacy AU

I  II  III IV V VI VII VIII IX

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Between Our Love ~ Clexa Surrogacy AU

I  II  III IV V VI VII VIII

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New chapter of BOL will drop sometime this week 😊

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I hope you decide to update this AU some day. Have a nice day and an even nicer year!

Thanks buddy 💗 I appreciate it. It’s really not a matter of “decide” because I’ve already decided to finish this loooong ago! More a matter of “feeling in a good place to write for it.”

I mean I think of this au all the time. Frequently open my working doc of it. But God, it’s so heavy, and the world is heavy right now with everything going on, it can be hard to actually sit down and work on it.

Don’t worry though— I fully intend to 😄 just chipping away at it slowly!

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Jane Austen // Nizar Qabbani

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You know what I think its grossly under-rated in fandom? Second loves.

What it's like to love and lose and then love again. To suffer through either the death of a loved one or the death of a love you used to share. To know that loss, to know that hurt, and to still make yourself vulnerable to someone again. To love scared, to love wounded, to love anyway.

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