#got!clexa

[popchoc]

Victory stands on the back of sacrifice.

[butmakeitgayblog]

for the reverse trope writing: divorce of convenience (something new or an au of your choice, both sound fun!)

Her eyes watch as the ink bleeds slowly into the paper. They watch neat, slanted script combine in the fragmented loops and dashes that make up that achingly familiar signature. X marks the spot. On the dotted line. Not a single scribble out of place; right where the lawyer had highlighted it in garish neon yellow.

Forever and ever.

They were eleven, and it's promising to always be best friends. The kind that stick together through thick and thin. Like white on rice, as their teacher  often said. 

Forever and ever.

They were fifteen, and it's smiling with the awkwardness of young love. The kind that sets fire to racing hearts from a first kiss stolen behind their school's abandoned gymnasium. 

Forever and ever.

They were seventeen, and it's shaking hands that still can't believe they get to touch their best friends that way. The kind of way that makes them both let out hungry sounds and pretty moans in the backseat of her dad's station wagon.

Forever and ever.

They were nineteen, and it's stiff-jawed goodbyes through desperate kisses. The kind rotten with promises that this isn't the end. That it's just a ‘see you later’, but never goodbye. Not for them.

Forever and ever.

They were twenty-eight, and it's handwritten vows and white satin gowns with matching bridal bouquets. The kind that they picked out together to remind them that all this was worth it, that it's finally the day they'd been planning for since their junior year in college. The culmination of sleepless nights and teary phone calls from three states away.

Forever and ever.

They were thirty, and it's whispering in the nursery  of their freshly furnished house, standing wrapped in each other's arms at the edge of an adorably small bassinet. The kind decked out in purple frills with sunshine yellow along the trim, because they'd agreed from the first plus sign to not know the sex. It's fingers running through brown curls carefully enough not to wake their baby up, while watching lashes twitch in dreaming that hide those baby blue eyes. The exact shape and shade that'd had them both wrapped around a tiny pinky from the start. 

Forever and ever.

They are fifty-four, and it's an empty nest that's too quiet in the house that sometimes feels too big. The kind they'd joked about missing for years, but now that it's here, they don't entirely know what to do with it. 

It's medical bills, and denied claims for benefits, and meetings with stuffy lawyers who explain the finer points of income brackets. It's physical therapy visits and losing her job at the hospital and endless prescriptions that never seem to be covered by their insurance. It's everything, and all the time, because life refuses to slow down for even one damn second, despite a hip that simply will not work anymore. 

They are fifty-four, and Clarke never thought she'd be here. That they'd make this kind of choice. Never thought she'd feel quite this stuck. Quite this useless. Never thought she'd be in this situation at all.

But it's clean and it's neat, just the way they like it. A mutual agreement for them both. A fresh start after the accident, one that'll let them move on with their lives, instead of trying to hang on to this thing that only leaves them drowning. 

At least that's what they'd agreed. 

She watches her wife— her ex-wife, dot the i's of her name with an overly dramatic flourish. Watches her click the pen with her thumb and toss it aside with a sigh from deep in her bones.

She smiles and feels her chest squeeze with that familiar pang of deep friendship and love.

“Cheers,” Clarke says, holding up her flute of champagne. 

She'd had to hobble through four different specialty liquor stores just to find it, but it'd felt fitting to toast the signing of their divorce papers with the same bubbly they'd shared on their wedding day.

Lexa picks up her glass and clinks it soundly against hers, only managing the barest sip around a smile of her own. “Cheers, single lady.”

“Mm. This is good.”

“Even better than I remember from the first time,” Lexa agrees as her gaze makes a lazy rake over Clarke's body.

It's not lost on Clarke how ridiculous it is to be blushing over the signed stack of her divorce papers, but something about the way Lexa looks at her has always set her on fire. 

“So,” she tries, casually, setting aside her cane and leaning heavier against the kitchen table, “what are you going to do next?”

Lexa takes another sip of her champagne, watching her closely over the rim. She swallows with a flex of that elegant throat and shuffles closer, sets her glass down on Clarke's other side, effectively boxing her in. 

“Go to Disneyland.”

The sound of Clarke's snort rings through the kitchen. “Smartass.”

“What about you?” Lexa asks with a bite to her lips, hands still bracketing the sides of Clarke's waist and eyes twinkling with mischief. “Any big plans for the future, newly divorced Ms. Griffin?”

Clarke scoffs. “Nice try. But it's still ‘Ms. Griffin-Woods’ to you.”

“Oh? Is that right?”

“Uhuh,” Clarke nods and loops her arms around Lexa's shoulders. “Sorry not sorry, but I'm never giving that one back.”

Lexa hums and presses closer. Paints her body to Clarke's curves and breathes her in the same way she has for forty years. 

“Greedy, but I think I can live with that.”

“Such a hardship. I seem to remember you loving that about me.”

“Among so many things.”

Clarke moans when Lexa's lips find the hollow dip of her neck, relaxing into the wet warmth of a plump, suckling kiss. Champagne has always made Lexa brazenly affectionate. She tips head back to grant more room and sucks in a gasp at the nibble of teeth. Tangles her fingers in greying, brunette hair that only serves to make her bombshell of a wife look that much more distinguished. 

Well. Her ex-wife, that is…

Hands trail down Clarke's hips and wrap tight around her thighs and before she can yelp a single word she's lifted onto the table. 

Lexa lets out a half-laughed grunt when she gets Clarke settled in place, looking equally as amused as she does grateful that the little maneuver actually still worked after so many years.

“You good, baby?” Clarke chuckles along with her, mindlessly going to rub the shoulder that had started being a pain around birthday forty-seven. “Didn't pop anything, did you?”

“No, I'm good, I'm good,” Lexa says, smiling and shaking off her ill-coordinated prowess like the champ that she is. “That just used to be easier.”

“Is that a crack about my weight?”

“More like a crack about me being old.”

“Oh. Well then yeah.”

“Rude,” Lexa gasps, taking the hips in her hands and pulling them closer. Pressing Clarke firmly against her stomach. “There's still giddy up in this old girl, I'll have you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“My, my, Ms. Woods—”

“Griffin-Woods,” Lexa's quick to correct. Suddenly serious in how intensely she stares Clarke in the eyes. “You're not getting that back either.”

They share a look because things like this have never required words. Not for them. But with everything and all of it, with the ink still drying on the paper beside them, Clarke gives in to her last bit of worry. 

“You're still my girl,” she whispers. Swallows. Feels a stinging prickle along her eyes at the sudden need to feel this connection with her favorite person in the world. “Even with me, and having to do all this… You know we're still us, right? You're still my girl?”

Clarke melts into the kiss she knows is coming because she knows this woman better than anybody, and it feels more like a promise that nothing could ever break them than any piece of paper ever could. She wraps her good leg around Lexa's hip and deepens it, kisses back with every ounce of love her heart has to offer. Cherishes each massage of tongue and slide of lips that have met thousands of times before. 

Lexa kisses her once, twice more, and pulls back with a soothing smile.

“Always, love… Forever and ever.”

[fratboykate]

Papi, are you alive? Thunderbolts trailer leaked and we got Hailee back from the dead (and there's the movie with Andrew and Florence and its KYAU coded as fuck) Kate and Yelena content galor this week. PLEASE COME BACK. We've been deprived for a year. It's been jail for too long. Grace us with Kate x Yelena content again. Pretty please.

*taps mic* Is this thing on?

[snixx]

the shame of not having moved on from faberry in the year of our lord 2024. we all need that one yearny pretentious ass depressed white girl queerbait ship that we will never get over leave me alone okay

[bottom-lexa]

Anyways so if I see y’all knowingly sharing AI ““ art”” you’re catching an unfollow and possibly a block too.

[lexa-griffins]

This one’s for farm Clexa (and I’m sorry if it’s been asked/answered before) but!!! What was their reaction seeing the baby for the first time in an ultrasound? And what was their reaction when they got to listen to that tiny lil heartbeat for the first time?

Lexa and Clarke have been very patient when it comes to having children. They always knew they would not be able to provide a lavish lifestyle for their kids, but they knew they had enough to bring up a baby happy, clothed and feed. And when the time to finally make that baby dream become a reality it was like they had been waiting for years - nearly five at that point, from the moment they got married.

The moment the pregnancy test showed a positive, Clarke was calling her mom and telling her to make the appointment. Clarke sobbed the moment the ultrasound technician said "here they are". It was a blob on screen, barely human but its theirs. Lexa stares at the screen with tears in her eyes, amazed that little life is growing inside of her - finally. She barely takes her eyes off of it when Clarke kisses her forehead. Their little baby. Theirs.

Even with the scans in hand tho, it is hard to believe the small dot on the screen is their baby. It feels surreal. It doesn't feel real. No matter how much Clarke kisses her tummy or how much Lexa caresses her still flat stomach, it is not until the heartbeat scan that it finally hits them that their baby is here.

The clinic in town is always calm. Lexa, with her slight dislike for doctors, seems to enjoy it this way. She's much calmer, anxious with the prospect of hearing the baby's heartbeat, but she feels at ease. Clarke, on the other hand, paces the room like a ball of energy, and did Lexa not share her excitement, she would have been annoyed with her wife. Instead, she rubs her barely there yet bump, slowly growing accustomed to the thought of their baby growing there.

The technician makes small talk, one Clarke participates in far more than Lexa, who offers only nods and the ocasional smile. Anxiety building, as the desire of hearing the baby's heartbeat mixed with concern that something could be wrong grows.

They check, moving around Lexa's stomach. Their baby is bigger. Oh how bigger they've gotten. And stronger too. Lexa smile only grows as the technician praises the baby's growth, how everything is exactly as it should be. Clarke's face red from smiling, this proud look on her face as she looks between her wife and how wonderful she's been so far and their baby on the screen.

"Want to hear the heartbeat?"

There is a deafening silence in the room as the ultrasound machine picks up the heartbeat. And then, it's there. Filling the room with the rhythmic tu tum. Over and over again. And then, a muffled sob. Lexa's hand on her mouth as she tries to no interrupt the sound of their baby's heartbeat, but she can not stop herself. Clarke, crying too, of course, it's all she ever does when she steps into this room, cradles her pregnant wife's face, and kisses her. One her forehead, on her cheek, on her nose, on her jaw. On her lips.

"That's our baby, my love. That's our little angel." Clarke whispers to Lexa, who can't do more than nod as she cries, smiling as she looks between Clarke and the screen, so much love and adoration in her heart she feels like she might just explode.

Before they leave, Abby forces them to take a Doopler with them. For the next few days, every down moment that used to be filled with the radio or silence is instead filled with the sound of little Madi's heartbeat, as Lexa and Clarke cant do much more than marvel at the little life they made.

[toriwritesstories]

my gay wall has been updated with my favorite girlies from Baldur’s gate 3. and to be clear this is my gay wall because I am gay for all celebs and characters depicted lol

and a closeup on the new Baldur’s gate corner

none of this art is my own (except the two small canvases haha) and I’m happy to share the artists’ redbubbles if anyone wants!

[unchartedcloud]

I know you haven't written smut in awhile but hOLY SHIT, I almost forgot how amazing you are at it! 100/10 earth shattering

Whyyyyyyy thank you 💁‍♀️ we always try to give the people (tm) what they deserve, and sometimes they deserve unhinged, wanton smut 🤷‍♀️ glad we haven't lost our touch

[puthyflapps]

Had a little thot about clexa’s baby having a tough time with teething 🥺

Clarke strolled through the city square of Polis with the little girl tucked securely against her chest and flanked by a group of imposing guards. She thought perhaps, taking the child on a relaxing walk in the warm afternoon sun might help soothe her restless little body. However, the effort seemed to be futile as the small form strapped to Clarke’s body continued to squirm in discomfort. The occasional whimper would escape the baby’s soft lips, and it sent sharp pangs of worry coursing through her mother’s heart. The young woman was just about to retreat back to the comfort of the Commander’s tower when she was approached by a familiar face.

“Wanheda,” the elderly woman greeted with a kind smile.

Clarke recognized her immediately as one of the many vendors who regularly visited Polis. Her name was Margaret, and if she remembered correctly, the older woman was known for selling a plethora of delicious fruits.

Being the Commander’s wife came with many benefits. One of which included being showered in gifts by the locals anytime she so much as stepped foot outside the walls of the tower. And with the recent addition of their daughter, the gifts only seemed to multiply. Vendors willingly and eagerly offered up a variety of goods ranging from clothes to toys and so much more. The woman before her was no different. Memories of earlier days when the blonde had first joined Heda in Polis flash before her eyes. Margaret had been one of the first people to welcome her with open arms, and she made it a point to surprise the sky girl with a new treat every time she walked past her stall in the marketplace.

“Hei,” Clarke responded in the woman’s native tongue. The skaikru woman was nowhere near fluent in Trigedasleng, but thanks to her wife, she had learned enough to hold a basic conversation. Clarke had even managed to learn a good deal of curse words thanks to Anya, a fact that both annoyed the Commander and delighted the General.

“For Heda,” Margaret stated with bright, caring eyes as she held up a wicker basket that was practically overflowing with colorful fruits.

One of the many guards traveling with the pair whose hands, unlike many of his fellow gonas, had managed to remain free of gifts for the Commander’s family reached out to graciously take the basket from the elderly woman.

“Her favorites from when she was a goufa,” explained the woman as her smile grew wider at the memories of the green-eyed natblida who visited her stall frequently, always eager to see what new treats awaited her.

The young mother can’t stop herself from mirroring Margaret’s dazzling smile as she envisioned a much younger version of her wife. Such exquisite images served only to leave her wishing that she had been born a child of Earth so that she might have gotten to experience such an innocent version of her beloved.

“Mochof Margaret, Heda is always grateful for your generosity.”

The grounder’s hazel eyes showed brightly, and her chest seemed to puff up with pride at the mention of Lexa. Clarke wasn’t sure she would ever get used to how much the people of the coalition loved her wife. From the moment they met, it had been obvious that Lexa would do anything for her people. It was one of the many characteristics the two young women shared and a large reason why the two were so drawn to one another. However, unlike her own people, the grounders seemed to reciprocate the Commander’s love tenfold. Individuals leaped at the opportunity to serve their Heda in whatever capacity they could, whether that be in the form of a powerful gona or a caring handmaiden. Vendors and craftsmen laid gifts at her feet not because they were seeking notoriety of some kind or because they wanted something in return from the powerful woman but because it was the only way the people of the thirteen clans could thank Lexa Kom Trikru for what she had given them — peace.

Clarke was soon brought out of her thoughts when she felt a stirring motion against her chest. She cast her attention away from the woman before her and towards the small bundle grunting unhappily in the sling wrapped securely around her body. Clarke's arms encircled her daughter's form, and she held the child closer to her chest as she began to sway back and forth. Doing her best to soothe the little one.

"Shhh, it's okay. We'll be home soon, I promise," Clarke whispered to the baby.

However, her sweet reassurances do nothing to ease the baby's pain. A fact that served only to make the ache in Clarke's heart more intense. The young woman casts an apologetic look over to Margaret, who's focused her attention on the small bundle in Clarke's arms. Worry etches its way across her face as she tries to understand what could have caused the Commander's daughter such great upset. Clarke pulls the fabric of the sling back enough to expose her baby's tear-streaked face. She lifts her finger to the child's plump bottom lip and pulls it down just enough to reveal the beginnings of a tooth.

Margaret's eyes widen in understanding as she sees what's been distressing the girl. The older woman rests a comforting hand on the small of the young mother's back as she lifts her other hand to signal for Clarke to give her a moment. Clarke watches Margaret's fleeting form in confusion, not understanding what the woman has set out in search of. It's only a matter of minutes before she returns with another delicious fruit. Mango, if she remembers correctly. She's had it a few times with Lexa during the days before their daughter had arrived, when they would hide away in their quarters, making love the whole time and pausing only to eat a quick meal here and there. Clarke notices this time, instead of cutting the treat into bite-size cubes, the typically oblong fruit has been sliced in half to reveal a rather large seed at its core.

"For the goufa," Margaret explains with her sweet eyes and warm tone.

She can sense Clarke's befuddlement. She can tell Clarke's unsure of what to do, so she pushes the fruit toward the little girl's mouth. Smiling contentedly when she sees her latch onto the fruit almost immediately. Margaret releases her careful hold on the mango when tiny hands come to rest on either side of it. Clarke smiles gratefully when her daughter's tears finally cease, and she begins to let out sighs of relief. It's a funny sight to behold, really. Her little baby holding on tightly to the fruit as she happily gnaws away. Using it as her own personal teething toy. She's never been more grateful for the connection between the people of Polis and their Commander than she is at this moment.

Clarke isn't entirely sure what Lexa's plans are for the rest of the day, but she does know that she'll be sending her back to Margaret's stall to purchase as many mangos as her gona can carry.

[like-wuatafauq]

I can't believe I'm actually debating on deleting this app but then I see my top 5 wlw ships be posted back to back and then suddenly I'm the teenager who made this account to express being a lesbian

[butmakeitgayblog]

Based on what you said about how you think the end of the pike blockade would go down, how do you think Lexa would react to Clarke being injured/nearly killed by Pike?

Bear with me here because I'm sure there's a lot of people who thin it would go down differently lol

But to be honest, I think a lot more would happen than just a Pike vs Clarke showdown of sorts. I think in the scenario that I gave - Pike ultimately losing his shit and going after Clarke for "treason" - that would force the entirety of the remaining Skaikru to really face themselves and the future of who they want to be as a clan/a people.

Bluntly, I think it would cause a flashpoint civil war.

By that point enough people would fed up with the living conditions under the blockade, fed up with Pike and his guard's power plays, fed up with constantly being pitted against each other exactly as they had been in space and every day since reaching the ground. Every day is fear, every moment is struggle. Because now not only are they expelled from the coalition AND the lands around them AND confined to yet another prison with limited resources and freedoms just as they were in space, but they're also being told point blank 'even if you wish to leave and start over outside of us, you can't. You're stuck here whether you like it or not.'

And pair that up with what Clarke has done to help them (despite their, whew, overwhelming tendency to blame her for goddamn everything 😒), I think enough people would just be so fucking done with it that it would indeed evolve into the chaos of a civil war.

And I think the first pop of gunfire would have Lexa and her army throwing themselves into the action. Not because is Lexa is terrified (tho she is) and not because Lexa would do something as foolhardy as throw herself into a gunfight if she thought Clarke were in danger (ha ok lesbian we've seen that play out 😐). But rather because, this has been the inevitable outcome all along. Pike was always going to make sure of that.

I don't think it'd be a popular decision. I don't even think Lexa would outright command her army to fight. But with her warriors already hungry for battle, what I believe Lexa would do is present the situation as a choice to follow her into the fray or not. Simply put: to show allegiance to the coalition or not. I think she'd remind them that despite the blockade, Skaikru is still one of the coalition's clans. That, just as she had promised, those who were still loyal to her sovereignty and the 12 clans had been working from the inside to unseat the rebel murderers - the same ones who had cut down their own fellow in arms. That the already growing number of Skaikru prisoners of war/refugees were a testament to that struggle and the will of the people trapped under an unjust, tyrant leader, and how they were proof of those machinations currently at play beyond the walls of Arkadia. The proof that they had allies inside.

But also, such as with most any uprising and revolts against injustice, more often than not in this gruesome world, blood must be spilled. And that this moment was their time to collect what is due. In the name of their fallen brothers and sisters. In the name of the coalition, and everything they stand for.

(Basically an emotion filled and lowkey manipulative call to arms 👀)

So between the coalition loyalists and those simply hungry for 'blood must have blood' payment for those they'd lost to Skaikru and Pike, a fair descent amount of warriors would join the fight to besiege Arkadia. Between the might of the coalition breaching their gates and the war raging inside among each other, Pike and his supporters who haven't defected themselves would be divided and spread too thin to cover all their sides, and eventually they'd fall one by one. Until surrender wasn't even a choice. It was a forgone conclusion.

And it would be very bloody, and very quick.

Ultimately, I don't think Clarke would necessarily have needed Lexa to intervene per se, because it would surprisingly(?) still be Octavia who kills Pike. In this she wouldn't be killing him as revenge for Lincoln (well not entirely, he's not dead, just locked up and treated like shit), but rather to set in motion Skaikru's final symbolic fall to the ground. Because in that moment, with Pike's gun pressed to Clarke's head, still desperate and deluded that he can use her pull as leverage to grasp at control even as the sounds of war rage on around them, I think Octavia would realize that was the moment when she had to choose where her allegiance lies: earth or sky. Past or future. Coalition or chaos. Clarke or Pike (and by proxy, Bellamy).

And she'd choose Clarke.

And Lincoln. And Indra. And the anger for what her her brother had become. And her hatred of being boxed in yet again. And the realization that without Pike's death, there would be no moving forward to truly build a new life on the ground.

So with Pike dead, and the Skaikru ~rebels~ rounded up, and the 13th clan surrendering to the coalition, it would be a quite a politically messy situation to tidy up. To say the least. But after Lexa issues orders for the remaining Skaikru to be tended to by healers, and brought food and water (and maybe a lil booze from the encampments to help them wind down) in good faith of their loyalty and return to the coalition, Lexa would nonchalantly escort Clarke back her personal tent (that she had failed to mention in her notes) at the frontline... and do everything she could to not fall to absolute pieces as she personally tended to Clarke's wounds.

But oh. Oh, Clarke would feel the way her entire body was shaking...

[kpforpresident]

Do plant shop clexa own any pets? What if Clarke brings home a kitten one day without telling Lexa because it was a stray? At first Lexa loves the kitten but quickly gets upset when she starts scratching, biting, and uprooting her plants

"Clarke, no." Lexa cannot help the halfhearted, exasperated smile that pulls at the side of her mouth as her wide-eyed girlfriend inches forward tentatively with what looks like a very fuzzy lump of coal in her hands.

Clarke gestures wildly in protest at what she knows will be a defensive argument by her botanically inclined girlfriend, clearly going on the attack to prove her case as the teeny black kitten sails within an inch of Lexa's nose. Lexa goes cross eyed trying to examine the animal as she refocuses, Clarke now cradling the baby protectively into her chest as the kitten meows in protest at the roller-coaster treatment.

"Someone left her all alone in a box outside the studio, Lex. A box-! She has no siblings, nothing, just a tattered little towel-"

Lexa raises a hand halfheartedly to cut off Clarke's indignant rant that she senses gathering like thunderclouds behind stormy blue eyes. She pinches the bridge of her nose halfheartedly to ward off the stress headache that she could feel brewing behind her temple.

She had known it would be something like this when instead of the series of excited voice memos and anecdotes that usually blew up her phone after Clarke had excited her studio for the day, a solitary text with a You home, Lex? lighting up her phone as the sun started its graceful meander below the horizon. Lexa, having loved Clarke almost as long as she'd known her, had signed and poured herself a glass of whisky and settled in to wait for her impulsive girlfriend to arrive home, knowing that she had some unknown in store for her.

Which, as fate would have it, would turn out to be an art studio parking lot kitten.

A neon green gaze peers out from between Clarke's parted fingers, the little ball of soot that Clarke has now named Hiro drinking Lexa in with a keen gaze.

Clarke, sensing that the kitten was having its non-verbal say, wisely held her tongue as Lexa and Hiro stared at each other for a long moment.

Prrt?

Hiro inquires softy at Lexa, the soft chirp punctuated by an inky paw waving halfheartedly through the gap in Clarke's fingers in Lexa's general direction as the small creature becomes slightly more inquisitive.

A long, graceful finger bridges the gap to stroke the fluffy black fur. Clarke fidgets slightly but stays silent as bright blue eyes flick excitedly between Lexa's thoughtful hand and Hiro's tiny frame.

Silence stretches on for a long moment as Lexa softly dances her fingers across the rim of the whisky glass, thinking.

A rusty, quiet purring breaks the moment as Hiro arches into Clarke's hands, rubbing her slender face against Clarke's palm.

Lexa follows the interaction quietly with narrowed eyes, sighing as she drains the last of her whisky.

"Fine, bring her in. But she gets a bath first thing, do you hear me, Clarke? And she's going to have to learn not to chomp any of my plants- do you hear that, Hiro? You have to be good, do you hear-"

Clarke, grinning from ear to ear, sails past Lexa with her miniature void in hand, Hiro rumbling contentedly as Clarke smacks a grateful kiss onto Lexa's cheek before running inside.

Clarke pretends not to notice when Lexa starts snuggling Hiro after long days at the shop, Hiro tucking up into Lexa's lap contentedly while she reads, small paws moving neatly as she kneads Lexa's thigh.

[tomwambsmilk]

The VISCERAL reaction this provoked in me……. The 100?????? The 100?????? I’m sorry, you the think the 100 was a masterpiece???????? The 100??????? I was there, Gandalf. I was in the fucking Clexa trenches when season 3 aired. I wrote discourse posts about queerbaiting and ‘bury your gays’ on a blog thats mercifully been deleted. Those were dark days, Gandalf. You are about to awaken a dark evil you do not understand

[chrlvctius]

"I'm not her clarke"

"I know"

[bottom-lexa]

Tarnished but so grand

Clexa || modern au

Chapter 37

Two big firsts for Lexa with Valentine's Day this year: firstly, it's the first Valentine's Day she is excited for because she and Clarke are going out, and secondly, it's her and Michael's first Valentine's Day as a married couple. Clarke has the entire day planned out for the two of them, and she is determined to make it a special one. Michael also has a date planned, but it's less special and took a lot less effort than what Clarke planned for Lexa. Clarke and Lexa have a little talk of the future as well, and most of this chapter is Clexa's date.

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