#when compared to lexa

[lexa-griffins]

Do you think Kara and Madi would be friends if they met each other?

I think so yeah! As kids mostly, as teenagers I think they'd annoy each other too much - they are both basically Clarke rebranded in different packages, so it would be very easy for them to butt heads. As kids too, they have similar energy levels and both adore playing pretend in adventurous ways, feeling like they are on long journey to a castle far away. They also know what having a big family feels like, Kara feels like she has so many siblings she can no longer keep count and Madi is a big sister of a whole little army. As teens tho, I think Kara is very ambitious because her moms always pushed her towards that, she wants to go to college and be a journalist and she has all these dreams of owning a publication one day which could make Madi, who isnt big on school and although smart is a more practical way, isnt too studious and wants the same simpler life her moms had and intendeds on staying in her small town and on her parents farm and make a living out of it. So they would very quickly grow apart, as their views in life change because of their different backgrounds (which... are really different. While their moms are still Lexa and Clarke, there is difference between two women who went to college, are high achiever and decided to secure a career before starting a family and two women who wanted to have a life that is much more quiet and peaceful and who got married very young and spent years saving every penny to rebuild their dream home and their dream life... thinking off, i actually think cheerleader/jock clexa and farm clexa would probably not be the biggest fans of each other)

#letter opened #cheerleader lexa x jock clarke #farm clexa #this was just a wall of text 😅 #but uh now im thinking of cheerleader lexa meeting farm lexa.......... #child welfare advocate social worker Lexa who fosters would find the number of kids farm!lexa has in such a small house problemati #and the fact they do farm chores would also mot sit well with her #and im not saying farm lexa is a perfect mom #but the truth is that she truly does her best with the little she has.... which cheerleader lexa wouldnt understand #because when comparing their lives cheerleader lexa had a rather privileged life and opportunities farm lexa never had #jock clarke and farm clarke would be fine with each other at first #but the more they talk the more they dislike each other #i am rambling at this point 😅

[gorgonwoman]

i caved & finally read gideon the ninth and im HEARTBROKEN please someone give me spoilers for the other book/s and tell me if she lives or not

#p #is it worth it to continue reading 😭 #the betrayal I felt at the end was comparable to when I watched Lexa die onscreen as a teenager

[aphrodites-law]

Clarke wakes up eight years in the future, where her college best friend happens to be her girlfriend. Part 5/? (Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4)

It was such a beautiful day that Clarke almost felt bad they’d sit in a dark movie theater for two hours. Lexa seemed happy to just hold her hand as they walked down the street, chatting about one of the business projects she was working on. 

Clarke knew questions about Lexa’s work were like flirting with danger. There was no way Other Clarke didn’t already know everything about her girlfriend's career, while she could barely hold the conversation. Parks and the environment had never made her feel so dumb. Luckily, Lexa didn’t seem to notice any gaps in her knowledge — or lack thereof. 

If Clarke was still on edge about the whole situation, at least it would’ve been nice to have some advantages. Her memory being so selective was a thorn in her side. It was like she was forced to walk this future with horse-blinders on because she might break it irreparably otherwise. It was all so… careful, tailored, that Clarke was starting to reconsider her stance on dorky sci-fi. Maybe Raven had cobbled together some kind of monstrous time machine and then stored it in Lincoln’s basement. 

“Do you want Milk Duds?”

Clarke tried to refocus. They’d arrived at the concession stand of the multiplex, where  a teenager was shoveling popcorn in a paper bag. Clarke didn’t remember this theater in particular, but the buttery-sweet smell put her at ease. Lexa and her went to the movies whenever they could, treating themselves to sweets. It was familiar territory for once — there was nothing to worry about. 

“No, you always hoard them,” Clarke replied mindlessly. 

“Do not,” Lexa protested. “You just take forever to eat them.”

“You have to suck the chocolate first.”

“Here we go.” 

“What kind of person just bites into them right away?!” 

“I don’t know you and I don’t hear you.”

Clarke grinned, finding it so much easier to fall into their banter than more serious exchanges. When the teen set their popcorn on the counter, she reached for her purse to pay but heard a snort and the smooth swipe of Lexa’s credit card.

“Yeah, right,” Lexa said. 

They made their way down the hall toward their screen. 

“So I can’t pay for my own food at 30?” Clarke teased. 

“Not the day of, grandma.” 

“Wow, look who’s talking now.” 

Lexa pinched her ass so fast that Clarke let out a startled gasp. 

—

It was a coming of age story on the raunchy side, with loud scenes and moody visuals in nightclubs and college dorms. Clarke felt completely disconnected from the story, knowing she would forget it soon. The more obvious reason was that they were done with the popcorn and now Lexa had her hand on her bare thigh. 

She wasn’t even… doing anything, but it was there, and Clarke didn’t care about any character or any damn plot point because her best friend’s fingers were touching her skin. She could admit that much. 

The real mistake had been comparing how Lexa and her usually acted at the movies. Sitting next to each other, sharing food or candy, but never… touching with purpose. Inevitably, Clarke wondered how she would’ve reacted if her Lexa had ever attempted this. If she’d held her hand and made no move to let go. Clarke wanted to believe she would’ve been effortlessly cool about it, but her current state showed otherwise. 

Breathing was a tall order and her hands felt clammy. There was no one behind them at least.

“Lexa…” she whispered, glancing at her. 

Lexa had a small smile but seemed otherwise focused on the movie. Her hand inched up higher, beneath her dress, and then stilled again. 

In the cover of darkness, Clarke realized her assumption she’d be safe from her own desires was a joke. The secluded but still public space made it worse – forbidden in the kind of way that made her ache. Now it made sense why Lexa had responded so positively to her movie suggestion. 

From the way her body was reacting, Other Clarke clearly had a fantasy for this type of situation, and Clarke had tapped right into it. Which was unfair, because how could she know she enjoyed this before she even knew it! 

“Fuck,” she cursed, her fingers digging into the armrest. With her free hand she reached for Lexa’s wrist, a weak attempt to stop her.

“Lexa,” she repeated quietly. “What are you doing?”

Lexa drew small circles on Clarke’s skin, like an apology. Only it wasn’t. “It’s okay, baby,” she murmured a few seconds later. “Sit back.”

There was… no way. Clarke couldn’t. She couldn’t. But her heart had started pounding and the heat in the pit of her stomach felt unbearable. She knew this feeling but never this intense. There was no scenario where she didn’t take care of this. And to Lexa, there was no scenario where she didn’t care of this. 

Which was exactly why Clarke needed to choose her next words carefully: “Not here,” she pleaded, and then: “I’ll be too loud.” 

It had the effect Clarke had hoped for. Lexa lost all semblance of control and looked at her, her mouth parted open and her expression unreadable. Yet in the dark room, Clarke could still see the change in her. Could feel how her hand’s soft touch turned into a possessive grip. Fingers pressing into flesh, then her thumb rubbing against the spot as if she worried she’d hurt her. 

Lexa was quiet for a beat, then cleared her throat and gathered their belongings. “Come on.”

She’d entwined their hands without Clarke even realizing it, or maybe it was her who’d reached out first. Clarke wasn’t sure she could tell left from right anymore, or if she could even walk to wherever it was Lexa was taking her. They left the room discreetly, but the lights in the hall did nothing to snap Clarke out of her mounting desire. 

It felt like the fight had been lost the moment she’d suggested they go slow. Slow had meant eventually, and with Lexa, eventually seemed to only take a few hours. 

—

The restroom was miraculously empty for now, but the toilet stall Lexa had dragged her in was a tighter space than expected. Clarke felt a thrill.

Lexa pressed her against the door with little restraint, hand cupping her cheek as she kissed her deeply.

Clarke pulled back and looked into her eyes, knowing she didn’t want to stop her. It wasn’t just how her body reacted to Lexa’s hands or mouth. Wherever they were, from the comfort of their apartment to the cramped confines of this stall, she felt home. Home with Lexa. Attuned to her touch, her smell and her taste. The most mind-bending, confusing event of her life was happening, yet she felt safe. Tethered to this new life as if it was her own. Or could be, at least. 

Lexa rubbed their noses together. “Breathe,” she whispered. 

Clarke tangled her fingers in her hair. “I’m okay. Just wondering… why the toilet is the romantic setup I get.”

“What do you mean?” Lexa replied with a smirk. “You love traditions.”

“Tradi-”

Lexa kissed her again, her full lips like warm velvet against hers. She kissed her until it almost felt silly that was all they were doing, and really, Clarke was sick of fighting this. She reached for Lexa’s hands and brought them to her breasts, where Lexa needed no further instruction to palm them. 

“Fuck, Clarke, I can’t do the whole slow thing anymore.”

“You can’t?” Clarke repeated pointlessly, too lost in the feeling of Lexa’s hands on her body. 

“It’s your birthday,” Lexa said against her neck, inhaling when Clarke tilted her head to the side. “And I have so many presents to give.”

Her hands went down to her waist, her ass, and then pushed her dress up. She never looked away from her, smile growing as Clarke’s eyes darkened. 

“Lexa…” 

It was all she could find to say. Just the name of the woman in all her thoughts. She felt so needy; a need to connect with Lexa in all the ways they never did in her time. She pulled her close and kissed her, chasing her tongue. When Lexa moaned, she was reminded of what she’d told her earlier – how her kisses felt different. Clarke thought, good, let them be different. Let Lexa be surprised too. It was only fair. 

Lexa’s hand was beneath lace in a matter of seconds, fingers finally pressing against her. 

“Oh, god,” Clarke breathed out, knees buckling. 

“I’ve got you,” Lexa promised, firmly holding her thigh up with her other hand. 

When she entered her, Clarke’s body felt so overcome with pleasure she briefly worried she’d come on the spot.

“So wet,” Lexa husked in her ear. “I wish I could get on my knees. But not yet.”

Fuck. Clarke closed her eyes, thankful for the small mercy. She wouldn’t have been able to stop Lexa from licking into her if she wanted. Not even for a second. She could only focus on her fingers filling her, harder and faster with every moan that slipped out of her. 

Lexa took her quickly, like she worried someone would rob them of this moment if she didn't. Or couldn't wait to see her fall apart. Her eyes never looked away and her skin had a slight shine under the harsh light. She’d never looked more confident; more beautiful. And Clarke felt attractive too, though… with her tits nearly out of her dress, her leg hooked around Lexa’s waist and her fingers buried deep inside her, she should’ve felt dirty. And well, she did, but not in a way where she’d later feel empty. Where she’d be reminded she was someone you had fun with, but that was all. Lexa made her feel like a fucking bombshell. Was showing her that they were on the same page in every facet of this relationship.

Clarke wanted to last longer but couldn’t, needing release like she needed air. It hit her hard, just as Lexa found a different spot and adjusted her angle, because of course she knew every inch of her body. She muffled her moans in Lexa’s top, though she doubted it helped.

Lexa pressed small, tender kisses on her neck while she rubbed her clit in tight circles, whispering I love yous between Clarke’s sighs. For a moment they simply came down the same euphoric wave together, not in a rush to find the world again. When she finally pulled out, Clarke whined in protest. She couldn’t get enough, now wanting nothing more than to make Lexa feel the same. 

She’d crossed the line, and there was no part of her that wanted to go back. 

#clexa #clexa fic #w #well she lasted half a day it's not too bad #f: citf

[heda-in-the-clouds]

Finding Your Love by Moonlight

Clarke Griffin did not want to be at this Halloween party right now. She was dragged here by Raven, whose girlfriend, Anya, was hosting said party.

Dragged here against her will, Clarke refused to put any effort into her costume, chosing to simply wear her old Sailor Moon shirt, a nod to her old childhood crush.

However, Clarke did not expect her current crush, Lexa Woods, to be at this same party. Moreover, Clarke was not prepared to see Lexa dressed immaculately as Sailor Moon.

In stark contrast to Clarke's pathetic shirt, Lexa wore the full costume, including the iconic blonde wig, white gloves, red boots, and the signature sailor uniform with its sinfully short skirt.

To her embarrassment, Clarke was spotted by Lexa from across the room, making her feel so underdressed compared to her crush who strutted towards her.

"Nice costume. I didn't know I had competition, Clarke." Lexa giggled.

"Thanks, Lexa." Clarke nervously replied as she found herself face to face with her real life crush dressed up as her childhood crush.

"But let's be honest. You're actually Sailor Moon with your costume. You look amazing!" Clarke confidently reaffirmed as she checked out Lexa from head to toe.

"Thank you Clarke. That means so much to me." Lexa smiled widely as her cheeks blushed from Clarke's compliment.

"I actually made this costume myself. My guilty pleasure is cosplaying and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to dress up as my favorite superhero. I swear I had the biggest crush on her." Lexa gushed.

Clarke's eyes widened in surprise. She couldn't believe Lexa, the hottest girl she knew, was into cosplay and shared the same crush as her.

"No way! I had a crush on Sailor Moon growing up too. She was actually my bi-awakening." Clarke confessed with pride.

Surprisingly, the conversation flowed easily between them once they discovered their shared love of Sailor Moon. Clarke loved seeing how passionate Lexa became when she discussed how she made her costume so it didn't come as a total surprise when Lexa asked her

"Hey Clarke. Would you like to take a closer look at my costume? We can go somewhere quieter and more private like my room if you want."

"I'd love that." Clarke eagerly replied as she allowed Lexa to grab her hand and lead her away from the party towards her room.

Coming soon to AO3

I'd like to thank the lovely @lexa-griffins for creating this amazing moodboard for me and beta'ing this drabble

Also, here's my manip of Lexa in her full Sailor Moon costume

#clexa #clexa au #clexa fic #clextober #clextober23 #rory's stuff #rory's fic #rory's sin #my writing #cosplayer!Lexa #sailormoon!Lexa #clexamanip #clexa edit #lexa #lexa edit #g!p clarke griffin

[femininenachos]

Is lexa as thirsty on first sight as Clarke. And does she do this often with tourists or just Clarke

Previously: Part 1 | Part 2

The music is loud. Pounding, frenetic rhythms mix with traditional instrumentation to create something primal and hedonistic and unlike anything Clarke has ever heard before outside of those weird YouTube clips from the Eurovision Song Contest that Wells subjected her to once.

She’s… kind of vibing with it.

The club itself is small, packed wall to wall with more gorgeous people than should be legal in one place. If she hadn’t already glided straight past the doorman on the way in, Clarke might’ve worried about falling short of the prerequisite high beauty standards that seem to be an unspoken rule for entry here. Everyone looks expensive, like they just stepped off a yacht en route from Cannes or St Tropez. Glamorous and tan and attractively dewy under the shifting lights.

Comparatively, Clarke feels conspicuous in her H&M floral print, conscious of the sheen of perspiration on her skin, of her hair starting to curl and frizz in the humidity when she hasn’t even set foot on the dance floor yet.

Not that Lexa seems to pay any mind to the endless stream of beautiful women that traipse past, locked on as she is on Clarke. It boosts her ego. Makes her forget about the sweat collecting under her boobs and the hair sticking to the back of her neck. With Lexa’s undivided attention on her, Clarke feels like the hottest chick in the entire fucking Med, and that’s the delusional energy she wants to channel right now.

While the rest of their group are somewhere in the midst of the crowd, she and Lexa remain on the periphery, entirely fixated on one another as they sip their rum and cokes. 

It’s impossible to hear herself think, much less carry on a conversation, so Clarke lets her gaze do the talking over the rim of the glass instead, making a slow, deliberate sweep over Lexa’s slim figure and not being shy about it, blatantly staring at those long, long legs for a long, long stretch. Biting her lip at the thought of them wrapped around her waist, or better yet, spread open for her mouth to dive between.

Clarke has to gulp down an involuntary moan and suck harder on her straw to deal with that mental image.

When she forces her eyes back up at last, Lexa’s lips are pulled to one side, like she knows exactly what’s running through Clarke’s mind.

It fuels her impulsive streak, gives her the courage to relieve Lexa of her drink and put both glasses aside. She takes a step forward, seeing the breath Lexa draws in, how she visibly swallows. Dark eyes drift to Clarke’s mouth, then lower. Trailing over her collarbones and the tops of her breasts, down to the twin bumps of her nipples. Clarke allows herself a private smile, flattered by the naked lust in Lexa’s expression. Lips parted and pupils blown wide, almost eclipsing the green of her irises.

Clarke brings her mouth next to Lexa’s ear, and the intoxicating mix of scents—conditioner, perfume, the dusting of light makeup on her skin—are enough to make her light-headed.

“Dance with me?” 

Not waiting for an answer, Clarke retreats and crooks her finger in invitation. Pivots on her heel, trusting that Lexa will follow her into the crush of bodies.

Lexa doesn’t disappoint. 

Within seconds of being absorbed into the crowd, there’s a warm, solid presence at Clarke’s back. Graceful hands find her waist, drag up her sides and skim across her bare shoulders as she starts to move, swivelling her hips to the beat, bass so heavy it feels like the air around them is pulsing. Lexa moves with her. Grasps Clarke by the hips, guiding her into a slow, sensual grind at odds with the tempo. In their own little bubble, they’re oblivious to the heaving mass of sweaty bodies on all sides, too focussed on each other to take notice of anyone else. At least until Clarke spots Octavia giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up despite being draped all over Lincoln less than five feet away.

Soft lips brush the shell of Clarke’s ear and she shivers into the press of Lexa’s hands. 

“Turn around.”

Clarke does, and her breath hitches at the sight of hooded eyes only an inch from her own, jet black and burning with desire. 

A stab of arousal pierces through her. Makes her knees buckle a little, and it’s pure reflex that she grips Lexa’s shoulders to steady herself.

Lexa pulls her closer, hips and thighs bumping. Nothing but a thin slice of muggy air separates their mouths, lidded stares affixed to each other’s lips. Clarke’s fingers slide beneath the thick fall of Lexa’s hair, gripping the slick skin at her nape, feeling the sweat that’s broken out there.

Their noses graze and Clarke inhales sharply in readiness, but Lexa veers to the side to speak directly into her ear.

“Can I kiss you?”

The rush of hot breath over her earlobe sparks another shiver in Clarke, tingles running down her arms. But it’s the question, the pause to seek consent that causes a flood. She clings to Lexa more tightly, using her grip to bring their mouths together in lieu of a verbal response, coaxing Lexa’s open with a lick. Her lips part on a moan that’s more vibration than actual sound, and Clarke doesn’t hesitate to dip her tongue inside.

In a flash, it’s full of searing heat and hunger. 

All the green light Lexa needs for her hands to reach around Clarke’s hips, to roam over her ass and squeeze her through her dress. Sometime between the second and third kiss, when Lexa tips her head the other way and recaptures her lips, a knee pushes between Clarke’s, pushing up and in, and the firm pressure makes her gasp, hips tilting down to meet it of their own volition.

Lexa’s mouth is urgent, sliding along her own, devastating to Clarke’s last two remaining brain cells and her underwear. She’s already soaked and she wonders if Lexa can feel it through the thin barrier of cotton against her bare thigh. 

Clarke groans a little at the thought, fingers twisting in Lexa’s hair. Reclaiming her mouth, angling deeper, and licking into her again. Worth it for the way Lexa’s movement falters and she pulls Clarke harder against the smooth length of taut muscle, fully and unashamedly riding her thigh now. Too far gone to care that she’s seconds away from coming right here in the middle of the floor. Lexa must sense it from the motion of Clarke’s hips, growing faster and more erratic while her nails scratch mindlessly at Lexa’s nape and the kisses turn messier, Clarke’s breathing gone thin and rapid as she pants into Lexa’s open mouth.

So it’s a rude shock when Lexa breaks away all of a sudden.

Being denied so close to the brink, Clarke doesn’t have the presence of mind to contain the growl of frustration that escapes.

She opens her eyes, annoyed and affronted, only to catch the positively feral look on Lexa’s face—like she’s just as close to losing control—and the complaint dies in Clarke’s throat. 

Lexa leans in close then, raising her voice to be heard above the music.

“Not here.” Lips brush against the sensitive shell of Clarke’s ear, and a warm current bolts down her spine and zaps her between the legs. “I want to fuck you where nobody is watching us.”

Her whole body flushes hot at the promise in those words, knees going weak once more, but it also feeds her determination.

She doesn’t think twice about grabbing Lexa by the hand. Clarke pulls her through the crowd and off the dance floor, exchanging a knowing smirk and raised eyebrow with Octavia on the way out, a mutually approving get it, girl that needs no further elaboration.

They exit into the balmy night, past the people milling around outside, smoking and laughing in small groups. Clarke doesn’t let go until they’re some distance away, reaching into her purse with slightly clumsy fingers to fish out her phone and pull up the group chat:

I’m with Lexa DO NOT DISTURB

Followed by a tongue and three water splash emojis, just to hammer the message home, because she will not let ambiguity jeopardise her chances here.

As soon as Clarke’s phone is safely tucked back in her purse (on silent), Lexa turns her around and guides her backwards, pressing her up against the nearest wall. The stone is rough against her skin, but Clarke barely feels it, too attuned to all the places Lexa is touching her.

Hands come to rest on either side of Clarke’s neck, sliding up to curve around her jaw, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones, the confident touch playing havoc with her senses. Those eyes are eating her up, and Clarke can’t seem to draw enough oxygen into her lungs. 

They both tilt in, mouths hovering close but not quite closing the gap. Sweet, rum-tinged breath spilling over their parted lips as they engage in a teasing game of advance and retreat, until at last Clarke loses all patience. She grabs onto Lexa’s waist. Tugs Lexa’s body against her own and kisses her. Hard. Demanding. Enough to raise a low moan that sets every nerve ending alight. 

She runs her tongue over Lexa’s plush bottom lip and pushes inside, and it quickly escalates into the kind of aggressively steamy makeout that even Octavia might consider too risqué for a public place.

Greedy hands slide under Lexa’s sweat-damp shirt to seek the warm, slick skin at the small of her back where the cut-offs hang low. Clarke lets her fingers drag up and down. Uses her nails as a test and relishes the quiet hiss it gets her, the low noise that catches in Lexa’s throat. 

The kiss breaks on a shared, shuddering exhale.

With Lexa’s gaze, dark and heavy with want, zeroed in on her mouth like that, Clarke only feels herself get wetter.

God, if they don’t take this someplace more private soon she might just let Lexa shove her panties aside and have her right here.

She aches at the thought.

But, no. Not even footloose and fancy-free Vacation!Clarke is that girl.

“Taxi? I’m staying in a villa on the other side of the island with my friends.” She lifts an eyebrow, a little more huskiness in her voice when she adds, “I have my own room...”

The invitation is clear: come home with me and finish what you started

#Lexa is very thirsty indeed #vacation au #I’m hoarding asks until they fit with what I’ve written or plan to write #to anyone I haven’t answered yet that’s why sorry! #my fic

[blu3haw4]

"That's not going to fit" for the made up fic title

Okay, two thing came to my head.

The first one would be a smutty cracky one-shot where either Clarke or Lexa tell each other that when the other puts out a strap/dick if we're going for G!P

The longer one, would be a repetitive sentence said between the two usually refering to clothing. Something like:

It was their thing. Their one true inside joke. Their line.

The first time was a little of a surprise. First time Lexa stayed over at Clarke's, they hadn't know each other for all that long and it was a circunstancial necessity more than a plan. They had met up for a coffee close to Clarke's place and out of nowhere a storm hit and it was too dangerous for Lexa to go back home.

Clarke offered Lexa more comfortable clothes to spend the night but Lexa kept dismissing the idea. The sentence came right when the stubborn pair were a little done with each other, Clarke having brought out a pair of sweat pants and shoving them into Lexa's hands before trying to push her to the bathroom to change.

"C'mon, Lexa, you can't tell me you're comfortable in those jeans! Just put on my sweatpans!"

Lexa throws the sweatpants back, annoyed and a little embarrassed that she's probably going to have to confess why she doesn't want to try them on.

Clarke huffs, grabbing the waist of the pants and pulling them up in the air in a 'see? Nothing wrong' gesture.

Is a single raised eyebrow that follows the gesture that breaks Lexa.

"That's not going to fit!" She huffs, and then pouts. Because she knows.

She's not ashamed to say she's looked at Clarke's figure more than once, she paid attention because- well, she's only human and they've been dating for a little while. It wasn't a crime.

It all came with comparation though, she knew her cleavage wasn't as prominent as Clarke, she knew she was taller than her soon to be girlfriend, she knew she was more tones and less curvy in most areas.

She knew her ass and hips were much wider than Clarke.

"It's not going to fit" Clarke breath, frowning at the sweatpants.

Because of course she knew too. She's looked too, if there was one thing about Lexa's body -that she knew thus far- that she liked was her figure, how her pants and dresses always seem to put up a fight with her hips and bottom. The tightness she could notice was the reason she proposed Lexa wear something more comfortable. How could she have been so stupid to no realize those hips would never go past the waistband of her sweats.

The awkwardness would last long and they would soon find other ways to make Lexa comfortable (if you know what i mean)

Another memorable time would be in the rush of the moment. A kiss turned make out session on the couch of Lexa's shared apartment with her sister, quickly scaling into something that involved much less clothing.

A ring tones, or a car door closing outside would alert them of the fact that Anya would walk in too soon. In the rush of getting presentable Lexa would throw Clarke a tshirt from the floor.

"This isn't mine"

"Doesn't matter, put it on!" Would leave Lexa's mouth before she can stop it.

They would pause. Looking at each other, with Lexa in just her sweater and Clarke holding Lexa's shirt against her chest.

It's a shared thought.

'That's not going to fit'

Blushing and giggle Clarke would throw the tshirt back, laughing out "that's not going to fit!"

"Unless you strech it!" Lexa would laugh too making Clarke fake-ofended chase her through the apartment to Lexa's room.

By the time Anya would walk in they would've long forgetten it all started because of her arrival

And so on, i could think of a million other little moments that they would say this to each other and why not, bring in the strap one.

#anon #writing prompt #technically speaking #made-up fic tittle #thank you anon #i had fun #i wrote this on the bus on my way home #i have a headache now for staring at the scree while moving all that time #but well #it was fun still #clexa #clexa fic

[butmakeitgayblog]

Not gonna lie mbfw Lexa is pissing me off. I love her, but girllllll

She is a baby you leave her alone 🥺👉👈

No but seriously, just try to feel a little empathy for her because she's not a bad person. There's a reason Clarke has stuck around for all these years. There's a reason Raven of all people is still very much in Lexa's corner, and at least in her case it certainly isn't because she's in love with the goofy big foreheaded ass girl 🥴. You just have to put yourself in Lexa's shoes. Her father abandoned her before she was even born and her mother died when she was just a baby - knowingly leaving her to be brought up by grandparents that resented her and treated her with disdain her entire childhood and teen years. Always letting her know that she was a burden, always making her feel like she was an imposition and an obligation. Never loving. Never supportive. And then the second they found out something actually very intimate about her that partially defines who she is as a person, they kicked her out to fend for herself without so much as a goodbye. She's spent her entire life feeling alone and unloved and very much as though she's only worth what she can work for.

Then you drop her into this situation where she's finally made it out and she's starting fresh in college, still struggling to make something of herself all on her own, feeling like this is the time when she either succeeds or fails for the rest of her life. And on top of that you have Clarke. And the Griffins. Who are this wealthy, happy, successful family who seem to have it all put together. They are the Brady bunch compared to her upbringing, and they're just... offering Lexa a place at the table? Unearned? Without strings? Or so they say.

That's a terrifying prospect for someone like Lexa 😔 So what does she do? Falls back on her instincts. Trying to rewrite 19 years worth of self preservation instincts in the span of a few month long relationship was just a recipe for disaster.

#anon #MBFW

[sassymajesty]

Sassy can you sure a bits of the new chapter of only if for a night, pleassssseeeeeeee🥺?

From the corner of her eyes —because she’s still focused on her to-do list and picking out what’s next on it—, she notices Clarke getting up from her seat and making her way up the room until she’s right beside Lexa.

“Hey,” Clarke says, leaning her hips against the desk, so close Lexa can smell the fresh spice notes in her perfume. If her voice is a touch too soft, Lexa makes the executive decision of ignoring it.

“I think I can draft the emails for most departments without having to meet with them again.” Lexa scans the bullet points she had jotted down before the department meeting and compares them with the ones on the pad she and Anya shared during this morning, “I trust you’re good to go with Finances, but I’d still like a paper trail.”

“Let’s go have a drink.”

Blinking through her exhaustion, Lexa looks up at Clarke, sure her brain is playing tricks on her. “What?”

“You, me. Cheap beer.” Lexa watches Clarke’s lips as they move around the words — nope, her brain is still in working order. “Whatever fried food they’re serving now.”

With a glance to her watch, she gets up, bringing both notepads to her chest, and indulges Clarke in this nonsense for a moment longer. “Now. You want to start drinking now? It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.”

“And we had one hell of a morning. You’re so exhausted you won’t even make sense in those emails.” Whatever venom Lexa has in her eyes when she shoots Clarke a glare doesn’t affect her financial specialist. All it does it earn her an eye roll. “Oh, calm down. I’m just as tired and I don’t want to work today anymore.”

“Then go home, have your drinks. I have work to do, Clarke,” Lexa says as she turns on her heels to leave the room, to get to her office, and start catching up on her to-do list.

(The mere thought of putting another six hours of work makes Lexa’s spine tense up, but it’s a feeling she’s used to enough by now to know she’ll survive to tell the tale.)

Clarke blocks her way before Lexa can take another step forward.

She’s so far into Lexa’s personal space that the top of her notepad brushes against the fabric of her blouse.

“Fuck, so do I. But this week needs to end.” The bone tiredness Lexa feels is reflected in those words and she understands the feeling — this week dragged on until they were all on their wits’ end. “And I don’t want to celebrate it alone.”

Trying and mostly failing to hide a scoff, Lexa presses the pads closer to her chest. “What exactly are we celebrating?”

“Making through it alive. And not facing any criminal charges for murdering a shareholder in that meeting. I came pretty fucking close.”

A smile tugs at her lips, the movement seemingly so foreign after the morning they had that her facial muscles fight it. Lexa schools her features and relents. “Fine. I’ll let Gaia and Anya know they can reach me on my phone, then we can go.”

Lexa can draft that email tomorrow morning.

She can let her team have the weekend to rest without any added worry about the countless items she’ll add to their to-do lists for the week — or, well, the next several months. She can go out with a coworker for a drink and have a quiet night in, as if she’s just working a regular corporate nine-to-five and actually has friends in the company. She can even let Clarke be that friend, if only for a night.

“Where are we going, exactly?”

Clarke is halfway out the door when she turns around, worrying her bottom lip in between her teeth. “I was thinking Lincoln and Octavia’s. Is that okay?”

Lexa can only nod.

#it's not much but it's honest work #i haven't written anything for the past month and i feel like i forgot how to #f: oifan #anon #nina's mail #💌

[reluctant-woodwind]

Apologies in advance, this is going to be a long one.

I have many feelings about the 100, Clarke and Lexa specifically, so let’s look at the Mount Weather kerfuffle. Lexa, seemingly, pulls a 360 and after making many plans and contingencies up and abandons Clarke at Mount Weather. This is all common knowledge, but I went down a little rabbit hole about what pushed Lexa to make this decision.

Let’s start pre-kiss. Throughout “Bodyguard of Lies” Lexa is consistently opening herself up and being vulnerable around Clarke. At the start of the episode Lexa is literally lying down with her eyes closed while Clarke is in the tent. We also get the iconic line “Not everyone. Not you.”. At this time it is also established that Clarke is a formidable fighter and leader, and Lexa notices this. When Clarke storms into the tent with the guard sent to kill Octavia (do we know this mans name?), she displays physical strength and also significant logic skills. The choice she gives to Lexa of “If you hurt Octavia, I’ll tell everyone we knew about the missile.” shows Clarke’s logical decision making and ability to take risks. All of this, along with the fact that Clarke and her people were able to breach the Mountain, shows Lexa that Clarke is comparable in power to the Mountain Men.

Then the kiss happens. This is peak Lexa makes herself vulnerable to Clarke. She displays all her emotions, which as a reminder, Lexa believes to be the pinnacle of weakness. When Clarke pulls back and admits that she’s not ready for a relationship, Lexa recoils into herself. She becomes scared. She is worried that Clarke will use her vulnerability against her, or her people. She is also scared of getting her heart broken again, so she reverts to what she’d been taught for her entire life. Cruelty.

This cruelty comes in the form of betrayal. She makes the deal with Mount Weather for two reasons. One, it was a sure way to keep HER people safe. Two, it was a way for Lexa to convince Clarke that Lexa doesn’t care as much as she led Clarke to believe. (This is a lie, Lexa is whipped as fuck).

So my takeaway from all this is “I made this decision with my head and not my heart.” is fucking bullshit. That decision was AT LEAST 50% emotional, because Lexa was scared and trying to protect herself. There was just an added benefit of protecting her people too.

#clexa #wlw ship #the 100 #clarke griffin #if you ask me about clexa i will never shut up #i have so many clexa feelings #woo this was a long one #sorry #lexa kom trikru #commander lexa #heda lexa #clarke and lexa #octavia kom skaikru #octavia blake

[bababaka]

Part 4 - Clexa x reader "headcannons"

No idea what i'm doing. Enjoy. Cause its the last one…

You can see how i was getting done with this as the end nears.

Part 3

- You were released. Yay. The problem was, being releasead by Heda? With no consequences? Oh. Opositors didn't take too kindly to that.

- You took that to your advantage. You had to lie and say that Heda should've killed you or at least torture you. She was too soft! 

- It worked. 

- not on all people, of course. After all, you were a traitor to both Heda and the Ice Nation.

- there were those who tried to kill you. To rally the crowd to execute you. 

- Most met their end in the middle of the night. Misteriously. Choked on their own blood. 

- You never left a trace. This wasn't any different. 

-  Those who were still alive and oposed to you had to be swayed by you. 

- They didn't trust you. But as you plead you could be useful, they relent. 

- And that's when your abilities come to light. 

- Sweet talking people to get information. Going unoticed as you eavesdrop om conversations. Sneaking into places you really weren't allowed to. 

- It was dangerous. Yes. But you didn't care. Your life held no value. You are just a tool to be used and discarded.

- First, to the glory of Ice Nation. Now, it was to serve your Heda. To help Lexa. To help Clarke.

-Ok. At first. You are avoing the both of them. Only talking when necessary to give reports. You try to give them to Titus or maybe Indra, though you have real chances of getting out of that harmed with the latter.

- Most people are distrusting and waring of you. It makes sense. You are a traitor. 

So. You are happy to avoid as much people as you can. 

- Neither Clarke nor Lexa lets you.

Ot3 dynamic

- Their trope is gay mess :)

- At first, it was Clarke. 

- You were outside. Layed at the ground. Staring at the stars. 

- Clarke obstruct your view, only to ask

"Youre stargazing? Do you mind if i join you?"

- You only nod. 

- She lays by your side. 

- For some minutes. You only look at the sky. Blue almost black with little points of light. Like snowflakes when they fall and the sun hits them just the right way. Demesmerizing. Sometimes you forget that winter, the cold, can be just as majestic as it is cruel and unrelenting.

- Clarke breaks your line of thought. 

- "The stars aren't nearly as pretty from the space as they are from here."

- "Really? You came from the sky, Wanheda. You are saying the sky is not beautiful?"

- "It can be." she turns her head at you. but "it doesn't compare to Earth."

- She holds her stare. This time not on the sky, but on you. And you hold your breath. Scared to break the moment. To end this. To come out of this "bubble"/dream. To think of what she means. What her shining gaze means.

- At the end, is Clarke who turns away.

- "Earth may have its flaws but it still is pretty."

- You remain silent. Still unbalanced. Still wondering and confused. 

- Clarke leaves not much longer after that. 

- And as she gives a last look, a thought comes to you unbidden.

- Her eyes are blue. Like the sky.

- It doesn't take long for Lexa to come to you. 

- It is at the end of the day. She comes to your room. Not in her Heda clothes. Just in her normal outfit. Looking achingly like the young girl she was. So soft. With so much burdens to carry. The way her shoulders were low. Her hair loose. Her eyes demure. Open. Tired.

- She wasn't there to fight. Wasn't there to manipulate you, yell at you. Punish you. 

For more that you deserved. 

- You deserved it. Her hatred, anger, pain, the guilt. And yet, there she was. In front of you. So damn vulnerable. Nothing like the unbreakable and fierce warrior. 

- Your heart squeezed in your chest. 

- You might have done anything and everything if she asked you. 

- What she does asks you, though, takes a lot out of you to comply. 

- "Why?" is what finally comes out of her mouth. 

- "Why what?"

- "i- i don't know..."

- "Why?"

- Why you tried to kill me? Why you didn't? Why you betrayed me? Why you ran? Why you still hurt me?

- "You always knew about Costia. You knew they had her. You were there."

- "...yes..."

- "Did she die well?"

- "Yes." your first instinct is to confort. To lie. 

- You weren't there when she died. But you knew it wasn't a painless or honorable death. 

- You just couldn't bring yourself to say that to Lexa. Not when she looked so damn vulnerable. Breakable.

- "Hm...."

- "I'm sorry, Lexa."

- "so am i." Again, her gaze could tear you apart. Shred your heart to pieces. More than it already was. Lexa had that power over you.

- "why didn't you kill me? You had the chance. I hesitated."

- and so did I. But that's not what she asked. She asked why. 

Why didn't you kill her? 

- "I couldn't bear the possibility of killing you. The mere thought made me sick. I thought i could get past that... That flaw. Weakness. But the time came and... I couldn't."

- There were few moments in which you are as truthful as this. You look in Lexa's eyes. Green as the forest. 

- You always loved the nature. The sky. The florest. 

-" i thought despite my inner feelings, i could push through it. I could... Do it.. 

I've come to care for you as i gotten to know you."

- You felt tears gathering behind your eyes. 

- "And i'm so sorry that i betrayed you. Your trust. I never meant to. You deserve so much more. You are so much more."

- you kneel before her. Droplets of tears streaming down your face. 

- "Lexa, you are an amazing Heda. And an incredible woman. You endured so much pain. You lost so much. And yet you stay strong, you care about your people."

- "I am sorry, Lexa. If i could go back, i would. You deserved so much more, and i just didn't give you that. I am so so sorry" 

- Lexa joins you in the ground. And hugs you.

- You felt a weight off your shoulders as you cry and your shirt gets wet with Lexa's tears.

- You get hurt or something akin to that. And Lexa gets worried alongside Clarke. 

While Clarke fawns ovr you and take care of you (<3), Lexa only watches. 

- Clarke asks you what happened.

- You very begrudginly tell briefly what happened. 

- Lexa is quick to chastise you and say you shouldn't take such risks. 

- You counter saying you got valueable information. It was worth the risk.

- She says looking you in the eye. Piercing green eyes. And stony face. But with something vulnerable in her. Soft.

"Not over your life."

- As the time progresses you see yourself spending more and more time with Wanheda and Heda.

- Sometimes separate and sometimes the three of you together. 

- Your favorite moments were when Adrien tagged along with the three of you. 

- You weren't someone that felt happy that much. 

- Life to you was bland. Meek. Grey. Blue.

- Now, though, you felt your chest light and filled with this fire. Warm and confortable. Chasing the cold away.

- One day, you were with Clarke. And for some reason, the air felt stuffed. Like a snowstorm just waiting to happen. 

- The stares lingered, and the touches were more intimate.  

- It didn't take long to Clarke to make the first move.

- You already had sex before. It wasn't that daunting of a task. 

- At the begining, you get stunned. You thought she was with Lexa.

-You seen the stares, the longing. The love. 

- you resist at the begining. Thinking of how Lexa would react. Her heart. Her trust. Broken.

- "what about Lexa?" You ask amidst moans. 

- "What about her?"

- "Won't this upset her? Aren't you together?" You were trying your very best. But Clarke had nimble fingers and a skilled mouth. You don't think you'd resist much more. 

- "Don't worry about her. She's fine."

- You don't resist anymore. You don't think you ever could with the blonde. 

- You love the squeal that leaves Clarke as you let go and throws her in the bed. 

- In the next few days, you are very wary. And watch with hawk eyes every little interaction between Clarke and Lexa. 

- You can't take it. You couldn't betray Lexa. Not again. Not like this. You needed to talk to Clarke. 

- "No. clarke. I can't."

- "I love you."

- "W-what?"

- "I love you."

- Dumbstruck. Of all the things, you never expected this. Love. 

- An inner, minor, part of you thought: Weakness.

- You were quick to extinguish that thought.

- Mostly, you were just happy. Relivied. 

- She loved you. She loves you. 

- You kiss.

- then. You stop.

- "What about Lexa?" 

- Clarke smiles, affectionate. "She knows. She's ok."

- You don't try to refute, and allow yourself to enjoy the moment of happiness.

- Doesn't take much longer for Lexa to come to you. 

- You are tense. Afraid. Fearful that you were part of something that hurt your Heda. 

-"Clarke told me you are together. Congratulations."

-you gaze at her face. Waiting to see sadness. Anger. Maybe even disgust. But no. She was normal.

-Well, indeed, when Clarke said she was fine. She was. 

-She talks about something. You know she does. You don't pay attention, though.

- You were appalled. Waiting for the disaster to happen. The guards to come. The blade to be unshelth. Her smile simmer down. Become less distracting. Her curves less attractive. Her hair was down. Her clothes were normal.

-She was a sight to behold.

- Lexa takes the initiative. Not because you didn't want to do it. But just because you wouldn't. Too afraid to do something wrong.

-you stop. Though you didn't want to. To ask. "No. Wait. What about Clarke?" 

-"She knows and agreed."

- For a moment. Fleeting. You wondered why do they always know? Why were you always the last to get that information? You weren't used to not knowing things. Secrets.

-You don't keep on that thought though. Lexa's lips were far more enticing.

-Later, with a clearer head and no pretty distractions, you wonder about your situation. 

- and as you come to the conclusion you were done being confused, angry and a bit frustrated, you call Lexa and Clarke to meet you. 

- you get everything in the open. Everyone confesses. It's cute. It's awesome. It's wholesome. Yay.

- You are officially together. Congrats. You bagged Heda and Wanheda. I would brag.

- The problem though is getting together with the two leaders? Not easy. 

- They are always stressed. Always overworked. Poor babies. 

- At some point, you learn some techniques to relax and put those two at ease. 

-They were leaders. They were the ones who'd make the shots. You were fine being in the background, just following their lead.

- Clarke has a better time dealing with her emotions. While you and Lexa tend to bottle it up.

- When the hundred get on earth, reader is 20, Lexa is 19 and Clarke is 18. (Yes, you are the oldest suck it up)

- Clarke would be your moral compass. While she understood that sacrifices and a more rough approach were needed, she tried her best to reign you two in. Most times she succeeded. Most.

- Ya'll are switches. I don't take criticism on this. It's true and that's it. Bye. 

- You hunt together. It tends to be romantic and fun.

- none of you were much of a jokester, but you find yourselves joking around each other.

-Adrien is your adopted child. Maybe Maddie comes along later. Now though it is only Adrien.

Your happiness doesn't last much. Because of course not. You were never that lucky. 

You hear from Nia and Rowan.

Those two come back.

Lexa kills Nia. Rowan becomes the king. You reunite. Cry. Bond. 

The rebels dismantle

You guys live happily.

End.

Did i edit? Tried rereading to fix errors? No. And i won't either.

If it sucks, i don't care. Bye.

I've done my part. Now y'all go write for Clexa x reader. 

#fanfic #clarke griffin #clarke x reader #clexa headcannons #clexa x reader #lexa kom trikru #the 100 #my fics

[turningsaintsintotheseax]

Dear streaming services and broadcast channels; sapphic representation is important too…

When I think back to my baby gay days, there are a lot of difficult memories, heartbreak, rejection, and lonely moments. However, some of my happier moments, those glimmers of feeling safe and normal in a world that so often made me feel the opposite, came from media representation. Back in 2010 there wasn’t anywhere near the level of sapphic media representation that there is now, but there was enough.

I was more blessed than those born just a few years before me. I have a friend who is just five years older than me, and for her there was one sapphic media representation she could relate to- just one.

Coronation Street’s Sophie and Sian and Skins’ Naomi and Emily were my saving Grace. It might seem extreme, but I would sometimes count the hours down to be home from school to watch either of these. I’d spent six hours wanting to crawl inside a hole and feeling that I was carrying a secret that everyone secretly knew and hated me for. Yet I could go home and immerse myself into someone’s else’s relationship that made mine feel so much more normal. I don’t doubt that media representation saved my life in more ways than one, and for that I have so much to thank broadcasters for. However there is a hidden dark side to sapphic representation on TV.

While no one can deny that sapphic and wlw media representation has become much more common over time. The bizzare trends that seem to curse sapphic characters are ongoing.

Let’s start with the original trend, referred to as #buryyourgays and essentially outlining the frequency at which lesbian and bisexual characters were killed off in popular tv shows. As of February 2023, a grand total of 225 (and counting) wlw TV show characters had been killed off. I’m not going to list them all, because no one has time to read that, but I will outline the ones that hit hard (for me).

Tara - Buffy The Vampire Slayer (2002)

Tosh - Torchwood (2008)

Sarah Barnes - Hollyoaks (2009)

Cat - Lip Service (2012)

Maya - Pretty Little Liars (2012)

Naomi - Skins (2013)

Emily - Teen Wolf (2013)

Catriona - Doctors (2014)

Maddie Heath - Coronation Street (2015)

Lexa - The 100 (2016)

Nora and Mary Louise - The Vampire Diaries (2016)

Poussey - Orange is the New Black (2016)

Rana Habeeb- Coronation Street (2019)

Tina Carter - Eastenders (2020)

I mean, the list goes on…

And the impact is huge. When you are a lost and lonely youth, these characters do become your saving grace and sense of normality. As I previously mentioned, Skins had the biggest impact on my life and were actually praised by the sapphic community for appearing to break the #buryyourgays trend. So what did they do? Brought Naomi back in a one off spin off series. To kill her off. Tragically. Come on now!

British soaps. I’m a big fan. It’s a guilty pleasure! The soaps have a huge platform to spread awareness and inclusivity, and let’s be fair, they often do. However the trend remains prominent. Eastenders killed off it’s longest running lesbian character in the last couple of years. Coronation Street killed off one half of two of the three lesbian couples to be featured and Hollyoaks killed off Sarah Barnes way back in the day and are currently stabbing us all in the heart with Juliet’s upcoming death.

The British soaps are getting somewhere with their representation of male gay characters, which is good. I mean, it would be nice for it to be all communities but perhaps this means it’s coming. In fact, over its 38 years worth of episodes, Eastenders has cast an impressive 20 male gay and bisexual main characters. Compared to just 10 female lesbian and bisexual characters.

Thankfully, we have seen the #buryyourgays trend slowly come to a steady halt in the last couple of years. But there has to be a replacement hashtag right? Correct! Introducing #cancelyourgays….

In some ways this new trend is worse! I mean, it certainly boils my blood more. It has a whole new feeling of injustice about it and there is an even clearer line between the treatment of male gay shows compared to sapphic shows. Obviously straight shows are still miles ahead, I don’t expect to catch them up, but a little bit of mileage would be nice!

So now that we are in the times of streaming media, the sector saw a whole new opportunity to start cancelling shows and breaking hearts. I was a loyal Netflix fan but to say I am cross with them now, is an understatement.

Let’s start with Netflix, as I do feel they are the worst. I’m not going to list every sapphic show they have ever cancelled, it would simply take me too long. But let’s talk about the main tradegies

First kill - oh my heart. What was not to love about this show? It’s probably the hardest hit for me. Vampires, gouls, monster killers, themes of Romeo and Juliet throughout, Sarah Catherine Hook, and a lesbian couple as the leads where ‘coming out’ is not the storyline and their sexuality just happily exists in the background. It had everything in place for a huge following right? Yes! But Netflix has treated us to cancelling the show just two months after series one premiered! Netflix said it was due to a low completion rate. I haven’t seen the figures so I can’t say this isn’t accurate, but considering First Kill stormed into the top 10 within hours of it’s premiere and reached number 3 worldwide, only falling behind the huge peaky blinders and stranger things, you’d think that the figures couldn’t have been the problem. Considering the teenage hit Heart-stopper was renewed for a further two seasons despite having half the views of First Kill! Good job Heart-stopper chose to have Charlie and Nick as it’s lead and not Tara and Darcy, or it could have been a different story. Let’s not forget that First Kill’s show runner has also spoken about the lack of advertising Netflix gave to First Kill, almost like they didn’t want it to blow up.

Warrior nun - another hugely popular show. This one managed to get renewed for a season two but was cancelled shortly after the second season premiered. Netflix said it was due to viewing figures and production costs, but then again it always is…

The society - was cancelled after the first season, this time due to Covid. I mean, there is legitimacy to this as the second season was due to start filming in late 2020 but if you look deeper, Netflix absolutely did not cancel all of their series due in 2020. In fact, what was the other show to take the hit at the same time as The Society? It was I’m Not Okay With This, which is next on the list.

I’m not okay with this - what a great premise for a show! A mix of coming to terms with sexuality and the development of super powers! This show was a HUGE hit and fans thought the renewal for a season two was as secure as it could possibly be. But no. Due to ‘Covid’ Netflix cancelled it after season one. Definitely couldn’t blame views for this one’s cancellation. I Am Not Okay With This ranks at the 89.6th percentile in the Drama genre. This means I Am Not Okay With This has higher demand than 89.6% of all Drama titles in the United States. It almost doesn’t make sense? Hmm.

A Typical - I personally thought this one was absolutely safe. The sapphic storyline was by no means the main plot of the show. It focused on the life of an autistic teenager dealing with school, friends and girlfriends. But his sister had her own sapphic storyline going on in the background and the wlw community were utterly invested! In fairness to Netflix, this one got four seasons which is unheard of and is believed to have been cancelled after season four due to it coming to a natural end.

Teenage bounty hunters - cancelled after season one. Frustrating so many fans, mainly due to the fact that it ended on a huge cliffhanger! Covid was blamed here too but fans bit back with evidence that advertising was lacking it and the show got lost in the weight of all the other Netflix shows. I mean, the executive producer was Jenji Kohan who brought us Orange Is The New Black, so you’d have thought that Netflix would have been pumping it to everyone’s home screens!

Glow - 15 Emmy nominations and three wins weren’t enough to save season four of GlOW from cancellation. In fact, it was renewed for a fourth season and Netflix reversed the decision due to, you guessed it, Covid! Producers claimed that it was too tricky to film the close proximity scenes. Yet somehow they did manage to do this in every other covid time show that continued…

Gypsy - one of the quickest Netflix cancellations ever. The show had only just premiered when the plug was pulled for a season two. Most of the blame went to viewing figures. Fun fact- the dedicated fans were still battling and protesting for a season two well over a year after it’s cancellation.

Dare me - season one flew into the top 10 in 30 countries. Enough to secure a second season? Of course not. There were rumours that other streaming services were interested in picking it up for a season two, but this never happened.

Netflix are serial offenders, there is no doubting this. But it’s not just them. I can’t go as in depth with these, as I don’t want to write a whole essay, so i’m going to pick the one stand out example of each. Let’s move on to Amazon Prime and another of my heartbreaks…

The Wilds - I loved everything about this show. The diversity, the powerful female leads, the complete mix of Lost and Pretty Little Liars, there was so much to love! Gender was actually the main theme of the show but the wlw storyline between Toni and Shelby was a huge fan favourite. The Wilds returned for a season two and ended on another big cliffhanger, this and the fact that the fan base was HUGE caused fans to feel secure about a season three. But shortly after season two ended, Amazon cancelled the show. They blamed a lack of views in season two however, The Wilds ranks at the 92.7th percentile in the Drama genre. This means The Wilds has higher demand than 92.7% of all Drama titles in the United States. The reaction on the internet was crazy. After all this time, the fans continue to petition and argue for a season three.

HBO next..

Gentleman Jack - this one was a huge shocker. The period drama got two seasons and was beloved to it’s fans, gaining a hugely impressive 92% critics score and 93% audience score on Rotten Tomatoes. I believe that neither HBO or BBC confirmed the reason for the cancellation but it is rumoured that it had to do with the length of time between the two seasons due to the pandemic, which could have led to a loss of viewers. Somehow, I doubt this.

Let’s not forget others worth mentioning..

Batwoman

Legacies

Legends of tomorrow

Charmed

A league of their own

Generation

Willow

and many many more…

Are the streaming services even aware of this pattern? Who knows. But the theme is there, in black and white. And as a sapphic female who has thankfully come out the other side of the years of self hatred, blame, isolation, and rejection, I am pleading with the streaming services to take note of this message

Dear streaming services and broadcast channels; sapphic representation is important too. Not just important but refreshing, a saving grace, a brief moment of normality, a resource, a source of education, and most important could literally save someone’s life.



#girls love girls #sapphic #wlw community #wlw positivity #wlw ship #gay representation #lgbt representation #queer representation #lgbt pride #wlw pride #queer media #media analysis #lgbt media #bury your gays #cancel your gays #netflix #prime video #gay bbc #eastenders #sophie and sian #naomi and emily #skins uk #first kill #calliope #julliette fairmont #julliette x calliope #im not okay with this #gentleman jack #atypical #casey and izzie

[lexa-griffins]

Would they make out over Finn's dead body and maybe even more 👀

Not over his body since its down in a ditch but the moment Finn hits the ground (and perhaps before he is fully dead because they can't really see his body from where they stand), Lexa kind of laughs with excitment and throws herself in Clarke's arms, who is staring at the cliff in disbelief that they actually did it. But once Lexa's arms are around her shoulders and her lips on her Clarke is consumed by her fully, pulling her closer and kissing her hard and passionately.

Clarke's hand does try to unbutton Lexa's slacks but Lexa stops her. They aren't about to leave any dna here. And although they have a bit of a hike before getting to Lexa's car, once they are back at Lexa's apartment, Clarke is free to do whatever she wants to her. So, the murder is almost forgotten about as Clarke buzzes with the excitment of fucking Lexa. How little does Finn life and death seems when its compared to worshipping Lexa.

#letter opened #clarke said: how sad we killed my ex bf maybe my gfs pussy will make me forget about it dhdjdj #clexa da au

[wanhedas-dagger]

Thinking about how during that one Chiefs game, they showed Travis Kelce’s stats when Taylor is at the game and when she’s not. And thinking about how that would be a thing for the pop star x pro athlete au. Thinking about how Clarke’s stats are nearly double what they are when Lexa is there compared to when she’s not. Thinking about Lexa laughing about the stats on the screen in the stadium but then being all oh??

#au pop star x pro athlete #personal

[lottieurl]

tagged by @sapphicscience to post 5 otps from 5 fandoms (thank you 💜) i chose to not list yellowjackets cause honestly it's hard for me to choose one pairing. it's the rare occasion when i'm multishipping happily and won't torture myself with trying to rank those cause it depends on the week

person of interest - root and shaw THEE ship of all time truly nothing will ever compare

killing eve - eve and villanelle i mean DUH but i ignore the entirety of s4

elementary - watson and moriarty LISTEN the sheer impact this had on me cannot be overestimated. the dynamic is SO good i wish they fucked about it in canon

the 100 - clarke and lexa cause like. i had a clexa renaissance last year and it actually is still so good. the ao3 less so but it does have my fave fic of all time and ngl that might be why they're listed. in the year of our lord 2023

dare me - addy and beth WHO DOESN’T LOVE GAY TOXIC GIRL BEST FRIENDS. ive seen the show six times and it makes me insane every single time. join me in mental illness

tagging @villanevehaus @whenfatecollides @ordinaryhorror @sameensass @merevide @tinygrumpshaw and anyone else who wants to do this

#the thing with rhaenicent is. i have Never found a fic i enjoyed or even wanted to actually read #hence it didnt end up making the list #like trust me i am insane abt the dynamic but not quite in the same way #like tbh i havent read dare me fanfiction either bc too much of what i saw was very fix it fic vibe and i want them worse #but since the entire show is p much only abt their relationship + how colette impacts it and stuff #it makes me Way More Sick while watching than hotd #anyways NO PRESSURE obviously if you dont wanna do this fhhdjdj

[coneheda]

99 and 100 lexa teaching clarke to swim :))

99. i don’t know what to do” “then let me teach you”

100. “i forgot my towel”

Clarke prides herself in her ability to learn things quickly. Whether it was her school studies, chess, or memorizing the steps of medical procedures, her brain processed and stored the information effortlessly. So the fact that it’s been two weeks and she’s still practically drowning herself every time she goes in the water with little to no improvement is beyond frustrating. Especially when everybody else seemed to grasp the task easily.

When the commander asks for a progress report, Clarke barely contains her irritated eye roll when the warrior assigned to teach them for the day points to her as he shakes his head. It’s not her fault he’s an incompetent instructor. 

The commander walks over to her, arms clasped behind her back. 

“Clarke.” The commander nods in greeting.

“Commander.” Clarke says, biting back sass. 

“Being able to swim is an important survival skill.” The commander says.

And Clarke is intimately aware of that fact, but the frustrations of the day have worn her thin so instead of agreeing she goes a more petulant route,

“I don’t see why, nothing I do involves any deep bodies of water. I could be doing more important things with my time.”

“Says the girl who jumped off a cliff into a pool of water.” 

“Yeah, well I don’t see that happening again.” Clarke says, the memory causing a shiver to wrack through her.

“As I’m sure you did not foresee it happening the first time.“ The commander points out in a very ‘I told you so’ way. 

Clarke sighs “It’s not working, I try everyday and I’m still not any better. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Then let me teach you” The commander says and Clarke does a double take, thinking she must have heard wrong.

“You?”

“Yes. Meet me here after your morning rounds tomorrow, you will not have anyone to compare yourself to and we will begin.” The commander says and then turns around and leaves, a dumbstruck Clarke staring after her.

—

Clarke shows up the next day with a swarm of unexplainable butterflies in her stomach.

Lexa is already there or at least she assumes it’s her. There's a brunette doing laps a few meters from the shore. Clarke’s eyes are drawn to the rippling muscles and the tattoo that runs the length of her spine.

The fluttering worsens.

She hadn’t thought about the logistics. Sure she didn’t think Lexa would teach her in her full commander garb, but the thought of seeing her so stripped down never entered her mind. Now that image will never leave it.

As Lexa swims and then stands to walk toward her, Clarke averts her eyes to anywhere but the dripping body in front of her. It feels a lot hotter than it did when she left the clinic. 

“Are you ready to begin?”

“As I’ll ever be.” She says, although her voice sounds off, raspier. Maybe she’s coming down with something?

They stand there, Lexa staring at her, waiting for something but Clarke isn’t sure what.

“Are you swimming in your day clothes?”

Flustered, Clarke pulls her shirt over her head and kicks off her pants, setting them atop her shoes. When she looks up, Lexa’s back is toward her. She takes the initiative and walks into the water, instantly cooling her over heated flesh.

Lexa follows and stops her when they are waist deep. She kneels in the water and waves Clarke closer. 

“The most important thing you need to learn is how to float. I will support you to start and then gradually let go.” Lexa spreads her arms out in front of her and motions for Clarke to lay back in the water. 

Clarke takes a deep breath, bracing herself for what’s surely going to be another failed attempt and then positions her back over Lexas arms, kicking her legs up.

“Tilt your head back.” Lexa instructs. Clarke does as she’s told. She sees Lexa’s lips move but can’t make out what was said. Lifting her head out of the water her butt immediately sinks toward the lake bed. Clarke squeezes her eyes shut as she waits for the rest of her body to be submerged, but Lexa keeps her head above water. 

“You cannot float with your ears out of the water.” Lexa says.

“Well I can’t hear you with my ears in the water!” Clarke huffs.

“All I said was well done. I will be by your side the whole time, you have nothing to worry about. This time I want you to spread your arms and legs like you are a star or an X.”

“Okay” Clarke nods and leans back. 

They continue like that for another half hour, Clarke getting more and more confident with the concept and practice of floating. To the point where Lexa was more hands off, letting them hover close by incase Clarke needed her. 

“You did well, Clarke. We will do another day of floating before adding in kicks.” Lexa says and Clarke grins, a surge of confidence coming over her from the praise and complete lack of choked on water.

“Thank you for helping me. I’m sure there are other pressing matters that I’m taking you away from.” Clarke says as they walk out of the water.

“Now that we are in a time of peace I find myself having more free time, I could not think of a better way to spend it.” Lexa says bending over to grab her towel and wrings her hair in it.

Clarke blushes and turns to her own pile. It’s only then that she realizes in her haste to get here she had forgotten something. The breeze catching the water droplets that cover her body send a shiver through her, the goosebumps reinforcing her error.

It’s a long walk to make in wet clothes but she doesn’t see another option.

“Is everything alright, Clarke?”

“I, um, forgot my towel,” Clarke says, trying to squeegee the water off her arms and stomach with her hands.

“Oh,” Lexa says, swallowing hard. Clarke looks up to see Lexa’s eyes fixated below her face. While grounder bindings may be more comfortable than what they had on the ark, the thinner material does little to hide the body's natural response to the cold. Clarke stops herself from crossing her arms. Rarely in her time on earth has she seen the mighty Heda distracted and she can’t deny it feels good to be on the other end of that desire.

“Lexa.” She says softly, Lexa’s head snaps up.

Lexa clears her throat. “I’m sure I have something you can use in my saddle bag.” she says and hurries off into the woods. She’s back a moment later with what looks like a cloak. “This should work” Lexa holds it out. Clarke reaches for it, their fingers brushing during the exchange.

“Thank you.” Clarke dries herself off as Lexa dresses. She sets the cloak on the ground and runs her fingers through her hair to work out the tangles.

“Would you like me to braid your hair back?” Lexa asks. Clarke tries not to show her surprise at the offer, at a loss for words she nods in response. 

Clarke sits on a nearby rock and closes her eyes as Lexa works her magic. She can’t remember a time she’s been this at peace and she doesn’t want the moment to end. 

All too soon Lexa taps her shoulder. She spins around and stands up, placing herself a lot closer to Lexa than she realized. Her eyes bounce between Lexa’s own and her lips, the commanders doing the same. 

Clarke couldn’t say who moved first. One second she’s imagining what it would be like to kiss Lexa and the next she doesn’t have to anymore. Plump lips move softly against hers. Her hand comes up to rest on a prominent jaw line, the other wraps around a svelte waist pulling Lexa closer and deepening the kiss.

If Lexa teaching her to swim ends like this every time, Clarke doesn’t have much incentive to learn.

#clexa #clexa fic #asks #prompts 2 months later #canon au #I had fun with this one #but I also used to teach swim lessons lol

[askweisswolf]

WIP... Wednesday...?

I was tagged by @sidestepping and @the-rebel-archivist and I actually just finished this last night, so why not, I'll throw the whole thing up and hurt everyone with it all at once. Just some general Durge thoughts on my boy Oriel, no spoilers.

I think the usual folks have been tagged but I'll still tag @eskcl, @ohmypawsandwhiskers, @griever-receiver, @jellydishes, @the-darkness-does-not-bargain, and @lexa-griffins if any of you need a nudge with writing or art, and of course anyone who sees this post is free to respond!

“Why did you do it?”

You look into the face of a man you don’t remember and try to think of a reply.

You’re dreaming; you realize that immediately, because only in dreams do you ever feel like this. Disconnected, on the outside, a stranger watching in the shadows. Most nights you either don’t dream at all or your dreams are violent, jumbled things that make no sense; darkness, running, screams. So many screams. Some nights you wake up in a panic, thinking you’ve blacked out again and the screams are your companions.

This dream is different, though. This dream is sunny, warm, hazy around the edges. You’re smaller in this dream, compared to the others. It’s a strange sensation to be so small, when you know you should be bigger. Your knuckles are bloody and bruised, but it’s your blood. Mostly your blood.

“Oriel.” The man’s voice is soft, but you can’t meet his gaze. You stare down at your hands, at the dried blood. You don’t feel a thrill now, looking at the result of your handiwork; all that curls in your stomach is shame. It’s a foreign feeling.

You remember now, you think. You got into a fight. You should have stopped–you were winning. Winning is easy, when you’re as big as you are. You’re smaller than you one day will be, but you’re still bigger than you should be, and it just feels so good when you get into a fight. The scent of blood, the sound of broken bones, the screams–

“It was my fault.” Another voice, over the man’s shoulder. Your eyes jerk up, but you can’t make out the features of the boy speaking; he’s close, but his features are blurred, faded in a way you can’t place. “Those boys were pushing me, I should have just tried to get away–”

“I hit them,” you say abruptly. You don’t know why, but this boy taking the blame for your actions bothers you. “They were being mean, so I hit them.”

The man breathes in, quietly; you tentatively meet his gaze. “And you didn’t stop,” he says.

His features are just as fuzzy as the other boy’s, but his eyes are clear. Sharp, but warm. “I didn’t stop,” you confess, and this time you hold his gaze.

The man sighs at that, and you brace yourself for his response. He shifts, tugs a bowl of water closer, and gently dips a piece of cloth in it; when he brings it to your bloodied knuckles you hiss, but stay still.

He doesn’t say anything, as he cleans your wounds. Somehow that feels worse than if he yelled at you.

“I’m sorry.” It comes out in a rush. “I should have stopped. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

It’s a lie, of course. You know why you didn’t. It felt too good, too right, and this is what always happens. You try so hard to be gentle, you try to seem normal, but you never quite can. There’s something inside you that likes the violence a little too much, or maybe it’s just you. You don’t know.

You don’t know why you’re still trying.

“You should have stopped,” the man agrees, and he finishes washing the blood off your hands. “I won’t lie, I’m not happy you did this. I would have preferred you used your words.”

You scowl. “He was,” you say, nodding to the other boy. “They weren’t listening.”

“Someone not listening doesn’t give you cause to hit them.” His words are gentle but firm, as he sets the wet cloth aside. “But… you did what you did for a good reason, even if it wasn’t quite the right thing.”

You frown, now. You don’t understand, and it must show on your face because the man chuckles, shifting to brush curly strands of hair out of your eyes. “You’re not mad?”

“I would have been mad if you had started a fight just because you could. I’m not happy that you kept beating them when you should have stopped.” He’s holding your hands in his, now. You’ll be bigger than him one day, but right now your hands look so small in his. “But you fought for a reason. I can’t say I’m not proud of that.”

“I don’t understand.”

The man studies your hands for a moment before he nods, meeting your gaze again. “I’ll explain it to you tomorrow,” he says. “I think it’s time we started teaching you to control your strength.”

You don’t know if that will help. You want it to help so badly it aches.

“Okay,” you whisper, and when he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead you wake up.

#baldur's gate 3 #the dark urge #OC: Oriel #my writing