Summary: Loki is allowed to freely roam the compound but he can’t be unsupervised, so you’re assigned to stay behind and babysit him while everyone else goes on a mission. He decides to do something nice for you as a peace treaty, but it blows up in his face - literally.
Warnings: language, fluff, food fights
Word Count: 4973
A/N: I’ve been wanting to write Loki for a long time, but he’s such a deeply complex character that I didn’t know what ‘part’ of him I wanted to go with first, or if I could ever do him the justice he deserves. I’m a sucker for secretly soft, gentle, loving, innocent, caring, wants-to-make-you-proud Loki, so I ended up going with that, but I may try to write other sides of him in the future. I really hope you all enjoy it! <3
was obvious, the way his stare would linger on the back of her head as she
walked by him in the halls. The way his sentences would simply cut off the
moment she stepped into view, and he would let his words hang in silence until
she walked away.
lets have a headcanon where everyone is wearing BM's sweet coat and him wondering where the hell did all his coats go when he checks his closet.
Raven went through his morning routine like every other day, until he went to his closet to get dressed. He reached into it absentmindedly for his usual clothes first, he always wore the same thing every day. However, when he went to get his coat, his hand only touched empty air. When he turned to get a closer look, all his usual coats were gone.
Did I leave them in the laundry again? He thought, and walked towards the dryers. They were empty, along with the washing machines. Now Raven was really confused. Could it be thieves?
He turned when he heard Aisha’s voice in the distance. She was just talking casually with Ara, wandering down the hallway. However, what caught his attention the most was their clothes– they both had Raven’s coat. The two girls quieted down and turned his attention to him with he approached.
“You two. Why do you have my coats?”
They looked at each other, puzzled expressions on their faces. Then Aisha spoke up; “Didn’t you say we could borrow them?”
“No?” Raven replied, sounding unsure. They were already walking down the hall again, and Raven followed. Emerging outside, Raven immediately felt uncomfortable at a bitter wind hitting his bare arm. Then he looked up to see the entire Elgang wearing his coat. “What the hell?!”
They were all going about a normal day, the only difference was the new attire. He also noticed how the harsh cold didn’t bother them at all. He saw Ain waving him over to get his attention.
“Hey, Mr. Half Nasod! The weather was going to be really bad today, so I told everyone to get your spare coats. You had plenty of them, right?”
Raven was shivering at this point. Unfortunately, he only had twelve coats made.
In this grand garden
lived a house
of ravens - black
coats upon black
faces - smooth
and faultless; but
those eyes betrayed
thought - intelligence;
so frightful the combination
of beak and mind
that I steered clear of them.
The Right Shade of Green-A Clexa AU Fanfiction (Chapter 1)
She should have never come to this stupid event.
Clarke had spent a good portion of the night loathing her own self-pity while she sipped on champagne she knew she would never be able to afford. That is, unless she could sell some of her work, unlike at this opening. The Museum of Modern Artists had turned down three of her pieces she submitted for review. Somehow, though, her best friend Raven had managed to get a sculpture of hers into the museum as a main exhibit.
She isn’t even an artist, Clarke thought as she looked around the room. Raven had graduated as a mechanical engineer, but chose to work in a garage instead. At night, though, she was the mysterious graffiti artist Rey who had been tagging buildings all over the city for months. At first she had done it as a dare-Octavia had told her to paint something obscene on a politician’s billboard. From there, she had moved on to buildings, walls, even once painting half of the busiest street in the city. Sure, she had been arrested a few times while caught in the act, but that didn’t sway her.
“You’re looking kinda blue there,” Clarke could hear Raven say as she made her way over to the blonde.
“Why am I here Raven?” she asked her, finishing off her glass of champagne.
“Because even though you’re still bitter, you’re a good friend who came here to support me tonight,” she replied. She had been hesitant at inviting Clarke as her guest to the opening, but Octavia was busy with another commitment she would not tell anyone about.
Clarke sighed. She was trying to be supportive, but everywhere she looked all she saw was mediocrity. She wondered if anyone who had work in this museum had ever studied art.
She stood up from her seat and gave the empty glass to a waiter passing by. “I’m going to take a walk around so I can clear my head.”
Raven nodded, then went back to socializing. Clarke wandered down the hallway, stopping a ways away from everyone else. She started examining the painting on the wall in front of her. It depicted a scene in a park, but Clarke didn’t focus on the obvious. She examined each little piece of the picture.
“The strokes are going in all directions,” she mumbled to herself. “Looks as if a three year old painted it.”
“And the tree is in two different shades of brown, as if they ran out of paint and use whatever other hue was available.”
Clarke turned towards the mystery voice to see a young woman walking up to her. Her brown hair shimmered under the soft lighting of the gallery. She was wearing a white button down with a dark green tie tied with an intricate knot. Her black vest was still buttoned and shirt tucked into her trousers, but she had rolled up her sleeves, allowing a small part of a tattoo to show on her right arm. Clarke could tell that she reeked of money.
“Such sloppy work. Don’t know how Anya allowed this into the museum,” she continued, stopping right next to Clarke. She put her arms behind her back, her hands falling at the small of her back. She her head towards Clarke slightly, tilting it. “What do you think?”
“I can see three different brush types used, which would be great if it was done for texture, but this is totally random. Like you appearing here next to me, away from the rest of the party.”
Out of the corner of her eye Clarke could see the girl’s jaw tense, then relax. “If you want to be alone I can leave.”
“No, please,” Clarke responded a bit too quickly. There was something about the presence of the girl that eased her. She quickly cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m glad there’s someone else her that understands art.”
“I wish I could paint, I’m just good at analyzing others’ work,” she responded, turning towards Clarke and extending her hand. “I’m Lexa, by the way.”
“Clarke,” she said as she shook her hand. God, her hands were smooth, Clarke thought. In the distance, she could hear someone clinking a glass.
“I should go, Anya’s probably speaking now,” Lexa said before turning on the heel of her perfectly shined shoes and striding back towards the party. Clarke couldn’t help but stare at the way her vest lined her back and the way her belt cinched her pants at just the right spot. Did she really feel something right now?
It took her a second to break out of her thoughts and rejoin the party. As she slipped into the crowd and found Raven again, the audience began applauding as another woman took to the stage. She was dressed similarly to Lexa, but still wore her jacket. She stepped up to the podium there and began speaking.
“I just wanted to quickly thank everyone that is here tonight, whether you are an artist or patron. A few special thanks though before we leave.”
This must be Anya, Clarke thought. Anya Woods was the curator and owner of the museum. She also curated the ancient histories museum downtown, but this was her first time owning one. She continued to thank patrons who had donated huge amounts to the museum just to get their names engraved on little plaques around the museum.
“And last, but certainly not least, I’d like to thank Trikru Industries and their CEO, Alexandria Woods, who is in attendance on behalf of the company tonight, for their generous gift of the land we currently sit on. Thanks again, everyone, for coming out tonight. Enjoy the food and drinks and feel free to wander around the gallery.”
As the audience applauded once again, Clarke stopped. She knew Lexa had sounded familiar, but that Lexa? As in, Lexa short for Alexandria Woods, the youngest CEO at Trikru in its history? The Lexa who had doubled the net worth of the company over her short tenure? Clarke couldn’t believe she didn’t recognize the face standing next to her. It was in the paper so many times that she should have known it right away.
Clarke found herself grabbing another glass of champagne before sitting again. How could she not have made a connection?
Mid sip, she felt someone walk behind her and sit in the chair next to her. Looking over, she could see the same brown hair as before, but the jacket missing from her suit had made its way back onto her.
“You didn’t tell me you were that Lexa,” Clarke said, placing her glass down on the counter.
“Do you know anyone else named Lexa?” she retorted with a smirk, grabbing her own glass and taking a small sip. Clarke found her eyes following Lexa’s throat, watching her swallow the liquid. Lexa noticed her gaze and smirked.
“Or am I the most attractive you’ve met so far?” she continued. Clarke noticed the hint of cockiness thrown in there. Two can play at this game, she thought.
“Hm? Did you say something? I busy thinking of the other Lexa’s I know,” she retorted, taking another sip of champagne. She could see Lexa’s eye twitch ever so slightly. She leaned in close to Clarke’s ear and whispered.
“I can tell you though, none will ever compare to me.”
Clarke had to grab the counter to stop herself from shivering. Those words managed to slice straight through her like none had.
Lexa leaned back and finished her glass, then stood up and buttoned her jacket. “Anya’s calling, guess it’s time for us to head out. It was nice to meet you, Clarke.”
And with that Lexa had left. Clarke watched her walk over to where Anya was waiting and the two of them headed outside, where a limo was waiting for them. Figures.
Clarke turned to find Raven coming back over to her.
“So, I see you started getting friendly with Lexa there. Thinking of sleeping with her already?” Raven grinned.
“Hey, I’m not like you. I actually get to know people before they end up in my bed.”
Clarke stood and followed Raven over to the coat room. She pulled on her coat and buttoned it up before sticking her hands in her pockets. She wasn’t expecting the crinkle of paper in there.
I didn’t have anything in this pocket when I came here, she thought, pulling out a small strip. On it was a phone number and a small note.
Call me. -L
Based off of the messages between @flyingfanaticfics and I after coming up with the idea of another fine stud for poor little Raven because she deserves someone. Most of the chapters will follow Clarke or Raven, maybe an occasional one with Octavia. We’ll see how it goes.
Monty is Clarke's gay best friend and is always giving her advice on how to make Bellamy like her back
Also response to: Octavia and co (Jasper, Monty, Raven, etc.) all try to get Octavia’s best friend (Clarke, obvs) and her brother to date.
This got super long, so it might be easier to read it here on AO3. I loved this so much, so thank bellblaks and anon for the amazing prompts. They were incredible and I enjoyed them so much!!
“You need to just go for it,” Monty urged. Clarke glared back in response, turning her eyes back to the screen and ignoring his gaze.
“I don’t even like him like that.”
“Are you sure?”
“The sexual tension!” Jasper screamed, running through the swinging kitchen door and flopping down onto the sofa on the other side of Clarke. She took the bowl of popcorn from his hands, purposefully ignoring his comment.
“Bellamy Blake is the bane of my existence, and that is that,” Clarke declared.
“Ok,” Jasper nodded.
“Totally believe you,” Monty added in.
“You guys suck,” Clarke groaned, throwing popcorn into her mouth and crouching further into the cushions.