Can you write modern au clexa at a Halloween party. So our costumes match and my friend keeps telling me to come take a photo but oh shit you're hot
To say Clarke was pissed would be an understatement. Fall was her favorite season for so many reasons—being able to layer with cute sweaters, pumpkin spiced lattes, apple picking, and Halloween. She was pissed because for the first time, Raven actually beat her at beer pong. It was a weekly ritual in their apartment—everyone came over on Saturday nights and they’d play, watch movies, and just hang out.
Knowing that they were scoring an invite to Octavia’s new boyfriend’s Halloween party, Raven decided to up the ante and forced Clarke into a bet: winner got to choose the loser’s costume. The blonde, however, felt confident. She already had her costume all planned out: Stevie Nicks; she had gone to every vintage store in the city to find every piece she needed to complete her look. Raven’s never beat her, not once in the five years they had known each other, so she had nothing to worry about.
“You know what,” Clarke groaned as she buttoned her top button, “I don’t think I’m going to come anymore.”
“A bet’s a bet, Griff,” Raven laughed, “And if memory serves me correct, your costume will be fully complete once you have the accent.”
“I’m not doing the accent, Rae,” the blonde whined, “I’m not coming.”
“You’re definitely coming, we told O we’d go for moral support. Plus, if Lincoln’s friends are as hot as he is, maybe we’ll both score tonight,” Raven shrugged, finishing the final touches for her own costume.
Clarke rolled her eyes, “Well of course you’re going to meet someone, you’re dressed like a slutty Lara Croft.”
“It’s not slutty, Griff,” the brunette began to defend herself, “This is literally what she wore.”
“I look like I’m about to wrestle an alligator,” Clarke huffed, “no one’s even going to know who I am.”
Raven turned to smirk at her friend, “That’s what the accent’s for, babe. And the name tag.”
“Name tag?” Clarke turned around to face Raven but was met with the girl slapping a sticker across the front of her khaki jumpsuit: Bindi Irwin.
“I didn’t realize Clarke could do an Australian accent,” Octavia observed, as the blonde went over to get herself another drink.
“Me neither,” Raven laughed, “Honestly, I thought it would be embarrassing for her, but homegirl’s making it work in her favor.”
“Honestly,” Lincoln chimed into the conversation, “if I hadn’t met her before this, I would have thought she was actually from there.”
“I wonder if Griff would take me up on another game of beer pong, I have another bet in mind,” Raven said, eyes on the game set up across the room.
Octavia smacked her on the back of her head, “She’s already pissed about this bet, you idiot. Don’t make her more mad than she already is, I don’t want her leaving here.”
Lincoln laughed at his girlfriend, “Yeah, and the party’s just getting started. Don’t want her storming out just yet.”
“I can’t believe I’m wearing this,” Lexa murmured as they approached Lincoln’s front door.
Her older sister rolled her eyes, “It’s a Halloween party, Lex. You needed a costume. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“You want me to thank you for giving me your pajamas?” Lexa cocked a brow.
“Don’t be a little shit,” Anya nudged her, “You don’t have to stay long, Linc just wanted us to meet his girl, then you can take the damn thing off and go out to whatever thing it was you had tonight.”
“It wasn’t a thing,” Lexa rolled her eyes, “the bartender from the other week is working again and she was hot. You ruined it by getting too drunk because I had to take you home. I’m just working on my second shot.”
“Okay,” Anya said, finally opening the door, “so stay for an hour and then you can go and try to get laid.”
“Holy shit, who is that?” Raven asked, mouth agape as she stared at a female Indiana Jones talking to Lincoln and Octavia.
Clarke looked where Raven’s eyes were already drawn to, “I dunno, mate, but she looks like Indiana Jones.”
“Clarke,” Raven smiled, turning her attention to her friend and putting her hand on her shoulder, “I am so glad you’re finally embracing the awesomeness of your costume.”
The blonde took a sip of her drink, “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
“Would it be rude if I interrupted their conversation right now?” Raven asked, looking back in the direction of the other group, “I feel like I can get a proper intro this way.”
“Shoot your shot, Lara,” Clarke laughed.
Raven grabbed her arm, “Okay, well you’re coming with me.”
They made their way to the trio and Lincoln introduced them all. As soon as Anya took notice of Clarke’s nametag, she couldn’t help but laugh, “This is amazing. This is fucking amazing.”
Clarke arched a brow, “Oh?”
“Have you seen my sister around here?” Anya asked, trying to calm herself down.
“Ahn,” Lincoln started, “they just met you. How would they know who Lexa is?”
“Figured they would have recognized her, considering she’s matching Bindi over here,” Anya gestured towards the blonde.
Raven directed her attention to Anya, “Please tell me she’s dressed as Steve Irwin.”
“Nope,” the girl shook her head, “but you’ll know her when you see her. I’m going to go get a drink, anyone need anything?”
Raven looked at Clarke and mouthed, “This is it,” before telling Anya she’d accompany her.
As the two made their way to the bar cart, Anya was the one that broke the silence, “Lara Croft, huh?”
Raven looked the girl up and down, “Indiana Jones, huh?”
“A very bad joke could be made about our costumes right now,” Anya smirked as she poured herself a drink.
“Or a very good pick up line,” Raven offered.
Raven was never one to back down from a challenge, “I know you raided the lost ark, but I’d raid your tomb any day.”
Without saying a word, Anya stepped out of the way so the other girl could make her drink of choice.
“So?” Raven asked, mixing her cocktail.
Anya raised a brow, “So what?”
“Did it work?” Raven asked, sipping her whiskey and soda.
“Hmm,” Anya brought her finger to her chin, “Yeah, I think it did. Find me for a dance later,” she winked then walked away.
Raven rushed to find Clarke—in her haste, she ran into what seemed to be a big green blanket, “Shit, sorry.”
The figure turned to face Raven, but their face was hidden in the depths of the overly large onesie, “No worries, though it’s kind of hard to miss me.”
“You must be Anya’s sister,” Raven pointed out, “the crocodile.”
“That I am,” the voice said, “on both accounts, I guess.”
“You should meet my friend,” Raven laughed, “your costumes go together weirdly well.”
“I’m heading out soon, but maybe I’ll catch them around,” the voice offered before walking away.
“Clarke,” Raven grabbed the blonde who was in the middle of a conversation with what seemed to be someone dressed up as Han Solo, “come with me.”
Clarke excused herself before turning her attention to Raven, “What the fuck, Rae?”
“I ran into Anya’s sister—Anya totally wants me, by the way, but that’s besides the point,” she let out in one breath, “You need to see her costume, I need a picture of you guys together.”
“What’s she dressed as?” Clarke asked, still unamused by the interruption.
“You’ll know when you see her,” Raven laughed, “I have an idea for a bet.”
“No. No way, Rae,” Clarke stepped back, “I’m not doing that with you again, look at where it got me.”
Raven grabbed her by the arms, “If she’s as hot as Anya, you’d totally thank me for this little get up of yours.”
“If?” Clarke questioned, “I thought you said you met her?”
“Well,” Raven shrugged, “I did, but I couldn’t see her face because of her-”
“Oh my God,” Clarke interrupted her, “is that a crocodile? Is that Anya’s sister?”
“Griff,” Raven pulled her attention back, “I will give you $50 if you jump on top of her and pretend to wrangle her.”
Clarke’s felt like her eyes were about to launch out of their sockets, “That’s assault, you psycho. I don’t even know her, I’m not doing that.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Anya’s voice entered, “but my sister basically made a comment about wanting to be under a hot girl tonight. You can make her dreams come true.”
“I’m not doing this,” Clarke shook her head.
Raven reached into her pocket and pulled out cash, “C’mon, Griff. Pretty please. It’ll be the best Halloween memory we’ll ever have.”
“Yeah, until she realizes a strange is jumping her and punches me in the face,” Clarke quipped back.
Anya laughed, “She wouldn’t. I know her better than anyone, she’ll get a good laugh out of it once she sees your costume.”
The blonde looked between the two, before gulping down her drink, followed by Raven’s. She grabbed the cash her friend was dangling, “I’m probably going to regret this.”
Before she knew it, she was right behind the crocodile. She quietly crept closer, to be at a more favorable distance to make her $50 entrance. From her vantage point, the girl wasn’t holding anything that she would spill, and there wasn’t anyone directly in front of her that would get trampled on in case they fell. Clarke took a deep breath—it was now or never.
Lexa stood there checking her phone, she had almost been there for forty-five minutes, and wondered if that was an acceptable amount of time before she dashed out. As she began to walk forward, she heard a rather loud Australian voice call out from behind her.
Before she knew it, she was face down on the ground with the weight of a body sitting on top of her. “Oof,” and a loud groan was all she could muster out.
The voice spoke up again, “Didn’t know I’d get me a live one today, mate.”
The weight finally lifted off of her and a set of arms pulled her back to her feet. She took the hood of the onesie off her head to get a better look at the situation, but saw that it was her sister that pulled her up, “What the fuck was that, Ahn?”
Anya couldn’t control her laughter, as she pointed behind where Lexa was standing. She took the cue to turn around and was met with Clarke’s bashful grin.
“They made me do it,” was all the blonde could get out. Raven was right, and Clarke made a mental note to thank her friend for forcing her into the outfit because this girl was the most attractive crocodile she had ever seen, “I’m Clarke, but you can call me ‘Bindi.’”
“Ah,” Lexa said, examining the girl, “I see how this makes sense, now. I’m Lexa, by the way, but I guess you can call me ‘crocodile.’”
Raven looked between the two who seemed to be staring at each other, “Just to be clear, no one made her do anything. I bet her $50 and she took it fair and square.”
“$50, huh?” Lexa asked, eyes still locked on the blonde’s.
Clarke smirked, “Want to split the winnings for your troubles?”
“Or we can get out of here and you can buy me a drink?”
“Deal,” Clarke put out her hand.
Lexa took her hand to shake it, “One question, though. Is the accent real?”
Clarke shrugged, “It can be if you want it to be.”
