A Life of Their Own

    At five months pregnant, Clarke Griffin-Woods thought she had escaped the infamous pregnancy cravings. Sure, there had been the occasional desire for pickles or ice cream, but nothing unusual. Lexa, always prepared and attentive, had handled those with ease.

    But when the cravings hit, they hit with a vengeance.

    One morning, Clarke stumbled out of bed, clutching her phone. Her eyes were glassy, her hair tousled in all directions, and she looked at Lexa with a mixture of desperation and determination.

    “I need it,” Clarke said, her voice cracking.

    Lexa blinked, mid-sip of her morning coffee. “Need what, love?”

    Clarke shoved her phone at Lexa, the screen displaying a saved Instagram post of a half bitten golden, glistening pastry drizzled with a mysterious sauce. The caption on the post? Unhelpfully vague: “The best thing I’ve ever eaten. 10/10 would recommend!”

    Lexa frowned. “What is it?”

    “I don’t know!” Clarke wailed, tears springing to her eyes. “But I need it. Now. Right now.”

    Lexa was calm and collected in most situations, but this was uncharted territory. Her wife, usually so composed, was now pacing the kitchen in full meltdown mode.

    “I need this food, Lex,” Clarke sobbed, her hands gesturing wildly. “It’s all I can think about. I’m starving, but everything else makes me nauseous.”

    Lexa stood abruptly, her inner commander activating. “I’ll find it. Don’t worry, Clarke. I’ll make this happen.”

    What followed was nothing short of chaos.

    Lexa first called Raven, describing the mystery food with the precision of a novelist trying to set a scene. “It’s golden, flaky, possibly a pastry? There’s a drizzle on top. Clarke says it might be sweet, or maybe savory. She’s not sure. Do you know what it could be?”

    Raven snorted. “That’s the most vague description I’ve ever heard. Have you tried Googling it?”

    “Of course I have!” Lexa snapped. “But nothing looks right. Clarke said it’s not just the appearance; it’s the essence. The photo doesn’t capture the essence!”

    Raven muttered something about “hormonal poets” before claiming ignorance.

    After similar calls to Anya, Octavia, Jake, and Abby—none of whom had any idea what Lexa was talking about—Lexa turned to her last resort: their fans.

    Lexa sat down at her desk, typing furiously into her phone. The image of the saved instagram post with caption as dramatic as her panicked tone.

@lexawoodswrites:
“HELP! My wife, the love of my life and the mother of our future child, is having a pregnancy craving meltdown. She’s craving a golden, flaky pastry drizzled with what may or may not be sweet sauce. I don’t know what it is, where to find it, or how to make it. I’m desperate. Clarke is inconsolable. If anyone knows what this could be, please, please help us.”

    The comments exploded within minutes:

@darkromancequeen: “Lexa, this is giving Romeo and Juliet levels of desperation, and I’m living for it.”

@chaoticfangirl: “Flaky pastry with drizzle? Could be baklava? Croissant? Strudel? Need more details!”

@ravensnarks: “So you’re saying Clarke made you call in an entire army over food? Iconic behavior.”

@anya.thehotmilitary: “Lexa. It’s called Uber Eats. Try it.”

@octavia.blake: “Whatever it is, you better hope you find it soon. Pregnant Clarke sounds terrifying.”

@foodiefeast: “Okay, pastry detectives, let’s do this. Everyone, drop suggestions below!”

    The thread devolved into a frenzied debate. Fans argued over pastries, shared links to local bakeries, and analyzed every detail Lexa provided.

@sweetandsavory: “What if it’s galaktoboureko? It’s a Greek dessert.”

@pastryqueen: “Could be mille-feuille. Layers of puff pastry and cream. Clarke would love it.”

@flakygoldenfan: “Guys, what about sfogliatella? It’s Italian and golden with a sweet filling!”

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a fan from their state chimed in:

@localfoodlover: “Lexa, I think it’s kunafa! It’s a Middle Eastern dessert, golden, crispy, and drizzled with syrup. There’s a place near downtown Arkadia that sells it. I’ll DM you the details!”

    Lexa let out a breath of relief. She showed the picture of kunafa to Clarke, who immediately burst into tears.

    “Yes! That’s it!” Clarke sobbed, clutching Lexa’s arm. “That’s exactly what I want.”

---

    By mid-morning, Lexa was back with a fresh box of kunafa, still warm from the bakery. Clarke sat cross-legged on the couch, her face lighting up as Lexa handed her the box.

    “Oh my god,” Clarke whispered, taking her first bite. Tears welled in her eyes as she chewed. “This... this is heaven. You’re my hero, Lex.”

    Lexa, exhausted but triumphant, sat beside her and kissed her temple. “I’d do anything for you, Clarke.”

---

    Later that day, Clarke posted a photo of herself holding the kunafa, her eyes red from crying but her smile radiant.

@chaoticclarkearts:
“Cravings hit hard, but my amazing wife moved mountains (and our entire battalion) to find me this perfect pastry. I don’t deserve her, but I’m so glad she’s mine. #PregnancyAdventures #KunafaLove”

    The comments? Predictably chaotic:

@darkromancequeen: “Clarke crying over dessert is a mood.”

@chaoticfangirl: “Lexa literally rallied an army for pastry. Couple goals.”

@ravensnarks: “Kunafa is the MVP of this story.”

@anya.thehotmilitary: “I’m amazed Lexa didn’t commandeer a bakery to make it herself.”

@octavia.blake: “The internet detectives deserve a shoutout. We made this happen!”

---

    That evening, as Clarke nibbled on the last piece of kunafa, Lexa wrapped her arms around her from behind.

    “You know, I thought writing a novel was hard,” Lexa murmured. “But tracking down your cravings might be my most epic challenge yet.”

    Clarke laughed, leaning back against her wife. “Worth it?”

    Lexa pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Always.”