#clexmas19

[hushthots]

Clexmas Day 2: Under the Mistletoe

[cantgetoutofmyheda]

Oh no I have this Clexa Christmas storyline stuck in my head where Clarke and Lexa are in the same friend group and have started to date but haven’t told anyone yet, because they’re just testing the waters and just want to see where things are going.

Due to whatever circumstances, they both couldn’t make it home to their families for the holidays and end up staying at Lexa’s over Christmas Eve and Day and indulge in movies and food and drinks and each other. Clarke asks Lexa, a self-proclaimed “Grinch” to get a tree and lights and other not-so-subtle decorations, and Lexa submits to it because it’s Christmas and it’s Clarke and she has those pretty blue eyes that Lexa is such a sucker for.

It’s the day after Christmas and Lexa wakes up to an empty bed and a text from Clarke saying that her streak of not getting a page from work has ended, her being “on call” for the holiday week is now in full swing. Lexa walks into her living room and decides to tackle the mess later—empty takeout containers, bottles of wine, and wrapping paper that housed all of their gifts (mostly gag gifts like toilet paper with Trump’s face printed on it).

She slumps down onto the couch and covers herself with the blanket that Clarke had gifted her with (they both know that the gift was actually for Clarke—the blankets in Lexa’s apartment were more for decor, not for comfort), turns on the TV to flip through the channels, and decides that she’d get up in fifteen minutes to clean out the French press and make some fresh coffee.

She doesn’t realize she fell asleep until she hears her front door opening. From her horizontal position on the couch, she lets out a “Thank god you’re back. Is it bad that I miss you already?”

The lack of answer causes her to peek her head over the large arm of the sofa and what she sees makes her want to crawl under the large throw and never emerge.

Her cousin, Anya, is standing in her entryway with a bag of wrapped presents (likely sent from Anya’s parents and younger brother from her quick trip home for Christmas). She cocks a brow at her cousin on the couch and slowly walks into the living space. Lexa, the group’s self-proclaimed “neat freak” was surrounded by quite a mess and quite the mixture of festive decorations—something none of her apartments were ever adorned with.

“It looks like the Bryant Park Holiday Market threw up in here,” Anya says as she places the bag of presents at the foot of the tree, “What the fuck is all this?”

Lexa looks around the space, her eyes following Anya’s around the room, “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Anya laughs, “There’s a ten foot tree in your living room. With lights. And ornaments.” Her eyes wander to the far side of the room, “And two stockings hanging from your bar cart?”

“For presents. That’s what Christmas stockings are for,” Lexa rolls her eyes, but deep down inside she really wants to shrivel up and die.

“Right. Presents,” her cousins nods, “So I’m assuming the second stocking is for the person you thought I was when I walked in?”

Lexa hesitates, “Uh, sure.”

“Spit it out, Lex. Who have you been holed up in here with this week?”

Thankfully (or not-so-thankfully), they were interrupted by the sound of keys in the front door. Both women quickly turn their attention to the door when they hear, “Babe, can you believe they fucking sent me home after only being there for four hours? I grabbed you a coffee and some breakfast–”

Clarke stops in her tracks when she realizes it’s not just her and Lexa in the apartment, “Oh.”

Anya looks between the two, “OH.”

Lexa lifts the blanket and drapes it over her head, “Shit.”

[geralehane]

Day 4: Let It Snow

(where clexa are snowed in and neither is too pleased about that but then they bang)

December 21st, 7:28 p.m.

It’s been snowing for two days straight. Today’s the third, and so far there’s no sign of stopping. Clarke doesn’t really mind. Sure, she’s not a fan of snow and cold, but that’s exactly why she’s hiding inside, with a warm blanket and hot cocoa and countless tv shows to keep her company.

And, of course, Lexa, who’s trapped with her and who honestly could’ve left the first night but chose to stay. Clarke can’t say she’s unhappy about it. Quite the opposite.

Strong arms snake around her waist from behind, and Clarke smiles when she feels Lexa nuzzle her neck. “Morning.”

“I think you mean evening. We slept all day. It’s already dark outside.”

“As long as I’m with you,” Lexa murmurs into her hair, “I don’t care.”

Her reply is a slow, lazy kiss.

December 19th, 4:13 p.m.

“Well, it’s official,” Clarke announces, not looking up from her phone. “The city is closed down. Pretty sure power’s about to go out soon, too.”

“Great,” Lexa mumbles, running a hand through her hair. “Just what I needed today.”

This time, Clarke does look up from her phone to squint at her. “Is the idea of spending time with me that horrible to you, Lexa?” She’s not going to lie. It stings. It really fucking hurts, truth be told. And, okay, maybe it is kind of her own fault, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it.

Lexa sighs - and the way she does, tired and weary, only serves to agitate Clarke further. “You know that’s not what I meant, Clarke. I have things to do. I planned to be home by six. Obviously, that’s not happening now. And…” She takes a deep breath, and Clarke has a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’s pretty sure she’s not gonna like whatever it is Lexa’s about to say. “It’s not that terrible - spending time with you. But - I believe I would be speaking for both of us when I say it is uncomfortable given our history.”

Clarke flushes angrily before stomping on it, swallowing the truth down like a bitter pill that it is. Lexa’s right. It is uncomfortable. But it seems they have different reasons.

It’s difficult for Lexa because Clarke’s hurt her. It’s difficult for Clarke because she wants her. Story that’s been told countless times over and over; and Clarke can’t believe she’s one of those stories now.

A love loved and a love lost. How tragic and entirely cliche.

She swallows. “I thought we agreed to stay friends.”

Lexa’s emerald eyes are dark and unreadable. “We did,” she quietly says. “But back then I didn’t count on being - um. I wasn’t ready for spending so much time with you in such close quarters.”

“You mean you didn’t know you were going to be stuck with me,” Clarke says.

Lexa stays silent, and it makes everything worse.

December 21st, 8:13 p.m.

“You totally cheated!”

“What? No I didn’t!”

Lexa huffs, and Clarke really wants to kiss her. “We already dealt ace of hearts. There’s no way it was in the deck. You took it from the other pile.”

Clarke really wants to kiss her, and so she does. Lexa’s lips are warm and eager on her own, and when she breaks the kiss, leaning back, Lexa stays there, eyes still closed, a small smile on her face. “Okay,” she says quietly. “Now you’re really cheating.”

She chuckles. “So what if I am?”

This time, it’s Lexa who leans in and gives her a gentle kiss, making her melt.

December 19th, 6:39 p.m.

“Costia must be worried sick,” Clarke comments out of blue, taking another sip of her wine. She wonders if that second glass prompted her to speak up. She wonders if she wants to hear what Lexa has to say about her surprising choice of topic of conversation.

Lexa clears her throat and doesn’t look at Clarke when she answers. “I doubt it,” she says. “We haven’t spoken in months.”

Clarke is really proud of herself when she manages not to drop the glass when her heart leaps into her throat. Come on, she scolds herself. Really? Lexa went through a break-up and you’re happy? Some friend you are.

But that’s the thing, she replies stubbornly to herself. I don’t want to be her friend. It’s not enough.

It’s never going to be enough.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says out loud. “I mean - are you okay?”

She watches Lexa shrug and stare ahead. “I think so.” She looks down at her glass of wine, still untouched. “It was - we disagreed on some things, and she left. She did let me know she found a place to stay and her brother came by to get her stuff two weeks ago so I know she’s alive and well. It is weird without her there, but… I’m okay. I think.” Lexa’s words are as jumbled as Clarke’s feelings.

It’s still snowing outside, and Clarke swallows as she discreetly studies Lexa’s profile, illuminated by candlelight, the lines of her face sharp and gorgeous. “And what things did you disagree on?” She asks, surprised at how dry her throat has become.

Lexa smirks, bitter and humorless. “Some things,” she repeats herself. “Mostly my feelings.” She doesn’t clarify further, but Clarke doesn’t need her to.

Their gazes meet, and the unspoken ‘for you’ hangs heavily in the air between them, ready to fall and shatter.  

December 21st, 9:35 p.m.

“Fuck,” Clarke pants. Her heart is fluttering madly in her chest, and she revels in that feeling. Revels in feeling Lexa’s naked skin slide against her own, slick with sweat. Basks in Lexa’s confident smirk that borders on arrogant. It used to infuriate her. Now, she finds it endearing.

She finds it endlessly sexy.

“I take it you liked it,” Lexa teases, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Clarke’s lips and let her taste herself, heady and tangy with lust. She laps it all off Lexa’s mouth, eager and greedy for more.  

“You don’t have to be an ass about it,” she laughs when Lexa gently breaks the kiss. “Of course I liked it. I loved it.”

Lexa’s green eyes are soft and smiling. “I love you.”

“Sap.” Another kiss, barely there, tender and light. “I love you, too.”

December 19th, 8:00 p.m.

“I never once said I didn’t have feelings for you,” Clarke fires back, feeling the familiar burn of anger course through her veins. Lexa doesn’t look like she’s feeling any better. Her cheeks are flushed, whether from anger or alcohol, Clarke’s not sure; and her eyes are narrowed and focused.

“Yes,” she mockingly agrees with Clarke, her glare steady. “And you never once said you did have them, either.”

“That’s not true,” Clarke says, knowing perfectly well just how true it is. But - she was so many things back then. Fresh out of a year-long relationship, scared, unsure if she was ready. Insecure and terrified and - was it Lexa she liked, or was it the idea of Lexa?

It was Lexa. Of course it was Lexa, but she was too busy with all the shit that was happening in her life to really see that, and when she did, it was too late.

Except - Lexa never gave her a second chance, did she? “You never gave me a second chance,” Clarke voices her hurt out loud.

Okay, maybe saying that wasn’t a wise decision on her part. Seems like she’s all out of those lately.

She can almost feel how hot Lexa’s glare is on her skin. “I never gave you a second chance,” Lexa repeats lowly. Clarke cringes. She hates when Lexa gets like this. Her quiet, cold rage is so much more terrifying than any screaming. “You said you weren’t ready, and I respected your wishes for months. You weren’t ready alright. For me. You were very ready for Finn, were you not?”

Ah, and so they’ve arrived to the worst mistake of her life. She sincerely hopes that’s the last one she makes. At least with Lexa.

She can’t hurt her like this ever again. “It didn’t mean anything,” she whispers. “Lexa, I swear, it didn’t mean anything.”

Lexa’s eyes shine, and for the first time since that awful, horrible night, Clarke is allowed to see the hurt dulling the emerald green again. “Did I ever mean anything?”

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke chokes through her unshed tears, “I’m so sorry you even have to ask that.”

“Well,” Lexa swallows. “I do.”

December 21st, 11:25 p.m.

Lexa’s abs quiver under Clarke’s wet, slow kisses as she climbs back up to drop her final kiss on plump lips, happily sighing into them.

“That was amazing,” Lexa whispers to her when they part. “Thank you.”

“Lexa,” she laughs, plopping down next to her and sighing again when Lexa gathers her in her arms. “You don’t have to thank me every time I go down on you. Just putting it out there.”

“Ah, yes, you did put out quite a lot today.” Lexa laughs when Clarke slaps her shoulder. “I’m sorry! You walked right into that one, you have to admit.”

“Whatever,” Clarke huffs. “Kiss me.”

Lexa does. “Just so you know,” she whispers. “I don’t mind you putting out. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Yes, but a great one.”

Clarke squeezes said ass when Lexa rolls them over, situating herself between Clarke’s legs, her gaze alight with purpose. “I hate that I can’t disagree with you on that one.”

“You love it.”

“I love you.”

December 19th, 8:32 p.m.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Lexa rasps, and Clarke immediately stops kissing her neck, only for Lexa to grab the back of her neck and press a demanding kiss against her mouth. “That doesn’t mean I want to stop,” she points out.

Clarke shakes her head, trying to clear it of Lexa-induced haze. “Maybe we should,” she says, as weak as her knees. “Maybe we should talk first.”

“We talked plenty,” Lexa disagrees before lapping at Clarke’s mouth, seeking entrance that Clarke immediately grants, moaning at the feel of Lexa’s tongue against hers, wet and hot. God, she’s been waiting for it for so long. Hell, she’s been dreaming about it practically every night, longing for Lexa’s touch. But not quite like this. Not when she’s still mad at her.

“Lexa,” she breathes. “We should talk. Please.”

Her heart squeezes in her chest, sharp and painful, when Lexa blinks at her. “Is there anything to talk about?”

She hates this emotional rollercoaster. Her tears taste of salt when she swallows them down. “Yes. Of course there is something to talk about. Us. My feelings for you.”

“Oh.” Lexa's expression grows unreadable once again. “I guess I misread this.” It's not like Clarke can blame her, really. One second they are yelling at each other, another they are tearing each other’s clothes off. Easy to become confused. Except Lexa wasn't confused. She was pretty happy shoving her tongue down Clarke's throat just a second ago without thinking of any complications.

Clarke's so intent on discussing her feelings for Lexa - but what about Lexa's feelings for her? Or, perhaps, lack thereof?

Because maybe that's all it is. One first and last taste of what's it like to be with Clarke before Lexa finally and truly moves on.

Her tears are hot and unwelcome on her cheeks, and she can't control them.

December 22nd, 01.30 a.m.

“Snow’s stopped,” Clarke mumbles sleepily into Lexa's shoulder, tightening her arm around her waist. Her reply is Lexa's soft snores, and she grins, nuzzling at the naked skin of Lexa's back. She wouldn't have pegged Lexa for little spoon, but she's made a lot of surprising discoveries during the last two days. For starters, Lexa is a cuddler. She's also a talker, and things she says in bed… Clarke feels herself clench when she recalls some of the filthy words Lexa's whispered to her while buried deep inside her cunt.

Lexa's a generous, sweet lover. She also can be rough when Clarke needs her to be. She can be anything Clarke needs; but she really only needs her to be hers. And she needs to be Lexa's, too.

Lexa mumbles something and rolls over, nearly squishing Clarke in the process. She scoots away just in time to see green eyes slowly flutter open, confused and disoriented at first, sleep not quite gone from them yet.

“Clarke.”

She smiles. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

“I don't wanna,” Lexa slurs, reaching for her and tugging her closer. Her embrace is warm and tender and it's so perfect Clarke wants to laugh and cry and yell from the rooftops just how much she loves this woman.

She settles for a smile and a deep kiss for now. “Let's go back to sleep together, then.”

Lexa's smile is shy and sweet. Clarke kisses it off her face, wanting to keep it to herself forever, drink it all in until it's all she knows. “Okay,” she whispers. “Good night, Clarke.”

Clarke whispers her love in Lexa's neck as she drifts off to sleep in her arms.

December 19th, 8:40 p.m.

“I never fell out of love with you, Clarke.” Lexa's words are strong and sure despite her voice being quiet and soft, but to Clarke, it blooms in her living room, reverberates through her chest and settles in her heart, vibrant and full of hope. “I tried. Trust me. Nothing worked.”

“I was so stupid,” Clarke whispers, cradling Lexa's warm hands in her own, cold and trembling. “I was an idiot. I wasn't ready for anything serious and I knew that you… You weren't going to be something casual. You could never be something casual to me.” When she looks at Lexa - this is exactly what falling in love feels like. Only with her, it’s infinite. She keeps falling deeper and deeper and she doubts it will ever end.

She doesn't want it to.

“Weren't?” Lexa, ever the shrewd one.

“Aren't. You aren't something casual to me.” Clarke swallows, her throat dry. “I -”

“You don't have to say it just because I did,” Lexa interrupts.

“That's not why,” she reassures her, squeezing her hand. “But this - this is part of the reason I love you. You constantly take care of me, even when that means you'll have to disregard your own feelings.”

Lexa's eyes are wide and shocked and confused and Clarke really wants to kiss her. “You love me?”

“That's what this entire conversation has been leading up to, and you're still surprised?”

December 22nd, 07.04 a.m.

“This is way too early to be conscious,” Clarke grumbles. She still accepts the steaming mug of hot cocoa. It's Lexa's secret recipe and it's as delicious as Lexa herself, so there's no way Clarke would ever turn it down. Even if it means sacrificing her precious sleep.

“Come on, grumpy cat,” Lexa chides gently, hugging her close and draping a blanket over her shoulders so that they are sharing it. “I want to watch the sunrise with you.”

“Romantic, but you don't have to woo me, Lexa. I'm already yours.”

“What are you talking about? I'll never stop wooing you.”

Clarke groans.” Oh no. Does that mean we’ll have to get up this early every time I have sex with you?”

Lexa tries to pretend to pout, but her giant smile doesn't let her. “I'll look into wooing methods that don’t require being up before noon,” she promises laughingly, pressing a tender kiss to Clarke's temple and making her let out a contented sigh.

“You do that.” She distances herself slightly so she can look her in the eye, growing serious. “I meant what I said, you know. I'm yours.”

Lexa's smile is soft, if a little stunned, still slightly disbelieving at having Clarke say it so freely and readily. “And I'm yours too.”

“Good.” She cuddles up close to Lexa again, careful not to spill her cocoa. “Also, you owe me at least three orgasms for waking me up before lunch.”

She hears Lexa's smile in her voice when she replies. “Noted.”

December 19th, 10:41 p.m.

“I get it,” Lexa speaks up suddenly, rousing Clarke from her light slumber. “I think. It doesn't hurt any less, but I get why you slept with him.”

Clarke cringes inwardly. God, if she could go back… “I don't think I get why I slept with him,” she says honestly. “I was drunk, he was there. Story, end of.” She sighs, turning in Lexa's arms to face her. Slowly runs her fingers down her cheeks, to the strong line of her jaw. Stops at the unbuttoned collar of her shirt.

“Did it make you feel better?”

“It was supposed to.” She lets out a heavy breath. “But it didn't. You know it didn't.”

“Because I walked in,” Lexa clarifies pointedly. Clarke shakes her head.

“Not only that, although that was the worst part.” She'll never forget the look on Lexa's face. She deserves to remember it.

“You didn't owe me anything,” Lexa says quietly. “You still don't. I guess what I'm trying to say is… I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. Shutting you out and making you feel guilty for something you shouldn't have felt guilty about. It's not like you cheated.”

“It felt like it.”

“Yeah.” Lexa's eyes are sad, and Clarke hates that she doesn't know how to fix it. “It did. But it's not fair to you. So I'm sorry.”

“I hurt you. I'm the one who's sorry.”

Lexa's hands are heated on Clarke's skin as she slides them over her bare arms, down to her sides, tentatively plays with the hem of her shirt. “How about we stop being sorry tonight? This one night.”

Clarke's heart is lodged in her throat. “Only this one night?”

Lexa reads right through her, and her gaze grows warm. “One night with you will never be enough for me,” she says earnestly.

“Are you sure about this?”

Full lips quirk in a small smile. “It's been more than half a year,” she says. “I've been sure for a long time. Unless - if you're not-”

Clarke cuts her off with a tentative kiss.

December 22, 10:34 a.m.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” The question is asked nonchalantly while Chandler and Joey hug on Clarke's screen, and it's so unexpected she almost chokes on her popcorn.

“Um,” she clears her throat. “I thought - wasn't that implied?”

Lexa looks at her like she's grown another head. “Well, yeah, but I wanted to make it official.”

Clarke squints suspiciously. “Official. You're not planning on proposing tomorrow, are you?”

“Would you say no?”

She blinks. “You know,” she starts slowly. “It might be those five orgasms talking, but I'm not sure I would.”

“Cute.” Lexa's kiss is quick and familiar. “It was six, though.”

Clarke frowns, trying to remember. “I meant this morning. Pretty sure it was five.”

“Oh,” Lexa drawls, and her smile is bad in the best way. “Well, technically, it's still morning. So, technically, I can still prove you wrong.”

Clarke's laugh is loud and full when Lexa playfully tackles her on the couch, peppering kisses all over her face and neck.

And yes, it might be way too early and it might be a terrible idea, but right now, with Lexa murmuring her love and gently claiming her all over again, she can't imagine herself ever saying no if she saw Lexa on one knee, be it tomorrow or in a year.  

[letskrisztatiszta]

[clexmas24]

Holy Clexmas!

Hey everyone! 

It’s Clexmas time, and we are rollin’ with Holy Clexmas 2019 this year! 

Last year we did 12 Days of Clexmas, but after thinking about how busy we all get during the holidays, I decided to cut it down to 7 days. It will still have a Clexa Winter Wonderland vibe, so anything goes. Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Ōmisoka, New Years… You want to celebrate/represent it, go for it!!!

How To Participate: Fanfics, fanart, moodboards, photo manipulations, fic recs, fanvids, anything that jingles like Clexa, let’s see it!

Holy Clexmas 2019 will start on December 19th, 2019, so make sure you’ve finished all your shopping before then. 

Below are the themes for Holy Clexmas. I will post a detailed list of the themes very soon in case anyone needs a little help getting those gears turning, so be on the lookout! Holy Clexmas! 7 days of all things Clexa?!

Dec. 19: Winter Wonderland Dec. 20: Cocktails and Candy Canes Dec. 21: A Christmas Carol Dec. 22: Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Dec. 23: Naughty or Nice Dec. 24: Under The Mistletoe Dec. 25: Christmas Morning/Free Day

Reblog or send this post out to anyone you think will enjoy! Send out ideas/prompts to your favorite writers and artists! This year’s tag will be: #HolyClexmas19

[ghostlybelladonnas]

clexmas day 6 - “cocktails and candy canes”

[sabrinushka]

Happy Holidays!

Clexa and the Christmas Dino wish you a very Happy Holiday season with all the best for 2020 XD

[dontcha-wanheda]

Day 3- Naughty or Nice

Holy Clexmas, is right! Not gonna lie this is my favorite day haha 

[thecrimsonknight]

Dec. 25: Christmas Morning/Free Day

[iadmireuwashingline]

‘Ugh, it’s that time of year again’ by @jazzyjazzin

There is no one Clarke gets along with less than Lexa Woods. Normally when it comes to rivals you are not forced to spend every holiday with them, let alone a room with one singular bed. But Lexa Woods and her siblings spend every holiday with Clarke and her family and what's Christmas without a persistent rivalry and constant competition? At least, this holiday seems to be shaping up the same as every year until the Blake's arrive changing Lexa's normal un-bothered attitude to something different and new that Clarke isn't used too.

Will they spend the holiday at each others throats as usual, or will new guests force out new confessions that change the way Clarke and Lexa communicate forever?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21372049/chapters/50909233

[hushthots]

Clexmas Day 4: Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

[geralehane]

Day 3: A Christmas Carol

where clexa are slayers, raven’s a witch, and lexa’s haunted by the spirit of christmas movies. it’s a trip y’all. ***

It doesn’t take too long for Lexa to realize something is terribly wrong. First, she wakes up from a particularly vivid dream-rendition of A Christmas Carol where the ghosts of past, future, and present – all suspiciously looking like Raven – gleefully demonstrate how awful her life might turn out if she doesn’t get excited about Christmas (and, strangely, about the new Cats movie, which is worrying in and of itself). Then she discovered that someone incredibly dedicated to giving her diabetes has swapped all the products in her fridge and on her shelves with candy canes. And other various vaguely Christmas-themed candy. Which could be a simple prank that reeked of Raven’s usual shenanigans, and it’s not like it would’ve taken the resident witch any effort to pull this off. Lexa isn’t well-versed in magic, but she’s sure something like this is a matter of Raven merely snapping her fingers. 

Raven, however, informs her that it’s not, in fact, that simple. “I would have to spend about an hour that I don’t have,” she tells her over the phone, unusually grumpy. Lexa glances at the clock and winces. “An hour that I’d rather spend sleeping in. Is the concept of weekend that foreign to you?” 

“Slayers don’t get days off,” she reminds her. 

Raven scoffs and promptly hangs up, so Lexa decides to try her luck again at a more reasonable hour. She’s about ninety percent sure it’s the witch. Another ten percent goes to her fellow slayer who’s definitely sleeping in right now and it would be no use even attempting to have a conversation with her before noon. She sighs. It’s not really a matter of life or death, so she settles on simply getting ready for the day and having breakfast at a diner. A decision she makes after discovering spaghetti drenched in chocolate sauce in one of the pots. 

Sick even for you, Reyes, she thinks with a shudder and heads to the bathroom for a quick shower. 

Okay, so maybe it takes her a good hour to realize this isn’t a matter of a simple prank. But it’s only after she stops two particularly unlucky robbers from breaking and entering her apartment and then running into a neighbor she’s pretty sure she’s never had any interactions with before but who was adamant his Christmas decorations were going to be so much better than hers that she texts the entire group. And that’s how she finds herself at Raven’s, struggling to maintain her cool. 

“What do you mean,” she says slowly, through gritted teeth, “I’m being haunted by Christmas movies?” 

Raven shrugs while Anya and Octavia are trying not to burst out laughing. “What you just said.” 

“That,” Clarke utters with a surprisingly straight face, “has gotta be the most hilarious thing ever. Oh, come on,” she huffs when Lexa shoots her a look. “You’re literally living through all the Christmas classics. It’s cute and fluffy and adorable.” She pauses for a moment, thoughtful. “Which is everything you hate, so this is basically your nightmare. I guess it’s not that fun. For you, I mean.” 

Before Lexa has a chance to bare her teeth, Raven speaks up again. “Uh, I didn’t say classics. I just said movies. Any Christmas movies are a fare game.” 

“So…” Octavia starts, before her eyes widen. “Wait. Die Hard is a Christmas movie.” 

“As is Black Christmas. And Krampus. Don’t forget Krampus,” Anya adds. Suddenly no one is laughing anymore. Even Clarke bites her lip in concern. “Well. Fuck.” 

“Eloquent as always,” Lexa deadpans, and turns to Raven. “Undo it,” she demands. 

Raven, no doubt, has already listed about a dozen Christmas-themed horror flicks in her head, because she only utters on it instead of her predictable snark and hurries to her bookshelf, Octavia and Anya in tow. 

Lexa lets out a tired sigh and rubs at her temples. Her mind’s working quickly, trying to figure out who could possibly be behind this admittedly clever curse. None of the demons they ran into this month seemed the kind to pull something like that off. No, this is intelligent. Which makes it so much more dangerous. 

“Hey.” Clarke’s soft voice startles her, and she scowls after she almost jumps at the sound. What a slayer, she thinks sourly. “We’ll figure this out.” 

“I know.” Her curt reply, however, doesn’t seem to placate the other slayer who’s still giving her a weird look of almost… compassion? She shrugs it off, standing up. “I’m gonna go to Murphey’s bar, ask around. Maybe someone’s seen something suspicious.” 

Clarke’s immediately on her feet, too, and she looks incredulous, to say the least. “You’re gonna go to a demon bar after we just found out there’s a giant target on your back?” 

I can handle it is there, at the tip of her tongue, biting and cold, but she manages to stop just in time. As different as they are, Clarke’s right. She’s just… restless. She tells her as much. 

“Yeah.” That, Clarke can agree with. “I just want to slay something. I’m buzzing with anger.” 

That takes Lexa by surprise. Then again, this is slayer business. Clarke takes that seriously, at least. 

*** 

They go through what seems to be an endless number of pages, and Raven calls several friends before they manage to figure out the type of the curse. Raven tells her, grimly, that she can’t exactly end it. 

“It will wear off in a day, and I can limit the dangers,” she says before Lexa can implode. “So you won’t die and you won’t have to slay fucking Krampus. You will be mildly inconvenienced till tomorrow.” 

Lexa sighs. “Fine. That works. Tell me we can track down the person who did it.” 

The witch only shakes her head. “I’m not sure,” she admits. “Now, sit still.” 

*** 

All in all, it’s not so bad. The mysterious caster reveals herself and, to Lexa’s utter embarrassment, turns out to be a rather spiteful witch she had an affair with several years ago. Clarke won’t stop making the woman scorned jokes the entire evening after Lexa manages to sort it out with her barely-ex. Which is the point she’s currently trying to make as Clarke and her sit on her couch and alternate between swigs of beer and candy cane bites. 

“We never dated,” she grumbles. “And I explicitly told her that. And as soon as feelings became involved we had a long, honest talk and amicably split.” 

“Why’d you split if you were never together?” Clarke asks, tongue-in-cheek and a candy cane pointed at Lexa, and she has to admit that she got her there. The blonde slayer looks proud of herself, and Lexa can’t bring herself to be grumpy about it. It’s not often she gets to see this side of Clarke. Goofy and relaxed and young, instead of guarded and closed-off. If all it takes to get them to be if not friends then at least friendly acquaintances are Lexa’s romantic failures, she’ll download Tinder tomorrow. 

“Alright,” Clarke chuckles, lightly, after a yet another dig. “Guess she didn’t’ get the memo that you don’t date.” 

Lexa blinks. “I do date,” she clarifies. “Well, not at the moment, but I do in general. I’m not… against the concept.” 

“Huh,” Clarke says, then, and something in her eyes is both unreadable and alluring; enough for Lexa to blink away the slight haze of alcohol and think of leaning in. “The more you know.”

“Do you?” Lexa has to ask, of course, because why not push her luck on this already bizarre day. “Do you date?” she elaborates when Clarke tilts her head to the right, confused. 

The blonde slayer wets her lips. “Not at the moment,” she replies, voice low, charged with energy Lexa’s afraid to misinterpret, “but I do in general.”

She dares to lean closer when Clarke speaks again. “I was worried about you, you know. Today. It wasn’t just a slayer thing to me. I want you to know that.” 

“Do you read minds now?” Lexa murmurs, too surprised to cover it with sarcasm. 

Blue eyes shine in the low light of her apartment. “No. I just pay attention. Maybe,” she lets out a quiet laugh. “Maybe I should’ve paid even more.” 

Lexa doesn’t lean in more, but Clarke does end up staying, diffusing the sudden tension with an offer to watch a Christmas movie that Lexa tries to indignantly refuse but ends up caving anyway.

In the morning, she wakes to an empty apartment and a knock on the door, and she doesn’t even pretend to hide her smile when it’s Clarke standing on the other side. “Weren’t you just there on my couch?” She implores, leaning against her doorframe with a lopsided smirk.

Clarke grins. Lifts her finger up to her lips and then lifts a big card with say it’s carol singers written on it in her infamously bad handwriting. 

She feels like howling with laughter. “Seriously? Love, Actually? Am I a joke to you?” Then, something occurs to her and her eyes widen. “Wait. Shit. The curse was supposed to be—”

“This isn’t the curse,” Clarke interrupts, still grinning. “And I did contemplate holding you hostage in an office building but that would’ve required a bit more effort and I don’t feel like we are at that stage yet.” 

Now that is an eyebrow-raising sentence. “Oh? So there are stages?” 

Clarke gives her a look. “Are you going to invite me in for breakfast that hopefully doesn’t include candy canes?” 

She pushes off her doorframe and feels her smile widening as she retreats back into the apartment and to the kitchen. “I’m not inviting you in – not with our line of work. But there are eggs and some toast.” 

(She does lean in later that afternoon, and Clarke tastes like laughter and strawberry jam.)

[thessclexa]

Polis Tattoo AU update! Read here. 

Happy Clexmas everyone! Wishing everyone a safe and happy holiday season!

@clexmas19

[cantgetoutofmyheda]

A little Clexa Clexmas fun for my Clexa Secret Santa!

Merry Christmas, from your Clexa Secret Santa!

Hi there! I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful, holiday! It’s been an absolute pleasure to be your Clexa Secret Santa. Here’s the piece that I wrote for ya, based on the questions you answered over the last few days. I won’t be online too much after this, so I hope you have a wonderful week spent with your partner. Cheers on the new job and hope you have an amazing New Year!

xx Your Clexa Secret Santa aka @cantgetoutofmyheda

—

Lexa shook her head as her fingers instinctively tapped the steering wheel to the melody of the season’s most overplayed song—Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You.” Stopped at a traffic light, leaving the outskirts of the city before the two-hour drive, she opted to whip out her phone and take a  quick video to send to Clarke. The song was most certainly her best friend’s favorite, and even though Lexa was absolutely tired of it, she figured a quick video of her off-pitch singing to Clarke’s favorite holiday tune would put some sort of a smile on the recipient’s end, since she was still stuck in Philly for a few more days taking the last of her med school finals.

The brunette felt bad about leaving a few days before Clarke, but duty called. It was tradition—Lexa would be home a week before Christmas and help on her family’s farm with the last of the mad holiday rush for fresh baked goods, wreaths and garland, and freshly cut down Christmas trees. Clarke was normally at her side for the two-hour drive, both girls having left their hometown in the Poconos Mountains for the bustling city of Philadelphia, but Clarke’s med school schedule this year had other plans for the blonde.

Her phone buzzed with a new message from the blonde.

Griff: You’re a dork, but I love you. Thanks for the early morning laugh! Drive safe and tell Anya and Gus I’m sad I won’t be there until the 23rd.

Lexa smiled, knowing that her tactic worked, before quickly typing a message back.

Your presence will surely be missed, but mostly by me because I’m going to end up stuck tying trees to the top of peoples’ cars all alone this week. Hurry home, will ya?

—

Lexa grunted as she tugged the wagon holding an 11-foot Douglas Fir, “Is the day over yet?”

“Get in the holiday spirit, little sister. Jeez,” Anya laughed as she watched her sister struggle.

“Aren’t you going to help me?” Lexa asked as she stopped tugging the wagon, “This thing weighs a million pounds. Why do we even offer free car-top mounting? I wasn’t born for this kind of manual labor.”

“Lex,” her older sister started, “as you’re a lawyer, I’d like to think that you know we offer this free service so no one accidentally gets injured on our property. And you were born for this kind of manual labor—you were literally born into the fourth generation of Triku Farms. Sitting behind a desk all day has gotten you soft.”

Lexa rolled her eyes, “I do not sit behind a desk all day.”

Anya quipped a brow, “Oh, so is that why when I asked Clarke what to get you for Christmas, she suggested something nice for your desk?”

At the mention of the blonde’s name, Lexa heard a familiar chirp coming from the pocket of her Carhartt jacket—the jacket she wore exclusively when she was home for the holidays.

Griff: Should I be annoyed that Finn asked me to skip my study group tonight so we could celebrate Christmas together before we both left, but then ended up bailing when his study group decided to go to happy hour?

Lexa clenched her jaw—the expression stemming from the mixture of her annoyance of Clarke’s current fling and the fact that Anya was cutting some rope, signaling that she was ready for Lexa to hoist herself and the tree atop the SUV next to them.

“Ugh, okay,” Lexa said towards her sister’s direction, as she found the easiest part of the tree to lift it up by.

“What’s wrong?” Anya asked, knowing that the annoyance her sister wore wasn’t just about the tree she was readying to hoist above her head.

Lexa finally got the tree settled where she wanted it, then reached for one end of the rope Anya was holding. The pair instinctively walked to opposite sides of the truck to start securing the tree down.

“Nothing, Clarke’s boyfriend is just a total loser and she deserves better,” Lexa shrugged as she tied the first knot, “apparently he asked her to cancel some stuff tonight so they could do a little Christmas thing together and then he ended up bailing on her.”

“I see,” Anya said, working on the knots on her side.

Lexa took her sister’s short reply as a sign to keep talking, “It’s like she’s disposable to him or something—he doesn’t give two shits about anything other than himself. He’s not even good looking in the slightest.”

Anya nodded, even though she knew her sister couldn’t see her, “I see.”

“She’s just… I don’t know, maybe it’s just because she’s so busy with med school that she figures being with him would be easy since they’re kind of on the same schedule, but she can do so much better, Ahn. Everything he does for her is so half-assed, if even that.”

“Sounds like it,” Anya nodded again, tying the final knot on her side.

Lexa pulled the line and made sure there was no slack, before stepping off the sideboard to meet Anya behind the truck, “She’s the most beautiful person on this entire planet, there isn’t one star as beautiful as her, but she always ends up with people who don’t see it. It’s ridiculous—infuriating, even.”

“Well,” Anya looked to her sister, “First of all, there technically aren’t any stars on this planet, Lex. Secondly, sounds like you have a bigger issue here.”

Lexa furrowed her brow, “What issue?”

Anya let out a breath, “You love her.”

“Of course I love her, Ahn,” Lexa started, “she’s my best friend.”

“No,” Anya couldn’t help but stop to laugh at her sister’s aloofness, “You’re in love with her.”

Lexa shook her head, “No I’m not, don’t be ridiculous, Ahn.”

Anya met her sister’s comment with a knowing stare, and at that moment, Lexa realized that her sister was probably right.

Shit.

—

It had been four days of painstaking manual labor and four days of Lexa having a mild mental breakdown at the realization that her sister so kindly pointed out to her. As composed as she thought she was, her slight change in behavior had been apparent to everyone—especially Clarke.

Griff: T-minus three hours until I’m back! What time are you coming over tonight?

I don’t want to take away from any family time, I know your trip got cut short for the holidays, but tomorrow at the farm?

Griff: Are you so sick of seeing me all the time that you want to cancel our pre-Christmas Eve sleepover??

I just feel bad taking time away from your parents, especially on your first night back. But tomorrow, okay?

Griff: Yeah, I guess you’re right. Tomorrow, then.

Get home safe.

Griff: Thanks. Merry almost Christmas. Love you, Lex.

Me too.

Lexa sighed at her phone and threw it back into her coat pocket. Before she had a second to overthink the conversation she just had, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Hey, kiddo, thought we’d find you moseying around here!”

She looked up to find Clarke’s parents beaming smiles at her, “Jake, Abby, what are you guys doing here?”

“You mean other than seeing our second favorite daughter?” Jake jokingly asked, before pointing at a box in Abby’s hand, “Just picking up one of these for dinner tonight.”

Lexa glanced over and saw that it was a pecan pie, “Oh,” she nodded, “Clarke’s favorite.”

“Yeah,” Abby slowly nodded, “because she’s coming home tonight. Everything okay, sweetie?”

Lexa blinked a few times, “Yeah, sorry. A little stressed at the moment,” she tapped the side of her head, “got too much on my mind, I suppose.”

“Well,” Abby started, “How about you join us for dinner tonight? Clarke should be home in a few hours, so we’ll probably eat around seven. She’d be happy to see you, and don’t you guys have your annual Christmas movie night tonight, anyway?”

“I actually just talked to her,” Lexa shuffled her feet, “I told her we could skip this year since her trip was cut short, I figured you guys would want some solo time with her.”

Her statement earned a laugh from Jake, “You two have been doing this pre-Christmas Eve movie night for over fifteen years now, Lexa. Abby and I will not be the reason that your tradition stops. You’re coming for dinner, and that’s that.”

Lexa nodded, “Okay, well it’s settled, then. Seven it is.”

—

Lexa scanned the contents of the grocery bag in her hand—a bottle of Abby’s favorite Sauvingon Blanc, a six pack of Jake’s favorite IPA, and a bottle of Clarke and Lexa’s favorite Malbec. She gave herself a nod, before taking a deep breath and knocking on the Griffin’s front door.

As quickly as the door swung open, a pair of arms were wrapped around her neck and a mop of blonde hair was nuzzling into her face.

Clarke gave Lexa one final squeeze before finally pulling back, “Lex! You came!”

Even though her heart was racing a mile a minute, Lexa couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s welcome, “I did, and I come bearing gifts.”

The blonde moved out of the doorway to make room for Lexa to enter the house, “What changed your mind? Missed me so much that you couldn’t handle being apart another minute?”

“That’s part of it,” Lexa shrugged, “but your parents also reminded me that nothing should stand in the way of tradition.”

“That’s right!” the pair heard Jake scream from the dining room, “Now get in here so we can eat, I’m starving!”

For the most part, dinner went as expected: silly jokes from Jake, Abby continuously telling the girls how proud she is of them both, and Clarke having a sixth sense every time Lexa needed a drink or food refill, and doing that for the brunette. The one unexpected turn was Clarke nonchalantly dropping the fact that she finally dumped Finn.

“Good,” Jake stated, “he sounded awful.”

“He was,” Lexa agreed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Clarke raised a brow at her, “Because someone was awful at answering text messages this week.”

Lexa feigned hurt, “Maybe that was because someone left me by my lonesome to haul Christmas trees across the farm for days.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Clarke scoffed, “But yes, I figured it was finally time that I took your advice.”

“And what advice was that?” Abby asked, looking between the two.

This time, it was Lexa realizing that Clarke’s glass was low on wine and was pouring her a refill, “That she deserves someone that knew how to treat her the right way, someone that would appreciate her for everything she is, because I think we can all agree that she’s quite wonderful.”

Clarke smiled at Lexa’s gesture, before bringing the glass to her lips for a quick sip, “I think I just need a clone of Lexa.”

The look on Jake’s face told Lexa that the man saw her eyes widen at Clarke’s statement. He couldn’t help but smile before asking, “A clone, huh?”

Clarke looked between her parents who happened to be sharing a knowing look with one another, “Well she’s dealt with me for this long and still hasn’t gotten sick off me, so yeah. A Lexa clone would be great.”

—

Lexa couldn’t help but yawn—it had been a long day at her family’s farm, and Clarke had made her sit through three movies.

“Noo,” the blonde protested at the sound, “one more movie, please?”

“How are you so awake right now?” Lexa asked, followed by another yawn.

Clarke answered with a shrug, “I’m just happy we’re home and happy it’s Christmas. This is one of my favorite nights of the year, I just don’t want it to end yet.”

“We can put another on, but you can’t yell at me if I fall asleep,” Lexa sighed, “and don’t forget we have to be at the farm all day tomorrow. Anya will kill us if we’re late, or useless, or both.”

“Okay, deal,” Clarke nodded, “We can put it on in my room so if you fall asleep, at least we’ll be on a bed.”

Lexa nodded, before getting up to tidy the living room before heading up. She was, without a doubt, excruciatingly nervous. Gone was the calm and collected lawyer that she prided herself on being—she suddenly felt like a teenager talking to her crush for the first time. It was all quite silly, though. Jake had said it himself earlier, they’ve been doing this for over fifteen years now—not just the pre-Christmas Eve sleepover, but sharing a bed whenever they were home for breaks, when they visited each other during college, and even now whenever they stayed at each other’s apartments in Philly. The only new thing to this scenario was Lexa’s realization that her love for the blonde wasn’t what she thought it was, and that was an absolutely terrifying thought to her.

“What’s wrong?”

Lexa snapped back into reality at the sound of Clarke’s voice, “Huh? Sorry, nothing, I was just thinking.”

“Are you sure?” Clarke nudged her, “You look upset.”

“It’s fine,” Lexa shook her head, “I’m fine. Let’s go so I can pretend to watch the movie for five minutes, then pass out.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, earning a comment from Lexa, “I’m an old lady. What can I say?”

“My old lady,” Clarke smiled as she linked arms with the brunette to head upstairs.

—

Lexa tilted her head up—the snow was starting to come down a little harder, with little snowflakes finding a resting place upon the brunette’s eyelashes, “Shit, it’s really starting to come down.”

Clarke laughed at Lexa’s apparent lack of amusement, “Lex, you love the snow. Don’t be such a Scrooge.”

“I love the snow when I’m cozy inside and watching it from the windows, not when I’m out here lugging things into the barn and sheds.”

“You know,” Anya chimed in, “last night was a record low temperature for the end of December. Coldest night in almost a decade.”

“Ha,” Clarke shook her head, “I wouldn’t know because your sister is a human furnace.”

“Clarke,” Lexa set a few bundles of ribbons and signs aside, “of all people, you should know that I run warm. Plus, you’re like a koala on my back whenever we share a bed.”

Anya looked between the two, highly entertained by the conversation, “I see.”

“Well, who needs a blanket when there’s a Lexa next to you?” Clarke shrugged, pulling the last of one of the wagons into a small shed and placing a padlock on the door before she added, “And look, you saved me from the coldest night of the year. Maybe I do need a Lexa clone.”

Anya shot her sister her trademark smirk, then turned her attention to the blonde, “A Lexa clone, huh?”

“To date,” Clarke clarified, “Apparently my parents and Lexa don’t approve of my dating history, so I’ve just come to the conclusion that I need a clone of your sister to appease them all.”

“Hm,” Anya nodded, before taking a step to walk away, almost out of earshot of the pair, “I’m sure you don’t need a clone.”

“What’d she say?” Clarke cocked her head to the side.

Lexa’s eyes widened a bit before muttering, “I’m sure it was nothing. I need to go grab a few things out in the field where the Balsam Firs are. You good finishing up in here?”

“Sure,” Clarke nodded, but Lexa was already almost out of eyesight.

It didn’t take long for Lexa to find her sister—predictable as ever, Anya was warming up inside the office of the main store, pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee.

“Ahn,” Lexa stated as she entered the quaint room, “stop it.”

“Stop what?” her sister asked, fluttering her eyelashes as she mocked her younger sister.

Lexa took a deep breath, “You can’t just say things like that, especially not around her.”

“I think you should go for it,” Anya said, before taking a sip of her coffee. “You may be pleasantly surprised.”

Lexa shook her head, “It’s not like that, Ahn. Especially not for her.”

Anya gave her sister a soft smile, “Lex, for a lawyer, you can be pretty dense. I’ve watched the two of you grow up together, and you’ve always been on the same page as one another. What makes you think this time is any different?”

“She’s my best friend. It’s terrifying. The implications would be–”

“Fuck the implications, Lex. If you weren’t so blind, maybe you’d be able to see that she looks at you the exact way you look at her. You should tell her how you feel,” she got up and put a hand on Lexa’s shoulder, “It’s Christmas, now’s a better time than ever.”

Lexa closed her eyes and took three deep breaths, “Fuck it, you’re right. Is the stereo system still connected?”

—

As Clarke locked the barn up, an extremely familiar tune caught her ear. She took a step back and instinctively lifted her ear towards the direction of the sound—Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You.”

A laugh escaped her mouth, knowing well that this was Lexa’s doing. Wanting to immediately find the brunette, Clarke went off sprinting to the source of the sound system: Trikru Farm’s office.

She ran so fast that she nearly knocked her full body into the door as she was swinging it open.

“What is it with the two of you barging in here like that?” Anya asked, feet propped on the desk as she drank from her mug.

Clarke brushed off her comment, her mind was only focused on one thing, “Was Lexa in here?”

Anya smiled, “Yeah, we exchanged a few words, then she put on this god-awful song that you love so much, then ran out.”

“Do you know where she–” Clarke started, before she realized she already had the answer, “Oh, nevermind. Balsam Firs.”

“Balsam Firs?” Anya raised a brow.

“She said she had to grab a few things from the field where the Balsam Firs were,” Clarke nodded.

“Makes sense,” Anya couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, “it’s the last tree field with all the decorations still up, and the biggest outdoor speaker we have is over there, too.”

“Gotcha,” Clarke nodded, “gotta go.”

—

Once Clarke made her way to the field where the Balsam Firs were, it’s wasn’t exactly hard to pinpoint where Lexa was. The music system was still blasting her all-time Christmas favorite, but the sound of Lexa’s off-key singing was a definite sign she was nearing the brunette.

Peeking through rows of snow-capped Christmas trees that didn’t make it to a home this season, Clarke finally laid eyes on something that ignited a soothing warmth throughout her body—Lexa standing atop a crate with “Letters to Santa” painted on it, and an old, beat up, Santa hat lazily slung on her head. Her eyes were shut as she scream-sang the final words to the song, getting way into it more than she’d ever end up admitting.

As the words ended and the melody started to fade, Clarke let out a laugh, “Well, Lex. That was sure some performance.”

The brunette raised the side of her mouth into the prettiest smile Clarke’s blue eyes had ever seen, “Did you like it?”

“Loved it,” the blonde nodded.

Lexa took a step off the crate and walked towards Clarke. She shuffled her feet a few times before finally reaching for one of the blonde’s hands, “I’m sorry I’ve been so grumpy lately. I’m happy we’re both home, though.”

“It’s okay,” Clarke smiled at the gesture. The snow had lightened up and was only dusting them in soft waves. Surrounded by the Christmas trees and standing in front of Lexa, she realized this was exactly where she wanted to be, “I’m happy we’re home too.”

“I love you, Clarke,” Lexa let out, in the softest voice that the blonde had ever heard.

Clarke smiled again, taking her other hand to grab for Lexa’s free one, “I love you too, Lex.”

“No,” Lexa shook her head, “I don’t think you understand. I love you.”

The blonde took a deep breath and nodded, gripping her hands around Lexa’s just a little bit tighter, “I love you too, Lex. I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up and realize it, too.”

“Wha–”

Before the question could even escape Lexa’s mouth, she felt Clarke’s pressed softly against hers. The feeling nearly knocked the wind out of her. She slowly pulled away, “Wow.”

Clarke smirked at the brunette, “Looks like I don’t need a clone after all.”

[clexmas24]

Holy Clexmas! We are only 2 days away from starting! I hope everyone is just as excited as I am! Click here to see how to participate.

[ghostlybelladonnas]

clexmas day 3 - “naughty or nice”