Jan 2, 2024
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
HAPPY NEW YEAR! Here’s a chapter!
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
HAPPY NEW YEAR! Here’s a chapter!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Are we human? Or are we dancer?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Part two of our four-part finale!!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
lets see what everyone else is getting up too, shall we?
TRICK OR TREAT 👉👈
Happy Halloween beloved!
For you, a Halloween-themed FHTN snippet, featuring our favorite pair of lesbians. Enjoy~
In a place so far away that it would be pointless to even try and speculate exactly when this is occurring, a human woman is, once again, dozing off behind a cash register.
A bell over the door gives a rusty ding! And she startles awake with a, “Happy Halloween!”
The woman walking through the door pauses, giving her an incredulous look.
“Uh. Happy Halloween to you, too?”
The first human, Clementine, or Clem, blinks as the second woman saunters over to the counter, takeout coffee cup in hand, bringing with her the smell of gasoline and engine grease. It's not a pleasant smell by any means, but Clem relaxes into it all the same.
There is nothing particularly special about this human, either. Both of them are about the same age, in that strange limbo between ‘teenager’ and ‘adult’, but that's where the similarities end.
Clementine is shorter, with dark skin and darker hair, a smattering of freckles across her nose and a pumpkin-themed bandanna keeping her ringlets of tightly-curled hair from falling into her face. This new woman is tall and lean, with tanned skin and dark-blonde hair pulled back into what had probably once been a tight, no-nonsense ponytail, now coming apart with flyaways framing her face.
Her name is Clara, but you already knew that, didn’t you?
“Sorry.” Clementine says, sheepish. “Rough night.”
She seems a bit more awake now, but still rests her chin on her arms like she’s considering going back to her nap any minute.
“I figured. Big test tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah I- wait.” She blinks owlishly. “How’d you know?”
Clara grins. “You haven’t looked this shitty since finals week.”
Clementine lets out a miserable groan, reaching out a hand to swat half-heartedly at whatever part of Clara she can reach. The other woman dances just out of reach, smug grin firmly in place, and she collapses back with a whine. “It's too damn early for this.”
Clara lifts an eyebrow. “It’s almost noon.”
“Too. early.” Clementine hisses back through gritted teeth.
She rubs her eyes again, doing her best to force herself awake through sheer force of will alone. By how she’s drooping back into her seat, it doesn’t appear to be working.
Clara chuffs out a laugh, a rusty noise, like shoes in an old dryer, and holds out the plastic coffee cup in her hand as a peace offering. Clementine hadn’t noticed it until just then, and the moment she catches a whiff of coffee, it’s game over. All traces of exhaustion gone as she all but climbs over the counter, making grabby hands at the cup, chanting like a thing possessed, “Give it, give it!”
Clara lets out another rusty laugh as Clementines hands latch on to her sleeve.
“Okay, okay, chill—”
And finally, the cup is relinquished into her grip.
Clementine all but collapses back into her chair, folding dramatically around her prize like a puppet with cut strings as she cradles it close. “Oh, sweet salvation, my one true love, atlast.”
Clara looks on, amused.
“Well good mornin’ to you too, sweetheart.”
Clementine hums, uncaring. “You should have opened with the coffee.”
There’s a gasp of mock-offense as Clara tries to fight off the grin tugging at the corner of her lips. It's a losing battle.
Forgoing the lid, Clementine downs half of the drink in one practiced swoop. Her face screws up at the taste of cheap, black coffee sold at ungodly hot temperatures, but it doesn't stop her from drinking it.
A bit more awake, but no less dramatic, she goes back to being pitifully slumped over the countertop in no time, the cup already half-drained. “Ugh. Midterms are a bitch. Why did I decide to get a nursing degree?”
“You poor thing.” Clara drawls, leaning her elbows on the counter.
She still runs a hand through Clementine’s hair when she gives her puppy eyes, rolling her eyes and huffing the whole time as she does her best to pretend she isn’t completely head over heels for the woman sitting across from her. She really isn't a very good actor, not that Clementine would ever tell her that.
Clara sips on her own ‘coffee’, which, in actuality, is just hot chocolate, and Clementine’s dramatics petter off into drowsy silence.
It’s quiet, for a few beats. A companionable sort of quiet, broken only by the humming of the slurpee machine, the drone of the many, many fans, and the insistent buzzing of one of the overhead lights. They sip on their drinks together in peace.
“Sorry.” Clementine breaks silence first, looking a little bit sheepish. “Didn't get much sleep last night. You know how it is.”
“S’alright.” the blonde shrugs. “Stay up late studying?”
“Yeah. That and…”
The hand in Clementine's hair goes still. “Nightmares?”
“No.” she says quickly, and the hand goes back to running soothingly across her scalp. “just… weird dreams. You know how it is.”
“Ah. Aliens again?”
Clementine takes a moment to think. She has a very expressive face, especially compared to Clara, who has been told on many occasions about her ‘serious case of rbf’. You can always tell what Clementine is thinking about, she's a bit of an open book. Her eyebrows narrow together as she thinks. “I don’t… something like that.”
Clara listens intently, nodding along. She's a very good listener.
“It wasn’t scary or anything,” Clementine finally says, giving up on explaining. “I just kept waking up.”
“I think.” Clara hums. “You should stop watching Alien before bed.”
“But it's Halloween!”
The next chapter should be out sometime tomorrow night if I can kick my ass into gear and make it happen
Regarding my fics: I will not be taking anything down. I will not stop writing. I will do my best to keep my portrayals of c!techno respectful. Writing has helped me so much with processing through my emotions, and I want to provide comfort and escapism to those of you that may need it. This may change if his family speaks out against it. This is also not me shaming authors who choose to stop writing or take down their works, I understand. Everyone grieves differently.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Happy early birthday to the fic that changed my life. Hope you enjoy!