Cavalry's 'ere, luvs! Widowtracer week, here for all your widowy and tracery goodness :) usually together. This blog will contain NSFW elements. We will endeavor to tag them appropriately, though things may slip through. We apologise in advance. The next Widowtracer event will probably be a Secret Santa
So, we’re obviously a little less active than we’d like. We try to be good at messages, but the reblogging thing is less than stellar. We know it, you know it, the cat probably knows it.
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Amélie let out a huff of frustration as she sat behind the wheel of her car, glad the person on the other end of her phone call couldn’t see the way she rolled her eyes.
“For the last time, Olivia, no.”
Unfortunately, her friend didn’t seem capable of taking a hint. “I don’t even get why you took that job. Why would you want to be in nowheresville?”
She thought of the bouquet she’d left on Gérard’s grave the day before she had left, and Amélie’s fingers tightened on the wheel until her knuckles went white. “You know why.”
“I know why you don’t want to be in that big, empty, drafty house,” Olivia countered. “But that’s exactly why you should be back in town with your friends! You need people.”
“I need money,” Amélie snapped as she threw the Audi into a turn a bit harder than she really should have. “Hence why I took the offer to work. I taught classes, I got paid, and I will go home for a few days and come back after the holiday.”
“You sure?” Olivia’s voice turned a bit sly. “Angela might be at the party…”
Amélie stomped the accelerator to the floor, making the snow covered trees on either side of the road whip past. “An even better reason for me to avoid it.”
“Ooof. So you two didn’t…” Olivia coughed. “Y’know. Work it out?”
“When would we have time to do that?” Amélie didn’t bother hiding the bitterness in her voice. “Her work keeps her busy, and she made it clear it will always come first. It was…she was…a mistake.”
She could almost hear the sad little frown on Olivia’s face. “Hey. Wanting to find someone else isn’t a mistake, Ami. He would want you to be happy.”
Amélie took her frustrations out on a vicious downshift. “Then stop pushing me to go somewhere that I will not be happy.”
Olivia let out a long sigh. “OK, OK, entiendo, amiga.” She paused a second. “Stop by Gabe’s at least? He said he’d love to see you when you get back into town.”
Amélie let out an amused snort as she took another twisting curve. “Liar.”
Olivia chuckled. “OK, yeah. But he could use the company, too.”
Amélie hummed softly as she acknowledged the point. “Perhaps. But the snow is getting worse here - I need to concentrate on the road.” That wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t entirely the truth either.
Still, Olivia seemed to take the hint at last. “I’ll let you go, then. You drive safe - and call me when you get home!”
“Goodbye, Olivia.” Amélie thumbed the button on the wheel to end the call and sighed as she sank back into the embrace of her seat. Getting away for a few days had made her happy and so did driving. Thrashing her little sports car through the twists and turns made her feel more alive than anything else had since…
She tapped the gearshift paddle as she tossed her head. She was trying to distract herself, not dwell on her loss. But instead of a throaty growl and burst of acceleration to take her out of the curve, there was a nasty crunching sound as the car jerked violently, as if she’d caught it on some gigantic hook. Her speed dropped despite the climbing RPMs as she tried to give it some gas, and her nose wrinkled with distaste as she caught a whiff of burnt plastic and hot metal.
“Putain de bordel de merde!”
Amélie reached to turn on her hazard lights as she spat every curse she could think of while she tried to shift again, hoping the transmission would catch and slip back into gear, but there was nothing to be done. Using what momentum she had left to get over to the side of the road, her car finally came to a stop on the snow covered shoulder with the engine still idling but no power reaching the wheels.
“Magnifique,” she groaned as she let her head fall back against the padded material of the headrest, then reached for her phone. She wasn’t even certain where she was, but she had GPS and the number for roadside assistance.
She just hoped there was a tow truck driver working on Christmas Eve.
—
Keeping the car running had helped ward off the cold, but it had still taken several hours for a tow truck to reach her, and by the time the white haired driver had gotten her car loaded onto the bed it was nearly dark.
“Is there a dealership close by?”
The driver - MAKO, according to his nametag - shook his head with a grunt. “Nearest Audi dealer is two hours away, and their service department was closin’ early. Christmas,” he explained. “Think I could get you into Holliday Garage. Next town over.”
Amélie grimaced. “Do they have much experience with Europeans?”
Mako gave a rumbling laugh. “Oh. Yeah.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that, but what choice did she have? “If you are certain they will be open…”
Mako nodded as he threw the truck into gear. “Yup.” For some reason he still seemed quite amused. “She’s open.”
Mako didn’t seem like much of a conversationalist as he drove them into, as it turned out, the small town of Holliday, but Amélie hadn’t been looking to chat.
She ought to call Olivia and let her know, but she was sure that her friend would insist on dropping everything to come get her. Better to let them enjoy their party, and not ruin anyone else’s evening.
The small garage they arrived at had a brightly lit neon sign in the window announcing it was, in fact, still open, and Amélie could see a figure in a welder’s hood and apron at a workbench through the open bay doors, sparks flying up from whatever they were mending.
“Go on inside,” Mako rumbled. “I’ll get your car off the truck and you can warm up.”
Amélie nodded, pulling her wool peacoat a bit tighter before she stepped out into the cold, her boots crunching in the snow as she crossed the parking lot, then opened the door with a jingle of bells.
The warmth of the shop was welcome after her long wait for the tow. Unknotting the scarf she’d been wearing, Amélie undid the buttons of her coat before walking to the counter.
Wide windows looked in on the shop floor, and the figure who she’d seen welding was easier to see now, and she watched as they put down their tools, turned towards the open bay and straightened up in what seemed like surprise at the sight of Mako unloading her car off the truck. Turning to look into the shop, the welder saw her watching and offered a wave, then pulled her hood off to reveal a thick head of spiky dark brown hair, a pleasant looking face with a bit of a pointed chin, and a wide, expressive mouth that went from a surprised ‘O’ to a friendly smile.
Holding up a hand in a “Wait just a second” gesture, the welder (mechanic? Owner? All three?) pulled off her heavy gloves and apron to before walking into the waiting area. “Hullo! Welcome to Holliday Garage!”
Amélie blinked in surprise at the woman’s accent. At least she knew why Mako had seemed so amused when she’d asked if the garage had experience with Europeans. “Ah. Hello…”
The mechanic cocked her head slightly, then laughed at herself. “Oh! Sorry, I’ve gotten used to living in a pretty small town.” She offered a hand with a friendly smile. “Lena Oxton.”
“Amélie,” she answered, shaking the shorter woman’s hand. “Amélie Lacroix.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Amélie Lacroix.” Lena’s grip was firm, with calloused fingers that lingered perhaps a moment longer than absolutely necessary.
Amélie was a bit shocked by the warmth in her touch, but tried to explain it away as her own cold skin and Lena having just finished working with a torch. Still, she found herself wishing the brief contact had lasted another second or two longer as Lena stepped back and pulled a heavy red and black checked flannel off of the coat tree in the corner.
“So, obviously you had a spot of car trouble. Can you tell me what happened, exactly?”
Amélie grimaced as she buttoned her coat back up again. “I was shifting when I suddenly went out of gear. I tried upshifting, with no change, and trying to go down another gear didn’t work either.”
Lena gave a pained ‘ooof’ as she finished shrugging on her flannel. “I’ll be honest - that doesn’t sound good. If you’re lucky it’s just a plug, maybe a connection for the electronics in the gearbox. If not…”
Amélie groaned. She hadn’t wanted to spend the holidays with Olivia or their other friends, but she’d expected to be at home, not stranded in the middle of nowhere. “I will try to hope for the best, then.”
The sun had set completely and the snow was picking up when they went back outside, and the wind stung her face and hands as they walked to where Mako was waiting next to the gleaming black shape of her car, standing out against the parking lot like a polished piece of onyx atop white cloth.
“Oh,” Lena breathed with an almost reverent tone. “That is a lovely TT. Is that a Quattro?”
“Oui.” Amélie smiled despite herself. “It has gotten me into trouble, but when I am behind the wheel I don’t have a care in the world.”
“I can bet.” Lena flashed her a grin, then put her fingers to her lips to whistle. “OI! Mako! Can you help me push it into the bay?”
The big man nodded, and Amélie found herself behind the wheel again, steering as Lena directed until the car was positioned on the previously unoccupied lift.
“Right - go ahead and set the handbrake and then you can hop out.” Lena had started carefully walking around the car, dropping to her hands and knees to examine the undercarriage. “Got a bad feeling already, though…”
Before Lena could explain, Mako cleared his throat. “Got another call. The Song kid was doing donuts in the snow and blew a tire.”
Lena stood and gave a wave. “Go for it. I’ll see what we can figure out here. Thanks for your help, mate.”
Mako gave a grunt and a wave, then plodded back to his truck, flipping on the flashing yellow light bars before driving into the night.
Amélie turned back at the sound of the lift being activated, and watched as her car rose into the air.
“I love the paint,” Lena observed. “Didn’t notice the purple stripe you had added out in the lot - subtle little touch.”
“Thank you.” It had been a bit of an extravagance, really, but she’d enjoyed adding something to make her car that much more special.
Lena had taken her flannel back off and was pulling a set of orange latex gloves onto her hands when a thought seemed to strike her. “Oh. Technically the insurance says no customers on the shop floor, but there’s not likely to be anyone else coming in tonight. You could grab one of the chairs and wait here, if you like.”
Amélie briefly considered the merits of the TV out in the waiting room, but to her surprise the desire for some company won out over the solitude she’d been craving earlier. Dragging the chair over, she draped her coat over the back before settling down. “I did not expect to meet an Englishwoman here.”
Lena’s chuckle came from beneath the car, where she was shining a work light up into the undercarriage. “We’re both a ways from home, aren’t we? Wasn’t really where I planned to end up.”
“May I ask…?”
She could see the light bob as Lena shrugged. “Ex-girlfriend was an actress and wanted to move to the States. Good for her career, she said.” Bitterness seeped into her tone. “Apparently so was sleeping with her producer.”
“Ah.” Amélie looked down at the floor. “I am sorry.”
“Well, it could be worse…heard from a friend about a little town that needed a mechanic, got a loan to buy the shop…” Lena grunted. “Oh, dammit that was not what I was hoping for…”
Amélie winced. “Bad?”
“Not good,” Lena hedged. “Here - push that cart over? I need my socket driver.”
Amélie walked over and brought the tools over as asked, getting a murmur of thanks before Lena swore under her breath again, then went quiet except for the sound of ratcheting.
“Fucking Audi gearboxes…” Lena gave a grunt, then made a satisfied noise. “There we are…” There was another rattle of tools, and Lena leaned over to get a proper look at her. “So what about you? How’d you end up across the pond?”
“My husband was in finance,” Amélie explained after a moment. “His firm offered him a promotion. I decided to come with him rather than stay in France.”
“You say was,” Lena observed as she went back to work. “Things didn’t work out?”
“No…” Amélie bit her lip, her chest suddenly tight. “We had two very good years. Happy years. I made some friends. I had started to work. But…” She trailed off, so lost in her memories that she didn’t even realize Lena had stopped working. “He had been having headaches. He went to the doctor, and…” She made a little gesture. “An ‘aggressive’ cancer. There was nothing to be done.”
“Oh. Shit.” Lena came out from beneath the car. “I’m so sorry.” She swallowed nervously. “Can I ask…how long?”
“Five years,” Amélie said as she looked down at the floor. “Four days ago.”
“God, that’s…” She shook her head. “That’s so hard.” She walked over, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry to have brought it up.”
Amélie reached up to put her hand on Lena’s, appreciating the kindness, then realized Lena was still wearing a glove.
A glove that was now quite covered in grease and oil, which were soaking into her white silk blouse.
“Shit!” Lena snatched back her hand, her face flushing. “Sorry, sorry, fuck!”
Amélie stared at the black handprint in horror for a few seconds, then did the only thing she could: She laughed.
It started in deep in her stomach and burst out of her mouth, the absurdity of this entire evening boiling up and overwhelming her, until she felt tears pricking at her eyes and she was rocking back in the chair, nearly tipping it over.
Lena stared at her with wide eyes, stunned by the sight of her until she finally started giggling herself, joining in before she pulled the gloves off and tossed them into the bin. “Wow. OK…well, I guess that happened.”
“Hah… “ Amélie sniffed, then used the hand that had not gotten smeared with grease to wipe at her eyes. “I…I am sorry. It’s just all…it’s all so ridiculous. My car, this shop, the snow, my shirt…stuck hours from anywhere.” She stood and looked at her hand. “Do you have a sink?”
“Yeah, sorry, over in the corner - got the lava soap and everything.” Lena smiled as she gestured over to the sink. “Anyway - no harm done. Sounds like you needed that, honestly. But…” She sighed as she went back beneath the car. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”
Amélie rolled the sleeves of her blouse up to her elbows after she finished cleaning up. “I suppose I should not have expected anything else.”
When Lena walked back from the car, she held a pan and gasket in her hands. “This is the sump pan for the dual clutch the flappy paddle gearbox uses.” She tilted it so Amélie could see the bottom. “Should be a wet sump - oil to keep the gearing lubricated.”
Amélie looked into the pan, and it was covered with metal shavings, with what looked like a thin scum of burnt oil at the bottom. “That does not look terribly lubricated to me.”
Lena shook her head. “That’s because it’s not.” She set the pan down and lifted up the gasket. “This was your gasket - but it’s cracked. Manufacturing flaw - I’ve seen a few notices. You’ve probably been losing a bit of oil every time you changed gears for the past couple of weeks, and as you lost oil the clutches started to chew themselves up, until it finally lost the gearing entirely today.”
Amélie groaned. “That will not be cheap to replace, then.”
“Afraid not,” Lena admitted glumly. “She’ll need the whole transmission pulled so I can get the gearbox and clutch out and install a replacement.” She put the sump pan down and took the gloves off, tossing them into a wastebin. “Might be able to save you a little dosh if I order a rebuilt gearbox instead of a brand new part, but it’s not like we can run out to the breaker’s yard and find one for you. I’d expect a day to get the part, minimum, and another four or five hours or work - at least - before I can get you back on the road…”
“And tomorrow is Christmas Day.” Amélie looked back. “Even if you placed the order this minute, no one would be there to receive it.”
“Yup.” Lena punched the lift’s control, lowering the car back to the ground. “Got a suitcase in the boot?”
Amélie grimaced as she popped the trunk lid. “Full of dirty clothes. I was on my way home…”
Lena gestured upwards. “My apartment’s upstairs. Got a washer and dryer, service is free.” She looked back at the handprint she’d left on her shoulder, and her cheeks went pink again, making her freckles stand out in contrast. “Least I can do.”
Amélie paused, suitcase in hand. “I…had thought to ask you to just drive me to a hotel. Or perhaps a car rental.”
“Only rental place in town closed hours ago…and with the snow, the motel six is probably full up, too.” Lena bit her lip. “You’d probably need…what, two, three more hours to get home? Then a couple hundred bucks for a rental car, plus driving back here?” She ran her teeth over her lip, and Amélie had to admit it was rather…distracting.
Stop that. She mentioned an ex-girlfriend but that does not mean she is available.
“Anyway,” Lena continued on, oblivious to her thoughts, “I…this is terrible, but I bought one of those ready to warm up Christmas dinners from the market here, and it’s not like I have anyone else to eat it with.”
Oh.
“So,” Lena smiled. “Free food, free laundry, and if you like, I can spend some time tomorrow on the teardown - get everything ready for when the parts do come in.” She looked up, nervous hope in her eyes. “What do you think?”
Amélie considered it, then reached out to shut the trunk. “With such a generous offer, how could I refuse?”
i know you said you wanted something angsty, but then i read your ficlet moon and decided to adapt it somewhat! hopefully this is is bittersweet enough! i hope you like it and happy holidays!
Every day the woman came in, at ten in the morning. Sharp.
Lena looked forward to it, to the teasing of her coworkers and irritation of her manager.
The coworkers around her age merely laughed about it, an in-joke in their cramped work space. Always making sure to make sure Lena was on register whenever the woman showed up. Even if only to give her a second of happiness.
Her manager Jack on the other hand had nothing to say but “get back to work.”
It seemed like every single day the odd woman had a different outfit on, her closet must be simply endless. Whatever it is this woman does, it has to be very, very lucrative. Not to mention every pieces was as elegant, unique and striking as her.
And all that was quite a feat considering the woman was completely blue from head to toe.
Of course, nobody had any idea why she was like that.
In fact, the woman was a mystery beyond the barest facts that Lena had managed to lowkey squeeze out of her. Her name is Amélie and she seemed to work in dance or possibly theatre. Lena knew that there was a theatre nearby but had purposefully restrained from looking it up. Didn’t need to become a stalker.
But Lena wanted nothing more than to know the woman better but what could she do? She was at work. It’s not like she can say ‘bugger the line, it’s flirting time.’ She had, at the very best, a minute of time wherein she could impress the woman before handing her her drink and ending the transaction.
Her coworkers endeavored to help their perky friend but to extremely limited success, which is to say, absolutely no success.
Angela suggested asking her out directly after giving her her order.
Jack said he’d fire Lena for that.
Fareeha had suggested with a confident smirk that Lena should write her number on the woman’s cup.
Jack said he’d fire Lena for that and dock Fareeha’s pay for giving her the idea.
Hana suggested she just lean over the counter and give her a smooch on the cheek.
Jack said he’d fire Lena, Hana and Angela for good measure if that happened, causing the last to squeak out an offended objection to her unrelated looping in.
Either way the man took a hard stance on flirting with customers. Soon after Jack went into the back to deal with some paper work though, leaving Lena to sigh and look up at the clock forlornly. It was almost time for the woman to show up, as always, and she was not even a lick closer to having a plan.
Well, there were plans but only with fireable offenses and if she got fired where would this all be? In the trash can considering she’d never see the woman again. Unless she became a weirdo that just happens to show up.
Straightening herself up, Lena tried to fix her hair the best she could in the reflection in the coffee maker.
Sighing, it remained the shapeless mass it always was. Adamant that it wasn’t going to cooperate with her efforts to tame it. Never did get the hang of that.
Lena supposed, or rather hoped, she didn’t look too horrible as her big brown eyes grabbed ahold of the odd blue woman slowly traipsing pass their wide windows to the door. As always, she looked stunning.
Long, dark blue hair twisted up in a high ponytail with pearls- probably real- weaved into it. Elegant, almost Victorian dress coming to her knees as it blew gently in the breeze. A vision of black velvet and lace. Probably custom made. A pearl necklace gracing her neck the cherry on top of the cake.
But this time, Lena realized another person was with her. The woman in purple whose name she always forgot, admittedly because she was paying too much attention to Amélie.
Perfectly manicured nails wrapped around the door’s bar and pulled it open with a soft jingle from the bell above.
Lena ignored the jab in her side and the quick little eyebrow wiggle from Fareeha as the woman approached the counter.
“Welcome to Kofi Aromo! What can I get you?”
- - -
Amélie was a creature of habit, to a nearly alarming degree.
Every day she’d wake up, eat, get dressed, go to work at Talon Theatre, go to the same coffee shop, go back to work, go home, eat, then go to bed.
Her daily motions were almost robotic in nature, a frequent joke among her coworkers.
Especially one in particular. Sombra.
Now, the woman had come along with her to the coffee shop a few times. While it wasn’t nearly as frequent as Amélie’s visits the woman wouldn’t object to an overly sugary coffee now and again. More of a sweet than a coffee but Amélie wasn’t here to judge.
Except for the parts where she absolutely judges and made a slight, jabbing note of it each and every time. But she felt fairly justified in this considering Sombra’s delighted mockery of Amélie and the coffee shop girl.
The first time her coworker had insisted on coming with, Sombra had caught every detail of the small woman’s flustered exchange with a bright eyed Amélie and she was frankly delighted.
Ever since then, Amélie has never heard the end of the teasing.
Today was no different except, perhaps, even more intense than usual.
For whatever reason, Sombra had gotten it in her head lately that Amélie actually had to DO something about this crush. Despite her coworkers protests against it.
Leaning over a set piece, putting the usually shorter woman on eye level with her, Sombra teased, “Hey, I’m coming with you today. Gonna make it happen myself and you can’t stop me.”
“No, you’re not,” Amélie flatly replied, not even looking up from the clipboard in her hand.
“Last time I checked you ain’t the boss of me,” Sombra sang, “Gabe is the boss of me. Or Akande. Or Moira. Well, pretty much everyone but you.”
“They like me more, don’t test me,” Amélie said, setting the board on the desk to pull her coat around her, “Do not follow me.”
“Ohhh, you know I am,” Sombra said with a smirk as she slid off the set piece and started bouncing after her.
It was a fairly short walk from Talon Theatre to that particular Kofi Aromo even though the Theatre lay far away from the main roads, coiled in between small office buildings. It had been Amélie’s original thinking in picking that one.
When they walked in, the girl was as she always was. Standing at the counter, greeting them cheerfully.
Sombra left Amélie to that as she quietly skulked over to the other side of the counter, just out of the two women’s sight. Reaching out, she managed to grab the second barista’s sleeve and stop her in her tracks. Leaning over, Sombra took a glance at the nametag. Fareeha.
“Hey, you got a sec?” Sombra crooned, mischievous smile on her face.
Reasonably, Fareeha looked a little weirded out but replied politely nonetheless, “What can I help you with?”
“Can you get pixie pants over there to take her break? While my friend’s still here?” Sombra asked, voice sappily sweet as she batted her eyelashes. Jerking her head towards Lena for effect as the woman finished taking Amélie’s order.
While Fareeha appeared unshaken by this she seemed to be on the same page as Sombra nonetheless. Nodding curtly before walking over and tapping Lena on the shoulder, “Hey, Jack said you had to take a break today, your shift’s almost over.”
Lena started at that, “Ohhh! I forgot! Explains why I’m so hungry!”
Fareeha fished the chicken salad sandwich she knew Lena loved out from the counter and handed it to her, “Why don’t you take your lunch and eat it out front today?”
“Why would I-” Lena started before being shoved towards the exit, Fareeha flipping up the removable countertop and shoving her through.
Stumbling, Lena found herself being apprehended again on the other side. Looking over, she saw Amélie’s friend grinning at her, “Heyyy, pixie pants. You’re gonna have lunch with us.”
A confused and slightly alarmed glance to Fareeha acquired her no help as Sombra dragged her towards an equally confused and slightly alarmed Amélie. With a small yelp, Lena was tossed onto one of the many cushy armchairs that littered the floor with her wrapped up sandwich still gripped in her hands.
Abruptly, Sombra spun around and started walking towards the exit again with a cheery, “Hey, uh, just remembered that I fucking hate coffee and love cheeseburgers so if you need me I’ll be at McDonald’s.”
At that, Lena and Amélie were alone.
For a cold and frozen minute both of them just sat there and stared dumbly at each other.
Eventually it was Lena who broke the ice, “Is, uh, is your friend always like that?”
“Unfortunately,” Amélie sighed, resigning herself to this entrapment, “She never knows when to leave well enough alone.”
“Sooo, uh, you work in the nearby theatre right?” Lena said before quickly following it up with, “I’ve overheard you talking about it with that woman before, right?”
“Yes, Talon Theatre,” Amélie nodded, “She works there as well. Also unfortunately.”
Lena giggled at that, “Is she truly all that bad?”
Amélie was quiet for a second to sip her coffee before sighing, “I suppose not. Just… frustrating.”
“So, uhm, you… come in here a lot,” Lena said, awkwardly rubbing at the back of her neck, “You must really like coffee.”
“It keeps me awake,” Amélie shrugged.
Lena looked over to Fareeha for support but only found the woman trying not to make eye contact as she spied on them from behind a menu.
“So… got any cool plays you’re working on over there?” Lena asked with an awkward smile.
“We are doing a production of Faust soon,” Amélie nodded, “I am to be in it as a dancer as well as assisting with most of the choreography and stage direction.”
“That sound really neat!” Lena chirped, fiddling with the still unopened sandwich, “When I was a little girl I always wanted to be an actor but when I got older I kinda lost interest. Right now I’m in college to become a pilot.”
“Is that your passion now?” Amélie asked.
“Very much so,” Lena nodded, “Back in high school my interests changed. The second I saw that airshow I was hooked, wanted nothing more than to soar through the skies like them. Is theatre your passion?”
“Dancing, more so,” Amélie replied, “But I do not mind doing the other parts so long as I can still dance at some point.”
“I bet you’re a great dancer,” Lena beamed, trying to make the best of an awkward situation.
“I am,” replied Amélie with such confidence it almost made Lena giggle, “I’ve been doing it since I was such a little girl.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re very impressive at it,” Lena said, “I mean, even just walking around you’re-”
Lena cut herself off as she dropped her still wrapped sandwich to slap her hands over her mouth, face bright red. For a second, it seemed to have flown over Amélie’s mind. But only a second. When it hit her what Lena had been saying the smallest, barely there-est smile snuck onto her face.
Lena immediately moved to apologize, “I’m so so so sorry, I just-”
“I never use my guest tickets to my shows,” Amélie interrupted, taking a final sip of her coffee before setting the empty cup in front of her, “Perhaps you can have one. Maybe more. In the future.”
Before Lena could really answer, Amélie stood up and reached into her bag before pulling out a small strip of paper and handing it to Lena who looked at it dumbly. It read for a production of Faust, next week on Friday.
Lena nodded dumbly, “I’d… I’d love to.”
“I’ll see you then,” Amélie said with a smile as she turned to leave, “Although I suppose I’ll see you before then, no? I do come in on all my breaks after all. Maybe yours can be at the same time sometimes as well?”
Lena chirped up, “I- uh, I can definitely move my break time later!”
“I look forward to it then,” Amélie said with a much wider smile than you usually see from her, “But for right now… perhaps you should finish your lunch?”
Looking down at the long forgotten sandwich Lena stuttered out, “Y-yeah! See you tomorrow!”
“Au revoir,” Amélie nodded, letting the door slam behind her.
Perhaps her lunch breaks would be a little more enjoyable from now on.
The house was nothing much to look at from the outside, that was the point of it, it wasn’t supposed to attract attention, but Lena couldn’t help but gaze wistfully at the houses either side that were fully decked out for Christmas. There were moments when she wished that she had that, that they could have that, but that time, if it was ever going to come was a long way off and she shook herself, brushing off the moment of melancholy before heading up the garden path. She fought the urge to glance around, knowing that she had to look perfectly at ease as she slid the key out of her pocket and opened the front door, slipping inside and firmly closing it behind her.
The hallway was dark, which meant that she was the first to arrive, and she hastily quashed the flicker of doubt that came with that realisation. It wasn’t rare for Lena to be the first to arrive, but it had been a long time since they had managed to arrange a time like this, and she had been quivering with nervous energy for days ever since the message had come to her through the encoded channel that Sombra had set up for them, and it was rising to a peak with the promise of seeing Amélie. She will be here, she told herself sternly as she flipped on the hallway light, before shouldering her bag and heading for the stairs and the room at the top of them.
The bedroom was just as she remembered, and she couldn’t help but smile as she ran a hand over the covers. The room was cleaner than she expected, and she had a feeling it was another thing they needed to thank Sombra for, frowning at that thought. She didn’t like relying on the hacker, but there was no other choice in the situation. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on that thought and she got to work unpacking her bag, not that there was much, as they only two days at most before someone would come looking for them. Still, for a moment she could pretend that this was real, that they had longer as she folded her clothes and set them in the drawers, leaving room for Amélie’s things. It made it feel a little bit more like a home, a little more like it belonged to them. Amélie would say that she was getting sentimental again, but she didn’t care.
Needing to keep busy until Amélie arrived she headed downstairs to check out the kitchen and what supplies they had left, vaguely thinking that she could make something to reheat later. She certainly wasn’t letting her girlfriend cook after the fiasco last time, which had lead to a ruined pan and smoky kitchen, and a very irritable Amélie as they had stood over the burnt-out dish. It amused Lena, that she was the better cook of the two, especially as whenever it was her turn to cook at the Watchpoint she went for the simplest things possible. Cooking took time, and she liked to be on the move. It was a moot point she realised when she searched the kitchen and found nothing but an old box of cereal and several tins in the cupboard, they would need to restock at some point, and maybe for this visit she could convince her girlfriend to indulge in some takeaway. Unfortunately, that also left her with nothing to do to distract herself with for the time being.
*
She had eventually settled in a chair having discovered one of Amélie’s abandoned books in the bathroom, and was already a couple of chapters in when she heard movement, not at the front door like there should have been, but at the bedroom window. Rolling her eyes, more fond than exasperated, she lowered the book and lifted her head just in time to see the shadow that dropped down in front of the window, and her lips quirked up at the familiar silhouette. It was hard not to bolt out of her chair to let her in, it had really been too long, but instead she carefully marked her page and rose to her feet, slowly and deliberately moving across to the window.
Amber eyes tracked each step that she took, and she was close enough now to see the frustration building, and she finally took mercy on Amélie, reaching for the window and unlatching, stepping aside to let Amélie swing inside. “You do know most people use the front door?” Lena asked with a laugh, closing the window behind Amélie.
“Eyes tend to be watching the front door…”
There was an awkward moment of silence, the time that had passed and the battles that had filled that gap standing between them like invisible ghosts. Lena took the time to study Amélie, taking in the deliberately blank expression and empty eyes, the mask that she wore at all times and that always made her heart ache. Because she knew how much lay beneath the mask, the depth of emotion that not even Talon had managed to drive out and she hated seeing it hidden away, even though it knew that it was the only way for Amélie to survive. Still, it wasn’t needed here, and she stepped forward, keeping each movement slow and deliberate as she reached up for her girlfriend’s face, cupping her cheeks and tenderly stroking them. “You’re home, you’re safe.”
Lena could see the hesitation, the reluctance to shed her defences, but Amélie had never been able to hold out against her, even when they had merely been Tracer and Widowmaker, and slowly, cautiously she leant into Lena’s touch as the tension melted out of her. “Yes, I’m home…” The blankness was melting away now, the amber turning warmer, more human as she let the mask drop away, her hands coming up to rest on top of Lena’s. “It’s been too long,” she murmured, closing the distance between them and Lena willingly met her halfway, the kiss chaste after so long apart. Soft, and growing softer as they moved closer, fitting together as one, hands falling and twisting together between them, both needing the contact after so long.
“You got away okay?” Lena asked when they finally broke apart, fingers remaining entwined as she stared up at Amélie, daring her to lie.
“Yes, Cherie,” Amélie murmured, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “You?”
“I’m good,” Lena caught the hint of concern behind the question, and she smiled, touched. They both knew that consequences wouldn’t be good for either of them if they were discovered, but Lena was safer, and it was a reminder of how far they had come for Amélie to be worrying about her. “At least for a couple of days,” she amended. It had taken a lot of begging and bartering to make Winston promise not to call her for at least two days, no matter how dire the situation, but after that all bets were off, especially as things had been heating up between Talon and Overwatch over the last few months. In the past two days would have been more than enough, but now… now it wasn’t enough, not anymore.
She wanted more.
It had been so easy when this had first started. Back then they had been Tracer and Widowmaker, and it had been them desperately trying to deal with the tension between them, limited to short, heated meetings during missions. They had thought that would be the end of it. It hadn’t, and gradually those hasty, gratuitous meetings had become more frequent and less accidental, and at some point, between heated kisses and feverish touches, Tracer had become Oxten and Widowmaker had become Lacroix. It had been longer still before they started sneaking away, usually one hotel room and then another, never under their own names, and at some point, as they basked in the aftermath, curled up and fitting together in a way that they shouldn’t be able to and between tender caresses and light kisses, they had become Lena and Amélie.
Amélie had been the one to break first, whispering Lena into a desperate, feverish kiss after a mission where they had nearly been forced to kill each other, clutching the smaller woman against her. They hadn’t said the ‘l’ word, but it had been there in the fingers roaming over their skin, lingering on every scratch and bruise the fight had left, and in the desperate, needy kisses, as they sought reassurance they had both survived.
It had been after that they had invested in this tiny house, a place that was purely there’s even if they rarely got to visit. That hadn’t been the point though, it had been a promise. A promise that the thing between them wasn’t some fleeting fever dream, but something permanent and true, and whilst the war continued, and they played their parts on different sides, this house was there sanctuary. Here there was no Overwatch. No Talon. No Tracer. No Widowmaker. There was only Lena and Amélie, and the unspoken ‘l’ word.
That had always been enough, or maybe that was just what she had told herself, wanting to ignore the emptiness that came when they had to part ways. The pain that came when they faced each other in the field, the weight of the knowledge that one of her bullets could one day be the one to take Amélie out, the fear of what might happen when it all unravelled. Now though, with Amélie’s fingers twined with hers, amber eyes glittering with the emotions she would never show around others she found herself wishing fiercely that they could have more.
They had talked about it, always in whispers, fearful that hearing it spoken aloud would take it further from their reach. But they had dreamt of a life without the war, without sides, where they could retreat to this house and always be Lena and Amélie. Where they could say ‘I love you’ without fear, where…
“Still dreaming, Cherie?” Amélie pulled her gently from her thoughts, lifting both hands, and pressing a kiss to the back of one and then the other, a soft, knowing look on her face. Lena met her gaze, seeing the same hopes, the same dreams and fears, only Amélie would never put them into words, not unless they were coiled together, the words lost as she whispered them against her skin. That was okay, Lena didn’t need the words…but Amélie did, she needed to hear them, to know that there could be a life for them beyond this, to know that Lena’s feelings hadn’t changed even after everything she had done. Lena smiled, holding Amélie’s gaze as she rose on her tiptoes to kiss her, just the faintest meeting of their lips, breath mingling as she pulled back just enough to murmur.
“Always.”
I’ll keep dreaming, until the day it becomes reality.
secret santa for @overlookingtheworld
(hey ! i really really hope you’ll like it, i tried to follow your wishlist the best i could, so i hope it didnt get too explicit. anyway, i hope that you enjoy it and that you’ll spend a beautiful christmas eve/day, also i’m sorry if there are any mistakes english isnt my first language. merry christmas !)
Her feet were barely touching the ground as she zipped through the night, panting, leaving nothing but a blue trail behind her. Blood was dripping down her chin, she brushed the back of her hand against her cheek as she turned around, making sure he wasn’t following her. “Fuck”, she tripped, landing on the thick layer of snow covering the streets in this cold December night.
She knew she should’ve stayed home, she knew it, and still. Somehow she’d thought it was a good idea. After all, it was Christmas Eve, they wouldn’t expect her there. She’d planned everything : all she had to do is to find a way into Talon’s lair, sneak into Sombra’s quarters and look for any kind of information she could gather without alerting the hacker. Well, the last part was probably the trickiest one but she figured since they wouldn’t be here anyway, it would give her some time to find a way to get at least something. And maybe she could even take a look at their quarters, that’d be enough information already. All she had to do was to be careful, and avoid their cameras and sensors, but she already had an idea of their whereabouts, so she wasn’t that worried about getting caught. Plus, it’s not like she had better stuff to do tonight.
She loved everything about Christmas : the pine tree filling the living room with its very distinct smell, the lights and baubles hanging down its branches, the whole town being slowly covered in snow, the music, the food, everything. But mostly, she loved how it could bring so many people together. As if life had been paused. And god knew she needed it, more than anyone else - breakdown after breakdown, she felt like nothing could prevent her from falling apart once again, if it wasn’t for Christmas. They had everything planned out, they’d spend the evening together at their quarters, Angela and Fareeha would cook for them, and she’d decorate the tree with Hana and Lucio. Then they’d sit in the living room and open their presents, celebrate together, enjoy this one night where they could simply rest, without having to worry about tomorrow.
And maybe she could even sneak out for a moment, just to meet with her. Nobody would notice. They’d have just this moment together.
She didnt ask for much, and still, even this one night she couldnt have.
Talon attacked their headquarters a few days ago, and they werent ready to withstand another push. They didnt last long, and although Talon didnt manage to pass through their forces, they managed to damage them deeply enough for them to draw back. Many had been injured and, obviously, Christmas Eve had been cancelled, most of them needing more than a few days of rest to get back on feet.
Yet, Lena hadn’t been touched a single time. How come ? Just to think about it made her hate herself even more, and that was probably the reason why she decided to invade Talon’s lair, all on her own, on December 24th. That day, something had kept her from fighting alongside her friends, and that something was the reason why they lost.
Her hands were buried in the snow, she was sitting there, on the ground, staring at the bloody stains she left after falling. All she could see was a pair of eyes, golden, piercing through the night, through her mind, she shook her head. She couldnt let her distract her again.
Sneaking into their headquarters wasnt easy, but it wasn’t something Lena “Tracer” Oxton couldn’t do. Once she had found her way into what seemed to be Sombra’s quarters, she’d started looking around for whatever she could find that’d help her and her friends put an end to Talon, once and for all. Obviously, she didnt find anything, which she should’ve expected, knowing the hacker. It was hard for her to admit that the sole reason of her presence here tonight was the fact that she felt guilty for what happened to her team, and she somehow thought that coming to this place and trying to take down the whole Talon organization on her own would be a good idea, and maybe it would work.
But god knows it was the stupidest idea she’d ever had.
She realized that the moment she heard his voice. “You’re gonna regret this.” She turned around, seeing nothing but a tall shadow standing in the doorway, and before the thought of running away hit her mind, he pulled his shotguns out and shot her in the shoulder.
And thats how she ended up here, lying on the cold ground, panting, tears slowly streaming down her face as she was trying to recollect herself. She never should’ve gone there on her own, she didnt even know what she was expecting from this. When her friends will learn what she tried to do tonight, they’ll most definitely be the ones to kill her, if Gabriel didn’t already finish the job until then. Thats why she stood up, stumbling around for a second before she started to run again, until she got a sight of the right building, which made her let out a relieved sigh. She slowed down, knowing he wouldn’t have followed her that far anyway, and she entered the building, climbing the stairs until she got to the 6th floor. Lena opened the door, a mixture of sweat, blood and melted snow dripping down her face as she entered her apartment. She took a second to close the door, locking it, before she let herself fall against the dark wood, slowly gliding to the ground, grunting from the pain.
“Qu’est ce que-…”
Lena jumped, flicking her head in the direction of the voice. She was there. Standing in front of the patio door, her long, dark hair framing the face she was so scared to see again. She was used to those golden eyes, piercing through her every single time she looked at her - this time, it was different. There was nothing piercing to her gaze, actually, it almost showed something like… concern.
“Chérie what happened to you ?” It looked like she didnt dare to move.
“Fuck off… I dont want you here.” she mumbled, lowering her glance, knowing that those golden eyes would make her change her mind if they just as much as stared at her the right way. Silence filled the room, heavy on her shoulders.
“Those are some very rude words coming out of such a sweet mouth.” She barely heard her approaching, Amélie was just like a cat ; she moved gracefully, her footsteps were light on the wooden ground, her tall silhouette was ripping through the banality of her corridor.
“Please, just- just get out, alright ? I’m not in the mood to play.” she sighed, grimacing as she tried to stand up. She could feel her heart race both in her chest and her open shoulder, it almost hurt, and she could feel how the world around her started to get dizzy.
“Je ne suis pas là pour jouer ce soir, chérie” she heard, before her vision started to become blurry, her eyes slowly shutting down, and her head hitting the door once again. The last thing she saw was the silhouette she loved so much growing closer to her, kneeling down next to her bruised self, and only her eyes were glowing that night.
////////
Amélie and her had this little… game, they loved to play. Nobody knew about it, and nobody would ever know about it, for it was their little secret. Something they shared for quite a while now, and although it was so wrong for them to do that, it was one of the very few moments were everything just… felt right. Talon’s elite sniper was also Talon’s eyes, going from town to town, watching them, following them, when they think nothing can get to them. She spent enough time watching every Overwatch agent, one after the other, through their every day life, and mostly, following them to their places, taking notes of everything that could be important and help them to bring this sickening organization down, once and for all. She did it with Angela, Lucio, Hana, 76, even Reinhardt (it was probably one of the most boring moments in her life, the old man just sat down on his couch and watched those stupid games only elderly people watched on their TV, and most of the time he’d just fall asleep during the first ad break). Then, she started watching Lena. Something about her pattern intrigued the french agent, every day was different, unlike everyone else, she couldnt put a finger on her habits, for she didnt have any. At least, that was what she thought. In reality, Lena had noticed from the very beginning that she was being watched, and used the Widow’s confidence to get around her and find her hiding spots. Until one day, where she confronted her. They fought, and fought, and fought, yet, bullets barely touched their moving bodies, as if they were dancing past each other. And then, it became an habit. Their meetings, their fights. Somehow, both of them needed that, as if they were enjoying every second of it, which they were. None of them knew exactly what brought them together, maybe they were just clinging onto old memories, maybe they were trying to forget them, but still, they met, every other night, on that same roof top, and fought. Some people get to know each other over some coffee, and them ? They fought, danced through the night, and left each other with the biggest smile spread onto their faces. One day, though, a too-well placed shot hit Lena right in the leg, leaving her vulnerable to the enemy sniper. She knew it was just a matter of time before she’d take advantage of the situation to get rid of one of Overwatch’s most efficient troublemaker. After all, the Amélie she once knew was no longer here, replaced by this emotionless silhouette she couldn’t help but admire. Her cold gaze was piercing right through her as she saw her raise the murderous weapon, scope in, Lena closed her eyes and thought to herself, maybe she’ll wake up, maybe none of this ever happened and she was still fighting the demons inside her head, pushing her to think that somewhere inside the Widow’s body, there was still a heart. She heard the shot, her ears were buzzing loudly and she collapsed, pain taking over her body, or at least that was what she thought. As she opened her eyes, she saw her come closer, holding out her hand.
To this day she still didnt know why Amélie didnt kill her, why she decided to save her instead, bringing her back to her place and taking care of the wound she had left on her leg. After that, she came by every other day, after midnight, to check on her ; changing her bandaid, bringing her some food, taking care of her, everything the old Amélie would do. Lena did all the talking, trying to find out what she was doing here, why she didnt shoot, what pushed her to do the right thing, but she never got any answer out of the woman, instead, she’d just nod, and say a few words in french Lena didnt manage to grasp. After her condition improved, Amélie’s visits slowly decreased in number, but she still passed by once in a while, just to listen to the girl while she talked about her day. Somehow, with everything that had happened between them, Lena felt like she could trust her. After all, she could’ve killed her that day, and still, she didnt. She wouldnt call it a bond, or maybe she did - there was definitely something odd about them but she figured, as long as it went like this, she‘d enjoy every single moment.
On the battlefield, she usually heard a distinct shot, which wouldn’t touch anybody - instead, it was like a signal, and she took advantage of the mess created by the fight to sneak around the enemy frontlines, to find her way to the snipers spot. Nobody knew about the little game both of them liked to play, they teased each other without giving too much of themselves away, and it was fine like that. It lasted a while, until a few days ago ; they were on their rooftop, again, Lena was sitting on the very edge of the building, staring at the orange sky, and the sun disappearing behind the stone jungle in front of her. Amélie was resting against the wall, behind her. They did this a lot, they didnt talk, they just stared at the sky, and it was already enough. “I’ll never get tired of this, y’know” she whispered. At this exact moment, Overwatch’s headquarters were being attacked by Talon’s members, and Lena wasn’t there to defend it.
It was the last time they saw each other ever since.
////////
“Chérie, tu devrais faire plus attention à toi” was the first thing she heard when she woke up. She felt the soft mattress of her bed under her body, and even softer fingers brushing against her forehead, making her shiver. Her skull still hurt, and so did her shoulder, but she noticed how she couldnt move that well, and felt the bandages on her skin. Frowning, she opened her eyes, meeting with this golden gaze she feared so much. If she didnt know any better, she’d probably think it was concern that shined in her eyes.
“What are you still doing here ? I told you to leave.” she mumbled, trying to sit up but her entire body started to scream at her in pain, and Amélie softly pushed her back into the many pillows displayed on her bed.
“What were you thinking ?” there wasn’t a hint of anger in her voice, instead, it felt like she was genuinely concerned.
“I dont know. I had to do something.” Lena sighed, closing her eyes again, not wanting to get another glance of the Widow’s face.
“No you didn’t. You were just being stupid.” She had always loved the accent she had when she was speaking, it made every word sound much softer, which made her even more dangerous than she already was. But this time, it was different.
“I know what you’re thinking, Lena. You wouldn’t have made a difference, believe me.”
She opened her eyes again, shaken by the sudden anger that filled her mind after those words hit her ears.
“Are you fucking kidding me ?! What is wrong with you ? Of course i would’ve made a difference, we lost because of me !”
Amélie shook her head, leaning back, her hands resting on her lap.
“You are being stupid, ma chérie. Don’t underestimate Talon, they would’ve hurt you if you’d been there. You should thank me.”
Suddenly, silence filled the room. It felt like it lasted an eternity, before she finally gathered the strength to sit up, grimacing from the pain, before she looked her straight in the eyes.
“You knew. You knew, didn’t you ?”
Again, silence. They stared at each other, both of them were waiting for the other to break the silence.
She finally nodded.
“You… Why did you do that ? I… I could’ve been there, i could’ve helped them..!” Slowly the realization hit her, she didnt know if it was the pain, or the fact that she had been tricked by the one person she really trusted, but tears started to stream down her face, dripping down her chin, wetting her sheets.
“It is not what it looks like. You don’t understand.”
Lena shook her head, brushing her hands against her cheeks.
“Then what is it ?! What is it, tell me !”
Another silence.
“TELL ME!”
Amélie stood up, without a word, and left the room, closing the bedroom door behind her.
She couldnt believe it.
“I trusted you !” she tried to shout, but her voice barely filled the room, and she was left there, wondering. How stupid could she be ? Seconds passed, it felt like hours, she stayed there, sitting on her bed, her mind suddenly as empty as her bedroom, she barely reacted when the door opened again. Amélie walked in, holding the door open.
“Please. Just come.”
She knew she shouldn’t follow her, she knew she shouldn’t trust her, but her bruised body still managed to get out of bed, slowly walking forward, using the wall as a support. The tall woman reached out and grabbed her hand, helping her as much as she could, gently holding her so she wouldn’t lose her balance. As she walked into the living room, Lena’s eyes started watering. She didnt recognize her apartment anymore ; next to the tv was a small pine tree, bloody red baubles hanging down its branches, decorated with tinsels and little light bubbles. She could barely hear the soft music in the background, there was a box sitting on the small table in front of the couch, wrapped in a beautiful red paper, snowflakes shining on it. She just stood there, in awe, unable to say anything.
“Come.” she heard, and Amélie pulled on her hand, bringing her to the couch, making her sit down before taking a place next to her. Her cold hands were still wrapped around hers, and she was glancing at her someway she never did before.
“Yes, i knew. I didn’t want you to get hurt so i kept you with me.“
Before she managed to say something, Amélie continued.
“I know this… Christmas party was important to you. I’m sorry.” She knew she wasn’t really sorry about what happened to her friends, after all, they had always been enemies, she probably celebrated their victory later on that day. But still, something about her was so different tonight, she couldn’t help but think that all of this was sincere.
“You have every right to be mad at me. I understand. But keep in mind that i did it to protect you.”
She finally gathered the courage to answer.
“Why would you even do that ?”
Amélie stared at her for what felt like an eternity, before she grew closer to the girl, her grip slightly tightening on her hands as their lips met in what seemed to be the most cruel, and beautiful kiss she could ever dream of. She hated how much she enjoyed it, how every inch of anger had immediately been replaced by nothing but this soothing feeling tightening her chest. Her cheeks were burning as their lips finally parted, she tried to remain calm but her heavy breath betrayed her.
“You can’t do that…” she whispered, but Amélie’s fingers met with her cheeks, brushing softly against her skin before she slowly pulled her back into another kiss, much softer this time. As they parted again, Lena tried to say something but she cut her off.
“S’il te plait. Fais moi confiance.”
She didn’t know what she just said, but she suddenly stopped caring, and as leaned forward to kiss her again, it was almost as if she couldn’t feel the pain in her shoulder anymore, as if she finally found the bandaid she needed.
“Let me make it up to you.” she felt her cold breath against her lips as she spoke, hypnotized, she tried to be mad but she wasn’t, she couldn’t. Instead, she felt how her heart was racing inside her chest, almost as if it was trying to free itself from its ribcage, trying to meet with hers. She nodded, leaning into another kiss, before Amélie pulled back, wearing a very subtle smile.
“Here.”
Lena frowned, reaching for the gift she was handing her, wondering.
“I… I dont know, wh-“
“Just open it.”
She waited a second, hesitating, before carefully ripping the paper off, revealing a simple white box. She opened it, and her eyes started watering again.
“You…”
////////
She remembered it. It was years ago, they were sitting there, at a table inside of Gérard’s little castle, Amélie was looking through some magazines while talking to Lena about french fashion. “We french ladies know how to dress. We have the best ‘couturiers’ in the world, believe me.” They used to hang out a lot, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. She loved spending time with Amélie, simply hearing her brag about french fashion was enough to make her happy. She leaned over to look at the magazine she was holding, suddenly shouting. “Oh my god !” She pointed at a jacket, aviator style, made of brown leather and wool, eyes shining in excitement. “That’s the jacket I’ve always wanted !” Amélie just laughed. “See ? French fashion is the best. Maybe you’ll get it for Christmas, who knows ?”
A few months later, Amélie shot her husband right in the head.
They never made it to Christmas.
////////
She took the jacket out of the box, her fingers gliding across the soft leather. She remembered.
This is just a friendly reminder that your Secret Santa presents are now due asap. Please don’t forget to tell us who they’re for, either! We’ve had at least one person submit with no indication who their present should be given to. And, because it’s anonymous, we don’t know who it’s from, either!
So, as we said in the original post, the gifts have to be submitted by December 17 at the latest.
In order to submit, you need to be logged out (or have the window opened in an incognito window) and on our submissions page. If you don’t log out, your name will show up, which defeats the purpose of a secret santa. We have no problem if you share after the fact, but for the sake of this event, we ask that you keep mum about it.
Additionally, if you run into any issues that will mean you cannot submit by December 17, tell us. The reason we have made it due a week before Christmas is because of any potential hiccups that may occur.
If you have any other questions, don’t hesitate to contact us!
By now, all participants should have received their secret santa names. The next step is for everyone to create their wishlist as soon as possible, if you haven’t already done so! Once you have it ready, be sure to tag it ‘widowtracer secret santa’ or alert us so we can find it easily and add it to the list below for easy access.
Remember, we’d like all gifts to be submitted by December 17, so the sooner everyone can get started on their projects, the better!
Thank you to everyone! Good luck, and happy creating!
Submissions are now closed for the 2017 Secret Santa! For those who have elected to take part, we ask now that you put together a little wishlist of what you would like or not like to see. Once you’ve done that, if you just want to tag it as ‘secret santa’ we’ll pop them all together in a masterpost so your gift-giver can find it with ease. We are hoping to be able to let people know who their Secret Santa is by the end of the weekend so they have plenty of time to prepare a gift.
Additionally, if you sent an ask wishing to participate but did not get a confirmation message from us, we just ask that you send it again. Tumblr does sometimes eat things.
If you have any questions or queries, please don’t hesitate to ask!
Hi everyone! So, we’ve never put on a secret santa for this fandom before, but seeing as we did the widowtracer week earlier in the year and it was reasonably successful, we thought we’d try this own, too :)
For those who don’t know what a secret santa is, or have never participated in one before, it’s basically an event wherein those participating are given a single name, at random, of another person participating. They must go ahead and create something – a gift – for that person. The idea is that the person never realises who gave it to them. Of course, you can tell them afterwards, if you want, but sometimes a secret surprise is nice.
This year, we’re hoping for all gifts to be submitted by December 17. This is a Sunday and gives us a little over a week to chase up gifts that haven’t been submitted. If you sign up and then realise you cannot create your gift, please tell use as soon as possible. We won’t be upset, but we will get angry if you just disappear forever without giving a gift. If you are unable to participate, we will have to contact your gift-giver so they can gift to someone else. It isn’t very fair if you don’t give a gift but you get something amazing, after all.
How to join:
Same as last year, for those who participated. Just send us an ask, letting us know that you want to participate. We will be accepting participation prompts up until November 8. This gives you two weeks to decide whether you want to participate or not. After that, they will be closed so we have time to organise the givers and receivers, and so they have time to create their gift. The names will be randomly drawn; we have no say in who gets whom.
Now, once you’ve asked to join, one of our members will get back to you, letting you know that we’ve received your ask (just because Tumblr has a bad habit of eating things). If you don’t get this confirmation, feel free to send us another one!
Wishlist:
Due to the size of the fandom and the myriad of tastes, we thought it would be a good idea to have a wishlist of things you want, and things you don’t want – perhaps three items on each. This is so people have an idea of the genre of content. Please don’t say “I want fanart and no gifs!” because obviously people have different talents. Think of the wishlist more like… “I really enjoy NSFW content, but I also like cute fluff. I really hate sad endings.”
We would just like to clarify, though, that we have no say in who gets who or what they actually give you (we use a fruit machine to scramble the names).
Content:
Currently, the idea is to not police the content the different users create. That is, if you are an artist, you may receive art in return, or you may receive a story. Preferably, these two mediums are the gift, however there are users who do create other types of content: videos and animations and the like. These are all 100% acceptable.
Please be aware that, if you like creating NSFW content, the recipient may be underage, or may not like it. Remember, it’s for them, not yourself :)
Participants:
Absolutely anyone is welcome to join and participate! If you want to create but not receive, please let us know because we’ll be reblogging Christmas stuff anyway – we just want to make sure no one misses out.
It also doesn’t matter if you’ve never done something like this before, and never created content. Just make sure it is of a standard that you would like to receive for yourself.
When you’ve been confirmed as a participant, it would be really wonderful if you could make a post on your Tumblr with your preferences (tagged under ‘widowtracer secret santa’) for your gift-giver to peruse. We’ll be making a master lift of the wishlists in order to make it easier to see.
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact the blog. And, once again, don’t be shy about participating. It’s Christmas – it’s the thought that counts. Don’t fear, and don’t stress, that you aren’t good enough, because you are. As long as you put in the effort that you would like to receive, it will be wonderful :)
