Link to fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22130020/chapters/52821043
Summary:
John works in the Starbucks on Myrtle Street in Liverpool and Paul comes in for coffee. They fall in love via email exchange and everything is wonderful.
Why I like this fic:
John's humour in this fic is *spot on* and Paul is so wonderfully written too, they're so totally true to themselves and the author has somehow melded the wonderful reality of them with the present day. Even only halfway through the first chapter I was grinning like a lunatic and falling in love with this 'verse then kept thinking of it all through work. It makes me want to live in the Myrtle Street branch until they walk in. ❤️
Rated T • Published 2023 • Complete • Word count ~20k
Atem, a lingering spirit, haunts an abandoned house that’s fallen into ruin. He’s long resigned himself to his strange, lonely existence.
That is, until Yugi Mutou enters the picture.
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49980562/chapters/126193324
@punmasterintraining says: I read this one back when it was updating, I was new to the fandom and it combines 2 of my favorite tropes, the ghost au and amnesia (soooo much angst potential). It's been 3 years since i've read it, but I remember it being a really sweet story. I hope you all enjoy it too <3
bungou stray dogs | T | 665 words
nakahara chuuya x reader/OC
chuuya likes dressing you up. and when someone has something bad to say about it? well...
you and chuuya get a lot of looks when you’re walking down the street. especially after he started dressing you up. at first, chuuya would always volunteer to drive you in a car or at least on a motorcycle, to avoid prying eyes, and for your own safety. but after a certain amount of time, it became dull, monotonous, and really, a little restricting.
so you made a compromise. you wear your “regular, commoner clothes” (your words) when you’re out alone, and when you do have to wear your “stylish, chuuya-approved clothes” (your words still) you’ll have to be out with him, so he can assure that no one dares to do anything more than look. and he’d agreed to that. and you’d agreed to that, not knowing the level of how far “assuring” chuuya meant when he haggled it into the explanation.
until today.
“chuuya!”
the man stumbles backwards, falls on his ass to the ground with a yelp clutching his cheek. chuuya had aimed for the center of his face, but moved it sideways when he heard your clarity-inducing voice. he doesn’t have time to deal with lowlifes like this. he just had to land a blow and then the both of you can go.
so dislocating the man’s jaw was enough. he didn’t even need to use his ability.
your instinct is to rush toward the injured man, the very same man who, just seconds ago, had insinuated you might be some sort of gold-digging whore with a dirty, scheming boyfriend. all because the two of you were just the slightly dressed up above average for a little dinner and then a chill planetarium date because there were shooting stars tonight.
a whore?
“i dare you to fucking say that again with your face like that,” chuuya growls, the only thing holding him back from throwing another blow being your hand around his wrist. the orange of the sunset illuminates his face in an angry glow that makes his features light in an intimidating glow. “wanna find out what i’m going to do to you next?”
you tug at his wrist again. “chuuya, he’s had enough. let’s go.”
really, you’re the only voice of reason when he gets like this. with a huff, chuuya snaps out of it and you gratefully pull him next to you. you try to look regretful at the “poor victim” while inside boiling him alive for what he’s said to you and chuuya. with a deadpan look at the nearest bystander—because of course there are people watching—you say, “please call him an ambulance.”
and then, with one last look at the man, the two of you leave the scene without another word.
once you’ve gotten far enough, the sunset giving in to twilight’s violet glow, you hit chuuya at the shoulder with your hand. you understand why he reacted like that, and inwardly you are thankful because you wouldn’t have had the courage to do it yourself, but at the same time… “did you have to act so violently?”
“didya think i was gonna tolerate that?” he huffs, remorseless. “can’t let him think he’s right.”
you frown. “i get it, but you don’t have to make a scene every time.”
sensing your upset, chuuya turns to you. “can’t promise, love, but i’ll try.”
“good. you should try your best.”
“maybe i won’t try as hard.”
you glower. “chuuya!”
chuuya laughs unapologetically as the two of you turn the corner to the restaurant. he links his arms with yours and you lean, for the slightest of moments, against his shoulder. he doesn’t give one shit what other people think about you, of the both of you. he’s going to make sure his highness is dressed exactly the way they want in the most beautiful of ways no matter how simple or extravagant. and he’ll make sure no one has any negative things to say about it.
Merry Christmas for those who celebrate today, Merry Christmas Eve to those who celebrate tomorrow, and Happy Friday for everybody else. Just a short little fic of Alex, Natalie and Kasey decorating his apartment for the first time.
CW: Hot drinks and Christmas
Rating: T
Credit for characters and the sweater weather universe goes to @lumosinlove
“For me?” Alex said, taking the offered mug. Steam rose from it, lapping warm against his chin and bringing with it a rich, velvety hint of chocolate.
“A peace offering,” Natalie laughed, letting her nails graze gently against the exposed skin where the hem of his t-shirt had ridden up. “Who knew tree lights could be so contentious?”
“Oh, you two have made up then? I was about to send you to separate rooms to think about your words.”
“We weren’t that bad,” Alex scoffed, plucking a marshmallow from the mug. It was just the right side of too melted, perfectly sticky and sweet in his mouth. He would have forgiven Natalie anyway, his tone had probably been worthy of the scathing remark, but he wasn’t opposed to an incentive.
“You definitely couldn’t repeat that conversation…” Kasey raised his hands to wrap the last word with quotation marks. “...in polite company.”
“I just want it to be perfect,” Natalie sighed. The gentle pressure lifted from his back and Natalie pulled her hair into a messy bun with the hair tie that was eternally found on her wrist. “It’s our first - Well, technically we were together last year for the day, but catching a red-eye for a hurried 24 hours together isn’t exactly my definition of idyllic. We’re supposed to be doing it properly this year.”
“Alexa, pause.” The cooing sounds of Mariah Carey stopped abruptly, plunging the room into a loud silence. Alex set the mug down, stepping away from the box of decorations he’d been rummaging through before the hot chocolate had distracted him. “It’s already perfect -”
Kasey groaned. “Don’t say it!”
Alex grinned, looked Kasey dead in the eye and wrapped his arms around Natalie’s waist. “All I want for Christmas is you,” he sang.
Natalie tipped her head back, a loud laughter bubbling from her lips. The urge to cringe was well worth seeing the corners of her eyes wrinkle in the way Alex loved.
“Seriously, Bee,” Alex knocked his forehead lightly against Natalie’s. “You need to stop watching rom-coms with Lily. There might not be a montage in the background, and we might have to call a truce every now and then, but the magic doesn’t reside in unrealistic Hallmark-esque perfection, but in the fact that at the end of it all, when I turn those lights on for the first time, it’s still going to be you who I want to be there next to me.”
“I’m going to barf,” Kasey whined. His apparent revulsion didn’t stop him padding across the hardwood in socked feet to join them.
Natalie smacks Kasey lightly on the arm. “Okay, Mr. ‘It’s you, it's always been you.'"
“I still have the note so don’t try to deny it,” Alex added, tugging Kasey closer. He does still have it. The neat looping cursive written on the back of an old take-out leaflet. He'd first found it tucked into the front pocket of his backpack, where he always kept his boarding pass. Tired, lonely and already wondering if he had just destroyed one of his most important friendships for one night of (admittedly wonderful) intimacy, Alex had read it over and over.
It's you, It's always been you. And now it's her too. Us, if you want it to be. I know it's a lot to think about. Take your time. We'll wait.
“The garland is up in the entrance,” Kasey deflects, letting himself be enveloped in their heat. Alex didn’t know how Kasey had managed to put the thing up alone, but he’d been insistent and there had only been one incident of cursing, quickly followed by him telling the length of fir to take that.
“Thanks, love.” Alex said, untangling himself from his partners and turning back to the two storage boxes on the table. They were fabric and had dividers, the sort of thing you found on QVC. Finn had chirped at him for weeks when he’d first got them, but in Alex’s opinion you could never take holiday decorations too seriously. “So, gold or silver baubles?”
“Gold.”
“Silver.”
Alex looked up to two pairs of eyes staring at him expectantly. He threw his hands up, shaking his head. “Oh, no no. This is between you two now.”
“Rock, paper, scissors?” Natalie suggested, already stretching her arm out.
“Best of three?”
“Five,” Natalie hummed decisively. “This is a very important matter.”
Alex knew how this was going to go and it wasn’t going to be quick. Glancing down at his mug of hot chocolate, he saw his marshmallows had become a pink and white molten mess. “I’m going to switch out the cushions and throws.”
It takes a while, but they eventually decide on gold. Gold and Red. Somehow, it takes them another hour, when there’s a plethora of baubles and bows on the tree, stockings over the fireplace and a family of gold reindeer in the corner, to connect the colours with The Lions.
“Hey!” Alex stopped, clutching a pile of faux presents. “You only wanted these colours because -”
“Let’s turn on the lights,” Kasey interrupted, a sly smirk settling onto his lips.
Alex wrinkled his nose. The people you want to be there when you switch the lights on. “You’re lucky I love you.”
Rated: T | AO3 link | Words: 888 | No Beta | Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, mention of nightmares, Human Castiel (Supernatural)
Summary: Dean and Cas respond to a request for research help on a hunt. Annoyingly, it's just before September 1st in Boston and all the hotels are out of rooms.
EXCERPT
The call for back-up came in at one in the morning, three days before all of them were supposed to leave for Labor Day Weekend.
Sam took the call from the hunter up in Massachusetts who was dealing with the ghost of a witch. The witch had taken steps before her death to ensure she’d never be found. Dean didn’t want to take the trip all the way up there to play around in a library when he could have been barbecuing at the lake house — but Sam gently pointed out that it wasn’t his and Eileen’s turn this time.
“We can still get barbecue in Boston,” Cas mumbled as he fiddled with the GPS while on the road.
Dean frowned.
“It’s not the same. They do it wrong up there.”
“How is it done correctly?”
Dean shrugged.
“I don’t know! I just know when it’s wrong.”
Cas laughed as he tapped in the library’s address. Dean didn’t need the GPS but Cas liked watching the trip progress and would warn Dean when police officers were up ahead.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
John Stilinski, the Christmas Matchmaker | HisBeloved | T | 6k
John just wants to get laid.
But also, he wants his 23-year-old son to find happiness, to find the person that changes his world and loves him. Derek Hale doesn't have anywhere to go on Christmas. So John is going to play matchmaker for Christmas.
*Submissions for December 2021 Sterek fic recs are still open! We’ll be sharing on an ongoing basis and do a master post in Jan. Submissions info here*
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The Perils (Pros) of Undelivered Messages by heartsocold
Ship: Merlin/Arthur
Main Characters: Merlin, Arthur
Rating: Teen
Warnings: No archive warnings apply
Major tags: Modern setting, get together, misunderstandings, fluff
Summary: Merlin pulled out his phone, the blood draining from his face as he looks at the chat. “The message didn’t send. Shit.” Arthur stared at him in terror. He felt himself flush from head to toe, which was curious because he was pretty sure all the blood in his veins had turned to ice. He couldn’t believe this was happening; couldn’t believe he’d completely embarrassed himself like this. He briefly wondered if the mortification would hurry up and kill him, if only so that he didn’t have to deal with whatever came next.
