Yuletide Recs, Part 1

[wakeupnew]

Hello friends! It's January 3 and I bet you thought you had escaped this year's exhaustive list of wakeupnew Yuletide recs - NOPE, I just didn't have the days following Christmas off work this year, and it turns out that is extremely not conducive to reading the entire Yuletide archive in a week. Or really at all. But I'm here! I'm ready! I'm ... very late! Let's do this thing!

Before we start alphabetically by fandom, I want to direct your attention to my TWO DELIGHTFUL GIFTFICS, which we will discuss in greater detail once I reach H and S in the alphabet: With A Little Help by genarti (How to Be a Werewolf, Malaya and Vincent) and hold me tight, it's getting cold by savetomorrow (Sungkyunkwan Scandal, Jae-shin/Yong-ha). Read them!!!

AGATHA CHRISTIE'S POIROT
Hats Off to the Milliner's Daughter
(This is so charming! My actual favorite line is spoilery, so I substituted another lovely bit instead. I love what forces of nature both Miss Lemon and Miss Verne are.)

Miss Lemon, suddenly finding herself in the position of the hero in front of a spell-bound audience, did her best to measure up to the expectations, and spent their walk back to her office trying to wring every last drop of thrills out of the cases she had actively participated in. Miss Verne was indeed a very good listener, and Miss Lemon couldn't help but compare her to her unfortunate former fiance Edwin Graves, who had added to his other sins that of also being the kind of person who made others feel boring when they talked to him.

Still Life with Flowers
(Inspector Japp has the wrong idea about Poirot and Hastings -- OR DOES HE?? This is the coziest, wholesomest [apparently not a word, but you know what I mean!] slow burn, with lovely details and character voices.)

After that incident, Hastings makes a habit of putting bouquets on Poirot's desk. Unlike the first one, they are no apologies—in fact, there does not appear to be any pattern to them at all. Sometimes, a week passes, sometimes more, sometimes less. There is no further meaning in the choice of flowers, either. Hastings probably picks whatever appeals to him on the spur of the moment, and Poirot can picture him well enough going back and forth between the choices in the shop, appraising them for their artistic merits. It is an endearing image.

ALIENS
On the Shore, the Whale Bone and the Horseshoe Crab
(Aliens 3 never sat right with me, and I love this alternate universe look at what happens to Ripley, Hicks, Newt, and Bishop after the end of the second film. There's some beautifully-drawn tension here [I got nervous for the characters!], and some especially interesting and neat stuff about the connection between Bishop and the ship.)

Ripley stepped off the ladder to the bottom of the passage. "Okay, I'm down the shaft. Straight ahead?"

"Straight ahead, Ripley." More faintly, as Hicks must have turned his head away from the transmitter: "So Bishop, how are you doing? Is there anything we can do for you?"

Faintly: "I am different now. There is nothing to be done about that."

AMERICAN GODS
Wishes
(Salim and the djinn. This is really beautiful, sensual prose.)

This was already more than he’d dared to hope for. To have this night... It won’t be enough when he’s back in the Panglobal office, or when he’s back home, where he has to bear his brother-in-law’s disappointment.

But it’ll be something. One bright thing, as brilliant and pure as fire, to cling to when he wakes in the middle of the night, his chest so tight with things he can’t name that he clutches his hand over his mouth because what wants to come out would be enough to wake the whole house.

ANNE OF GREEN GABLES SERIES BY L.M. MONTGOMERY
Winter's Eve
(Anne and Diana play house, minding the Barrys' home while the rest of the family is away, before going to a party together. This is so, so cozy and lovely, with perfect character voices.)

It was fortunate that Anne had developed the ability to daydream and work all at once, for her mind was racing as she set to making the week’s bread: Imagining coming home to Diana every day. Having a spare room of their own. Baking Diana’s favorite cooky at least once a month, just to make her smile. Reading aloud by the fire while Diana sewed, or knit.

She knew she should daydream about Tall, Dark and Handsome rogues, and sometimes she did, but more often, it was her own Short, Raven Haired and Bonny Diana that occupied her thoughts.

dreaming on the verge of strife
(God, this made me cry. Walter at war. The whole thing is gorgeous, but there's a particular line about other people thinking him fearless or reckless when the reality is that he passionately loathes seeing people suffer -- it really got to me. So did Walter finding beauty where he can in hell and growing a small garden of plants from back home in spent artillery shells; the way that he slowly changes over time spent in the trenches, and how his feelings on the war morph and change; his memories of a time when he wasn't at war beginning to fade. This broke my heart. Wow. I was so angry about Walter's death, when I lived for these books as a kid. This, while painful, somehow helps.)

At dawn on the 5th of August he arrives in a port at Le Havre, where he is awakened by the gleeful shouts and cries of boatmen in French. Walter goes out onto the main deck where a gathering of soldiers has already congregated by the rail, muttering excitedly and admiring the bright lights illuminating the harbor. He has never been so far away from home before, Walter reflects as he gazes at the looming edge of land, a small breeze stirring the dark hair beneath his khaki cap; behind their ship the deep cerulean ribbon of sea rolls along endlessly, implacably, as the vast distance continues to widen between him and the silvery, dune-filled shores of Prince Edward Island.

ANNE WITH AN E
my river runs to thee
(This is a gorgeous future for Anne and Gilbert. Anne is beautifully, perfectly Anne; I knew it was going to be perfect as soon as she interrupted her own narration, in the first paragraph, to exclaim about a splendid way of distinguishing trees. All the characters are so true to themselves, and just right -- I loved how aghast Marilla was at the thought that Anne had asked Gilbert to the dance; Gilbert's amusement and unwavering regard for Anne; how sure Anne was that he only says yes to escorting her in order to mess with her, and the way she slowly, carefully begins to engage with her own feelings; her friendship with Diana... It's all beautiful.)

“Gilbert!” Anne shrieks. It takes a bit more trouble than usual to assure herself that it’s a reaction of horror rather than—well, anyway. “I would rather die. That’s the truth. I would simply rather die.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Diana says. Her disapproval is palpable; were it in Anne’s power to bat it away with a stick, she would. “It’s only a party. Would it really be so bad to let Gil escort you?”

“Diana,” Anne says, clasping her dear, misguided friend’s hands between hers and staring firmly into her eyes, “without exaggeration, it would be cataclysmic.”

Diana furrows her brow, mouthing the syllables.

AUBREY-MATURIN SERIES BY PATRICK O'BRIEN
Secrets
(I love the Diana voice here -- sharp, clever, fond, and so forthright. Seeing Maturin through her eyes is delightful.)

She has been married before and lost more lovers than she cares to dwell on, and Maturin, despite his overtures for her attention, has few romantic bones in his slight body. By the time they are wed, they have known each other for years, and she feels she must know him as well as anyone on this Earth could. He is her Maturin, and she holds for him an affection unlike she has held for a man before. It is not the burning love she has felt for others, nor is the flush of infatuation or the resignation of duty she fears so deeply. She finds that she enjoys him, in all his odd ways, for no other reason than he is hers.

BEND IT LIKE BECKHAM
A Game of Two Halves
(Oh man. Jess dealing with the pressure of being the only Indian-British woman on the team, and settling on the conclusion that she can't have both football and Jules, is heartbreaking. I love the easy-but-fraught-because-FEELINGS relationship between Jess and Jules, and all the football content!)

Jess turns and gives Jules a large smile and then winks aggressively. “’Sides, you know that my heart belongs to you.” Jess can’t help but laugh at that.

“I would have been offended if you’d given it to someone who doesn’t even know the handball rule,” Jess says as seriously as she can manage.

“She did know it!” Jules says. “Well, sort of. She roughly understood it. It is a very confusing rule.”

BILL AND TED'S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE
It's About Time
(There is a line where Ted leaves a note that says WYLD STALLYNS RULE in a completely inappropriate situation and I legitimately shouted with laughter, I'm laughing again just thinking about it now. Bill and Ted are SUCH COLOSSAL IDIOTS in a way that's extremely true to canon; I loved the princesses, too. Honestly I just screamed with laughter through this entire fic. It was also heartwarming, but oh my god it's so funny. THEY WERE LIKE PANDAS. ARE THERE HANDJOBS IN THE FUTURE.)

Bill sat down on his amp. “I’m just thinking. Do you ever just … think?”

“Of course I do,” Ted said, sitting next to him. Bill looked at him quickly, then looked away. “I think about music! And Cabbage Patch Kids, dude, remember those? SO creepy. I think about those a lot.”

“But, like. The future,” Bill said.

BLACK BOOKS
Tonight
(The moment Fran "power-slunk out of sight" at the start of this fic, I settled in, ready for greatness, and this fic did not disappoint. The tone and voice is perfect. Fran is SO FUCKING FUNNY -- leaving to go get chips rather than deal with Bernard's emotion; planning to show her boobs to the TFL inspector rather than paying her bus fare (even small asides like "it was a titless night" had me howling); god, EVERY description of Bernard's vile bedsit (only habitable because the neighbor throws bleach at the toilet!). What a glorious fic.)

Bernard’s handwritten manuscript pages were stuck to the carpet, beside the one bar electric heater and the coin box for the electricity meter. Some of the pages had been rolled up and jammed into the meter box, and Fran couldn’t piece together Bernard’s drunken reasoning that led him to believe he could directly exchange his incoherent ranting for electricity.

Fran smoothed out the pages, then disinfected her hands with a splash of gin before pulling her laptop out of her bag. This was date night, the highlight of her romantic relationship with Bernard, when Fran would edit and type his weekly output, and Bernard would approve her previous work, ready for Fran to send out with cover letters.

“Work!” Bernard shouted. “My glorious words must be shared with the world!”

BLUE BEETLE
Freshman
(I love that superheroing is just, like, the Reyes family business now! This is a wonderful Milagro slice of life, as she learns to balance college with being a Green Lantern. The tips from Jaime and relationship with her family and roommate are delightful.)

The week before finals, a giant robot lizard attacked campus. Milagro heard the screams first, and then the whirr-clank she'd learned years ago meant they were dealing with an amateur robot-making mad scientist. Good. Jaime always said the amateurs went down quicker, so hopefully she could get back to studying before dinner.

BRIDGERTON SERIES BY JULIA QUINN
by your side in a quiet roar
(I loved this Daphne/Simon modern AU! It does a beautiful job of bringing the characters into 2018 while still all sounding exactly like themselves; the sense of a big, warm, chaotic, loving family is still there, and Simon and Daphne are lovely.)

Anthony’s mouth twitches. “He’s put a stipulation in the will. If you’re not married within the next year, you’re disinherited.”

His first instinct is to laugh, which Simon does. It’s a short bark, harsh in his throat. “Fuck off. Is this the fucking middle ages?”

“It was less than a hundred years ago that a man had to give up the British crown to marry. This isn’t some bygone bullshit from the bloody Regency.”

“In fairness, that was for the best, given all the fascism.”

THE BRIGHT SESSIONS
Still Bleeding
(Adam, dealing with what he knows now and his family's--and his own--role in it. I could hear all of the actors' voices on the dialogue, and the Adam POV is perfect -- self-assured but also unsure, sometimes acerbic, always thoughtful. I especially loved his conversations with Frank and Caleb, and the way that the first scene cycles back in the final one.)

“What, and you just like doing anything that makes me happy?” Adam teases.

To his surprise, Caleb’s neck flushes. “Uh, yeah?” he says. “Your happiness feels really nice.”

Adam’s heart immediately goes soft; Caleb sort of rolls his eyes, but his blush gets deeper. “Okay, Adam, you don’t have to be all mushy about it. I just meant, like—”

BUZZFEED WORTH IT
we'll make a brand new start of it (in old new york)
(FAKE! DATING!! Picking a quote for this was impossible. I kept putting one in, then reading on and switching it for another one, then finding yet another one. It's all so sharp and funny and telling and in-character perfect. Also, the narrative itself is hilarious--"nothingburger of a pronouncement"; Stephen's a blatherer, not someone who trails off; Andrew's not sure if the thrill up his spine is from the steak tartare mouthfeel part or the Stephen whispering in his ear part. Just. Sweet jesus. This is fantastic. Andrew thinks about Steven in food terms. Steven killed me: "Whatever thing there is in men that makes them uncomfortable around other men, whatever the source of that deliberate and learned distance, Steven doesn’t have it. [...] Sometimes he’ll say things unprompted that are so emotionally honest that Andrew doesn’t feel equipped to deal with them." THE MOST STEVEN.)

Steven’s seen too many romantic comedies and Andrew does not care for it.

“You’ve seen too many romantic comedies and I don’t care for it,” Andrew says by way of hello.

“You look nice too,” Steven says, with a crinkle-eyed grin and a showy adjustment of his cuffs. He opens the door for Andrew, and Andrew almost refuses to get in the car on principle.

Russian Roulette Croquembouche
(I love them here -- Steven the risk-taker, and Andrew the pretending-to-be-grumpy and always-plays-it-safe [and Adam and Rie and everyone]. And the food and callbacks to the food jokes! The croquembouche calls Andrew's bluff! “I’m taller than you, I’m stronger than you, I’m louder than you, and I’m on top of you. I’ll let you know if it’s too much.” JESUS.)

That’s a risk Andrew absolutely cannot take, one he could not take even if he were the sort of person takes risks. Even if he was the kind of person who eats a wasabi cream puff on purpose just to know, which he is not.

“Okay Google,” Andrew says, hearing the frustration in his own voice. “Find me the nearest body of water to drive into.”

“The Los Angeles River is four point four miles away!” the Google assistant chirps back helpfully. “Rerouting you!”

She really is helpful.