LINKDING

<blockquote>“What’s going on in there?!” the raspy voice of a slightly inebriated ruffian comes from outside the thicket. Shen Jiu, one arm of the corpse slung around his shoulder and the other around Yue Qi’s, stares dead ahead into the shallow freshly dug grave, thinking furiously. “We’re not doing anything!” he gasps out performatively, trying to make his voice less snappish and more flustered. He fails, miserably, judging by the wide-eyed trapped look that Yue Qi fixes him with. “Quick,” he continues, pitching his voice quieter- but loud enough to carry to the man on the path- “quick, put your clothes on, ge!”</blockquote>

<blockquote>Jingyan rolled his eyes a little. “I mean that there is no need to be secretive,” he said. He nodded at Meng, who was looking both confused and alarmed. “It is unkind of you, Sir Su, to force Commander Meng to tell lies; it makes him very uncomfortable.”</blockquote> ➤ pretend dating that's really truly only for pretend and doesn't go anywhere

<blockquote>“To be clear,” Clark asked, “did I just help you commit a felony?” Lois said nothing, but gave Clark her best ‘shut the fuck up’ look. Obediently, he shut the fuck up. She hadn’t needed to bring him along. The only reason she had was as a precaution. He might be too big to be sneaky, but he was a fine size for warding off the majority of small threats. Lois, despite a carefully cultivated demeanor, still could not intimidate as well as a hapless dork who happened to shop in big and tall.</blockquote> ➤ I love Lois's pov!

<blockquote>Illya and Napoleon go undercover in a drag bar. Illya...tries to cope.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Javert/Montparnasse, fake dating Ok so. I was gong to just go AU for this but "canon-compliant" is more fun, right?</blockquote> ➤ also on ao3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/3851548 where the summary is: <blockquote>Inspector Javert is really incredibly bad at undercover work.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Mairelon and Renee, fake dating?</blockquote>

<blockquote>Canon era, of course, because that’s funnier and where my brain hangs out anyway.  So this is at some kind of gathering — a party, a meeting of some kind of society that turns out not to be as seriously revolutionary as they’d hoped, Bahorel’s hometown for some reason (because scandalous gossip is extra fun if you’re going to go right back to Paris and make your sisters deal with the neighbors’ inquiries), whatever.  The point is, these are not close friends and the diplomatic stakes aren’t high, and Bahorel is bored stiff.  So the obvious thing to do is to start flirting with Combeferre hardcore — endearments every sentence, smirking, zero personal space, the works.</blockquote>