#they took the pretending to be married trope and just blew it up

[seasonofthegeek]

The Perfect Partnership

This drabble was requested on ko-fi by @staylostinstereo for the fanfic trope mash-ups with the prompts “marriage of convenience” and “pregnancy” for Adrien and Marinette. I couldn’t quite work in pregnancy (at this point in the story anyway) but I did mention babies, haha. I decided to go with a non-Miraculous AU where they’ve been best friends for years. Thanks for you donation!

___

“It’s not the craziest thing I’ve proposed.” Adrien wiggled his eyebrows. “Did you get that? Proposed.”

Marinette blinked at her best friend. “Wait, are you actually serious about this?”

“Of course I am! I can’t get my trust fund until I’m married and you need capital to start your business. It’s the perfect partnership.”

“It’s marriage.”

“Well, yeah.” He frowned. “Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?”

She threw her hands in the air with an agitated huff. “I’m saying this is nuts! We can’t just get married so you can get your trust fund!”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” she echoed. “Because...because that’s just not what people do. We’re not even dating.”

“It’s what we could do. And everyone already thinks we’re together anyway.”

Marinette shifted away from him uncomfortably. “That still doesn’t make it right.” She’d been in love with her best friend off and on for a decade or so and marrying him seemed like a very bad idea...or a very good one. Either way, it most definitely wasn’t a smart idea.

“We can divorce in like a year or something. Nothing will change anyway. We already spend most nights together.”

“Not together together.”

Adrien sighed. “Fine, we already spend most nights in the same apartment. Better?”

“I guess.”

“And it isn’t like I’m going to make you share my bed just because you’ll be my wife, although you know you’re welcome to.” Another man may have taken that opportunity to give her a leering look but there was only earnest hopefulness in Adrien’s eyes.

It was true they’d slept in the same bed some nights. Adrien wasn’t partial to storms and Marinette didn’t like sleeping alone when it got too cold so they fell into bed together from time to time. And Marinette often woke up pining and regretful. She couldn’t do that on a daily basis.

“Adrien, I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He stuck out his bottom lip. “But you’re the only person in the world who would marry me.”

“You and I both know that isn’t true. You’ve got women, men, and everyone in between lining up everytime you walk outside.”

“You’re the only person in the world I want to marry,” he amended. “Come on, please. We’ll have enough money to do whatever we want.”

“It’ll be your money.”

“As my wife, it’ll be yours too,” he grinned. “I want to spend it on you. You’re the most important person in my life.” He took her hands in his. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, please do me the honor of marrying me so we can get our hands on my awful father’s money and do really fun stuff with it.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“You can! It doesn’t even have to be anything big. We can do a really quiet ceremony and tell Alya and NIno the truth. Or we can throw a big party if we want. We can do anything.”

She could feel her resolve wearing down. “I need to think about it.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “That’s fine. Do that. Think about how much easier it will be to start your business with no debt.”

“You’re killing me here.”

Adrien flashed her a killer smile. “I’d never do that to my future wife.”

___

“Wow.” Alya watched Marinette turn on her heels and pace back across her small living room. “Like wow, wow. I knew he was in love with you but this is just beyond.”

Marinette spun sharply and glared at her. “Adrien is not in love with me. I can’t have this conversation with you again.”

“Okay, don’t shoot the messenger but that man has been in love with you since we were all sporting acne.” Alya shook her head. “I know you never want to believe me, but he definitely is.”

“And I’m saying he’s definitely not. Adrien and I are friends, we’ve always been friends.”

“And now he wants to marry you. That’s how I am with all my friends too.”

Marinette groaned and sank down to the couch, dragging her palms down her face. “What am I gonna do?”

“What do you want to do?”

She blew out a puff of air. “I want to marry him and have his kids and grow old with him and the worst thing he could’ve ever done is ask me to have a fake marriage with him and I’m so angry at him right now.” She felt the prick of tears and gritted her teeth, willing them to go away. “He’s just a big, stupid jerk except he didn’t even mean to be which makes it worse.”

“Oh, Mari,” Alya sighed softly. She moved down the couch and pulled her friend into a hug. “I think you just need to talk to him. Maybe he feels the same way you do.”

“And if he doesn’t, it would make everything really weird,” she muttered, burying her face in Alya’s soft hair. “I can’t, Al. I just can’t.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

___

“So this marriage thing, what if you end up meeting somebody?” Marinette had been rehearsing the question in her head throughout half the movie and she saw Adrien hesitate beside her, his fork dropping back down into his box of Chinese delivery.

“I won’t,” he replied carefully.

“You could.” 

“But I won’t,” he repeated, voice firmer this time. “And if you do...well...we can figure it out.”

“We can figure it out? Like you’ll be my husband and I can just date someone else because the whole thing is fake?”

Adrien’s expression became pained and he kept his eyes in the direction of the television. “If that’s what you want.”

“What do you want?”

“To get married so we can have lots of money and fun together.”

“Because we’re best friends,” she pressed.

“Of course.”

“Right.”

An uncomfortable silence slid between them and they finished the rest of the movie without any further conversation on the topic.

___

She’d talked to Alya.

She’d talked to her mom and then her dad, though she’d left out a lot of the finer details.

She’d talked to herself a lot.

She’d talked to Adrien in her head. Hundreds of conversations and they all ended up the same way.

She couldn’t marry him. Not like this. Not when he thought it was something it wasn’t. Not when he didn’t know how she felt about him.

But she also wasn’t ready to tell him how she felt. She doubted she would ever be ready.

She had to tell him no. 

He’d find someone else to marry so he could get his trust fund and she would keep saving up to start her business just like she’d planned and they’d still be best friends. They’d both be fine.

Marinette gathered her courage and walked up the familiar steps to Adrien’s apartment. She used the code she knew by heart to get into the building and fished her personal key out of her purse as she rode the elevator up. She gave the quick cursory knock on the door before she slid her key into the lock and pushed it open.

Adrien shuffled into view, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a miserable expression on his face. “I’m sick,” he whined pitifully. His cheeks were dark and his eyes were too bright and Marinette knew even before she made it to him that his skin would be hot to the touch.

“Go lay down. Have you eaten anything yet?”

“Not hungry.”

“Big baby. Go lay on the couch and I’ll make you something.” She watched him until he made it to the couch and then went to busy herself in the kitchen. The open layout let her keep an eye on him as she worked. “Have you taken any medicine?”

“Don’t have any,” he sniffled.

“I brought some over last time you got sick.”

“I used it all.”

“You’re supposed to replace it, you goof. What would you do without me?”

He turned on the couch so he could watch her with half-lidded eyes. “I don’t ever want to know.”

His hair was a mess and he’d rarely looked worse but Marinette couldn’t help but feel fond warmth flow through her entire being. She loved him so much, even when he was a sad lump of a man. 

“Are you going to marry me, Mari?” His eyes were sliding shut, the words slurring out from between sleepy lips.

She could’ve said nothing. She could’ve kept her promise to herself and told him no. She could’ve pretended she didn’t hear him.

But instead she whispered, “Yes.”

Buy me a cherry coke?

#adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #did i play myself writing this? #you better believe it #i want to write more #but i have to finish up other stuff first #you know #unless someone sends kofi for more #and then like i'd HAVE to move it up this list #alksdjf;lksadjf

[mousehole5000]

wow i made this draft on november 1st i really took a break from this huh anyway tgcf chapters 121 - 142

i realize now this coffin scene was inevitable. feel kinda weird about hua cheng  back and forth from Teen to Big Man but it is very funny that theyre having their “dude dont look at my boner” moment while in the jaws of a water dragon

pei ming: why didnt you guys make a bigger coffin so you didnt have to squish together like that? xie lian: haha yep!! anyways what brings you here?

“In the grand, spacious centre of the entrance hall sat a person. And this person, dressed in all black, its face snow-white—was a corpse! Instantly Xie Lian shut the doors soundly.” - king of minding his own business.

okay this is where i stopped putting notes here for a while but i did save some in my e-reader so here’s some of the highlights

“Guzi used to have a good sleeping form, but perhaps with his cheap dad’s bad influence, now he was also spread out on top of Qi Rong’s stomach like a dead fish. Lang Ying himself was curled neatly in the corner, and was covered by a few shirts. Xie Lian lifted the blanket covering Qi Rong, suppressed the urge to smother his face, and covered the two small children.” - xie lian funny moments. also it would be really funny if qi rong redeems himself by learning love through these misfit chiildren and it might actually endear me to him but i hope that doesnt happen

Every heavenly official was yelling, and even Ling Wen was throwing a fit. “DON’T THROW EVERY BIT OF USELESS INFORMATION MY WAY, HOW MUCH DO YOU THINK I HAVE TO GO THROUGH EVERY DAY? DON’T YOU ALL KNOW TO USE YOUR BRAINS A LITTLE BEFORE ASKING ME?!” - ling wen marry me right now

“An expression like “seen a ghost” that only mortals experienced was now showing on his face for the first time. Shi Wudu’s pupils shrank to the smallest they could, and he blurted, “You’re still alive?!” “I’m dead!” He Xuan said coldly.” - okay everythings going tits up rn but i did laugh

i did see spoilers re: ming yi/he xuan reveal + shi wudu’s fate beforehand so i dont have a genuine reaction other than oh shit

“He slowly enunciated each word. “I won’t touch your fate. But, here in this place, chop off your brother’s head for me.”  CLANG! He threw a rusty blade onto the ground. Shi Qingxuan stared at that blade, his eyes wide. He Xuan continued, “Then, never show yourself before me again, and I will pretend you’ve never existed in this world.” - okay idk what else is going to happen but rn im concerned that this is like the 2nd biggest ship. i guess we’ll see?? i mean i am really curious whats going to happen to them. shi qingxuan keeps calling he xuan “ming-xiong” and i... sad

shi wudu im not really invested in you as a character but these next two bits... interesting

“If I don’t die but have nothing, then that’s truly a fate worse than death. If I’m not the Water God, I can’t take care of you. I won’t even be able to protect myself. I’m scared that we won’t even last two days…TAKE IT!” - damn. something about the wealthy losing everything and not knowing how to live without it bc thats their entire life and identity

“EVERYTHING I HAVE TODAY, I FOUGHT FOR MYSELF. I WILL FIGHT FOR WHAT I DON’T HAVE. I WILL CHANGE FATE I DON’T POSSESS. MY FATE IS UP TO ME AND NOT THE HEAVENS!” - okay so the whole committing spiritual fraud by tormenting a man and his family to get your brother a cushy title thing aside this was kind of badass. heretical? possibly. but still. also is he intentionally riling up he xuan so sqx doesnt have to kill him? if so damn...

also okay as long as im here im just gonna say it. the choice that he xuan gives shi qingxuan is fucking brutal but i actually think its probably as fair as it could be. sqx didnt know about or participate in what happened to hx but they did benefit from it greatly while hx lost EVERYTHING and i can understand he xuan’s thinking of “if you really feel bad for what happened to me then you have to make a sacrifice and understand the suffering and this is as clean as its going to get” and theres a bit where sqx is trying to beg for mercy but cant get the words out which im guessing is bc theres no good argument!! what happened was fucked up!!

“When Pei Ming saw that reinforcements had arrived, he didn’t appear particularly delighted; instead he threw the sword into the ground, then rubbed his nose and said, sounding grim, “You all just had to come just as I finished making these, what the heck.” - pei ming making coffins chopping down trees with his sword i love it #wastehistime2k17

“Xie Lian brought that basket of eggs along, and gave them away as souvenirs from the mortal realm. Many who received the eggs were overjoyed; some deciding to eat it along with their own blood, and some proclaiming they would hatch an eight-foot monster.” - GHOST CITY GHOST CITY

“Placing the brush down, he blew lightly at the ink and smiled. “If I like something, then my heart will not have room for any other, and I’ll always treasure it. A thousand times, a million times, no matter how many years, this will not change. This poem is the same." - thats nice and all but king... get therapy. i actually have further thoughts but tbh i dont want to put them into words bc they are simply too personal! moving on

didnt take any notes but somewhere in here was the bit with mount tong’lu opening and hua cheng losing it and kind of um. hm. that scene. thats another trope i really hate tbh i dont care for it as a way of including physical intimacy between characters and idk if it really ever adds anything but whatever moving on

The Half-Maquillage Woman - kind of interesting monster idea bc women and aging…. yeah. however i think this would be a lot stronger if there were a) more girls and this was b) discussed or illustrated at all prior to this moment. still interesting that its included knowing the author is a woman tho and there’s been comments on how ling wen is perceived vs pei ming. this book does keep giving me hope for interesting female character arcs i really want it to deliver something

quan yizhen..... i get u

lmao i have a note on a bit with lang ying that says “please dont be hc in disguise” and..... my clown nose was on but at least i knew that. for real this is bothering me how much he’s just. always. there. i know he’s a lead but we didn’t really need him around for a lot of this. oh well.  okay now to my current notes

“Yet it was precisely because it wasn’t cooked that it had to be eaten quickly. Once Xie Lian cooked it, it wouldn’t be edible anymore” - fucking fantastic

“Xie Lian hugged his belly. “Of course! Only after having met you did I rediscover that it’s such a simple thing to be happy, hahaha…” Hearing this, Hua Cheng blinked. Xie Lian’s laughter quieted a bit, realizing what he just said was a little too revealing.” - okay i know i said what i said about being tired of hua cheng being everywhere but... the line…. the fact that theyre laughing together…. :pleading:

“It’s not,” Ling Wen said. “At least, I believe, there will definitely not be another in history who can create a dish called ‘Incorruptible Chastity Meatballs’” - and truer words were never spoken

“I, DO NOT WORSHIP GODS. “I, AM GOD!” - this was every bit as badass as i hoped but no one told me it was immediately followed up by a little bit of the ol dinner theater fjalkdsfjsd. also puqi shrine noooooooooo

“Xie Lian sighed as he thought, “Qi Rong has taken Guzi away, who knows if the poor child was eaten or abandoned. Wind Master...... ..... who knows if Black Water took him away. Pray they’re both safe.” yeah hey are we going to fucknig. find out what happened to the child???

and yeah i dooooont really care for the age regression? thing thats going on. i just dont like that trope tbh. but tiny hua cheng whipping out his fat ghost king wallet in the store was funny tho. it is really funny that hualian are just like wandering around some random towns while the heavens are in an uproar. i guess theres not much else to do but its funny

“Me too, me too. You all know of my shixiong, right? Talented, with an infinite future! He only had one small vice: he loved playing women. Decades ago, a little prostitute ghost seduced my shixiong and sucked him dry into human jerky, and that Hua, Hua, Hua, that ghost king dared shelter her.” - yes omg give me the forbidden hua cheng lore i love this for him for real it goes along nicely with xie lian’s principles about giving another cup. god i love shared values

“Hua Cheng poked again, and a small hole appeared on the wall, as if the wall was made of tofu.” - how’d he do that. why is this a ghost king power. its useful tho

*me shaking qi rong when he pops up* WHERE IS THE CHILD

mu qing fu yao is here okay im happy now. once again no one has a good grasp on their secret identity and i love that. this inn has descended into chaos and im delighted and im glad lan chang is back

“The good ol’ kitchen was suddenly squished and crowded, loud and noisy. Fu Yao was chasing that fetus spirit leaping up and down, Lan Chang was chasing after Fu Yao like she had gone mad. Half of Qi Rong’s face changed shape by the way Xie Lian was pressing him down on the chopping board, his back turning into a target for those yellow talismans Fu Yao hurled while being observed by a crowd, and Lan Chang would step on him from time to time.” - this is pure chaos. i love that mu qing was in that room when the mob checked and he didnt say a word didnt open the door just sent out a talisman as a warning. king your disguise is transparent

“Xie Lian remembered the way Feng Xin laughed until he was hoarse when he first heard that verbal password all those years back, and couldn’t help but feel nostalgic, even though it wasn’t the right time.” - awwwww omg im emotional about this... faithful friend feng xin laughing at xie lian’s stupid joke password and remembering it!!! ;_;

“They have, but they’re not effective,” Feng Xin said. “Usually they’re the most diligent in scorning the Palace of Ling Wen, like they could do the job way better if they had the position. Now that we need them to take up the task, not a single one can do even half of what she does.” - typical... typical typical typical

also emotional about the fact that feng xin contacted xie lian at all.....

also!! emotional about lan chang as a mom and wanting to help out sick lil guzi.....

xie lian forcing “fu yao” to let him help “his general” is making me.... what is friendship if not playing along with your buddies little shenanigans while also making them accept your help

“Someone like Mu Qing, even though he’s narrow-minded, petty, sensitive and skeptical, has a bad personality, constantly guessing, doesn’t say nice things, likes to nag, always offending people and has a lot of people who dislike him, has no friends, can remember small, unimportant details for a long period of time…” ”Xie Lian went on in one breath with a straight face, but in the end he concluded with, “...But I’ve known him since we were kids, after all, he’s still got principles.” - XIE LIAN PLEASE AFJDLKSFJDL omg ive seen this quote before but i figured he was talking to someone else not actually to mu qing himself fgjasdkfjsl. god thats amazing. hey im gonna help you out because i care but i will roast you first <3

waaaaaait so is lan chang aka jian lan that girl from book 2 we took a page to talk about and then disappeared? that has to be it why else would we have stopped to discuss her

“Jian Lan spat on his face, then choking his neck, she slapped him twice again. “WHAT SHITTY SUPREME! YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO BLOW YOURSELF UP! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, THINK YOU’RE EVEN WORTH TO BE THOUGHT OF AS EQUALS WITH THE OTHER THREE SUPREMES? WHAT ARE YOU EVEN GOOD AT? YOUR THICK SKIN? OF COURSE I DARE HIT YOU!” - oh this feels so good i cant lie. YES GET HIM!! CHOMPING AND VIOLENCE YES!!!!

okay this description of cuocuo.... im... that sure the hell is a creature

this book is so entertaining bc i already saw spoilers for the feng xin/jian lan/cuo cuo reveal and yet i could never have predicted the circumstances that brought it about. imagine being feng xin. the heavens are in an uproar and your only friend/enemy has been jailed for possible fetus spirit-related crimes but he escapes along with this female ghost who keeps causing problems. you figure “fuck it lets see if dianxia kept his old phone number” and he has but then he hangs up on you. you’ve got fuckall else to do so you go find him. mu qing is there but he’s in his disguise the two of you were using so you could watch over his highness while staying aloof. you think you see hua cheng only he’s a chiild for some goddamn reason but who knows at this point. the female ghost is also there and theres a fetus spirit climbing trees and biting your arrows in half. you realize the female ghost is your ex and the little demon is your son. it bites you. what do you do

amazing that despite everything going on everyone is still playing along with the “fu yao” persona when it would probably be easier to drop pretenses at this point. then again tbh if i could explain my actions to my friends while pretending to be a third party.... i probably would so.. carry on

“With all his devotees gone, only Feng Xin still treated him like the Flower-Crowned Martial God and His Highness the Crown Prince. ” “...his protection charms were all seen as trash. However, Feng Xin was still determined and tireless in handing them out; telling Xie Lian, look, you still have devotees.” “After all, he was the darling of the heavens since birth, high and mighty. Feng Xin so naturally spun around him like he was the world, so how could he possibly have his own life, his own heart” “Whether or not that fetus spirit was Feng Xin’s son, if it was that period of poverty that made Feng Xin lose the girl he loved, Xie Lian wouldn’t be able to forgive himself no matter what." ohhhh my god this relationship i. im...

oh my god i still have 30 more chapters until book 4............ its naptime now i think

#tgcf liveblog #so close and yet so far...... #i keep hearing tell of this fabled book 4 i must press onwards...... #but now im sleepy..... #mouse mumbles

[chinatea]

Jikook Sexy Alien AU Part 1

Personas are a product of @satellite-jeon​ ‘s beautiful mind.

This is WIP and still pretty drafty, and I’ll be posting new parts to tumbler as I finish them. I’m planning 4-5 parts overall. 

For my best girl @kmheart​ <3333 Thank you for loving this mess. <333

Warnings: Coarse language.

Jungkook doesn’t know exactly when his life took a dive from awesome to downright shitty.

And even if he did, he wouldn’t be telling that story any time soon ‘cause no one gives a rat’s arse about good ol’ boy Jungkook who scrubs pools for a living. 

It didn’t start that way. In high school, he was a local superstar. The golden jock. The whole fucking trope, baby. With titties of all caliber following him everywhere. Boy did love him some pussy. Dicks, too. He loved everything to do with sex, drugs and rock’n’roll.

He believed himself invincible and it was only a matter of time before he mingled with the wrong crowd. Only back then, he thought of them as friends. His bros for life.

Well.

Now, he cleans pools - the only kind of gig he can scrounge up nowadays, what with a criminal record and whatnot - and trusts no bro. 

And when he’s not cleaning pools, he’s stuck at the garage being bossed around by a dirtbag who happens to be his uncle. His uncle, Sunmu, hates his guts - one of those stupid homophobic fucks who can’t mind their own fucking business. Needless to say, no love lost.

As much as Jungkook wants to punch his stupid teeth out - what’s left of them anyhow - he needs the money and it’s not like his uncle can do much more than run his smelly farthole of a mouth. Which he does. At lengths. The dude just never shuts up. Until one day, Jungkook made him shut up - even his golden-boy patience has its limits. And the dude blew up, called the police, the neighbors came a-running, the whole nine yards.

One hell of a shitshow, that night.

So now, Jungkook has taken to bringing guys to fuck in his garage instead. Totally intentional. He knows the geezer, like the sick fuck he is, had cameras installed all over for his own perverse pleasure. So Jungkook lets him enjoy it while he can.

‘Cause once the summer ends, Jungkook will burn down his fucking shack and hit the road, because he’s this close to being done with the shitfucks that are hell bent on ruining his life.

Another day. Another mindless grind.

Luckily for him, the client has vacated the house for the day, leaving their big pool in his capable hands. A much welcome break from those rich fucks being all smug and pissy and all up in his grill about every little nothing. 

Rich tits always think they know everything.

Not to mention their shitty kids running around, destroying his equipment and yapping his ear off. Or worse yet, their old haggy wives flashing their saggy tits at him - goodness gracious, does his face say he’s into wrinkled-ass pussy or something?

He thinks the fuck not.

Jungkook plops down on a deck chair and pops a can of coke open, taking a long chug. When he doesn’t have people looming over his ass, he prefers taking things slow. At his own pace. That’s what he’s all about. 

As much as he could wrap things up faster and call it a day, he’s not looking forward to trudging back to the garage. Sunmu the dipshit would be there, of course, nagging at him with this shit or that and he’d rather chill out here - the house is off-limits, locked tight, but the scenery is gorgeous. The house sits on a cliff, with the pool area overlooking the city below. 

It’s private and quiet and damn therapeutic. Like, he could just close his eyes and pretend it’s all his. That he’s not a broke-ass dude about to keel over any day now, but someone who is in control of his life. 

And he does just that. Closes his eyes and leans back, cradling the coke to his chest like one does a lover.

Mind blank of any thought.

The sky above crackles in warning, too close for comfort. And it wakes up goosebumps along his skin as he jostles awake from his little moment of inner peace. His hands flap around, knocking his coke over - it drips all over his tank top. 

Nice, Jungkook thinks. 

Of-fucking-course, it must rain today of all days. He scrambles up to his feet, ready to start hauling all the gear back into his truck when IT happens.

At first, he is not even sure what IT even is. One moment, he’s one grouchy mess, spewing dozens of profanities at no one in particular while tugging at his stained top in a retarded attempt to shake the mess off. And the next-

Something, fairly massive and spherical, materializes a few inches above the pool before plunging into water like a dead weight. Jungkook can only manage an undignified squawk before the impact wave sends him flying into the thorny shrubs framing the pool.

Mother-fucker.

When he drags his ass back from the shrubs, drenched from head to toe and covered in scratches, all he knows is that his stained shirt is the least of his problems now, because this…

What the fuck is this? he thinks, staring agog at the offender, hogging the pool now.

It looks like…something.

Maybe a futuristic car or a flying vessel of some sort. He has no clue, really. What it is or where it came from, but it’s here, right in his face, obstructing his work. Like a bastard.

He’ll have to call up a tow truck or something to pluck this sucker out, which will take forever and there go his plans for Friday night out.

Jungkook walks around the pool, inspecting the strange contraption from all sides. It’s slick and round and very, very chrome. Perhaps - a submarine. Some ultra-slick technology with masking abilities. Which apparently can fly, but not very well, otherwise, how the fuck it’d ended up stuck in his pool.

Those rich fucks and their stupid malfunctioning toys, eh. 

Jungkook sighs and kicks the empty coke can lying about. It flies off towards the pod, ricocheting right off its shiny cask with a sharp clank. And now he has even more trash to dredge up from the puddle bellow. What joy.

As he is about to roll over and wail in self-pity, the pod wakes up with a tremor, sending shallow ripples over the water. Jungkook freezes, frantically thinking over his choices - his gut reaction is to hightail the fuck out of here, because the thing is starting to show signs of life and it doesn’t sit well with Jungkook, not one bit.

He better scram and scram fast. Fuck the money and his uncle - especially his uncle - no one told him scrubbing pools involved close encounters of the third kind.

He makes to do just that but doesn’t make it too far as he bumps into someone, loosing his balance and sending them both to the ground. With a groan, he opens his eyes to stare at the unfortunate soul who had to bear the brunt of the fall on their- his. 

It’s definitely a he. A he so stunning Jungkook’s jaw goes slack and his brain radio-silent. Meanwhile, the he doesn’t waste any time making the most of their proximity as he slithers his hands around Jungkook’s neck and presses against him in a soft sweet kiss.

A supernova goes off at the back of his skull. 

It was awesome.

“Hello,” the other says, a quality to his voice that is out of this world. He must be out of this world, because how?

“I’m Jimin.”

“Hi,” Jungkook says.

A dumb grin takes over his face.

He’s tingly all over. He thinks he’s in love. 

“You’re gorgeous, Jimin-ah. Will you marry me?”

“Marry?” Jimin says tentatively as if testing the word on his tongue. His lips are pretty and full, forming a perpetual pout. It’s adorable. “I can’t marry. I need to mate.”

“Oh.” That throws Jungkook for a loop, as his heart swells with emotion. “Mate who?”

“You,” Jimin smiles. “Serendipity has chosen you as the most suitable candidate within this quadrant of our galaxy. We’re compatible.”

“Wow,” Jungkook whispers. He understands jack shit, but it does feel like serendipity, doesn't it. Just a moment ago, he was one miserable son of a bitch and now…he’s the luckiest son of a bitch in the whole fucking quadrant of their galaxy. 

“You do know I’m scrubbing pools for a living, right?”

He props himself up on his hands, hovering over the gorgeous Jimin and eyeing him like a candy on a stick. Jimin has pretty dainty hands. They are always in motion, feelings up Jungkook’s arm muscles, bulging all prettily just for him - this shameless little minx.

“I know everything about you,” Jimin says, his voice washing over Jungkook’s mind like a gentle summer tide.

Turns his brain all mush-mush. 

“Every second of your waking moment. Every dream, every thought you’ve had. Serendipity has shown me all of it.”

Whomever this Serendipity is, Jungkook hopes it didn’t show every single thought he had. After a certain age, they’d gotten rather repetitive and tended to fixate mostly on things below the belt - which is not the image of himself he wants to project into this world. 

“You’re thinking too much,” Jimin purrs, tapping his temple lightly.

His hands wind up in Jungkook’s hair, massaging the scalp and down his neck. His touches are flitting, almost shy and it kindles longing in Jungkook like never before. It tramples all of the questions budding in his head. Melting reason away. Before he knows they’re kissing again and it plays out like a dream. 

He’s doing something, but he’s not really in control. It feels good. Peaceful, he’s in a safe place. Jimin’s touches are weightless and tender as he maps out his body with the very tips of his fingers. 

Like he can reach everywhere - can touch anywhere.

The moment something prods his mind, gentle and soothing - akin to a light breeze caressing the leaves - Jungkook shivers. Falls under. A feeling like no other. Floating, like a little air bubble. 

It’s gone as sudden as it came and Jungkook finds himself yearning.

“We can’t do it here,” Jimin says as they both move upright in sync. He grabs Jungkook’s hand. “Let’s go. Serendipity will have to stay here for now.”

“Serendipity?” Jungkook asks, shaking off the drowsiness as his brain slowly kicks back into gear. “You mean that pod thing?”

“Don’t call her ‘a thing’,” Jimin chides. “She has feelings. Quite a temper, too.”

“Damn, a she-pod with feelings”.

They’re standing now with Jimin plastered against his chest and nuzzling his mighty pec. Not awkward at all. 

“She’s a ship. The most intelligent ship in the whole galaxy. Completely self-aware,” Jimin says, exploring the vastness of Jungkook’s chest with his curious palms now. Jungkook starts to notice a certain obsession here of a tactile nature, but can’t find it in himself to complain. “Be kind to her.”

“I am kind,” Jungkook says. “I’m like...wait, who are you?”

“I’m Jimin.”

“Okay,” Jungkook nods. “But what kind of Jimin are you? Where did you come from? You’re not with the Joneses here, are you?”

With the burden of rational thinking, Jungkook slumps into a realization that he has questions. And he must ask them. 

“No, I’m from space,” Jimin says like it’s not big deal. “We need to go,” he commands, taking charge and dragging Jungkook along.

“Space? Wow,” Jungkook says. “That’s, ah, nice, I guess. Never been myself, what with the radiation and minus fuck-ton degrees, you know. Transportation kinda sucks, too. I don’t know if you’re aware but we’re kinda still in the stone age or whatever, but, ehm...remember when I was lying on top of you, with our private parts perfectly aligned? That was nice too, wanna, ehm, do that again?”

“Here is not safe,” Jimin says and at least, it’s not a no. “Serendipity can hide herself well enough, but it’s a matter of time before he tracks me down. And if that happens, I don’t want him to track me down right next to her.”

“Who’s he?” 

“Just a man who never gives up what’s his.”

“You mean, like, ex-boyfriend?” Jungkook asks, swallowing down an annoying spike of jealousy. “Do you even have boyfriends in space?”

“I meant Serendipity, not me,” Jimin says. “And yes, we do have boyfriends up there in space. You don’t have to worry though, he’s been mated for the past five hundred years. He’s that boring.”

Jungkook lets out a low whistle.

“If his mate looks anything like you, that’s understandable.”

#jikook #jikook au #personas au

[aurora-australis-tumbles]

49+60 for Phrack plleeaasseee 🙏

Fake Married + Poorly Timed Confession

For you, friend? Of course! 😘

P.S. Clearly I’m not even pretending to keep these short anymore. 😂

———————

Jack Robinson didn’t generally rank criminals, but if he did this one would be very near the bottom of his list. Because this criminal — a blackmailer who targeted married men, lured them into compromising situations, and then extorted them with the photographs — had created a situation where he was forced to play the role of Phryne Fisher’s husband.

Bloody bastard.

Undercover and annoyed, Jack sipped his drink and waited for Phryne to return to the table. She was off powdering her nose, again, in the hopes of allowing their unknown suspect time to approach Jack while he was alone.

So far the only person to approach him was their overeager waiter, checking to see if his “wife” needed anything.

Jack took another sip of his wine and sighed, then froze as an elegant arm wound over his shoulder and down his chest.

“Why so glum, darling?” she simpered, lips far, far too close to his ear.

“My wife keeps abandoning me,” he muttered and she laughed before retaking her seat, raising a hand to flag down their waiter and ask about the state of their dinner.

The restaurant was busy tonight, which was good for the case. The blackmailer liked it busy, easy cover for his dirty dealings. But Jack would really rather the kitchen got a wriggle on — lunch had been a long time ago.

The waiter promised dinner would be out soon, before offering to top off her drink on the house.

Jack’s drink was ignored.

Once the waiter was gone, Phryne dropped the affected voice and leaned in to address him.

“Alright, out with it, Jack. Why is Mr Collins so unhappy?”

Oh. Yes. And they were here as Mr and Mrs Collins because Phryne found it hilarious.

Damn bloody bastard blackmailer.

“I’m not unhappy,” he told her, slightly defensive. “I’m hungry.”

Also, he thought, but didn’t say, when you suggested dinner after Christmas in July, this is not what I’d had in mind.

Phryne looked unconvinced, but didn’t press it for which he was grateful.

“Alright,” she said instead, “do you want to hear what I found out in the ladies’ room?”

“Is it case related?” he asked. He didn’t really care either way, but thought he should at least offer the pretense of professionalism.

“Mmmm,” she confirmed. “The attendant asked me how long we’d been married. I think she’s in on it too, Jack, fishing for information on whether or not you’re likely to stray. I think we should put a constable on her after we leave, see where she goes.”

Jack nodded his agreement, then, for no particular reason except he was curious, asked, “What did you tell her?”

“What did I tell who?” Phryne queried, her attention already back on the crowd.

“What did you tell the attendant?”

“Oh. I told her it just in the last year,” Phryne answered, only half paying attention to him, a large man by the bar receiving the rest.

“When?” he inquired, in case he needed the information later.

Phryne craned her neck to get a better view of the man. “Um, December 19th. Said we’d eloped right before my birthday.”

Jack took another sip of his wine and frowned. December 19th? That was during…

“You told her we got married during the Foyle Case?”

THAT got her attention. Phryne turned around and, to his absolute astonishment, blushed. Really, truly, blushed.

“Oh, I… well, yes. It just came to mind.”

And stammered. Phryne Fisher blushed and stammered. He didn’t even think she was capable of such things. What on earth…

“Why?” he asked, his focus now well and truly on the shocking pink of her cheeks.

“I…” She bit her bottom lip. “It’s an important date, that’s all.”

“The 19th? At the risk of repeating myself… why?”

“You’ll laugh,” she said quietly.

Jack put down his drink, intending to make a quip, but stopped when he saw her face — she had gone from adorably flustered to actually troubled fast, and it shook him.

“Phryne…” He reached out and tentatively took her hand. “I promise, I won’t.”

She looked at him carefully, then blew out a breath. “December 19th was the day we walked into that room at the station and I found your… wall.”

“My wall?” He looked at her in confusion for a moment, before he realized what she meant. “Oh the notes. Why would that stand out? I mean, it was solid policework, but…”

She stared at him like he had two heads.

“Jack, that day… my sister’s killer was on the loose, I’d just found my friends drugged, my daughter was missing…” She swallowed and held his hand tight.

“I was at sea and you pulled me to shore. That room… your work.” She rolled her eyes, and he was gutted to see tears in them as she did. “I take care of people, Jack. And I love it, I do. It’s who I am. But that day… that day you took care of me. Without asking anything in return. And I’ve never forgotten how that made me feel.” She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand before letting go, blinking back the tears and regaining her Phryne Fisher composure. “Right. So, as I said, an important date. And as good as any for a fake anniversary, don’t you think?”

Jack looked at her, dumbstruck. He had had no idea. Now it was his turn to swallow. “I was just doing my job,” he said, his voice rough even to his own ears.

She smiled at him, far too knowing even now. “You keep telling yourself that.”

She was right of course, but he hadn’t wanted to admit it then and he wasn’t sure he was ready to now. Instead he deflected, a move he was far more comfortable with. He took another sip of his wine to steady himself. “I wouldn’t think you’d like that, being taken care of.”

She shook her head. “Generally not, no. But as it turns out, in the right situation, by the right person, I don’t mind it so much.”

She shrugged, attempting to keep her words light, but he could see what that confession cost her.

So he decided to make an ill-timed one of his own.

Without looking at her, he put down his napkin and pushed his chair out a bit. “We should go. The operation is a bust.”

Phryne tilted her head in confusion. “Why?”

Jack turned to meet her gaze. “Because no one with eyes could look at us now and think I’d ever be unfaithful to you.”

Phryne smiled at him, reached over, and straightened his tie. “You do act the part of the doting partner well, Jack.”

“As I told you the last time, I’m not acting anymore.” She raised her eyebrows and he smirked. “I’m sticking to crime, remember?” Then he stood and offered her his arm, which she took, standing herself.

“Well if we’re leaving without dinner, may I suggest a rain check? Perhaps tomorrow night at mine? I believe Dot has evening plans with Cec and Bert.”

“Mrs Collins, it’s a date.”

| Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP |

#mfmm fanfic drabble #ask meme #fanfic trope mash-up #phrack

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Wedded Woes [6] PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: Trelawny talked up a big game at a scenic boardinghouse and, playing some newly weds, you and Arthur are paying the price for it. WARNINGS: Cliche tropes ahoy? NOTE: This is a bit of a filler and establishment to the final three chapters coming up. I’m terrible at ending things and I’m working on making sure it doesn’t seem rushed, but hopefully it’ll be good for all of those who have been following this!

You couldn’t sleep. 

Maybe it was the heat of the room or the fact that your mind kept running over the events of the day, further pushing guilt and frustration into the back of your mind. Arthur had wandered back in shortly after you had settled in for the night, settling in himself without a word and you were fairly relieved about that fact. However, well, maybe some conversation would at least further set this whole thing at ease. If only for the night. You kept wandering back to that study with the strange books, you just knew that would hold something valuable for you all. It was a matter of getting it, something you knew you would have to talk to Trelawny and Arthur about. 

That was probably one of the few things you felt positive about. 

Everything else was mixing terribly in your mind, playing out behind your eyelids. You kept going back to that drunk, wondering what he managed to get out of all of that, how quickly Arthur had been willing to step in. You knew he was protective, some of the other women explaining how they wanted him along from time to time to ward off people who caught them trying to rob them. You had often preferred to work alone, not having to watch someone’s back but you also knew it meant someone wasn’t watching yours. Throughout this whole thing, you found yourself not minding the idea of someone else being able to step in to create opportunities or even pick up the odd mess you made of things. 

There was also that damn kiss. 

You really were confused on where the hell it came from or why it happened, and much more on the fact that you hadn’t really minded it deep down. It had been a while since you had let people in to do those things, or found people who wanted to. Yet...well, this wasn’t that. You realized you were thinking like there were feelings involved, and there just wasn’t any way. There had been some interest in him on your end when you had first joined, Arthur catching your eye but it was distant and you had been pretty discouraged once some of the other women caught on. Too busy with the gang, hung up on things, it wouldn’t work out. A while ago you had resolved to let that go, and for the most part you had noticed it had been fading but this whole thing was just pushing that back to the surface. The events of the evening felt like you were digging a shovel into the earth you had buried that in. Feeling him sleeping so close while your mind was moving a mile a minute about him and what happened, you could admit to feeling envious about that he even could. 

So, trying not to sigh too loudly, you shifted up to toss the blanket off yourself and wandered through the darkness over toward the window. Fiddling with it for a moment, you managed to get it open, leaving the noises of the night to leak in from outside. A couple crickets, the wind rustling the trees lightly that blew a soothing bit of air against your face and arms. Curiously, you leaned out to glance down, noticing the side of the property. You let out a slightly amused huff--no, you weren’t going to risk a two story drop to get out of this situation. 

Still, the fresh air was nice and you could enjoy it for a few moments without worrying who was watching and saying what for a while, sitting yourself down on the chair and tucking your hand under your chin as you leaned against the small table. 

You had been begging to go on something bigger than pick pocketing from the local saloon and now you really just wanted to get back to camp. Still, the end was in sight, at least you were sure of it. 

“What’re you doin’?”

The question came so suddenly and from so close by that you couldn’t help the jump, hands coming down on the table as you turned, wide-eyed before your eyes adjusted to see the form of Arthur a step or two from where you were sitting. Exhaling heavily, you relaxed enough to rub your eyes. 

“Christ’s sake, Arthur,” you muttered, “It’s dark as pitch, you could’ve warned me.” 

“I said your name, you didn’t hear me? Woke up to you lookin’ like you were gonna jump out the window.” 

“I thought about it…” you admitted with some mild humor, “or at least climbing down the other windows.” 

You heard him huff lightly, but didn’t say anything further as you watched him settle into the chair across from you. The action caused you to raise your eyebrows, the minimal light from the window allowing you to see his face a little at least. A part of you was expecting him to just turn back around and go back to bed, considering how he had handled everything a couple hours ago before he fell asleep. With your thoughts, you weren’t sure what you preferred most. You were torn between just asking him about what happened that evening and just letting it get shoved back inside like everything else. Yet, a tired part of you kind of just wanted to tell him everything if only to know for sure if there was just no way. He had kissed you, much as you had suggested the pretend one at first but…

“This is gonna sound out of the blue, but did you bring some cigarettes?” he asked, causing you to furrow your brows with a small smile touching your expression. 

“No?”

“Didn’t give much thought to take anythin’ out of my satchel before I left damn thing with Trelawny,” he replied, almost in a grumble, “Didn’t even take my journal.” 

“I only took my gun,” you replied, catching the rise of eyebrows in his expression and chuckled, “I’m not planning on using it, but I know better by now to not have some fall back plan if things go wrong.” 

“Guess I can’t say anythin’ wrong about that…” 

You offered him a light shrug, glancing out of the window before you noticed the tightness in your gut. Really, the last thing you wanted to talk about was cigarettes, but you were still trying to figure out if this was something to let go or ask about. Sleepiness was sitting heavily on your mind, it left you talking a little more freely but you still pressed your lips together at the thought. However, you found your gaze shifting back toward him as Arthur sighed, leaning his arms against the table somewhat as he scratched at the back of his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he stated, “for earlier.” 

“What part?” you asked, having an idea on what he was talking about, but wanted some confirmation.

“Kissin’ you,” he replied, Arthur glancing up to meet your gaze, “I...I can’t tell you what I was thinkin’, don’t think there was much of it goin’ on. I was just...thinkin’ they wasn’t gonna buy that pretend one and...I overstepped. Whole thing’s got me confused.” 

You hated the way your stomach dropped at hearing that. 

“The con?” 

“Sure,” he returned with a nod, “But…feels like Dutch is tryin’ to shove dirt into an old wound with this whole thing.” 

You furrowed your brows, watching him carefully as he seemed to be interested in whatever he could see out of the window from where he was sitting. Whatever he was trying to say, you didn’t want to push it but it was hard not to tell that he was warring with his thoughts for a few moments. Arthur was hard to read on most days, but speaking plainly like this you could tell he was trying to piece something together. 

“I...I was almost married. Once. Didn’t work out, guess we was...too different or I wouldn’t change. It’s...a long while ago, now. She married someone her daddy approved of and I haven’t heard from her since…” he replied, shaking his head lightly before glancing back toward you, “So, I...guess this whole thing’s got me thinkin’ about how that whole thing ended and I’ve been feelin’ foolish for how frustrated this has been makin’ me. Just a con, ain’t supposed to be nothin’.” 

“...I’m sorry,” you replied, shaking your head, “I...this whole thing’s got me turned around a bit, myself.” 

“What ways?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious. Ah, christ. 

You let out a sigh, debating on what to say. I’m just confused because of these little feelings I’ve had for you since I had first joined that I shoved down in belief that nothing would come of it. That I have to share a bed with you and pretend you’re my husband like that won’t have them returning from the grave. It didn’t have to be that dramatic, but you could feel that sitting on your tongue. Still, you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. 

“I’ve lived...a lonely life,” you remarked, “These days are the days I’ve spent the most around other people that I didn’t intend to rob, and of course I couldn’t stay in the same places for long. I haven’t shared a bed with anybody since I was a kid, much as I have to pretend there’s this little fence between us but...I don’t know, it’s all strange.” 

It wasn’t a lie, but it was far from what you really wanted to say. It...it wasn’t going to amount to anything, he was already apologizing for showing some genuine romantic affection. If it was, who knows who he was kissing. Might not have even been you in his mind. The thoughts put a tightness to your chest, very similar to the feelings you got when you were told about how having feelings for him wouldn’t go nowhere in the first place. It had been true, too, you figured. There wasn’t a sudden interest regardless, no sudden declarations that it was only you who could sway him like something from those romance novels Mary-Beth read. 

It was frustrating that you still wanted to see. It wasn’t hard to miss how he carried himself around camp, how he treated those closest to him. Even throughout this whole thing, outside of a tense moment here and there, he had been cooperative and had your back…

“Thank you,” you stated, letting out a breath, “For sharing that with me, of course, but also getting between that man downstairs. Usually I can handle things like that with some harsh words and a taking a swing if the message isn’t clear, but causing a scene here...well, I appreciate that.” 

“Well, sure,” he replied with a nod, “Saw him grabbin’ at you like he were gonna take you hostage, the hell’d he want anyway?”

“A dance,” you replied, “At least, he probably figured that’s what he was planning on starting with. Wouldn’t take no for any reason.” 

“Guess stubborn bastards are around everywhere, silver spoon or not…” 

“Guess so. Still, thank you,” you repeated with a small sigh, rising from your chair, “I...I forgive you for the kiss. It was just a thing. We should go back to--I should go back to bed.”

“Sure…” 

You didn’t really spare him much of a look as you walked back toward the bed, knowing it was another thing to trap you in your thoughts but with the exhaustion pulling at the back of your mind. Settling yourself back down, you took some ease from the fact that he hadn’t returned with you yet, not wanting to cast him a glance as you shut your eyes and tried to fall asleep. This time, it was fairly successful, not noticing when Arthur had settled himself back down and curled up slightly on his side, facing your back. 

It was definitely later in the day by the time you awoke again, jolting slightly at the sound of knocking. 

You noticed that you were at least alone in the bed, though Arthur was still in the room as he was the one to wander toward the door. Though, relief hit you as Trelawny wandered in, glancing around himself before his eyes landed on you. Thankfully, you hadn’t fully undressed the night before, though with how warm you were it was a decision you were paying for. 

“My dear, are you still in bed?” he asked, causing you to wave a sleepy hand toward him as you rubbed at your eyes. 

“Long night…” you muttered, sitting up fully as you looked toward him. Arthur was dressed for the day, some plates sitting on the table that suggested he had been up for a while. You hadn’t heard him once. 

“Certainly seems so,” Trelawny returned, glancing toward Arthur, “Though, while you two have been taking a late morning, I have come across what we’ve been waiting for. Mr. Dupoint is keeping his money in the study.” 

“In the books,” you confirmed to the curious glances of the two men in the room, “I did some digging, I’m very certain it’s in some of the books I’ve found.” 

“You wasn’t wrong about him bein’ a paranoid bastard,” Arthur commented, watching as Trelawny nodded lightly as you could almost see the gears turning in his head. Really, you could feel some relief settling at the fact that finally something was being done outside of playing this game with the owners in hopes that they would slip up and say something truly valuable. You were starting to believe you or someone else was going to slip up and say something that would blow the cover. 

“Well, then I believe a good distraction is in order,” Trelawny stated, straightening up, “If I can...corner them both with my poor distraught cousin, we could possibly have Arthur here break into the study and steal the money.” 

“What am I distraught over?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Your marriage, of course,” he replied, glancing between you and Arthur, “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the both of you certainly aren’t convincing them of a long lasting marriage. However, that’s not impossible to work with. We could leave within the day, bounty in hand and they would be none the wiser.” 

“It’s not a bad idea,” you said as you shifted to sit on the side of the bed, rubbing at your eyes, “I’m not exactly looking like I’m sleeping peacefully beside the love of my life.” 

“And I’m just supposed to know what books this feller is keepin’ his money in?” Arthur asked, glancing between the two of you. 

“They’re bulky,” you stated, spreading your hands apart slightly in front of you, “About...this wide, don’t have titles on them and obviously don’t feel like books. Gregory’s bein’ smart but he’s not exactly hiding them very well.”

“It’s settled!” Trelawny stated, hands resting on his hips as he turned to glance toward you, “Once you’re ready, we could do this within the night and be gone by the morning.”

“Wonderful,” you returned with a nod, Trelawny bidding another goodbye before he left the room. You let out a slow sigh once the door was shut, rising from the bed and walking toward the case. “I don’t know what his plan is, it’s a piss poor honeymoon of two days but…” 

“I don’t think we’re ever supposed to know his plans,” Arthur remarked, turning his back as you set about getting dressed for the day. “You alright? Hell of a sleep you had.” 

“Sure,” you replied, situating yourself into the outfit you had picked, “I had given up on getting to sleep last night. I’m just relieved that the end’s in sight.” 

Arthur hummed in agreement. “You’re sure ‘bout them books?”

“Yeah, very certain,” you replied with a nod, turning toward him before you reached down into your case and produced the lock pick Trelawny had given you the day before, “Here. Figure it’s quieter than just giving you my gun.” 

“Wouldn’t count that out…” Arthur returned, taking the lock pick from you and tucked it into a pocket, “All this drama for some damn books.” 

“Yeah…” you stated around a sigh, shutting your case as you pressed your lips into a thin line. A part of you just wanted to get out of this whole thing, go back to something fairly normal but...well, you hadn’t been lying to yourself the night before. You weren’t sure what to do about the feeling that sat in your gut and chest, how quickly it would fade again after everything. If it would. 

You really didn’t want to think about it at the moment, readying yourself for whatever Trelawny had planned for the climax of this whole thing. Once the money was yours and you were far away from this place, you could then address the thoughts circling in your head about Arthur and where this would all end up.

#my writing. #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

[wiener-soldiers]

hallelujah (part ii) - steve trevor

summary: After being a recent thief-turned-spy, you find yourself working side by side with a certain American air force captain. However, the workplace romance trope was getting really old, but it was hard not to fall far your spy partner, Steve Trevor.

words: 2,155 (i didn’t intend for it to be this long)

warnings: more angsty than i originally intended mY BAD

taglist: @sebastianstanfoundmymixtape​ @httpmcrvel​ @lionheo04​ @stupendoussciencenaturepanda​

a/n: so i was originally going to discontinue this series but ive been getting a lot of positive support for it and i found the inspo to write this again!

Your faith was strong, you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof,

 the beauty and the moonlight over-through ya. 

She tied you to your kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair.

And from your lips, she drew a Hallelujah.

As the months progressed, you and Steve got closer. As promised, he gave your family security and your brother Jack was attending fifth grade at a private school in London. You saw your family often, given your job. Whenever you had a spare moment, you traveled as fast as you could to your home, often offering to bring Steve along with you and drop him off wherever his family lived before you took the taxi home.

“You need to see family too, Steve,” you would always tell him when he refused. The both of you were standing in the lobby of the office that you and Steve used as a base of sorts.

“Nah, I don’t have any family in the city. My folks still live in the US, and my fiancée lives in Paris.”

“Fiancée?” you ask, confused. Steve never talked about being in a relationship, or engaged for that matter. As the two of you continued to work together, gathering intel and infiltrating secret meetings of the Germans, you had began harboring a (not so) small crush on the blond haired-blue eyed man. You admired his dedication for his work and his country, but also his compassion. Really, it was hard not to fall for him. So your heart wavered slightly when you asked him about his ‘fiancée’.

“Her name is Sarah. I--uh, don’t talk about her often. She used to live in London, but moved to Paris for her modeling career,” he responds shyly, casting his gaze downwards as his cheeks begin to heat up.

“Oh,” was your only reply.

“I just don’t want her getting caught up in this whole ‘spy’ business, you know? She know I’m in the army, but she thinks I’m just stationed in London, not a spy,” he explains once he realizes your lack of responses. “If she found out that I shake hands with Germans and steal their information, she’d flip and basically put me on house arrest,” he jokes, trying to resolve the awkward air.

But you can’t find it in yourself to laugh, “I see.”

You and Steve stare at each other uncomfortably for a few seconds before he clears his throat, “So I’ll see you back in a few days? I heard you were taking a few days off for your mother’s birthday.”

“Actually,” Etta calls from behind Steve (you swear that woman can teleport), “the two of you just got orders to go undercover at a weapons dealer’s party. They suspect he is selling experimental weapons to the Germans. The party starts at seven at a high end hotel downtown.”

You audibly sigh, “So much for my vacation.”

Etta gives you a sympathetic look, “Sorry, darling.”

“It’s alright Etta, there’s nothing we can do about it now. Send us the details of the party and our covers and alibis,” you tell her before walking away, the heel of your boots clicking on the floor.

“Where are you going?” Steve calls after you.

“You think I’m going to a party dressed like this? Pick me up at my apartment at seven, Trevor. Don’t be late,” you call as you turn around and walk backwards to look at him while adding, “And be sure to wear a red bow-tie or a pocket square of something. I want us to match.”

Sure, you had a crush on your partner. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t get the job done in style.

You and Steve walk hand in up the stairs to the hotel the party was located at. The weapons dealer had put out that the party was a “party to celebrate the successes of science,” but in reality it was a cover up for the dealing of weapons.

Your mission was to gather as much intelligence about the new weapons and positively identify the weapons dealer, the German buyer, and any other potential buyer. 

Tonight, you and Steve were not Y/N Y/L/N and Steve Trevor, you were Mrs. and Dr. Barrow, and potential buyers of these weapons.You had flown in from France a few nights before and were currently looking for new weapons to buy as representatives of a French private security company. Your deep red night gown sashayed as you walked up the steps leading to the grand entrance of the hotel, arms linked with Steve. As you neared the entrance, you said a small greeting to the young man at the door before you fixed your audacious curls. Steve began to step inside before you stopped him mid-step and pulled him back through the open door, bringing him to the side.

“What?” he asks, glancing around the entrance and fixing his fake glasses.

Your reached forward and straightened his matching deep red pocket square, “We have to make this look believable, Dr. Steve Barrow. Nothing screams ‘married couple’ like a wife straightening her husband’s pocket square. And you should’ve went with the bow tie,” you note after you glance down at Steve’s bare collar, the top two buttons undone.

“I thought it looked tacky.”

“Fair point. Bow ties are more of a mathematician thing.”

The two of gave each other one more comforting glance, getting lost in each other’s eyes before Steve clears his throat, offering you his arm to link.

“Alors ma cher, vient avec moi s’il vous plaît. On a une grande challenge pour complètera,” he smiles softly at you, reverting to his French accent as part of your cover story. You had always wondered where he learned such believable French, but you now figured it was because he spent so much time with his soon to be wife in Paris.

“D’accord, Monsieur Barrow. Allons y,” you reply, your red-stained lips mirroring the smirk on his, though yours had more weight behind them. Despite your crush on the handsome man, you couldn’t help but feel like you were betraying his fiancée, despite never meeting her, by pretending to play Steve’s wife. However your feelings needed to be pushed aside as you had a job to do, so the two of you trek into the luxurious hotel and the recon mission began.

The party dragged on for another hour or so and you and Steve were busy as ever collecting intel from unsuspecting party-goers and using sly movements to figure out if the person was friend or foe.

Around eleven when most people were inebriated, the party shifted to the roof of the hotel, where a bar had been set up and the soft jazz played from the live band cut through the cool night air.

You were clutched on to Steve’s arm as he strolled around the rooftop, trying to shield yourself from the cool London breeze. Goosebumps run up your arms as you let out a shiver. Maybe such a revealing dress was not the wisest choice on a cool evening. However your shiver did not go unnoticed by Steve.

“Est-ce que tu es froide, ma belle?”

“No,” you replied, almost too quickly. Steve stopped in front of the roof ledge to look at you, eyebrows raised. You succumbed to his confrontation, “Alright! Maybe a little...”

He chuckles before sliding the blazer off his shoulders and placing it onto yours. Though it may be caused by the ridiculous amounts of champagne or the cool night breeze, but you were certain the pink blush that started up your neck was caused by Steve’s chivalrous gesture.

“Thanks,” you whisper before turning to look out at the skyline. Most of the city was asleep, but the usual car did roll by or the sound of laughter in the distance made the city seem lively.

“It’s sort of beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask out loud, not really expecting an answer from the man next to you.

“Yeah, yeah it is,” he hums softly. With your gaze locked on the city below, you didn’t notice Steve’s gaze locked on you. The wind blew your hair sideways, making some of your curls dance above your face. The moonlight reflected a soft glow onto your skin, as your eyes reflected the yellow street lights down below. Steve could’ve sworn that he could stare at you forever as you bathed in the moonlight, with his jacket loosely hanging off your shoulders. How he wishes that the jacket around your shoulders was him, pulling you close and resting his chin on the top of your head.

A loud high pitched fit of female laughter broke Steve’s trance, turning to look for the source. What he saw made him freeze in his tracks.

Your fucking kidding me, was his only thought.

There she was. The tall, green-eyed blonde, with short tight curls, blood-red lips, and a tight, revealing black dress with a slit so high it left very little to the imagination. She was pressed up against a man, her leg seductively crossed in between his, one hand curled on his chest with the other holding a glass of champagne. The man had one hand wrapped around her waist, the other nursing a cigar in between his fingers.

Steve’s blood boiled. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The man leaned in, whispering something in the woman’s ear to which she responded by pressing a hard kiss to the side of his mouth, leaving a lipstick stain behind.

Steve felt betrayed and broken. The woman he thought he loved, who he proposed to, was kissing another man.

“Patricia?” he utters quietly in disbelief.

“Who?” you ask, turning to him. You notice his rigid stance and his pale face, “Steve, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

He nods towards the man and the woman snuggled up together across the roof, expression absolutely livid, “That’s...my fiancée, that’s Patricia. She said she was in Paris and she would visit next week--”

“Steve...”

“I don’t understand, why is she here? How did she get here?”

“Steve.”

“Oh my god, does she know I’m a spy? Is she here to blow my cover?!”

“Steven!” you snap at him. He whips his head towards yours, fury ridden all over his face.

“What?!”

“The man she’s with...that’s the man we positively ID-ed as the German buyer of the weapons,” you answer bleakly, gulping as you continue. “She’s affiliated with the Germans, Steve.”

“No...” he whispers in disbelief. You look up in his blue eyes, which are threatening to fill with tears.

You gently tug his arm, “Come on. Let’s go to my place. We have enough intel for one night.”

Steve is silent the entire way back to your apartment, tears softly falling on his cheeks.

It’s about one in the morning when you come back into the living room of your apartment. The minute you unlocked the front door, Steve walked in a robot-like trance to the couch in the middle of your living room. He just sat there, crying and contemplating while you placed his blazer that was still on your shoulder on the arm of the couch before you prepared yourself for bed.

Your feet padded on the cold floors as you made your way back to where Steve was sitting. In silence, you sit down beside him and stare ahead.

You sit like that for another ten minutes or so before Steve is the first to break the silence, “I didn’t know.”

You inhale, “No one could have.”

“I could have,” he insists in a monotone voice, “This is entire time I dedicated my life and my love to a woman who is sleeping with a German.”

“You and I both know that we can’t know for sure.”

He scoffs, “I know her. She always had a plan. I was her plan. She knows I’m in the military and she knows I can get her what she wants. She just needed to know where those damn Germans are.”

You open your mouth to interrupt but he continues, “And the worst part is, I don’t even know when she started seeing him. Before we started dating, or during our relationship?” When you shoot him a sympathetic look, he adds, “I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

You softly place a hand on his knee, letting him know that he is not alone. He quickly takes hold of your hand and laces his fingers with yours.

“Steve,” you start, “you can’t beat yourself up over this. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have.”

“I thought I really loved her, Y/N. We were supposed to be married, and have children, and grow old together.”

You didn’t know what to say. So you stayed silent. The only comfort you could offer him was your presence, so you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and he turned into your chest and cried.

#i am so sorry about all the pain i put my bb steve through #he!! deserves!! more!! #steve trevor #steve trevor imagine #steve trevor x reader #chris pine #chris pine imagine #chris pine x reader #wonder woman #gal gadot #dc #eliza speaks #wiener soldiers #wiener soldiers imagine

[tiny-princess-catherine]

a tiny princess’ big list of favorite games

It’s been about three years since I sat down and considered my top 10 favorite games, and I was curious to see how my tastes had changed. I love making lists, and this was really  fun! I ended up writing a whole fuckload of words about them so I’ll put them beneath a read more; feel free to read over them if you like!

Doom II is, for my money, the greatest videogame ever made. No other game has captured the purity of gameplay and design that was managed back in 1994; it’s nearly perfect in every way. Monster and weapon design encourage you to be moving constantly, never hiding behind cover but weaving between attacks. Every monster is threatening in its own way -- the deadliest enemy is the shotgun guy, one of the earliest and weakest you’ll see. Every weapon has its use in various situations (except the pistol, unfortunately). The level design was, by and large, better than the previous game, but even if you don’t like those levels, the game is infinitely moddable and tens of thousands of maps have been released over the last twenty-four years. I’ve sunk thousands and thousands of hours into the game and it absolutely never gets old. Doom II is perfection.

Chrono Trigger is a game that needs no introduction or explanation; anyone who has played JRPGs has assuredly played Chrono Trigger, and it’s much-lauded for very good reason. The characters are varied and interesting, the battle mechanics utilizing combos and positioning are compelling and encourage you to swap around characters in your party to find out what all the double and triple techs are. The plot is a masterful swerve from ‘extremely standard’ to ‘what the fuck is happening’, the prime antagonists extremely memorable (Magus, Queen Zeal, and Lavos are all much more complex than they seem at first glance, and the game fleshes them all out phenomenally), and the soundtrack puts pretty much every other one to shame. The game goes from comedy to pathos with ease, and it’s exactly long enough to finish right when it’s about to wear out its welcome. It’s a real, real good game, y’all.

Nearly the pinnacle of JRPGs, Suikoden II possesses, in my experience, by far the single most compelling story in a video game, and I think it’s largely in part because it keeps itself relatively simple. A story of war, of friends and family torn apart, allegiances shifting and loss and friendship; it never reaches further than it should nor ruins immersion for even a moment. It has some of the worst, saddest, most heartwrenching bad ends I’ve ever seen, and it was those that lingered in my mind far more than the ‘good ends’. The gameplay is fluid and a solid refinement of turn-based RPGs of the era, the spritework is beyond compare for each and every one of its 108 recruitable characters and the background art is perfect. The only real flaws it has is a bit of filler -- did we really need the Neclord subplot in Tinto? -- but it’s so minor as to not detract at all from the overall package.

I was six years old when Myst came out in 1993: my grandfather bought a new computer and Myst was a brand-new pack-in with the CD-ROM drive. From the moment I loaded it up, I was utterly blown away with the most gorgeously rendered, fully realized world I had ever seen in a videogame; keep in mind I was playing shit like SMB3 at the time, so Myst was a whole new world. It showed me that games could be so much more than what the NES could produce, it could be true worlds for me to explore. It helped me to learn how to read, hours spent in the library poring over the books there; it taught me my adoration for exploring empty, lonely places, and ultimately it was Myst that inspired me to legally change my name. Few games have had such a powerful impact on me, and it’s for that reason that I've forever loved the game (and the series that followed!) I cried and cried in simple joy when I learned about the recent kickstarter to rerelease all of the games; few things have managed to worm their way into my heart the way this humble little game did.

A much more recent addition, but no less important to me: Persona 5 was the first game in the series (including all of SMT) that I ever played, and the degree to which the fictionalized Tokyo is a world fully realized utterly blew me away. For dozens of hours, I lived with characters I came to love, I forged bonds and fought for justice, I agonized over which romantic overtures to accept (I went with Futaba my first time). The calendar and social link system is phenomenally cool to me, the battle system is fluid and intuitive, the Palaces had fun design (mostly; some exceptions exist). So deeply was I ensconced in that world that I ended up writing two hundred thousand words (so far) of fanfiction about it, as a result of one of the game’s few major flaws: for a game that seemed so willing to have the protagonist be such a blank slate and a cipher for the player, it saddened me immensely to be forced into one gender. Between that and a few other examples of somewhat socially regressive design (the gay panic scene, the treatment of Ann in some ways) I can’t say the game is perfect, but it’s awfully close to that for me.

I caught sight of the gigantic Earthbound box in a Blockbuster when I was a kid, and my curiosity demanded I rent it and see why it needed such a massive box - the answer, of course, was that it came with its own incredible strategy guide. Earthbound was my very first JRPG and welcomed me into a new kind of game I had never imagined. Fighting with numbers instead of jumping on an enemy's head! Equipment! Stats! A long, involved story that guided me through hugely diverse locations! Humor! Earthbound is a game that doesn't entirely hold up these days, gameplay-wise; there's way too much combat and there's not a lot to it, but its tone and writing remain absolutely top-notch, not to mention its soundtrack. Based on pure quality alone, Earthbound wouldn't be in my top 10, but its impact on my life is nearly more than any other game.

Guild Wars was a game before its time. It was perceived by many as a cheaper alternative to WoW, which had come out six months prior, but the comparisons between the games were never really fair. Guild Wars wasn't an MMO and didn't pretend to be one; it was a much cozier affair with many fewer people involved, the combat areas were all instanced to your party alone, and it had a massive emphasis on solo play with its NPC party member system. The story wasn't anything to write home about, the combat was effectively the same hotbar-based combat as WoW, and the level design was okay at best. All of that said, the character customization was incredible, forcing you to select only eight skills at any given time, so that along with the rest of your party, it was more like building a deck in a card game than standard class-based party composition. Its crossclassing was deep and helped to even further differentiate players from another, its mission system was memorable and fun, but what mostly makes Guild Wars stand out for me was the PvP content. Normally, PvP is something I have no love for, but the 8v8 guild battles were incredibly exciting, fast-paced, and frenetic like nothing else I've seen before or since. I fell in love with it right away and met a community of friends that lasted me for years, and ended up having another enormous impact on my life. I've spent four thousand hours in the game, enough to do literally every scrap of content offered, and still I go back every now and then to play through a mission; its systems just work so, so well. And this isn't even getting into a lot of the stuff that made it unique, like its super-customizable NPC party members, its incredible enemy AI, or the sheer uniqueness of the Mesmer class; there is a lot about the game that I just adore.

The RPG in which you don't have to kill anyone! Everyone knows about Undertale, so I'm sure I don't have to say too much about it. It took normal JRPG tropes and turned them on their head, its sense of humor and overall writing are absolutely outstanding, its characters memorable and varied, and the bullet hell gameplay a fun take on RPG combat. It marries its mechanics and plot more tightly than any other game I've ever played, its soundtrack is incredible, and its emotional moments took me all over the place; just thinking about the hug at the end of the game just makes me tear up. Past all the memes that spawned from it, Undertale is just an extremely solid game that more than lives up to the hype. Please play Undertale.

FFXIV, unlike Guild Wars, is a game that almost seems *after* its time. It came out in a post-WoW world where many MMOs had already played their hand and died, its combat isn't incredibly different from WoW and doesn't seem to have much to set it apart, especially considering it dares to ask a subscription. And yet, it has flourished to become one of the only subscription-based games remaining and has turned an incredible profit for its developers. This is all, I believe, because the game is a giant, well-crafted love letter to the whole series. Enemies, locations, plot mechanics are all deftly drawn from prior games and woven into a tapestry that clearly shows a great deal of love and affection for the previous entries. The story is phenomenal - not just for an MMO, but for games in general. The character animations, armor appearances, and glamour system make it one of the best dress up games available, and it helps that the combat is fun, the bosses true spectacle, and the developers remain wholly committed to the game, constantly releasing content every few months. It keeps a special place in my heart, again, for the people that I surrounded myself with while playing and the extremely fond memories I have of all of the things we did together ingame. FFXIV is incredible and more than just another MMO.

The last spot on my list was hotly contested, but I ended up having little choice but to give it to this bizarre, unknown little rhythm game. Thumper is incredibly unlike any other rhythm game you've ever played, however; even after I beat it I couldn't remember a single song, because it wasn't really about the music, which consisted primarily of pounding drums, howling screeches, and relentless, rising dread. The developers refer to it as 'rhythm violence', and that's an extremely apropos genre; the game is dark, heavy, and endlessly captivating. There's really no describing it, but it's an experience unlike any other. It's apparently available on VR, but I couldn't imagine playing it there - I'd have a heart attack.

#games #cat writes #lists

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Accidentally Married -  Jim Kirk x Reader

MULTICHAPTER

Pairing: Jim Kirk (AOS) x Reader  Words: 1861 Warnings: None.

Summary: Getting married when you’re drunk is a terrible and stupid decision and something you would never ever do. You have self-control after all, right? Especially when it comes to your Superior Officers. Especially when it comes to your Captain. 

A/N: I love this trope so much, so don’t judge me. Also, I know the name of the story is very creative. It’s a rather slow burn as well. I tagged a few people who are not usually on my tag list so if you don’t want me to include you, please tell me! 

Chapter 1

“I swear to every deity known in this universe, if you follow me again, I am going to ask the Captain to let me transfer to the Farragut,” you announced without looking up from your PADD when you heard the door slide open, voice thick with anger and annoyment. “I seriously can’t believe you’re upset with me! Breaking up was - oh.” 

When you finally did bother to see who had come in - it wasn’t your now ex-boyfriend standing in the room, but instead a very confused and at the same time amused looking captain. Your eyes widened, shocked that you had been caught in this room.

“The Farragut?” He asked simply and raised an eyebrow (probably spent too much time with that first officer of his) before going over to the bar.

“Yeah,” you mumbled and sat up straight on the sofa. Well, this was embarrassing on a whole new level.

Kirk shook his head in disagreement. “I take that as a personal offense. There are much better ships than her, I can tell you that. If you want, I can recommend some.”

A small - and for you -  rather awkward pause happened. Normally, you weren’t someone who got easily flustered and was shy of words, but tonight had been stressful enough and he was the Captain. The longest conversation the two of you ever had was the day he welcomed you on board. Working as an Ensign in the Engineering Department made it almost impossible for you two to cross paths.

“I wonder who got so on your nerves that you consider leaving the best and certainly most beautiful ship in the fleet.” Finally, he spoke again, and a smirk appeared on Kirks face. It irritated you. “I also wonder what you’re doing in the Seniors Crew Lounge considering you’re not part of the senior staff, Ensign Y/L/N.” 

He sounded serious but the smile told a different story and when he looked at you while pouring himself a drink, his blue eyes sparkled in mischief.

A blush crept up on your cheeks and you wished that a hole in the floor would open and swallow you whole. A few hours prior, you had been in an ugly fight with your boyfriend which resulted in a break up. You had just hoped for a little quiet time when you sneaked into the Lounge. At this time, the senior staff wasn’t usually around, especially not since most of them were on shore leave today. You just didn’t think someone would catch you.”

“I would offer you a drink but I can see you’ve already served yourself.”

By now you seriously considered just running out of the room to avoid the whole situation here.

“Don’t look so scared now, I’m not being serious,” Captain Kirk chuckled when he noticed how tense you were. He took his glass and walked over to you, sitting down on one of the couches opposite of you. “So,” he took a big gulp, “I still want an answer though.

“An answer?”

“Why are you here and not joining the others on shore leave?”

“Oh.” Telling your superior officer about your personal ongoing relationship drama was very unprofessional, you knew that. You were aware that Kirk cared about his crew, but you had figured it was only to a certain degree. “Relationship stuff,” you simply said. “I just needed some time for myself.”

“I see.” He nodded, sensing that you didn’t want to talk about it.

“I can go now. I’m sorry, I know I’m not allowed to be here,” you turned off your PADD and were ready to get up when Kirk shook his head.

“I’m not sure if you’re even allowed on this deck.”

You frowned. “Why not?”

“You work in Engineering. We never see you guys, apart from when you get drunk on shore leave or have to visit the Medbay.”

The last sentence earned Kirk an eye roll from you. “Right, your tendency to exaggerate things is not that developed, is it?”

“I’m right though.”

”No, you’re not.”

“I always am.”

“Maybe on the bridge.”

“Do you already feel a bit dizzy, Ensign?” He tilted his head while squinting his eyes, pretending to examine you. “This deck is so far up, some people can’t handle heights very well.”

“Medbay is one deck higher and you already pointed out how frequently we are there.”

“That’s true. I’ll write a letter to Starfleet. They should change that in future ships.”

“A letter? That’s very 20th century of you.” . 

“What can I say, I’m an old fashioned guy.”

“Pff,” you blew a raspberry and shook your head.

“Speechless?” Kirk teased. 

“Nope, just bored of you.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled. “But no, you don’t have to leave. Stay, please. It’s fine.” Kirk leaned back and closed his eyes for a brief second. He looked tired, you thought. “How did you get in here? You’re not supposed to have the codes.”

That was a tricky question. You got them from Pavel, also not someone who was supposed to have them in the first place, after he lost a bet. You weren’t sure where he got them from. Probably Scotty.

“I’m not sure I can answer that question, sir.” You took a small sip of your whiskey. The alcohol burned in your throat as you swallowed it.

“Probably Scotty, am I right?”

You stayed silent but couldn’t stop the corners of your lips from curling upwards. Jim, still watching you, noticed it immediately and smiled back at you. “That man talks too much.”

“I didn’t say it was him.”

“You smiled. That’s enough of an answer.”

“I smile a lot. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Well, it’s the first time I’ve seen you smiling since I walked in here, so you’re not smiling nearly as much as you think you do.”

“Tonight is different.”

“How so?”

This time, you didn’t immediately reply. Instead you turned your gaze to the window, looking at the people outside who always seemed to be working in this dockyard. Day or night.

“Because of the relationship stuff you mentioned?” Kirk asked.

You looked back at him and let out a soft sigh. “You are very curious, aren’t you.”

He shrugged. “I am, I guess. Always have been. Sorry, you clearly don’t want to talk about it.”

“Nope, not really.” You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. “I broke up with my boyfriend. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

There was a small pause before Jim agreed with a simple nod.

“Why are you still on board?” It was an attempt from you to try and change the topic. “I hear this planet is like Earth’s Las Vegas. I imagine that’s a place you’d enjoy.”

“My brother reached out to me after years of silence and it ended in a fight.” His bluntness surprised you a little. The Captain hardly ever revealed anything about his personal life. He always seemed thoroughly professional, putting ship and crew first.

“I didn’t even know you had a brother,” you admitted.

Jim shrugged again. “There’s probably a reason for that ... let’s just leave it at that, okay?” He quoted and winked at you.

Silence filled the room again as you both took another sip from your drinks. Slowly, the tension had begun to fade. Part of you actually enjoyed sitting here, talking to him. It seemed so ... easy. You wouldn’t have expected that.

“You know what?” He suddenly exclaimed.

“What?”

Jim got up from his place and quickly grabbed the bottle of whiskey before coming back. He motioned you to give him your glass and refilled it, before doing the same to his own.

“Let us have a drink together. Both our nights have been shit so far, so let’s forget about it, and work, and everything else.”

You chuckled slightly. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

“Great,” he grinned and his whole face lit up. “Call me Jim tonight.” He raised his glass.

“Alright, Jim.” Not addressing him by his rank felt somehow unnatural. “I’m Y/N.” You said nonetheless and raised your glass as well. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

***

“DAMNIT, JIM!”

You groaned when a loud voice woke you up from a deep, dreamless sleep. Slowly you began to open your eyes, not realizing where you were. All you knew was that your head hurt like crazy. In fact, it hurt even more than a year ago when you accidently caught that weird alien disease that pretty much made you feel like your brain was exploding inside your skull. “Oh fuck,” you yelped.

“Lights to a hundred percent!”

This time, you weren’t the only one swearing when the almost blinding white lights hit your face. “Lights to thirty percent!” You shrieked and buried your head in the pillow.

“Lights to sixty percent!” A grumpy voice scolded.

“Ugh!” Your headache only grew stronger with every passing second. Fuck, how much did you drink last night? What had happened? You remembered sitting with Kirk in the Senior’s lounge and drinking and then ... everything was still a little blurry in your memory.

Then another thought shot through your mind: Who the hell was standing in your room? You raised your head from the pillows, blinking a few times (the light was still way too bright in your opinion) and looked around for the first time since you woke up.

Confusion began to grow inside of you when you noticed strange objects. You were pretty sure that your quarters didn’t include a couch. Or man’s clothing scattered on the ground. In fact, it slowly dawned on you that those weren’t your quarters. No, this room was way bigger. And the bed you were lying in way more comfortable than yours - and there was no logical explanation for Doctor Leonard McCoy looking down on you right now.

“What the hell is going on?” You croaked (your throat practically screaming for water), staring at the older man next to the bed.

“I’d like to ask you the same thing, darling.” He replied in a demanding tone and shook his head. “And you too, Jim!” In a swift movement he grabbed a pillow and threw it behind you where it was answered by an annoyed curse.

Jim.

Jim?  

Your eyes grew wide with shock and you practically jumped out of the bed.

There he was. Half naked, lying on the other side of the bed, rubbing his eyes and letting out a yawn. “Morning to you too, Bones.” He muttered and got himself up on his elbows before looking over at you. “And to you, gorgeous.”

You just stared at him in disbelief. “Why the hell was I in your bed?!” The only relevant question right now, you thought.

Oh god. You didn’t ... a terrible thought began to manifest itself in your mind. Oh please no, you couldn’t! You’d never ... would you?

But then Leonard McCoy managed with one single sentence to blow all of your fears of having accidentally hooked up with your Captain away, when he turned to you and the following words left his mouth: “I believe the more urgent question is, why are you wearing a wedding dress?”

Masterlist: Accidentally Married

My Masterlist

Tag list: @goingknowherewastaken , @pandigirl19 , @whatif-animagineblog , @imoutofmyvulcanmind , @feelmyroarrrr

Tags for this fic: @dudahmautner​

People who might be interested (you were so supportive of the idea so please tell me if you want to be excluded): @thevalesofanduin , @janeykath318 , @kingarthurscat

If you wanna be added to / removed from the tag list, just shoot me a message! 

#a gif will be added tomorrow #jim kirk x reader #jim kirk/reader #jim kirk x female reader #jim kirk #jim kirk aos #jim kirk fanfiction #star trek #star trek aos #star trek fanfiction #fanfiction #my writing #bones #leonard mccoy

[samingtonwilson]

Marriage Material - Part 1 - Jim Kirk

Summary: in this chapter, you’re aren’t asked. you’re told.

Warnings: alcohol, language

A/N: this should be interesting to write. that drunk friends gettin’ married trope.

Street upon street lined with lights brighter than you’d ever seen. Reds, yellows, greens, blues— colors you’d never encountered in your life stung your eyes as they flashed over the building-sized television screens, the bulbs lining each tower, and the clothes of every creature stumbling along every sidewalk just like you were.

You imagined that’s what Las Vegas looked like back on Earth— you’d heard stories from the old bitties in your family and you’d seen pictures of its heyday, but the sight of such excess, of such unnecessary glitz was nearly overwhelming in person.

Your eyes were hooded and foggy from the drunkenness that warmed you to the tips of your toes while your steps managed a certain degree of stability, your arm looped through that of one of your closest friends.

You let your arm fall from his, catching his hand instead and pulling him closer into your side. His hip bumped against yours and you took a deep breath, feeling the cold air burn your nostrils as you inhaled. “Remind me to never go to another Chekov party. I swear the boy wants me hospitalized with alcohol poisoning.”

Jim laughed through his nose, his glassy blue eyes sliding shut for a moment. “He didn’t force the shots down your throat, starlight.”

You mouthed his words imitatively and laughed loudly when he shot you a dirty look. “You know, Nyota said she and Spock might get married.”

“What, like in the future?” he asked, pulling you along the sidewalk until he came to a brief stop before a large white marble fountain.

You sighed at the feeling of the cold mist splashing against your warm skin, shutting your eyes as he continued walking to let him guide you blindly. “No, like, soon. Like before we leave the base.”

His steps halted and you opened your eyes, nodding upwards as he stared at you with his head tilted. There was a soft red tint spreading over the tip of his nose and the highpoints of his cheeks, his blonde hair sticking up every which way from the ongoing breeze.

You were tempted to smile and pinch his cheek adoringly but stopped yourself when you read his confusion and mild shock. “What? This place is loaded with little wedding halls probably for every religious faith and culture in the Federation. We even passed one for atheists, like, fourteen feet from the junior officer barracks.” You pointed ahead of you at a plain white building which looked misplaced amongst all the excess. “There’s one for Vulcan atheists right there.”

He blew a raspberry, the sound childish and inspiring another one of your smiles. “Them getting married would be a mistake.”

You pulled Jim’s hand to tow him along this time and clicked your tongue with a single shake of your head. “What, are you jealous? Spock’ll still have time for you.”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. Marriage is just a big deal— they don’t last more than three months at a time as it is.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I mean, are marriages done here even valid?”

“It’s Federation law— no planet in the Federation can deny marriages celebrated on other planets. If their marriage license is signed, it’s valid whether they’re married here, on Earth, on New Vulcan, on Caleb IV— anywhere.”

“Well, more than half the couples could probably get annulments since they’re all drunk and not in their right minds,” you stated, narrowing your eyes at what appeared to be an Earth-like diner complete with red and white tiles, red vinyl booths, and waitresses on roller skates. “Then again, no judge would grant an annulment to people that’ve dated as long as those two have.”

Jim hummed, taking one large step to walk ahead of you and pull you towards the diner. It enabled you to smell the grease easily.

“But if you and I were to get married,” you continued, following him through glass doors, and, immediately, a gentle heat surrounded you. “If we were to get married, we could probably get an annulment.”

He picked a booth in the back corner and you smiled to yourself. He plopped down on one side and you slid into the other, he tilted his head with wide eyes that reflected each of the overhead lights. “Why would we be able to?”

“We’ve never had sex,” you replied, picking up a plastic menu and absentmindedly clicking your tongue until you spotted French fries with a whispered “whoo” of victory. You glanced up at Jim as he continued to stare at you. “And we’ve never indicated romantic interest in one another, never been on a date— we’re, like, the definition of platonic. If we were to marry each other, it’d obviously be when we’re not of sound mind.”

“I’ll pretend that doesn’t sting,” he mumbled, looking down at his menu. He sighed as he stared at the words he was unable to make out even when he selected the English language option. He looked up again, he narrowed his eyes again. “You really don’t have any romantic interest in me?”

You raised a single eyebrow before telling the waiting waitress what you wanted— just an order of fries and a chocolate milkshake— and held your response to Jim until he was able to relay his order— the same as yours seeing as he had no idea what else was on the menu. “Why? What’s it doing to your ego when I say I don’t?”

“Less my ego and more right here,” he said as he used his right index finger to point at the left side of his chest. He frowned exaggeratedly— he wasn’t going to allow the more natural frown he felt pulling his lips downward. “You’re breaking my heart, starlight.”

You blinked and stayed silent for a moment, rolling your eyes with a snort a moment later. “Good one.”

Moments later, the lavender-skinned waitress set your identical orders before you. She smiled and intended on skating away until Jim stopped her, asking, “Do you serve alcohol?”

When she nodded, Jim made his own quiet sound of victory. “Get me whatever’s strongest, please.”

You tilted your head once more. “Not drunk enough?”

He shook his head, the red that was previously so keen on highlighting his features had faded as had the smile that was once so keen on staying put the entire night. “Apparently not.”

It wasn’t a surprise to either of you that you decided to partake in drinking more as well. The faces as he made when the alcohol burnt his throat was too tempting, too desirable and your milkshake did little to provide relief.

You sat back against the cushion, tipping your head upwards to stare at the ceiling for a moment. Your eyes were hooded once again, your movements slower now than before as if you were surrounded by viscous maple syrup rather than the warm air of the busy diner. “Spock and Nyota shouldn’t get married.”

Jim hummed questioningly. His chin sat upon his palm, propped up by a precariously unsteady arm. He looked at you unwaveringly now, even as you managed to look anywhere but at him.

You took your eyes from the ceiling, opting to stare at the empty bottle between the two of you— the bottle the waitress only gave you to keep from having to run back and forth between the small bar section and your booth. “Spock and Nyota.”

He frowned. “They shouldn’t get married.”

“That’s what I’m saying! They’re barely friends, forget about loving one another enough to make a marriage last.”

He hummed. “You should marry your friend.”

“Which friend?”

He snorted. “The general you, not you. Friends make good spouses.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” you asked with a laugh, smiling at him.

He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. “Of course not. I’m not ‘marriage material.’”

“Who the fuck said that?” you yelled, clapping your hand over your lips the instant your volume attracted attention. You smiled behind your palm, rolling your eyes as your hand sat atop your lap again. “Whoops.”

“No one needs to say it,” Jim shrugged, clearly not bothered by your volume as his amusement took a little time to fade.

“Well, I’d marry you.”

To your ego’s dismay, he scowled. “I thought we were ‘the definition of platonic.’”

“Please,” you snorted, your head lolling against the cushion behind you once more. “You can’t tell me you really think that.”

He tilted his head. He traced your features, he tried to memorize each of them. “Marry me, then. Right now.”

“Right,” you said dryly with a dismissive wave of your hand.

“The venue’s up to you— Vulcan atheist, Earth Zoroastrian, Caleb IV agnostic. Doesn’t matter.” He sighed then, a brightness in his otherwise glossy eyes that you’d never seen in the years you’d known him. “Let’s get married.”

Though your throat had run dry and the beating in your chest was so forceful it would have forced you to double over had you been standing, you picked Earth Zoroastrian. You told him you liked the word “Zoroastrian” and you told yourself you really liked him.

PART 2

#this part is SHORRRRRT #but i wanted to get it out asap so i had reason to write the subsequent parts #this is going to update once a week tho ok #anyways #so here it is in all its glory #jim #jim kirk #jim kirk imagine #kirk imagine #jim kirk x reader #kirk x reader #star trek #star trek imagine #captain kirk imagine #captain kirk #captain kirk x reader #imagine kirk #imagine jim kirk #imagine getting enough sleep

[bleedingcoffee42]

For the request of RoyAi and X-Files and I’ve been wanting to write the Arcadia “fake married in a weird suburban subdivision” episode for a while.  Also...not even close to 5 sentences...sorry. Also not a true AU as it’s an episode.  And...also Ed tries to ruin it so it’s kinda not anything right.

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“Quite the welcoming committee.” Roy said and looked over at Riza as they pulled into the drive of their new home.  He grinned, excitement just bubbling from every inch of him.  Finally.  A fun mission.  He had every reason to refer to her as his wife.  His love.  Riza.   He was beyond happy.

“Maybe you can tone down the excitement a little.”  She said.  “We're an old married couple.”

“Only ‘cause you got knocked up as a teenager.”  He said and she smacked him as he put the car in park and the moving truck pulled in beside them.   “What?  I'm not the one who agreed to let Ed come along.  You had to realize we would have to adjust our cover stories to accommodate him.”

She took a deep breath.  “Please, behave.  Please remember this is for a mission.”

“Slim chance of that.”  He said.   “Have you met your first born?”

Riza looked over as Ed jumped out of the moving van to greet the new neighbors.  “Yes, so get out there and play your part.”

“Yes, honey.”  Roy said and got out of the car with a smile on his face.  He was going to enjoy this mission to i’s fullest but then Ed saw a way to ruin his fun and join in.   Now he was fake married with a fake kid.  And that kid sucked.   So it was time to ruin his fun too.  He walked over and threw his arm around Ed and loudly said, “Hey son, already getting to know the neighbors huh?”

Ed shook off the hug and smirked.   “Well you and Mom were taking your time getting out of the car. Kind of rude, really.  These people brought apple pie!”

He would throw caution to the wind just to get some pie.   Roy held out his hand.  “Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Roy Hayate and this is my son, Ed and that’s my beautiful wife Riza.”

The welcoming committee all chirped hellos and greetings until one stepped forward.   “I'm Roger Trumbull, head of the neighborhood watch.  My wife Tracy..our daughter Kate...”

“Oh good, someone your own age Ed. Go play.”  Roy tried to shove him away but the stubborn kid just shoved back.  

“I'm fourteen, I don't play anymore.” Ed growled and the small party of people started to migrate to Hawkeye who was trying to carry her luggage into the house.  Luggage with a break down rifle and ammunition.  Never leave home, or move to a new one, without it.

“Except with yourself, ha.”  Roy tussled Ed’s hair and saw that look of challenge.   That look, followed by a sinister smirk that said 'game on'.   “Go help your Mom carry that suitcase.”

“So, what do you do for a living Roy?”   Roger asked.

“Nothing.   He's useless.”   Ed said.  “Mom makes all the money.”

“Doing what?”  Roger prodded.

Ed felt Roy's shove to try to get him to leave.  Nope.  “She specializes in flame retardant materials.”

“Fascinating.”  Roger said.

“She is.  Love of my life. “ Roy chuckled and put his hand on Ed's shoulder and squeezed hard enough to feel the kid cringe.  He just blew their cover story and thankfully he said it all loud enough for Riza to hear.  God Ed.  You little shit.  “Riza, works from home and I am lucky enough to work from home too.”

“You're probably wondering how this loser could be my Dad right?”  Ed interrupted.   “Me with blond hair, him with black hair.  Makes you wonder if there might be some Game of Thrones stuff going on with Uncle Jean over there.”

“Stop implying you're a bastard by anything but choice, Ed.”  Roy said. “Like I explained before, genetics are incredible.  The blond gene is recessive on my side and you lucked out and got your Mom's looks which will hopefully help compensate for your shitty attitude.  I wish you'd take an interest in science, it's all very simple really.  Just apply yourself, son.”

“Roy! Ed!”  Riza called from the house.  “Do some work!”

“Yes, you must be moved in by 7 pm.” Roger said.  “Per homeowners association rules.”

“Rules are meant to be broken.” Ed said and the neighbors all looked at him mortified.

“Not anymore, young man.”  Roy said and finally shoved Ed towards the moving truck. 

“We'll help you unpack!”  Roger said when he looked at his watch.  “Only an hour and a half before you have to be done!”

The neighbors rushed to the truck as if there would be a firing squad waiting if the moving truck remained in the driveway one minute too long.  Roy couldn't help but ask.  “Or what?”

There was nervous laughter and most of them pretended they didn't hear his question.  Ed scanned the cul-de-sac.  “Well, Dad, hope you don't mind if I check things out.”

“Just make sure you announce yourself when you get home, son.”  Roy said and smirked.  “Your Mom and I might want to do some celebrating.”

“Ew.”  Ed said and closed his eyes. “I should report you to the authorities for even talking about that in front of me.”

“Still time for you to get a ride back with Uncle Jean.  You could check out the military academy or boarding school. I told you I wasn't going to make you come.... “ Roy then let a smirk creep across his face. Threat or not, he would make this kid retreat  “Your Mom on the other hand...”

“EW!”  Ed screamed.  “Dinner better be on the table when I get home, Dad.  And it better not be burnt.”

Roy watched him run off, annoyed that he couldn't force him to leave with the rest of the team.  He watched the neighbors struggle to unpack the moving truck with muscles they didn't have and an air of panic about then that made him wonder what could possibly happen if this truck was still here past 7.  

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“I didn't actually think you could cook.”  Ed said as he shoved food into his mouth and savored every bite.  “This is good.  Really good.”

Riza was enjoying dinner as well but she could see Roy was just picking at it, his fantasy vacation had been ruined when Ed volunteered to come along.   It was about the mission, Ed would be great at surveillance as a unruly teenager and even Roy had to admit that.  However he really wanted to live the fake married trope' to the fullest and Ed got in the way of that.   “Did you discover anything?”

“Every house looks alike.  There is a curfew.  This place creeps me out.”

Roy picked at dinner.   “You missed the neighbors practically running to their homes at 7.”

“That fountain in the middle of the community reminds me of  the one in Liore.”  Ed said and thought about it.  “Like old world religion-y and pretentious, spilling over with false hopes and promises and lies.”

“Dear Diary...” Roy mumbled.  “I moved in with my new fake family today and I am appalled by the uniformity and hopelessness seeping from every fiber of suburban life.  I feel so repressed.  Like this place will suck away my individuality.   Nobody understands me...I'm so edgy...”

Riza sighed.  “Here we go.”

Ed sat up in his seat and prepared to do his Mustang impression.  He ran his hand through his hair and waved his arm wildly and snapped.  “Well Fullmetal, maybe if you weren't so short sighted you would see I was planning to use this mission as a way to win over the love of my life, because the only way she'd fall for me is if was literally the only man in a fifty mile radius who wasn't part of some weird suburban drug cartel cult in the hills.”

They glared at each other until Riza stood and took away their plates.

“Wait, I wasn't done.”  Ed said.

“You two better not ruin this mission.”  Riza growled.

“He already has.”  Roy grumbled. “Why couldn't we bring the dog?”

“No dogs allowed.”  Riza put the plates back down as Ed looked at her with the most pitiful eyes and she couldn't deny him his meal.

“See, they're evil.”  Roy said. “Who doesn't allow dogs?”

“I'll go out tonight and see what I can find out.” Ed promised.

“Like all night?”  Roy asked and felt a kick to his shin.  “What?  We're married!”

“Fake married.”  She said.  

“I want to find out what happens when we violate the no loud noises after 10 pm rule.”  Roy said and heard Ed gag a little.  

“I hope she shoots you for being so...gross.”  Ed said and stood up to get a second helping.  “Which is not a reflection of how I feel about your cooking because this is really good.”

“Thanks.”

“You're the best cook Dad.”  Ed said and laughed.   “Best keep your ass in the kitchen where it belongs.”

Roy gave Riza a glance and she seemed so soft and relaxed, despite this being a mission and having to be careful what they said around Ed, she seemed to be enjoying herself. He still wished they brought the dog instead of Ed, but maybe this wouldn't be a ruined mission after all.  

#fic #royai #drabble request