Movie Ending AU. Erik is merciless after Shaw is dead, taking out Moira and sending the missiles back at the ships that fired them. Charles refuses to join him and they go their separate ways, but he keeps getting in the way and Erik can't allow him to interfere with his plans. More importantly, he can't allow Charles to be hurt.

After the Fischer inception, Eames goes back to work as an extractor, and Arthur joins his team. Due to circumstances involving a guy who may or may not be from Greenland, pop astrology, someone's broken limb, hormones, and convenience, they end up learning that love is what starts down below (and makes its way up your spine).

Political crisis managers AU. Arthur and Eames are operatives for rival presidential campaigns in a heated Democratic primary. Can they find love and happiness in spite of all the pies, Republicans, and publicity disasters in their way? Even in the face of the dreaded ELECTORAL COLLEGE SYSTEM? I DON'T KNOW! LET'S FIND OUT!

Ten months after a savage split, Arthur climbs down to pull Eames out of limbo.

These are not all lies.

The first time Arthur shoots Eames in the head at point blank range is when Eames falls in love. That’s the beginning. That’s the end. (Or: Tattoo!Arthur gone sideways.)

It's around when Ray wants to hold Walt's hand like a goddamn teenage girl with stars in her eyes and wet panties that he starts to worry.

Taking care of Tony is a lot of work. Especially when you’ve only got one arm. And your code dates back to the 1980s.

Replay is the story of how after Magneto of an X2-ish future succeeds in the unthinkable, Charles sends his consciousness back to 1962 to guide Erik away from the path that will lead to the genocide of the human race forty years hence. Charles knows Erik has always loved him, and intends to accomplish his goal through a totally bulletproof plan involving lots of sex. But there's something Charles doesn't know, and he's in over his head from the start....

Erik's side of the story is a little different.

Nate's pretty sure that most Marine Corps recruitment drives don't include lusting after your potential Marine brothers, but it's not Nate's fault.

Every single day, the same position,
Fighting for supremacy.

"That," he says, "is how you know it was close." - Sebastian Junger, War

"Fairly everyday stuff. If it's too mundane, I'll completely understand if you're not interested."

If he wasn't interested? Erik gave him a blank look, and the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself: "you did see my record, right?"

"Oh yes, that," Xavier said vaguely. "I did. Metal, isn't it? I suppose that's why you were touching that gate. Can't imagine it myself, having my own abilities restrained."

Arthur and Eames sabotage each other's jobs-- until they can't anymore. Or: How Arthur and Eames Learned to Stop Worrying and Make Their Own Form of Social Capital.

"Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush here. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders in addition to training and experience. I'm calling to offer you a job as Eames' fulltime bodyguard for his upcoming summer tour."

Saito's job referral draws Arthur, Eames, and Ariadne together for an extraction in Finland that proves unexpectedly dangerous and difficult, pushing the three of them past all limits and into a precarious and tender three-cornered relationship. In which Ariadne loses the future she'd planned, Eames loses the past he thought he'd already thrown away, and Arthur loses his distance, secrets are revealed and a dance for two becomes a tango for three.

Then Lilly wins... and there's something in her face that tells you she's been waiting for this for hours.

She points fingers at both of you, then brings them together. "Make out."

Fury's a beautiful princess. Clint's plotting a Communist revolution. Rhodey's not sexy. Wall-E's not a documentary. Clint's not gay but he does give a great blowjob. This fic is not an AU.

Five years. Five times they don't fuck, just fuck with each other. No times they don't.

Being a freshman piano performance major at a prestigious New England conservatory is difficult enough without landing the school's star baritone as your singer, and inevitably, your hopeless crush.

"It's come to my attention," says Pierce, "that Jeff is dead."

(But Sherlock Abed is born).

They say Man was made in God's image, and that's not wrong, exactly, except for how it's all wrong, except for how it's always been wrong, because Man was made in God's image, that first time, but man, lowercase, widespread, always evolving into something worse, man was made in the image of man, who was made in the image of Man, who spent too much time gorging himself on apples to remember much about whose image it was he was made in.

A fanfic writer and Feminist Ryan Gosling discuss celebrity culture, gender and theory, and the political perils of Fassavoy fic.

Nancy Tremaine thinks she may be losing her grip on reality when she brings a stranger in a fairytale wedding dress with a distressingly low sense of self-preservation home to sleep on her couch. She has no idea what she's getting herself into.

Set one year post movie, Charles overloads himself in Cerebro, and his mind goes walkabout; wherever he is (and he’s around), it’s not in his body. Erik temporarily takes over the school in his absence, and finds that there’s little time for resentment or hatred when he’s busy organizing assigned reading for English lit, keeping the youngest children out of trouble, and trying to talk Raven into wearing clothing for the boys’ sake. Somewhere in between taking responsibility for the students and dreaming Charles’ dreams every night, he manages to remember that he’s something rather more than a weapon. In other words: A Love Story between two Gentlemen, told in Prose, Epistles, and Nonsense Rhymes.

Erik Lehnsherr is a visiting professor at Columbia University, as well as an acclaimed and award winning poet. Charles Xavier is a lead researcher with the Genetics Department who is well on his way to tenure. But what happens when Charles has to cancel a class because half his students abandon him in favour of a mysterious new English Lit professor? Naturally he ends up sitting in in the class, where Professor Lehnsherr mistakes him for a student. It's really too bad Erik has such a strict policy against dating students. It's also too bad Erik doesn't seem to know how to use Google.

Charles smiles at the pawn in his right hand. "That was when I understood how easy it was. If I operated without limits, I could remake the world. Isn't that the best argument for restraint?"

Looking back, that should have been his first clue.

“You know John, I could hypnotize you if you really want."

Friendship means going in first and taking the heaviest fire.

Arthur's well aware that some people call this codependency. He thinks that label was invented by people who set artificial barriers on love. Love isn't a choice, it's not something you do. Love is a state of being that consumes everything in its wake like paper on fire.

You either love someone or you don't, and if you love them, you only say no until it's obvious you're not going to get your way, then you fully commit to whatever bullshit thing the person is into (whether that be yoga, distance running, video editing, or arms smuggling).

Which is how Arthur ends up with a pet pig.

Traumatized by his experience on Tarsus IV, Jim Kirk runs away to Vulcan to undergo kolinahr.

In an alternate universe, Harvey's still a lawyer but Mike's not a pot runner -- he's a deliveryman for Rollo's Pizza and Ribs, which happens to be Harvey's favorite pizza place. Once Harvey finds out his pizza guy is a genius, Mike's life takes a few turns he would not have expected.

The most powerful telepath on the planet could never be a pacifist.

Arthur found himself staring deeply into Eames' eyes, which were very serious. "Don't worry," Eames assured him, "I'm a level eighty-five ret paladin."

Arthur is the son of the ruler, and an Omega male. Eames is leading the revolution. Which kidnaps Arthur. This is only the start of their problems.

As it turns out, fighting crime is the easy part.

Tony is the only one who can defend Steve's virtue. Tony hates his life.

There's no "I" in "Avenger."

Basically, no one in London gave two shillings for what Arthur did, which was why Arthur liked London enough to sell books on architecture, design, and engineering at a bookshop called The Robie House, a name he'd chosen on a whim when he was signing the papers and regretted ever since.

"Merlin," it read in a very familiar and stern manner. "Stop defacing this book."

Arthur frowned. "You're... the spirit of my father." Uther nodded.

In the not so distant future, Merlin builds a tower. That's not suspicious at all.

Or, How in his tenth year of rule King Arthur chose a man to take the role of Court's Magician, and how Arthur made his decision.

Arthur and Merlin have their own interpretations of what the hell happened That Night. They're both wrong and kind of deluded. But they still get lucky, so who's counting?

James tried to find the words, but nothing came. How in the hell are you supposed to explain to a drunk girl that garden gnomes aren't pets?

Infallible? Me? Come on. He had to be kidding. Only someone clearly off their rocker would put the likes of me up on a pedestal.

Merlin was best known for being "that guy with the sticky-out ears who lurks in the back of photos," if he even got that much recognition. He too had graced the cover of many trashy tabloids (most of which pictures were stuck on his mother’s wall, to his mortification) but no one really seemed to care about that. In fact, all people ever asked him about was Arthur.

Arthur's yowl of pain was followed rapidly by an attempt to peel the soiled, Armani shirt away from his chest before it burned itself into his skin. "You…You idiot!" he roared, frantically checking his Excalibur to make sure it had miraculously survived the moron's bumbling thoughtlessness.

When Merlin woke the next morning, he spent a good ten minutes staring at the canopy, trying to convince himself he didn't remember where he was and didn't remember exactly what he was doing there and how many times he had done it.

Merlin thought nothing of it when Gaius dropped the first clay pot. It was, after all, an empty pot.

Arthur is a rich business man - Merlin is the down-on-his-luck hooker he picks up almost by accident one night. Things Happen Between Them - and not just the things Arthur paid for.

He glanced up and caught Albus's eye. Albus made no attempt at occluding his thoughts, and merely visualized his tea service in careful and complete detail. The corner of Gellert's mouth twitched.

One brother: the one you love above all others. Two brothers: the ones you can never choose between.

justice is hot: hi
justice is hot: a/s/l?
Yagami Raito: Oh, but I'd much like you know your name, first.
Yagami Raito: Maybe you can send a picture of yourself, as well?
justice is hot: initial reaction to strangers similar to that of kira's... 80%, now

Everyone else is acting like it's yesterday all over again, like Morgana only just fell asleep, it's crazy. They're saying exactly the same things and doing the same things and okay my memories of last night aren't exactly crystal-clear but I'm fairly sure that bowl was broken when I left the room.

The problem with being the son of Uther Pendragon, legend of stage and screen, winner of Emmys (twice), Tonys (once), Oliviers (multiple), BAFTAs (twice), Oscars (once) and People's Sexiest Man (twice) was that nobody was ever going to take Arthur seriously as an actor in his own right. If Arthur stayed in London, his success was always going to be down to nepotism, name recognition or latent star fucking. At least this was the excuse Arthur gave Merlin when he packed his bags three weeks before he was to finish his Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts course and moved to Los Angeles.

The first time Lt Arthur Pendragon properly met A1C Merlin Emrys, he was doing push-ups on the floor of the Fort Campbell weather station.

Morgana sends Arthur on some blind dates that don’t go quite according to plan.

They would pay any price that was asked, Nimueh whispered at the end, trembling with exhaustion, desperate, pleading, anything, anything at all. Just give her this child. Give her the son he stole from her.

Eight children – all under the age of thirteen – had disappeared from Camelot in the past six weeks. This little girl had been the first one recovered – dead and barely three years old.

It hadn't been Nimueh's destiny to die at his hand, on this isle. And if her destiny could be broken… so could anyone's.

It wasn't always like that. Because when Dumbledore had paused before the cluster of four boys--and they were still boys, Sirius knew now--on their last day at Hogwarts, and told them that they were bound for extraordinary things, he'd been right.

He stores it up for later, all that raw hysteria, to relish in a moment when he is alone. He stores L’s stricken look away too, and can barely contain himself. The weeks without the Death Note have given him time to imprint L’s face on his mind – he can see it, the gaze of friendship, the eyes that are by now too comfortable watching him, too warm, even as they widen in suspicion.

James was pink from head to toe, and from what Remus could see, it was the same exact color all over--not like a sunburn with varying shades, but a solid stomach-medicine hue, vaguely nauseating in and of itself. It had to be Charmwork. Advanced Charmwork from the looks of it--magic that no regular first year ought to have known. Which narrowed the field to James--who was predisposed to magic; Sirius--who was predisposed to mischief; Remus--who was predisposed to reading; or Snape.

Six hours stuck in a closet with someone you love -- it's the best kind of hell imaginable.

One day, Sirius notices how attractive Remus’ girlfriend is.

Algernon sicked up under my bed. Moony and I discussed what we could do with it during breakfast, but by the time I’d run up to preserve it after lunch, the house-elves had already got to it. Another wasted opportunity.

There was visibility, and then there was invisibility. James Potter understood the difference between the two. When he decided to become invisible, no one was more surprised than he.

Until the liberation of Warsaw in 1945, many men and women risked their lives trying to help Jews escape Nazi persecution. Merlin tried to help as best he could and it was in doing so, that he was reunited with Arthur.

Heroic David Shepherd was, of course, unfazed. 'Let me make it up to you. Please.' His jaw clenched in a dashing show of masculine determination. "I’m really sorry. Anything you want, seriously."

Arthur Weasley discovers that no matter how limited the choices, the cost of using the enemy's techniques is too high.

She wouldn’t quite say it’s love, but they’re two young people mutually attracted to each other, and as much as Spock’s Vulcan side hates to admit any human weakness like lust, it’s only logical to Nyota that they’d be touching and feeling, testing each other and their boundaries, as much as possible, in rare moments alone even more so.

Jim quickly figures out he has to break the rules if he’s going to survive on the Enterprise.

"Spock. Just say 'I don't trust Starfleet not to mess up the only captain in the fleet who I can train up to my expectations and enjoys running into danger wearing a blindfold as much as I do'."

"Gran!" Neville exclaimed. "Do you realize this means you're married?" He paused as the situation sank in. "To Professor McGonagall?" he added, just in case either was befuddled as he was. "Gran?"

I'll tell you a story, believe every word,
It's quite unique, nothing like you've ever heard,
In case you believed that, shame on you,
This rhymes, yes, but truthfully, it's nothing new.

In which Kirk gets beaten like a rented mule behind a bar, sulks about it for a significant period of time, is forced to endure Spock in eyeliner, and points that no one is ever going to buy what Spock's selling -- unless they train him up a bit.

The Federation and the Romulan Empire have been on the verge of war for what sometimes feels like forever; this is the place where what passes for peace might end.

They’re pulling up the tree-lined avenue toward Buckingham when he suffers an attack of conscience and deletes most of the images — all the most revealing, all the most explicit. He keeps only what’s absolutely necessary to prove a point, and it still burns at him, to know that in less than an hour these will be everywhere and that they’ll never be erased. They’ll live in zeros and ones long after he’s dead, and maybe Merlin will never forgive him for letting his cell phone get stolen, but he’d hate Arthur far, far more if he knew the truth — Merlin always gets caught up in the tangential details. Arthur could explain for hours, days, weeks, but Merlin would never really believe him.

When Merlin first hears that Arthur has been betrothed, his ribs pull inwards with an odd little hitch, and he only allows himself a second—which he needs in order to coordinate spinning in place without falling on his face—before he’s running to Arthur’s chambers.

Arthur and Morgana are Metropolitan police officers drawn into a strange case involving robbery of ancient artifacts. Merlin is a graduate student at Imperial College studying the healing plants of Ancient Britain under Gaius – or at least that's what he tells everyone. Soon they, along with Gwen, Lancelot and Uther, will be facing a battle for the future of the country. Can they defend the realm from those who would seek to destroy it?