Thor and Loki give birth to a child that Odin spirits away to Earth. Turns out, this child is one of the Avengers. Cue everyone finding out

Unfortunately no amount of nurture can change the nature of their bond. Thor and Loki are bonded not as brothers or friends but as lovers. The two of them have struggled all their lives with what they thought was a damaged, perverse familial bond. Then the truth comes out.

Want is ten thousand blue feathers falling
all around me, and me unable to stomach
that I might catch five but never ten thousand.
So I drop my hands to my sides and wait
to be buried.

They've made a habit of this: the late night knock, the doorbell lean, the quickly picked lock. Turning up in one another's spaces unannounced, though not unwelcome. The promise of sanctuary has been there as long as they've known each other, which is longer than most people realize and much longer than they'll admit to.

In which Arthur and Eames have always relied on each other to keep one important secret.

"The Avengers are fighting some foe that they're having a lot of trouble defeating, when all of a sudden Loki shows up and pretty much defeats the enemy with a snap of his fingers. Because he needs to talk to his brother and he demands Thor's full attention thank you very much. Bonus points if he's just immobilized the foe or something and they try to interrupt Loki whose all 'oh are you still here mortal?'"

Do not make things too easy.
There are rocks and abysses in the mind
As well as meadows.
There are things knotty and hard: intractable.
Do not talk to me of love and understanding.
I am sick of blandishments.

"Loki," Odin says, heavy with disappointment and regret for all he has to raise his voice, "Odinson. I cast you out."

To think that Severus Snape doesn't sleep is a fallacy.

He sleeps: it may be in fits and starts, separated by nightmares and convoluted, exhausted dreams, but he does sleep.

Though not even Dumbledore suspects that half of what he calls nightmares are simply dreams about fucking Harry Potter.

Arthur had always guessed that sex (and all its attendant goings on) with Eames would be good. He'd just never counted on it being so much fun.

How astonishing it is that language can almost mean,
and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say,
God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we write, and the words
get it all wrong. We say bread and it means according
to which nation. French has no word for home,
and we have no word for strict pleasure.

It's possible Arthur's missed a clue or two over the last several years.

Arthur is a massage therapist. Eames is his number one client—okay, stalker.

Eames is very good at pretending.

Arthur and Eames tell each other dirty stories to pass the time.

Arthur's job takes him around the world, and eventually all he wants is a place to call home.

Eames asks Arthur to leave retirement post-film to fight a human trafficking ring. In the aftermath of their op, they get engaged and go on the talk-show circuit as a cover (as Arthur says: "You know what'll happen if we popped up in the media married. This is a big story right now in the States, you know that. We'd be untouchable by a gang of Ukrainian sex traffickers with CNN is sitting on the lawn.") and actually fall in love in the process, meanwhile avoiding assassins.

“I don't think the definition of 'easy' includes being shot at by Russians and getting cock-blocked by your best friends!” Arthur shouts.

This could be the beginning of something amazing ... if Dom and Mal will only stay out of Arthur's way. A story in which there are Russians, Arthur spends a lot of time in his underwear, and (sadly) no one gets laid.

"What would happen if I ran out of reasons to keep you coming back?"

This is baseball. There’s no crying in baseball, and there’s no gays, either.

Eames’ mother told him to stay away from the circus because you never knew what gypsies might do, but Eames himself had never been particularly good at doing what he was told.

Summary:  In the beginning, Severus never expected to find Harry Potter in his bed one night a week.  In the end, he never expected not to.

It’s bad news from every corner of the world and Arthur wonders when it’s going to hit home. The dream-sharing community is struck by a disease they can't fight off and Arthur bides his time until the end.

arthur steals eames' dog.

Thor and his esteem issues and his magical sentient hammer go hunting for tricksters in Jotunheim.

Dreaming, driving, dying; this is a story about how things don't change.

It's the immemorial feelings
I like the best: hunger, thirst,
their satisfaction; work-weariness,
earned rest; the falling again
from loneliness to love;

Because of Eames, Arthur learned to fall in love with dreaming again.

In which Arthur is domestic, there is a series of unfortunate events, and firefighter Eames is called upon to save the day. Idea shamelessly taken from Modern Family.

"Are we still at the airport?"

Or the one that asks, do they really exist?

Exploring Arthur and Eames' backstory in the military where they each lead an elite unit in the dream-sharing trials. The Powers That Be would prefer to keep the participants in the dark, but Arthur and Eames find each other, fall in love, and change dream-sharing forever.

Arthur likes Eames; Eames likes Arthur, but does he like his secret admirer more? A story told through letters, emails, and action scenes, featuring theft, dreamcrime, snowglobes, and surprise dinosaurs.

Eames would gladly welcome comparisons to other dashing bearded men, but Eames rarely gets what he wants when it comes to Arthur.

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.)

Arthur is a sub. He's in a shitty relationship or arrangement, scratching the itch without really getting what he needs/wants. Maybe the dom doesn't respect him, leaves or makes Arthur leave right after a scene, zero aftercare, clumsily trying to assert his dominance through brute force or violence alone--whatever it is, just generally showing a total lack of understanding of what a healthy, caring and mutually beneficial D/s relationship can and should be.

Arthur is unhappy with the situation, but he's resigned to it. Maybe he's never been in a healthy arrangement, maybe he's ashamed of his need to be dominated and thinks that this is his only option, or maybe he's just settling because he thinks this is the best he's going to get given the life he leads.

Eames figures out what's going on. It's frustrating--no, insulting--to think that someone like Arthur is signing himself over to this fucking amateur. He knows he can do better, and he sets out to prove that he can give Arthur what

Severus Snape wasn’t supposed to die. Neither was Harry Potter.

Yet another one of those Harry And Draco Are Forced To Be Together By Something Beyond Their Control And Then Stuff Happens Leading To Twoo Wuv stories. Because every HD writer has to write at least one.

Harry would do anything for his son, even follow in Orpheus's footsteps. The one where Harry has to rescue his son from the underworld.

Lieutenant Arthur leaves his post at an international training camp for dream sharing with his name on classified research on dreamshare and a fondness for Flying Officer Eames of the Royal Air Force. He isn't expecting to see Eames again, and he especially isn't expecting them both to be independently captured by an international coalition hellbent on distributing all possible information on the PASIV device to the general population. After negotiations for their release, the world's leading dream psychiatrist is brought on board to help with their rehabilitation. Dr. Mal Cobb isn't sure if she's up to the task.

When children are threatened, Severus Snape does the right thing for once and finds himself saddled with suspended Auror, Harry Potter. Some people can't help but be themselves, while others appear to be someone else. And, in the middle of it all, a meddling portrait finds unexpected freedom and hope for the future.

Harry's back to teach at Hogwarts. It's mostly boring, but he likes it that way. Snape likes it that way, too.

Harry could tell you exactly when it started, if you asked him. He could, but he wouldn’t.

THe one where Eames is a pop star and Arthur is hired to be his bodyguard. Very, very good.

Where Mycroft is an angel, Sherlock is a demon, and John is still John.

Arthur and Eames are on the verge of giving up mind crime when Cobb convinces Arthur to be his point man on one last job — which rather inevitably goes wrong. Eames is pulled into the mess as Cobb’s simple heist spirals into an attempt on inception. It’s time to stop trespassing on the dreams of others; building a home takes two sets of hands.

In which Eames writes (sometimes horrible) horoscopes to woo Arthur, much to the chagrin of everyone (read: Dom), and manages to even mess that up. Go figure.

And what if the passage out of this life
is like a flight from Seattle to St. Louis—

the long taxi out of the body, the brief
and terrible acceleration, the improbable

buoyancy, and then the moment when,
godlike, you see the way things fit

together:

Arthur's known since he was young that he has a knack for cooking and baking, and beginning culinary school only makes him more certain. But no matter how good he is, it seems Eames is better – which does not endear him to Arthur in the slightest. Eames, however, is quite determined to get Arthur to open up and stop being so uptight and prickly by any means necessary. While each hones his skill in the culinary arts (and Arthur desperately tries to convince Ariadne that the desired structural integrity of her cakes violates basic laws of physics), they increasingly find themselves drawn together, inside the classroom and out. Given such close quarters in the kitchen, and the amount of sensory stimulation involved with preparing all manner of food, it starts to become difficult for Arthur to retain his customary level of distance and detachment. And, as Arthur will find, when it comes to unsatisfied appetites, hunger is often the best sauce of all.

Arthur has been captured while protecting Eames, Eames is distraught and makes some mistakes, and everyone deals with the fall out.

I thought when love for you died, I should die.
It's dead. Alone, most strangely, I live on.

In a universe ruled by the masters of the City-Planets, Dominic Cobb and his friends are on the run for more than their lives. Dom's wife, Mal, has fallen prey to modification psychosis after being wired-in by Cobol, the true power behind the Gate-City.

When Dom falls into disorientating despair at the loss of his wife, his companions do what they can to keep things together, moving them to a borderland space station while they regroup – but those who once worked with and beside him as unthinking equals are now struggling to find their own place in a devastated world.

Dreamshare goes legal, Arthur goes corporate, Eames goes and (against his better judgement) falls in love.

How to steal a heart.

Brilliant BBC Sherlock fic - the one with colors and Sherlock and English not getting along and lovely characterization and the FIne and Not Fine lists. Long.

The thing about a secret is that it only ever stays a secret as long as only one person holds it. The thing about secret bolt-holes is that they are meant to never be found out. The thing about an entire circuit of bolt-holes around the world is that compromising one all too easily can mean compromising the others.

In which Arthur falls in love with the stranger from the cafe outside the train station and they talk. Via messages. On his window.

The nights are long in Arkham because not everyone sleeps, it’s not like insanity has a timetable.

Arthur got that scar when his sister (mostly) accidentally pushed him out of their tree house when he was nine. He landed on his head, split his scalp, needed 20 stitches to close the wound.

Summary: Sherlock takes John along for Christmas dinner with Mycroft and Mummy (And "Anthea", too). Over the course of the evening, John realises that everyone in the room - apart from him - seems to think that he and Sherlock are a couple. SHENANIGANS ENSUE. Sherlock/John pre-slash/slash.

It happens when a post-job drink becomes meeting one another shot for shot while trying to remain articulate and professional. This all goes swimmingly until Eames is halfway through another order and Arthur whispers in his ear, "I want you to lick your come off my chin."

Arthur can’t seem to make his schedule match up with Eames’, but that’s cool. It’s not like he misses him or anything

arthur is a marine biologist. eames is his rival, but eames doesn't know that.

au. eames is the trickster god of the ho-chunk nation. arthur is skeptical at best. written for this prompt.
r . 7519 words

How Am I Doing, Really?

You do not want me to answer that,
for it would mean peeling back my skin
splitting open my chest bones,
revealing a heart that still beats
though it is half the size it once was.

Harry is on the verge of becoming a full-fledged Auror when he learns Severus Snape is not dead. Relevant parts of the prompt are: “Rimming, light bondage, light spanking are great… Snarky (but reluctantly, deep down caring) Snape is Love and Mature Snarky-right-back Harry is even lovelier. First-time, or first time for them.”

Eames is a factory worker, a troubled migrant, and a madman. The city of Los Angeles stretches around him, writhing with dreams, and Eames can't shut them out.

Dumbledore's dead, and the war is hanging above a chasm of uncertainty. A teacher and a student, as that have always been. But in what discipline?

Snape takes Harry away and spends nearly a year training him to withstand any potential torture by Voldie

Arthur has his life all planned out and he's steadily achieving each of his dreams. He has a good job at one of the best architecture firms in the area right out of college and the hottest, suavest, if slightly repressed, boyfriend he could have ever asked for. So what if his best friend hates his boyfriend and won't tell him why? So what if his boyfriend's twin brother is built like a brick house and hilarious and charming to boot? And so what if his boyfriend is so deep in the closet he couldn't find his way out with a flashlight? Arthur is positive he's on the right path until he realizes he doesn't have a clue.

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

The man with a worn-out heart, sold his tools
so his wife wouldn't be left with that part of him
to deal with. How he had loved them
in his hands, each so perfectly designed
to fit the palm, the wheels, bits and teeth
made for one specific use.

Eames watches Arthur get off while they're on different jobs. A story of Skype flirting and self-abuse.

Harry was comfortable living in his little cottage with 22 animals. Then a little black rabbit arrived and changed everything ...

It goes a little something like this.

Eames is a spy and Arthur is an assassin and they have a lovely, bloody relationship.

The world is full of women
who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself
if they had the chance. Quit dancing.
Get some self-respect
and a day job.
Right. And minimum wage,
and varicose veins,

he next time Cobb needs some spare time he employs a babysitter to babysit the babysitter babysitting the babysitter.

Basically the one where there is a lot of babysitting.

Relax
 
Bad things are going to happen.
Your tomatoes will grow a fungus
and your cat will get run over.
Someone will leave the bag with the ice cream
melting in the car and throw
your blue cashmere sweater in the drier.

Arthur comes apart at the seams like any other human; the trick is that he is singularly skilled at hiding the evidence.

John is in love with Sherlock. He just isn't physically attracted to him. Fortunately, in Sherlock's mad world, that combination is ideal.

Eames seems to have stolen something from a gentleman with much more powerful associates than he’d anticipated, and out of all of his friends, he knows that Arthur (who, no matter what everyone thinks, is absolutely not retired) has the most comfortable sofa.