Arthur nods and looks around, obviously trying to find Yusuf and Callie and Filip. Eames says, “I think they’re all right without us.” Arthur doesn’t seem to hear this at first--he keeps casing the room. Eames waits. After a couple of seconds--Arthur really is fairly drunk, Eames reminds himself--the penny drops. Arthur’s head snaps back around, and he gives Eames an incredulous, open-mouthed look. Then he laughs.

“Jesus,” he says, “You’re kidding me.”

“Somewhere air-conditioned,” Eames says, leaning close again although he doesn’t really have to. No one is paying attention to them. “It’s blistering in here.”

Arthur’s still smiling, staring at him, as if he’s just recognized Eames after a long absence. // god this was so good and hurt so well

a lovely and charming story of arthur being a commitment-phobe and eames accidentally moving in <3333333

'Stay with me, Eames,' Arthur says, and that burns its way into Eames's anoxic, anaemic brain, along with the shape of Arthur's mouth as he says it, and that cross-references itself to Arthur one night in a hotel room with a stomach full of bourbon and a head full of nonsense and an arse full of Eames's tongue and fingers, and Eames thinks define love before he passes out entirely. // fuck, this is why i love, love, love trojie's fics.

THAT TIME I RECCED AN ARTHUR/EAMES FANFIC IN SALON fjkladf

That when the 4 train leaves the station, it sometimes sounds like "Somewhere" from "West Side Story"

"Is this just a big game of pigtail pulling?" Arthur asks from above him, lip still curled, hands switching from fists to wide open palms is even turns. Eames jerks himself off instead of answering. // FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.

scream. what did i just read. <33333 Arthur is a squid;
Eames loves him anyway; does it count as bestiality? fuck the laws of nature; what the hell is science?

"I've been thinking," says Eames in Lisbon. "Oh, God," says Arthur. "Why do you never write me love letters?" says Eames. "Oh, God," says Arthur. // oh this is so lovely and painful and sweet and EAMES.

If you are cornered by a harasser, or otherwise unable to make good your escape, speak loudly and enunciate clearly so that others in the area can hear you. Inform the person that they are encroaching on your space and you demand to be let free immediately—in whatever verbiage you choose, although I encourage you to stay calm and stay away from cursing, which can trigger flooding in assailants and force a physical confrontation.

If the harasser refuses to comply, or even if you are unwilling to give the person the time to consider it, reach out to any passer-byes. Ask clearly for someone to fetch con staff and, at your best judgment, to call the police. Physical restraining, even by unspoken threat of physical cornering, is a serious issue.

Under no circumstances should you feel bad about asking for help.

omg mefi does sherlock fanfic

That time Hugh Howey urged his fans to publish their Wool fanfiction and get paid for it. (Too bad he then went and killed all that amazing good karma by being a creepy misogynist.)

fantastic showcase tumblr

"We don't need two rooms. On the next job." Arthur's voice was quiet, but clear.

Eames jerked his head up, and Cobb had smoothed his look of incredulity away, but not quickly enough.

"Are you sure?" He was looking at Arthur, and there was some knowledge, some insight in his voice that prompted a flash of jealousy in Eames.

Arthur nodded. "I'm sure."

Something inside Eames sang hallelujahs.

They’re in a Syrian airfield. To one side is a river, and sand, and fields of locust-ridden wheat. To the other is a city, carved with the memory of first meetings, a wooden boat, and a job gone wrong. Arthur never does know how Eames died that time, whether it was with a bullet to the skull or a knife in the stomach. All he knows is that they’re both alive, here, in the gap between the hangar door and its frame, Eames blowing smoke rings and the wind pulling them apart. Arthur thinks: I’m going to dream about this for the rest of my life.

kindofa lawyer AU! v v cute. :D “I guess the sex wasn’t anything to write home about then, hmm?” Ariadne mused as off-handedly as she could, sliding down from the counter stool and padding across the kitchen.

Arthur gave her a look. “It was the best drunk sex of my life,” he said, deadpan.

Ariadne smirked and patted his arm in passing. “That’s my boy.”

Arthur mutters viciously. “You never can be helpful,” he grumbles. Eames realizes there are bruise-dark circles of exhaustion under Arthur’s eyes, that Arthur’s face has that manic look which means he’s wound far too tightly.

“When was the last time you slept?” Eames asks. “Or ate?”

Arthur shrugs, wincing as he does so, and raises a hand to rub his shoulder. “I’ve been busy trying to gauge how fucked we are.”

“And now you’ve worked that out, you’re still too busy to bother with such petty worries,” Eames says, exasperated. “Stop that, you’re not doing any good; unbutton your shirt and let me.”

Surprisingly, Arthur obeys.

why don't i have this fic bookmarked! it's as fantastic now as it was last year! // When Arthur turns, he holds out the line. “Do mine, will you?”

Arthur takes the line without hesitation. It’s a little surprising--Eames has already got his excuse ready, a lie about having used his left arm too much lately, and his left hand’s no good with the cannula, and so on. He doesn’t have to say a word of it. He just has to stand there while Arthur pushes his sleeve up past his inner elbow, then bends over and inspects it.

“Make a fist.” Arthur lays two fingers on Eames’s skin, stroking lightly. He presses his thumb upstream on Eames’s vein and waits. Eames waits with him. He can feel the cool of Arthur’s fingertips, the light pressure he’s applying. They’re standing close together; he can see the dark spots that the rain has left on Arthur’s jacket. He can see the fine hairs on Arthur’s hands and neck, the faint blush of color in his cheek. He studies the color, wondering what to make of it.

The moment goes on until he realizes he’s aware of Arthur’s breathing, and that they’re standing so still that Arthur must hear his too. Then it’s a moment held in suspension, the whole world gone vague around them. The world, which has reduced itself to Arthur’s cool fingertips laid lightly on Eames’s inner forearm, and the almost inaudible sounds of their breath, in tandem.

thank you tumblr for showing me this because it's fabulousssssssss and thoughtful and insightful and YAY FANVIDS <3

when you accidentally reread a fic that you couldn't figure out what to do with the first time, so you left it in a limbo of un-pinboarded, perhaps on the offchance that when you accidentally reread it later you would know what to do with it. only when you reread it, perhaps because you know how things come out, it feelz more solid and satisfying than you remember. and arthur has never had such a well-deserved, fanservicey punch in the face. // When Arthur was moderately sure he had told him everything, he shut up. Dom kept on looking elsewhere, silent. They sat there for a while, listening to the dusk insects raise their ruckus. It was a warm night.

“I can't wear vests,” Dom said finally, still not looking at him, “I detest them.”

Arthur tried to be a good boy and exhaled slowly instead of punching Dom. He hated cryptic bullshit. But Dom was good at knowing what people wanted, what people needed, so Arthur humored him and gave it some thought.

“Are you saying Eames is a vest?” he asked incredulously after a while. “Is this a very weird, politically correct way to say you're not a homosexual or something?”

Dom threw a reproachful look at him, as if Arthur was being deliberately dense. But no, Arthur's bewilderment was honest. Dom tried again.

“I don't really enjoy Bach, his music doesn't make me feel alive, just bored.”

teensy but of yusuf/ariadne, and oh, yusuf <3333

"I wasn't expecting you to fret," Eames says, and Arthur's body relaxes, abruptly, sagging against Eames. Eames embraces him automatically, but Arthur doesn't grip him back, doesn't even try, arms dangling beneath Eames's encircling hold; if all of Eames's molecules abruptly underwent a coordinated quantum uncertainty, right now, Arthur would probably hit the floor before he could catch himself.

ahahaha adorable.

"Arthur," Eames said, "is that the smell of burning roses?"

Arthur sniffed the air for a moment, then scowled. "Motherfucker!" he hissed. "We probably should have put the candles out first."

Eames, thankful for the semi-darkness, rolled his eyes. "We probably should have used fewer roses."

"Fuck you, asshole," Arthur snapped, "I'm just thorough."

"You are a marvel of thoroughness," Eames agreed. "Now go put out the fire so we can have sex."

A/E, genderbending, HOT <3

Eames trails one errant finger from Arthur's forehead, down his nose, across the ridge of his throat. The look Arthur gives him is questioning.

"Maybe I don't want to wreck you."

"That's fine, too." Arthur takes Eames' hand by the thumb, guides it over to the condom, "But you're still going to fuck me."

Eames woke up with his arse sore and a crick in his neck. He rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty, which didn't surprise him in the least because Arthur almost never stayed, not when he could wander away to whatever bigger and better things there were out there.

GUH. The knife slips easily through her shirt and pants. She tenses but her legs wobble like wet noodles. Mal kicks at a knee; Ariadne's stomach and feet drop from under her and she's hanging from the steel crescents emblazoning themselves into her wrists. (The etching of those crescents is like sketching a dome onto a building: there has to be something underneath to support her. She isn't sure if there is.)

this was really very lovely, and i love it when arthur does the pining and even more when he does the go-getting. sort of. <3 Subject: pedantry

Facts about Providence, Rhode Island:
-Population of 178,042
-The local accent is non-rhotic
-Founded by Roger Williams in 1636
-Home to the fourth oldest library in the country
-Notable residents past and present include horror writer H.P. Lovecraft, novelist Cormac McCarthy, and Arthur Szymanowski, who listens to Bryan Ferry and chews the ends of his pens while thinking about your beautiful mouth.

Arthur's hand is in a cast, so he talks Eames through repairing the PASIV. [6,556 words]. i need some kind of tag that's just like 'arthur and eames make the best partners ever' except then i'd be using it on ALL the fics! except here it's particularly wonderful and endearing. (ALSO THIS IS KIND OF ALMOST 'PASIV-MAKES-THEM-DO-IT' :D)

i think i have this bookmarked elsewhere but whatever, ARTHUR AND EAMES ARE IN LOVE <333333333333333

oh, this story is lovely and satisfying and warm like a fireplace on a frozen day.

because Victoria Secret and La Senza and whatever are full of shit and you are definitely wearing the wrong size ok? ok

this is the documentation for the claim that 99.4% of rape accusations are true and only .06% are false. check the background context!!!!!

LOOK GUYS IT'S OUR OWN FANDOM SEARCH PAGE BECAUSE MACIEJ LOVES US <3

allow me to piggyback on the words of a commenter to this fic: "if Metatron is the voice of God, you are the voice of Dean Winchester. If anyone ever wrote a great Dean character study, this writing takes that study, salts it-burns it and then brings it back for a do-over. "

this fic is amazing, 90,000 words of plot and romance and faith and war and intricate mythology and poignancy. It's a must-read even if you're not in the SPN fandom.

Looking at a sample of 669 games that had protagonists with discernible genders, only 24 had exclusively female protagonists. Action had the most female protagonists, shooters had even less, and role-playing games had exactly one game with a female only hero. In all three genres, a little under 300 games gave the option of a female lead. ... Games that allow you to choose your gender are reviewed better than games that offer male-only heroes, but the games with male only heroes sold better. In terms of pure sales numbers, in the first three months of availability, games with only a male hero sold around 25 percent better than games with an optional female hero. Games with exclusively male heroes sold around 75 percent better than games with only female heroes. ... So the conclusion is easy. If you want to make money, you can’t have female heroes leading your game, right? Not so fast…

Games with only female heroes are given *half the marketing budget as games with male heroes.* That’s an enormous handicap that cripples their ability to sell well. “Games with a female only protagonist, got half the spending of female optional, and only 40 percent of the marketing budget of male-led games. Less than that, actually,” Zatkin said.

THAT TIME I WAS ON THE BBC discussing sexism in geek culture! (Starts at 47:50.)

There's a Twitter feed called "The Rap Quotes" that, well, tweets out daily quotes from rap songs. Recently, the person behind that feed has been blasting out photos of artist Jay Shells' latest project (perhaps Shells himself is behind the feed?): a series of street signs containing quotes from rap lyrics posted in the exact NYC geographical location mentioned in the lyrics. For instance, as seen above Shells posted a Mos Def lyric sign mentioning Myrtle and Broadway in Bushwick, Brooklyn to a sign post on the corner of Myrtle and Broadway in Bushwick, Brooklyn.

rape culture, sexual harassment, cons.

that time Harlan Ellison groped Connie Wallis at the Hugos, ughhhhhhhhhhhh #pig #rage #disgust #rape culture #sexual harassment at conventions

omg it's a 63,000-word Felix Felicis H/D fic endorsed by Amalin, omggggggggg

Hi, pinboard! I can't believe we're already halfway to our goal, but we're starting to stall out and that's no fun! Please check it out and support me, jibrailis, Gyzym, eleveninches, cobweb_diamond/hellotailor, and a whole bunch of incredibly talented writers! We don't want to do this without you, and we're thrilled that we might have the chance to do it at all. Please help us fight like girls! :D

TOM HARDY AND/OR EAMES HAS A PUPPY, YOUR ARGUMENT IS INVALID!

Dear Margaret--

Well....is it any good? A good bit of my objection to fanfic (aside from the copyright issues--and I'm not sure how these apply when you take characters from one medium and implement them in another; particularly when one medium is TV, in which episodes may be written by a lot of different people) is that 99% of it is Just Awful, and it's revolting to see your characters being made to do and say idiotic things, or be forced to enact simple-minded sex fantasies (which is what most fan-fic that comes to my unwilling attention is). Like someone selling your children into white slavery.
--Diana
www.dianagabaldon.com

another one i read ages ago but never saved, for shame! // Arthur has been in his life for three years; in his bed for almost one, and Eames writes an absentminded note on a scrap piece of paper that the Thursday two weeks from today is their anniversary before he realizes what he’s doing and rips it up, horrified. Just a few days ago when Arthur finished tailing the mark and managed to get home before he did he found himself calling Arthur in the kitchen saying, “Yeah, I’ll be a bit late since someone insisted on a third run-through,” then, “No, of course I won’t name names,” and finally, “Obviously you should try to keep dinner warm for me, you bastard. Alright. I’ll see you soon.” Half an hour later he’d woken up from the run-through dream and was automatically pulling the line out, thinking, I wonder if he wants me to pick up something for dessert, and then, holy fuck.

:D

syndicated! \o/ // crosslink: http://www.nbcnews.com/technology/technolog/new-york-city-calls-pregnant-teens-fat-bizarre-mobile-game-1C8732386

<3 i should probably bookmark this perfect creation already

His hands will be the first to go numb, if Eames leaves him, followed by his feet. He’s in some sort of odd fugue now, but that will fade as the hours stretch on and the gag and plug get more insistent. The blindfold will confuse things, turn minutes into hours and hours into eternities. How long before Arthur would start to wonder if he’d die in those bonds? Before he’d be certain of it?

can't believe i didn't save this earlier. SO GOOD :(((( // "Hungry, are you?" Eames asks, as he pulls away from the dilapidated shopping center.

"Like the wolf, Eames," Arthur says. Then he goes quiet, like someone shut him off, staring up the road at the setting sun.

"Everything all right?"

"I know you," is Arthur's answer. "Sometimes I think I've known you for years."

"Yes, of course. That's because you have."

"I mean sometimes like right now I think I've known you for all of the years, all of the future years too, like a wad of years crumpled like a piece of paper and you can look through the paper and see some of the years."

FARM BOY, PASS ME THAT FILE

ugh how have i not saved this before? it's so lovely and pleasant. the one where they make each other laugh <3

oh god MY EMOTIONS *flaps hands at monitor* *falls in love*

GOD I LOVE INCEPTION FANDOM <3

Eames didn’t really know anyone who did that in real life before now; or rather, he didn’t realize he knew someone who did.

i have read this before but forgot to save! yay, truth serum fic :D

Lack of love for him aside, Arthur knows that Eames will never be content to settle down.

Eames is and will be eternally twenty-nine, eternally vivacious and brilliant and so-bright-it-hurts. Eames is larger than life, flitting his way across the continents, charming and conning and breaking hearts, forever content with his nomadic existence, the world too small for one man. Eames is like summer sunlight in the palm of your hand, warm and heady and flirting heat, untamable and uncatchable, doomed to die a fiery death, blazes of glory that stories will be spun from.

Once upon a time, Arthur believed that he could keep up with Eames, could maintain the breathless counterpoint that came with the forger’s flight across the world, hopping onto planes and jauntily traipsing onto boats. He thought he could do it; could move fast enough, run far enough, to keep abreast enough to dance in Eames’s periphery, tantalising enough to keep him coming back for more.

That was when Arthur was twenty-three. Now, Arthur is twenty-eight, and five years is a long time to keep running after someone who never slows down, never looks over his shoulder to see if he’s lost you.

Arthur stopped with at least three feet between them, extending a hand forward as he said, “Eames. It’s been a while.”

Arthur’s hand was cool, his handshake strong and unbearably professional. It was like he was any other colleague.

Eames chuckled wryly. “Five years, three months, and a week. A while, to be sure.”

This caused the solid wall of Arthur’s face to break, revealing a minute flinch and reddening of his cheeks.

“I’m surprised you remember that so clearly.”

Eames looked him dead in the eye and said, “Well, love. I measure time by the moments that I’m with you.” // WAH.

Nicely done!

SAITO WINS :D :D :D

15,800 words | "You don't have Cobb here to throw you into harm's way, so you're doing it to yourself.” // oh my god i loved this so much, it was creepy and terrifying and genuinely scary and awful, as well as well-crafted and suspenseful, and through it all Eames' and Arthur's attention and care for each other built until I was flailing with love. THIS SHIP.

Sexism and book reviews.

EVERY SINGLE BIT OF THIS IS THE TRUEST BIT OF THIS. 100%.

once again xkcd articulates one of the internet's universal truths <3

this is the first s6 fic i've read that i can stand, which is kinda ironic since although it's apparently a fandom classic, when it was written it was criticized bc Buffy was "too vulgar." OH, THE HORROR! lol old-school fandom. PWP set after they fuck the house down, with the right mix of the self-loathing!buffy we saw in S6, with hints of the affection that grows between them in S7. connecting those two states of buffy/spike seems to be very difficult, with good reason; but in this fic i can actually see it, and it's a real shame the author took their fic offline. Thank you, wayback machine! <3

oh my god

these are the (hundreds) of most overused tropes on TV Tropes. So illuminating. I find it so curious that "Big Bad" is #1 by far, as if every story is just one big video game and/or shounen manga arc, with a boss waiting at the end.

TILT: this is the site that gave rise to TV Tropes.

oh my god lydia and darcy are bonding over sock slides. i love this fandom. <3

I read this ages and ages ago and loved it but forgot to update my bookmark. Swirly and smart and sarcastic and AWESOME. UGH, i love them *so much.*

Eames laughs, and picks up his own hand, leaning back. All legs. Like a pile of dirty laundry heaped on one side of the bed.

"There are five thousand, one hundred and eight ways to hold a flush in a five-card deal," Eames announces proudly. "And three thousand, seven hundred and forty-four ways to hold a full house. Guess which I have."

"Neither," Arthur and Yusuf say at the same time.

uh, apparently i'm joining the buffy fandom 10 years after watching Buffy

<3

should probably save this since it's only one of the best fanvids ever.

omg MY NERO WOLFE TWITTER, FOR NERO WOLFE THINGS <3 don't lose it again!!!!

short but SO GOOD omg. oh Arthur/Eames :((

I keep rereading this and it keeps getting more awesome so i had better bookmark it. basically the most necessary, wonderfully articulate, jawdroppingly enlightening treatise on modern cinema you will read this year.