Inception + ao3 tags
it’s so important for your health and well-being to get overly attached to a fictional man who is both deeply amoral and unbelievably, pathetically sad
writing fanfiction is just. i’m being so creative and original. i’m plagiarizing everyone by accident. i’m a genius. i’m cringe. i’m too angsty. i’m too cheesy. this is not in character. it doesn’t matter that it’s not in character because these are my characters now. i love my hobby. this is the worst possible use of my time. i’m seeking validation. i’m projecting my own personal problems onto this story and i’m barely hiding it. i know so many words and i’m using all of them wrong. im on tumblr posting about it instead of writing it.
Pedro Pascal + the three stages of fangirling
Don’t know what I would’ve done without fanfiction this year.
Here I am once again enabling your writing and being as selfish about it as every other time because is it really enabling if it’s done out or self indulgence??? ANYWAYS— dream husbands + (not so) fake marriage:
I have almost definitely said it before but by god I will say it again: the funniest possible way to do the whole “fake marriage” trope would be like two people getting married so they can invoke the spousal privilege that lets them refuse to testify against one another in court. a couple of mobsters sweating bullets in a vegas wedding chapel so they aren’t compelled to rat on each other when the next heist inevitably goes sour
I am absolutely in love with this concept and it’s 100% A Thing now asjdsfks You’re the best enabler a local trash goblin could ever dream of ^-^ so this 100% deserves a long fic full of mutual pining and the two of them being idiots and it’s definitely going to get one because I have zero self control, but here’s a short snippet about how it all started.......
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Arthur leaned his head back against the cinder block wall with a frustrated sigh. This was bad. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d ended up in police custody, but it was the first time he’d ended up in custody with actual decent evidence against him. Maybe even a prosecutable case. If he could get out he could maybe disappear- he’d gotten very good at that over the years- but he couldn’t make bail without accessing…less than legal funds, which would be more than enough for them to remand him. But if he couldn’t make bail, he’d be stuck in custody until court, and that would complicate things. And if this went to court, he wasn’t getting out of it. Not easily at least. He just hoped Eames had managed to get away without being caught; he knew Cobb had but he wasn’t so sure about Eames. Things would get even more complicated if they were both in custody. The sort of complicated that could get them both put away for a couple of decades if they weren’t careful.
He and Cobb hadn’t even supposed to end up in the states to begin with. Cobb was still very much a wanted man here, so it simply wasn’t an option. Canada was certainly a risk- the physical proximity and ease of extradition made Arthur nervous- but it had been a good sounding job. Easy sounding, with a good payout. It’d gone south though, both figuratively and literally, and when they’d found themselves in Chicago Arthur had scrambled for a way to get Cobb back out of the country undetected. Eames had thankfully been finishing up a job in the area and offered to help with documentation, but not before the authorities had caught wind of the situation. Cobb had thankfully managed to get out before the raid, but Arthur hadn’t quite been so lucky. The charges he’d been arrested on certainly hadn’t been the worst they could’ve been- mainly aiding and abetting, accessory, and fraud- but they weren’t great either. And unless he managed to somehow get out of this cell, he’d likely be facing time for them.
He was, quite simply, fucked.
“Come on.” The sound of the cell door being unlocked pulled Arthur from his thoughts. “You’ve made bail.”
He looked over, surprised. “I…did?”
“Yep. Your husband put it up.” The officer stared at him with a bored expression. “Now come on. Unless you’d rather stay.”
Husband? Arthur couldn’t fathom who the officer could’ve possibly been referring to, but he kept his expression neutral as he stood up and walked out of the cell into the hallway. He was certainly confused but he wasn’t an idiot; this wasn’t the time to look a gift horse in the mouth by asking questions. If it got him out of jail for the moment, he could work with it. He’d figure out the details later.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he walked into the jail lobby. Of all the people he thought he might’ve seen waiting for him, he certainly hadn’t expected it to be fucking Eames. There he was though, leaning against the lockers as casually as could be. He flashed a warm smile as he caught sight of Arthur and Arthur nodded slowly in return, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Bailing Arthur out put Eames at significant risk; Arthur knew full well he had several active warrants in the states. Unless he’d already been caught as well. But if that was the case, the most sensible thing for him to do was disappear, not get Arthur out of jail by pretending to be his fucking husband, which brought up a whole other set of questions on its own.
The officer behind the window slid him a bag filled with the belongings he’d had on him when he was arrested: wallet, keys, belt, notebook, three pens. No passport though. He frowned slightly at that; it wasn’t surprising, but it was annoying. He was going to have to use a different one to get out of the country anyways, but it would’ve been far easier if he’d had the original one as well. He sighed and collected his belongings, only half listening as the officer ran through the expectations for him while he was out on bail before walking over to where Eames was waiting by the door.
Eames leaned in and pulled Arthur into a quick hug, startling him. “Good to see you, darling. Glad I was able to get you out.”
“Right. Yes.” Arthur tried not to let his rapidly growing confusion show as Eames slipped his arm around his waist. “Good to…good to see you too.” He followed Eames out of the building, blinking in the sudden sunlight. They walked like that for several blocks, keeping up the appearance of whatever the fuck sort of cover Eames had gone with. It wasn’t until Arthur was confident that they were far enough away from the jail that they were likely only being watched from afar that he stopped, pulling away and finally letting his internal bewilderment creep into his expression. “Eames, what the fuck was that?”
“That was me getting you out of jail, darling, try to be at least a little appreciative. Though I’m sure I could return you if that’s what you’d prefer.”
Arthur stared at him. “What are you even still doing here?”
Eames grimaced, running a hand through his hair. “I got picked up too. They didn’t have quite enough to keep me in custody, but they managed to freeze most of my accounts and I’m pretty sure they have me under pretty close surveillance, so getting out of town is a tad difficult at the moment. Besides,” he shrugged, “I figured someone had to get you out of jail. And with Cobb jumping ship, that left me.”
“So you claimed to be my fucking husband?”
“Listen, I was just thinking ahead. We’re both stuck in this, at least for now, so I figured I’d get us some protection in case this got to court before we could get out of it.” He quirked an eyebrow. “They can’t make us testify against each other if we’re married. Spousal privilege and all. One of the few things you Americans do right.”
“Yes, thank you Eames, wonderful idea.” Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to wrap his mind around what Eames was telling him. He could already feel a migraine starting from the stress. This had already been an absolute fucking mess and Eames’ little ploy had just made it ten times worse. “Except for the fact that are aren’t actually married, which I’m sure will make us look great once the investigators find-”
“Yes we are.”
Arthur’s thoughts screeched to a halt and he looked up in confusion. “We’re what?”
“We’re married.”
He stared at Eames, dumbfounded. Was this what having a stroke felt like? Because that was clearly what he was having right now. “Eames, we’re not married.”
“Well, not technically, no. But I have all the necessary paperwork to argue to the contrary.” Eames shrugged. “I mean, it’s all forged of course, but as far as the US government is aware, you and I were legally married three years ago in England.” He gave Arthur an unimpressed look. “I know you don’t think highly of me, love, but you should at least give me enough credit to know I wouldn’t try pulling something like this off without the necessary paperwork backing it up.”
“Eames, we’re not married.”
“You and I know that but according to the authorities we are, so let’s try to keep it that way, yes? It’ll be better for both of us if we do.” Arthur continued to stare at Eames, trying desperately to think of something, anything, to say but drawing a blank instead. After a moment, Eames’ expression shifted to amusement. “Close your mouth, darling, or you’ll catch flies.”
Arthur snapped his mouth shut, pinching the bridge of his nose again. The beginnings of his headache came rushing back full force and he groaned. “I really hate you sometimes, you know that?”
Eames frowned. “Well that’s not a very nice way to talk to your very loving husband who just bailed you out of jail.”
“Eames, I swear to god…”
“Alright, alright, calm down, don’t have an aneurysm. Hopefully we’ll be able to get out of all of this before we really have to play that up. In the meantime, though,” Eames gave Arthur a somewhat sheepish smile, “I’m hoping you have a place here in Chicago, because I don’t and it might look a bit odd if we’re staying in separate hotels.”
Arthur sighed. “Yeah, I know a place.” It was technically one of Cobb’s apartments, but it would work well enough for them. It certainly wasn’t like Cobb was currently using it. He set off down the sidewalk. “I can’t believe you got us into this.”
“Technically it was Cobb who got us both into this lovely situation, darling, not me. I’m just trying to keep us both out of prison.”
Arthur groaned again. Christ, this was going to be a fucking mess.
*accidentally gets obsessed with something*