royal_tenenbaum
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Summary
The story of how Eames and Arthur meet is one of the great legends of the dream-sharing profession.
In it, there's a dark alley, a foreign country, a bar, a punch in the face, a loaded die, a poker chip, a three-piece suit, and a kiss. Not necessarily in that order. And not necessarily all the time.
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Bookmarked by royal_tenenbaum
21 Sep 2014
Bookmarker's Notes
“Most of the time, I can tell it's not real now.” He pulls a square red die from his pocket. “Loaded die. Always hits six in reality. In the dream, it's not consistent.”
Arthur smiles and pulls his poker chip out. “Rough edges. No rough edges in the dream.”
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“This isn’t a hotel.” Eames tried to sit up and gave up before even getting his head off the pillows; he pouted, as though that were a thing for grown men to do, and Arthur merely watched as he then braced his right arm—the one that wasn’t black and blue from wrist to bicep and in a splint on top of that—on the bed and hauled himself into a very slightly more upright position slowly, grimacing as he did.
“No, it’s not a hotel,” Arthur said at last, holding out the mug. Eames took it, looked into it, and frowned deeply at it before dumping the small cocktail of pills it held straight into his mouth. Arthur took the mug back to pour some of the actual tea. “What the hell makes you think I’d take you to an AirBnB?”
“Well, I seem to have awoken in a very twee cabin.”
“Fuck you,” Arthur said, and he set the mug and the pot down a little roughly on the table at the head of the bed and went off to see if the cold snap had hung around long enough for the front steps to need salting.
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Bookmarked by royal_tenenbaum
12 Apr 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
“You wanted to be in Rio even though I was there? You really are a workaholic.”
Arthur blinked at him, then quickly tore his eyes back to the road. He could’ve left it at that, but before he even had a chance to think about it he was already opening his mouth to say, “It wasn’t even though; it was because. I liked working with you. You’re the best. And every however many jobs you just fuck off back to Kenya or Croatia or wherever and drop off the radar for six months or a year and a half or however long, and I thought I should work with you while I could before you just disappeared again.”
Even as he said it, he really realized consciously, for the first time, that Eames hadn’t disappeared. It’d been three years since then, and he was still here, still working with Arthur more often than not, still parting ways after each job with something like, Let me know if anything interesting comes up, yeah?
and we loooooooove a good old defenestration in a fic
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Eddie’s eyes were studying Buck’s face, and whatever he saw there made him say, “there’s no way you can keep this from Maddie.”
“No,” Buck folded immediately. “I could try, but . . .”
Eddie’s mouth quirked into a smile, showing a dimple, and it was literally heroic of Buck to leave the house with all that going on. “Tell Maddie,” Eddie offered. “Swear her to secrecy. And we’ll just keep it to ourselves until Chris is back on Friday.”
He was so smart. His best friend was so smart and also wanted to kiss him and also said they were practically engaged.
“Good plan,” said Buck, fighting gravity to continue his way out the door. “It’s just one week. How hard could it be?”
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On a very normal Sunday, Buck and Eddie confess their feelings for each other; what follows is a week of the least normal behavior the LAFD has ever seen.
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Bookmarked by royal_tenenbaum
26 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
from ravi entering the roof like a madman to chimney showing everyone pictures of jee to oblivious bobby this is THEE funniest thing i've ever read. this is my FAMILY and THIS IS MY BUDDIE CANON
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Buck doesn’t know what he’s going to say next. All he hears is the awful sound of splintering wood, a beam emancipating itself from above them. Without another thought, Buck lunges forward and pushes Eddie out of its path.
When Buck falls through the unstable give of the floor, he feels a bone chilling terror. But it’s okay, because Eddie was knocked away. The beam missed him.
Then, a terrible noise like thunder, a mammoth of sound, and Eddie is falling too. Why is Eddie falling too?
Buck takes a great big tumble. Like always, Eddie is right behind him.
Bookmarked by royal_tenenbaum
23 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
just let eddie bring their joint hands to his mouth and rest them thereeeeeee
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He turns, scooping up his sneakers as he goes, and climbs back over the rocks. Fifteen feet between them now, and their eyes meet. Steve’s got a paper bag of groceries under one arm, balanced on his hip like a sassy single mom, and he doesn’t drop them but he pales, looks like he wants to. Eddie sees his shoulders stiffen and he asks, hoarse, “Who died?” “You did,” Eddie tells him.
Ten years on, in a town in Nova Scotia, on the edge of the Atlantic, Eddie finds Steve again, and also maybe himself.
Series
- Part 1 of (meet me tonight in atlantic city)
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Bookmarked by royal_tenenbaum
12 Feb 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
He leans his forearms against the open passenger side window of Steve’s truck, presses his fingers against the heating vents. He’s got it cranked up pretty far and it stings a little but Eddie’s never really known how not to pull away from things that hurt him. Case in fucking point:
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” says Steve.
somehow takes you back in time to the glory days of fanfiction - the year of our lord 2014