there was PEER PRESSURE.
(okay, i lied. there was no pressure. this just wanted to be written. my brain ate the previous story's comments, which turned into +10 Power-of-Typing-Things. and -1000 for recycling my reply to
bookshop. *hides
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*running to your side in slo-mo*
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*and sends fleet of ambulances your way*
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“Eames, stop the fucking war.”
“I tried. Tony Blair wouldn’t go for it.”
You are amazing.
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<3^1000000
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I know exactly how you feel. I'm so sore about not getting to continue with Latin that I've made Eames and Yusuf take it in a fic I'm working on. THIS IS THE DEPTH OF MY OBSESSION.
And it was really funny, so just own it. ;)
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(what's that? have i been keeping up on my Attic Greek? uhhh. let me get back to you on that. *flails around in storage*)
and also. *narrows eyes* how do you know? perhaps you must go ONE LEVEL DEEPER. (to find Catallus. and maybe Pliny the Elder.)
owning it, owning it! <3
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