First off, ♥. Hah, I know. Sometimes I feel like you'll think I'm making things up in common with you, but I'm not. We're just that ridiculous. And, hint hint, if you're interested I can show you secret fic that is supposed to be secretive till December 1, shh.
And...I want to read it again, right now. Because I don't think I soaked up all of its beauty. The lack of fluff was definitely not a problem, because I do love angst so much more.
Boy Remus was just perfect. Gentle and wide-eyed.
And god, this? When they come back from the lake with leaves in their hair, and Sirius' tie askew, autumn on their knees and on their faces, in their hapless boy-grins, Remus crumples a little bit but goes on drinking his cocoa. (No, I'm okay. Yes, I'm fine.) So Remus.
You slip in the most subtley powerful words, like dismantled here: He will allow himself to be led up to their room and faithfully undressed, dismantled.
I loved it all. Happy birthday to me! Thank you, love.
Aww, thank you. *blushes* I was a bit hesitant to post in hp_lit because I'm really not as sure of this piece as I have been of others, but now I guess I should. *is a validation whore*
Thank you so much! Yours is the kind of review I adore, especially when I've been uncertain about my work. It's a very pleasant thing to wake up to. :) I'm so glad you liked it.
Dammit. I'm supposed to be writing papers and such, but I felt like reading this again. And it gets better the fourth time, did you know?
New favorite line: He will have something else instead, a hopeless, flailing, useless love to buoy him through a series of rundown flats in dodgy parts of the city, an amorphous, bewildering sense of victory that has nothing to do with winning and everything to do with being one of the ones left behind. Dammit. How do you do that?
Comments 10
WHOA.
First off, ♥. Hah, I know. Sometimes I feel like you'll think I'm making things up in common with you, but I'm not. We're just that ridiculous. And, hint hint, if you're interested I can show you secret fic that is supposed to be secretive till December 1, shh.
And...I want to read it again, right now. Because I don't think I soaked up all of its beauty. The lack of fluff was definitely not a problem, because I do love angst so much more.
Boy Remus was just perfect. Gentle and wide-eyed.
And god, this? When they come back from the lake with leaves in their hair, and Sirius' tie askew, autumn on their knees and on their faces, in their hapless boy-grins, Remus crumples a little bit but goes on drinking his cocoa. (No, I'm okay. Yes, I'm fine.) So Remus.
You slip in the most subtley powerful words, like dismantled here: He will allow himself to be led up to their room and faithfully undressed, dismantled.
I loved it all. Happy birthday to me! Thank you, love.
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Please post in hp_lit won't you?
*pokes*
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I was a bit hesitant to post in hp_lit because I'm really not as sure of this piece as I have been of others, but now I guess I should.
*is a validation whore*
Thanks again.
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New favorite line: He will have something else instead, a hopeless, flailing, useless love to buoy him through a series of rundown flats in dodgy parts of the city, an amorphous, bewildering sense of victory that has nothing to do with winning and everything to do with being one of the ones left behind. Dammit. How do you do that?
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