(Well other than from saying incoherent things like "woooow" over and over again.)
I did not expect to read something so utterly amazing and touching and beautiful, and after reading this I'm just a slightly teary-eyed, speechless, incoherent, adoring mess.
Their vulnerability was tangible, and the way you let us in on every person's thoughts so beautiful! I particularly loved Lily and Sirius, like how they share James which leaves them feeling as if they know each other better than they actually do. And And of course james is on tboth their tongues is int he air between them. James is the cake they’re both sharing.
And Dorcas, oh god. This. Fucking. Paragraph:
It is 1978. No one in the room (not even Remus) has the words for what is happening in the space between Dorcas’s frank, not unsexual gaze at sirius, and sirius’s decidedly sexual and equally frank gaze back at Dorcas. it will be another decade before the word queer slips into the lexicon in any way that might apply here, another two dcecades before a space exists that is wider thant the ten inches between their two boides in wihch tehy night understant the source of their attreadtingon attraction not in their genders or the fuckiing with theriof, but in the embodiment of queerness itself.
I adore it!
Thank you for this amazing piece of drunken perfection. Please never stop writing.
no subject
(Well other than from saying incoherent things like "woooow" over and over again.)
I did not expect to read something so utterly amazing and touching and beautiful, and after reading this I'm just a slightly teary-eyed, speechless, incoherent, adoring mess.
Their vulnerability was tangible, and the way you let us in on every person's thoughts so beautiful! I particularly loved Lily and Sirius, like how they share James which leaves them feeling as if they know each other better than they actually do.
And
And of course james is on tboth their tongues is int he air between them. James is the cake they’re both sharing.
And Dorcas, oh god. This. Fucking. Paragraph:
It is 1978. No one in the room (not even Remus) has the words for what is happening in the space between Dorcas’s frank, not unsexual gaze at sirius, and sirius’s decidedly sexual and equally frank gaze back at Dorcas. it will be another decade before the word queer slips into the lexicon in any way that might apply here, another two dcecades before a space exists that is wider thant the ten inches between their two boides in wihch tehy night understant the source of their attreadtingon attraction not in their genders or the fuckiing with theriof, but in the embodiment of queerness itself.
I adore it!
Thank you for this amazing piece of drunken perfection. Please never stop writing.