leia131 | Eek

Ok, I'm sorry, and I know no one reads these, but I can't help myself.

You are going to be subjected to some fanfic quotes. Deal with it.

Fic 1

There was nothing erotic about a nude and trembling Remus. Nothing. (This is said by Sirius, who is trying and failing to convince himself)

It was only when Remus swooned that Sirius remembered the importance of breathing.

Fic 2

It was quite sad, the way some men were brought low by underpants.

Crumbs had no place whatsoever in the jam and Moony always forgot...

He really loved explosions, particularly when they sparkled. (This is the best line ever!)

Moony, for his part, was pretty tolerant of it. Estella was a nice bike, he said, mortifying Sirius with the description. Estella was not nice- Estella was mad, bad, and dangerous to know. “Nice”, honestly.

It was all a façade, of course; the things that came out of that boy’s (Remus's) mouth when he was being held down and tickled would scandalize Mundungus Fletcher.

He needed the best exploding things he could find. With glitter, if possible. He wanted Moony to have bits of sparkly things stuck in his hair for weeks.

"Why y’kiss’n me?” he would murmur sleepily, and Moony would say, “’Cause you’re completely daft, now be quiet.”

There was simply nothing in the world as wonderful as a warm, sleepy Moony.

Moony rolled his eyes and snorted and in general tried very, very hard to look like an adult, but spoiled it by snickering.

“Snuffles?” Sirius hissed, looking pained, and Remus gave him a delighted, wicked grin and said yes, Snuffles, wasn’t that a nice name for a dog?

(The two get each other clouds that rain candy and presents down on their heads. This is Sirius' reaction.) He thought he might have candy hearts down the front of his shorts, and also possibly a concussion.

Fic 3

The trouble with living with another person, Remus thought... is that you’ve got to live with another person.

(Sirius' poem to Remus:)
Violets are purple
Your eyes are brown
You are the fellow
On whom I go down

Lily sipped her tea. “I kick James when he hogs the blankets. In the shins. Hard.”
“And what happens?” Remus asked.
“He wakes up, apologizes, hands back the blankets, and…”
“And?”
Lily shrugged. “We go back to sleep. If he hogs them again, I kick him again. If not…”

“You’re so...canine,” Remus grunted.
Sirius chuckled. “I’m your bitch."

I’ve been trying to get you into my bed forever; I’d never intentionally push you out.

“It’s amazing,” James confided unhappily, “the concessions men are willing to make when they haven’t gotten laid for two weeks.”

“Any idea,” grumbled Sirius, “is better than depriving me of sex.”
“I agree. Depriving you of sex means depriving me of sex. And frankly, I like getting laid,” Remus said.

(More of Sirius' poetry)
“Roses are red,
My eyes are grey,
Wouldn’t you hate it
If I weren’t gay?”

(Ok, Hannah, if you find yourself reading this, what exactly is the age difference between Lupin and Tonks? Because here she's four and drawing pictures of people while Remus watches her)
“Your nose is strange,” Dora commented.
“Sorry,” said Remus.
“I don’t like your nose. I’m not drawing it.”

"I did Mummy and Daddy and Cousin See-rus. My black crayon’s almost gone,” she complained.

There was a grey-eyed stick figure with what looked like a black storm cloud attached to his head. Beside him stood a slightly shorter stick figure with brown eyes, and no nose.

Ok that's it. I'm done. I'm sorry to subject you all to this, but I just can't keep my love of these stories quiet.

Oh, and Bart, nothing you ever tell me can rival the things I read about Remus/Sirius. But please don't try. Heh. Love ya!