lauren3210 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lauren3210) wrote2015-10-31 09:40 pm
lauren3210) wrote2015-10-31 09:40 pm
Entry tags:
Rectober post (snuck in just under the wire)
I completely meant to do way more rectober posts than I actually did, because I forgot that my life in October was going to EXPLODE. Whic it did; I barely had time to breathe, let alone write up rec posts, so for that, I apologise profusely. However, last night I was in a chatroom with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gracerene, nia_kantorka and celestlyn, for our ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
online_bookclub discussion, and when the chatting turned to fanfic (because obviously) I remembered this one epic fic I had read long ago and promised to share it with you all here.
So, presenting: The Shoebox Project
Now, this fic is probably one of the most well known HP fanfic out there, and there are REASONS for that. It's vaguely Remus/Sirius based, but in fact it's mainly just Marauders Era amazingness. I actually have a theory that the reason JKR has never come out with a HP prequel is because this fic already exists, and she realised she couldn't do any better. Because seriously, this is everything. It's funny, it's cute, it's fucking hilarious, and if you haven't read it already, you need to, because your life isn't complete until you have. It's hella long, and it's only available in pdf format these days, and it only ever reaches PG-13 rating (at most), but don't let any of those paltry reasons stop you from enjoying the best thing that has ever been written. And here's a handy little excerpt, just in case I haven't managed to convince you yet:
"Hell." James has developed that struggling, clumsy desperation that only comes about in moments of dire need, restless panic, and certain doom. He has the feeling that his fingers have suddenly turned into sausages, for all they're listening to him. The zipper, stuck on itself, stuck on trouser fabric, stuck on his underwear, refuses to move until, at last, with Herculean effort, he rips the fly free completely. "Sirius," James says, deadly quiet, "my trousers are in two pieces. Give me your trousers."
"I'm not giving you my trousers!" Sirius objects. "I'll go!"
"And do what?" Peter asks around his sock.
"I told him not to talk," Sirius snaps, pointing an accusing finger first at Peter, then at James. "I told him not to talk!"
"And do what?" James repeats. His jaw is tight, hard at the edges, twisting the corners of his mouth.
"You don't even know what you're going to do!" Sirius explodes. "You just want to -- you just want my pants so you can run out there first and play hero, clean up all the messes, be James Potter, the only one who can clean up the messes other people leave. Well I won't have it! Wear his trousers!"
"As what," James snaps, temper and frustration making him tactless, "a very short poncho?" Peter goes white, and then red, and then very small in his chair. "I'm going to the bloody Willow, I'm going to haul Snape back by the neck if I have to, and you can stand there like an idiot or you can help, because I'm going. In broken trousers." James, considering these epic final words, spins around and hurtles out the door. Sirius gestures after him, mouth open, stares at Peter, stares at the door, and then his face goes tight.
"Fuck all!" Without waiting to confuse himself further, he breaks into a run after James, yanking his jacket over his shoulders.
"Bloody--" Peter says to no one, and sends a panicked glance out the window, at his own hands, at the abandoned sock. "What now?"
Go on, you know you want to. Take your time, and enjoy the hell out of this wonderful story. Happy Hallowe'en!
gracerene, nia_kantorka and celestlyn, for our online_bookclub discussion, and when the chatting turned to fanfic (because obviously) I remembered this one epic fic I had read long ago and promised to share it with you all here.So, presenting: The Shoebox Project
Now, this fic is probably one of the most well known HP fanfic out there, and there are REASONS for that. It's vaguely Remus/Sirius based, but in fact it's mainly just Marauders Era amazingness. I actually have a theory that the reason JKR has never come out with a HP prequel is because this fic already exists, and she realised she couldn't do any better. Because seriously, this is everything. It's funny, it's cute, it's fucking hilarious, and if you haven't read it already, you need to, because your life isn't complete until you have. It's hella long, and it's only available in pdf format these days, and it only ever reaches PG-13 rating (at most), but don't let any of those paltry reasons stop you from enjoying the best thing that has ever been written. And here's a handy little excerpt, just in case I haven't managed to convince you yet:
"Hell." James has developed that struggling, clumsy desperation that only comes about in moments of dire need, restless panic, and certain doom. He has the feeling that his fingers have suddenly turned into sausages, for all they're listening to him. The zipper, stuck on itself, stuck on trouser fabric, stuck on his underwear, refuses to move until, at last, with Herculean effort, he rips the fly free completely. "Sirius," James says, deadly quiet, "my trousers are in two pieces. Give me your trousers."
"I'm not giving you my trousers!" Sirius objects. "I'll go!"
"And do what?" Peter asks around his sock.
"I told him not to talk," Sirius snaps, pointing an accusing finger first at Peter, then at James. "I told him not to talk!"
"And do what?" James repeats. His jaw is tight, hard at the edges, twisting the corners of his mouth.
"You don't even know what you're going to do!" Sirius explodes. "You just want to -- you just want my pants so you can run out there first and play hero, clean up all the messes, be James Potter, the only one who can clean up the messes other people leave. Well I won't have it! Wear his trousers!"
"As what," James snaps, temper and frustration making him tactless, "a very short poncho?" Peter goes white, and then red, and then very small in his chair. "I'm going to the bloody Willow, I'm going to haul Snape back by the neck if I have to, and you can stand there like an idiot or you can help, because I'm going. In broken trousers." James, considering these epic final words, spins around and hurtles out the door. Sirius gestures after him, mouth open, stares at Peter, stares at the door, and then his face goes tight.
"Fuck all!" Without waiting to confuse himself further, he breaks into a run after James, yanking his jacket over his shoulders.
"Bloody--" Peter says to no one, and sends a panicked glance out the window, at his own hands, at the abandoned sock. "What now?"
Go on, you know you want to. Take your time, and enjoy the hell out of this wonderful story. Happy Hallowe'en!
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