( libs fic numero dos! )

Same rules appy: anything you'd like to contribute to make me less awkward (concrit is love!) is greatly welcomed :)

( libs fic 1 )

A/N: As you can see, I am painfully, awkwardly *not British*, so any wonderful suggestions you can make to make me sound less not-British (or any improvements you'd like to make to my obvious bullshit) are SO FREAKIN' WELCOME IT'S SORT OF NOT EVEN FUNNY. Like. I'd love you forever. That sort of thing.

Oh, and here. Have some really bad tie-in poetry:


he comes he goes like a whisper 'remember'
the only thing soft about him
his hair his skin like hooks to your lips;
bone-eyes that he stares you through in.
so he tears you asunder as he disappears under
a blanket of gin
his cowardice and sins;
as your next breaths begin in
'can't you hear me's and
'won't you listen's
then when he's returning on your edge of yearning
sodden and sure
wailing and galing
murmurs and pleads for 'remember me please'
but you can't understand
no you can't reprimand
so you blink and you sigh
and it's alright again

Blankity Blank Blank