c/s drabble

[ahpookishere]

He has always known the under-voices, the sub-voices, emerging from the drop beneath a precipice, an edge against which all living things are situated. It must be the high concentration of psychics that scuttle and limp and march trip-hammer time down its halls, uttering words and nonwords, their minds unable to be contained by skin and bone. It’s

Comments

[voksen]

it is good, you whiny person, you.

[ahpookishere]

I will throw a temper tantrum.

[ahpookishere]

I have a very serious Schuldig needs Crawford for his quietness kink

yesyesyesyesyes

damn if a telepath wouldn't be able to pick up on them, and this is what I was hoping you'd do and you did.

Our telepathy, of course.

Recently, I have learned: writing from prompts is hard. Very hard. Much harder than it seems. Even when they are only teeny tiny drabbles. Still, livejournal is all about learning experiences lately.

I love you so much I would willingly give you the cherry off my hot fudge sundae.

Also, I showed Vietnam thing to someone who was actually around in that time frame, and apparently they did not have plastic chairs. I am having a hard time believing this. I thought plastic chairs were ubiquitous. They have been around since the Roman Empire, at least.

[guiltyred]

This is perfect in its simplicity. Schuldig's gift/curse/madness and Crawford's calm are inevitable together, drawing one another like magnets.

[ahpookishere]

Thank you. :) I'd like to think Crawford anchors Schuldig, in a way.