#minatheprofiler

            ; send me ❛ brush ❜ for my character’s reaction to your character running their fingers through my character’s hair.

      A small smile found its way onto John’s lips at the gesture.

   “Really?” He then asked, because now his hair was going to be messed up for the rest of the day. He didn’t need to do a lot with it, but he put a bit of effort into keeping it the way it was, and didn’t like like he had just gotten out of bed. 

SOME  ONE  WORD  PROMPTS .  

   John was used to patching up Sherlock, so having someone else to take care of was NEW to him. Usually it was Sherlock who got in trouble and had to be treated, very rarely Greg, but that was about it.

   “Alright, this might hurt a little.” He spoke, moving to disinfect the wound so he could bandage it properly. “Wanna tell me what HAPPENED? Just for the record,” He moved around again, picking up the bandage, “I’m used to not knowing what happened, but I ask anyways.”

      He had been gone for so long. Why?, he'd ask himself, over and over again. But there was no answer, not that he could find. He didn't know why he left. He didn't know why he'd stayed away for so long. And, now, he didn't know why he decided to return.

      But there he was. Standing in front of the door he had once been so familiar with. It felt unusual now, like looking into the face of a stranger. He drew in a deep breath, held it, and exhaled before raising his fist to the door. He didn't know what reaction to expect. Hell, he wasn't even sure if she still lived here. But he had not found any information suggesting she had moved, and so, with a racing heart, he rapped on the door two times, short and, he hoped, sweet.

     He held his breath until the door creaked open. Once he saw her face peering at him, looking confused, perhaps, it was like all the air escaped his lungs.

" Hi. " It was all he could think to say.

      Then, as if his brain jumpstarted itself and all of his neurons were firing again, he realised he should probably give some sort of explanation. His brain fired rapidly but his mouth was frozen. He felt as if he'd forgotten how to speak. After stuttering a couple of times, he managed to get a few words out of his head.

" I'm back. "

how would killing me make you feel? // accepting

introit - if your muse could revive one person from the dead, who would it be and why?     i answered this question here!

pie jesu - imagine someone asks your muse “what have you become?” write how they respond to that question.          “ now i am become death, destroyer of worlds, ”  hannibal quotes with a benign smile.

BUZZFEED UNSOLVED.

“Mm, virgins blood only please,” she laughs but upon looking up, her smile drops. 

ugh all your gifsets are so beautiful!