the prodigy

Hamish Holmes. Might not wanna mention that part too often; I am more than just my father's son. Or less. Suppose that depends on who you ask, really. Ain't genetics just a bitch? {Independent, Multiship, Multifandom} {x}

[wigginstheprotege]

[mindpalaceheir]

"I'd say that I am wounded, but in all honesty, I'm really neither wounded nor surprised."

[duplicatam]

[mindpalaceheir]

"I'm planning to give you a heads up when I find out myself."

[mindpalaceheir]

[text] Pretty and philosophical? Aren't I just the catch for any respectable young man looking for confusing conversation? [text] Then again, he might just stare and not listen.

[TEXT] Why, Humbert Humbert, hold it right there. My secret has been foiled. -HH

[moran-est-tigris]

Sebastian closed his eyes, paused his walking when ‘Lancelot’ meandered into his pathway and stared into his face. Realising he was stood in another puddle he snarled and cursed under his breath, shook his foot. 

"Look, alright," he ground out, the tick in his jaw back again, "whatever it is you’re trying to do, can it wait? You want a little tête-à-tête with me you can have one, just not now." 

His phone began to vibrate in his hand, and not even glancing at the incoming message he shoved it back in his pocket. 

This kid was trying his patience. 

This kid was trying the patience of another name too. 

Moriarty. 

[mindpalaceheir]

The grin was not there, not just yet, but it did as much as layer his words, the infatuation of his tone now nested within the syllables.

"Such a serious matter."

Although difficult, Hamish retained a noise of 'tch, tch', because that would have surely granted him a cracked school, broad daylight or not, and breaking the thin ice he was gliding on wouldn't be any fun. The skill laid in being able to wear it down just enough for the water to break through, impetuous and miscalculated.

He measured (albeit that was a poor choice of words, diminishing the attentiveness he held in his glance) the other man, breathed along the rampant rhythm of his lungs, and did not let a single thought run astray, but still, still he couldn't quite put his finger on this odd sense of familiarity. 

[mindpalaceheir]

✉

[TEXT] ????? There's a woman in our house ????? -HH

[TEXT] What I ask is HOW is there a woman in our house. -HH

[TEXT] Are you that desperate that you gave into black magic as your booty call? -HH

[TEXT] Cause to be honest I can't imagine any other way for you to get a WOMAN in our house. -HH

[TEXT] I have a skittish feeling that I'm not emphasizing this enough. -HH

[TEXT] w o m a n -HH

[TEXT] i n -HH

[TEXT] o u r -HH

[TEXT] h o u s e -HH

[TEXT] Dad, did you brainwash her or something? -HH

[TEXT] Are you holding her as hostage? -HH

[TEXT] I think you need help. -HH

[mindpalaceheir]

[text] You have a dramatic flair. Reminds me of someone. Don't guess who. [text] I have my moments of being philosophical, but two seconds after being woken up isn't the time. [text] And I think they probably do.

[TEXT] Your moments of being philosophical? Oh, that's the understatement of the century. Your entire life is a moment of being philosophical, Vic. Embrace it. You're Nietzsche, only prettier. -HH

[TEXT] It's a marvel to know that. -HH

[mindpalaceheir]

INTERRUPTION i don't give a frick frack that it's super late just do it okay xoxo

25. Your muse walks in on mine singing

"...red, the color of desire, black, the color of desp--" He freezes in place as soon as he locks eyes with his sister, the rest of the words stuck at the back of his throat when he turns to face Peri with the expression of a man sentenced to death. And a bloody death if they're at it. Hamish starts the process of opening and then closing his lips several times, which, despite making him look like a gutted fish, it doesn't aid much in any other ways. The dark haired boy exhales a grieving sigh, runs a hand across his features, and wallows in a very dramatic state of being. "I do hope you realize I'm going to have to kill you now, right?"

[mindpalaceheir]

“INTERRUPTION”

4. Your muse walks in on mine eating ice-cream with their hands.

There’s some petty show on Comedy Central running on mute, and Hamish occupies the place in front of the TV, with his fingers stuck wrist deep into the box of cheap (one penny off and it would have been from the government, honestly) chocolate ice cream. It takes him some minutes, along with some added servings, to see that she entered the room, and at this point there’s really not much else he could do to save his dignity. Not that there’d be anything to save, all in all. Stained by chocolate sauce and wearing a pair of equally dirty trousers, Hamish shrugs and puts on a sweet, atypical smile. “Welcome to the Midterm Land.”

[mindpalaceheir]

Interruption //CACKLES MANIACALLY

14. Your muse walks in one mine trying to get rid of any evidence from last night.

When Sherlock comes in, he’s bent over the sink, arms covered in reddened bubbles of soap which begin to dissipate by the minute, and scrubbing feverishly, with harsh, uncoordinated movements. Hamish tilts his head to offer her an essential glance of ‘don’t’, and then he heeds to rub even quicker at the stains and the small bruises, at that sticky mixture of types of blood, and although he can feel the beads of sweat tickling down the back of his neck, he doesn’t stop. He knows the rules by heart (if the use of the word isn’t a bit too daring under these circumstances), so he acts upon the fact that the first hours after a murder always prove to be the key.

[roleplayingconfessionsfromrpers]

I felt bad when I stopped doing greeting posts, especially since threads for other greetings were still going and I feel like I’m leaving people out. They’re good ways to break the ice between two characters, but there are just so many and I get overwhelmed trying to remember the developing plotlines of all of them.

[ikebukeros-monster-blog]

To People Who Wonder Why I Don't Reply To Them Or Start Them A Thread And What You Can Do About It

It’s Not Because:

I don’t want to rp with you.

I have closed the thread/rp.

I think you’re a horrible rp’er.

You’re not worth my time.

It’s Because:

Tumblr has failed to notify me of the reply/starter.

I am full to the brim with replies to do.

I get distracted a lot by things like Youtube and Skype.

I’m generally doing more than one thing at once, like drawing, listening to music, talking to people and family things.

Life gets in the way.

I need to take breaks.

I don’t know how to start an rp or reply to that certain rp’s at the time.

I take time with my replies to make them ‘perfect’.

What You Can Do To Remind Me/Start An RP With Me:

Add me on Skype.

Plan an rp with me.

Send me an ask or a message on Skype reminding me.

Be patient.

Don’t rush me or force me to reply/start.

Let me have a break.

Understand that I have a busy schedule.

Don’t be scared to do me a starter.

Tell me that you have done a starter or replied.

Tag me in it.

And Most Importantly:

Have fun and don’t worry.

[mindpalaceheir]

INTERRUPTION

29. Your muse walks in on mine being sick

He's coiled near the toilet, inhaling short, quickened breaths that sound like apologetic sobs and that don't do him any good, since he's still out of air, still suffocating on the things that aren't there. His head is caged by his hands, his knees are brought up to his chest as if to prevent him from unraveling like a cotton puppet, and walls too white cradle him in. Hamish peeks at the intruder from under his armor of entwined fingers, but the lights are bright enough to make him to shudder under a moan of pain, to make him almost forget that this is bad news, being seen is bad news, so he groans a pitiful excuse, "I'm never drinking again", and hopes that Victor won't remember how he hasn't been hungover in his entire life and how today is not an exception.

[mindpalaceheir]

Interruption *evil laughter in the distance*

18. Your muse walks in on mine watching porn.

The moans reverberating through the laptop were fading echoes, doubled by the moans which came from the room, and Hamish opened his eyes only to look at the screen ahead of him. He didn’t even realize when he had closed them in the blur of the pleasure, but he shouldn’t have. Alex was now whispering his name among curse words, and the view was more than delightful, even from behind that stupid impediment of glass that had nothing on the real thing. The other picked up a quicker pace, panting incoherent strings of “Oh, fuck me”, with his head tilted backwards, lips half parted and eyes shut tight. One hand was holding the edge of the desk so hard that his knuckles turned white, and the other was currently hidden from sight, somewhere out of the webcam’s range, but it really didn’t take Hamish too many deductions to figure what purpose did it serve. He smirked at the image of his… fuck partner, and made to change his position slightly, in order to allow him more room for the motion. And to allow him, apparently, to finally notice that his bloody father had been in the room for God knows how long. In a single move, faster than he could have ever imagined himself able to react, Hamish slammed the laptop down and screamed at Sherlock to get out, get out right fucking now, because what the fuck was he even doing— to just get out.

[mindpalaceheir]

this is bad thing dont click bad thing excEPT FOR YOU MAYHEM YOU ARE NOW FORCED TO HAVE YOUR EYES BURNED OUT

welcome the hair who won't understand it's either brown either red

[sdkit]

"I’m hoping that’s not a comment on the state of my hair." Kit swept in and sat down, her laptop bag slung over her shoulder. "But you’re right. It’s going to be a rough day, I can feel it." she sighed

[mindpalaceheir]

"It wasn't, no", Hamish answered with a laid back smile of his own, "but now that you've mentioned it...-". He took a shot at looking malicious for a couple of seconds, although that really wasn't playing out as intended.

[frommemetoyou]

Send me "INTERRUPTION"

I’ll randomly generate a number from 1-31 to see how your muse interrupts mine! Mixture of safe & nsfw.

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[moriartyjunior-deactivated20140]

"Hmm, I don't care." Junior breathed as he ran his tongue down Hamish's neck, running his hand over the other's crotch. "Are you sayin' that we aren't gonna be together in the future?" He asked, looking up at Hamish with a smirk.

[mindpalaceheir]

"Are you saying that we are?" He arched an eyebrow, albeit he didn't wait all the way for James to answer. Hamish shrugged dismissively instead, as soon as he ditched the words, like it would matter too little (now of all times, to say the least) and bucked his hips into the other's hand, aiming for some friction.