mostlymay
May
reading, resting & writing UK, mystrade, minors dni
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I just saw the red King Charles portrait and my thoughts go out to Mycroft who will be compelled to put it in a central location in his office.
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Lestrade. In a kilt. Oh. My. God.
Fixed that fic inspiration picture for you, @jessieblackwood ;)
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And the address is 221b Baker Street… ;)
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Damn
Rupert Graves hot af as Roger in The Dinner Party (2007)
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I am taken by the way the eyelashes look behind the sunglasses.
screenshot from Riviera that I some time saved in my laptop
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Today's daily male is Rupert Graves from Real Life!
for @therandomginger
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'I can help with that'
“If you ever wanted that again… if you ever wanted to be with someone in that way… let me know. I can give that to you.”
The words were spoken like a promise—honest and gentle, and with so much sincerity that Mycroft hadn’t known how to respond.
Two weeks had passed since their drunken encounter, and Mycroft’s hangover still hadn’t quite left him. At this point, he wasn’t confident it ever would.
They’d met on a Friday for drinks at Baker Street—just a small get-together, Mrs Hudson had promised. Just something quiet.
Though she’d been correct in stating that only a handful of people would be in attendance, her something quiet had been anything but.
By ten p.m., Mycroft had given up on declining her relentless offer of cocktails. An hour later, and he was tucked up on the couch with Inspector Lestrade, not an inch of space between them.
Mycroft didn’t know what Mrs Hudson put in her cocktails, but he felt very strongly that the effects needed to be studied.
Three drinks in, and Mycroft was baring his soul to Lestrade, telling him that he was lonely; that his job in fact didn’t keep him warm at night; that he missed having a lover to go to bed with.
Lestrade listened with care, his eyes glittering softly as he reached out a hand to touch Mycroft’s knee.
“If you ever wanted that again,” he whispered. “If you ever wanted to be with someone in that way… let me know. I can give that to you.”
Mycroft’s pulse leapt. The room seemed to fall quiet around them.
“It’s been years since...” The words caught in Mycroft’s throat. “I can’t even recall the last time I kissed someone.”
He glanced at Lestrade’s mouth, overcome.
Lestrade gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “I can help with that,” he said, and pressed his lips to Mycroft’s.
“D’you wanna get out of here?” He mumbled against Mycroft’s lips. “Your place, maybe? Or mine, if you prefer. I don’t care… s’long as I get to run my hands all over you.”
Mycroft nodded, breathless, before pressing his lips back to Gregory’s mouth.
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Mystrade Monday Prompt #89
For May 13, 2024
"I can help with that.”
@mystradepromptsandscenarios
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Asshole.
MH.
Bonus:
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This is how hyperfixation works:
This is a three second scene. Maybe four if I'm being generous.
But Mycroft and Greg have an entire conversation through glances in those four seconds.
And those conversations? They only happen when you've been together for y e a r s.
This four seconds is all it took to shove me off a cliff of OTP obsession.
And the kicker?
Sherlock isn't even awake...
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Mycroft Holmes aka The British Government
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this dude is HOT no wonder why maurice fell in love with him
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*shows up fourteen years late to Tumblr with very cold Starbucks* So that Sherlock show is pretty good, huh!
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That scene where Linus tells Sabrina he's leaving for Paris....
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