Author: mystrade-lecroft
This page is simply somewhere for me to keep all the amazing fanfics and art I see so I can revisit (since tumblr might implode). Sometimes I post original stuff of mine, too. Not only Mystrade, but mostly.
*Finn runs off*
BB-8: *beeping* Don’t worry. He likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read his diary.
Poe: *flustered* He thinks it’s fancy?
Hermes: coke and sex party at Dionysus’
Hades: im watching greys anatomy with persephone
Hermes: wha-pishhh
Headcanon: Mycroft and Greg make bets against each other on the little things. Mycroft bets that Greg’s favourite character on TV is going to be killed off in the next episode. Greg bets that his order from the coffee shop is always wrong because the barista likes Mycroft.
Headcanon: Mycroft corrects his mother every time she calls him anything other than Mycroft but has never said a word when Greg calls him Myc, My, Mycie, M, etc. That’s how his mother knew he was in love before he did.
They were sat at their dining room eating dinner. It had been a while since they had been able to eat together, never mind having enough time to eat properly with the places set at the table.
Although they hadn’t seen each other for much more than a couple of hours for almost two weeks they were sat in a comfortable silence. Greg would hum in appreciation of the food and Mycroft would look up to give him a smile.
As Greg cleaned off his plate he realised Mycroft hadn’t eaten much of his own. “Are you going to eat that?” He asked with a pointed finger.
“It seems my appetite has vanished.” Mycroft said, shaking his head. “It was lovely, though. Thank you, Gregory.”
Greg shrugged satisfied with the answer. He probably ate between meetings. He reached over to pull the plate towards himself. “Well leaving it would be a missed steak.”
Mycroft huffed his disapproval of such a bad pun but couldn’t help the fond smile as he nudged the plate closer to the outstretched hand.
Let start off at an easy pace. Short and completely dialogue.
“Get out.”
“No.”
“Get out, Sherlock.”
“I cannot gather clues unless I am here, Lestrade. This is where the crime has taken place.”
“Oh, it’s a crime now, is it?”
“What else would you call it?”
“My business, is what. Now get out.”
“But I must solve the case!”
“It isn’t a case and there is nothing to solve. I’m in a bloody relationship and for once you don’t know who it is. It isn’t your relationship so get over it.”
“Sherlock, get up! What the fuck are you going to find under the couch?”
“DNA is a possibility.”
“You are not pulling DNA from my apartment, Sherlock! Leave before I nick you for breaking and entering.”
“But you let me in.”
“How did I let you in if you were bloody well already here when I came home?”
“Ah.”
“Yes. Ah.”
“But-”
“No. No more buts. You’re going home. Goodbye.”
“Fine.”
“Thank you.
Wait, Sherlock. Is that my phone?”
“…”
“Sherlock?”
“Goodnight, Lestrade.”
“Right. Yeah. See you. What the bloody hell- oh.”
“I told you not to take that picture, Gregory.”
“Yeah, well. Did me some good, didn’t it? I haven’t seen him in nearly a week.”
I just imagine John and Sherlock getting an invitation to Mycroft and Greg’s Wedding.
John opening the mail and announcing it to Sherlock
and Sherlock asking John when Mycroft and Gavin broke up and how he was taking it.
No offense,,, but if Mycroft and Greg got together Greg would be so proud he would take Mycroft everywhere and be like “THIS IS MY BOYFRIEND, MYCROFT HOLMES, AN’ WE ARE IN LOVE” and Mycroft would blush every time and be like “why u do dis???” but secretly he would be very happy
Mystrade-Lecroft 