sherlock cuff

darxetta1  asked:

Could you do Lestrade and reader with prompts 19 and 20 please?

Prompts: 19. I believe this is yours…
20. Are you flirting with me?


“I believe this is yours…” you let out a long sigh seeing Greg by your door with Sherlock in his hold in a pair of handcuffs.

The Di unlocked the cuffs and Sherlock stumbled into your flat and headed for your kitchen “What happened?”

“Everyone is stupid! They arrested me!” Sherlock shouted and you lightly shut your eyes over.

“I’m sorry about him…” your head was pulled to the floor “I promised mum and dad I’d keep an eye on him as well as Mycroft. That was the whole reason I moved here.”

Greg placed a hand on your arm and your head snapped up to meet his gaze “No harm done, I bailed him out,” he tried to ease your guilt “Will you be alright?”

You nodded your head and let out a lungful of air “Yeah, I’ll walk him home before it rains. Thanks for bailing him out Greg, I owe you one.”

Greg turned but swiftly spun on his heel before you shut the door “I’ve had a long day…” he begun “Fancy coming down to the pub with me?”

You opened your mouth to politely refuse so you could keep an eye on Sherlock but your brother yelled from the kitchen “I’ve been here five minutes Y/N and I still haven’t had a cup of tea!”

You grabbed your coat and fled.

“Your drinks are on me as a thanks,” you handed him his glass and sat across from him on an uncomfortable bar stool.

“Honestly Y/N it’s fine, your company is enough of a thanks.” The corner of your lips twitched upwards slightly when he placed his hand on top of yours before pulling away.

“So what did he do?” You asked “Insult someone by deducing them? Punch a police officer because they called Sherlock a smart arse? Or was he trespassing?”

“Second one,” Greg smirked and you rolled your eyes. “How can someone like you be related to him?” Greg asked full of bewilderment.

You choked on your drink and managed to cough out a ‘what?’

Greg shrugged and you could see his cheeks getting redder from both shyness and the alcohol streaming though his veins. “Well you’re so kind and funny. You’re nothing like your brothers, but you’re just as smart as them.” He smiled and you noticed a sparkle in his eye that wasn’t there before.

“Oh I don’t know about that…” you trailed off with a modest grimace “I’m just…me.”

“Well that’s why I like you so much…” Greg uttered and finished the rest of his drink. “I’ll walk you home.”

You bit down on your lip with a smile as you left the pub and walked down the street back home. The yellowy-orange fluorescent lights where the only source of light as night rolled in and there was a slightly breeze that tumbled about the dry, fallen leaves on the ground. “I also like that too,” Greg spoke up and your smile disappeared as you tuned to him with a confused expression “Oh but I love that look!” He lightly laughed. “But I’ll always love your smile the best.”

Your cheeks were on fire and you stopped in the middle of the street that was across from your house “Are you flirting with me?

“Can you tell?”

“Well the obvious signs are there…you’re always complementing me, I also noticed you tugging on your ear slightly. People tend to fidget slightly when they flirt. You also touch my hand or place your own on my knee and…..I’m deducing…” you sighed and placed your head in your hands with a groan.

“It’s cute when you deduce,” Greg smiled and placed his hands on your upper arms.

You peeled your hands away from your face “You’re doing it again!”

“Well would you rather I do something else than flirt with you?”

“Yeah I would because it’s making me blush and-” you were cut off by Greg’s lips crashing against your own. You let out a small squeal feeling his skin against your own. A warmth spread through your body as you slowly kissed him back. Greg pulled back slightly, peppering a few more kisses to your tingling lips.

“Well…you did ask me to do something else.” You narrowed your eyes playfully at Greg before kissing him again.

Your moment of serenity was ruined by none other than Sherlock who had stuck his head out of your living room window “Stop sucking Lestrade’s face off and make me tea!”

You looked over Greg’s shoulder and growled under your breath “I’ll make you tea if you tell me what his first name is!” You hissed back.

Sherlock purses his lips together and his eyes widened slightly “I’ll make my own…”

You cockily smirked as Greg laughed “I didn’t think I could fall for you more.”

A Scandal At Appledore - "But look how you care for Irene Adler..."

Author’s Note: Irene Adler is one of Sherlock Holmes’ pressure points. So, how would the scene in His Last Vow have played out if pressure had been applied to it? This is an alternative scene at Appledore featuring the Woman.


“You’ve worked very hard, Mr. Holmes. I applaud you. But despite all the effort you’re still so tediously obvious.” Magnussen’s sighing drawl was like cold breath on the back of Sherlock’s neck.

“Obvious?” Sherlock kept his voice casual, though he longed to slap the smirk off Magnussen’s thin face..

“Yes, well,” Magnussen spread his arms out on the lounge and pressed a button. A screen appeared behind Sherlock and John, “Opium and John Watson are two pressure points of yours for sure, Mr. Holmes. But I find the most useful pressure points, the most effective, are the ones that people try to hide.” Magnussen sneered as the screen flickered to life and Sherlock felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Irene Adler’s execution in Karachi played before their eyes in shaky, pixilated vision. Though, the picture quality wasn’t poor enough to hide her less than subtle escape from her death and, to Sherlock’s horror, the clear identity of her savior.

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Holding Hands in TRF: Coincidence or deliberate?

I’ve always loved this moment in The Reichenbach Fall. Sherlock and John have just become fugitives and are running off together to go solve this issue with Moriarty (they hope). Them handcuffed together is a clear indication of that unity: They are chained to one another, in literal surface ways, but also in a figurative sense.  

Here’s the thing: Someone somewhere along the way made the choice to film this moment this way, with a close up on them joining hands (as they run off into the night). 

(The above gif is further cropped to emphasize that hand-holding more [awww, johnlock] so here’s a full screen shot:)

They didn't need to do this. Sherlock says, “Take my hand!” to John, so we don’t need a close up; we know what’s happening. And, even as they leave the camera/viewer behind, so to speak, we can still see that their hands are joined. It begs the question: Why the close-up? Why choose to zoom in on just their hands? 

In fact, narratively, this whole situation doesn't really make sense. Let’s deconstruct the scene a bit: 

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A Predetermined Arrangement
  • ~In the Holmes' country house living room, following a case in the area~
  • Sherlock: I'm sure it'd be fine.
  • Molly: No. No. I'd hate to intrude on you and Mike's family time.
  • Sherlock: Mike?
  • Molly: *ignoring his comment* Plus, if I get back tonight, I'll have time to stop by the farmer's market tomorrow morning.
  • Sherlock: *deadpanned* Molly Elizabeth Hooper-
  • Molly: How d'ya know my middle name?
  • Sherlock: -under no circumstances are you catching a train at *checks his wrist* 11:45 pm, in the middle of winter *exhales* out here in the middle of nowhere... *as a side note* And since when do you go to the farmer's market?
  • Molly: *with an arm resting against her hip* First of all, I love the farmer's market. There's a goat cheese lady there now. Always gives away free samples. And maybe time and temperature wouldn't be an issue if you'd give me a ride to the train station!
  • Sherlock: *petulantly* No!
  • Molly: Oh! And why not?
  • Sherlock: *grumbling* Cause it's cold out there.
  • Molly: Put on a coat. I know you have your Belstaff here.
  • Sherlock: *taking off his suit jacket* Well maybe I don't want to go back out.
  • Molly: *with one hand against her temple; eyes straying* What are you doing?
  • Sherlock: *undoing his cuff buttons* Getting comfortable. As I am staying in and not heading out till morning.
  • Molly: *huffs* Fine!
  • Sherlock: Good.
  • Molly: *thinking it over* Then if I'm not going anywhere, I might as well settle in too.
  • Sherlock: As you should.
  • Molly: *takes off her coat and pulls her jumper over her head*
  • Sherlock: *between strangled throat sounds* I should get Mum to set up the guest room first. Eh?
  • Molly: *shrugging* Sure. *steps out of her shoes*
  • Sherlock: And you can finish getting ready for bed in there?
  • Molly: *shrugs again* I suppose. *continues to disrobe many layers.
  • Sherlock: *buffering* I -Okay- *swallows* -Mm-
  • Molly: *settling in his chair in her leggings and a camisole* Problem?
  • Sherlock: *eyeing her* Nope. *waits, then pulls his shirt over his head forcefully, causing thread near the collar to rip* Damnit.
  • Molly: *hiding a laugh while enjoying the view* You forgot to undo the top button.
  • Sherlock: *through gritted teeth* Yes. I noticed.
  • Molly: *snickering*
  • Sherlock: It's not my fault your clothing has less buttons. All elastic I suppose. *focuses back on her sitting lazily*
  • Molly: *pulling at her spaghetti strap* Mm. Very much so. Much easier to take off.
  • Sherlock: *studying her closely* Where is this farmer's market, Molly?
  • Molly: *taken back* Huh?
  • Sherlock: You wanted to get back to go to the farmer's market. Which one do you go to? I am familiar with many -homeless network and all.
  • Molly: *stuttering* The uh-one by my flat.
  • Sherlock: Across from the Co-Op?
  • Molly: Yes! That one.
  • Sherlock: *grinning* Mm. I see. Didn't know they held farmer's markets in primary schools.
  • Molly:
  • Sherlock: That is where you were referring to, yes?
  • Molly: *scowling*
  • Sherlock: It's fine. Really. Stay. I wasn't going to kick you out.
  • Molly: *trying to interrupt*
  • Sherlock: As long as you never refer to my brother as Mike again. *disgusted*
  • Molly: *nodding along* Should I find your Mum. You said there was a guest room?
  • Sherlock: *waving the suggestion away* Don't bother. She's probably passed out in front of the telly. Just come along.
  • Molly: You don't have to set the room up for me. Really.
  • Sherlock: Oh, I'm not.
  • Molly: Then where are we...
  • Sherlock: *opening the door to his room* The sheets are clean. Bathroom is right across the hall. And please do not snoop through my things.
  • Molly: *with a blank look on her face*
  • Sherlock: *disgruntled* My childhood indulgences are a poor reflection of who I am as of present.
  • Molly: What about you?
  • Sherlock: I'll be up for a while.
  • Molly: And when you eventually do need to sleep?
  • Sherlock: *pauses, looking around the room then back to her with a raised brow* Then at that time, I think we can figure out an arrangement that works for both of us.
Sherlock's Confession

“Molly, there you are,” John said a bit out of breath. “have you seen Sherlock?”

“No, why? He doesn’t come in on Wednesdays.”

“Right, okay.” John was pacing back and forth in thought.

“Is everything alright?” Molly asked, getting the doctor to stop mid pace.

John sighed. “Yesterday Lestrade and Sherlock got into a bit of an argument, about alcohol consumption. Eventually it lead to a bet. See, Greg said, that Sherlock couldn’t consume as much alcohol as him. Sherlock retaliated and said Greg couldn’t consume as much as he could. They decided, that they would have to put it to the test.”

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So for Sherlock, the Mycroft in his mind palace takes the form of overbearing elder brother leading him through deductions, prompting him to ask himself the right questions, to solve the puzzle. He’s the force of intellect and reason and logic, and when Sherlock’s stumped in a deduction he either consciously or subconsciously turns to his big brother for advice. Because after all, that’s probably exactly what it was like when they were children - whether Mycroft deliberately set out to teach his little brother a skill he’d developed earlier, or if they learnt together through games of deductions. Mycroft was seven years older and - as he’s so keen to emphasise, smarter - so there would have been that teaching relationship established.

For Mycroft then, what would the Sherlock in his mind be like?

We may speculate, but I’m fond of imagining that for Mycroft his little brother will always be just that - the little brother he’s so clearly protective of, with his worrying constantly and caring isn’t an advantage (but that doesn’t mean he can stop doing it). So perhaps for him, Sherlock represents his usually carefully concealed emotional side. The probable pain that Sherlock has caused him over the years through that worrying would serve as a reminder of why it’s best ‘not to get involved’, but you can’t just stop loving someone, and particularly not your baby brother, no matter the provocation. I would love to see something where he keeps memories of a younger, more carefree and innocent Sherlock in his mind, a bittersweet memory only visited rarely but treasured nonetheless.
Amanda Abbington on Cuffs and being the first female Doctor Who

“I love it,” says Abbington of this punishing schedule. “And because I was out of work for such a long time… when I met Martin I was out of work for about 18 months… any work I get now I relish.”

“Martin” is of course her partner of 15 years, Hobbit-to-Sherlock star Martin Freeman, and it was Freeman’s availability for childcare that freed up Abbington to work these long hours.

“Martin has been off since March,” she says. “He’s been doing bits and pieces of stuff, but mostly turning things down. He’s really brilliant at that, morally if it’s not right for him, he won’t do it.”

Morally? “Well, he’s not chasing money and he’s not chasing that A-list. He’s very good at saying ‘no’, that’s not right for me… I don’t want to leave my family for that long’.”

“So he’s been at home and it’s been really good for him because he’s been a dad for six months, which they’ve all needed…. everybody’s needed that… he’s been taking care of the kids while I’ve been doing this stuff. But now he’s going 'I’m really bored… I really want to go and do something’, which I can understand because that’s what actors need – they need to work. Come January he’s got some nice bits and pieces which he’s very excited about. And then we do the full series of Sherlock, in about March or April…”

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Irene Adler hurts Molly. Sherlock comes to help XD

Hello Nonny! How are you? :) I know I took liberties, I’m sorry. :( but I do hope you enjoy it! xx

“This is a bit ridiculous, don’t you think?” She asked tugging on her handcuffs as she stared at the man he once beat.

“Not when you were about to shoot Molly.” He said glaring with his arms crossed. When he came home to find someone pointing a gun at Molly he took immediate action, knocking the gun out of the shooter’s hand he pinned her against the wall before recognizing who she was.

“Molly Hooper.” She said trying to remember where she had heard that name “Wasn’t she my pathologist the first time I died?” She asked smirking.

“Yes.” He gritted.

“Well, forgive me. I wasn’t really expecting you’d have company, especially a girl. I guess The Virgin isn’t really fitting anymore, is it?” She smirked. “Although I cannot judge you for your choice of partner, she seems” she continued, eyeing the girl inside the kitchen. “lovely” she finished smiling.

“What do you want?”

“I was going to say dinner but—” she smiled. “I guess I’ll just cut to the chase, I’ve been made and I need your help.”

“Tea?” Molly interrupted, carrying a tray with her. Irene raised her hands to show her the cuffs. “Jesus, Sherlock, just let her go. It was just a bit of misunderstanding.” Molly said looking at the consulting detective.

“No” he replied.

“But I made tea.”



“No” Molly rolled her eyes. She decided to let it go, it was obvious that she wasn’t going to go anywhere with him when he’s this stubborn. She gave an apologetic smile at the woman who only nodded in response. Molly decided to walk out of the room figuring out that the two needed to talk without her.

“You’re really put out, aren’t you?” Irene laughed.

“What do you think?”

“I wouldn’t have shot her.” She smiled. “Okay, maybe. But I wouldn’t have killed her.”

“I prefer my pathologist unharmed.”

“That’ll be hard, considering you’re her partner.” He winced at this. It wasn’t like he didn’t know. Of course he knew, he even tried to break all ties with her once but as it turns out, a broken hearted Sherlock was worse than a ‘high on drugs’ Sherlock. Since then he just vowed to keep her safe at all times, which reminds him; he needed to talk to Mycroft. If The Woman could sneak past the people watching over Molly, who else could?

“I know” he replied. He stood up, walking over to his desk. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and started writing a phone number. “Here, his name is Billy Wiggins. Look for him. He can help you with whatever it is you need.” He explained. He gave her the paper and took out the keys from his pocket, freeing her from the cuffs around her wrists.

“Thank you.” He nodded as he opened the door for her.


He entered their bedroom and found her at her side of the bed, reading one of her medical books. He stared at her for a few seconds, admiring her before walking towards her.

“Where’s Irene?” Molly asked closing her book.

“She left.” He replied. “I almost got you hurt today.” He sighed closing his eyes.

She shrugged. “We’ve had worse days.”

He chuckled at that, pulling her off the bed to kiss her passionately. Not a few minutes later, Molly found herself back in the bed with the only consulting detective on top of her.