Y’know what makes me sad? Lost potential.
Case in point: the 1940’s Basil Rathbone Holmes films. 20th Century Fox had an excellent start with Hound of the Baskerville’s. (Although the including of the séance, and “Watson, the needle,” were odd.)
Nigel Bruce’s Watson here was not a bumbling buffoon (and I mean this as kindly as I can) and Holmes was polite, humorous, even compassionate. “No, Mrs Barryman, he’s in more merciful hands.”
Adventures was…meh. George Zucco plays a great Moriarty, but this was when they began turning Watson into a bumbler. And Ida Lupino’s role was terrible! She still marries her fiancé even though he did nothing to protect her brother, and threatened to hurt her!
And then the war began and period correct Rathbone Holmes changed over to present day of WWII.
Universal began with The Voice of Terror (loosely based off the last story in His Last Bow, called by the same title, I think) and it was…good. I mean, it’s Holmes fighting against the Nazi’s, that’s pretty nice. And the plot twist with Reginald Denny’s character is neat.
But it lost the charm of the stories and Watson and Holmes’s friendship. Holmes is shown as rude towards Watson’s slowness, interrupts him when he talks, once, in Sherlock Holmes in Washington, he even has him tap his spoon against his plate for no reason except ‘to break up the wavelengths if there was a dictograph’ or whatever it was in the walls.
(There’s a scene in SH Faces Death -once again, loosely based, off The Musgrave Ritual- with a soldier who’s paranoid about bombs being in anything and Watson tossing down an unopened package and telling him to open it INFURIATES me.)
Sherlockians of the ‘40s complained about this, they pointed out that Holmes would never treat Watson so rudely nor would Watson, a former army doctor, be this foolish. And the studio ignored them.
I can’t fully blame Rathbone or Bruce, both were good actors, it was the studio’s boneheaded decision to dampen the mystery and Watson down to comedic relief because of the war.
Just…imagine what we could’ve had.
(Such as Mycroft in one, and on that, why was he not in the ‘40s films? He was the British Government!)
We could’ve had the Irregulars (orphaned children from the war, maybe) a better Lestrade, Gregson was in The Woman in Green, and God bless the writer’s for sparing him from Lestrade’s treatment. Watson being a retired doctor, sure, fought in WWI, okay, I suppose he and Holmes met after the war.
Mrs. Hudson remains unchanged because she’s a sweetheart in everyone, I wish they had more of her.
And Moriarty- the man was in three of them and each time he was different! (One of the films had both men who played him in the same movie, it was very confusing.)
We could’ve had more of 20th Century Fox’s Victorian Holmes, maybe it could’ve gotten better after Adventures. Or Universal could’ve done the nice thing and not reduced Watson to comic relief. Or, Fox could’ve done the ‘40s adaptation, which they could’ve, they were doing Michael Shayne at the time of Voice of Terror and they were fine.
I love Rathbone’s Holmes, he was the only one I knew and grew up on (for a long time all we had was Hound and the Secret Weapon) but I despise what they did to him, to Watson and the stories. I don’t expect much from ‘40s Hollywood but I know they could’ve done better.
Forgive my essay. The lost potential of stuff gnaws at me.
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"Please, Harder!" Headcanons
ꕥMonster Trio + Ace & Lawꕥ
༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, fem afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧
a few drabbles for how the monster trio + ace & law respond to you asking them to fuck you harder! (>ᴗ•) !
cw: fem afab!reader, piv sex, spanking, praise, choking, rough sex, positions (in order): mating press, doggy style, cowgirl, wall sex, prone bone.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
"Please, Harder!" Headcanons
ꕥMonster Trio + Ace & Lawꕥ
Luffy:
Luffy seldom falters in his incessant pace; he revels in his ability to fuck you like an animal in heat; harder and faster than anything you’ve ever experienced. He's captivated by the sounds emanating from your throat, and the knowledge that he's the one eliciting such responses makes it even more enticing. He diligently strives to uncover a wide array of your vocalizations, collecting them, almost.
On this occasion in particular, he’s got you on your back, legs dangling over his toned shoulders as he holds you down by your waist, pounding his length into your needy cunt while you scream and whine for him.
A new noise erupts from your heaving chest, one that Luffy’s never heard before; a plea,
“Please, Luffy, harder!”
The foreign sentence prompts his ears to perk up, momentarily causing his pace to falter. He looks down at you, his eyes widening as he carefully studies your face to confirm he heard you correctly.
Suddenly, a smile tugs at his lips, and he bursts into hearty laughter,
“You want me to fuck you harder?” he giggles, but his tone is tinted with a bit of playful arrogance, “Sure! If you think you can handle it!”
Seeing your desperation as a challenge, the captain accepts eagerly, aiming to prove himself. He grounds his knees harder into the mattress and pulls his hips back before thrusting in abruptly, making you cry out as the tip of his cock batters your sweet spot.
"That's a new one!" he chuckles, the unfamiliar sound igniting a flame within him that courses through his veins and singes his blood, filling him with an exhilaration beyond compare.
Determined to hear the special noise again, he commences with his unruly pace, making your screams rise in pitch.
The grip he has on your waist tightens as he continues pounding you, the sounds of your sloppy cunt accepting his cock over and over again causing elation to flood his skull,
“This hard enough for ya, baby?"
Zoro:
Zoro is a relentless force, driven by an insatiable desire to prove himself; strength and sexual abilities alike.
He refuses to settle for anything less than excellence, especially in the bedroom. He’s in constant pursuit of validation, hellbent on getting you to scream his name only seconds in.
Zoro’s got you on your hands and knees, treating your insides with brutal thrusts as he kneels behind you; thick, strong fingers bruising the plush flesh of your hips as he grasps them tightly.
His grip is like a vise, unyielding and firm, your screams falling on deaf ears as he rails you mercilessly. He always aims to assert his dominance, his presence, and when your needy request makes its way to him, to say he’s surprised is an understatement.
“Please, Zoro, harder!”
He’s still holding you, with unwavering resolve, but his harsh pace as slowed, just barely, so he can hear you over the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together.
“Say that again.”
And you do, making the large man behind you let out an amused tsk.
He promptly obliges, but not because you’re in charge; oh no, he’s fueled by a fierce resolve to make you rue the moment you questioned his abilities.
The swordsman’s grip tightens on your hips as he immediately begins thrusting harder, so intensely it makes stars erupt beneath your eyelids.
He’s groaning behind you, planting harsh smacks to your ass as he proceeds, obsessed with the way your cunt sucks in his cock so greedily.
Your mouth hangs slack and screams escape from it as he pounds you.
You’re a weak, trembling mess, causing the green-haired man to smirk as he leans down to rasp in your ear,
“Careful what you ask for.”
Sanji:
Sanji would move mountains for you, sacrifice everything to grant you joy. He’s entrapped by you and your presence; and it transforms him into a devoted disciple, eager to fulfill your every waking need. He hangs onto every word you say, treasuring each syllable as though you’re a deity among mortals.
He’s always been a gentle lover; petrified of hurting you, of damaging that precious body of yours that he worships so obsessively.
His adoration transcends mere admiration; he’s a devotee, obsessed with pleasing you with his gifted hands and gentle, strategic hips.
You’re on top tonight, grinding up and down on his length. You’re desperate for more, though, greedily moving your hips in a tight circle as you move up and down.
He’s quick to notice; promptly reaching up to hold your waist and aid you in your efforts, lifting his hips to thrust up into you slowly, carefully.
You whine at the pleasant sensation; it's welcomed, but it’s not enough.
“Please, Sanji, harder!”
Although he’s a bit taken aback by your sudden request, he doesn’t stop to think, he just obeys. Sanji presses his heels into the mattress to use his strong, lean legs to aid him in pounding into you from below, groaning as he looks up at you longingly.
“As you wish, beautiful.”
You’re panting, crying out for him as he fucks you harder than ever before; the pace is uncharacteristic but seemingly natural for the gentle cook.
The sight of your face contorted in pleasure makes the coil tighten in his lower stomach, his thrusts are becoming sloppy but remain brutal as he desperately leads you towards your orgasm,
“Sure you can take it, my love?”
Ace:
Ace is an enigma; a determined, goal-oriented man, but a kind, compassionate one, nonetheless.
He regularly tightropes the fine line between rearranging your guts and making sweet, gentle love to you.
His ambition is unwavering, but his heart remains soft and tender as he strives you make you shake and whine beneath him. He wants to stuff your brain full of nothing but lustful visions of the two of you; the juxtaposition of him fucking you roughly while he caresses and kisses your cheek.
He’ll usually start gently, kindly; moving his hips carefully, softly moving his lengthy cock in and out of you.
However, any little whine, squirm, or plea from you can flip the switch inside Ace; ignite the flame within him that singes his skin and plunges him into the unruly parts of himself. In an instant, he’ll be pounding you relentlessly, pace remaining brutal and firm as he makes you scream and pick your brain to find the moment he shifted.
Tonight is no different as Ace has you pressed against the wall, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he holds you up, gently thrusting in and out of your tight cunt.
You’re digging your nails down his freckled back, prying at his skin, praying that your touches alone are enough to signal that you’re desperate for more.
He persists like he has been, however, softly and gently, placing sweet kisses to your neck and chest.
You’re a whining mess, desire pricking at your goosebump-riddled skin as you nip at his collarbone, silently begging him to fuck you harder.
He’s stubborn, clearly, his pace remaining steady as he groans into your ear.
A plea tickles at your throat but you don’t attempt to stop it, instead, you allow the cry to bubble over and meet Ace’s ear,
“Please, Ace, harder!”
And there it was, the switch flipping; the very moment when kind, gentle Ace retreats, and rough, wild Ace emerges.
His grip on your hips tightens and he presses you into the wall harder, reaching up to firmly grasp your throat,
“Oh, yeah?” he growls, bringing his hips back to pound into you harshly, earning a weak cry from your slack jaw.
His pace is immediately overwhelming; you can feel his thick cock in your stomach as he stuffs you full, his blunt tip bullying your cervix with each pass, making you cry out rhythmically.
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, pretty girl.”
Law:
Law navigates the world with a keen eye and a steady hand; and these traits always remain true, even in the bedroom.
He’s a meticulous, observant man; and although he may seem dull, he never misses a beat.
He opts for studying your body; your noises, your movements, in order to please you in the ways you need, not just the ways you want.
Every action is calculated, every decision weighed with thoughtful consideration. He moves with purpose, deliberate and measured, leaving nothing to chance.
Nothing goes unnoticed, or falls under the radar when you’re with Law; he may be tedious with his touches, but damn, it’s worth it, because he does it all perfectly.
Beneath his analytical exterior lies an insatiable curiosity; a deep, obsessive desire to understand every facet of your being, from the intricacies of your mind to the contours of your exquisite body.
He wants nothing more than to please you beyond comprehension.
You’re laying on your stomach, a pillow beneath your pelvis to raise you a bit. Law is hovering above you as he thrusts steadily into your cunt, leaning down to groan in your ear and kiss along your nape.
His pace is fixed but firm, and the position you’re in aids him in hitting your sweet-spot dead-on with each thrust.
You’re whimpering needily, coming undone beneath the doctor as he stays true to his consistent pace.
He’s precise and careful; making sure to hit your g-spot with each pass, but he can tell you’re desperate for something; aching for more.
He can tell what you’re about to say before you can even get the courage to let it out,
“Please, Law, harder!”
A smug grin tugs at his lips, amused by your desperation for his cock, but he listens, immediately beginning to thrust harder into you.
His pelvis meets your ass with a loud smack with each harsh thrust; the noises are lewd and your weak screams only add to it, but his pace never falters as he obeys your plea.
He’s determined to instill in you the fact that polite requests will always be granted, but he can’t help but tease you a bit,
“You’re insatiable.”
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
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