#source: Sherlock Holmes

[superiorsturgeon]

Focus

Pyrrha: *preparing for a big 1v1 match*

Pyrrha’s opponent: *glaring and flexing* 😠

????: Go get ‘im, babe! We believe in you!

Pyrrha/Opponent: *look up in the stands*

Jaune: *waving an “Invincible Girl” flag in one hand while holding up Arkos baby with his other arm* 😘

Arkos kid: *waving at his mother* 👋😀

Pyrrha: Oh, look! My husband and son came to watch! 😊

Opponent: That dweeb is your husband? Pathetic. The kid’s not too cute, either.

Pyrrha:

Pyrrha: …this mustn’t register on an emotional level.

Pyrrha: First, distract target. Then, block his blind jab.

Pyrrha: Counter with cross to left cheek. Discombobulate.

Pyrrha: Dazed, he’ll attempt a wild haymaker. Elbow block, and body shot.

Pyrrha: Block feral left. Weaken right jaw, now fracture.

Pyrrha: Break cracked ribs. Traumatize solar plexus.

Pyrrha: Dislocate jaw entirely. Heel kick to diaphragm.

Pyrrha: In summary, ears ringing, jaw fractured, three ribs cracked, four broken, diaphragm hemorrhaging. Physical recovery: six weeks. Full psychological recovery: six months.

Pyrrha: Capacity to be rude to my wonderful husband and baby: neutralized!

Pyrrha: *zones back in and turns to her opponent*

Opponent: Hey, you in there Invincible Girl? It’s time to get ready for-*interrupted by savage beating*

[theivorybilledwoodpecker]

To Celebrimbor, Sauron is always the bitch.

[incorrect-anything-quotes]

(Puss in Boots points a sword in Prince Charming's face)

Prince Charming: Get that out of my face.

Puss in Boots: It is not in your face, it is in my hand.

Prince Charming: Get what's in your hand out of my face.

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

I've b-b-b-b-been going over my notes of our adven-advent-uh exploits over the past s-s-s-seven months. W-would you like to hear my c-conclusions? I am ps-ps-ps-psychologically d-disturbed.

Dr. Watkins (Porky Pig) to Doorlock Holmes (Daffy Duck)

[incorrectjag]

*walking into the Admiral’s office*

Harm: Hello, Sir.

Admiral Chegwidden: What have you two done now?

Mac: Why are you always so suspicious of us, Sir?

Admiral Chegwidden: Should I answer chronologically or alphabetically, Major?

[tremendously-crazy]

if sherlock holmes and john watson were in the modern era watson would have holmes saved on his phone as "sherlock <3" or some shi meanwhile holmes would have watson saved on his phone as "Dr. John H. Watson"

[holmesunenthusiast]

Do you ever watch a Sherlock Holmes adaptation, and the moment John Watson comes on screen go:

"Yup. That's a John Watson. That is, 100%, no doubt, a John Watson."

YES ABSOLUTELY, personality aside Watson's appearance is super important for me to get immersed. I just become so hyperaware of the fact that it's an ACTOR when he doesn't look like Watson. For a specific case, one of my fave Watsons (outside of 1 to 1 depictions) would have to be Himesh Patel in Enola Holmes. As SOON as I saw that guy I was like 😮😮😮🫵🫵🫵🫵 YOOOOOO WAAAAATSOOOOONNNNNN

But in general, my criteria is as follows:

Have kind eyes. Not sure if it makes much sense but you've got to see some zest for life and love for humanity in Watson's eyes. Yeah, it can be tinged with sadness, but it's GOTTA be there (I think BBCs Watson failed on this front, but Miss Sherlock's Wato-san nailed it).

Be well dressed. Watson is always describing what people wear and how they look, he's a very aesthetically involved man. He once said he was happy a dude got murdered cuz the guy was just THAT butt ugly. If he's wearing some wack ass clothes im NOT watching 🤦🤦 Holmes can look crazy, but Watson absolutely cannot

Be handsome, but fluffy. I feel like CBS especially has a problem with the second half because Elementarys Joan and Watsons Watson are literal supermodels and I just can't get past it. (I haven't seen either, but a gif of CBS Watson came across my dash and in it he was literally like flexing??? In his SLEEP 😭���?? enough is enough). I appreciate the effort to overcorrect after years of goofy, cartoonish Watson depictions but I'll take that over this tall mewing gigachad any day of the week.

THE FUCKING MUSTACHE Oh my god why the fuck would you even adapt Watson at all if you're not gonna give him a mustache 😭😭 it's the EASIEST FUCKING THING TO DO. GET A MAKEUP TEAM THAT CAN DO A WIGSTACHE I SWEAR TO GOD I dont wanna see some bald lipped hoe come onto my screen and try to tell me they're Watson get out get out GET THE FUCK OUTTTT

[noodles-and-tea]

Purrlock Holmes……

[phantombegruvia]

Falling

[What I think happened between The Final Baker Of Baker Street and The Mystery Of The Midnight Circus]

[contains brief descriptions of violence and minor character death]

"We thank him for the bread we eat, and the friends we keep. Amen-mentary, my dear Watson."

The words echoed in Watson's mind. They hadn't stopped repeating really, not since the funeral. Sherlock's funeral, to be exact.

Sherlock was dead.

But that was impossible, Sherlock was there! He was right next to Watson, slouched over the Bible, reciting its words. He was there, but then he was gone again.

Sure, it would've taken a miracle to survive being crushed thousands of kilograms of dough (Watson would know, he was a doctor after all), but Sherlock was a miracle worker. He had once fallen hundreds of feet, and lived.

Now Watson sits on the floor of his country home, a small cottage just on the edge of Oxford, surrounded by past journal entries (both his own and Sherlock's) to see if he could piece together a clue on where Sherlock had disappeared to.

"John?" Mary sighed from behind him, "what are you doing?"

Watson turned around, his wife cradled their six-month old daughter in her arms. Rosie lay asleep on her mother's chest and Watson could barely hear the sounds of her quite snores.

"Finding Sherlock," was the simple answer that Watson gave, before turning back to face the papers sprawled all over the floor.

Mary's eyes bored into the back of his skull. "John," she sounded too tired, "he's gone."

"No," Watson shook his head with a little to much vigour, he made himself dizzy, "no, no. He was there. He was! I heard him.. I saw him! He was there, Mary, I swear."

"Every night, for the last six months, you've been like this, chasing a ghost," she gently placed Rosie onto the armchair, "I'm tired of it." She knelt down in front of Watson.

"He's alive, Mary, I know he is."

"You're not well."

Watson was taken aback by that small comment, "I'm the most fine I've been in a while, Mary."

Mary's face portrayed no emotion (maybe it showed a tidbit of resentment, but Watson would rather look over that), "I've had to look after Rosie by myself."

"That's not true."

"How am I going to tell her, when she's old enough, that her own father chose a dead man over her?"

"He's not dead."

"He is. He's gone, John. And if you can't see that, well, I guess you will lose us too." She stood up, and immediately turned her back on him.

"I'm sorry?"

Mary picked up Rosie again, "I'm taking a carriage back to London first thing tomorrow. Me and Rosie will be staying with a friend of mine."

Watson stood up with speed, and the dizziness returned, "you made your insane choice, John. Now it's my time to make mine."

She retreated to the master bedroom, locking the door behind her.

Watson stared at the door for a little while longer, a small twinge of guilt nagging at his heart. He reached his arm out, about to knock on the door and ask his wife to reconsider-

"Amen-mentary, my dear Watson."

His arm fell, he had much bigger priorities to worry about.

Mary and Rosie were just a small price to pay to get Sherlock back. A giggle slipped out of his lips.

-

Two months later, Watson found himself back in the streets of London. Somebody had told him they knew of Sherlock's whereabouts, but they wanted something for the knowledge; the keys to the cottage. So, reasonably, Watson gave up his home. It was a trick, of course, what else would it have been?

He was also released of his job at the hospital. And Watson had no idea as to why exactly. He overheard his supervisor say something about "illness" and "insanity", but he figured it must've been about a patient.

So now, he was finding shelter wherever he could. He found a hotel, just a few roads from Baker Street. The staff didn't have to know of his presence, did they?

He whistled as he walked down the stone road of Baker Street, his hands in his pockets. He had come down this way everyday for the past month, stopping in front of the now very vandalised 10 Baker Street.

It was a sore sight for Watson, but he knew that once he found Sherlock, they would be able to fix it together.

He was brought out of his fantasy when he heard the smash of glass. A group of four dirtied boys stepped out of one of Sherlock's windows, the one they had just broke, and began to hurry down a nearby alley.

Watson didn't give himself time to think, before he chased after them. They hadn't noticed him, until he grabbed the one closest to him by the arm, and pulling him backwards. The other three still hadn't noticed, and they continued running down the alley.

"What are you-"

The criminal didn't get chance to finish his sentence before Watson punched him with enough force to knock him to the ground. Watson didn't hesitate to straddle the hoodlum.

Watson punched him.

And punched him.

And punched him.

And punched him.

And again. And again. And again-

Watson realised he wasn't breathing anymore.

Watson stood up from the bloodied body.

(The kid barely looked over eighteen, he was so young. So, so young. And Watson stopped him from growing up. He broke the Hippocratic Oath. He was a monster. Monster. Monster.)

The recognisable tune of Entry Of The Gladiators began to play down Baker Street.

Watson figured that a circus was in town. He thought he might go, he is rather fond of clowns.

-

Watson did his daily walk down Baker Street, humming to the tune of one of those fun circus-esque songs.

He stopped at his usual place - just across the road from Sherlock's place. He imagined Sherlock and him playing chess by one of the windows, they wouldn't be boarded up so the whole world could see them. Sherlock would always call checkmate first, of course, it was his thing.

He registered a presence next to him, but he didn't let it drag him out of his fantasy.

However Watson's company's voice did force him back to reality, with rather a lot of force. "Ah, hello there, could you help me?"

Watson turned and there he was. He looked slightly older, more frail. He was confused, too, which was never a good look for Sherlock Holmes. Watson's mouth fell agape.

"Sherlock?" Watson breathed out, the other man barely acknowledged it.

"I feel as though I should be here, it feels right. And so does speaking to you, for some strange reason," Sherlock shook his head, "you see, I've got a small problem, I don't remember much as to who I am."

Watson's heart sank a little.

"I think it may be from an accident I was in quite a while ago, not that I can recall much of it. I was hoping you could help me? You feel.. familiar to me."

"Of course I can," Watson plastered a smile onto his face, one that bordered between joyous (Sherlock was alive!) and between despair (Sherlock doesn't even know who Sherlock is), "I'm John Watson. Your name is Sherlock Holmes, you are the best detective London has ever seen..."

Yes, Sherlock Holmes was a real life miracle worker. But for every good thing, there must also be a bad thing - there always needs to be balance.

You can't create miracles without consequences.

But maybe Watson could be the consequence to Sherlock's miracles.

[purple--queen]

Mary : This is my boyfriend, John.

Mary: And this is John's boyfriend, Sherlock.

[ohwatson]

leaving london today and the uber driver took me on the most scenic route possible that quite literally went around regents park and down baker street and that really did it for me like okay bye sherlock holmes nation.

[remusfinglupin]

BBC Sherlock: facing queerbaiting allegations since 2010

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

Dr. Watkins (Porky Pig): [With a goon in a stranglehold] R-r-r-r-realx, I'm a d-d-d-doctor.

[221bug]

Headcannon that Sherlock insists on having the tendons removed from chicken

[doingbad]

“You know detective isn't even my job. And it is not doctor, which is a common misconception. My job…. is just Sherlock Holmes”

[holmesunenthusiast]

Watson knowing about Violet’s future occupation and success implying that they stayed in touch :’D oh god they’re so friends