#does that cover all my bases??

[fandomfluffandfuck]

not sure what to qualify this as, but I read the following in "getting where your face won't spoil the view" by notlucy and it's been stuck in my brain ever since

(tw for like implied cannibalism/vore I think?)

they were initially talking about rimming but then bucky went too stupid (affectionate)

“Steve…”

“Eat you out for days.” He fists a hand in Bucky’s hair, yanking his head back and exposing the column of his throat. Grinning, he goes in for a bite, sucking the rough, stubbled skin. “You need a shave.”

“Eat… me… “

It’s not an insult—he’s too spacey to be witty—but the way he says it makes Steve laugh all the same, and he kisses his jaw, his neck, the space beneath his ear. “Yeah, eat you up. Inside and out. Cut off pieces of you, just for me.” Bucky licks his lips; Steve takes advantage of an open mouth and shoves his thumb in, forcing Bucky’s tongue down, gratified when he gags. “You want that, Buck?”

A frantic nod, head moving as much as it’s able. God, he’s pretty like this.

do you have any thoughts like this about them?? idk if it falls under primal but it just scratches my brain well and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it some!!

ps. I don't like it in a gore way, more like the concept of consumption itself, on a brain sense more than the body? * insert Steve Kemp's speech about eating/consuming/being consumed being a form of love * I really don't know if this ask makes any sense anymore lmao thanks for reading this

"getting where your face won't spoil the view" by notlucy

I FUCKING LOVE THAT SERIES AND LET ME SAY--

Another line/idea from that series that makes me feral that's also, if you think realistically, very graphic is:

“What’d I say about moving, genius?” he growls, jerking his arm higher and oh, Jesus, Steve’s strong, he’s so strong and he could break the bone if he wanted to, but Bucky doesn’t want him to, doesn’t think he would, except that he could, and probably that’s the point. “I didn’t—ow, fuck, I’m sorry, but…” “No buts. No excuses. Next time I’ll nail your hand to the wall. Got me?” Bucky shivers and whines, caught between pure fantasy and harsh reality as he gasps out, “please don’t do that…” “No?” Steve’s grip tightens on his wrist, the pain a bright spark. “Why shouldn’t I? Because you’re in charge?” “Shouldn’t…” He drinks in a lungful of air, desperate and yowling, both loving and hating the threat. “Not… shouldn’t. You can but please don’t because I’m sorry and I’m…” “That’s right. I could. But I won’t. Because I believe in second chances.”

That excerpt is from "those clinging vines that had me bound, well i don't need them" by notlucy

I have many asks I need to get to, and I try to go in order of when they were sent in, but... maybe it's just my barely disguised teeth fetish talking (or maybe it's the vague religious undertone, nailing a hand to a cross that gets me, oops)... I could not resist this one.

All credit for inspiration goes to notlucy. This particular AU of Steve and Bucky, I am not claiming as mine! I'm just writing a general, darker d/s stucky pairing.

Content warning for non-gore, non-graphic mentions of dismemberment, death, etc. I promise it's not as dark as it sounds?? I don't know. This just came out of me 💀💀

"E-eat me," Bucky whimpers, voice strung out and pathetic.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, sweetheart," Steve teases him, just the right amount of bite to his words as he prowls circles around Bucky's strung up, helpless form.

Bucky's wrists are encircled by thick, padded cuffs. Attached via chain to the anchor points in the ceiling, his arms are held straight up above his body. Not too unforgiving, not too relaxed. Meanwhile, Bucky's legs are forced embarrassingly wide by a spreader bar at his ankles, attached via matching, snug ankle cuffs. He's not going anywhere. All he can do to squirm is shiver.

Helpless.

Just like Steve likes him.

He grins meanly, "you're so desperate for me."

Bucky whimpers in agreement, running out of words as he gets deeper and deeper into subspace. The expression on his face is stupid. Slack and empty-eyed. So precious.

"You just want to be in my mouth," Steve's upper lip curls up as he says it, almost snarling the words out.

Bucky's head lulls back between his shoulders, collared throat fully exposed, crumbling under his words, his voice, his promises. Wanting it just as badly as Steve is claiming he does. Slut.

Steve grabs his throat, standing in front of him, big and imposing, "you just wanna serve me, huh?" He shakes him around. Just a little. Enough to make him choke and sputter, glowing red under the attention. "Give into your higher purpose, yeah? Yeah. I know, sweetheart, you can't hide it, you want me to take little pieces of you, keep you close, so all I have to is reach over when I'm starting to feel hungry and..." Steve rakes his nails down his sides, unkind, "get a little piece of you to satisfy my appetite. More and more until there's nothing left."

"Hhuh, please!" Bucky keens.

His dick is so hard, jutting up obvious and obscene and wet between his trembling, lithe thighs. He already must've been on fire before Steve grated him with his nails, but as a result of the treatment... he burns hotter. His flesh turns even more pink. Red. Stained from his hairline, all down his face, neck, and chest, to his heaving stomach. The shape of his ribcage expanding and contracting, gleaming with sweat, as he struggles to breathe is fuckin' poetry in motion.

Steve bites down a groan, barely resisting taking the moment to himself to jerk off or to stand behind Bucky and fuck up into his exposed backside. Maybe not even his hole. Bucky is for him, after all. He could fuck his thighs instead. Deny him everything, but the glide of his throbbing, hard dick between those sweet thighs.

Jesus.

"You're so inspiring, baby," Steve waltzes behind him, dragging his nails across the canvas of his skin as if he wants to paint a masterpiece. All desire and lust. Art. "The way you cry and writhe," he lets out a hungry sound, "God, I don't know if I wouldn't be able to resist and I would eat you up right away, devour you like the starving man I am, or if I would have to drag it out and savor the taste, the thrill, because you beg and squirm and cry so prettily. Dinner and a show. How about that?" Steve chuckles, slapping his side hard enough to leave a handprint.

"God! G-AH!"

Steve cuts his second adorable little wail right in half, with a few equally had slaps to his ass. More handprints. One on each cheek, then a few overlapping prints. More claims. Like a brand on a prized piece of cattle.

And, huh, isn't that a thought?

Maybe he'll bend Bucky over, put him in a stockade so he can't go anywhere, and carve his initials into him. SGR. Maybe he'll make a custom brand, heat it, and listen to him squeal and cry as it sizzles. SGR. Although...

His Ma did always tell him not to play with his food before eating.

Glossing over that delicous idea, for now, Steve pinches Bucky right where it hurts, if his chest rattling sob is anything to go by. Yet, he conversationally speaks over his struggles, "what if I strung you up, tied you up all pretty, and just took little bites out of my new piece of artwork?"

Bucky makes a wordless caterwaul that sounds like assent. Or please. He's squirming, he's crying, and he's enjoying himself. It's hard to tell. Completely incoherent.

"Or, maybe I decide to bring over some friends and show off my catch, hm?" Catch. As if Bucky is some kind of game--fish, deer, elk--and Steve the hunter. "I know their mouths would water just looking at you. You look so delicious. Tender and juicy, huh?" Steve gropes his pointedly tender (from the spanks) ass, unashamed and filthy.

"AH!" Bucky keens.

"Don't worry, though, sweetheart," Steve smoothly purrs, "you're all mine." He bares his teeth. Wolfish.

"St-Steeve," Bucky whimpers. Cute.

"Mine. I'd never let them have a taste," he grabs him hard. His hips. He wants to leave fingerprint bruises behind. "They'll just have to hunger from afar. Admiring all the marks in you--chunks taken out by my teeth." Steve bites his shoulder, smelling his dark musk. He's sweating badly. Glistening. Beautiful. Steve licks his lips and goes on, "aaaall these marks because I couldn't help but steal bites while waiting for them to show. You're irresistible, sweetheart," he inhales deeply, as if he's wafting a fine wine, taking in the notes. "Want you so bad. I want you in me. All of you. 'M gonna eat you."

"Eat me!" Bucky begs, pathetic, mouth open and lips trembling.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve encourages, his mouth is split in such a wide grin that his face aches. He can't stop, though. "You're gonna be begging for it right up until you're swallowed whole, aren't you? You just can't help yourself," Steve pulls his head up just to grab at his chin and pinch his sweet dimpled chin. Shaking his head around. He looks so silly. Yet, Steve really does want to eat him. He makes him so hungry. "You want it so bad."

"Y's!" Bucky slurs, crying out.

Steve licks up his tears, swallows, then licks his teeth and shuts his eyes as he makes a humming sound like he's a delectable dessert. Like he's never tasted anything sweeter.

He hasn't.

God.

"After I'm done with you," Steve whispers harshly, "I'm never gonna forget it." He bites at Bucky's jaw, moaning despite himself because poor Bucky is completely limp. His head is up because Steve's holding it that way. "I'll taste you on my tongue forever. And I'm gonna tell everyone about it."

Bucky moans hoarsely, and he swoons in bonds. Feet giving from under him. Falling onto Steve's solid chest.

Steve chuckles, pleased, but pushes him back to standing, lips to Bucky's ear, "'m gonna say how there was this adorable, sweet sub that wanted me so bad he cried and begged and plead until I just ate him up like the big, bad wolf."

Bucky whimpers, a tiny, desperate sound.

"My sweet little bunny..." Steve licks his tongue up Bucky's throat, over his Adam's apple as he swallows, broad and hot, "I'm gonna tell them about how stupid you went whenever I sunk my teeth into your neck." He does it now. Bucky shakes, silently screaming. "And they're gonna stare at my teeth and know. They'll know how sweet you were. Too bad I had you all to myself."

Bucky can't speak. He can't stop shaking. He just stays there limp, whining, crying, wanting. The want rolls off of him in waves. Steve's going to devour him. Mouth on his throat, sucking bruises and leaving behind teeth indents, and hand tight around his cock. It doesn't even take him three strokes before he's giving in. Cumming right in Steve's palm. Steve licks it all up. His mess. Every part of Bucky is delicious and demands to be savored.

P.S. I have a playlist specifically themed around teeth that I was unashamedly blasting as I wrote this 😏 (and yes, I have a problem. I just like teeth, okay?)

[stil-lindigo]

bite of winter.

a comic about a princess who died in the snow.

--

creative notes:

--

all my other comics

store

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

See, I think Charles’ annoyance and frustration with the Cat King really was just pure protectiveness and not any kind of jealousy - it’s understandable, because Edwin is not telling him what happened even though something clearly did, which is not typical for them. Edwin doesn’t usually hide things like this! Of course he’s worried!

Charles’ reaction to Monty, on the other hand, is difficult to explain in a way that isn’t jealousy. You could say he’s being protective again, but Charles shows no sign of distrust in Monty, and had no idea of who Monty was or that he might betray them - he was actually very chill with him, except in a select few specific scenes. You could say he just doesn’t like him because he got brushed off during their first meeting, but not only does that not seem like Charles at all, it also doesn’t make sense, since, again, in most instances, Charles is genuinely friendly and is happy when Monty compliments him and seems to have come around to liking him (it completely flies over his head that this is a petty jab at Edwin on Monty’s part but oh well hahaha). You could say it changes up their status quo a bit and that bothers Charles. I do think this bothers him a bit, but I think, unlike Edwin, Charles’ fear and frustration here is directed more at situations (the Cat King whisking him away for several hours, as an example) than others. He’s sociable and likes being able to talk to new people. There’s absolutely no way he’d begrudge Edwin doing the same - and he doesn’t… with Niko. Edwin and Niko hit it off and become very close and that never bothers Charles at all. He’s incredibly endeared to her, just like the rest, and for the most part, he’s chill with Monty too, and smiles pretty knowingly when Edwin confesses to him having awakened some feelings. The only exceptions, where he shows definite annoyance, are when Monty first shows up and gets really in Edwin’s personal space to show him the astrology chart he made, and when Edwin is so sucked into the book Monty gave him that he doesn’t hear that Charles is talking to him, to which he annoyedly says that they seem to have been “spending a lot of time together”.

You could say he’s unused to having anyone get in Edwin’s personal space like that, but, again, Niko. She’s very tactile with him and he doesn’t seem to mind all that much; they spend time together watching things. If it was just someone getting close with Edwin in general, not only would that be weirdly possessive for the character, but it would also mean he would show discomfort with anyone getting close, I think. Does Charles see Monty as more of a potential threat than Niko, seeing as he knows her and her personality and doesn’t know Monty? Well, maybe, but again, Charles shows no sign of distrusting Monty at all.

Monty is a boy. Okay. So something about seeing Edwin so close to a boy that is not him, getting lost in thought over something this boy gave him, really rubs Charles the wrong way. Charles appears to catch on just as quickly as anyone else that there is something (or it looks like something) between Edwin and Monty. He is not surprised when Edwin comes out to him in episode 6, and in fact, seems to have just been waiting for him to verbalize it. He smiles and is not bothered at all by Edwin showing (what he thinks is) a romantic interest in Monty - he just doesn’t like it when Monty clearly shows a romantic interest in Edwin. Um. Well. Well.

Charles is jealous. I really don’t know what else to say.

Look, when I first watched this show, I actually didn’t want them to end up together romantically - I love the idea of one having fallen in love with another who does not reciprocate and the two of them still loving each other just as much. That Edwin’s confession made them closer instead of making things awkward is such a beautiful outcome to this build up and I absolutely love it. However. On my two rewatches, I caught a lot more little details, and I think it would be very strange if the show did not follow up on this. That, plus the deliberate quality of these “jealousy” moments where the camera focuses on him, Charles’ Orpheus coding throughout the show, the fact that Edwin’s arc was far more about realizing his feelings for Charles specifically than just coming to terms with his sexuality, and that even the actors admit that Charles’ response to the confession kind of left things open, it really seems to me like the path leads to a romantic endgame for them, or at the very least, that this possibility will be explored in more depth.

**This is just my reading of it. Please do not use this post as a gotcha for anyone who loves them as a platonic duo or people who really love Crystal and Charles together (because let’s face it, they’re super cute too). I’m just doing my rambles. As per usual.

[zeebreezin]

Decided to take a crack at drawing Shaw’s Hallowmas outfit for @neathyfashioncoalition ! I went with a pretty general ‘king of moths’ theme because of the whole reason Shaw’s committing to the Hallowmas celebrations - Being unable to take a break from work for even the holidays, the Black Rook is undercover snooping on the deeply Red moth court. Shhhhh… don’t tell the Queen.

[velichorus-k]

A short mouthwashing animatic because!! I have too many other art projects in the works rn to work on anything longer!! But I'm p happy with how this turned out :)

[caluette]

the truth

[taxi-boi]

guys i think ive solved all of shipping

(click for full resolution)

if only there was a joke to be made between apples and corporate tech giants

obligatory alt ending:

side by side with the original

[spookythesillyfella]

this is probably one of the most wonderful videos ive made using capcut

★ feat : @chamom1le-t3a . @thecultoflove nd @jumjum-crafts 's tonys

[slurpyboii]

Todokami fantasy yuri... see my vision...

[estrellami-1]

Writer prompt: TW (you don't have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable) sleepy Steve telling the older teens (Jon, Nancy, Robin, Argyle, & Eddie) about being touched without consent while drunk during his King Steve days & they realize that that's why he doesn't really drink anymore.

Okay this sat in my inbox for SO FUCKING LONG (I’m so sorry babe) before I finally felt like I could do this justice. Here goes nothing! Content warning for discussions of past rape. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

Okay? (Okay)

After everything—a small, unassuming word that means so much, especially to this ragtag group—most Friday nights can find the six of them in Steve’s house, a few beers and a few more sodas on the coffee table, slow, quiet conversations with a few long, comfortable breaks.

It’s during one such break that Steve nods off.

He hadn’t been sleeping—not that any of them had been—so the general consensus was to let him sleep. Robin covers him with a blanket, and the conversation moves on.

Eventually the night comes to a close, and Robin looks at Steve’s sleeping form before turning her gaze to the rest of them. “I can’t lift him,�� she says. “But I don’t want him stay on the couch all night.”

Eddie smiles softly at her. “Want me to take him upstairs?” She nods, and his smile grows as he stands and ruffles her hair, snorting at the glare she sends his way.

He gets an arm around his shoulders, but as soon as his other hand touches Steve’s knee, he’s awake and across the couch. “No, don’t!” He pleads, eyes wide and unseeing. “I don’t- I don’t want-”

“Steve,” Robin says quietly, putting a hand on his arm.

Steve goes still, eyes squeezed shut, only his ragged breathing marking and trembling limbs marking the panic he’s feeling.

“Robin,” Eddie murmurs, “hands off. Now.”

She lifts her hand like she’s been burned, looking at Eddie with wide eyes, turning back to Steve when he gasps.

“Steve,” she murmurs. “You’re okay. You gotta take a breath, babe, all the way in and all the way out. Slow and deep, just like swimming.”

“Don’t- don’ wanna-” he manages, shaking his head.

Eddie puts a hand on Robin’s shoulder to keep her quiet. “Steve,” he says, “can you look at me? Follow the sound of my voice, I’ll keep talking until you can look at me. Just a little bit more, you’re doing good, there you go. Hey, recognize me? Eddie? I need you to take a deep breath, okay? It’s gonna be okay. Breathe with me, ready? In… and out. Good, one more. In… and out. You comin’ back a little?”

“Ed- Eddie?”

“That’s me,” Eddie nods. “Take a couple more deep breaths, Steve, come back a little more, ‘kay? Want me to breathe with you?”

Steve nods jerkily, and Eddie smiles. “I can do that. Just a couple more deep breaths, and we’re gonna hold our breath in between, okay? Just like smoking, remember how you hold the smoke in?” He waits for Steve’s nod. “Good. Breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold. Think you can do that?” Steve doesn’t respond, so Eddie says, “Let’s try together, alright? In… hold… out… hold. Two more times, okay?”

By the end of the second time, Steve’s breathing comes easier, and he drops his forehead onto his knees with a groan. “Sorry,” he mumbles, muffled by denim.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Robin says quietly, practically vibrating from her position on the floor next to him. “But we’d like to know what happened. If you wanna tell us.”

He glances at her and extends a hand, smiling at her eagerness when she all but trips over herself—still sitting—to hold it.

He shakes his head, squeezes her fingers, looks away. “Just… stupid, y’know? I was… it was during a party, and I was drunk ‘cause I was an idiot back then, even more so than I am now, and this girl, uh. Well. I thought we were just making out, y’know? Just like… having some fun? But then she started kinda… pushing? And I didn’t really want to, and I said so, but.” He shrugs and huffs a hollow laugh. “And it’s not like she was ugly or anything, so I didn’t really know why I didn’t want to, but. Didn’t matter, in the end, I kinda just… let her lead.” The room is silent until he clears his throat. “And, well. I was King Steve for a reason, right?”

“Steve,” Robin whispers, a heartbroken sob of a thing. “Babe. That’s-”

“Rape,” Argyle finishes, nodding. “Very not-cool.”

“No,” Steve says immediately, shaking his head. “Guys can’t be raped.”

Eddie takes a deep, steadying breath. “Steve.” His voice is controlled, even. “Who told you men can’t be raped?”

Steve blinks a few times, then looks down. “Oh,” he says, his voice so small he’s not sure any sound actually came out. “My dad. I… I was raped?”

Robin sniffles. “Think so, babe.”

He blinks heavily at the couch. Curls his toes. Thinks the fabric is oddly rough. “Oh.”

“Steve,” Nancy whispers. “Is that why you don’t drink?”

He gives her a tight, tired smile. “That, and Tina’s Halloween party.”

Nancy swallows a sob, eyes glassy.

“Steve,” Jonathan says, not continuing until Steve looks at him. “How can we help?”

Steve huffs out a broken almost-laugh. It’s too tearful to be anything close. “I don’t know.”

Robin’s vibrating so much Steve’s almost surprised she hasn’t exploded due to pure kinetic energy yet. He briefly wonders if that’s how it works, and makes an even briefer mental note to ask Dustin about it later. “Robin,” he says instead, and inclines his head, inviting her up.

She’s on his lap practically before he can blink. “I’m so sorry,” she’s saying, face tucked into his neck. “I didn’t know- I asked someone to help get you upstairs, I didn’t think-”

“Robin,” he says, then pauses. “Well. I was gonna say it’s okay, but it’s not. It’ll be okay, maybe. I’ll be okay.” He tugs her closer, hooks his chin over her shoulder. Shifts a little. “How the fuck is your ass bony?”

She giggles, which really is what he’d been going for, and pulls back enough to look at him. “I’m really sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“But I asked-”

“Still not your fault.” He tugs her closer until their foreheads are touching. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Go home. Get some sleep. Go to the library tomorrow and do some research. Let me know what you find.”

“Okay.” She burrows back into his neck for a quick hug, and his eyes find Nancy’s over her head.

“Can you take her home?”

Because Nancy is Nancy—that is to say, brilliant—she glances at Eddie for half a second before nodding. “C’mon,” she murmurs, nudging Jonathan, because she came with him and Argyle.

“I’ll head out too,” Eddie says softly, but Steve pins him with a look. After a second, he nods ever-so-slightly and begins slowly cleaning up.

Steve sees them out. “Thanks for coming,” he says. “Sorry about that.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, brochacho,” Argyle says. Steve idly wonders if he’s always half-baked, and how often he smokes to stay that way.

Steve nods in thanks and shuts the door, and then it’s just him and Eddie, who’s given up on pretending to clean and is sitting on the couch.

“Thanks,” Steve murmurs. He collapses onto the other end of the couch, tucks a leg up so he can loop his arms around it and rest his chin on his knee. Eddie copies his position. “And I’m sorry for freaking out on you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Argyle’s right. You don’t need to be sorry. That- what you went through was trauma, same as anything else this shitshow of a town’s thrown at you in the past four years. You don’t need to- you shouldn’t apologize for any of it.”

“Okay,” Steve says, hoping to get a laugh out of Eddie, “I’m not sorry, then.” He gets a barely-there chuckle and resolves to try harder next time.

“Nothing you can think of that’ll help?”

Steve huffs a laugh. “Nah. Already know I’mma have nightmares tonight. ‘S long as I can call someone-”

“You can.”

“Then that’s pretty much it.”

“Pretty much?” Eddie asks, fidgeting after a second. He’s looking Steve’s direction, but won’t quite meet his eye. But he’s smart, so it only takes a second before- “Would it help if I stayed the night?”

Steve’s stomach twists. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Eddie promises. “If it’ll help. I want to.”

Steve takes a breath. Another. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeats, and it feels like the first step to healing.

[fiapple]

i'm getting towards the end of the skypeia arc, & i'd like to say just how much i adore the way the female strawhats have been treated.

just... every aspect of how the way their characters have been previously contextualized influences the story-line is treated with a masterful amount of consideration. we're given so many layers to both of them that enrich not only their characters specifically, but the arc, and the one piece world as a whole. without nami & robin having their specific skills, and their specific values, without those being built upon, the story would have come to a halt.

you could not have skypeia without nami & robin being who they are as individuals. not just because they never would've gotten there without nami, but also because the way these women think is itself foundational to the machinations of the arc as a whole.

to be totally upfront, if you think any other strawhats were more central to the skypeia arc than nami & robin were you are full-on fucking lying to yourself.

[a-crimson-impressionism]

Something something "the episode of Midnight Burger where only half of the people could see the world-killer asteroid coming towards earth while the other half couldn't", something something "only half of the main characters being able to pronounce Leif's name correctly while the other half had NO idea and could not be corrected".... There's something about the signs being there all along of damage to the fabric of space time....

[fuckmeyer]

girl please, Charlie Swan is Team Werewolf and you know it

[disinhume]

I want to break your ribs and crawl inside your chest

[sydney-carton-of-sour-milk]

The Many Illustrators of A Tale of Two Cities 7: A. A. Dixon

"'Collins' Clear-Type Press, let me ask you a question.'"

This is a very long post.

This week's edition has, in my research, become quite the edition.

Sadly, this image is the best source for the cover wrapper illustration that I could find.

You are likely familiar with Arthur Augustus Dixon's illustrations for the 1905 Collins Pocket Edition of A Tale of Two Cities. Several of them are very common to find in Internet searches and articles about the book, if not other editions of the book itself.

But the question raised by my research for this week's edition is: Are you familiar with all of them?

Thing is, as the source above states (read the whole article if you have the time, it's very interesting!), Dixon created twelve illustrations for this novel.

And sure enough, this source from the Internet Archive and this source from @oldillustrations (hello!) both have eleven of the same illustrations - with the twelfth presumably being for the wrapper, as seen in this source (previously cited) from the Victorian Web.

Alright, so that's three separate sources, all with (effectively) the same set of elaborate illustrations from 1905. Neat!

...

...but if you start counting...

...you'll notice that this seems...

...like a lot more than twelve!

Basically, there are five illustrations by A. A. Dixon that are completely unaccounted for in any of the three sources previously cited.

For the purposes of this post, the cover wrapper is considered #0 and is not pictured in these banners.

In full-size set of illustrations in this post, this source from Google Books is the source of four of those mystery illustrations:

#3: "'He stared at her with a fearful look.'" #6: "'Drive him fast to his tomb.'" #7: "He said, 'Farewell!'" #12: "'She appeared with folded arms.'" #9 ("'Patriots and friends, we are ready!'") and #11 ("'You are consigned to La Force.'") are sourced from Google Books in the full-size versions in this post simply because the Internet Archive versions of those two illustrations had cropping issues.

To me, this is mystery enough on its own. Why would another version of the book suddenly have more than the originally-stated number of illustrations by this artist? Especially considering that the Google Books source does not have #13 ("''I know you, Evremonde!''") - why would it be missing one of the "main" set?

It gets even more interesting.

As you'll notice in the banner, we're still one off: Keen-eyed observers of the full-size set of illustrations might have already noticed that #14 ("'Carton and the spy returned.'") looks a bit different than the rest of them - a bit like what happened in the previous edition of this series!

That's because that Dixon illustration comes from this completely random source - a post from a blog called the Paperback Palette dating back to 2018 - that I happened across on Google Images of all places while sitting on an airplane trying to set up this post last week!

And to top it all off, that source is missing #6!

At this point, if your first instinct is, reasonably, that perhaps Dixon didn't actually illustrate these extra five and that it was someone imitating him for later editions, then know that that was my instinct too - until I (dare I say it again) checked those signatures!!!

(I edited the colors to prevent flashing.)

All five of those illustrations bear Dixon's signature, so it's safe to assume that they are A. A. Dixon originals - from 1905, even.

Interestingly, #s 1, 10, 13, 15, and 16 don't have signatures! Does this mean anything? Probably not - as an artist myself, I often forget to put my own signature - but still, I can't resist mentioning it!

So the most likely explanation here is simply that the publishing house originally commissioned A. A. Dixon for more than twelve illustrations and then held on to some of them, eventually choosing to publish them in other editions. Still, we can't say for sure.

And as to why some are missing from the more "complete" sets - human error, most likely!

If you scrub through the Google Books source, you'll notice that #s 11 and 12 actually repeat (one even changes color, which I have no explanation for) - it's most likely either that the book was accidentally printed with repeats of #s 11 and 12 where 13 and 14 were supposed to go or that the person scanning this edition made a similar error.

As an aside, it's so interesting that the illustrations are evenly spaced throughout the book - I had not noticed that until now!

And as for the Paperback Palette source, it's most likely that the blogger accidentally skipped over an image while combing through their edition or just glossed over it when posting the batch (I understand that from experience!) We can see this by adding up the letters in some of the illustrations' captions - doing so reveals that the letters are meant to go to P, the sixteenth letter of the alphabet.

Thus, one must be missing! Case closed!

Except... It's actually (going by both the chronology of the book and the order in which this set was found in Google Books) missing the wrong letter! Here, it seems that In the Google Books source, #7 in the full set is given the seventh letter in the alphabet, G - whereas in the Paperback Palette source, "#7" is labeled as the sixth, F:

This implies not only that #6 is absent from the Paperback Palette source but also that there is a missing mystery illustration located between this source's H and K - that is to say, before or after #9!

EXCEPT... For one, this isn't the only inconsistency I've noticed - there are several places where the letters seem shifted in a strange way. I've seen #2 listed as "C" and #9 listed both as "H" and "I2i" (???), just as two examples. (My theory is that the cover wrapper and the frontispiece may be at play here, but who knows?)

More importantly, though, it seems that, for some mysterious reason, all of the sources with relatively consistent use of these letters (i.e. all but the Victorian Web) - even the sources with only eleven interior illustrations - still give #15 in the full set the fifteenth letter, O. Which, of course, may make all of this pretty moot anyway.

Dare I say..."Oh."

Suffice it to say, just as much as major sources like the Internet Archive and Google Books are vital to this sort of research and preservation work, so are smaller websites and bloggers! After all, without the Victorian Web and the Paperback Palette, we as collective netizens likely wouldn't have ever known about the cover wrapper or illustration #14 (not to mention that the versions of the illustrations from the set posted by @oldillustrations have by far the best image quality and standardization that I've found! Please go check them out if you haven't yet!).

As for the reasons behind Collins' Clear-Type Press not publishing all of the illustrations from the beginning (if that's the explanation we're to go with here), I suppose the question I'd like to ask is:

why? why would you put us through this?

& the standard endnote for all posts in this series:

This post is intended to act as the start of a forum on the given illustrator, so if anyone has anything to add - requests to see certain drawings in higher definition (since Tumblr compresses images), corrections to factual errors, sources for better-quality versions of the illustrations, further reading, fun facts, any questions, or just general commentary - simply do so on this post, be it in a comment/tags or the replies!💫

[datmcomic]

October Daily Comic 8: when your friend needs a second person to do their activity but their activity is Not Good