#frank wiles

[sherlockianscholar]

some (a lot of) illustrations from valley of fear by my favorite holmes' artist, frank wiles

[dailyholmes]

"'Cut out the poetry, Watson,' said Holmes severly." The Adventure of the Retired Colourman. Published in The Strand Magazine. Frank Wiles, 1927

Source

[eightpackdiaz]

this man was so down bad so incredibly fast

[midstpodcast]

ASTOUNDING AERIAL ART 💠 💎 💠

Prismatically fantastic artwork of #UNEND's supernatural ship by the brilliant Frank Liu awaits in the art downloads section of Midst.co to delight the eyes and enrapture the mind!

SEE THE FULL PIECE 🧡

[punster-2319]

Looney Tunes 95th Anniversary

On April 19 1930, Warner Bros. released their first Looney Tunes short, Sinkin’ in the Bathtub, thus a legacy was born. Looney Tunes/Merrie Melodies were originally made to compete with the Mickey Mouse and Silly Symphony cartoons being made by Disney at the time, which really shows in a lot of their earlier works (ie. Bosko, Foxy, Buddy, etc.), but around the mid/late-1930s and onward, they started forming into their own identity and eventually became the most popular theatrical cartoons of the animation golden age. They’ve left such a big impact on pop culture and has some of the most influential humor, especially when it comes to slapstick.

The classic theatrical Looney Tunes shorts are my favorite cartoons. The comedic timing during their prime is some of the best ever to film. I also really like how the various directors who’ve worked on those shorts have individual styles and approaches to their directing that you don’t often see in a lot of cartoons after that era (Chuck Jones and Bob Clampett cartoons are practically night and day in terms of differences). The characters have strong personalities and great voices, with most of them being voiced by the legendary “Man of a Thousand Voices” Mel Blanc. As stated above, Looney Tunes influenced many cartoons, arguably more so than Disney has. During the 1940s, most of the studios (including Disney) started incorporating more slapstick into their cartoons (Tom and Jerry cartoons from MGM being the best examples imo). The Looney Tunes style of humor also played a big part at influencing the Animation Renaissance during the late-1980s/1990s with great movies like Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988) and Aladdin (1992), and animated great tv shows such as Tiny Toon Adventures, Animaniacs, and most of Nickelodeon’s and Cartoon Network’s lineups. Overall, the classic Looney Tunes cartoons still hold up well for the most part (unfortunately there are a few here and there from the 1930s-1950s that have aged poorly due to outdated stereotypes, especially during WWII). Here’s a well-known disclaimer from the Looney Tunes Golden Collection DVD sets that addresses the issue:

Thankfully, those handful of problematic cartoons don’t take up much room in the Looney Tunes filmography (Warner Bros produced a little over 1000 cartoons from 1930 to 1969). The cartoons that hold up definitely outweigh the ones that don’t.

Again, when Looney Tunes cartoons are good, they’re really good. I’m glad they’re still around entertaining people young and old for nearly a century now. Shoutout to @ducktracy for keeping the Looney Tunes fandom very active on this site with their great analysis on the Looney Tunes cartoons and characters. This post is getting lengthy, so there’s only one note to end it on:

[skullislandproductions]

Baby Road Runner watches as baby Wile E. is about to experience the effects of gravity for the first time. “Little Go Beep” poster design by Tim Cahill, painted by Alan Bodner, lettering painted by Bill Franks, on a coffee mug given to the crew.

[gasogene]

i find it strangely hilarious that if you google the quote, "your life is not your own, keep your hands off it," it will tell you that it is not from ACD's work and that it is originally from the lying detective episode of BBC sherlock..? it is literally a quote from the adventure of the veiled lodger in the case-book of sherlock holmes...holmes says it to eugenia ronder...

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

A composer is a gent who goes around forcing his will on unsuspecting air molecules, often with the assistance of unsuspecting musicians.

Wile E. Coyote to Carl Stalling

[voncel]

Mac is literally the cleanest of the gang, I don’t care that they dropped his bossiness a bit in later seasons but he was still the one cleaning Charlie and Frank’s apartment in “Mac and Dennis break up”, so I’ll just take that scene as representative of his entire character from now on, thank you very much

But seriously, it makes sense. We’ve seen his mom, how she’s a mess alone (and his father wouldn’t make much of a difference if he was present). Lots of people that grow up in an uncaring and messy environment tend to grow up and take cleaningness very seriously. I speak from personal experience when I say I get anxious when I see a messy bedroom precisely because it brings me back to my early childhood. Mac took the role of “man of the house” very seriously after his father went to jail, it’s very evident his bossiness and need to take care of people came from that. He NEEDS Dennis to need him, because if he doesn’t, what’s preventing him from just leaving?

Speaking of Dennis, I wouldn’t describe him as clean like other people have. He’s not messy, he likes to have things organized, but only to the extent of his own willingness to clean. I actually think Dennis would be very laidback in general, he grew up with maids and butlers and never actually lived on his own. His college dorm must’ve been a hellsite, though the majority of dorms usually are. Mac cleans after Dennis, metaphorically and literally.

This then leads me to think a bit more about their living dynamics (though I dwelve into more headcanon-y territory) like how Dennis probably takes care of the money aspects (tbf Frank’s credit card takes care of it), Mac does grocery shopping because I think if Dennis did it, he’d come back with like 4 protein bars and some apples to last them the whole month. Mac totally cleans Dennis’ room, atleast in minor ways like dusting and taking out the trash, wile Dennis keeps their apartment tidy by decorating shelves or keeping things in their places. It’s a silent part of their living arrangement and the kind of thing they’d never trade off.

[mrsalwayswrite]

All I Long For - Chapter 1 (Billy Russo x fem!reader)

So I recently joined The Punisher fandom and oops, now I'm obsessed with Billy. The idea for this series wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. A huge shout-out to @e-dubbc11 for their fantastic Billy fics and the encouragement to write my own!

One thing to note- in this fic, Billy never worked for Rawlings and Frank's family is alive.

Summary: You were there for the job only, just make it through the weekend and get paid. But it's never that easy or simple when Billy Russo shows up. When seeing him uncovers feelings you thought long buried, tainted by heartache. You just had to keep your head down and survive the weekend, then things could return to normal. Unless Billy had his way…

Words: 2400

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Staring up at the vast, brick mansion, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. 

This job had come highly recommended from your new neighbors, a lovely middle-aged couple who were kind enough to put in a good word for you with the business owner. Someone they apparently knew. Not long after, you found yourself working for a catering company after hastily moving to New York City. It was not the job you wanted but it paid the bills. 

And it was those suffocating bills which were the only reason you were going to set foot into that mansion. 

Not that you hated the job, per se. It certainly was not what you wanted to do with your life, nor what you got a college degree in; but your boss was fair and most of your coworkers were fine, so you refrained from complaining too much. The hours were detrimental for a social life but that was not why you moved to NYC. Most of the events you worked at were weddings or charity functions for fancy, rich people. Somewhere it was easy enough to blend into the background, to just be another faceless person. A fact you were content with. 

Now you found yourself staring at a massive mansion just on the outskirts of NYC for a four-day weekend. 

Two weeks ago, your boss called asking if you would be willing to work for a long weekend at an estate outside of the city. Some rich guy had rented out the place for him and his friends for a weekend away and he had hired the catering company to provide food. Of course, your boss mentioned that because of the extended hours, you could be getting far more than your regular rate. Apparently, the rich guy was very generous with his money for these sorts of events. 

With those bills glaring at you, mocking you, how could you refuse? 

So with trepidation tickling your spine and determination a helmet over your mind, you grabbed your suitcase from the back of the van you and some of your coworkers had piled into. Holding your head high, you walked into the estate, hoping the weekend would pass uneventfully.  

If only you had known….

*****

“Holy shit, I can't believe we're actually here!” Beth squealed, standing by your side. 

Currently, the small catering crew waited in the kitchen for the head chef to return, all while snooping around the space they would be spending the majority of their time over the long weekend. 

The arrival of the rich man and his friends hung over everyone with barely concealed anticipation. The guests would arrive in several hours, due mid-afternoon on Friday, stay over the weekend and leave on Monday mid-morning. Which meant the catering crew arrived Friday late morning to settle in, get a layout for the estate and begin prep work. 

The estate's manager was kind enough to give a tour, showing where the catering crew would be sleeping. Which turned out to be in the basement in several rooms set up like dorms to the disdain of particular persons. The special guests would be staying in the luxurious rooms on the upper floors. In addition, the estate boasted several rooms for the guests to wile away their time in. In a separate part of the basement was a large in-house movie theater, with an additional room set up with the latest gaming console and large TV, specifically ordered for this weekend. On the main floor was an indoor heated pool, hot tub and sauna. There was a massage room for the guests to book appointments, if desired. Near the lavish dining room was a space with a pool table, short bar set-up and tables with various card and board games. 

Outdoors held a large terrace off the back, leading down to the greens of a golf course. On either side of the course were thick woods that went for acres to allow guests privacy from neighbors or paparazzi. 

“It's beautiful.” You admitted, leaning back on the metal countertop. “I can't imagine how much this place costs to rent.”

Lana scoffed from down the line, adjusting her ponytail. “I bet this didn't even put a dent in his wealth. The man could burn money for fun.”

“He doesn't have to burn money to get his rocks off,” Ashley winked, then gave her shoulders a little shimmy, “he just needs to take me on a date. I'll show him such a good time, he'll beg to have me again.”

Lana laughed. “He never goes on a second date. Everyone knows that.”

“I never said nothin’ about a second date. He'll beg me to be in his bed every night!” 

Beth smiled over at the two across the large island. “Play your cards right and you might get the chance this weekend. I know he didn't hire any kind of female entertainment so...”

“God, I hope so!” Lana groaned. “He's so hot it's unfair. I swear all he'd have to do is flash that big smile of his at me and my underwear will be soaked.”

Ashley hummed in agreement, running a finger absent-mindedly along her lower lip. “Mmmm…I'd get on my knees in a heartbeat for him. Hell, I bet he even tastes good.”

“Think he's a tits or ass man?”

Donovan walked past the four women carrying a crate of fruit. “Maybe I'll try and flirt my way into his bed.”

“What would your boyfriend say?!” Ashley chuckled.  

He shrugged, setting the crate down along the counter. “Oh, we've already talked. Billy Russo would be a hall pass, for damn sure.”

At the name, static filled your ears. Any further conversation around you was muted by the buzzing in your mind. Fingers gripped the countertop painfully. Your heart raced, pounded within your chest as realization hit you like a sledgehammer. 

“Beth…”

She glanced over at your near whisper. “Yeah? Hey, you okay there?”

“Who–” you licked your lips, forcing the words to come out of your suddenly parched throat, past the lump and turmoil building within you, “who hired us? Who's the rich guy coming?”

“Oh, didn't you hear? It's Mr Billy Russo. He's the CEO of Anvil…”

And there was that static again, threatening to drown your senses but you forced yourself to listen. 

“...yeah, I guess he rented out the place for himself and some of his military buddies to come have a boys’ weekend or something like that.”

“Oh…okay. I–I'm gonna step outside for a minute. Excuse me.” Without waiting for a response, you hurried away, moving through the lower passages that were clearly meant for ‘the help’ and away from the main house. 

It was not until you stepped outside, the warm, summer air filling your lungs that you felt like you could take a deep breath. Panic fogged up your mind, filling you with equal parts dread and curiosity. It had been years since you last saw Billy Russo in person. Selfishly, you wondered what he would think seeing you again. Just imagining seeing him had your heart fluttering, desperate to fulfill that childish wish. Yet accompanying that longing was the shards of pain and hurt always attached to his name now for you. 

The conflicting emotions tore at you, eating away what contentment you held for the busy weekend. A rigidness zapped your muscles, making you tense as if ready to flee, to claim something had to come up and you needed to get back to the city. You knew Peter would understand, your boss was considerate, especially if you lied and said something happened with one of your grandparents. You could do it…

“Hey…you okay there?”

You looked over your shoulder at Beth, clearly having followed you out. “Yeah, yeah. Just…fine.”

“Yeah, I can smell the bullshit all over that.” She lazily walked over to stand next to you. You both stared out over the manicured lawn for a long moment before she spoke again. “Is it something about Russo? You seemed to panic when you heard his name.”

You shifted uncomfortably, the duality of hurt and hope creating a painful symphony in your chest. “I just– I didn't realize it was for him, you know? I don't know. It's stupid.”

“What? That he's walking sex on legs?”

You choked, not wanting that imagine in your head…even if you would never admit out loud how you knew already.

She laughed at your reaction, before nudging your elbow with hers. “What's it then?”

“Um, I just… I don't know. I guess I thought the party was gonna be a bunch of rich frat boys or something. Not…not Anvil and you know, military guys.”

“Will that be a problem? Do you need to leave?”

“No. It's fine.” You tried to say confidently but even to your own ears, your voice sounded strained. “I promise I'm okay. I was just caught off guard.” 

She stared at you as if unsure whether to believe you or not before finally shrugging. “Okay, well say something if you need to leave. Shit, I thought you were about to pass out.”

“I will, thanks.”

“Ready to go back in? Peter is about to start passing out assignments.”

“Yeah.” 

After taking a deep breath, allowing the summer air to swirl in your lungs once more, you followed Beth back to the large kitchen. Standing around and listening to the head chef, Peter, explain what everyone's role was for the weekend and how they had better not fuck it up, you tried to focus on the task at hand. 

Your insecurities, your fears, crept along the edges of your mind, taunting you, but you dutifully ignored them. 

The rational side of your mind repeated repetitively how you had a job here, tasks to do. You would barely have time to rest, let alone lounge around for Billy to notice you. Plus, it had been so long you doubted he would even recognize you. He would be spending time with his friends…not paying attention to you. 

You knew how to be a wallflower, you knew how to blend into the background. This weekend, you hoped that was all you would be.  

*****

It was hours later when you finally saw Billy. 

You attempted to remain in the kitchen, picking up extra tasks to help out and finding every excuse not to leave, especially once Billy and his rowdy friends arrived. There were about twelve men total in their group and you knew feeding twelve ex-military men would mean a lot of food. 

Unfortunately, your plan was thwarted when they needed help bringing plates out to the dining room and its several tables. 

Girding your loins and silently praying for divine intervention, you kept your face down as you helped carry out a large tray lauded down with full plates. For the first night, Billy requested plated dinners instead of the typical buffet. 

Smiling and flirting, Ashley passed out the plates on your tray, you just had to hold the tray steady. For a split second, you were immensely grateful for her more enthusiastic, outgoing personality, masking your poor attempts at subterfuge. 

The atmosphere in the dining room was jovial with the men looking forward to the weekend. Riotous laughter and teasing conversations filled the air. A smile graced your lips as you listened to these battle-hardened men who currently sounded like boys off at summer camp, talking about what they wanted to do and making competitive bets. 

It was then you happened to glance across the table as you readjusted the tray in your hands, only to freeze as a pair of dark onyx eyes stared straight at you. 

Your mind blanked as you met his gaze, unable to read the emotion behind his eyes as they stared at you. You used to be able to know, you used to be able to read him with just a look…but that was years ago when you were both younger and different people. 

Since the rise of Anvil and Billy‘s influence, you could not escape seeing pictures of him in tabloids or online of people lusting over him. Yet those pictures epically failed compared to him in the flesh. That jawline that begged to be traced with lips. Those dark eyes that pierced and entranced. Plush lips that were meant to be tasted and bitten. A lithe body that radiated raw power. There was something about Billy, a seductive magnetism that drew people around him, like he was the sun and people fell into his orbit and were unable or unwilling to escape. 

He maintained keeping your gaze captive, unwilling to release you from the visual bondage. All the while, your mind was infuriatingly blank. Then after a long moment, you watched his eyes crinkle, those plush lips turn upward, that million dollar smile people swooned over…

…and your breath caught in your throat, chest tightening, as you easily read the joy in his beguiling eyes. 

“Hey, can you grab the other tray, please?”

Ashley's question jolted you back to reality, like a bucket of ice water tossed over your head. A flush warmed your cheeks and you stuttered out some form of acceptable agreement before darting back towards the kitchen without looking back. Mentally, you scolded yourself for practically standing there ogling Billy in front of his friends. You wanted to die at the vivid reminder of how you lost all sense of poise in front of him, degraded to a simpering idiot. But mostly, you hated how seeing him only proved how even with a glance and a smile, he still made you yearn…

Thankfully, you were able to foist the job onto Donavan, who was happy to ogle handsome men. You fell back into step with the order and needs of the kitchen, trying to ignore the memory of those dark eyes watching you, of his breathtaking smile…

You shook the thoughts from your head. You just had to make it through the weekend, keep your head down and stay in the kitchen. He was here for his friends, not you. You just had to make it the four days without doing anything stupid. Then…then everything would return to normal. Then you would go back to NYC and to your new life. Once you were no longer in his line of sight, he would forget about you. 

Again. 

Thanks for reading!

[rknchan]

why is nobody talking about eugenia ronder she's the most interesting female character from acd canon to me ... and her story is so tragic ... and she suffered so much yet she still resists the temptation to take poison ... and holmes thinks of her as a brave and unusual woman and feels a bit of pride for dissuading her from killing herself

AND HER IMAGERY ........ its going to haunt me forever

(illustrators: frederic dorr steele(1), frank wiles(2), oleg pakhomov (3)

i love you eugenia ronder i love you eugenia 'the example of patient suffering in this unpatient world' ronder

[dailyholmes]

"Holmes's eyes were gleaming with excitement, and his thin, nervous fingers twitched as he counted the words - 'danger.' 'Ha! Ha! Capital! Put that down, Watson.'" The Valley of Fear. Published in The Strand Magazine. Frank Wiles, 1914-1915

Source

[holmesillustrations]

Dogs Bracket is here! It turns out a lot of these dogs are horses, but there was exactly 32, which is perfect for our purposes 🐶🐴🦁

Currently on Semifinals

Most of us are i think familiar enough with the stories that this wont be a surprise, but just in case i do want to warn that a few of these illustrations feature violence against or by the animals in question, i'll tag those specifically when we get to their polls as 'animal violence'

Full list of competitors under cut:

(Illustrations in blue were already out, those in green have been newly eliminated)

[Colliers Cover Illustration] Missing Three-quarter, FD Steele

"On the ledge of rock above this strange couple stood three noble buzzards" Study in Scarlet, Charles Doyle

"He laid his hand upon the glossy neck." Silver Blaze, Sidney Paget

"Close to the door of the cage lay Mrs. Ronder, with the creature squatting and snarling above her." Veiled Lodger, FD Steele

"Silver Blaze" Silver Blaze, Sidney Paget

"Phosphorous!" I said. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES." Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"There's our man, Watson! Come along." Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"The carriage rattled past." Missing Three-quarter, Sidney Paget

"There in the centre lay the unhappy maid where she had fallen" Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"THE DRIVER POINTED WITH HIS WHIP—'BASKERVILLE HALL,' SAID HE" Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"I SAW HIS EYES FIX THEMSELVES OVER MY SHOULDER." Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"Holmes crouched behind the bush with the dog as the carriage approached." Shoscombe Old Place, FD Steele

"Running up, I blew its brains out." Copper Beeches, Sidney Paget

"Holmes gazed at it and then passed on." Abbey Grange, Sidney Paget

[Mycroft's brougham] Final Problem, Harry C. Edwards

[Woman with horse] Shoscombe Old Place, FD Steele

"As I slipped the bars it bounded out, and was on me in an instant." Veiled Lodger, FD Steele

"The dog sniffed round for an instant, and then with a shrill whine of excitement started off down the street." Missing Three-quarter, Sidney Paget

"Dog and man were rolling on the ground together, the one roaring in rage, the other screaming in a strange shrill falsetto of terror." Creeping Man, HK Elcock

"Holmes darted forward and barred their way." Lady Frances Carfax, Alec Ball

"They bundled him into a cab that was beside the kerb" Red Circle, HM Brock

[The professor and his dog] Creeping Man, FD Steele

"Holmes emptied five barrels of his revolver into the creature's flank." Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"We got off, paid our fare." Speckled Band, Sidney Paget

"We were to go to the theatre… suddenly he darted away into the fog." Bruce-Partington Plans, FD Steele

[MacPherson's Dog on the beach] Lion's Mane, FD Steele

"THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES." [Frontispiece] Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"How far to Wallington?" Cardboard Box, Sidney Paget

""Too late, Watson; too late!" cried Holmes" Solitary Cyclist, Sidney Paget

[Lion] Veiled Lodger, FD Steele

"At the same moment Holmes stepped out and released the spaniel." Shoscombe Old Place, Frank Wiles

Full graphic with nothing greyed out:

And finally, i wanted to include every animal illustration, but i did leave out the two from Blue Carbuncle with dead geese, those are not dogs they are ingredience.

Edit: I realised i completely messed up the order of polls in the original bracket, all fine for round 1's results but would have caused problems for round 2. The current one is correct, but obviously had to be shuffled around a lot, so the numbers by each one show their order from round 1 for future reference, sorry bout that!

[sandsorghum]

note to self: One trick to writing higuruma's candour is that he can come off as pretty judgmental but it isn't always from a place of Judgement per se - sometimes it's more knee-jerk reaction or force of habit than anything else, or a compulsion towards analysis. He is totally that kid in the Emperor's New Clothes, calling out the absurdities as he sees them, because it's bafflingly and practically impossible to ignore them. that frankness almost has a kind of child-like innocence quality to it as well. in spite of what adult higuruma has experienced over the years, the way he doesn't curtail that curtness makes for a juxtaposition that's rather refreshing and wonderful to me. Courtesy is a kind of conformity, and there's always been something obligatory, borderline contrived in his participation or performance of it.

I think also perhaps he makes so many judgments, some instinctive, most informed - that 1) he has to actively remember the gist of someone's truth is not the same as its entirety, and ironically, temper this practiced accuracy so they don't become assumptions and 2) he doesn't hold these truths equally, in terms of their value - although they all share a certain baseline of objectivity, those assessments and revelations don't matter the same amount to him, which is to say, the harshness of these observations isn't in how he articulates them, but is more so contingent on how resonant they are to the individual who has to face up to said truths, and how determined plus direct Higuruma is in pressing someone to confront/address them, whether they're wiling or ready (or not).

[skullislandproductions]

The “wet cement” image, from my previous post, here, painted by Craig Kelly, as it appears in the credits for “Little Go Beep,” with the list of animators, as well as an acknowledgment to the great Chuck Jones.

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

Putting on the spectacles of science in expectation of finding an answer to everything looked at signifies inner blindness.

Wile E. Coyote