#strange lad

[guitarmasterx7]

story post

[cozylittleartblog]

hey. hey anon? youa re. so right,

[canisalbus]

I have sighthounds (greyhounds) at home and I just love your characters!! (hope you do not mind silly art) So.... what if Machete.... but borzoi >:D

.

[annabelle--cane]

crazy that there's going to be new magnus content in the world in roughly twelve hours. 40 whole magpod minutes for certain levels of kickstarter and patreon backers. how on earth is two-to-three months of tma vague energy going to shake out.

[the-nothing-maker]

Computer status: dead

I was not planning on replacing my computer so quickly, but a combination of old age, bad battery repairs and freak water accidents has made it an obligation. The expense was unexpected and entirely unwelcome, so!

I've uploaded NEW original pieces for sale on my Drive file: they're 100 euros each, first come first served, no shipping fees. If you'd like to get an original copy of one of my drawings, now's your chance! : https://drive.google.com/drive/u/0/folders/1A6j7OkOOF3L0AIThe48hRs3d_tr6gxJz

My Ko-Fi is always open for donations, and there are still some zines available on my shop, as well as PDF copies which will never go out of stock, if you'd like to get something nice, queer and spicy for yourself: https://ko-fi.com/thenothingmaker

I'm already working on commissions, so I can't really afford to take on any more - I'll reopen them as soon as possible. In the meantime, any help is greatly appreciated! Thank you for your support!

[hana-bobo-finch]

i found some kinda strange emo creature outside

[the-busy-ghost]

So it was that Jonathan Strange spent half of every year of his childhood at Mr Erquistoune's house in Charlotte-square in Edinburgh, where, it is to be presumed, he learnt to hold no very high opinion of his father. There he received his early education in the company of his three cousins, Margaret, Maria, and Georgiana Erquistoune. Edinburgh is certainly one of the most civilized cities in the world and the inhabitants are full as clever and as fond of pleasure as those of London. Whenever he was with them Mr and Mrs Erquistoune did everything they could to make him happy, hoping in this way to make up for the neglect and coldness he met with at his father's house. And so it is not to be wondered at if he grew up a little spoilt, a little fond of his own way and a little inclined to think well of himself.

"Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell", by Susanna Clarke

(The west end of Charlotte Square, Wikimedia Commons)

[heckcareoxytwit]

Doctor Strange calls up a meeting with the Infinity Stone holders and their associates in Central Park of New York to discuss on what they must do with the Infinity Stones before the threats like Thanos show up. The Infinity Stone holders at that time were - Doctor Strange wielding the Time Stone, Turk Barrett the small-time crook holding the Mind Stone, Carol Danvers holding the Reality Stone, Adam Warlock holding the Soul Stone, Star-lord carrying the Power Stone, and lastly, Black Widow is holding the Space Stone except that she is nowhere to be seen in the meeting. The associates with the Infinity Stone holders are - Rocket Raccoon & Groot who are with Star-Lord the Power Stone holder, Drax & Iron Lad are with Adam Warlock the Soul Stone holder, and the minions of Turk Barrett the Mind Stone holder are Bullseye, Typhoid Mary, Tombstone, Sandman and Spot.

Doctor Strange and Carol Danvers are concerned about the safety of this meeting when they see Turk Barrett bringing his minions (especially Bullseye the most dangerous criminal) along but they reluctantly allow it. Along the way, Bullseye is amused at the sight of Rocket Raccoon and Groot at the meeting that he laughs at them much to their annoyance. As Doctor Strange gives a speech in the meeting, Turk points out that he counted the five Infinity Stone holders instead of six. Doctor Strange replies that the Space Stone holder is with them but has to be unseen at the moment. As Bullseye was getting impatient during the meeting, he was about to throw a card at him when it got sniped by Black Widow who had been hiding somewhere in the tall building. With the Space Stone, Black Widow would have teleported to the meeting but she chose not to as she rather keep an eye on her enemy like Bullseye. Mind you, Bullseye was there because he and the other supervillains (Tombstone, Spot, Typhoid Mary and Sandman) were hired as bodyguards by Turk Barrett (who is a normal guy without any superpowers holding the Mind Stone). From the window of a building elsewhere, Black Widow tells Strange that she's finding it hard not to simply shoot all the villains on sight. Bullseye admires the shot and sniffs the card.

Continuing the meeting, Doctor Strange explains the necessity to come to an agreement to protect the Infinity Stones, preferably off-Earth. After Turk rejects the idea, Star-Lord confronts him for having been using the Mind Stone's connection to the other Infinity Stones to listen in on them. Both Rocket Raccoon and Tombstone pull out their weapons. Adam Warlock brings attention to the corruption of the Soul Gem, explaining that the Soulworld has been tainted and while it always hungered, it feels starved now. Expecting Thanos to come for the Infinity Watch, Doctor Strange suggests to use this opportunity to deal with him. Using the combined power of the Carol's Reality Stone with his Time Stone, Doctor Strange creates a window to observe Thanos. However, Doctor Strange is surprised to find that the big bad Thanos is dead. Meanwhile, Turk Barrett is clueless about Thanos as he was an ordinary thug who used to work for Kingpin until he picked up the Mind Stone. Star-Lord and Doctor Strange try to convince Turk to hand over the Mind Stone. When Turk makes use of the gem, he discovers that the Power Stone that Star-Lord was carrying is a fake. Star-Lord checks the briefcase, and discovers the Power Stone inside is a hologram. The situation quickly escalates as Sandman and Groot lunge at each other. Since Turk can use the Mind Stone to hear through the others, Star-Lord asks him where is the real Power Stone, and Barrett answers that it's up. Iron Man and Thor appear to disrupt the fight but one of them is suddenly hit from above by a purple lightning. The mysterious assailant who had murdered Thanos lands in the middle of the battlefield, and demands she's given the stones. She hurls Thanos' head to the feet of the Infinity Watch, and Drax inquires her name. The attacker recalls that Thanos said she was conducting his requiem, and embraces it as her name. Drax, Groot and Star-Lord try to take down Requiem to no avail, but her mask is destroyed when Rocket Raccoon shoots at it from point-blank, revealing her to be Gamora. Star-Lord questions the reason for what she's doing, and she asserts that she had already tried the nice way. Doctor Strange warns Star-Lord that Gamora's sword has the Power Stone on its hilt, but he approaches her regardless, trying to reason why she's acting irrationally.

Infinity Wars #1, 2018

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

no one's writing *to you* in their tags. tags are a personal monologue for their personal blog. the fact that you can see them is a new(er) feature.

there is no "punching down" going on, either. brits aren't oppressed. you are colonizers just as much as the americans are - if not more so, considering the list of countries affected by american imperialism is shorter than the list of countries NOT affected by british imperialism.

For the most part I'm just blocking the tiny handful of you who are pretending this is something it isn't, but there's something I want to address in this, so:

Firstly, I agree there's no punching down, but you have wholly misunderstood that - it wasn't me who said there was. It was one of the nine (9) Americans who have been very offended by me explaining that their strange attitude to foreign dialects rather than just Googling and moving on is considered rude. They claimed that I was punching down by being a big meanie to Americans.

Secondly, I have not claimed anywhere that I am being oppressed, either. You have invented that. Once again, I literally just explained that this attitude is rude. That is all.

And thirdly, I know how new tags are. I also slightly disagree with you though, which is why I'm answering this. Tags certainly used to be just for you and your followers, but now that Tumblr shows them to the OP of a post, I'm afraid they're also for the OP - it's targeted right at you in your notifications. But again, for a third time, I need to challenge your reading comprehension, because multiple of those tags was quite literally addressed 'to me'.

Anyway, I absolutely cannot stress enough how weird this situation is. I've counted. It's literally nine of you who are offended by this. All nine of you, interestingly, have not actually understood what I said, and have invented extra things that you're pretending I said and then getting mad about it. Everyone else has agreed, and that includes the vast majority of Americans, even. If you go through the notes on some of those posts, there are even multiple people talking about how they ended up writing fic in US English, even though it wasn't their dialect, because it was less stressful than dealing with this weird US attitude to new spellings and words. I encourage you to go and read those, anon. You clearly haven't understood the topic, as this ask makes obvious, but you should probably fight that urge to defensiveness, and try to do so.

Finally, let me tell you something else about how Tumblr works: it's called the block button. If you ever feel the urge to send someone anonymous hate, go and click it. It will save both you and them some time. I hope this helps.

[swan-orpheus]

It is 2024 and I am here having feelings about Gilbert Norrell seated across from Jonathan Strange, his tea going cold before the fire, as tears form in his eyes and he pleads with Jonathan to not leave his side and thus make him bereft of the magical companionship that he never knew that he so desperately craved until the very moment that he found himself on the precipice of losing it (potentially) forever:

"There will be noone to talk to. We will be quite alone".

🔪💔

It is too good, the peak of cinema 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

[copper-skulls]

Doodle musings on Grillby's flame

[bobbie-robron]

A slightly strange day.

19-Sep-2019, episode 2

[dickinson-devotee]

Steve Harris and Bruce Dickinson — 1993

[king-of-the-birds]

In 1943, at the age of 17, George Martin volunteered the Fleet Air Arm of the Royal Navy. He left the service in January 1947.

(Photos from "If these walls could sing")

[sefynarose]

my daily due diligence has finally been paying off 🥲

[nik-the-bik]

"Glove" - Jekyll/Utterson

The Henriel well has run dry so I've had to resort to actually finishing my own stuff. Wack.

Summary: Utterson finds something he lost. Jekyll is kind of a freaky dude.

Content Warnings: period-appropriate attitudes towards homosexuality, descriptions of sexual acts, alcohol mention, some angst

***

A loud knock echoed down Gaunt Street as the esteemed Dr. Jekyll stood at the door of his old friend, Mr. Utterson. While his face remained cool, his fingers fidgeted with the cuff of his jacket, betraying an otherwise invisible unease. The habit ended immediately as the door was opened by Mr. Utterson’s house staff, who beckoned the familiar face into the home. Dr. Jekyll admired the neat, simple, gray house as he was ushered into Utterson’s study, where the gentleman was at work over a pile of papers.

“Dr. Jekyll, a pleasant surprise!” spoke Utterson, head straightening as his boyhood friend entered. While Utterson rarely smiled, Jekyll caught himself skipping a breath when he met the man’s eyes, which shined with a warm delight at seeing him.

How did he manage to do this every time?

Jekyll cleared his throat, raising a hand to cover his mouth and hopefully any change to his complexion. “Good morning, Mr. Utterson.”

“To what do I owe the visit?” Utterson asked, rising from his seat. “From what you told me last night, I was under the impression that your schedule was booked up for the next few weeks.”

Jekyll raised an eyebrow at Utterson. “Would you prefer I didn’t see you again so soon?”

Now it was Utterson who had a rush of color to his cheeks. “Well, that’s not what I meant, of course. You know you’re always welcome, Harry.”

Jekyll beamed. “Excellent.” The doctor grasped Utterson’s hand in both of his and gave a curt shake. “I’d be happy to see you each day if my time was my own,” he sighed. “Unfortunately, I can only stay for a few moments today. My morning required a few errands, and I made sure to include an extra stop –“ he paused as his right hand reached into his breast pocket, “- in order to ease both of our minds.” He revealed in his hand a single white dinner glove.

“So, you found it at last?” Utterson asked, the corners of his mouth beginning to twitch up as that glorious light in his eye gleamed again. Jekyll offered the glove, and Utterson took it in both hands, examining it. “Wherever did it go?”

“It was caught between the arm of the chair and the seat cushion.”

Utterson looked up at Jekyll, his brow furrowed. “I could have sworn I checked that chair a dozen times, you saw that I practically turned the thing upside down.”

Jekyll simply shrugged. “I’m just glad you have a matching set again. And that my furniture didn’t need to be ruined in the process.”

Utterson let out a long sigh. “I suppose I am grateful that it did turn up, although more so because the whole disappearance would have vexed me, rather than losing the glove itself.” His face returned to a calm, polite mask again. “So I thank you, Harry, for not only finding it, but for giving me a solution to a puzzle that would have scratched at the back of my mind all day.”

“I’m happy I could provide some relief, then.”

Jekyll caught himself sinking into the calm warmth of Utterson’s eyes. Utterson, however, kept flicking his eyes back down to the single glove in his hands.

“Although…something tells me you’re still unsatisfied.”

Utterson’s brow furrowed again. “I am grateful, Harry, truly! I just…how on earth did it vanish last night? I’m entirely at a loss!” Jekyll suppressed a laugh at Utterson’s quick unraveling. “You know where I left both gloves – “

“You mentioned that you neatly laid them over the arm of the chair,” Jekyll replied.

“I did! And you and I both know that no one else stepped foot in your drawing room between the time I took them off to the time I discovered that just one was missing. For it to fall into the cushion of the chair, fine, but for it to not turn up there when I was searching for it – “

“My dear Utterson, you have a hard time letting little mysteries go, don’t you?”

Utterson shut his eyes and shook his head, practically laughing at himself. “Perhaps I do. And perhaps it’s nothing at all – I just wish I could account for it, don’t you?”

“I completely understand. I’m sure I would be of the same mind if it was me.”

“I think so. Especially since you like to splurge on finer silk gloves than I do.” Utterson’s eyes twinkled again. “I am surprised that your scientific mind didn’t dive as deep into the search as I did last night.”

There was that heat rising to Jekyll’s face again. “I was a bit more distracted by your own urgency, so that I could only watch how your mind tried to work it out,” Jekyll said.                                                                                                                                                                            

Utterson sheepishly laughed. “Yes, yes, you were laughing at me the whole time.”

Jekyll squeezed Utterson’s shoulder fondly. “Not laughing at you, no. Just enjoying seeing something spark some excitement in you, my friend. I think I should find you more puzzles to stimulate that curious nature of yours.”

Utterson took Jekyll’s hand from his shoulder and pressed it between both of his own now. “As long as you don’t think I was behaving foolishly, I’m satisfied.”

“I would never think you a fool, Utterson,” Jekyll muttered, having to look away from the man across from him. He removed his hand and immediately smoothed his front, adjusting himself. “I should let you return to your business, I’m sorry I don’t have more time to chat today.”

Utterson blinked. “Oh, yes, I shouldn’t keep you. Thank you again for stopping in today and for returning this,” Utterson said, waving the glove before setting it aside. “Best of luck with your presentation on Wednesday.”

Jekyll nodded. “Thank you. In fact, I can tell you more about it this Thursday if you wouldn’t mind joining me at my home for dinner. I had the evening open up and – “ Jekyll abruptly lost his thought as he caught Utterson smiling – actually smiling! – in response.

“Yes, I would be happy to come, Harry.” Utterson replied eagerly. Between the warmth of his smile and that damn shine in his eyes again, Jekyll felt his heart lurch and his stomach knot up.

“Great!” Jekyll choked out, “I’ll be sure to notify Poole so that he can make arrangements. I’ll see you around 8?”

“I look forward to it, Doctor.” Utterson took Jekyll’s hand once more in a brief shake before Jekyll quickly retreated to the door, not trusting his tongue to say anything more.

As he stepped back out to the brisk London air, Henry Jekyll found himself in pure ecstasy. He began to whistle as he made his way down the street, promising to himself that he would make sure to deliver as many future dinner invitations to Utterson in person as possible.

He couldn’t help replaying the discussion in his mind. That smile, that glorious, glorious smile, affected him deeply. Any doubts Jekyll had of Utterson’s attachment to him were dashed by that beautiful face lighting up with joy at a mere dinner invitation. However, the realization struck him that Utterson’s regard might be challenged if his curious lawyer friend were to mull over the damn glove situation any deeper.

That joy vanished as Jekyll contemplated what Utterson would think of him if he guessed at the truth.

Yes, Utterson had been frustrated last night by the sudden disappearance of the glove. No one else had entered the room, and he and Jekyll were wholly alone the entire time. It was unclear to Henry Jekyll why Utterson’s mind hadn’t pinpointed that the sudden disappearance must have been Jekyll’s doing.

Because as soon as Utterson left his seat unmonitored, Jekyll had stashed the glove into his pocket.

It was impulsive, yes. Stupidly so.

After their dinner, Henry had invited Utterson to enjoy a bottle of red wine with him before the fire in his drawing room. An ordinary part of the many evenings they had spent the same way together. But this time, as Jekyll worked to uncork the bottle, he had watched as Utterson meticulously peeled his gloves off his hands and neatly draped them over the arm of his chair. Something about the way Utterson delicately moved, putting so much care into the position of his gloves, flooded Jekyll with fondness for his old friend. Always the perfect gentleman, Utterson instinctively appreciated little details. As he offered the glass of wine to Utterson, Jekyll felt his eyes continue to wander back to the gloves, perfectly placed.

A little time passed, Utterson rose to stand nearer the fire, and Jekyll took the opportunity to take the glove for his own.

Utterson hadn’t noticed anything for some time. He and Jekyll were able to sip at their wine and carry on their discussion. But once he returned to his seat, Utterson’s expression immediately fell as he noticed that one of the gloves was missing. He left the chair, checked underneath it, and then at last voiced his surprise and confusion.

While Jekyll tried to show sympathy, and suggested Utterson may have misremembered what he had done, he couldn’t help but be amused at Utterson’s uncharacteristic pout of frustration, and the animated way he paced the room and tried to account for the disappearance. The put-together Utterson caught off his guard was, admittedly, comical.

It was easy to feign ignorance in that moment, pretending he hadn’t even noticed Utterson had taken the gloves off, but while he watched the gears in Utterson’s head spin, Jekyll felt a twinge of anxiety that the man would see straight through him. And if Jekyll was forced to admit he took it, something he really had no reason for beyond a sudden whim, he would only look like he was playing a rather rude joke.

No, Utterson would have to drop the search altogether.

Ultimately, Jekyll urged Utterson to forget the whole thing, and was surprised by how much his voice raised. Utterson seemed taken aback, but solemnly apologized for his anxious behavior. Jekyll, too, apologized for his outburst and insisted that they move on to a new topic. He reached towards Utterson’s hand and even got to hold it for a moment while the lawyer sighed. The rest of the evening was relatively amicable, but Utterson didn’t stay for much longer.

The two men said their goodbyes, and Henry Jekyll watched his friend until the carriage taking him home was out of sight. It was then that Jekyll crept his way to his bedroom.

Slowly, the door was shut and bolted. Curtains were drawn. Jekyll had one lamp by the side of his bed lit as he sat down on the edge of the mattress, hands trembling slightly as he removed the prize from his pocket.

Jekyll held the glove in his lap, staring down upon it, lightly brushing his thumbs against the soft material. It wasn’t the same high quality silk that Jekyll would buy for himself, but he could see that Utterson took remarkable care of his possessions regardless. The stitching was immaculately done, there wasn’t a single speck of dirt visible, and Jekyll laid the glove over the palm of his own hand, noticing that it must have been an excellent fit on Utterson, but a tad too small for himself. He let the index finger of his free hand wander up and down the length of the glove, appreciating the respect that Utterson had for this simple little garment.

Then, Jekyll took the glove in both hands again and raised it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

It smelt like Utterson. Of course it did.

He could smell old books and gin and traces of the cologne that Utterson wore – the exact same scent that Jekyll had bought him as a gift decades earlier.

Henry released a shaky sigh. Wonderful, reliable Utterson. Still loyally wearing the same fragrance.

He breathed in the aroma as he dragged the glove across his cheek, basking in the softness of the material and imagining Gabriel’s hand caressing his face in the same way. What he’d give for that affection, true, physical, tangible affection –

Henry felt his heart racing up towards his throat as he brought the glove before his eyes again. Here, it seemed so small. There was no possible way Utterson’s hand was this small, was it?

The glove was brought to his lips as Jekyll softly kissed the palm. He kissed each fingertip in turn, pinky to thumb, before returning and kissing them again in the opposite order.

How many years had he spent wanting to do this to the humble old lawyer?

How often had he restrained himself when the urge to kiss his beloved tugged at him?

He imagined Utterson before him, rosy faced as Jekyll held one of his hands in both of his own and planted kisses along the fingertips. The tip of the glove’s middle finger found its way between Jekyll’s teeth as he pictured himself dragging the glove off Utterson’s hand, and getting to feel the warm, bare, flesh brush against his lips. How wonderful it would be to kiss those hands, those cheeks, feel those graceful fingers in his mouth, letting Utterson’s hands caress his face while his own hands worked their way to Utterson’s hips.

He'd be on his knees soon enough, tearing through buttons to reveal Utterson’s glorious manhood, swollen with a shared desire. He’d let his mouth get to quick work, impatient to make the stoic Utterson whine and pant like a whore.

When Jekyll finished his task, he would strip down himself, begging Utterson to make a whore out of him in return - right there on the floor.

These were common fantasies for him. In actuality, Jekyll was laying atop his bed, trousers discarded, with one hand working furiously while the other clutched the Utterson-scented glove over his mouth and nose, muffled moans escaping him while his back arched.

Release came, and with it, his face grew hot with shame.

Pathetic.

He had let his grossest, most wicked impulses overcome him again. He had indulged that grotesque voice in his head that he could never seem to shake, and for what? A mess to clean up, a sickening amount of guilt, and one solitary glove that didn’t fucking belong to him.

He discarded the glove and cleaned himself before extinguishing the light and putting himself to bed.

When morning came at last and Jekyll peeled himself from his pillow, the first thing he noticed was the slightly crumpled glove next to his face. He brought the glove to his nose and sniffed it but couldn’t smell any of Utterson’s cologne anymore.

It was time to return this to its rightful owner.

He took extra care to make himself presentable that morning. Jekyll scrubbed at his face and hands, hoping that a visit to Utterson wouldn’t reveal his sins of the night before.

What would Utterson make of him, if he knew the sick and twisted way that Jekyll thought of him?

But the visit had gone fine.

Utterson was happy to see him. Happy to accept an invitation for dinner later this week.

Happy to ignore any possibility of Henry Jekyll being corrupt, dishonest, filthy.

As Jekyll reached home and the inside of his lab after returning from Gaunt Street, he prayed that he wouldn’t be tempted to misbehave at their next evening together.