Please Gordon, Please Just Be Ok…

absolutely gorgeous and unbelievable art courtesy of the incomparable @anayellowbendyfruit​!

Happy Thanksgiving! I have been cooking for two days. Sorry this one is so late, I think I restarted it three times. Anyway. I’m sure the discussion that follows the end of the last chapter will be perfectly civil and reasonable and definitely nobody will throw anything at anybody else.

talented amateurs - 35

Gordon’s never fully understood the term “liquid courage”. Possibly because most of the occasions in his life that call for bravery also require him to be stone cold sober and that’s always served him just fine. Booze as a component of bravery seems a little bit ludicrous. He’s never given it a great deal of thought, because he’s never really needed to. Getting drunk never makes him feel any braver than usual.

What he feels now—as his older brother stares at him and the bourbon starts to hit—isn’t exactly what he’d call courage, anyway.

It’s different. Wildly, disconcertingly different, a dizzy swell of almost giddy nihilism, the sudden conviction that nothing Scott could say or do in response to this news could possibly matter, compared to the magnitude of the news itself. Especially when all he’s done so far is gape, wide-eyed and bewildered, as Gordon swirls a slowly melting pair of ice cubes around the inside of his glass. However shocked Scott is, he’s still one whole degree removed from the actual situation, which that Penelope is approximately six weeks pregnant with Gordon’s child.

Brendon Urie AFYCSO era: 'Good evening ladies and gentleman! We're Panic! At The Disco, thank you so very much for attending this evening'

Brendon Urie now: 'Whats up you fucking cheese steaks?'

thank you @amistrio for bringing to my attention that Thunderbirds are alive and kicking in 2023 <3

Holy... wow this is just amazing love it 💙

"He's following me."

Only 11 days to season 2! I've been so excited for it since the first scene in the first trailer - give me all of that good good ominous Yassen stalking after Alex...

(This is the start of an informal collaborative event with the aim of having at least one new art piece posted every day in the lead-up to season 2. If any artists out there are interested feel free to just jump in and contribute!)

Cherik mini comic about Charles’ telepathy vaguely based off a fic I read while back where they had a similar conversation. I can’t find it now but if anyone can let me know 😢

Not a sad one! Kind of! Maybe I’ll make a sad one in the future. I need to go finish my homework now LOL but thank you everyone for the patience!

I need this as a full fic 😫

The mystery of how Alex had gotten here was another problem. Last he remembered, he had been with several MI6 agents debriefing after the crash of Air Force One then he had been bundled into a car allegedly to go back home and now...he took stock of the barren interrogation room again. He doubted he was with MI6 and he had thoroughly crushed Cray and his plan which left very few options of who could have known about the operation and have the resources of stealing him out from under his handlers.

The door opened seamlessly cutting off his thoughts and of fucking course things couldn’t be easy could they? He mused taking in the tall, blonde that strode purposefully into the room then froze when he registered just who was sitting in front of him.

“Oh hey, Dad , fancy seeing you here.”

He didn’t know why he was surprised, Ian had told him his father was “in the field”. Alex hadn’t known what that meant and Ian had refused any attempt of Alex to ask with ‘It’s better for both of you not to know. If you got caught Alex…’ at first he had been offended that Ian had thought he would break so easily under torture. And then he had actually been tortured and he appreciated the small mercy.

“Alex?” It occurred to him that he had never seen his Dad look afraid before - angry, sure, but afraid? John Rider was too prideful for that. Turned out, he didn’t want to see his normally cocky and exuberant Dad scared. The fact that Alex was currently sitting tied to a chair in what was obviously an interrogation room and with his Dad as a potential interrogator probably didn’t help. Combined with the fact that his father had no idea that he was being brought here, wherever that was, and there was no way that could even be remotely considered a good sign.

“What are you doing here?” He hissed, voice tinged with anger. There was the Dad he knew and loved sometimes.

Some days ago I drew this druid/mage/spymaster John as a medieval/fantasy AU .o. I planned to draw all 5 brothers, but i’m not sure if I have the strength tbh

also, EOS the raven

If I ever was a Jedi I would be like that: