#Not Jack Thompson Friendly

[bogleech]

aloof cg civet voiced by tina fey for no real reason: I can't believe we trusted you, anxious cg musk ox voiced by will ferrell for no real reason, and here you were the first cg animal I was willing to open up to after my tragic past, come on guys, we can get to the ending without this LIAR

anxious cg musk ox voiced by will ferrell for no real reason: hey wait come on guys this is a simple misunderstanding, haven't you seen this all in at least one cg movie every single year since I think roughly 2001?? I bet hilarious cg mudskipper voiced by kenan thompson for no real reason has my back

hilarious cg mudskipper voiced by kenan thompson for no real reason: doesn't say anything funny for once, just frowns and looks slowly down at the ground as he turns to leave

overly friendly cg jerboa voiced by an industry VA like Jack McBrayer or Alan Tudyk whose performance has pretty much carried the entire film by himself: smiles into the camera to reveal he had crookeder teeth and littler pupils than you ever remember. Oh my god. That one's the bad guy. Holy fuck

[captainsophiestark]

History

Jack Thompson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Jack's ex-fiance left New York and moved to LA to start fresh after she realized he would never see her as an equal. Now, however, their paths might be crossing again, and Jack Thompson's managed to have a lot of growth since the last time they saw each other.

Word Count: 5,152

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I hummed to myself as I steeped my tea, soft music floating through the kitchen. I'd finished eating my favorite dinner before now preparing to settle in for my favorite radio program. A calm, perfect evening after a long day. All torn to shreds by the ringing of a phone in my living room.

I closed my eyes and sighed, but left my tea on its own and moved to answer the phone. Hopefully, whatever this was could be dealt with quickly, and I wouldn't miss any of my radio program.

"Hello?" I asked, resting the phone in the crook between my shoulder and neck and reaching for a pad and pencil, just in case. I froze mid-reach when I heard the voice on the other end of the line.

"Hey, uh, this is Agent Daniel Sousa. With the SSR. I don't know if you remember me-"

"Of course I remember you, Daniel," I broke in. "What do you want?"

He hesitated, and I couldn't help feeling just a little bad. My tone had turned from friendly to harsh in a split second, and Daniel and I had always been friendly. But if he was calling, it must've had something to do with my ex, and I certainly didn't want anything to do with that.

I'd met Daniel through the course of dating Jack Thomspon, who I later learned was actually Agent Jack Thompson. I'd met him when I was young and in love with the idea of being swept off my feet by a tall, handsome man, and Jack had more than fit the bill. It wasn't until much later, after he'd proposed and come home from the war, that I'd realized I wanted so much more.

I wanted a partner. Someone to have my back and build me up, to support me through life the same way I supported them. Jack wanted a maid that he could also sleep with, a picture perfect housewife with no external life or ambitions of her own. So I'd left him.

Before that, though, we'd gotten far enough that I'd found out about the SSR, and met Daniel in the process. We were friendly, and had even been on our way to being friends before everything between Jack and I had fallen apart. Since then, however, we hadn't spoken.

"...I'm sorry to do this to you, but I need your help."

Daniel's voice brought me back to the present. I sighed, sparing a longing glance for the tea in my kitchen before plopping down in the seat next to the phone.

"I assume this is about Jack? Is he... alright?" I almost choked on the word, surprised to find I actually still cared about the answer. I gripped the phone a little tighter as Daniel responded.

"Yeah, he's fine. Look, it's a long story, but we don't have a lot of time. There are some very bad people putting the fate of the world at risk, and I'm working with another agent to try to stop them. We have a plan we're in the process of enacting, but... we need your help to make sure it goes off without a hitch."

"Who's the other agent, Daniel?"

"Agent Peggy Carter. She's one of the best we have."

I paused. I'd been fairly confident he was about to say Jack, and to have him say a female agent's name instead was a nice surprise.

"Okay... but aren't you in New York? I don't know if you remember, but I moved pretty far away after things ended between Jack and I."

"And landed in LA, right?"

"...Yes... How did you-?"

"It's not important right now, just... how quickly can you get downtown? To the parking lot behind the hotel hosting Calvin Chadwick's campaign event?"

"Daniel, I haven't even said yes yet! I haven't talked to you in years, and I honestly don't think I want to get involved in this."

"I wouldn't be calling you if it weren't important. Meaning end of the world important. Please."

I paused, letting out a long, heavy sigh. I could practically hear Daniel waiting impatiently on the other end of the line, but I ignored the pressure. Unfortunatley for me, I believed that he really wouldn't be calling me if it weren't an emergency. And I didn't want to leave the world out to dry just because I didn't want to see Jack.

Which, also unfortunately for me, I knew this would involve. Daniel had very carefully danced around the subject of my ex-fiance, and I knew that dodginess was intentional. One way or another, Jack would be involved. But damn it all, I wasn't willing to blow off Daniel's cry for help on behalf of the world just to avoid Jack.

"...Fine. Dammit, fine. I can be there in fifteen minutes. I'm on my way."

"Thank you, serio-"

I hung up on him, giving myself one moment to relax back in the chair with a heavy sigh before launching into motion. I'd just have to make myself a new cup of tea when I got home, and ask someone at work tomorrow what I missed on my radio program.

Just under fifteen minutes later, I pulled into the back parking lot of the hotel hosting the campaign event. Carefully, I stepped out of my car, on high alert for a certain blond SSR agent. I whirled around at the sound of a door flying open only to find Daniel Sousa climbing out of an undercover van. He looked basically the same as the last time I'd seen him, although he'd apparently traded in his sweater vests for a Hawaiian shirt and a blazer.

"Thanks for coming," he said, crossing the parking lot to meet me. I nodded, my gaze going to the woman behind him. Daniel noticed my attention shift, and nodded to her. "This is Agent Peggy Carter."

"Pleasure, I'm sure."

I nodded and took Peggy's offered hand for a shake, but didn't say anything else as I quickly brought my attention back to Daniel.

"Alright, Daniel, why am I here? Specifically, not just 'to help'. And where's Jack? Don't try to tell me he's not here, you wouldn't have been so dodgy and nervous on the phone if he weren't."

"Dodgy and nervous?" Daniel asked, sounding more than a little offended. I just raised an eyebrow at him, so he sighed. "Fine. Here's the thing... we actually need you to go in there and distract Jack."

I didn't respond right away. I just stared at Daniel, waiting for him to say 'suprise' or 'gotchya' or some variation of the same thing. He just stared back, grimacing slightly. I finally came to the conclusion that he was being serious.

"I'll... pop back into the van and make sure Dottie and Mr. Jarvis are alright," Peggy said much too casually as she backed away from us. I never took my eyes off Daniel, my stare cooling considerably from when I'd first arrived.

"Daniel. Do you want to explain to me what's happening here, please? And why you need to distract a fellow agent, and especially why you think this is something you ought to be involving me in?"

Daniel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then shifted slightly closer to me. He lowered his voice, then spoke again.

"Look, here's the thing. You should know Jack's had some growth since you left. He's changed enough that I can actually stand to work with him, and I might still say I want to kill him, but I probably wouldn't follow through if I got the chance anymore. But recently, he's got his head up his ass again."

I snorted. "I really hope this is not going to involve you asking me to talk to him or get him to come around or whatever."

"Not quite. Recently, he's decided to take the side of some pretty bad people, although I don't think he realizes just how bad. A few of those people are in that event tonight, and we have operatives inside who need to get something from one of them. But Jack's in there, too. And he'll recognize our operatives if he's aware enough to see them, and since he doesn't seem to know better, he'll stop them. We can't let that happen. Which is where you come in."

I stared at Daniel again, then after a moment, started shaking my head. I was frankly a little speechless, which gave Daniel an opportunity to keep talking before I could get a cohearant thought together.

"Look, I know this won't be easy for you. I know it's unfair of me to ask, to call you out of nowhere. And I know the only reason you showed up at all is because we used to be friends. But please, please do this. I promise it's important, and if it weren't this important, I never would've asked. I... I've been out in LA for a while now, and I thought about touching base, but I figured you'd want your space, since I'm probably tied up with Jack in memories for you. But we need your help with this one."

I shook my head, holding up a hand to stop Daniel's pitch.

"Alright. I came all the way down here, and because it's you asking and I know that means this thing you're involved in is actually, seriously important... I'll still help. But then you are not going to speak to me for at least a month, after dragging me into this mess to manipulate my ex-fiance, and then we're going to go to lunch. And you're paying, because it's ridiculous that you've been out here this long and haven't talked to me, noble intentions or not."

Daniel huffed a laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile. "It's a deal. Promise."

"Great. So... where exactly am I going to do your dirty work?"

"Just in there," said Daniel, gesturing for a set of doors at the back of the hotel. I nodded and turned to face the doors in question, intending to head in. But for some reason, I couldn't make myself start moving. "Uh... you alright?"

I cleared my throat and nodded, although I knew I wasn't convincing either of us.

"Yes, yeah, I'm... I'm fine. Just gonna... go in there. And see Jack. For the first time in a few years."

"Hey." Daniel shifted closer to me, resting one hand on my shoulder and lowering his voice. I huffed and closed my eyes, but didn't pull away. "Look, I'm sorry to put you in this position... if you really don't think you can do it-"

"No. We're not going down that path. I know you wouldn't have asked me if it weren't a legitimate emergency, so I can't afford to think about an out. Just... maybe you could give me a push?"

I didn't turn to face Daniel, but even out of the corner of my eye I perfectly caught the judgey, raised-eyebrow look he gave me.

"Are you serious?"

"Daniel, I am about to go in there and distract my ex-fiance. I am dead serious."

"...Alright. You ready then?"

"No, I'm not! That's the whole point of requiring a push!"

"Okay, okay! Geeze."

A moment later, I felt Daniel's hand on my shoulder, gently moving me in the direction of the ballroom. It had nowhere near the amount of force I'd been hoping for, but the thought at least was enough to get me moving.

I crossed the parking lot at a steady pace, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. I pushed open the door to the ballroom without letting myself hesitate, striding through without looking back. I tried to ignore the sound of it slamming shut behind me as I strode confidently into the room, head held high despite the warring storm of emotions swirling in my gut. It took every ounce of strength I had to walk into that ballroom, but somehow I managed it.

And then I saw him.

I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting, but the moment I saw Jack, my heart stopped in my chest and my knees threatened to give out. So much history stood between us, and even though we'd ended on fairly bad terms and I knew I'd made the right decision, my heart still couldn't completely ignore everything we'd been through. Everything he'd meant to me.

I took a deep, shaky breath. Apparently, a lot of the world was counting on me keeping Jack from interfering in whatever Daniel had going on tonight. I'd agreed to come in here, and now I couldn't afford to fall apart.

I squared my shoulders, then strode across the ballroom, past dancing couples and schmoozing politicians. Everything faded away the closer I got to Jack, until I was standing next to him, just out of his peripheral vision, and we were the only two people in the world.

I reached out a hand to tap Jack on the shoulder, and time nearly stood still. He turned towards me in slow motion, and I watched his face go from one slightly raised eyebrow to wide-eyed, gut-punched shock. The moment our eyes met seemed to stretch for years, until Jack finally broke it, saying my name in a breathy voice that shouldn't have been audible over the sounds in the rest of the ballroom. Surprisingly, I didn't have to fake the slight smile pulling at the corner of my mouth.

"Hey, Jack," I breathed. He blinked at me a few times, maybe expecting me to disappear like some hallucination. When I didn't, he managed to find his voice again.

"Wh... what are you doing here?"

"I feel like I could ask you the same question," I said, voice soft. Speaking anywhere near normal force or volume felt like it would shatter something about the peace of the moment, or bring our problems back to the forefront of our minds. "I thought you were still in New York."

"I was. Am. Still in New York, that is. I, uh... they made me Chief."

My eyebrows shot up. Daniel hadn't bothered to mention that.

"Wow. Well... congratulations. When did that happen?"

"A little over a year ago," he said, shrugging his shoulders and glancing away like it was nothing. I knew him much too well for it to fool, me, though. He was beyond proud, and he wanted me to be impressed.

"That's great, Jack," I said, not entirely sure whether I meant it. "So is that what brings you out here?"

"Something like that," he huffed. He shook his head, staring off at the wall of the bar, apparently snapping out of the moment we'd found ourselves in with something else hovering over his head. It didn't bother me to be a part of that something, although maybe it should have.

"I take it this is more of that highly-classified, highly 'over my head' stuff you always refused to talk to me about?"

Jack's eyes slid back to mine, looking genuinely sad in a way I hadn't expected. Honestly, I'd been expecting to spark some anger. Instead, he looked like I'd just punched him in the stomach.

"I... wasn't great at communicating with you back then, was I?"

I snorted. "That's an understatement."

Jack sighed and took a sip of his drink, nodding slowly.

"Yeah. Yeah, it probably is. Look, I don't know why you're here right now, but..." He cut himself off abruptly, glancing away from me again with a shake of his head. I raised an eyebrow, just waiting for him to work up the courage to say what he wanted to say. The longer he took, the easier it was for me to help Daniel with whatever this was, anyway. Jack took a deep breath, shot the rest of his drink, and set the glass down on the bar before looking at me again. "I was gonna look you up, while I was out here. I've been putting it off, because, well, I wasn't sure you'd want to see me. But... since you're here now...?"

I started shaking my head. I couldn't help it. Jack, apparently undeterred, stepped forward and took my hands in his. I wished I could say helping Daniel was the only reason I let him.

"You hate me. I get it, alright? But I'm not the same man I was the last time I saw you."

"Oh really, Jack? Then what kind of man are you now?" I asked, unable to stop myself. "What are you doing here, schmoozing at some party with a bunch of shady guys in suits? How different is that to the last time I saw you?"

"Very different! Listen, I get it now. I understand what you wanted from me, and I understand why you left. You wanted respect, and I... I wasn't willing to give that to you."

I frowned, scanning Jack's face for any hint of inscenserity or rehearsed speech. All I found was an honest, open expression staring back at me, my ex-fiance looking more open and interested in talking about the hard stuff than he'd been once in the time we were together.

"But sweetheart," he continued, after a brief pause to let his words sink in. I met his gorgeous blue eyes that I'd fallen in love with so long ago, and a hand clenched around my heart. "I get it now. And... I want a shot at giving you that respect, knowing what I know now. Being who I am now."

I huffed a disbelieving laugh, shaking my head as I broke Jack's intense stare.

"Jack... are you kidding me right now?"

"Not even a little bit." He squeezed my hands lightly, stepping even closer to me. The hand around my heart dug its claws in. "I... I love you. I never stopped loving you. If you give me a second chance... I promise, I won't screw this one up."

A choked sob forced its way out of my mouth as the room started spinning under me. I pulled my hands away from Jack, shaking my head fervently as I did.

"I... You can't... I can't think about this right now. After everything you can't just..." I huffed, shaking my head again and moving out of the way as Jack reached for my hands again.

"Baby-"

I turned on my heel and ran before he got another word out. Hopefully, that was good enough for Daniel and his friends. One way or another it would have to be. I couldn't stay there for another second, and it was starting to feel like it'd been a mistake to come in the first place.

I'd been expecting some slightly charged conversation, maybe even some arguing. Breaking off an engagement wasn't usually amiable, and our situation had been no exception. I hadn't been expecting to see real pain on his face, or real regret, or real love still lingering there. And I definitely hadn't expected to feel the faintest hint of the same emotions in my own chest.

Whatever the hell that meant, I couldn't face it right now. Not when I was standing in that ballroom in the first place to trick and lie to the man giving me the apology I'd wanted for years before finally excepting I'd never get it. The guilt started creeping in like a knife to the heart, another thing I hadn't been expecting.

I didn't check to see if Jack was following me as I headed straight for the parking lot, back out the door I'd come in. A thousand different emotions and thoughts screamed through my head, and the only thing that seemed clear was that I needed to get as far away as possible from here, now.

"Hey!"

I don't know why I hadn't been expecting to run into Daniel, but I'd barely gotten a breath of the cool night air in before he called out to me, moving quickly from the back of their undercover van to where I'd parked my car.

"Hey! Are you okay? We didn't mic you up, but one of our agents inside said they saw you running out-"

"This was a bad idea, Daniel," I said, shaking my head and pausing to talk only because Daniel was in the way of the driver's door of my car. "I shouldn't have agreed to this. I didn't... I don't know what I expected. The same asshole I broke up with, I guess. An argument. Not... not what I got."

I moved to push past him, but he put a hand on my shoulder to stop me in my tracks. His eyebrows knit together as he scanned me up and down, concern radiating from him in waves.

"What happened in there? Are you okay?"

I shook my head. "It was a mistake to get in the middle of this, with you and him. He said some stuff... I don't know. I don't know, okay? This was stupid, I should've just stayed home. I need to go home, Daniel. So please, get out of my way."

Daniel hesitated again, looking me over, this time with a more critical eye. I huffed.

"I promise I'm not hurt, and that I'm fine to drive, alright? I just... I need to get out of here."

After another second, Daniel finally nodded and stepped out of my way. I didn't bother sparing him another glance as I got into my car and pulled away, putting as much distance as possible between me and Jack and everything to do with that ballroom.

When I got home, I replayed the conversation I'd had with Jack over and over again in my head, on an endless loop. I didn't hear another word from Daniel, or from Jack, which I tried to convince myself was for the best. When the radio silence stretched on for days, however, my arguments to myself became less and less convincing, and every additional day of silence was another day to overthink myself into a frenzy. Had something gone wrong with whatever world-ending threat they were dealing with? Did something bad happen to one or both of the SSR boys? Or was there some other reason the SSR agents continued to give me space?

By the end of the week, I'd just about decided to go track down Jack or Daniel or maybe Peggy, although I'd only met her in passing, myself. Finding a secret agency probably wouldn't be easy, but I'd been reeling and replaying everything in my mind for days, and I couldn't go back to pretending none of them had ever been part of my life again. I'd just started flipping through a phone book over my morning coffee, looking for any businesses that looked like feasible fronts for the SSR, when someone rang my doorbell.

I sighed, marking my spot in the phone book before standing and moving to the door, my cup of coffee in-hand. I almost dropped my favorite mug when I opened the door to find Jack standing on my doorstep in a nice suit, holding a bouquet of roses.

"Before you say anything, Sousa's the one who gave me your address. So if you didn't want to see me... blame him."

I couldn't hold back a laugh, at least half the weight on my chest lifting off with the knowledge that Jack and Daniel were both okay. I bit my lip, trying to keep control of myself, as I looked Jack over.

"I... I'm really glad you're okay," I finally sighed. "When I didn't hear from you for a while, I got a little worried..."

"We had... some stuff to deal with. But it's dealt with now. I'd love to come in and tell you about it... if you'd be willing to have some company for breakfast."

My eyes shot up to Jack's. He tried to look calm and collected, but I could see the way his hands fidgeted around the stems of the flowers, and the way his eyes searched my face for any sign of an answer in either direction. I sighed.

"Listen, Jack... I don't know..."

"Alright, look. I'm technically supposed to be leaving for the airport to catch a plane back to New York in about half an hour. But I also got Sousa to agree to let me stay with him for a while, if... if I need to stay in LA for a bit longer, for whatever reason. But if you don't want me here, if it's too little too late for you..." He clenched his jaw, swallowing hard and steeling himself before continuing. "Then I'll head to the airport and get out of your hair. And I won't bother you again."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, looking down and shaking my head to try to clear it. I'd sworn to myself when I moved out here that I wouldn't let Jack Thompson back into my life. I'd been confident it was for the best. But he really did seem different than he had the last time I'd seen him. And I couldn't ignore the way my heart still skipped a beat when I looked at him, or how badly I wanted to believe what he'd told me in the ballroom.

Finally, I looked back up at Jack. I met his ice blue eyes, the same ones I'd been staring into since we were basically kids, before he'd served in Japan and a thousand other things in our lives had changed. And I knew I couldn't send him away without at least hearing him out. I knew it might mean I got hurt again, badly, but I also knew the regret of never knowing for sure would eat me alive for the rest of my life.

"Jack... there's something you should know first."

"And that is?"

"It wasn't fate that brought me to the ballroom, or whatever else you thought it was. I... was actually there because Daniel called me to ask for my help."

Jack sighed. "I know. He and Carter told me. They seemed to have a guilty conscience about it. But I'll tell you what I told them: I don't care. It brought you back into my life, so... I'll take it."

The corner of my mouth tugged up again, and I tried not to let the excitement take over too much as Jack leaned a little forward.

"So... does that mean I can come in?"

I bit my lip again in a failed half-attempt to stop the smile rapidly spreading across my face. Finally, I let it win, and gave Jack a nod.

"Oh, thank god," he sighed, sagging and flopping over the doorframe, the flowers falling to his side for a moment until he looked back up at me. "You really had me thinking I was gonna have to race to make my plane for a minute there, sweetheart."

I laughed and shook my head, taking the flowers from Jack as I motioned for him to come inside. I shut the door behind him, then turned to lead him from the entryway into the kitchen.

"So... do you want some coffee?" I asked, moving to the pot before Jack answered. I knew he did.

"That'd be great." He paused, and I heard him sit at the table himself me as I added sugar and milk the way I knew he liked (although he'd never ask anybody else to add it in). "This place looks great."

"Thanks. It's been a labor of love, for sure. I learned how to fix just about everything in here that could break, since it started out that way."

I shot Jack a little smile as I sat down at the table across from him, sliding his coffee over. The statement was a test, and whether or not he knew it, he smiled back.

"If only you'd known all that stuff when we were in our old place. Maybe you could've saved me from breaking the sink beyond repair."

"If I remember right, I did try to help with that. And you told me to let you handle it while I made something nice for dinner."

Jack grimaced, taking a sip of his coffee. "Yeah. I do remember that. And... I'm sorry. I was an idiot back then. I wish I'd known then what I do now."

I nodded thoughtfully. He seemed sincere, which truly might've been a miracle-level personal shift. I still tried to keep my hopes from running wild, but it was getting harder by the minute.

"Thanks for the coffee, by the way," he continued. "I haven't had anything this good since... well, in a long time."

I gave him a rueful smile as he bailed out of "since you left". I sighed, taking a sip of my own coffee before looking at Jack again.

"So... why don't you tell me about all this stuff that kept you from visiting earlier? When I talked to Daniel, he said it was end of the world-level."

Jack nodded, running his hand through his hair. "I mean, it sure wasn't good. Might've been one of the worse things we've had to deal with. You're gonna like this though, since we saved the day. One of my best agents who helped solve all this stuff is a woman. Peggy Carter, she said she met you?"

"Only briefly," I said, smiling into my coffee. "She seemed pretty cool."

"She's damn good at her job. And so were you, by the way. You covered for her and Sousa perfectly when you showed up at that fundraiser. It took one of the people you were covering for walking straight into my path for me to realize something was up, and even then I didn't suspect you. Masterclass."

I huffed a laugh, but my smile grew so big I couldn't hide it behind my coffee mug anymore. Jack smiled back.

"Alright, so, this is kind of a long story. Especially if I start from the beginning."

"I want to hear all of it," I decided. "If you're up for it... including the stuff that came before this mission. I want to know about what you've been up to since... since I left."

Jack nodded, a hopeful smile pulling its way onto his own face. I could see him wrestling with himself to keep his cool, and I was happy to see him losing.

"Deal. As long as you promise to tell me everything you've been up to once I'm done."

"Sounds like we have a wonderful plan for the morning," I replied. Jack absolutely beamed back at me.

"I've never been happier to miss a flight in my life."

I laughed, and for a moment, I got a glimmer of the parts of my life with Jack that had made me stay for so long. His humor, and all the good in him that he worked to hide, but now, without the layer of separation that came from him not seeing me as an equal.

It had barely been ten minutes total of time spent with this slightly older, slightly different Jack Thompson. By far too early to say anything difinitively. But that little seed of hope in my chest had bloomed into a full bouquet since I'd opened my door this morning, and I couldn't help feeling that this time, things actually were different. Jack was different. And this time, maybe things would work.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmells @gaychaosgremlin

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

chapter 16

cw: mentions of drugs, drug trafficking, mentions of infidelity, mentions of a failed poly relationship, the usual i think

taglist: @zablife @justrainandcoffee @thegreatdragonfruta

Jack’s celebrating as the world comes crashing down around them.

He has vanquished the last of his rivals in Hollywood, he’s amassed five million dollars in just money alone and once Roosevelt won his bid in the next elections, Jack would finish his triumph by setting up his political takeover.

By then he will have more money than Ebenezer fucking Scrooge and come out of retirement to hunt down every bastard who uses his tricks to make their wealth.

“Why are you cutting off Michael from your business?” Gina asks, confused as to why Jack’s cutting off all strings to Shelby’s stocks and businesses to avoid any losses before anyone realizes the shit that will go down in a couple of weeks.

People would become desperate for money when they find it all gone on the morning of Black Tuesday. Jack needs Shelby to be in desperate need to take up that opium deal Brilliant Cheng is making and can’t find a single English buyer for.

“’Cause Mickey thinks he knows better than us, better than you and me, kid.” Jack knows men like Michael, Laurie was like that, and Jack had been on his way on becoming that way if Kennedy hadn’t humbled him properly.

Gray is smart, but constantly overestimating his own capabilities to the point he now thinks himself better than his boss. He’s been told to sell, to follow Jack’s lead and abandon ship before he sinks with it, but Michael thinks he knows better.

The Devil knows more because he’s old and not because he’s the devil, something Eva’s fond of saying and Michael Gray refuses to learn even after these past years.

“He listens to me; he knows I learned more by being taught at your knee than all those colleges you tried to send me to.” Gina is proud of being Jack’s blood, proud of her meager skills and the hold she has on this twat.

She and Gray were made for each other, he thinks. If his niece didn’t have him as an uncle, Gina would be joining the desperate people who would lose it all in October. Jack won’t let her share Gray’s misery, especially now that Gina’s gotten herself pregnant by the boy who’s too English to build his own kingdom.

“Like you listened to me about fooling around with him and the chauffeur?” he smirked knowing the girl thinks he’s unaware of that bastard she’s carrying, unaware of her trysts with the handsome driver her mother’s got.

“They way you lecture me about it, you’d think you never had your fun before you married her… and after” Gina returned fire knowing damn well her worst traits come from him more than they come from her mother and Laurie. “Poor, poor Aunt Evie being so friendly with Gloria while you were fucking her behind her back.”

The girl thinks she has the upper hand in this, knows Eva and their children are his Achilles heel. But she doesn’t know the real story about the affair with Swanson.

“You could be great if you didn’t overestimate yourself, Gee.

Eva knows about Gloria; she fucked her more than I did. If you’d dug deeper instead of thinking you knew everything, your shot would’ve hit the mark.” The gangster and retired businessman sat back in his chair and set his plans for Shelby in motion.

“But you’re young, got plenty of time to learn from your mistakes, I’ll give you a second chance, kiddo. If you want a seat at the table, you have to make sure Michael burns all his bridges with Shelby before you come back home as Mrs. Gray.”

She’ll be back here with a failed coup and her dear husband unaware he’s a piece in their board. Until then, Gina will be busy enough to fuck off and let him enjoy becoming a full-time gangster once more.

Politics was something he’ll be getting into, become the Kingmaker Nucky Thompson proclaimed him before Jack took his empire from under his nose.

“I see everything’s right on schedule.” Eva comes into his office wearing a designer coat closed tightly and a bloody red smirk.

“Only when you plan my days, sweetheart.” Jack watches her shut the blinds on every window for what would take up a great part of his afternoon. “Gonna miss fucking you in this office.”

“Bet your replacement won’t use it as fully as we have.” The witch had canceled his meetings this afternoon before he’d returned to the office after a business lunch and Jack would have to have lost his brain if he didn’t know exactly how his wife planned on celebrating his last day of work.

The first day in this office as the President of the Nelson Investment Company had ended with a scantily clad Eva lying on top of his spanking new desk, the last one ends with Eva stripping for him like a professional in Boston’s best brothel.

“About time we had kid number six, isn’t it, Mrs. Nelson?” Be a crime not to end this chapter in their lives without a lifelong memento.

Harry would be turning three next year, he’d been handed off to the nanny now that Eva is very busy trying to map out their lives and respective companies for the next five years with her clairvoyance. How she managed to plan an orgy for his thirty-seventh birthday a week ago was beyond him.

The witch smiles wickedly as if she didn’t hate the being pregnant and birthing part of this, “We’re ending it the way it began, dear husband: twins.”

Edmund for his dad and his twin sister, Eunice.

Black Tuesday comes with the world losing its shit while the Nelsons are sleeping in their yacht to keep people from bothering them. The kids were in the safety of the house and enjoying the rest of the week off school until things calmed down

Those who mattered to them had sold all their stocks and invested their wealth in the few things that will provide money in this next decade. Their charities were well stocked for the incoming shit show, Eva’s readied the things that would give some relief to those stuck at the bottom of the barrel and ensured everything was on track for Jack’s foray into politics.

“They should be in Birmingham now.” Eva whispers softly as they sleep in.

Jack’s been enjoying retirement, as much as a man as restless and active as her husband can. He’s taken up coaching the boys in football and training Kitty for track before school begins this autumn, trying(and failing) to build more shelves for Rosie’s doll museum and even helping with little Harry.

If you saw him you didn’t think he was at his wits end barely a month into retirement. His gang and illicit businesses help keep him busy now, thank the spirits, the thrill of having to work harder at keeping himself from unwanted attention slowly took up the space work used to.

It was like their early years in their marriage. Him coming home with blood on his collar or his cuffs, pupils dilated from the combination of adrenaline, booze and drugs, and hard as a rock even if he had was bleeding out.

He'd gone out to set the groundwork for the opium, build up his control on the heroin market and even find those ballsy enough to deal with illegally sourced opium. Jack had come in at dusk, doped up on the sample Brilliant Cheng had given him as a parting gift and having proven who the King of Boston was.

One million dollars worth of opium each year until the supply increased five times its worth with the end of prohibition.

“God, I wish I could be there when Mickey tells Shelby how he’s lost all their clean money.” The gangster snuggled against her; face buried in her chest because God forbid the man sleeps without her. “Want that bastard to come begging me for help.”

After so many years, Shelby was back on the show. And sure Jack still blames the man for his role in Clive’s death, but they need him alive. Besides killing a man who wants to die is no fun.

“He will, mi amor, you can count on it.”

[ducklingtheunited]

fazbear frights x Heather's au

Okay so I really like Heather's, and I really like Fazbear frights. So I combined them.

Fanart in post:

Sarah as Veronica

Angel as Heather Chandler

Alex as Heather Duke

Chris Watson as Heather McNamara

Devon Blaine Marks as JD

Characters not in post

Joel D'agostino as Ram Sweeney

Jack (Friendly Face) as Kurt Kelly

Payton Thompson as Martha Dunstock

Delilah as Ms Flemming

Millie as That one shades girl who I dunno her name

[captainjimothycarter]

what about steggy and 49 fake married and 56 awful first meeting 👀👀 if you're still doing the trope mashup!

Man this was fun but heads up: Not Jack Thompson Friendly

--

Read On AO3

If men were meant to be on wheels, they would've been born with them, or at least that was as much as Steve's belief and he held firm to those beliefs every damn second that he had to be on these wheels.

A job was a job but this was a specialty cruel job, in his belief, that required someone who was unbalanced as him on his own two feet, much less with feet strapped with fucking wheels to them.

He was trying his damn best to balance himself as he carried a tray stocked full of various foods, eyes on the car he was supposed to deliver this to.

Steve found himself one moment holding the tray and barely balancing on the wheels to find himself covered by the contents of the tray, landing face-first amongst the splattered mess. He groaned at the shock of the bruising pain of landing amongst the tray and the asphalt, body aching from such a hard fall.

His ears rang from a hard contact, hearing the ring of laughter from everyone above him. Of course, they were laughing at him, he just made a damn fool of himself.

"Sorry, sorry," Steve groaned from clenched teeth, slowly dragging himself to his knees and scrambling to collect the ruined meals. "I'll-I'll go get this fixed. New on these wheels..."

He wasn't sure they even heard him as he mumbled off a string of excuses and struggled to get to his feet. The ground was slippery with the spilled drinks and the wheels weren't much better, making it more than difficult to get to his feet. It was almost funny how pathetic it was with how he struggled to his feet, just to end up crashing down again and hearing their snickering.

It took him some awkward amount of shuffling, having to grab the hot hood of a car that had just pulled up and pulled himself up by grasping it. Every part of him hurt and tears burned in his eyes from the amount of humiliation he felt from just all of this. He was going to crawl into the back and cry by the end of his shift, he just knew it.

Steve excused himself as he slung the tray with him, holding it tightly as he managed to get back into the kitchen for a refill. He took the time for the refill to try to clean himself up, barely managing to look halfway presentable.

Well, at least the chocolate sauce was out of his hair.

"Rogers, new order up!" his manager called to him, handing him a newly loaded tray with much less drinks and food. "Veronica took your other order out. She's much better on those skates than you. Luckily, these folks are just outside the door."

The last thing he wanted to do was take another order outside that door on these skates, he wanted to beg for any other job in the kitchen, but the argument normally went unheard and ignored. He didn't want to make a fool of himself again.

They were just outside the door, his sticky handprint clear on the hood. He could see someone was trying to scrub the handprint off of his hood.

"Uh, boss, can-"

Steve turned around, nearly falling and having to grasp the counter to stop it himself. Of course, his manager was nowhere to be found and if he hesitated any longer, he was coming out of his pay - the discarded food would cost him a pretty penny.

Just take it, Rogers. Just take your time, one foot forward, then the other. Let's get this embarrassment over with.

He was just three steps away when the door was thrown open, striking him in his gut and causing Steve to throw the tray out of pure instinct. He could only watch in horror, through his thick lashes as the food went flying, milkshakes splattering across the leather.

"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?! Are you such an incompetent piece of work that you can't even serve people correctly?"

He felt the fingers wrap around the collar of his shirt, jerking him off of the door and a few inches off of his feet. He gripped the man's wrist, trying to pull him off of him. He could feel his breaths coming in short, desperate gasps.

"Get-Get off -" Steve barely managed to choke out before he was dropped and fell to his knees, coughing heavily. "I'm sorry but you-you threw the door in my-my stomach and the food - the -"

"Jack, just what in the hell do you think you're doing?! You're the one that caused him to spill the food all over us!" The woman beside him shrieked, throwing the jacket she wore across the seat, and hurried to get out of the car. "Leave that poor boy alone this instant. Are you this deranged?"

Tears blurred Steve's eyes as he struggled to catch his breath, not seeing the cause of the skin-to-skin contact but seeing Jack stumbling back and being thrown back over his hood. A hand appeared in his vision, lifting him to his feet with gentle touches and keeping all of his weight against her side.

"Oh," he breathed, still feeling a bit dazed as she steadied him on the wheels and slowly got him towards the nearest bench. "Hi, darling. Are you okay?"

Steve scrubbed at his face, trying to clear the block dots from his vision. She sat beside him and he could've sworn she was a literal angel sent down from Heaven with how beautiful she was. Chiseled jawline, and beautiful golden eyes, down to the freckles on her nose.

Her hand still laid on his arm, the pad of her thumb rubbing gently over his skin, the contact grounding him slowly.

"Yeah, I think I-I will be," Steve sighed, slowly coming back around. "Not the first time that I've been choked like that or hit by a door. Most people don't pay attention to the little guy and think it's rather funny to trip the little, unstable guy on state. Honestly, I don't even know why he keeps me on skates to begin with."

"I think if you had some proper training, maybe some proper padding, but none of what Jack or those asses do is your fault. I'm sorry my ex-boyfriend treated you like that." She smiled at him, holding her hand out to him. "My name's Peggy. What's yours?"

Steve hesitated before shaking her hand, still not convinced that she wasn't some illusion caused by a sudden concussion or maybe from the lack of air in his brain. "Steve, Steve Rogers, and thank you for saving me back there."

"You don't need to thank me, Steven. Someone should've been treating you with some decency. You deserve that, at the very least." She stood up, looking him up and down with her red lips pursed slightly. "Stay right here, alright? I'll have a word with your manager about how you've been treated."

He cringed, his head starting to ache slightly. "You don't need to do that, ma'am. My boss won't give two craps about me and all he puts me through. He'll just make me pay for the loss of food, not to mention tell Jack that I will scrub his car clean. For free."

Peggy's nose flared and he saw a look flash across her face before he was told to stay put.

"Excuse me, but do you know where I could find Steve's manager?" Peggy had asked the first man wearing a nametag.

The guy turned around with a disgusted look, short and stout with a thick mustache. He huffed at her question and rolled his eyes, throwing the notepad into the air. "What the hell did the fairy do now?! I swear if he can't-"

"Now hold up," Peggy snapped, putting a hand on his shoulder before he could go after Steve. "You have no reason to go after Steve like that."

"I very well do, lady!" He threw her hand off of him, pointing a finger in her direction. "Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can't do with the likes of him?! That boy has been nothing but trouble since the day I hired him, wasting so much damn food and money because he can't stand on his own two feet."

"Because he can't skate!" She slapped the hand away from her face, glaring down at him. 

“Because you didn't bother to give him any training and yet you still stick him on those death wheels no matter how many times he falls or 'wastes food.'"

"Lady, who in the hell are you to him? His mommy?" 

The snickering from him and a few other nosy patrons was ignored.

"His wife," Peggy without hesitation, eyes boring flames and glaring down at the man who was starting to shrink in on himself as she stepped closer. "Let me introduce myself, Mr. Manager - I am Steve's wife and you will do well to treat him with respect from now on unless you want to hear from me again, and let me tell you that it will not end well if I hear that you or you're allowing your patrons treat him like crap."

She left before she could hear any stuttering, stumbling response, ignoring how he struggled to shout something that resembled a word after her. She found Steve still sitting on the bench, looking utterly exhausted. The poor boy had black bags under his eyes and looked nearly transparent as his head laid back to soak in the sun.

She could see where the bruises were starting to blossom from where Jack had grabbed him, bruises forming on his knees from where he'd fallen and struggled to get back to his feet after he'd been tripped.

The poor guy just looked miserable, like he was barely hanging together by a thin string. She didn't know how he handled it, she would've been fired from day one for throwing a skate at a bastard's head.

"Steve," Peggy softly said, smiling when baby blue met hers. "There you are, hi."

"Hi," Steve croaked, his cheeks heating up at the sight of her smile. "What did my boss say? I-I'm sorry if he yelled at you."

Peggy shrugged slightly, picking Steve's skates up to throw them into the overfilled bin. "You don't need to worry about your boss. Though..." She cleared her throat slightly and looked almost embarrassed. "There might be a situation where he thinks that I'm your wife."

Steve choked on his breath as he quickly sat up, face unreadable to her. "You-you told him you were my wife?!"

She frowned, looking at him with pursed lips. "Yes? I apologize, it just came out. Is that going to be a problem?"

He frowned and put her question to thought. No one he knew seemed to know his manager and even if word somehow did spread around that he was suddenly married, he doubted anyone would be surprised.

"No," he eventually said, hearing her little sigh of relief. "Just, not like I'm ungrateful, ma'am, just why did you help me? What do I owe you for this?"

In his experience, no one wanted something for nothing.

"Why would you owe me?" Peggy's eyes softened, lips twitching into a small smile. "You don't owe me, darling. I wanted to help you simply because you deserve to be helped." 

It wasn't fair just how adorable his pouting was and how kissable his lips looked.

"Alright, alright," she sighed, already seeing how he was gearing up to argue with her. "I suppose there's one thing you can assist me with - since we've already established that you're my husband. We can tell my mother, so she can stop setting me up with men like Jack Thompson. She just lives in England."

She adored how much his face lit up, those dimples as he smiled brightly at her. 

"Deal," he laughed. "Only let's come up with a better story than me being unable to skate."

[eldrai]

Can I please get Hotch and pushed from a moving vehicle? Pretty please? 😇

Thank you for sending the funniest ask I think I will ever get. Like yes, yes you can get him pushed from a moving vehicle!

It's uploaded on ao3 here in case you prefer reading it there.

CW for fairly graphic injury and blood.

2.9k of Hotch and Morgan, questionably platonic

My bingo card is here!

Aaron realised the sheriff and his deputy were the unsubs they were chasing just a few minutes too late – in a small department, their range of vehicles were limited and he found himself in a cruiser with the pair. Alone.

And their profile ended in suicide.

Discretely as he could with his phone in his pocket, not wanting to alert either man to his realisation, he keyed in a message to the team. Three letters. He held his phone, waited for it to buzz with their reply, with some confirmation he wasn’t the only one who knew. That they recognised the trap he’d inadvertently walked into. The signal was spotty, and if it did go through…

The reply did not come in time.

Behind him, Byrnes, the deputy, called his partner’s name. Aaron saw him glance over at him via the mirror. Saw the other man nod tightly.

Thompson jerked the wheel and they lurched violently towards the sheer rock face. The grim determination on his face was set like steel.

Out here were dangerous, steep, and often unguarded – and the mountain pass they were speeding down was no exception.

Aaron leant across him and wrenched it right, fighting the man’s grip. Their tyres screeched.

A pair of unsubs, one dominant, one submissive.

Byrnes’ hands forced his shoulders back. Aaron ducked forwards to avoid them.

Their destination was a red herring but they knew that, had stood and listened to them close in on the pair through their profiles. They were in it together. Intended to end it together.

As Aaron elbowed Thompson in the ribs Byrnes slammed his head into the headrest, the impact juddering right through his neck.

They were veering steadily to the side, and it was only the rocks which abruptly rose either side of the road keeping them from going over the verge. Thompson let out a low groan but clung on to the wheel with a white-knuckled grip.

Byrnes threw the passenger door open. Air whistled by. Aaron slammed the breaks and they lurched forwards, but Thompson stamped on his foot and kicked it aside. Thompson glanced in the rearview mirror and spun the wheel sharply to the right.

Aaron lost his hold on the steering wheel and braced himself against the dash, wind beating against his back. Its roar was deafening. The car rumbled over the worn asphalt. He swayed with every jolt.

The SUV behind them flicked on its lights.

 Byrnes twisted into the space between them, his friendly smile an angry grimace, and planted his foot on Aaron’s chest.

The cliffside was coming up.

Byrnes kicked.

Everything around him slowed.

He fell and the air buffeting around them softened; his stomach lurched as he felt his centre of gravity tip past the rim of the cruiser. And for a sickening moment Aaron let go and held on to nothing at all.

Instinct prevailed.

Aaron laced his fingers together behind his head and turned his face to the crook of his elbow just as the grey rushed up to meet him.

The SUV’s behind the cruiser it’s—

He bore the impact with his shoulder, fire shooting through it and along his spine, and rolled. Bone crunched between his head and the road. The world became a dizzying array of sky blue and darkness. Grit crunched and his skin seared.

The engine roared. Aaron closed his eyes and saw Jack. His hair fluttered in the rush of air—

It skidded past, pelting him with a spray of gravel.

Pain rattled through him like a stone chipped across the road. Thrown onto a hard landing over and over, skin scraped raw, all he could do was bear down, tuck his chin to his chest, his ear whining a high-pitched note.

He hit the edge of the road and everything was softer beneath him, grass cushioning hard-packed earth, but sticks and stones stabbed through his clothes as he rolled. His shin slammed into a stubborn rock and sharp pain exploded through the bone.

As he slowed he grasped at the shrubbery around him, blistered palms screaming. Sharp weeds cut his face without his hands to shield it. His heels ground into the dirt. Aaron sucked in a desperate breath and dropped his head into his hands, steadying himself amongst the vertigo.

The side of his face was a stinging mess of pain, hot blood streaking down his neck and soaking into his collar, from his hairline to the torn up skin on his lower lip. Aaron spat out blood and rolled onto his back, squinting at the sudden brightness.

He touched his face with a wince. His fingertips grazed the raw skin in the shallow scrapes and came away smeared with blood and dirt. Aaron lifted his head tentatively and was relieved as the ground seemed to stabilise beneath him, his dizziness fading. The tinnitus hadn’t.

Shoes scuffed on gravel and his hand flew to his holster. The movement sent a sharp jolt through the shoulder he’d landed on.

“Whoa, it’s just me,” Morgan called.

Aaron cleared his throat. “Did you get them?”

His voice was slurred, his lip swollen and mouth insistent on filling with blood, but it made enough sense that Morgan understood. “Yeah, they… there’s rangers down there but I think they’re probably dead.”

Morgan knelt beside him with a sharp whistle.

“It looks worse than it is,” he said, though the very words pulled at the burning muscles beneath. “It’s OK.”

“…uh-huh.”

Aaron propped himself up on his good side and raised a hand to his ear. There was no new blood despite the ringing. The movement sent a surge of pain through his head and he groaned. Though he’d saved himself from slamming it straight to the asphalt, his arm hadn’t been much softer an alternative.

The blood dribbled down his forehead and he wiped at his brow. His forearm prickled with sharp heat, his shirt sleeve in tatters.

“Don’t move,” Morgan said. “Your neck—”

“Didn’t hit anything,” Aaron said. His shin twinged but the scrape was minor compared to his face. He did not want an ambulance and he definitely didn’t need one.

He bit back a groan as Morgan put a hand on his injured shoulder and pulled away from the touch.

“Didn’t hit anything,” Morgan teased. “Sure.”

Aaron flexed his fingers, numb with pins and needles, and pain wired through his shoulder. “I think it’s just dislocated.”

He took the hand Morgan offered and got to his feet. As he stretched out, his body lit up with pain, tender and sore from the terrain, and the muscles at his shoulder spasmed. Definitely dislocated, and his wrist was beginning to nag badly enough it might not just sprained.

“It might be better than it looks but it looks awful,” Morgan said. His hand wasn’t far from Aaron’s elbow as they picked their way back through the forest edge. The road was bathed in flickering police lights.

He’d gone more forwards than he thought, given as Morgan was angling them back along the road as well as towards it. As he reached the asphalt, a sudden wave of vertigo caught him off guard and his leg gave out. He stumbled. His sock was soaked with blood.

Aaron hitched up his pants leg and—yes. That would explain it.

“Jesus,” Morgan said, glancing at the bloody gash where the stone had ripped off a chunk of his flesh. “You said you were fine!”

“I thought it was a scratch,” he said. The wooziness made his thoughts sluggish and he spoke before thinking, vaguely defensive. “And you listened.”

“So just for the record,” Morgan said, “you’re telling me not to listen to you.”

“It felt like a scratch,” Aaron protested.

They passed a dark smear of blood, which trailed off at the grass edge

The guardrail was a twisted mess of metal, bent outwards over the rock face. Thompson and Byrnes had achieved their goal; he doubted they’d be discovering anything other than bodies.

Past that, their SUV hadn’t come out unscathed. A jagged line cut through its paintwork and the front bumper had crumpled. He wiped away blood. “Is everyone all right?”

“We’re fine,” Morgan said. “Worry about yourself for once.”

“You hit the side,” he said. Speaking pulled at his split lip and he dabbed at the corner of his mouth.

“Barely touched it,” Morgan said. “I didn’t have much time to get out the way.”

His head ached. “When did you notice they were the unsubs?”

“When Thompson tried to throw you off the cliff.”

“No, the lights.”

“When you went to the side I figured it could’ve been some kind of medical thing with Thompson, but when the other guy grabbed you, I realised they fit the profile.”

“Stupid position to try and kill me,” Aaron said. “You were right there.”

“Desperation,” Morgan said. “Arrogance. We weren’t on to them because they were good at planning.”

Someone had procured a first aid kit from one of the other police cars – now parked to barricade the road. Still a little drained, he refused a seat but let himself lean on the hood of one as he pressed tissues to his face. They came away covered in blood within a minute and did little to dislodge the gravel, just dragged it around in the wound, but they stemmed the flow. Morgan came back with one of the detectives offering them a lift to the ER.

With the rush of adrenaline starting to subside, his shoulder was starting to eclipse the stinging on his face and his leg was a close second; Aaron protested but Morgan spoke over him and accepted it on his behalf.

The glimpse of his face in the car’s mirrors had not been flattering, and the mess resembled raw meat in a way that made his stomach flip if he thought too much into that. Even so Aaron had almost forgotten by the time they arrived and the stares baffled him until he responded to the receptionist asking his name and tasted blood again.

It got him a bed. Probably more for other people’s sake than his own but he wasn’t going to complain about being further away from the centre of the noise.

“You don’t have to stay,” Aaron said.

“And have you walk out the moment I’m gone?” Morgan said.

“I’m not going to walk out.”

“You told me not to listen to you,” Morgan reminded him. “It was just a scratch, remember?”

“Funnily enough,” Aaron said dryly, “being thrown out of a moving car is a slightly confusing experience.”

He just hoped Morgan didn’t get it into his head that he might have a concussion, because that meant a scan if they were extra worried and landing like he did… admittedly might warrant that concern. His ear was still whining but it wasn’t as loud. He hadn’t told Morgan because that was tantamount to outright asking for an MRI.

(It made no difference in the end, because like he suspected, they wanted him to undergo one to rule out damage to his head and neck.

He supposed it was a small price to pay considering what might’ve happened if he hadn’t landed as luckily as he had.)

Morgan was still waiting when they brought Aaron back. It was unnecessary but, well, he couldn’t say he didn’t appreciate it.

“You might want to step out,” the doctor had suggested. “The sound can be uncomfortable to hear.”

Morgan deferred to Aaron, who didn’t mind him being there; his shoulder was sat partially out of the joint, instead of completely, and he bore both the pop and the sharp spike of pain as they got it back in with minimal complaint. His wrist was a torn muscle, which explained the pain, and in all honesty he was mainly relieved it wasn’t broken.

With immediate danger and the most pressing injuries ruled out, their next concern was cleaning out and dressing the wounds which composed most of the side of his face. In hindsight he’d have preferred another MRI, because both involved copious amounts of lying still, the scan was less painful.

He lay on his side as a doctor with a tray of instruments and a kidney dish for the gravel began to rinse the dirt and detritus from his face. None were deep enough to warrant stitches, thankfully, though his lip was torn in all the right places to make for awkward healing – not to mention the faint lisp the swelling gave him if he didn’t pay attention to how he was speaking.

“What time is it?” Aaron asked.

Morgan gave it to him. Aaron reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone – part of it. The rest were shattered remnants in his pocket. Predictably, switching it on did absolutely nothing. He thought it had held together remarkably well, all things considered.

“I was going to let Jessica know we’ll be back later,” he explained. “And about…”

He took in a sharp breath as the doctor eased a stubborn little stone out of his face.

“I’ll message her for you,” Morgan offered, and got out his phone. He found her contact and looked to Aaron expectingly.

He thought for a moment and dictated, “I’m in the ER.”

“Really?” Morgan said. “That’s what you want to lead with? I’m in the ER.”

“Don’t worry,” Aaron continued, pointedly glancing at his phone.

Morgan shook his head in disbelief. His laugh lit up his face, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, that’s – that’s reassuring, Hotch. I’m sure she won’t.”

“She knows what I mean,” he said, though Morgan’s amusement was faintly catching and he couldn’t say he was irritated.

“All right,” Morgan said, raising a hand in defeat. “It’s your funeral.”

“It isn’t major—don’t look at me like that,” Aaron said, and Morgan, who hadn’t looked up from the phone but whose expression had said enough, smirked. “—but my face is scraped on one side and it might make Jack uneasy.”

That was a fear he’d acquired in the aftermath of Foyet, that he’d one day come home with too much anger in his eyes or another man’s blood splashed across his hands. That he’d frighten Jack.

And like he always did, Morgan tore those thoughts right from his head. “You know he won’t care,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I know,” Aaron said. He knew in the logical sense but that corner of his mind never went truly silent.

The warmth in Morgan’s voice did a good job of speaking over it.

“You gonna tell her about the shoulder?”

“It’ll only be sore for a day or two,” he said. Though the time it took him to recover from them fully was slowly increasing with his age, he’d dealt with enough dislocations in his life – the majority of them being when they were kids – that Jessica knew not to worry too much about them.

“And what do you want me to say when she asks why?”

The tweezers hit a particularly raw spot and he winced. “That depends how she—”

Morgan’s ringtone went off.

“—asks,” Aaron said.

“Hi,” Morgan said, settling back in the chair and stretching his arm across the back of them. “No, no, he is. Yeah. He – I’ll let him tell you that part, actually.”

He had to shuffle forwards to be able to reach Aaron’s head and hold the phone to his ear. Aaron found himself unintentionally looking into Morgan’s eyes, the flecks of lighter brown in the darkness, how they shone with amusement as he passed the phone over.

“What did you do?” Jessica asked.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said. She huffed but some of the worry was dissipating as he spoke. “I fell, I’m only here because there was a lot of blood, but it’s minor.”

Morgan muffled his incredulity with a hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“You fell,” Jessica said. “Hard enough that your phone is broken and you’ve managed to skin half your entire face. But you’re fine.”

“Yes,” Aaron said. “I just wanted to warn you because it does look worse.”

“Can Morgan hear me?”

“Not right now.”

“Can you put me on speaker?”

He did and held the phone between them with a creeping sense of resignation. The tweezers jabbed him again and a sharp breath hissed through his teeth. Though it wasn’t severe enough for them to keep him in, the blood loss was taking the edge off his consciousness and Aaron was a little groggy with it.

“What happened?” Jessica said. “He says he ‘fell’.”

“I’m right here,” Aaron said. They ignored him.

“He isn’t lying,” Morgan said, “it really is minor considering everything.”

“Everything being…?”

“The unsubs threw him out of a moving car,” Morgan said.

“Tell me you’re joking.” She sighed. “Aaron, they did that?”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts,” Jessica said. “You got thrown out of a car and that was a minor fall?”

“I didn’t say the fall was minor,” he said.

“Aaron,” Morgan said. “Stop digging.”

He rolled his eyes but fell silent. The raw skin stung. Aaron glanced sideways at the amount of grit in the metal kidney basin and was very grateful he’d come away with as little damage as he had.

“He’s okay,” Morgan said. “They’re just finishing up.”

“Have you ever had a case where nobody gets hurt?” Jessica said. “At all? Because I’m starting to think not.”

“It could’ve been worse,” Aaron said, stifling a yawn. It really was taking a toll on him.

“How?”

“Morgan could’ve hit me with his car.”

[shallowseeker]

My turn for Friendly Friday! a) Which character would you resurrect in later SPN seasons, if any?; b) Which writer would you hire to helm an SPN sequel?

Ooo, thank you!

OG Kevin Tran. There was the perfect opportunity for it to happen when Donatello got brain-melted. Say, Cas tries to heal Donatello, and through the power invested by someone else's soul or other, Donatello comes back with a BANG, but he's no longer a prophet. The power rebounded all the way back and resurrected The Kevin Tran, but very crucially, he doesn't want to help The Winchesters anymore, and that causes Big Tension. Jack will argue in his favor, because he failed to protect AU Kevin from AU Michael.

Writer for the sequel? I know everyone and their brother would insist on Robbie Thompson for his love and care, but I actually...love his themes more than I love his dialogue, which I found rather clumsy in both his OG run and in The Winchesters. I also don't think he has a good ear for Sam or Cas, so... I'm choosing Ben Edlund, the wryest Cas to ever Cas (more “lost in translation” style than “stupid duck” style) and who can tap into Sam's inner asshole even when Sam's trying to play nice. This second in command can be Meredith Glynn, because I like how she structures scenes, and that's just how my heart feels today. The heart wants what it wants.

I’ll happily trust Robbie with Dean and creating annoying-but-eventually-kinda-endearing side characters + world building + big plots. But I just don’t think he has the chops for quite hitting what I need with Sam and Cas, respectively, and a sequel would need to be so heavily Sam-driven, no offense. 🙏 (Besties, don’t kill me. I could be wrong. I don’t actually study the writers in depth.)

[roboticonography]

Hi this is the Agent Carter asker, thank you for being so nice about my headcanons, I love your writing so much! I don't want to bother you by talking your ear off so promise this is my last ask. Based off Markus and McFeely saying that Peggy's two children from her TWS pictures would have Super soldier DNA (because they support the closed loop theory, but this could work for alternate timelines too) Mr. Carter and the little Carters could be doing things that are life-threatening for normal folks but are cakewalks for them as part of Steve's "offscreen sitcom husband" shenanigans:

Director Peggy: Oh, Grant took the children cliff-diving off Niagara Falls for the weekend. I've got the house to myself, I can finally catch up with the latest Agatha Christie

Jack Thompson, who's been gaslit about Peggy's marriage since 1949: That doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about Marge's weird-ass personal life to dispute it

And even Daniel Sousa could pop by for the occasional cameo after he "dies" in 1955, like his and Daisy's spaceship lands in the Carter backyard and Daniel casually walks out like "Oh hey Peg, hey Steve" because of course he knows what's up. Maybe he brings Steve some modern album vinyls (God bless 21st century Brooklyn hipsters for giving mid-century Steve the means to listen to Carly Rae Jepsen), Steve makes them all a nice dinner then Daniel and Daisy fly off again

Well, hello again! Welcome back 😁

I haven't given a lot of thought to the possibility of superpowered kiddos, but I enjoy the incredibly wholesome idea of Steve taking the kids on fun little athletic adventures while Peggy is at home in a hot bath with a whiskey and a good book.

I also like the idea of Peggy and Daniel reuniting on friendly terms - however they ended their relationship, it seemed sad that she would spend the rest of her life thinking he died in 1955.

Thanks for sharing!

[tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons]

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#it takes so many people and so much work to make someone's vision come to life. they do not deserve to have their credit pushed away like th

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I’ve definitely said it before, but the situation on Twitter right now really shows how people are more insistent on defending Tim Burton’s **little** involvement in The Nightmare Before Christmas, instead of properly appreciating/crediting Henry Selick’s work.

Burton producing the movie does not mean he directed it. He protected it from Disney’s interference and let the crew handle the movie as they wanted. And, yes, he originally created the characters & world - but that doesn’t mean the movie is his. In fact, the original Poem doesn’t even have Sally and Oogie Boogie. The character development + story is much more fleshed out in the film in comparison - and that’s not because of Burton. It’s because of Caroline Thompson, Danny Elfman, and Henry Selick.

“But he was busy working on his Batman film at the time!” Yes. Exactly. He entrusted Henry Selick and the rest of the crew to make Nightmare. So we should properly thank THEM, instead of making excuses for Tim. People will bend over backwards trying to find any reason to credit Burton, instead of appreciating what Henry Selick has done.

And this has been the problem for YEARS -- it may not be Tim Burton’s entire fault he got credited for The Nightmare Before Christmas as much as he did. Disney was the one who put his name in the title, purely for marketing reasons with his big name(last-minute as well, mind you). The huge misconception that he directed the movie was created by countless people falsely crediting Tim over the years.

Now the time has come with Henry’s recent release of Wendell & Wild, where the public is now realizing his hard work with Coraline, Nightmare, James & the Giant Peach, etc.....and people are still insisting on crediting Burton somewhere. Like they have been for nearly 30 years.

Henry Selick has every right to be upset that things have turned out like this. He’s gone out of his way to thank and acknowledge Tim’s contributions on the movie, but he’s been due the proper credit and fame for movies like Coraline and Nightmare. He’s finally getting the spotlight he’s always deserved, but the moment he mentions how unfair it was that Burton (albeit accidentally) got the credit for his work - people suddenly act like Tim is the victim. I’m so tired of this mentality.

Watch Wendell & Wild on Netflix. Listen to the We Know Jack Show podcast. Read this article. Give Henry Selick the love and credit he’s deserved for a long time.

646 notes - Posted November 2, 2022

#4

See the full post

862 notes - Posted September 19, 2022

#3

I know Disney has a problem with oversaturating their characters in their art, but it's especially a shame when done with The Nightmare Before Christmas.

The main character has imperfect/yellow teeth, but Jack Skellington keeps getting drawn + modeled without them most of the time. Sally has lopsided lips and auburn hair, but they're fixed and usually a bright red instead.

Which is strange to compare to their movie models...Sally is especially butchered coloring-wise.

See the full post

1,057 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#2

Friendly reminder that Disney Mirrorverse is releasing this month on the 23rd and it's making its rounds again news-wise. :)

2,465 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

45,070 notes - Posted June 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[qnewsau]

Happy 30th birthday to Priscilla, Queen of the Desert

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/happy-30th-birthday-to-priscilla-queen-of-the-desert/

Happy 30th birthday to Priscilla, Queen of the Desert

The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert is back in cinemas this week as the much-loved Australian film celebrates its 30th birthday.

In the years since its release on September 8, 1994, Priscilla has become one of the most popular and enduring Australian films of all time.

Written and directed by Stephan Elliott, the film premiered at the 1994 Cannes Film Festival, earning a standing ovation.

Executive producer Rebel Penfold-Russell and Costume designer Tim Chappel are joining RMIT University academic Stephen Gaunson for a 30th anniversary screening of Priscilla at RMIT’s The Capitol on Wednesday night.

‘Priscilla became this event everyone had to see’

Stephen Gaunson remembers just how much of a community “event” Priscilla became after its release in 1994.

“At the Longford on Toorak Road, there was a line coming out of the cinema all around the corner,” he told JOY 94.9.

“Everybody was dressed up, there was drag queens. Priscilla, Queen of the Desert became this event where everybody just needed to see this film.”

Priscilla cost less than A$3 million to make, and less than 12 months after its release, the Film Finance Corporation (FFC) of Australia made a rare announcement: they’d fully recouped their A$1.67 million investment in the film.

Costume designers Tim Chappel and Lizzy Gardiner went on to win the Academy Award for Best Costume Design.

“As far as Priscilla being an iconic Australian film, it’s those amazing costumes,” Stephen said.

“Those costumes belong in clubs in Sydney. But when you get them into the outback against that natural landscape, they just look absolutely amazing.

“This is a film that wins Best Academy Award for Best Costume. It’s not a historical film or a fantasy film, the types of films that normally win.

“This is a $3 million budgeted film. It was a cheap film. For Priscilla to get Best Costume Design at the Academy Awards is quite remarkable.”

‘They are who they are’

Stephen Gaunson said Priscilla came out in 1994, a big year for seminal Australian movies that hold up today.

“The Sum of Us was a gay film where Russell Crowe was playing a gay man with his very supportive father in Jack Thompson,” he said.

“There’s also Muriel’s Wedding, not a gay film but a gay-friendly film. All these films in 1994 did different things with Australian stereotypes and Australian masculinity.

“They’re showing a different Australia, a different Australian male and different Australian female.

“I think the audience was really connecting with that because we hadn’t really been seeing that in Australian cinema up to that point.”

Stephen said Priscilla offered queer audiences a film in which the three lead characters aren’t conflicted about their sexuality.

“They weren’t background characters. They weren’t people coming out of the closet, they are who they are,” he said.

“When they’re in drag, that’s their true selves. Other drag films before that were often heterosexual blokes dressing up as women like Some Like It Hot, hiding their true selves.”

Image: MGM

Stephen added for mainstream audiences, Priscilla gave them a glimpse at gay characters and drag queens they hadn’t seen before.

“This film seemed to tap into a mainstream market in a way that was still very poignant and meaningful,” he said.

Extensive restoration for original Priscilla bus

Earlier in the year, it was announced the long-lost original bus from the film was located. Decades on, the bus was on farmland in country New South Wales.

A specialist restoration is planned, and Priscilla was transported to Queensland. The bus is now in Brisbane in the safe hands of a specialist coachwork repairer.

Priscilla’s biggest Australian fan, drag queen Philmah Bocks, got aboard the old girl in new photos she shared to her Instagram this week.

“I distinctly remember thinking [in 1994], this film will change the face of drag in Australia,” Philmah explained earlier this year.

“The whole taboo of going to a drag club was quite big throughout the early 90s. All of a sudden, we were projected onto big screens and then small screens.

“People finally understood the humanity behind being a drag queen. I think that was the big shift in people’s perspectives.”

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Philmah Bocks (@philmahbocks)

Priscilla sequel is in development

Director Stephan Elliott confirmed earlier this year, that a Priscilla sequel was in development with the original cast.

Stephen said in an era of drag bans and Trumpian politics, now was the “perfect” time for a Priscilla sequel.

“You have to remember that Tick had a kid, now that kid has grown up and he’s got his own family,” Stephan told The Guardian.

“I don’t want to repeat myself, so it’s taken me a long while to come up with something… There’s something that needs to be said about tolerance.”

Read more:

How the original Priscilla bus was found in country New South Wales

Guy Pearce weighs in on Priscilla Queen of the Desert sequel

Priscilla Queen of the Desert almost had very different cast

��They booed’: Stephan Elliott recalls horror first Priscilla screening

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[captainsophiestark]

Daniel Sousa Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

Main Masterlist

X - x reader F - Female Reader (otherwise it’s gender neutral) ☀️ - Fluff ✨ - Humor ☁️ - Angst ⭐️ - Author Faves

Newest fics will be at the bottom

Plan B - F!X ☀️✨⭐️ Reader is a friend of Peggy’s who’s been on the team at the SSR for a few months. She hasn’t really bonded with any of the men at the agency, except Thompson, who’s her stupid hotshot mission plan buddy. She also spends a fair amount of time with Daniel, but reader hasn’t gotten to bond with Agent Sousa as much. That might change drastically when the four go out on a mission to try and recover some more of Howard’s stolen tech.

Black Coffee - X ☀️ Reader’s working at a coffee house, and they see plenty of people come in looking exhausted and searching for some caffeine to help. When a new face comes into the coffee shop, he manages to break the all-time record for the person closest to being an absolute zombie. Daniel Sousa’s been working day and night on a case for the SSR, and he’s in danger of falling asleep if he so much as stops moving. But, if he can make it through to the end of the case, it might just turn out to be worth it in more ways than one.

Assistant - F!X ☀️ Y/N is Howard Stark’s assistant, which is never a boring job. They’re in the middle of tearing their hair out trying to manage his crazy schedule when a surprise visit from a certain SSR agent shakes up their day.

New Office - X ☀️ Y/N’s been in love with their best friend Daniel Sousa since they both started working at the SSR, but he’s been hung up on Peggy since the first time he saw her. Now, however, Peggy’s turned him down for a date and he’s gone all the way across the country with a promotion to get some distance from her. Y/N went with him, but will it mean a change in anything more than location for the two of them?

West vs. East - X ☀️✨ Y/N is the LA SSR’s new nurse, a position they finally realized was incredibly important to have around after a few near-misses during the Whitney Frost case. They’ve only been there a week, but an all-SSR picnic and “friendly” East Coast/West Coast competition will give them plenty of chances to make new friends and more.

Sandy and Charlie - F!X ☀️✨ Y/N is starring in her first big picture, a Western produced by Howard Stark. When the actor playing her love interest no-shows, however, they’re going to have to get creative in finding a person to fill the role so the movie can be finished. Fortunately for them, the SSR needs Howard’s help on a case, and are willing to make some deals to get it.

The Unholy Alliance - X ☀️✨ Daniel and Y/N have been staring at each other longingly for months, and Jack and Peggy are tired of it. So, in a moment of history in the making, the two *team up* to find a way to get their coworkers to finally realize their feelings for each other.

No Way To Know For Sure - Part 1 Part 2 - F!X ☁️☀️✨ After a few months of friendship and a few more months of dating, Y/N and Daniel Sousa decided to call it quits when he moved out to LA to open the West Coast SSR. She was focused on her career with no desire to leave New York, her home, the place she had connections and established respect as a female SSR agent, the greatest city in the world. Daniel couldn’t turn down the promotion, and she didn’t want him to. So they parted ways, Y/N telling herself it didn’t hurt. But when Jack sends her out to LA to work with Daniel on a case, she realizes she is definitely not over him.

Date Night - F!X ☀️✨ Y/N and Daniel are ready to relax and listen to their favorite radio program together after a long week at the SSR. Unfortunately for both of them, Y/N’s older brother Jack Thompson has the spare key to the apartment, and he has a history of picking terrible times to drop in on his little sister.

Office Most-Eligible - F!X ☀️✨ When Jack ropes Daniel into eavesdropping on the telephone ladies’ breakroom, they both might hear a lot more than they’d bargained for.

The Ugliest Tie I’ve Ever Seen - X ☀️✨ Y/N has finally been transferred to LA, joining their boyfriend Daniel Sousa to help with a case. Unfortunately, he's picked up some new fashion in LA.

Drinks With Peggy - X ☁️☀️ Daniel's S/O came out of a program like Dottie's, so they're still learning how to be in a relationship and communicate with the people who matter.

[ao3feed-steggy]

Skating Into A Fake Marriage

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/BOWstbu by CaptainJimothyCarter Steve isn’t sure why he even took a job that involved serving people food on skates when he can’t skate to save his life. At least it involves him meeting Peggy who might’ve told his boss that she’s his wife when he’s never met her before. Words: 2018, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 123 of Tumblr Prompts Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Agent Carter (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, Jack Thompson (Marvel) Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Not Jack Thompson Friendly (Marvel), Meet-Cute, meet ugly, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Awesome Peggy Carter, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Skating, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/BOWstbu

[mica-dmss]

Blog Post - 05

Heroes, Villains, and the Reformation of Narrative.

In the general scope of narrative, we always have had clarity of what outcomes to expect. Through the perspective of our hero, we expect a transformation into someone stronger than what they once were. We look to see their goals accomplished, and their happy ending rewarded. In some narratives, we may also look forward to a schadenfreude outcome, reserved for villains that we eagerly await the downfalls of. These are common tropes of which we have grown up with and usually expect from the conventions of narrative, as it brings us overall satisfaction; Bordwell and Thompson (2016) points out how all these principles "allow a story to arouse and fulfil our expectations" (Bordwell, Thompson and Smith, 2016, p. 49).

In contrast to my previous essay blogpost, here I will be showing modern examples of a more refreshing approach to the oppositions between hero and villain, using studio Dreamworks' products as my examples to argue with Propp's functions; Shrek (2001) and Megamind (2010). Minor exploration into other sources will also be included. In this blog post, I plan to uncover the story dynamic between heroic and villainous traits in film, and why in some instances they are not as opposite as they are depicted to be.

Point 1: A hideous monster - as a hero?

In countless fairy tales, readers perceive a hero as a visible representation of might and inner good; a strong and handsome man. They stand out in their battles against their foes, obstacles portrayed as monstrous beasts. The standards set within tradition allows a model for viewers to look up to. Out of all the characters in the fictional, it is the hero who we resonate the most with. Additionally, everything that transpires within the story is through his lenses, which enables viewers to connect with him further - to inspire, comfort and guide us.

Much of media has continued to practice this within the 21st century - films, TV shows, and even games. One example of a series, Samurai Jack (2001-2017), maintained the strong opposition of portrayal between hero Jack and villain Aku. Despite the extensive worldbuilding of Samurai Jack overtime, the basis of enmity between Jack and Aku has remained stark; white and black, good against evil, man versus monster, and so on (Figure 1).

Figure 1

Highlighted by folklorist Vladimir Propp (1984), ethnologist Claude Lévi - Strauss developed a theory of structuralism within narrative, which he referred to as 'binary oppositions'. Lévi - Strauss claims how binary functions are complimentary within narrative and should be "reduced to one", Propp argues that such functions are likely split "between different people" - being the hero and the villain (Propp et al., 1984, p. 75). Propp explains this by stating examples of binary tasks, such as how one character 'imposes' a difficult task, while the other resolves it (Ibid. p. 75). While it can be argued that Lévi - Strauss' binary analysis could sum up the entirety of a narrative as a structure of itself, Propp was concerned that such assumption would be misleading, due to the apparent fact that binary actions among characters have mainly been separate (Ibid. p. 75).

Nonetheless, Propp acknowledged Lévi - Strauss' examination in discovering the deterministic traits within narrative consisting a "network of pluses and minuses". (Ibid. p. xli) This is a likely explanation as to why Aku and Jack's clashing relationship offered a balanced plot. Overall, the structure of narrative that is dependent on the dynamics between hero and villain seems to cement the impression from viewers of a formula that should be followed accordingly.

However, binary oppositions had freeform within its rules, which has led to unique outcomes regarding narrative. In 2001, animation studio DreamWorks released a family-friendly comedy film titled Shrek, the first of its soon established franchise. The story features not a predictably handsome man as its protagonist, but an ogre hiding deep within the woods (figure 1). Shrek, a name derived of German noun Schreck for 'terror', is the name for our unlikely hero of this series. His name holds true, as he is considered a terror among the people of his universe; the villagers are petrified of him and the Kingdom of his land want him dead.

Figure 1

The reception of Shrek during the time of its release was unexpected. For a concept revolving around a monster hero fighting against an evil king and rescuing the princess who, also represents a monster, was likely an intriguing tale to see pan out in the 2000s. Like all major releases, Shrek implements pre-established cinematic codes to its plot; Professor Emerita Pam Cook (1985) refers to Noel Burch's (1973) popular model of Institutional Mode of Representation (IMR), which she elaborates its significance in identifying "conventions of mise-en-scene" within film, by means of how a narrative's "space and time" are set up and how its characters "individuated in ways which both engage, and are imperceptible to, the spectator" (Cook, 1985, p. 39). However, the establishment of IMR in film is likely due to to the correspondence to 'cultural ascendancy' within narratology, of which was already determined by formulaic codes examined from folklore history (Ibid. p. 39).

So, how come a "big, stupid, ugly ogre" (Shrek, 2001) is supposedly the assigned hero of the film's narrative? Film critics were quickly able to decipher this and find out how there is more to Shrek and it's unexpected plot. Currently, Shrek is considered a highly rated film on popular review site 'Rotten Tomatoes', with a rating of 88% on its 'tomatometer'. (rottentomatoes, n.d.). The overall critics consensus for this film is as follows: "while simultaneously embracing and subverting fairy tales, the irreverent Shrek also manages to tweak Disney's nose, provide a moral message to children, and offer viewers a funny, fast-paced ride." (Ibid. n.d.) It was obvious of the purpose behind the plot of Shrek entailed, which most film critics gave it high appraise for its bold storytelling outside the usual traditions of narrative. Thus, Shrek is recognised to be one of the few films that went against the grains of normalcy within narrative conventions.

Moreover, another film of DreamWorks that is argued to be one of its best releases is the second instalment of the Shrek franchise, Shrek 2 (2004), which further delves into the aspects of narrative archetypes within traditional fairy tale. In this sequel, Shrek and his companions discover potions manufactured by the story's main antagonist, the Fairy Godmother. They steal a particular potion possessing the ability to transform characters into a reversed identity of themselves. From it, Shrek obtains an easily swayable image of a handsome man, while his friend Donkey turns into a full on stallion (figure 2 and 3).

Figure 2

Figure 3

This element, labelled as the 'Happily Ever After' potion, relates to the powers of a typical fairy godmother when transforming characters into positively reinforced images within folklore. However, it is always temporary. This leads to an overarching reflection within the film's plot; despite the supposed role of a hero, Shrek is not recognised as one, as he is rejected by his princess lovers' parents, as well as feared by the majority in his universe; Much like the first film, he is treated like a villain rather than a hero. Furthermore, Shrek 2 makes a crucial point in changing the stereotypes of archetypes and challenging aspects that are held to their titles - Shrek is not the only character to break out of narrative stereotypes. The deuteragonist, Princess Fiona, is not a typical princess, due to her nightly curse of becoming an ogre (Figure 4 and 5). The film's Fairy Godmother is the false hero and revealed main antagonist of the film, posing as an obstacle to Shrek becoming recognised as a hero and stopping his aspiration of marrying Fiona (Figure 6).

Figure 4

Figure 5

Figure 6

Despite the change of portrayal within films such as Shrek, it can be argued that the only aspect that has been altered in narrative is the appeal of their characters, as the structure is essentially the same as any other fairy tale. Regardless of the alignment of characters within a narrative, Propp highlighted that functions will always represent "an act of a character", in relation to their significance in progressing into the next course of action; "functions of characters serve as a stable, constant elements in a tale, independent of how and by whom they are fulfilled" (Propp et al., 1968, p. 21). Furthermore, DreamWorks had later produced another filmic release that would closely interact with the theories Propp had provided in his papers, and challenge them (Figure 7).

Figure 7

Megamind (2010) features an initial villain supposedly successful in 'killing' the hero of his universe, presenting an alternative structure of the 'lack' that would have been presented as cueing in the hero of the story, not following their defeat. In fact, Propp's narrative functions imply that the hero 'must' always prevail, and that the villain's defeat is certain; "XVIII. The villain is defeated" (Ibid. p. 53) In this film, supervillain Megamind feels unmotivated living life after having defeated his enemy Metro Man, and to reinvigorate the dynamic in Metro City once more, Megamind attempted to create a new hero who ended up becoming a villain. This push in the film's narrative forces Megamind to adapt to a new role, which eventually reveals that he is the 'true' hero of the story.

This story of Megamind was capable in addressing the rigid methods of storytelling found within Propp's investigation, primarily the fact of Propp's functions cementing a "predictable, formulaic way of storytelling" (1975, cited in Propp, 1984, p. 38). The experimentation found within Megamind not only concerns the dynamic between archetypes, but also how narrative functions could be portrayed different than the usual formula of storytelling derived from folk tale.

Both Shrek and Megamind make a point in specifying how narrative events are not formed by implications of archetype presentations, but rather explicit actions caused by characters of any type. There is only so much functions can do in explaining certain texts, though that does not mean the material can be predicted. Propp makes this claim stating that while similar functions may lead to "rise of similar manifestations", it does not inherently influence material, which he describes is "not dead matter" (Propp et al., 1984, p. 69) Thus, the success of functions in predicting the materials' direction is merely "only a possibility" (Ibid. p. 69).

Sources:

Bordwell, D., Thompson, K. and Smith, J. (2016) Film art: an introduction. Eleventh; McGraw-Hill international; Place of publication not identified: McGraw-Hill Education.

Cook, P. and Bernink, M. (1999) The cinema book. 2nd edn. London: British Film Institute.

Megamind (2010) Directed by T. McGrath. [Feature film]. Hollywood, CA: Paramount Pictures.

Propp, V., Martin, A.Y., Martin, R.P. and Corporation, E. (1984) Theory and History of Folklore. N - New; 1; Edited by A. Liberman. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Propp, V., Scott, L. and Wagner, L.A. (1968) Morphology of the Folktale. 2nd edn. Austin: University of Texas Press.

Samurai Jack (2001) Cartoon Network, 10 August, 23:00.

Shrek (2001) Directed by A. Adamson. [Feature film]. Universal City, CA: DreamWorks Pictures.

Shrek 2 (2004) Directed by A. Adamson. [Feature film]. Universal City, CA: DreamWorks Pictures.

[mcgiggers]

New York - September 2023

Just back from a long-anticipated return to Armory week festivities in the Big Apple. Fueled by the pent-up excitement following a self-imposed two-year hiatus and not deterred by the sweltering heat and overcrowded New York streets, the art viewing experience was over the top - fantastic fairs, surreal MoMA moments and great gallery shows. Stopovers included: The Armory Show, Independent 20th Century and Art on Paper fairs; a pilgrimage to the MoMA; and a half dozen or so gallery visits.

The Fairs

The Armory Show held court as the centerpiece of the two-day jaunt. While the fair has long been part of the city’s cultural landscape, bringing together the world’s leading contemporary and modern galleries in the revamped Javits Center elevated the fair-going experience for all stakeholders. Art fans, exhibitors and artists have all benefited from the move two years ago from Piers 92 and 94. While the art is ultimately what matters most, venue counts as well, and creating an atmosphere where art fans can best appreciate wonderful pieces and exhibitors can best showcase their artists is important. With its outstanding gallery lineup, topnotch presentation space and user-friendly layout, The Armory Show delivered on all fronts.

This year the fair assembled over 225 leading international galleries representing more than 35 countries and over 800 artists. Along with the revitalization brought about by the venue upgrade, the show’s focus has also evolved to having a more contemporary and emerging artist bias where previously older post war painters also shared the spotlight. With that change, the crowds also seemed to get younger, less staid, and more eclectic, all making for a vibrant and exciting ambiance.  Some highlights included: Landon Metz’s organic flowing shapes in “Untitled”, 2023, dye and canvas, diptych (40 x 64 in.); Mario Martinez’s abstract expressionist inspired “Inside, Outside”, 2004, acrylic and charcoal on canvas (86 x 133.5 in.); and Nicole Coson’s imprinted found objects in “Untitled”, 2023, oil on linen (79 x 51 in.).

The vibe at the Independent 20th Century fair was more reflective and subdued but also enjoyable in a different sort of way. Set in the historic Battery Maritime Building, the focus of this 35-exhibitor show was to celebrate unsung artists that applied their trade between 1900 and 2000. Donning the walls were works of lesser known heroes such as Jack Tworkov, James Brooks and Midred Thompson, among others. The fair highlights included three large scale works from Paul Feeley featuring his archetypal jack-like forms set in a colour field backdrop, namely, “Vespasian” and “Germanicus”, 1960, and “Untitled”, 1961, each oil-based enamel on canvas.

Art on Paper was staged on the courts of Basketball City on Pier 36 and celebrated its ninth edition with a 100-plus gallery roster featuring top modern and contemporary paper-based art. The atmosphere was light and lively and lent itself well to the creatively used to highlight the fair’s signature medium. Highlights included: Eric Stefanski’s earnest and satirical “Im Fuckin Trying”, 2023, oil and graphite on paper affixed to panel in artist’s frame (44 x 34 in.); Gigi Mills’ “Night Sail and Shephard”, 2023, oil, paper and crayon on paper (43.5 x 38 in.); and Alyssa Salomon’s “Time & Place for Considering Optimism & Sunlight”, 2020, cyanotype on Abaca/Kozo paper (38 x 25 in.).  A showstopper also included a collection of six exquisite Michael Loew cubist nudes, 1951, india ink on paper on board (each 9 x 6 in.).

The Museum

The MoMA experience kicked off with early morning access tothe Ed Ruscha / Now Then exhibit. The show surveyed six decades of output and featured over 200 works in mediums including painting, drawing and photography. Peppered throughout were many of his easily recognizable images mined from Los Angeles iconography such as the Hollywood sign, Standard Oil stations and the Twentieth Century Fox logo. Equally impactful were the word paintings reflective of guttural utterances he came across in his day-to-day activities. Special pieces among these included: “Honk”, 1961-62, oil on canvas and “Oof”, 1962, oil on canvas.

The Ruscha exhibit then flowed into a pilgrimage to several extraordinary works in the MoMA permanent collection. These included: Andy Warhol’s “Campbell’s Soup Cans”, 1962, acrylic with metallic enamel paint on canvas, 32 panels; Jasper Johns’ “Flag”, 1954-55, encaustic, oil and collage on fabric mounted on plywood, three panels; Jackson Pollock’s “One: Number 31, 1950”, 1950, oil and enamel paint on canvas;  Henri Matisse’s “The Red Studio”, 1911, oil on canvas; Pablo Picasso’s  “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon”, 1907, oil on canvas; and, Vincent van Gogh’s “The Starry Night”, 1889, oil on canvas. While these works are all very familiar and are plastered on everything from mugs to T-shirts, a firsthand visual of their mastery is a magical reboot and a reminder of their greatness.

The Galleries

Memorable gallery exhibits visited outside the fair circuit included: John Zurier “On the Back of a Mirror”; Caroline Monnet “Worksite” and Ellsworth Kelly “Ellsworth Kelly at Gemini: An Exploration of Color”. Standouts among these included: John Zurier’s dreamy “Langspil(Echo)”, 2023, oil on linen (25.6 x 19.6 in.); Caroline Monnet’s biological experiment “Depredation”, 2023,  mold on gypsum board, 15 parts (each 13 x 13 in.) and powerful “In Silence We Speak Volumes”, 2023, oriented strand board, acrylic (47 x 47 in.); and Ellsworth Kelly’s stunning “Red Curve (State ll)”, 1988, 1-color lithograph, edition of 15, #3 (26 x 84 in.).

While art fans were scurrying about to the various venues sharing the New York City stage with sportsfans who were in town to witness Coco Gauff’s crowning achievement, on the other side of the world in the Philippines, hoopsters were being treated to a different brand of basketball at the FIBA World Cup, the toughest albeit not glitziest of international hoops tournaments. When all was said and done, the gold medal went to Germany who outlasted Serbia in the finals while Canada upset the USA in an overtime thriller for the bronze. That was a historic finish for Canada on the FIBA world stage and a major disappointment for the USA who fielded an all-NBA team - true, maybe not the best of the lot and three players were out with an undisclosed illness (bad pancit, maybe), but still, a great victory for Canada thanks to standout performances from Shai Gilgeous-Alexander who was named to the All-Tournament team and bronze medal game MVP NBA villain par excellence Dillon Brooks. Another huge positive stemming from the tournament was the show put on by Dennis Schröder who led the German team to the top podium finish. The speedy and crafty guard was named FIBA World Cup MVP and will be bringing his talents to Toronto. Let’s hope Flash can carry over his success to the Dinos as he steps into the prime ball handler role vacated by Steady Freddie’s departure. Something to look forward to.

For more information on any of the artists or works mentioned, the MoMA, the gallery exhibits and Schröder’s transition to the Dinos, “Just Google It”.

There you have it sportsfans,

MC Giggers

(www.mcgiggers.tumblr.com) Reporter’s Certification

I, MC Giggers, hereby certify that the views expressed in this report accurately reflect my personal views and that no part of my compensation was or will be, directly or indirectly, related to the specific views expressed herein.

I also certify that I may or may not own, directly or indirectly, works of artists mentioned in this report and that I may or may not have a strong bias for such artists and, more generally, for “Pictures of Nothing”.

[honeyleesblog]

July 3 Zodiac - Full Horoscope Personality

They are described by a decent memory and their way of behaving is a bit shaky, dependent upon future developments; all things considered, they are very dedicated individuals and are glad to set out on trips. They are dynamic, restless and rash. They ordinarily have incredible intrinsic creative capacities. In each snapshot of their life they trust and are confident, however they are bad at chipping away at their own. They are exceptionally aggressive, yet frequently miss the mark on right insight and tact. Friendly, merry: they like the imaginative propensities of youngsters, diversion and display, as well as they are keen on all that is lovely and they have a decent ear for music. They appreciate fishing and life submerged. Nonetheless, they might be in peril during the far off ocean journeys that they might be compelled to make. Positive hypotheses might permit them to create a gain, and destiny will frequently assist them with a fortunate turn of events. They need to accomplish acknowledgment, even acclaim. They show extraordinary hardheadedness and consistency in their battles regardless of their variable person. They protect the interests of their youngsters and family with specific fierceness. They might want to do anything they desire, they could do without to be controlled. What undermines them? That they won't generally find lasting success in their undertakings, they will experience surprising impediments, they will risk a profound defer in the acknowledgment of their arrangements. Their bodies are not areas of strength for especially, huge exertion generally endangers them of fatigue. By then, your stomach experiences the most, particularly from conditions of fear, disarray or anxious aggravation. Potential illnesses incorporate stomach related problems, ailment, and unfortunate blood dissemination. July 3 Zodiac - Full Horoscope Personality

  In the event that your birthday is on July 3, your zodiac sign is Disease July 3 - character and character character: liberal, keen, brilliant, weak, intolerant, haughty calling: glazier, ophthalmologist, colors: orange, yellow, sky blue stone: diopside creature: lion plant: foxglove fortunate numbers: 4,14,28,31,47,48 very fortunate number: 22 Occasions and Observances - July 3 Argentina: Host's Day (Broadcaster's Day). Argentina: Bioengineer's Day. July 3 Superstar Birthday. Who was conceived that very day as you? 1900: Alessandro Blasetti, Italian producer (d. 1987). 1900: Miguel Rostaing La Torre, Peruvian soccer player (d. 1983). 1901: Julio Martდ­nez Oyanguren, Uruguayan guitarist (d. 1973). 1901 - Ruth Crawford Seeger, American writer (d. 1953). 1905: Clorinda Mდ¡laga de Prado, First Woman of Peru (d. 1993). 1906: Jack Earle, American entertainer (d. 1952). 1906: Alberto Lleras Camargo, Colombian columnist and legislator (d. 1990). 1906: George Sanders, English entertainer (d. 1972). 1906: Florence Gwendolen Rees, Welsh zoologist and parasitologist (f. 1994) 1908: Hდ©ctor Croxatto, Chilean researcher (f. 2010). 1913: Dorothy Kilgallen, American columnist, entertainer and essayist (d. 1965). 1914: Antonio Colino Lდ³pez, Spanish architect and scholastic (d. 2008). 1914: Joaquდ­n A. Gonzდ¡lez, Mexican tenor and stone carver (f. 1999). 1914: Joan Vinyoli, Spanish artist (d. 1984). 1915: Carlos Garcდ­a Cuervas, Argentine military man (d. 1971). 1916: John Kundla, American b-ball player. 1917: Joao Saldanha, Brazilian soccer mentor (d. 1990). 1918: Benjamin C. Thompson, American modeler (d. 2002). 1919: Irajდ¡ Damiani Pinto, Brazilian scientist. 1919: დ"scar Quinones, Peruvian painter and stone carver (d. 1987). 1919: Gabriel Valdდ©s, Chilean legal counselor and government official (d. 2011). 1920: Gaby, Spanish comedian (f. 1995). 1920: Julio Oyhanarte, Argentine legal counselor and government official (d. 1997). 1921: Jorge Boudon, Chilean entertainer and humorist (d. 2007). 1921: Susan Peters, American entertainer (d. 1952). 1922: Guillaume Cornelis van Beverloo, Belgian painter (d. 2010). 1922: Gastდ³n Pons Muzzo, Peruvian scientific expert (d. 2004). 1922: Howie Schultz, American b-ball player (d. 2009). 1924: Amalia Aguilar, Cuban entertainer. 1924: SR Nathan, Singaporean lawmaker. 1924: დ?ngel Tavira, Mexican author and musician (d. 2008). 1925: Nდ©ffer Krდ¶ger, Uruguayan musicologist and show entertainer (f. 1996). 1925: Josდ© Vento Ruiz, Spanish painter (f. 2005). 1926: Vladimir Bogomolov, Soviet author (d. 2003). 1927: Juan Antonio Flores Santana, Dominican Ecclesiastical overseer (d. 2014). 1927: Balivada Kantha Rao, Telugu author (d. 2000). 1927: Tim O'Connor, American entertainer. 1927: Ken Russell, English movie producer (d. 2011). 1928: Rafael St Nick Cruz, Peruvian matador (d. 1991). 1930: Kinji Fukasaku, Japanese movie producer (d. 2003). 1930: Carlos Kleiber, German guide and performer (d. 2004). 1930: Eloy Ybდ¡nez Bueno, Spanish ambassador. 1931: Luciano Comaschi, Italian footballer. 1932: Richard Mellon Scaife, American money manager. 1934: Ricardo Barrios Arrechea, Argentine specialist and lawmaker. 1935: Harrison Schmitt, American space traveler and government official. 1935: Cheo Feliciano, Puerto Rican vocalist and musician. 1935: Josდ© Antonio Spirits Erlich, Salvadoran lawmaker. 1936: Luis Aranda, Argentine entertainer (d. 2012). 1936: Jerდ³nimo Saavedra, Spanish lawmaker. 1937: Tom Stoppard, English dramatist of Czech beginning. 1938: Horacio Aguirre, Argentine author (d. 1992). 1938: Sjaak Swart, Dutch footballer. 1939: Brigitte Fassbaender, German guide and soprano. 1939: Lდ¡szlდ³ Kovდ¡cs, Hungarian lawmaker. 1939: Angelo Benedicto Sormani, Brazilian soccer player. 1940: Lamar Alexander, American lawmaker. 1940: Fontella Bass, American vocalist musician (d. 2012). 1940: Jerzy Buzek, Clean lawmaker. 1940: Companion Raben, German writer (d. 2007). 1940: Cდ©sar Tovar, Venezuelan baseball player. 1941: Joao Alves Filho, Brazilian lawmaker. 1941: Liamine Zდ©roual, Argentine military and lawmaker. 1941: Judith H. Myers, Canadian scholar and scientist 1942: Didar Sandhu, Hindu performer (d. 1991). 1942: Paco Stanley, Mexican TV have (d. 1999). 1943: Susana Alexander, Mexican entertainer. 1943: Kurtwood Smith, American entertainer. 1944: Silvio Caiozzi, Chilean movie producer. 1944: Michel Polnareff, French performer. 1945: Miguel Cestau, Spanish pelotari. 1945: Gualberto Garcდ­a, Spanish performer. 1945: Michael Martin, Noble Martin of Springburn, English legislator. 1945: Saharon Shelah, Israeli mathematician. 1946: Alberto Breccia Guzzo, Uruguayan lawmaker. 1946: John Klemmer, American saxophonist and author. 1946: Leszek Mill operator, Clean lawmaker. 1946: Carlos Alberto Riccelli, Brazilian entertainer and movie producer. 1946: Bolo Yeung, Hong Kong entertainer. 1947: Dave Barry, American author. 1947: Betty Buckley, American entertainer. 1947: Loot Rensenbrink, Dutch footballer. 1947: Ernesto Bondy Reyes, Honduran author. 1948: Luis Martდ­nez Noval, Spanish lawmaker. 1948: Ken Mangroelal, Surinamese author. 1949: Ignacio Almada Straight, Mexican history specialist. 1949: Rodolfo Codina, Chilean chief of naval operations. 1949: Jacinto Gდ³mez, Peruvian lawmaker. 1949: Masato Harada, Japanese entertainer and movie producer. 1949: Luz Salgado, Peruvian lawmaker. 1949: Jan Smithers, American entertainer. 1949: Bo Xilai, Chinese lawmaker. 1950: James Hahn, American lawmaker. 1951: Jean-Claude Duvalier, Haitian despot and slaughter. 1952: Marდ­a Cardinal, Mexican entertainer. 1952: Andy Fraser, English vocalist, lyricist and bassist, of the band John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers (d. 2015). 1952: Rohinton Mistry, Indian author. 1952: Hugo Moraga, Chilean performer. 1953: Enthusiasm Munnდ©, Spanish entertainer. 1954: John Jaakke, Dutch games administrator. 1954: Susana Rotker, Venezuelan author and writer (d. 2000). 1955: Bruce Altman, American entertainer. 1955: Walter Veltroni, Italian lawmaker. 1956: Loreto Valenzuela, Chilean entertainer. 1957: Laura Branigan, American vocalist (f. 2004). 1957: Miguel del Sel, Argentine comedian and lawmaker. 1958: დ?ngel Acebes, Spanish lawmaker. 1958: Agustდ­n Cuesta, Spanish b-ball player. 1958: Juan Antonio Larranaga, Spanish footballer. 1958: Rick Sდ¡nchez, Cuban-American TV moderator. 1958: Aaron Tippin, American vocalist, lyricist, guitarist and maker. 1959: Josდ© Baselga, Spanish doctor. 1959: Semilla Bucciarelli, Argentine bassist, of the band Patricio Rey y sus Redonditos de Ricota. 1959: Ian Maxtone-Graham, American screenwriter and maker. 1959: Andrდ©s Albo Mდ¡rquez, Mexican lawmaker. 1959: Stephen Pearcy, American vocalist, of the band Ratt. 1959: David Shore, Canadian author and maker. 1960: Vince Clarke, vocalist, lyricist and English keyboardist, of the band Depeche Mode. 1960: Jorge Coke Contreras, Chilean soccer player. 1960: Josu Erkoreka, Spanish lawmaker. 1960: Perrine Pelen, French skier. 1960: Ricardo Perdomo, Uruguayan soccer player and mentor. 1961: Josდ© Antonio Sobrino, Spanish physicist. 1962: Tom Voyage, American entertainer. 1962: Thomas Gibson, American entertainer. 1963: Tracey Emin, English painter and picture taker. 1964: Mario Pergolini, Argentine radio and TV host and maker. 1964: Tom Curren, American surfer. 1964: Toshiharu Sakurai, Japanese voice entertainer. 1964: Yeardley Smith, American voice entertainer, vocalist and maker. 1965: Tommy Flanagan, Scottish entertainer. 1965: Shinya Hashimoto, Japanese grappler (d. 2005). 1965: Connie Nielsen, Danish entertainer. 1966: Moisდ©s Alou, Dominican baseball player. 1966: Pablo Domდ­nguez Prieto, Spanish cleric and scholar (f. 2009). 1966: Daniel Court, Spanish competitor. 1967: Vladan Alanoviე‡, Croatian b-ball player. 1967: Henry Ariel Lდ³pez Bდ¡ez, Uruguayan soccer player. 1967: David Macpherson, Australian tennis player. 1968: Ramush Haradinaj, Kosovar legislator and military man. 1968: Josდ© Manuel Villegas, Spanish legislator. 1969: Gedeon Burkhard, German entertainer. 1970: Serhiy Honchar, Ukrainian cyclist. 1970: David Court, Spanish cyclist. 1970: Teemu Selდ¤nne, Finnish ice hockey player. 1970: Shawnee Smith, American entertainer. 1971: Claudia Acuna, Chilean vocalist. 1971: Julian Assange, representative and proofreader of the WikiLeaks

[ao3feed-danielsousa]

West vs. East

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/0LhVrK8

by CaptainSophieStark

Written for Agent Carter Bingo on Tumblr!

Square Filled: Game

Summary: Y/N is the LA SSR's new nurse, a position they finally realized was incredibly important to have around after a few near-misses during the Whitney Frost case. They've only been there a week, but an all-SSR picnic and "friendly" East Coast/West Coast competition will give them plenty of chances to make new friends and more.

Words: 2440, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Agent Carter (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Other

Characters: Daniel Sousa, Rose Roberts, Peggy Carter, Jack Thompson (Marvel)

Relationships: Daniel Sousa/Reader, Peggy Carter & Daniel Sousa & Jack Thompson & Reader, Rose Roberts & Daniel Sousa & Reader

Additional Tags: Fluff, Humor, Fluff and Humor

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/0LhVrK8