hangrid fandom: lol were confirmed
melix fandom: yeah guys were married
the phandom: ^^same homos 4 lyfe
danrific fandom: GUYS NO HES STRAIGHT
tronnor fandom: ^ no one is straight on the Internet
troyler fandom: WRONG GAYS TROYLER HAVE KISSED TRONNOR IS SO NOT REAL
*hartbig fandom left the conversation*
tronnor fandom: rlly
the phandom: literally no homo my ass
danrific fandom: guys you’re pissing me off cat and Dan love eachother.
*danrific fandom left the conversation*
the phandom: thank god
grester fandom: I mean we’re old but gold right
janiel fandom: ^gross straight ppl
tronnor fandom: ^
the phandom: ^^^!!! LOLZOR
hangrid fandom: lez 4 lyfe tho
melix fandom: omg sorry guys I was in Greece
melix fandom: brb straight is gr8
janiel fandom: omg no.. but soz guys lol I have to go film a music vid byeee!!
*janiel fandom has left the conversation*
the phandom: yeah I gotta go on tour mates byee
*the phandom has left the conversation*
troyler fandom: lol why is everyone so busy
tronnor fandom: HAHA ITS BC UR FAVS DONT EVEN HAMGOUT ANYMORE GTG LISTEN TO WILD AND SNUGGLE
*tronnor fandom left the conversation*
*troyler fandom left the conversation*
hangrid fandom: SO MANY STRAIGHT PPL EWWWW
*hangrid fandom left the conversation*
grester fandom: oh
Built to honor the 16th president of the United States of America, The Lincoln Memorial is located across from the Washington Monument. The building resembles a Greek Doric temple, and contains a large seated sculpture of Abraham Lincoln, which was designed by Daniel Chester French.
The walls of the memorial feature inscriptions from two of Lincolns most famous speeches, “The Gettysburg Address”, and his second inaugural speech. The site itself has been the location for many famous speeches, such as Martin Luther King Jr’s famous “I Have A Dream” speech.
“Since this has become popular, the two boys that made the video, Daniel and then Josh have received an incredible amount of notoriety in the media but also some negative things have happened to them…”
The Lincoln Memorial was dedicated on 30 May 1922. The architect was Henry Bacon, and Daniel Chester French was the sculptor of the statue of Lincoln.
It took 8 years to build (was completed on schedule), and William Howard Taft (who had been President when the memorial was approved and was now Chief Justice of the Supreme Court) presented the completed memorial to President Warren G. Harding, who accepted on behalf of the American people.
I’ve gotten A LOT of requests for Peggysous pregnancy fluff. The bulk of this one was written while waiting for my new nephew (born June 8 at 9:07 p.m., 6 pounds 9 ounces, 19 inches long, mother and baby doing fine!) to arrive.
“You’re sure you’ll be all right?” Daniel asks anxiously, his grip so tight on his crutch his knuckles are starting to turn white. “Because if you need me to come home for any reason, you know you can - ”
“Daniel,” Peggy interrupts, “go to work. I’ll call the office if I need you.” Daniel gives her an expectant look. Peggy rolls her eyes. “If we need you,” she corrects. “Which we won’t.”
“Let’s hope not,” says Daniel, hand sliding off her swollen belly.
Peggy hums. “You don’t want to be late.” Not for your first day, she thinks grimly.
Daniel checks the time. “OK, OK,” he mutters, leaning in for a quick kiss. Given Peggy’s current condition, however, the closest he can get is her cheek. He smiles sheepishly.
Soon as he’s gone, Peggy breathes, “Oh thank God,” and sinks into the nearest chair, which came with the apartment and seems more suited to an ice cream parlor. It gives a little wobble as she kicks out her feet. Peggy loves her husband, but after a weekend of Daniel’s fretting, she can’t say she’s sorry to see him head to the office. Even if it’s to the New York SSR. Even if it’s technically a demotion.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Who could - ” Peggy says, bracing her aching back with one hand as she hauls herself out of the chair. She thinks about her gun, back in their bedroom, as she waddles to the door. She tries peering out the peephole, but it’s just not possible with her belly the size it is.
There’s another knock, more insistent. “C’mon, Carter,” calls a familiar voice, though not one Peggy’s heard in years, “it’s me. Open - oh hell,” swears Chester Phillips as she cracks the door. “They told me you were pregnant, but they didn’t say you could give birth at any minute.”
“Not any - ” Peggy starts, but the man has a point. “Colonel Phillips.”
He’s already pushed his way through the door. “Agent Carter,” he says, surveying the tiny kitchen, which takes all of three seconds. He looks at her sternly. “Isn’t that your cue to tell me it’s no longer Carter?”
“No longer ‘Agent,’ actually,” Peggy quips, as she’d been summarily fired when top brass found out she was pregnant. Within a month, Daniel’d been stripped of his title and recalled to New York. “And yes, it’s Mrs. Daniel Sousa these days.”
“Mrs. Daniel Sousa,” Phillips repeats, whistling as he takes a seat. “Didn’t think I’d see the - good God, Carter, sit down. You’re making me nervous.”
Peggy slowly lowers herself into the chair across from him, acutely aware she’s barefoot and wearing an ill-fitting maternity dress. “Not now, my love,” she murmurs when the baby begins to kick.
“What was that, Carter?”
“The baby - ” Peggy winces as a little foot stomps her bladder “ - is moving.”
Phillips pulls a face. “Let’s make this quick, then. It’s my understanding that - that thing eventually has to come out. When it does, I’ve got a job for you. Unless - ” he quirks an eyebrow “ - you’re content being Mrs. Daniel Sousa.”
“Colonel Phillips, I assure you, I’m quite - ” But Peggy falters. As much as she loves her husband, she can’t fathom spending her days cooped up in this apartment with a baby. “I’m listening.”
Phillips chuckles. “You know,” he says, “I would’ve been by sooner, but that husband of yours sure likes to hover.”
Peggy would be inclined to agree if she weren’t so immediately incensed. “You’ve had me under - surveillance?”
“Cool your jets, Carter,” says Phillips. “Stark told me if I wanted to get you alone, I’d have to wait until Sousa left for work. So I bought a newspaper - ” his breast pocket rustles when he taps it “ - and a cup of coffee - ” he bares his yellow teeth at her “ - and waited ’til I saw a ‘handsome gimp’ leave the building. Don’t give me that look, I’m quoting Stark.” He claps his hands together in front of him, elbows resting on the table, as if he’s done making his point. “Where’d he serve?”
“Bastogne,” Peggy says tersely, though she’s certain Phillips already knows this.
“He one of the boys Captain Rogers rescued?”
Peggy’s not about to dignify his question with a response. “I thought you were here about a job,” she says through gritted teeth.
“About six months ago, an old friend called. Wanted to know if I’d be interested in helping start a new covert intelligence agency to fight the Soviet threat. Hell no, I said. I’m too damn old. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I told him we’d talk when the funding was appropriated. Figured I’d be dead before that happened. Lo and behold, he calls me last week to say he has a backer.”
“Howard,” Peggy surmises.
“Ding, ding, ding,” says Phillips, in his usual tone. “Well, I should’ve hung up then and there, but like a damn fool I stayed on the line. Finally I agreed to help, on one condition: I’d get to handpick my successor.”
And he stares pointedly at Peggy.
She’s immediately skeptical. “Me? You really want me to - ”
“Yes, you,” Phillips interrupts. “Carter, if this is going to work, I need a team I can trust, and I don’t trust Stark. But you? You’re smart, capable and discreet. Just the man for a job.”
“Only I’m a woman,” Peggy points out.
Phillips waves his hand. “Even better,” he says. “You’re used to not getting credit.”
“And what will you calling this new agency?”
“S.H.I.E.L.D.,” says Phillips, “and don’t ask me what it stands for, I’ve already forgotten. The pay’s crap and so are the hours. You can’t tell anyone what you do. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”
Peggy’s response is perfectly demure. “I’ll have to discuss it with my husband.” Clumsily, she rises to shake his hand. “Colonel Phillips.”
She’s still standing with her hand on the doorknob when her water breaks ten minutes later.
This time, Phillips doesn’t bother to knock. He’s speaking into his wristwatch, no doubt one of Howard’s disguised listening devices. “Someone better be calling Agent Carter’s husband,” he barks.
“You said I wasn’t under surveillance!” Peggy huffs.
Phillips eyes her soaked dress. “And you said you weren’t going to give birth at any minute,” he says evenly. “We all lie, Carter. Now come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”