#James lotto world

[rainstormraven]

This Is What Water Bottles Are For

Never let Sirius and James go out alone. Remus had known this rule since he was eleven years old. It was rule number one, aside from not revealing the many, many secrets the group (especially Remus) had. Unfortunately, sometimes we break our own rule. They were adults now after all. He could trust them to be responsible. Right?

Remus was curled up with a book when the rumbling started. At first, he thought nothing of it. Just a thunderstorm starting. There wasn’t any indication in the forecast they would have rain but he learned long ago to trust the weatherman. It was a pleasant surprise. Or at least that's what he thought. He was sorely mistaken.

The rumbling lasted a few minutes longer than most thunder, becoming increasingly louder until he could feel the vibration a bit. It felt close. His heart sank. Please no. Two quick honks from outside confirmed his suspicions. There was someone in his driveway and he was pretty sure he knew who it was.

Sirius was oozing with pride as Remus came down the walk. They were standing in front of a death trap on wheels, looking like they had won the lotto. James sat behind the wheel with an equally grand smile on his face.

“What is that?” Remus gaped at the monstrosity in front of him.

“It’s a car Moony!” Sirius replied, beaming at their boyfriend.

Car was a very loose definition for the hunk of metal sitting in their driveway. It looked as though it had been fished out of a river. Knowing them it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. How either of them drove the car from wherever they got it was a mystery he was not eager to solve as neither of them had a license and as far as Remus knew had never driven a car.

“I am at a loss for words”

James stepped out of the driver's seat, “isn’t she a beauty.”

“She’s… Uh, something,” Remus floundered. What on earth possessed his friends to buy a car? It wasn’t as if they need one they had magic for Merlin’s sake. Lily had a license but she and Mary spent a good portion of their time in the muggle world.

“You haven’t even seen the best part!” James cried.

Remus eyed him sceptically, “best part?”

“Yeah! Come on!” Sirius grabbed his hand dragging him around to the back of the car. It was just as rusted as the rest of the car. Nothing spectacular.

“What?”

“Look!” Sirius pointed excitedly to the top left corner of the back window where an obnoxious rainbow sticker featuring a deer was placed.

James’ eyes were sparkling as he join them behind the vehicle. “Oh deer I’m queer! Do you get it? Deer like me and we’re all queer! It’s amazing!”

“Please tell me you didn’t buy a car just because you wanted to put a sticker on it. That's what water bottles are for.”

“Of course not Moony.” His boyfriend assured him.

“It already had the sticker when we found it! It was fate!”

“This is… I don’t… What?” Remus stopped to collect himself. “I’m going inside to read again and pretend I never saw this.”

He paused at the door. “Good luck James I wouldn't want to be you today.” He laughed as he closed the door.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asked.

“Not sure mate.”

The two best friends climbed back into their new find excited to show it off to all of their friends.

[closedcoffins]

baccano! verses for the un-baccano!’d: part 1.

cahir aep ceallach is a member of the runorata family, provided personally by the house of dormentaire as a gesture of goodwill ti counterbalance the suspicious-by-nature homunculus melvi dormentaire. cahir remains in the crime family against his will---the house of dormentaire had privately and cunningly threatened his family’s safety if he did not comply---but carries out the things he is asked to do without complaint. he’s starting to mind it less, though, after developing a positive relationship with the young carzelio runorata.

dandelion---known formerly by the name julian alfred pankratz---hides from everyone the fact that he was thrown out of his family home at a young age, and had come to lotto valentino under the pretense of being nothing more than a startup traveling bard with better chances in a smaller town. after sneaking onto the advena avis in order to safely leave the city before it fell under the rule of the house of dormentaire ( with whom dandelion’s family had close relations ), dandelion becomes a complete immortal in the year 1711. rather than panic, after escaping that nightmare of a ship, he... just keeps traveling the world and singing songs like he always has.

cyran azerrad kapral is a lost, helpless man. or at least he’d have you think that, anyway. something like a modern terror in the small town of lotto valentino, he assures the city never sees a decade of rest, springing up as a threat to rival even the mask makers with how dangerously he strikes. what people tend to miss is that cyran is actually a vampire, and while he doesn’t intend to subside on lotto valentino forever... it’s certainly a small town, so there might not even be people left when he’s decided he’s had his fill.

mark twain is a man with a strange modus operandi. “the thrill of life comes from near misses with death,” so he says. it’s probably for this reason that twain finds himself among the gang of killers that loyally follows ladd russo. though he didn’t kill anyone aboard the flying pussyfoot, twain found himself nearly becoming a victim of the rail tracer by association, before the man who’d paired up with him let slip that he’d been too cowardly to actually want to kill anyone on the train. spared, and with the memory of the train tracks just inches from his face, twain makes an abrupt about-face and swears that he’ll help the rail tracer clean the train up, and hey, maybe we could do that kind of thing again sometime...

louis james moriarty, with his two brothers and some company, has recently moved into millionaire’s row in manhattan, sparking some discussion among the more well to do crowds. it’s surely a coincidence that their movement coincides with the murder of a corrupt stock trader with a side gig as a loan shark; these sorts of things happen all the time. oh, but with threats on the lives of people such as manfred beriam and cal muybridge, it might only be a matter of time before people grow suspicious...

taryon darrington has gotten himself in deeper than he can reasonably handle with the mafia, which comes as little surprise to everyone who has ever met him. after accidentally offending one of the higher-ups in the runorata family, taryon decides to fight fire with fire by seeking shelter with the gandor family. unfortunately, having underestimated how terrifying the gandors were, taryon once again finds himself in a position of fear vs. survival, and is thusly relieved when he’s unceremoniously swooped away by a strange duo of robbers known as isaac & miria for a supposedly brilliant adventure. really, he’d only mentioned once that he liked tales of old heroes...

kashaw vesh has never really known peace. a homunculus created by huey laforet and handed over to renee parmedes branvillier, his life has been nothing more than a series of endless experiments, small pinpricks and trauma. that’s probably why, at the first opportunity, kash accepted the offer of help from a fellow homunculus who called himself sham to escape the care of renee and the nebula corporation. now, hunted, kash spends his time ensuring that he’s ready for when the day comes that he faces renee again. immortal or not, he’s not letting her go without some serious damage.

[mywifeleftme]

251: Nicolás Jaar // Sirens

Sirens Nicolas Jaar 2016, Other People

Nicolás Jaar’s Space is Only Noise was the first electronic album to truly obsess me, and I remember going out the day the shipment of Sirens was due to drop at one of my local shops in Toronto feeling geekily breathless about whether anyone would snipe one of the coveted Deluxe Editions with the lotto scratch ticket cover and US quarter (legitimately one of the cooler sleeve concepts I’ve seen) before I could get there. (This was before I knew you could just… ask the shop to hold a copy for you.) Part of my anxiousness was down to the issues Jaar had with an uncleared Ray Charles sample on Space cut “I Got A,” which ultimately led to the track being pulled from subsequent pressings of the record. At the risk of sounding like the most congested kind of nerd, I am so accustomed to the pacing of the album as I first heard it that the song’s absence is so distracting I have trouble listening all the way through the expurgated version. Well, I did get my first pressing of Sirens, and then Jaar released an expanded digital version the following year that he described as “what it should have been all along.” The moral of the story is unclear, other than that being prissy about physical media is a sucker’s game.

Anyway, (any) Sirens is great. I don’t know if anybody in the game today has a more varied or interesting palette of percussion sounds than Jaar—whether it’s Ricardo Villalobos-esque burps and burbles, samples of shattering glass, or the marching walls of drums that drive “Three Sides of Nazareth,” they all bear the mark of the producer’s meticulousness. Like the other records he’s released under his own name (versus the dancefloor-oriented Against All Logic), much of Sirens has a floating quality, nebulously structured songs that rely more on texture than melody or momentum. The body of “No” brings to mind the muffled, dissociated way things sound when your ears get plugged by water or altitude, but when it finally shifts into a swaying, Latin rhythm it sounds as crisp as the world does when your ears finally pop. Despite its downtempo overall vibe, Sirens does find Jaar flirting more directly with popular music than he really has since: “History Lesson” offers an uncharacteristically swooning vocal from Jaar (and predicts the minimalist soul Brittany Howard would perfect a few years later on Jaime), while “Wildflowers” feels like his stab at the ambient R&B/future garage style of a Burial or a James Blake.

I only pull Sirens off the shelf when I have the space to really lose myself in its grooves, but in the right mood it can be transfixing. It offers further proof that Jaar continues to be (somewhat) quietly one of the major artists of the past fifteen years.

251/365

[commanderquinn]

Good Space Chapter 2: Man On The Moon

! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!

that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh

—

master list / ao3 chapter link

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warnings: lotta swearing and usual heavy pstd bucky stuff. also!! im giving sam's story a little bit of author bias/culture venting. this wont read like canon FATWS sam, though i am trying to honor their show where i dont hate it. i love sam's journey to cap, even if ken doll was nauseating (whats funny is i didnt know his actor's name is wyatt until halfway through THIS chapter when i googled something. oh well lmao im sure he's a perfectly nice dude. the wyatt in this fic is My Baby) plus the trump era commentary was completely toothless imo. and the fact that james buchanan barnes acknowledged in episODE T H R E E of the series that he'd take the shield before letting it fall???? even through all his self-hatred?????? get the fuck out of here that desTROYED ME i hate this fictional man with a passion

song: this one's by kid cudi!! 🥰

its time for the l o n g i n g to start ❤️ grab tissues!! first biggie angst so i had to put it behind our resident teddy bear's pov 🥺 you KNOOOOW i had to finish up this update in time for stevie’s birthday 🥰

—

October 3rd, 2015

Samuel Wilson was not disillusioned when he walked into his first recruitment office. There were no patriotic stars in his eyes, no lotto number clutched painfully between nervous fingers to drive his feet up to that kiosk. He wasn’t foaming at the mouth to earn career-establishing stripes in a timely fashion. All he had to his name was a high school diploma and twenty-three bucks in his pocket. He didn’t have any big dreams for the desert rocks to tear a hole through. 

Sam was a kid back then. One who wanted to build a life, and the GI Bill offered to make that happen. A solid, steady income with the vision of a college education somewhere on the horizon. Not a lot of other options for someone like him, no matter which familiar corner of the country he looked at.

It took a long time and the right partner for the Air Force to talk him out of his combat objections once the ANG got wind of him. He turned the experimental program down flat twice; Pararescue was his focus for a reason. They had to bribe him with cutting-edge tech and the authority to refuse an assignment just to get him to agree to a first flight. The words never found their way onto an official record, at least none he knows of, but Sam had relentlessly insisted that he wouldn’t be volunteering as the next Indianapolis. Getting pushback on that assertion was when the anger first set in. The first crack in the armor of his career.

There were a lot of better angels within the service; it took most of them to get him home, tape-free, after Riley’s death. By the end of it all, it felt like every last one of them was outnumbered fifty to one. Nothing felt right anymore, including the idea of leaving the family he found in the sand to fend for themselves. The only thing that felt survivable after the world finally stopped tilting was dedicating himself to the VA.

Living for the memory of the ones he lost helped him find other reasons to want to be a person again. From there, it was mostly helping other people find reasons of their own that drove him forward.

It’s why he’s willing to delve into some shithole facility in the middle of nowhere Russia for a guy like Steve Rogers. And, on some levels, he supposes, if he absolutely has to, for a guy like Bucky Barnes. Even if he is the grouchiest motherfucker on the face of the Earth.

The lumbering moron hasn’t said a word all morning, no matter what small talk Steve tries to open with. And he’s tried everything, ever since they landed. Sam’s responded to a few of the openings himself just to try to fill the silence. He hopes it’s helping. It’s been hard to get a detailed read on the other push-pop’s triggers so far. Steve hasn’t signaled for him to stop, so.

“Cryo is through here,” Bucky rumbles under his breath. They’re the first words he’s spoken since the Quinjet.

“How many should we be expecting?” Steve asks almost as quietly.

“How many people am I asking you to put a bullet through, you mean.”

Steve stops halfway through the door Bucky’s directed them to. “We haven’t decided if that’s what we’re going to—”

“Maybe you haven’t decided. I’ll do it if you won’t.” The former sergeant doesn’t turn around. He keeps walking, getting closer to the stocky metal pods.

Sam already hates this. He already hates this a whole fucking lot. Captain America coming to him with a request to take the headcase to Russia was always going to get weird; he knew that. But he’s been very clear on what he’s down for, and now they’re in murder and war crime weird. He’d like to start slowing down the crazy train—

Steve holds up his hand. “Bucky, listen, it doesn’t have to—”

“Fuck off. You have no idea what it’s like to sit in this hell. You two can wait outside if you’re so uncomfortable. I’ve got it from here.”

Mmm. That’s the voice of a guilt-ridden survivor. Sam recognizes it well. At least it’s giving him a bead on where today’s drive is coming from. “You mean the hell we pulled you from?”

Steve’s head whips around, with righteous, territorial anger in his eyes. “You’re right, Buck; we don’t. But—”

“But you don’t know what they want,” Sam forcefully finishes, staring back at Steve. He banks on the fact that, technically, they’re not really disagreeing. Steve’s trying to back him down, too, in his own way. “Taking away their chance at the same new life you’re getting isn’t—”

Bucky’s cybernetic fist comes crashing down on one of the corroded desks, making the rusted metal whine in protest, deforming to the shape of his fingers. “You two don’t fucking get it.” He turns, angrily tugging his hand back to his side. The assassin doesn’t advance, but his posture is more than ready for it as he glares at them with pure contempt. “You think you’re going to find people in those tanks—humans, with hearts and minds and hopes and dreams. There might as well be skeletons getting freezer-burned in those goddamn caskets because that’s the only salvageable thing you’ll find. You fucking—”

He laughs, the sound empty, and turns back around to send his fist into the side of the table, knocking it across the room. He doesn’t face them again. “You fuckers! You take a fucking look at me. Take a good, long look. I am half alive. I had a radiation-free knockoff keeping me upright through their bullshit. You wanna know what they had? Something that might as well have been piss mixed in some fucking snow. Worthless trash those Nazi bastards bottled up and stuck in a needle.”

“Bucky—” Steve tries to calm his best friend as the man’s voice breaks. Sam could tell him from first-hand experience how well that’s going to go over.

There was a lot of screaming in that desert. A lot of grief disguised as anger. A lot of old ideals leaving newly-shattered men one seething tear at a time.

“They were zombies by the time HYDRA was done injecting them. Do you get that? Are you two grasping the concept? They were rabid dogs I trained to respond to whistles. Rotting corpses that I taught how to aim. And that was before their brains shorted out on them. I looked into every single one of their eyes. I saw what looked back. Fuck species—what was in there was not fucking alive. Fuck you—fuck you so fucking much for even fucking suggesting I should leave them like that—like animated fucking cadavers—hooked up to some fucking machine just to breathe—”

“James.”

Bucky’s flood of words finally cuts off, and Sam isn’t sure if it’s because of the use of his first name or the way he swallows as if he’s choking. His flesh hand comes down on the back of the chair that started out tucked under the table. It keeps the guy upright while he pulls in a few breaths that look painful, even through the curtain of dark brown hair.

“Let’s see what’s what first,” Sam suggests as diplomatically as he can manage. He doesn’t take a step forward, mostly because he doesn’t see Steve take one. “Then we go from there.”

“You’re going to hate what you see.” Bucky scoffs bitterly. “You think you know, but you don’t. You’re going to hate me for bringing you here. For the rest of your lives.”

Steve moves forward, finally, but he stays a few feet to Bucky’s seven o’clock. “I’m not dumb enough to make you any promises about not hating what I see here. I haven’t even looked in one, and I already know you’re right on the money when it comes to that. But I can promise that you’ll always be wrong about me hating you for any of this.”

“So can I,” Sam assures. There’s not a doubt in his mind now that he understands where they’re at.

—

Bucky’s up at 0500. 

He hasn’t slept a minute later than that since the first night his body adjusted to New York’s timezone, no matter what hour he falls asleep. He doesn’t attempt more than upright power naps on away missions. They’re the only thing that gets him any rest outside of his room in the tower. 

It’s the same every morning. First, he works on his back, popping away the stiffness one awkward bend of his limbs at a time. From there, the extra thick comforter gets picked up off the floor, then the blanket and the lopsided pillow. They always get tossed on top of the bed he’s never used. Except on Saturdays, when he does his laundry. That’s when they get put in a basket to be taken to Natasha’s room. She won’t let him have his own washing machine until he starts using the bed.

So, every Saturday, he shows up with his little pile at 0800 because Natasha won’t unlock the door until then. A pillowcase. A blanket and matching comforter. Two shirts, usually henleys, five black tanks, and two different tactical pants. One pair of gloves. His singular monkey suit gets taken to the cleaners whenever he’s forced to wear it, which thankfully isn’t often.

His dress uniform hasn’t come out of the box Steve dropped it off in after getting it pulled from the goddamn Smithsonian. Bucky hasn’t laid eyes on it since 1943.

While he’s working his hair up into a serviceable bun, he thinks about Natasha’s recommendation to start braiding it before he sleeps. He doesn’t like the idea of something that tight sitting against his head, especially at night. Maybe if he lets his hair grow out a little more. He wants to keep the shoulder length it’s at now, though. It looks good on him. He wants to know what asking someone to pull on it feels like. Eventually. 

Online dating has been… overwhelming, to say the least.

He’s reaching for the medkit in the drawer under his bathroom sink when the mental image of Ava creeps in. He isn’t trying to blow off the hippie’s orders. Honestly, the thought of their deal hadn’t crossed his mind until he got to this part of his day. Resisting the urge yesterday had been difficult. He knew ahead of time that today was going to be much worse. It means pushing through a repeated break in his pattern.

That voice, the one that insists he should tell Steve to fuck off much more, rears its head. His flesh hand twitches with the reflex to finish his usual routine. To show up late to her office with some blase excuse about doing it out of habit. He could sell the lie without even trying. Entire countries have fallen thanks to his expertise with it. She wouldn’t have a shot in hell at knowing the difference.

He could work his way out of this with ease. Steve already feels guilty about making him pull a hard stop during his first visit, even if he won’t say the words. It’s the perfect opening to establish a line and push it away to give himself some room, one step at a time.

With a decisive flick of his wrist, Bucky shuts the drawer holding his medkit. For the second time since he was allowed to travel without a handler, he walks away from his morning routine without treating the cybernetics on the back of his neck.

It makes his skin feel wrong—off, unsettled—as he gets his standard gear on. He’s still grounded, thanks to Steve, so it’s the version he’s got closest to fatigues. He hopes the doctor doesn’t mind rolling down a polyester turtleneck to get at his brain port. He almost skips going to the gym for his workout, but that would worsen the off feeling. And he’d have to sit around with nothing to do for hours waiting for their first scheduled maintenance. 

He slides his phone into his back pocket, intent on heading to his standard morning haunt. A few hours of going through his paces in the gym will help his nerves. When his mind offers up the suggestion that a workout before seeing the cute doctor could be—advantageous, he tries not to linger in it. 

The idea certainly doesn’t make him feel bad. It’s even sort of... motivating in its own way. It... contributes to his reasons for doing a few extra sets on the bench. And adding a quick rock wall climb. There are others, of course. Being chained to the tower like a toddler in timeout because his best friend is an asshole is certainly one of them. He tacks on more time at the reinforced, Super-Soldier-proof punching bag to ease that particular frustration.

Even with the additions to his cardio, he’s still got an hour to kill before their appointment. He fills it by heading for the roof of the tower. It’s not even 0900, so no one but a few graveyard stragglers are out in the open space. SHIELD agents like him that are married to the job, catching a glimpse of the sun and a few puffs of nicotine before going to crash. Bucky stops to help one of them struggling with her lighter, offering up his spare Bic. The other agent smiles at him in tired appreciation before hovering the end of her cigarette over the flame. He counts it as contributing to his social life. He’ll figure out how to phrase it to get his therapist off his ass later. 

The brain trust’s space is, unsurprisingly, effortless to find. Ava wasn’t kidding; it’s actually tucked away in one corner of the roof, hidden along the wall that extends up to the tower’s executive launch bay. Bucky had expected them to claim a spot overlooking the Avenger’s balcony. Then again, he’s heard she’s pretty close friends with Tony, so maybe he shouldn’t have. She probably knows better by now. 

There’s another collection of gargantuan chairs, this time made out of wicker and upholstery that feels soft when he runs his fingers over it. A tapestry rivaling the paint swatches at Steve’s supply store is mounted to the wall behind them. Two poles hold it at the opposite corners, keeping it blowing slightly in the wind as it hangs over the collected seating. The coffee table in the middle has a lockbox sitting on it, with SHEILDs insignia embossed on the lid. 

He’s got level seven clearance these days. He could still easily get through that lock, even if he didn’t. It’s going to drive him batshit, not knowing what’s in it before she takes him up here herself. 

Bucky turns around and gets halfway back to the door to the stairwell before the buzzing in his neck builds too much for comfort. He grinds his teeth through the sensation. He even manages to force himself another few steps forward. But, ultimately, the buzzing wins out, and he spins again with a vicious curse. 

The confirmation chime of his clearance override feels too loud, even out here in the open. The top of the lockbox rolls back, revealing a set of playing cards, a jumbled collection of stress toys, a SHEILD standard medkit, and some candles. He almost leaves without checking the medkit. He’s so close to being able to stomach the idea. 

Almost. 

There’s nothing sinister to be found in it once it’s open. It’s stock issue. Not one of the item counts is off, but the lot numbers don’t match, meaning she maintains it regularly. Knowing that information feels invasive, despite being convinced she wouldn’t mind how he got it.

This. Isn’t. Siberia. Ava Ryder is not going to put a gun in his hand. She is not a risk to him. 

Bucky leaves the roof, headed for her lab. He’s going to tell her he went snooping. He can do that, at least—a bare minimum level of respect to offer her. 

She’s not in her office when he gets through the painted door at 0857. Only one of the doctors is behind the glass today. It’s the other woman—the American-born German. Hannah. Her head is down, focused on a tablet under her hands, with wireless earbuds peaking out from her dirty blonde hair. A hologram of a brain Bucky doesn’t recognize is running next to her. It’s not his; there’s no spider webbing. One of their other patients then. 

He takes a seat in the same chair he used during his last visit. “JARVIS?”

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes,” the AI responds with nothing but tranquility. “Something you need?”

“Can you tell the doc I’m ready when she is?”

“Of course. Dr. Ryder has not yet entered the building. I’ll let her know you’ve arrived.”

Bucky frowns. “Ah—cancel that. Is she—“ Don’t ask him to track her, you dumbfuck. That’s weird. “Never mind. I’ll wait.”

This is New York. He’s not even sure what part of the city she lives in. For all he knows, she could be stuck in a cab uptown. He can pull the stick out of his ass long enough to give her room to be human. 

He sits there in silence, sunken into pillows with his leg bouncing rapidly, and talks himself up in his head. He’s not uncomfortable. He’s not going to bullshit his way out of this. This is good; it’s going to help him. Bucky is happy about that. It’s a relief to be facing this after a lifetime of running. 

By 0901, he wants to leave. The urge is nearly overwhelming. He makes it to 0904 before he stands up. It takes until 0906 to convince himself to sit back down. 

“I have an incoming message from Dr. Ryder if you wish to hear it, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS tells him eleven minutes after the appointment was supposed to start. 

Thank god. “Play it.”

“Morning, JAR!” Her voice is muffled in the recording. She’s got something in her mouth. She’s also in the most broken-down piece of shit in the city by the sounds of it, so not a cab. The subway, maybe? It should be a lot louder than that. “Tell Bucky I’m about fifteen minutes behind and that I’m very sorry. Oh—and tell him to pick the candle!”

His eyebrows lift in confused surprise. “I’m picking a candle?”

“Choosing a candle to burn is part of the daily routine of lab 5923. Dr. Ryder and I usually decide on one, but the option is left open for patients. You will find a box behind her desk; there is a wide array to select from.”

“You pick it together?” Bucky prods, the corner of his lips twitching as he gets back up to check for said box. 

“She enjoys having someone to banter with about them. Dr. Schuster doesn’t usually have anything to contribute to the topic. Dr. Combs only has so many opinions on the matter. He is not overly particular about the olfactory state of the lab.”

“Is Ava?” It’s getting easier to refer to her by her first name alone. It helps that it’s made her smile the handful of times he’s done it. 

“Not especially. I would call her enthusiastic. She finds the options comforting, and there are very few that she doesn’t enjoy.”

“No kidding,” Bucky mutters as he pulls open the top of a very large box. He smelled the thing long before he picked it up, and looking at what’s inside confirms everything the AI’s telling him. There are dozens of them in here, and most of them are unburned. Various shapes and gimmicky scent names stare back at him. Not a lot of Bath & Bodyworks, he’s noticing. 

The hippie is a small business aficionado. How utterly shocking. 

He pushes around the amassed jars for a few minutes. His mind files away a few options he wants to try for later if they don’t get used up on the days he won’t be here. Definitely before he finishes talking her out of demanding these appointments. He picks up one that claims to smell like cranberries and peppermint for a test sniff. 

Thanks to the combination, the barest hint of the ghost of a memory comes over him. One that whispers the name of his mother. This happens sometimes. A fragment that’s still hanging on by a thread will float by. They never have much context, not anything he can typically extrapolate on, infuriatingly enough. Just his mind taunting him that something should be there, but it isn’t. 

He picks that candle, and it doesn’t make him sad as he lights it. None of his pieced-together memories of the life he never got to finish do anymore. He takes them in stride and tries to enjoy what he can. 

That’s what Ma would have wanted.

—

Ava hip-checks the door to her office somewhere around 9:30. 

This is already shaping up to be a terrible second impression. All that grief she gave Bucky about leaving things in her capable hands, and now here she is, showing up late and half-showered to the appointment that’s supposed to finish acclimating him. 

“I am so sorry,” she rushes out, dumping her bag on the closest available surface. It ends up being one of the novelty end tables tucked between the consultation chairs. At least she finally took the one shaped like a leg home. “I completely overslept, and then I wanted to grab you something from my favorite bagel place—do you want one, by the way?” She waves a finger at her bag, then at Bucky, who watches her as she walks and talks her way to her desk. “They’re in that side pouch, the ones that have cream cheese are wrapped up separately. I didn’t know if you were a plain butter kind of New Yorker. Anyways, there was this mouth-breathing dickhead who—” 

She stops and takes a deep breath in when her over-taxed mind finally registers the smell around her. 

“Good morning,” he says from the chairs, amusement coloring his tone. 

She spins on her heel, her glasses jostling with the motion, chuckling softly. “Good morning, Sergeant. Sorry. This is what happens when you talk to me before the coffee finishes evening out in my bloodstream. Fantastic choice, by the way. What is that? It’s peppermint—something.”

“Peppermint and cranberries.” His lips pull up into a half-smile that absolutely sells her on the idea of him being a serial heartstopper in the 30s. “Advertised in what looked like a mushroom cloud.”

Ava’s chuckling turns into an outright bark of laughter as she pulls her work tablet from behind her keyboard. “Yeah. That sounds about right. One of the candle makers I buy from is an anarchist working out of a garage. Great stuff, even if you do have to listen to the most ass backwards view of free trade to get the guy to send you his stock. Good morning to you, too, JARVIS, now that I’m not babbling around a mouthful of food.”

“No need to worry; I’ve become very fluent in your language of scarfing,” JARVIS assures. 

“My mother would keel over if she heard you say that.” Ava waddles over to her latest patient, tablet in one hand and medkit in the other. She puts the kit down on the arm of his chair, in the same spot she put the scanner case last time. He looks much less nervous now, and she gives him a warm smile to encourage that. “I know you don’t want me talking your ear off, and the breakfast offer can wait until we’re done, so let’s get down to this.”

Bucky’s mouth opens. There’s a moment of hesitation before he says anything. She doesn’t try to rush him through it. “What’s the plan, doc?”

“Paige won’t be back from the field until later today at the earliest, so I don’t have anything new for you to test. I passed along your request for the field kit dimensions. She says making something that portable shouldn’t be a problem.” Ava taps on the black sleeve of his shirt. “How comfortable are you with the idea of using nanotech?”

“As in the tiny robots Tony’s always testing?”

“Mhmm.”

“For what? My neck?” He raises his hand to the general area of the port, and she hears him scratching at the fabric over it. “I don’t think it’s—I thought this kind of opening couldn’t be—”

“I don’t mean for closing it off,” she corrects quickly, wanting to avoid a misunderstanding that might get his hopes up. “I want to program a batch specifically for daily care of your implants. The port and your shoulder. Something you can keep in safe housing for use in the field. Now—I want to make sure you understand something upfront. This won’t change my professional opinion; you need to have a specialist looking at this on an extremely frequent basis. However, I would prefer it if you had the nanotech as a safety net. The more of this that we can automate for you, the better.”

“I can agree to that. I’m guessing the bug bots don’t come with a manual.”

Ava moves behind him, mostly to hide how the grumpy old man routine is making her grin from ear to ear. “They usually don’t need one. I’ll be making you a checklist to go over if that makes you feel better.”

“You don’t—that’s—” He hesitates again, making her stop before she can make contact with his neck. “You don’t have to keep... doing stuff. Like that. I’m alright with trusting the bug bots.”

Another piece of Ava Ryder’s heart breaks for Bucky Barnes. “That's great to hear. But, just so you know, I’m going to hand you a checklist anyways.”

“Alright.” His head barely nods; she’s guessing because he can feel her fingers hovering. The evaluations of his senses were so off the charts it set a new testing standard for SHIELD. “That’s—appreciated.”

“You don’t have to worry so much about the manners.” Pressing down with a disinfectant, she circles her thumb around the port, wanting to get it done before moving to his shoulder. That’s going to need a shirt removal. She leans down and shifts to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m not reporting them back to Steve.”

“Don’t worry; my work wife will come to weasel it out of you or JARVIS all on his own.”

Ava giggles quietly, her eyes honed in on clearing the excess buildup. “You’re not having fun being married to Captain America?”

“Oodles,” he deadpans, making her giggles worsen.

She gives him a break from the small talk while she finishes working on his neck. At some point, she’ll need to put together a specialized blend for loosening up the scar tissue; the skin around it is dried to hell and back from years of sterile wipes. She doubts comfort has been much of a concern, and she’s not about to recommend putting generic lotion over it, but this is ridiculous. There’s no reason for him to live with pain like that.

“I don’t suppose a man from the 30s is going to appreciate being given a moisturizing routine.”

“Nat’s going to be thrilled.”

“She’s your work husband, I’m guessing?”

“She likes to act like it.” Bucky turns his head to glance back for a split second just as she leans forward to swap out for an ointment. The way his head jerks back into place lets her know he got an eyeful of cleavage on the journey. It perfectly mirrors how his eyes snapped up from her chest when he first walked in. She’s not exactly embarrassed about it, but she does feel bad watching him shift around nervously. “But I’m not dumb enough to argue. About that. With her.”

The awkward charm is starting to make her cheeks hurt. “Sounds like a reasonable choice. I hear arguing with Russian women isn’t a smart idea in general.”

“Not if you want to keep your limbs attached.”

“Is it too early for me to start asking for state secrets? Like, say, if the Winter Soldier happened to get his ass handed to him by a former commie?”

“I’m pretty sure she was still a commie the first time.”

“The first time?” Ava asks with excited delight, her hand pausing on his shoulder.

“There were a few run-ins. She’ll remember more of them.” Bucky grimaces with annoyance. “Worse, she’ll be willing to tell them to you.”

“Would you be willing to let me hear them?” she goads.

His shoulders lift with a strained sigh. “Sure, let’s call it willing.”

“You’ll have to remind me if I’m lucky enough to meet her.” She drums her finger on his mechanical shoulder. “Gonna need you to take this shirt off, superstar.”

“Off? Wait, what did you just—” Bucky shakes his head with a quiet huff of laughter. “I’ve got the arm covered.”

“I know, that’s the problem.”

“Alright, smartass. You know damn well what I meant. I took care of it before I came here; it wasn’t part of our deal.”

“Does gross puss leak out of it?”

She can see his eyes roll, even with his head only partially turned. “You know it does.”

“And is it attached to your brain?”

“Ava—really, I’ve got this.” His head turns all the way, and the smile comes back, in full force this time, and oh. Oh, she can absolutely believe that he broke half the hearts in Brooklyn during his reign of terror.

She leans down into his space, letting her arms rest on the back of his chair. “You know what I’ve got?”

His lips purse in resigned amusement. “Multiple medical degrees?”

“You betcha. They were stupid hard to earn, too, so I’d appreciate it if you could start taking that into account.”

“I’m not trying to dismiss them—”

“Just the expertise that they gave me.” When his smile turns guilty, she shifts her weight as naturally as she can to push her chest against her arms in compensation. She doesn’t miss the way he blinks a split second later. Such a gentleman. It almost makes her feel bad. “I don’t mind you arguing the point of your independence. I’m glad for it, Bucky. It tells me that you really want this to work. I hope you can start trusting that when I suggest against it, I’m doing it with your health in mind. Nothing more. You can tell me what you’re comfortable with from there.”

He stares at her like he’s in pain. For an almost uncomfortably long time. “I broke into your lockbox.”

Ava blinks at the sudden shift. “Okay. Wait—my what? Are you talking about the candle box? That doesn’t even have a lock—”

“Your stuff on the roof. You keep a SHEILD issue safe up there. On the table. I used my override.”

It takes a moment to piece together what he’s getting at. She’s been running late since she woke up on Paige’s couch at 7:50 something. The only thing in her bloodstream right now is caffeine; there was no time for a wake-and-bake. “Oh. Oh, oh, that’s just... it’s not locked locked; we don’t really care if anyone uses the stuff in it. We just needed something to put it in that the weather can’t get to.” She smiles at him as his shoulders relax. “You went to see our little corner?”

Bucky shrugs. “I was around.”

“Mhmm, I’m sure. And bouncing off the walls with Steve’s lockdown, no doubt. The faster you get that shirt off, the faster you and I can iron out a plan to get you back in the field. Work with me here, Barnes.”

Bucky stands up with a sigh, and his hands move to his shirt. He pauses while they cling to the bottom of it, his arms crossed. Once again, she doesn’t push him through his hesitation. “I don’t mind if you talk about things. Steve only said that shit about being direct to keep me from stalling my way out of this.”

Ava’s eyebrows pull in while she thinks over the words. “Is that the only thing he’s lied about? I don’t care if you two keep secrets, but you can’t bullshit about your mental health with me. I need to know what makes you uncomfortable; otherwise, I can’t do my job.”

“That’s all I can think of,” he assures her, and she believes him despite the wording. 

“In that case, you’re kind of stupid, full offense.”

It’s Bucky’s turn with the blinking. “Excuse me?”

“You signed yourself up for morning appointments, and you just gave me permission to talk your ear off. You’re an absolute moron; now take off that shirt so I can make sure your brain doesn’t melt.”

—

She has a pet cat named Oreo, of all fucking things. 

It’s hairless. And dumb as a box of rocks, according to her. The name comes from the huge black spots in its—pattern. He can’t exactly use the word fur. She was highly offended when he called the cat a ballsack while she was showing him her lock screen. He got smacked on the arm for the comment.

It’s not her first pet. She got it partly to mourn the snake she adopted in college, a rosy boa called Sayer that finally died at 32. She used the reptile as companionship and motivation to push through her first PhD. The one letting her work on his brain now. It was named after the lead character from her favorite medical movie, Awakenings. When Bucky mentioned that he’s never seen it, she made him swear up and down that he’ll text her his honest reactions if he ever dares to rip his own heart out with questionable ethics.

So now he’s got her number saved in his phone. It’s the 11th one he’s added. Two of them are therapists. None of the others are people outside of SHIELD. He’s pretty sure one of the therapists is a plant from Natasha, so maybe he should start counting them toward the SHIELD column.

There were only nine others over the course of his online dating attempts. None of them stayed on his phone for more than a month before getting deleted. He wasn’t about to let his therapist catch their names on his contact list.

Bucky switches the grape-flavored lollipop in his mouth over to his right cheek. Ava gave it to him. Bopped him right on the nose with one and then let him pick from an array of five like the blatant bribery it is. The good doctor smiled at him while she did it, too.

May it bring you back in good spirits and better health.

It’s the nicest way he’s ever been told to fuck off for being a grouch. It made him smile. Him. James Buchanan Barnes, in the year of 2018.

She’s.… Christ, calling the woman a handful in this day and age feels insulting. He’s not put off by it. Overwhelmed a little, maybe, but he gets the feeling she’s alright with him taking time to warm up to it. Hell, he gets the feeling that not much bothers her at all. It makes him envious. 

He likes the way she speaks. Not just the crazy and the swearing, though that’s its own comfort. There’s a—it sounds so stupid, but there’s a kind of music to it. She always talks in the same calm rhythm, despite the chaos usually found in her words. He didn’t notice the way it makes his foot stop bouncing until halfway through the appointment.

Bucky scowls. “Davis. Why am I looking at a lost signal?”

The level four analyst Steve’s been telling him to ease up on lately freezes in his swivel chair. His head turns, nervously searching the wall of security feeds. Bucky doesn’t offer up any help. “Sorry, sir, I can’t seem to spot which—”

“Third row from the top, eighth from the left. The one I’m supposed to be monitoring for an illegal exchange of nuclear materials, so if you wouldn’t mind—”

“Yes, sorry, restoring connection now. Apologies, Sergeant, I’ll—keep a closer eye on it.” The agent starts mumbling the rest of his intended sentence, mostly about how many he’s keeping track of, when he cuts himself off. His shoulders pull in a bit, almost chastised. It always takes people a minute to remember the super hearing.

He could let it hang. The feed is fixed; he can go back to staring at an empty lot without interruption.

“You’re doing fine.” Bucky feels bad because he’s having an unordinarily good day. That’s all it is. Nothing more. “Restructure your feed priorities. You can hand most of these off to JARVIS; that’s what he’s patched in for. Focus on the ones your gut doesn’t like.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll start on that now.” The words don’t even sound spiteful.

Bucky sits back against the executive bench of the Datacrux. The stiff leather creaks with the motion, the rigid frame under it keeping him grounded. He tilts his head from side to side, letting it crack and readjust incrementally. His neck doesn’t feel as tight as it should. When he touched it in Ava’s lab, the skin felt even softer than it did after her first round on him. He’s trying not to touch it now. He doesn’t want to irritate it. This is the best it’s felt in—

He doesn’t have a year, he realizes. He can’t remember the one he woke up to cybernetics in. He has no idea when his first taste of cyborg life was. There’s a vague lead, a number written out on paper to fill in the blanks of what’s been destroyed. An estimation anchored around the last day of his former life. But he doesn’t know.

At least you’re still breathing, the better angel in his mind coaxes.

Switching which leg is balanced on which knee, Bucky settles back into his work. It’s been six months since the last lead on his responsibility. There’s been no chatter from the known HYDRA cells, no underground protection contracts with suspiciously good track records hitting Natasha’s web, no suspicious Black Market transfers that scream safe house establishment, nothing. Wherever the Soldats are, they’re being kept under wraps. 

His hounds wouldn’t be able to be contained for anywhere near this long. They’re dead or sedated, no matter where they were smuggled. Otherwise, they’d have surfaced already.

Bucky tries not to think about what a life of not knowing will feel like. He doesn’t know if that’s worse than the idea of burying them. They’re certainly not staring down the barrel of a happy ending at this point. How do you mourn—a situation like that? He can’t even figure out how the hell he’s supposed to be fixing it.

Somewhere out there are the last ravaged pieces of a serum that never should have been made. It’s floating, cobbled together and left to rot, in the veins of men and women who didn’t know what they were signing up for. He remembers having to hold their shoulders down whenever the survival instinct kicked in during the first few injections. He remembers watching their faces as they screamed for a mercy no one in that facility was ever going to grant them. He remembers carrying the bodies of the ones that died in the night, over and over for months, all the way to the incinerator.

Bucky tosses the tablet in his lap off to a spot next to his leg out of disgust. His eyes shut, and his hands come up to rub them hard enough to hurt. He needs sleep. Good, honest to god, medication-induced sleep. He hates relying on those damn pills—it’s not as if they help the other half of his problem, anyhow. Falling asleep is only the start of it. The real kicker is staying unconscious, and nothing he can find, even behind the counter, is going to work on his system for that long.

He needs it, though. It’s been weeks since he got more than a handful of hours at a time. Months since he slept for longer than eight. Steve always talks about crashing for ten at a time after an extended mission, and it makes him want to punch his best friend’s lights out. He’ll never say that out loud, of course, but god. If fucking only.

None of his anger toward Steve ever feels fair. The guy had the world’s worst life before the serum, and he’ll bare his teeth at anyone who tries guilting the captain out of the notion. None of them understand what kind of fresh hell it was being Steve Rogers, and all his undying spirit, while trapped in a body with ten billion health issues. If ever there was someone who earned the responsibility of that serum, it’s him, and Bucky’s damn proud of him for it. He spends his days trying to live up to it himself.

He looks over at the back of the analyst with a guilty expression. People used to dismiss Steve the same way he dismisses people now, whenever the anger simmers. 

“Davis, pull up your priority flags.”

The level four glances back nervously, then clears his throat and refocuses on his terminal. “It’s alright, sir, I’m working on sorting them now—”

“I know. That’s what we’ll be going over.”

“I—” Davis hesitates for a long moment. Bucky stares at the back of his head. “Sergeant Barnes, I’m very sorry about the—”

“This isn’t a reprimand.” Bucky clears his own throat, trying to knock the aggression out of his tone. It’s. A lot more difficult than he was expecting. “You’re new here, so I’m gonna give you the crash course. I’m in here a lot, at all hours. You won’t get a heads-up about it; I’m just going to show up. When I do, there are certain hotspots I’m going to need you to keep focused on. They’re not going to be tied to any active case. You’re not going to be able to tell which ones I need. I’m going to tell you what’s already on my radar, and you can establish your own categories from there. I’ll tell you what else I need you to add as it comes up.”

“Oh.” A little hope is entering the analyst’s tone. “Yeah, that—you know, that sounds like what I do for Romanoff already.”

Bucky frowns. The hell it does. She has exactly three people on the face of this Earth that she trusts to handle something like this for her. He’s willing to do it for convenience, and because he doesn’t give a shit what SHEILD sees him prioritize. He worked very hard to not give a shit about it, too. But Natasha doesn’t work like that; she’s very particular about her web of information—

His face goes completely slack as the connection finally happens in his mind. He’s going to kill her. No—actually. He’s never going to bring it up, ever, and they’re both going to die before a word ever gets said about it.

That’s just how their brand of family works.

“Yeah. Exactly like how Romanoff has you do it. Pull up her file structure; let’s go over what I’ll need you to change for my end.”

—

“Bitch! It feels like I haven’t hugged you in a year!”

It’s the only warning Ava gets before she’s tackled from behind. She braces her hands on the engineering bench in front of her, barely catching herself from crashing into it. “Two weeks and three days, but who’s counting? How was the flight home, whore?”

Paige leaves a loud, sloppy smooch on her left temple before backing away to let her up from the attack. “That part was fine—it was the team I got paired with, ugh. You’d have hated the guy runnin’ it.”

“How bad are we talking?”

“Eh, your typical good’ ol boy. Mister my way or the highway, with an ego the size’a the fuckin’ Potomac to match. You know the type. Spent the whole mission criticizin’ my tech.”

She looks over at her in surprised confusion. Paige taking shit from other agents is nothing new; that comes with the territory of her personality and most people’s assumptions. Her work is usually the one thing they leave alone. “How critical are we talking?”

“That was the thing—it was the dumb kind. The kind that could’a been avoided if he’d maybe RTFM.”

“And he made it your problem?”

“Over and over. Every ten minutes, it was—” Paige shimmies her upper body dramatically, her voice going low and gravelly. “Why can’t my AIO do this? How do I make it do that? Rogers’ team gets the reliable gear; why are we always stuck with the second rate?”

“He said that to your face?” Ava’s about ready to march through the tower to find the prick herself.

“Not that last one. That was to his buddy when the dipstick thought his comm was off. I got a half-baked publicist apology over it, and I’m pretty sure he only did it to save face in front of the team for leavin’ the mic open.”

“Report his ass.”

Paige waves a hand dismissively, then dumps her go-bag unceremoniously on the workbench. “I ain’t gon’ waste my time. I’ll let him hang his own noose; I’m sure he’ll get around to it with that attitude. Oh! I’ve got a mock-up for your pretty boy.”

Ava smiles, tossing one of her best friend’s rolls of duct tape between her hands. “I didn’t say he was pretty.”

“Puh-lease. You texted about his hair.”

“With the amount of shit man-buns have taken, it was surprising to see on a guy from a less than accepting decade.”

“You only notice stuff like that when you’re lookin’.” Paige tips her head forward, letting her heart-shaped sunglasses fall to the end of her nose. Her eyebrows waggle enthusiastically. “Is he as big as Rogers? I can never tell in the press photos with him always loomin’ like a gargoyle.”

The smile turns deviously smug. “He’s a little smaller than your not-so-secret admirer. You gotta figure that’s expected without the Vita Radiation.”

Paige reaches out to shove at her shoulder. “I don’t think Rogers has really nailed down what modern flirtin’ is yet. Ain’t fair to pin that on the guy. He’s so sweet! And I give him art projects! And anyhow, he rushes outta here like his ass is on fire most of the time—”

“It’s so weird how that happens whenever your dad shows up to hang out.”

She gets a very unimpressed look in response. “You’re readin’ int’a things.”

Leaning in close, Ava squints and whispers, “You’re being oblivious.” She backs up, her smugness returning. “So, I take it our friendship never comes up while you’re giving the captain art projects.”

“I... hmm. Not that I can remember. Why?” Paige looks over suddenly, then back at the bag she’s unloading with more than her usual level of interest. “Did he bring me up durin’ the visit?”

The glitter-sniffing demon not being allowed to communicate with her has been utter hell for two weeks and three days. But it comes with the upside of getting to drop this bomb on her all at once. “No, but I brought you up during Bucky’s first visit. That’s when Rogers realized he’d read your best friend the riot act the week before.”

Paige’s eyes go saucer wide. “You’re kiddin’. You got chewed out by America’s Sweetheart?”

“Funny enough, I called him the same thing while he was huffing and puffing in my office.”

“What the hell happened while I was gone? Did—” Her head swivels around, checking who’s around them. “Did? Y’know?”

Ava shakes her head, then hikes herself up to sit on the workbench next to the bag. “Nothing like that. Turns out he was going for a trial run, trying to see how well I hold up against a bad episode. Stormed into my office, playing up the asshole captain routine just to see what I’d do. Apparently, Tony set him up for it by not telling him about my VA work. He let out the hot air the second I called him on it. He’s pretty cute when he’s blushing, by the way.”

“Oh, tell me about it,” Paige mumbles happily, proving the accusation of obliviousness entirely right.

“The blush or the huffing?”

“I already know about the blushin’, even if I am ready to hear it again. But over dinner tonight. What’re we thinkin’?”

“You’re the one who’s been living off MREs for two weeks. What are you in the mood for?”

“Fuck, that’s a great question. Indian, definitely. No—wait! Sc-ratch that! I want Vietnamese. Actually, I want both.”

“Take-out picnic, got it.”

“And Italian donuts.”

“Okay, but I’m bringing half the order to work tomorrow. They’ll get stale if you pull an all-nighter to catch up.”

“Fiiine. Take my victory donuts to the masses, y’dirty Marxist. Lemme show ya what I worked on for Barnes before I forget.”

The field case she’s designed is cylindrical and shorter than the phones SHEILD issues most of their agents. Definitely something he’s going to be able to carry around with ease. The applicators that hook to the interior are simplistic and utilitarian. They’re entirely mechanical, with no chance of an EMP being able to disable them—a request from the Sergeant himself. 

“Tony says I can requisition some nannies whenever—I just gotta get your signature on the form since they’re medical grade.”

Ava tosses an olive from the jar she keeps stashed in Paige’s mini-fridge into the air. She catches it in her mouth on the first try for once. “You have one filled out already? I can sign it now; I know you like putzing around with them for a few days ahead of time.”

“Eh, it’s a standard cleaner tag; I’m not gon’ sweat it. I know you’re all worried about his brainstem and whatnot—”

“That’s usually part of my job description, yeah.”

“—but I feel like sterile’s sterile. Ain’t no way I can make the man cleaner than clean, y’know? Now, if you wanna talk settin’ ’em up for emergency maintenance, that’s a different story—”

“Your not-crush just walked into engineering,” Ava interrupts lowly, wanting to avoid the enhanced hearing even from way the hell over here.

In the most conspicuous way imaginable, Paige whips her head around to stare directly at the bay’s front entrance. In a rival amount of obviousness, Captain Rogers slowly works his way through the amassed benches, his gaze landing everywhere but Paige’s station. 

Ava’s eyes roll so hard it’s physically painful. It’s been one thing hearing Paige talk about getting drop-in visits from the super soldier who just so happens to enjoy the blueprints framed over her workbench. It’s another to see it play out in person. 

“He’s prob’ly here to check on the kit for Barnes,” Paige whispers back, tugging off her novelty shades.

“Yeah, that’s definitely why he won’t look at you right now—”

“He’s takin’ in the work goin’ on. He’s a curious guy, you know that—”

“And why he’s walking slow enough to trip over his own feet.”

“He’s admirin’ the—”

“He’s working up the nerve—”

“If you don’t fuck off with that, you lunatic—”

“Alright, now you’re being hopeless on purpose—”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Findley. I hope the trip was—oh.” Steve stops dead in his tracks, three feet from Paige’s farthest desk, his eyes finally landing on Ava. He smiles sheepishly. “Hi there, Dr. Ryder.”

Her grin feels positively carnivorous. “Hello, Steve. Come to welcome home our resident space cadet?”

“Hiya, Rogers,” Paige responds, turning with a smile almost as bashful as the captains. She spins back around, busying herself with the mess of wiring she’s pulled from her bag. “Don’t pay her any mind; she’s in a mood.”

“Something happen with the appointment today?” The concern that immediately surfaces knocks some of the teasing out of Ava. 

Some.

“No, Bucky played nice, I promise. I even brought him bagels to make up for being a half-hour late. Come to think of it, that’s probably what made me a half-hour late.”

Steve’s eyes go a bit wider, his smile softening. “You two had breakfast together?”

“I ate mine in the car. He took his with him. But I like to think we did so in spirit.” Her head tilts to the side innocently, refusing to let him off the hook. “So. What brings you to engineering?”

His hand comes up to the back of his neck, his expression getting… close to nonchalant. “I had some time on my hands—don’t wanna run off on a mission with Buck being a grump about medical orders; he might sneak out. Take your time with that, by the way. It’s impossible to convince the guy to take a day off. You’d be doing him a favor if you dragged your feet a little more.”

Using a best friend for deflection is a social skill Ava mastered years ago. He’s going to have to try a lot harder. ���Who wouldn’t want to kill time in engineering? The wrench monkeys get to have all the fun. Maybe you should bring Bucky next time—”

“Oh, that’s—you know, I don’t think that’d be a real—he’s very particular about where he—I think maybe—”

“I think the sergeant would love to meet you,” Ava tells Paige, who’s biting back a grin with her head pointed firmly down at her workbench. “I was telling him some stories about you this morning. I think he might share a few of his own with some time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Paige offers, still not looking up.

Steve lets out a nervous chuckle. “That’s—yeah, it’d—it could help out with his attempts to be social, and—you know. Hey, how was the mission, by the way? I forgot to finish asking.”

“It went just fine.” Paige shrugs, and that’s when it clicks for Ava why she was willing to jump topics so fast. Agent Dickhead really did hurt her feelings.

“Towanda,” Ava says plainly, calmly.

Her best friend’s eyes lift to hers. They stare at each other for a long moment. Paige goes through a silent argument that it’s not worth it; Ava silently insists that it very much is. It all happens through shifting eyebrows.

After a moment, Paige’s shoulders deflate, and she looks back at her work with a sigh. “You do it.”

Looking back up at a confused Steve, Ava crosses her arms over her chest. “You’ve got a real cunt running one of your away teams.”

“Oh, sweet lord,” Paige groans, her head falling into her hands with her elbows braced on the workbench. 

The captain’s eyebrows go for his hairline. “I’m sorry—I have a—I’m going to need a few more details.” He shifts his attention to Paige’s back, and his expression gets worried. “Did something happen? Who was your lead? JARVIS, can you grab me the associated reports on Ms. Findley’s latest away mission—”

“You don’t have’ta do that—“she tries to assure, her head coming up with blazing red cheeks. She hates confrontation. Absolutely despises it. 

Ava used to avoid it. She doesn’t bother much these days. “Actually, your name got thrown into the mix, Captain.” 

“Heeere we go.” Paige takes a deep breath in.

“Thrown into the mix of what?” Steve’s tone is shifting into the sub-zero range. 

“I’m not sure what Agent Fuckwad’s name is, but apparently, the guy thinks it’s not his job to understand his equipment. He also thinks it’s super cool to talk shit about the engineer that designed what he can’t wrap his head around. On an open comm. With her on the other end.”

“I have the mission data ready for transfer to your private feed, Captain Rogers,” JARVIS reports in. Ava doesn’t miss the smugness sitting in his tone, making her smile. She’s betting the AI has been fuming over this in his own way. He’s been protective of Paige ever since her first all-nighters in engineering.

There’s a boiling rage sitting in Steve’s eyes, one that’s rising by the second. When he steps up to tap the side of Paige’s arm with the back of his hand, it’s entirely held back from his voice. “Are you alright with me handling this?”

It’s Ava’s turn to raise her eyebrows in surprise. Extremely pleasant surprise.

“I—oh, fuck me runnin’.” Paige lifts her hand to scrub at her face. “Look, Rogers, I’m not tryin’ to get anyone in trouble here—”

“There are ways to go about this without leaving you holding the bag from a reputation standpoint. If the guy’s a—a... I tried, I’m sorry, I can’t get the word out—the point is, I can handle this in a way that doesn’t blow back on you.”

“Let him do it for the other people the dickwad is going to end up being a cunt to,” Ava suggests helpfully. 

“Exactly,” Steve agrees easily. 

Paige groans, shifting her weight back and forth. Finally, she nods with an uneasy sigh. “Alright. But—maybe just have it be somethin’ found from the logs? I really don’t wanna write up a—”

“Your name won’t come up. I’ll take care of it.”

Ava smiles, tossing another olive to catch in her mouth.

—

September 20th, 2015

Sam balances the plate of sliced sough dough and fresh fruit on top of a can of grape Fanta. He keeps his eyes locked on the way it wobbles back and forth as he makes his way down the hallway of the rented house. Propping the bundle of still-warm linens on his hip, he shimmies his hand off them enough to grab at the handle to Sergeant Miserable’s room.

The sack of personified despair is exactly where they last left him, hunched in on himself in the corner of the room. The pile of blankets under him used to be on the perfectly nice bed sitting in front of the window. The one with an unbelievable view of Finland’s countryside hidden behind tightly drawn curtains.

Their resident vampire, un-fucking-surprisingly, fled from it as fast as he could. Steve’s been grumbling about stealing the curtains while he’s asleep just to force the guy to look out the window on the way to the john.

Sam’s decided to start handling the food deliveries alone. It’s time to start pushing, even if Steve’s not entirely ready for it.

Bucky watches him move through the room, never saying a word. Not even when the plate of food gets put on the nightstand next to the bed, where they always leave it. He leaves them empty outside the door at night, so they know he’s actually eating. Poor bastard never looks angry, more just anguished. 

Sam sits on the side of the bed slowly, as gently as he can. He keeps his posture relaxed, his expression passive, and looks up at the newly freed prisoner of war. “You and I gotta come to an understanding on somethin’.”

Bucky’s eyes start out mostly hidden, thanks to the angle of his head. The shadows consume them entirely as his eyebrows come down. “What.”

One-word answer. That’s good. It’s a verbal day. “We gotta figure out where we’re at. Steve is too close. You’re gonna need someone pushing you on things he can’t. Things you need help with.” 

It’s not a subject he’s brought up with Steve. Being blunt feels like the better option here. He’s guessing the captain’s appeasement is starting to grate on nerves going through this much culture shock. Plus, there’s no pep-talk like a military pep-talk. 

“Do I strike you as an invalid?”

“You might not wanna—we’ll work on that. Point is, you need to start gettin’ comfortable with the new reality. Suck it up, Buttercup, the sky didn’t actually fall. The world’s still spinnin’. None of the big baddies who still know about you have the juice to catch you—”

“No, they don’t,” he confirms aggressively.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, you’re huge and scary. You’re also an idiot sitting around wasting a full pardon. No one’s expecting you to start doing a press circuit. If you wanna walk off into the sunset and go find a picket fence to park your Transylvania routine behind, we’ll help you pack and send you postcards. If you wanna do what Steve did and pick up a life in SHEILD, let’s get you fitted in some Kevlar and find you a therapist. But let’s get you outta this fuckin’ room.”

Bucky’s eyebrows stay firmly set, keeping his eyes shrouded. “Why.”

“Oh my god, could you be more dramatic? Like, shit, if you really tried?” He stands up from the bed, headed for the door, his eyes rolling again. “You wanna know why? Because that’s what people do, Bucky. They hit the ground, they figure out if they’re still breathing, and then they get back up to fix what broke. You keep going for the ones who didn’t survive the landing; because they’d hate your guts if you laid down and died over them. Your friend Steve can tell you all about that if you ever feel like giving the man the time of day. No one’s asking you to do this alone.” 

Sam stops at the door, raising one finger and pointing it back accusingly. “You know what— I’m asking you to go outside long enough for a beer in three days. Besides that, it’s up to you how slow you wanna take this.”

“What’s in three days?” The comment is thrown out on a grumble, right when Sam’s nearly got the door closed.

“My birthday, asshole. I’d like to spend it somewhere outside of this house. And, believe it or not, I’d like you to be there.”

—author end notes—

idk abt other ppls trauma foods, but man when im Goin Through Shit all i can ever stomach is bread and bubbles so, for sure inflicted that on bucko. plums i feel like are His to pick up, y'know?

im putting the idiots in my own couples counseling since im robbing bucky of his best FATWS moment so far (yes it is the wrong about me line ty for asking). i also want it on record that grammarly tried to get me to change "the 30s" to "his 30s" and i had to be like no actually i just jacked our leading man from the restricted section of the smithsonian, thanks tho babe

and now you've met paige!! the storm in a bottle herself!! she gonna smooch the shit outta stevie. gonna try to do our babe peggy proud and have her knock that dweeb off his toes at every turn (not hard). still no clue if ill do a spin-off series for them since they're just background here, but i do know im doing some kinktober stuff for them. they get 10 of the days so far (yeah. yeah, its gonna be 4some territory in the last few days, but have no fear, the main fic((s? series maybe? look man im makin a plan as we go. all i know right now is good space and kinktober)) will stay monogamy focused). so, fans of super mega dirty steve, might wanna Check Back Later for those posts 🥰

[atlanticcanada]

Former N.B. man wins the Golden Ticket, coming home for the holidays

A former Fredericton man now living in Calgary, Alta., will be home for the holidays.

James Morrison was a big contest winner at the gold medal game during the 2022 World Junior Hockey Championships in Edmonton this past summer.

A team from Tourism New Brunswick tossed out dozens of t-shirts into the stands and Morrison was fortunate enough to have the Golden Ticket inside his.

The surprise and thrill of winning the Golden Ticket still hasn't worn off for the hockey fanatic.

“It's funny, my friends who were with me and a couple of kids said, 'you're usually a pretty quiet guy and that's the most excited I've ever seen you,'” said Morrison from his home in Calgary.

“I've coached those three kids for a while and they were pretty excited for me. I think it was just the realization of winning a trip and getting to go home and seeing my family again.”

Morrison received a prize worth $12,000 that includes a flight to Moncton, N.B., a hotel stay, a car rental and tickets to three consecutive games at the 2023 championship.

Better still, Morrison and his 10-year-old son will get to see his parents and two siblings who live in Fredericton.

“I've won a free lottery ticket every now and then on Lotto 6/49, but nothing to this magnitude,” he said.

Being a co-host for this year's junior championship was an opportunity for Tourism New Brunswick to put the province on the map during the international event in Edmonton.

Katie Kohler, the director of strategic marketing at Tourism New Brunswick, said the tournament in Edmonton was an amazing opportunity to leverage the spotlight of the championship in Moncton.

“We had the Hopewell Rocks projected on the ice. We shot t-shirt cannons and we threw t-shirts all around the audience until one lucky winner, who just happened to be from New Brunswick, won that Golden Ticket and a chance to come home,” said Kohler.

So, what is Morrison looking forward to the most? Seeing his family, or going to the games?

“Tough question because I'm sure my mom is going to see this,” laughed Morrison. “We'll love to see the family and then of course my son and I can watch hockey all day long. Some days we have three games and he'll watch it, analyze it and learn from it. Between the family and the friends, it's tough to choose between the two.”

The tournament starts in Moncton and Halifax on Dec. 26 and runs until Jan. 5.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/h5IV9E4

[annamaxwell-girlinnovators]

Week 9 - Supernatural Girls

1. What are your thoughts on the evolution of depictions of Supernatural Powers in young women?

There’s a long history of associating witches with female power. “Sabrina the Teenage Witch” was one of my favorite shows growing up - I loved the idea of wagging my finger to get dressed in the morning or having my cat talk to me. Sabrina Spellman, while still hexing boys and making the mean girls throw up frogs, her worries were still genuine. When she stood up for free speech against her tyrannical teacher, when her friends accepted her despite her being different, or when she fought against institutional sexism, we can recognize issues that continue to have significance for us. But, really, in the end, the fact that she had to face these problems is no less absurd than the linen cupboard which transported her to “the other realm.” Following Sabrina as an icon in my life came Hermonie - one of the most potent feminist witches in literature. She defies certain literary tropes that articulate the role girls should play in boys’ lives, both on and off the page - Ron and Harry turn to her for guidance, and she becomes one of the most powerful witches at Hogwarts. Since the 90s, the evolution of Supernatural Powers in young women has only gotten more positive. Shows such as “Stranger Things,” with Eleven escaping the oppression of Papa to save Hawkins, put depictions of earlier supernatural women - such as “I Dream of Jeannie,” a show about an enslaved, sexualized wish granter, to even greater shame.

2. How is magical power related to adolescence?

Many times, magical powers are revealed to characters in their adolescence - Harry at 12, Sabrina at 16 - or even have magical encounters when they are children - Wendy in Neverland, James in his peach; this list goes on. Children happily accept impossible explanations for many phenomena. It is often thought of as a gift to see the world with childlike wonderment, but eventually, we are supposed to grow up. And most of us like to believe that as adults, our opinions, understanding or attitudes are grounded in solid realistic principles. However, most adults will hold on to their favorite magical thinking quirks and/or quickly fall back on magical thinking – especially in times of high emotion/stress or were clear links are challenging to elucidate. Reading your horoscope, buying a lotto ticket in times of financial stress, crossing your fingers when you really want a particular outcome, or using denial as a coping mechanism when the reality is just too awful to face - adults still want to participate in magical thinking. Magical powers are typically depicted in adolescence because of their ability to find hope while others don't. Magic can help a person choose to see the positive things in life, regardless of difficulties and challenges, something children tend to do better than adults.

3. What impact does the depiction of magic and its sense of agency have on real girls and young women in this era of emerging teenage girl leadership?

Witches represent a form of feminine influence that denies the masculine establishment. Stories of women having power and agency are now being celebrated more, much as we are becoming more empowered to take a stand in leadership. The transformation of the representation of magic in women and girls throughout the 20th century into the present day is a viable lens through which to view the feminist movement and its development over time. As the media views these women in a more powerful light, we can consider it an encouragement to forge forward, just as these characters do.

4. Are you aware of additional girl icons with magical powers? Please share in your post with images.

“Coven”, the third season of a famous American TV series, “American Horror Story,” follows 21st-century witches descended from Salem as they struggle for expression and equality against a world dedicated to their oppression. The show accesses the subdivisions of the feminist struggle, which includes racial divides, maternal struggle, and the battle for the old ways to resist those of the new. The girls use their powers to defeat rapists, dismissing men as the weaker sex, unapologetically turning the gender gap upside down and with verve.  “Coven” is determined to break the girls out and put their powers in public view, in encouraging the girls to wear black and hone their skills, spoiling for a showdown with a world of adversaries. The show puts spellcasters front and center with several amazing actors, which makes the season one of my favorites.

[shauntaakerainbowdiamondsnatural]

shauntaake / more phauts comang soon (rainbows) shauntaake computer out of service right now

shauntaake rainbow diamonds 4 carat vvs 1 color d (rainbow diamonds) (real/lab)

($12,000 goal)

startang shauntaake aucton bid's at: $2,120 - one earring = 1 piece $2,120 $4,240 - set of earrings = 2 piece's

the name of these diamonds are called (vvs 1) diamonds & the color clarity - (d) vvs are the finest diamonds to ever come from the earth & to be manifest by hand

shauntaake wll lotto shauntaake first set of clients $8,000

$4,000 one earring = 1 piece

$4,000

$8,000 - set of earrings = 2 pair

shauntaake first 20 customers u have the right to resale your earrings for whatever price u want shauntaake just gonna try to get these earrings here safely from overseas & their sayang their (limited)

shauntaake say rock rocks wit shauntaake now cause when shauntaake get shauntaake jewellry store allllllll of shauntaake jewellry price's are gonna be on a whole nuthaa luxury level like the major jewellers & jewellry store's shauntaake play fair

shauntaake just lettang u all know shauntaake wear shauntaake jewellry everywhere shauntaake go shauntaake treasures shauntaake restart of treasure shauntaake u see hw the first king & pharaohs walk around wit millions of dollars of diamonds gems & gold on them shauntaake one of those good for the devil/shauntaake/soul

shauntaake always online readang & doang research mostly details & informaton research & shauntaake see that natural diamonds are double & tripple the price of lab diamonds & lab diamonds are also expensive

shauntaake in aw shauntaake was just online doang research on 4 carat lab diamonds & james allen have a 4 carat diamond vs1 color g online right now for $19,000 real/lab that's hw pretty ths diamond is were gonna say that's the price shauntaake pay for shauntaake 4 carat diamond earrings & shauntaake gonna do a shauntaake aucton cause shauntaake not interest in someone else makang a fortune off of shauntaake treasure's aftaa shauntaake sell a piece of shauntaake treasures to them

james allen.com/loose-diamonds/round-cut/4.00-carat-g-color-vs1-clarity-ideal-cut-sku-1

shauntaake / ths the first shauntaake ever handeled a real 4 carat diamond or even seen one up close the largest diamonds shauntaake seen in shauntaake partners circles was at least 2 carat diamondssssssssssssss

shauntaake / these diamonds are comang from overseas & they take like a month to get to u feel's like forever these diamonds wll have u feanang for these diamonds some ppl are sayang they dont get to them the order does'nt fully go thru for some of them shauntaake online & callang arpund doang shauntaake own research real diamond dealers & auctoners are leavang messages on shauntaake phone tryang to get shauntaake to sell shauntaake natural diamonds & shauntaake learnang that their are a laut of jewellers & stores that are sellang real/lab diamonds all over the world as well but most of them dont purchase them bak so ths is why shauntaake trynna give u that opportunity to get at least half of your money bak if u purchase shauntaake rainbow diamonds (natural diamonds) & (real/lab diamonds) shauntaake wll give u bak yiur values worth of these diamonds cause ths diamond company sent shauntaake the reciept of these diamonds real value worth excellent but ths is anuthaa reason why some ppl say they dont purchase real/lab cause they cant get their money bak like natural diamonds ppl are sayang when u make a real/lab diamonds purchase u are choosang to keep your real/lab diamonds forever everywhere in the world that sell's real natural diamonds u wll alwaysssssssssss be able to get bak most of your money bak everywhere in the world so shauntaake makang ths anuthaa shauntaake job to guarantee u that u could get half of your money bak wit (natural diamomds) & (real/lab diamonds)

shauntaake / it's gonna take these diamond earrings 1 month to get these to u but their well worth it u'll understand once u recieve & get them in your hands love at first sight shauntaake love beautiful thangs

shauntaake / it is a couple of diamond company's that purchase lab diamonds u just have make your meetang oppoinments to meet wit them or u could send your diamonds to them thru the mail it's your choice but u have to do your own research

[mycryptosuite]

Live Luck-G Lotto 2-Sure - 2 Sure Today

Live Luck-G Lotto 2-Sure – 2 Sure Today

Live Luck-G Lotto 2-Sure – 2 Sure Today Live luck-g lotto 2-sure is our watch-out name for today’s Ghana lotto game – 2 sure lotto numbers for today for today lucky-g lotto live forecast. Ghana lucky lotto forecaster did very well today to give us the best forecast of this week so far and we are very greatful for that gesture. (more…)

[andrewmoocow]

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 21: Playdate (originally posted on August 2, 2021)

AN: After that really long chapter last week, time for something that's hopefully a lot shorter. And as I write this, I finally saw Space Jam: A New Legacy in theaters, which was a lot of stupid fun in my opinion, so I might have a lot to work with in terms of basketball stuff here. But enough about the movies I've seen, let's see how Spinel is doing.

Synopsis: Spinel comes to Earth to have fun the human way.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven

Sarah Stiles as Spinel

Patti LuPone as Yellow Diamond

Jim Conroy as Radio announcer

Jeff Bennett as Fanny pack seller

Tom Kenny as Pepe's Burgers cashier

Daran Norris as Basketball Commentator

Kari Wahlgren, Eden Riegel, Erica Lindbeck & Grey DeLisle as Empire City Vipers cheerleaders

Neil Flynn as The Officer

Featuring Hugh Jackman as Beckham Jordan

James Monroe Iglehart as Coach Matt Monroe

Karen Fukuhara as Makoto Fuji

Jeff Bergman as Ben "Bugs" Avery, Referee

Michelle Creber as Chloe

Kacey Musgraves as Yvonne

And Rhiannon Giddens as Herself

--

One afternoon in Beach City, Steven was once again left alone in the beach house. However, there thankfully was no sociopathic Rutiles wanting to break in and gaslight him into turning against his friends today. Instead, he stood in his room while gazing at a sign that said "Days since Turning Pink" hanging on his wall, with a blank spot that had the number 3 written on it.

"Wow, three days since my last outburst." Steven congratulated himself before patting his shoulder. "Good job Steven, making real progress." However, his pride soon turned into worry as he began contemplating how long it would take before he would explode again. "At least, for now."

Suddenly, Steven heard a loud rumbling sound coming from outside that made everything in his room shake, and he raced outside to find a massive yellow arm descending from the skies and heading straight for him. "Yellow?"

The arm immediately stopped itself before turning over and opening its palm, allowing Yellow Diamond to emerge with her arms folded behind her back and a genial smile on her face. "Good day to you Steven." The Diamond greeted Steven. "I suppose you're probably wondering why I come here today."

"If you're asking for any of the Gems, I don't think they can come today." Steven answered. "They're on the hunt for Black Rutile's current whereabouts, but every time they think they found her, she's always one step ahead of them."

"Everyone on Homeworld is still doing their part to quell her uprising," Yellow responded. "but one of us just wants to see you again." Once Yellow finished speaking, a pink and white blur bounced up from behind her and tackled Steven to the ground.

"Steven!" Spinel cried, wrapping Steven into a tight hug. "It's been so long! How you been buddy?!"

"I'm doing good Spinel." Steven laughed nervously, both at once again hiding everything he's been through recently and at how the last time Spinel's been on Earth, she nearly destroyed it, before disentangling himself from the stretchy Gem's embrace. "So, how have things been going for you on Homeworld? The Diamonds treating you okay?"

"Oh, it's fine Steven, no need to worry!" Spinel assured Steven. "Sure, they do coddle me a bit, but I'm overall livin' the dream there! I get to meet so many new Gems, learn about everything that's happened while I was stuck in the garden, and I also get to use Pink's old room! But I thought it would be nice to get a real taste of Earth without, y'know, trying to destroy it because I was left behind."

"I figured that since I'll be busy all day searching for more Gems allied with Black Rutile, Spinel could use what you humans call a babysitter." Yellow stated. "Would you be willing to watch over her here?"

"Sure, it'd be nice to catch up with Spinel." Steven agreed to the offer before he got an idea. "Hey, I got an idea. Why don't I take you to Empire City?" he asked Spinel. "It's an Earth city not too far from here, and I think you'd really like the sights there."

"Wow, a new place?!" Spinel cheered. "That'd be so much fun!"

"Yes, that would be delightful." Yellow smiled before she retreated into her ship. "Now I'll be back by nightfall, so do come back by then."

"Bye Yellow!" Spinel waved the Diamond goodbye as it flew away from Earth. "So, when can we leave Steven?"

"We can leave right now if you want," Steven answered. "I just gotta get ready first."

"Yay!" Spinel cheered.

--

A few minutes later, Steven led Spinel into the Dondai Supremo and drove away from Beach City to Empire City, and Spinel was super excited to get there.

"Are we there yet?" Spinel asked.

"No." Steven laughed.

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"How about I turn on the radio to pass the time?" Steven offered before adjusting the dials on the car radio.

"-nd that was Royalty with My Lord." The radio announcer declared. "And coming up next on 13.2 "The Band", we got Rhiannon Giddens with her hit single Wandering Roads!"

"Wandering roads that carry me home, lead me through both right and wrong." Rhiannon Giddens sang over the radio. "I may love and I may lose, still I know I'll always choose."

"What kinda music is this?" Spinel asked Steven while the song continued.

"This is what humans call country music." Steven answered. "Not a lot of people like it very much."

"Well, I like it." Spinel said before she began to sing along with Rhiannon. "Since the day that you were born, footsteps fall on a path well-worn. Strings that pull, you'll never see. Chains that bind you, set you free. All on your journey home."

"I thought you'd like it." Steven chuckled at the singing Gem as they passed a sign saying "Now entering Jersey", signifying that their long journey to Empire City was almost at an end. "Hey, wanna head to a rest stop?"

"Do I?!" Spinel took a break from singing to answer Steven's question. "Uh, what's a rest stop?"

"That's a rest stop." Steven pointed to a rest area that he pulled the car into before the two got out. "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom, be back soon."

"Sounds good to me." Spinel agreed as she leaned against the Supremo while Steven walked away to the restroom. Although the pink Gem obediently stayed behind at the car, her curiosity of the world around her got the better of her and Spinel decided to look around the rest stop.

Touring the oasis around her, Spinel could see many humans milling about the establishment. Some came alone, while others had friends, family, or both to spend time with at the included restaurants, arcades, and gift shops. And there was one item at the gift shop that caught her eye.

"Find something you like little girl?" the burly gift shop owner with a massive blonde pompadour asked Spinel while she gazed at his inventory.

"Yeah, what's that supposed to be?" Spinel inquired, pointing at a white bag with red heart designs in front of her.

"That fanny pack?" the salesman replied. "It can be yours for only $14.99."

"Sorry pal, I don't have any of that." Spinel declared. "What else can I use to get it?"

"You got a credit card?" the seller asked, and Spinel shook her head. "Check?" Spinel shook her head again. "Lotto ticket?" Again. "Any possessions you can trade me?"

"Still no." Spinel admitted. "I barely know what you're talking about, I just want that bag."

Just then, Steven finally emerged from the rest stop bathroom and found Spinel conversing with the gift shop owner, so he walked up to the pair to see what's going on. "Anything the matter here?"

"I want this thing, but I don't got any of what this guy's talking about!" Spinel explained while sticking a thumb out to the seller and the fanny pack.

"She some kinda hobo?" the seller asked Steven.

"No, she's just an alien with barely any knowledge about our Earth currency." Steven said while pulling out his wallet. "How much for the fanny pack?"

"$14.99." the seller answered, and Steven replied by handing him fifteen dollars. "Thank you kid, here's your butt sack."

"Hehe, butt sack!" Spinel giggled at the name of her new fanny pack while she put it on around her waist. "So what do you think Steven," she asked Steven while showing off her new accessory by swinging her hips. "do I make this look good or what?"

"Yeah, it really suits you." Steven answered before the two began walking back to the Dondai Supremo. "But why do you want that?"

"I just thought the butt sack looked cool." Spinel answered. "Plus, that's what I'm calling it from now on, my butt sack."

"Aside from looking cool, the butt sack can also be really useful." Steven said while turning on the car and driving away from the rest stop. "It's basically a bag, but you wear it around your waist so you can carry stuff while keeping your hands free."

"Sounds neat!" Spinel exclaimed. "So, how much longer till Empire City?"

"Not too long." Steven answered while checking the map between Beach and Empire City on his phone. "The trip usually takes around three hours, so we can find ways to spend the time until we get there."

"Then what are we waiting for?! Let's have some fun!" Spinel declared before she switched on the radio to a country music channel and began singing along, and Steven soon joined in.

--

A few hours later, Steven and Spinel finally arrived in Empire City. The metropolis itself was utterly mindblowing to Spinel, as she saw seemingly endless skyscrapers outside the window and all sorts of humans wandering the streets. Some looked a little like Steven, and others were completely different.

"So this is Empire City?" Spinel asked Steven while he parked the car.

"You bet it is." Steven declared before the two got out. "We're currently in one of its boroughs, Brooklyn. Here you'll find Coney Island, the House of Yes, DUMBO, and many more." He said while gazing at his phone to look up things to do during their trip. "Where do you want to go first?"

"I wanna go to that Coney Island place." Spinel answered as she gazed over Steven's shoulder at his phone. "Are there actual cones there?"

"No, it's only one of the most famous amusement parks in the world!" Steven declared. "I think you'd like it there. Besides, it's only a forty-minute drive."

"Aw, another drive?! But we just got here!" Spinel complained before the two got back in the Supremo.

"Oh, don't get so down," Steven assured as he started the car again and set off for Coney Island. "The journey will surely be worth it."

--

And indeed, the journey was worth it. As soon as the two reached Coney Island and Steven paid for admission into one of the amusement parks, Spinel raced in to try out as many rides & games as she could and won as many prizes as she could fit into her new fanny bag, and Steven indulged in her excitement all the way.

Unfortunately for Spinel, the fun could only last for so long and the pair had to leave to see some of the other sights of Empire City, but she still found it all worth it for all the fun she had at Coney Island.

Steven and Spinel's tour of Empire City soon took them to the Bowery, where Steven decided that they should take a break to eat at Pepe's Burgers, the same restaurant that used one of Greg's songs in their commercials which made him a millionaire.

"Here you go miss, five triple-decker cheeseburgers and two large fries." The cashier announced while handing Spinel five large burgers & two packs of French fries that she happily took away from the counter and back to the table where Steven was sitting.

"Thank you so much for taking me out Steven," Spinel said gratefully while stuffing her mouth full of burgers and tenderly stroking a stuffed rabbit poking out of her fanny pack. "this is the most fun I've ever had in thousands of years!"

"You're very welcome Spinel." Steven smiled happily. "I'm glad you're having fun here, but me? I'm getting kind of tired. We should probably head back to Beach City soon."

"Geez, no need to be a buzzkill." Spinel complained again while eating another cheeseburger. "But then again, we never did something you wanted to do, this has been all about me today. What do you think we should do next?"

"WEDNESDAY, WEDNESDAY, WEDNESDAY!" an announcer on a television behind the duo yelled, taking them by surprise. "Hey you, sitting down! You on a trip with a friend and they ask what you want to do?!"

"Why, yes!" Steven answered. "That's a little convenient."

"Well, I know what you're going to do today!" the television continued before cutting to an aerial shot of a massive basketball stadium, the sight of which made Steven excited. "Come on down to Maramba Stadium, home to the Empire City Vipers where they'll be playing their most important game this season! It's ECV versus the Keystone Coyotes! Be there, be there, be there!"

"The Vipers, that's it!" Steven realized happily and burst from his seat. "Come on Spinel, let's go see the Empire City Vipers!"

"YEAH!" Spinel exclaimed as she jumped out after Steven. "Uh, who are the Vipers?"

"The Empire City Vipers are my favorite basketball team ever!" Steven explained while pulling out his wallet to show off a basketball card depicting a middle-aged man with large sideburns dribbling on the court. "Their star player is one of my heroes, Beckham "Muttonchops" Jordan!"

"Nice hair." Spinel commented on Beckham's trademark sideburns.

"Come on, let's go!" Steven said while taking Spinel's hand, but the game would have to wait.

"Hold on a second kid!" the cashier stopped Steven and Spinel in their tracks. "You still need to pay for your meal."

"Sorry sir, got a little excited." Steven apologized as he took some money and left it at the table before getting back to racing out of the restaurant.

--

"Ladies, gentlemen, and everything in-between, welcome to the grand playoffs between Empire City and Keystone!" a basketball commentator announced at Maramba Stadium, where dozens of excited fans gathered to watch the epic basketball game, Steven and Spinel included. "We're bound to have a good day today folks, so without further ado, your starting line-up for the Empire City Vipers!"

First off was a young man in a blue and yellow basketball uniform with a smug grin on his face who strolled into the arena with a stride in his step. "BEN "BUGS" AVERY!"

Next up was an excitable dark-skinned fellow who put up peace signs for his adoring fans. "DANIEL "DAFFY" JONES!"

A stout and meek man was up next, giving a polite wave to the spectators. "PERCY "PORKY" FRELENG!"

A much skinner guy was up next, excitedly jogging in place with his tongue out. "RORY "THE RUNNER" MCKIMSON!"

Finally, a much taller, hairier, and more muscular man emerged from the corner to join his teammates on the court, waving to the fans along the way. "AND FINALLY, THE MAN HIMSELF! HIS ROYAL SLAM-JESTY, BECKHAM "MUTTONCHOPS" JORDAN!"

"MUTTONCHOPS! MUTTONCHOPS! MUTTONCHOPS!" the crowds began cheering for Beckham Jordan as the Empire City Vipers took their places on the court, standing face to face with their rivals from Keystone. Although Steven was joining in on the chanting, Spinel was left completely lost.

"I don't get it. What's so appealing about this?" Spinel asked out loud. "What is it about these guys that makes everyone so excited?"

"It's the intensity of the game that gets everyone on the edge of their seats Spinel." Steven replied as the big game began. "Two teams of five players compete to see who can score the most points by dunking the ball into either team's hoop."

"So that's it, just throwing a ball around?" Spinel muttered. "Puh-lease, I did the exact same thing with Pink, and there weren't thousands of humans to watch me!"

"You'll learn to like it Spinel, I'm sure of it." Steven assured his mom's old best friend while the game continued, and Beckham quickly scored a point for the Vipers. "WOO, GO BECKHAM!"

As the game went on, Steven and Spinel's reactions were as different as night and day. While Steven continued cheering on his favorite player, Spinel just watched with a mild interest in the event while stroking the head of the stuffed bunny in her fanny pack. "Hey, I got a question. What's with all the funny names these players have?"

"Those are all nicknames Spinel." Steven explained once again. "For example, The Runner gets his name because he's so fast on the court, Daffy is absolutely unpredictable, and Bugs really likes getting under his opponents' skins."

Down below in the grand game between the Vipers and the Coyotes, Bugs Avery demonstrated just how annoying he could be to his rivals while snatching the ball out of an enemy player's hands. "Gotcha doc!"

"Hey, that's my ball!" the Charm City Coyotes' power forward bellowed.

"No, it ain't!" Bugs sneered.

"Yes, it is!" the other player yelled.

"No, it ain't!"

"Yes, it is!"

"No, it ain't!"

"No, it ain't!"

"Yes, it is!" Bugs declared.

"No, it ain't!" the enemy player said before he suddenly realized that Bugs had played him for a fool. "Wait, what?!"

"And Bugs employs his classic reverse psychology!" the commentator declared as Bugs made a bank shot, scoring a point for the Vipers. "How despicable!"

"That's Bugs's signature move!" Steven exclaimed. "He doesn't even need to use his hands for that one, just a little way with words!"

Just then, a horn sounded as the score was displayed as 25 for the Vipers and 15 for the Coyotes, and below it was a sign declaring "HALFTIME!"

"I say, I say, time out!" the referee exclaimed while forming his hands into a T.

"Looks like we got halftime, folks!" the announcer boomed while the players stopped what they were doing and returned to their respective locker rooms. "Let's allow our stars to relax for a bit while taking a moment for the ECV cheer squad to take the stage!"

As soon as both basketball teams left the court, a group of young women in midriff-baring tops bearing the colors of the Vipers & blue skirts holding matching-colored pom-poms marched out onto the court and got ready to perform.

"Ready?" the head cheerleader, an olive-skinned Asian woman with spiky red hair in a high ponytail asked her squadmates.

"OKAY!" the other cheerleaders yelled as they began to dance. "Come on Vipers, you can't miss! Show them how you really hiss! Just like a rattlesnake, you know how to make them shake!"

"What are those humans doing?" Spinel gasped in amazement at the cheerleaders as they started stacking themselves into a pyramid.

"That's just the Empire City Vipers' cheerleading team," Steven said. "They're really good at pumping up the crowd."

"Please, I can do better!" Spinel boasted before she took off her fanny pack. "Hold my butt sack." Spinel then started glowing and changed her attire to be an exact copy of the cheerleaders' uniform, though with her heart-shaped gem in place of the ECW on the top, while tying her hair into a heart-shaped ponytail. "How do I look?"

"Uh…." Steven muttered confusedly while Spinel struck a few poses in her makeshift cheerleading costume before she bounced away. "Spinel, wait!" Steven called out to the elastic Gem as Spinel took over the cheer squad's pyramid while turning her hands into pom-poms.

"WOO, GO VIPERS!" Spinel yelled as she stood on top of the head cheerleader at the tip of the pyramid, making everyone go deathly silent. "Hey, come on guys! You all love the Vipers, don'tcha?"

"Who's this chick?" one of the cheerleaders at the bottom of the pyramid whispered to another.

"I think she jumped out of the audience." The other cheerleader replied.

"Okay girls, let me down." The head cheerleader commanded her squadmates to carefully carry her down the pyramid and back onto the floor. "Megaphone." She then asked for a bullhorn to speak into. "Will whoever's watching over this stretchy pink girl please come down to pick her up?"

"Spinel!" Steven facepalmed at Spinel's disruption and got up from his seat. "Excuse me, you guys." He apologized to the spectators he sat between before hopping up in the air and hovering over to the court.

"WITCHCRAFT!" one audience member yelled, inciting mutters of shock and amazement at Steven's abilities as he landed next to Spinel, and some even took out their phones to record.

"Spinel, did you really have to do that?" Steven groaned exasperatedly at the pink Gem, who was looking very apologetic. "You just made a big scene all because you just wanted to show off!"

"I'm sowwy Steven!" Spinel apologized while sounding like a little kid. "I thought we were gonna have fun here!"

"I'm sorry too Spinel," Steven replied. "But-"

"Something the matter here?" the voice of a black man wearing a T-shirt bearing the colors of the Vipers asked as he stepped out into the court with Beckham Jordan.

"Hey Monroe, this girl here just hijacked our routine." The Vipers' head cheerleader said, gesturing to Spinel.

"And I see she's got a friend, Makoto." Beckham Jordan replied as he turned his attention to Steven & Spinel, the former left to gasp and gape in utter shock at his favorite basketball player looking right at him. "Something the matter, sport?"

"Sorry, he's a real big fan." Spinel laughed before slapping Steven in the face, bringing him back to reality.

"Thanks Spinel." Steven said gratefully before his jaw dropped again at the sight of Beckham. "Beckham Jordan is talking to me?!"

"Yes, Beckham Jordan is indeed talking to you." The star player of the Vipers beamed. "This is our coach, Matt Monroe." He then introduced the black man. "And I suppose you're familiar with my good friend here, head Vipers cheerleader Makoto Fuji."

"Nice to meetcha, I'm Spinel!" Spinel introduced herself by shaking Beckham's hand and giving him a big kiss that covered most of his head. "And this is my buddy, Steven! Say hi Steven!"

"Uh, uh, hi." Steven sheepishly greeted his Royal Slam-Jesty.

"Looks like lil' flyboy here's a bit starstruck." The commentator pointed out. "Anyone got anything to say or are we just gonna keep up the silent treatment?"

"Come on boy, say something ya big shnook!" the referee called out to Steven, giving him the courage to properly speak to his basketball idol.

"My name's Steven Universe." Steven introduced himself to Beckham. "I'm a super huge fan of you Mr. Jordan, loved you ever since I watched you with my dad on TV back in 2006, I think."

"Ah yes, the good ol' Jayhawk Pussycats." Beckham declared nostalgically. "Nice place, Jayhawk was. If you're ever in the area, come on down to a little place called Los Pollos Hermanos and tell 'em Beckham sent ya."

"So, are we in trouble?" Spinel nervously asked.

"Naw, it's okay girlie." Matt chuckled deeply. "This ain't the first time it happened this season."

"I still recall when we had to call security on that girl." Makoto added. "Though we did give her a free uniform as compensation."

"Hey, I got an idea." Beckham stated. "Steven, why don't you and Spinel come on over to my place after the game so we can shoot some hoops together?"

"Me, play against you?!" Steven gasped excitedly. "It would be an honor, Mr. Jordan!"

"Pleasure's all mine, little guy." Beckham replied gratefully. "And please, just call me Beck."

"Well, that was certainly the weirdest halftime we've gotten this season!" the announcer boomed over the speakers as Steven and Spinel returned to their seats and Beckham to the locker room. "Not only did we get another cheerleader hijacking, but a flying Beckham fanboy too, and a lucky one at that!"

"You still mad about what just happened?" Spinel asked remorsefully.

"It's alright Spinel." Steven laughed. "Besides, thanks to you, I'm gonna play with Beckham Jordan and see his penthouse!" he added before giving Spinel a big hug. "Thanks so much!"

"No prob Bob." Spinel replied just as happily while wrapping Steven in her extendable arms while the game started back up.

--

Eventually, the big basketball game ended with the Empire City Vipers winning against the Charm City 55-49, to the delight of their fans. As soon as Beckham Jordan, Matt Monroe, and Makoto Fuji left the stadium with Steven & Spinel in tow, a limousine was there to drive the five away from Maramba Stadium to their destination at Beckham's penthouse.

"Well, here we are you two." Beckham, now having switched his uniform for a T-shirt & jeans, announced as they got off the elevator at an opulent apartment building and he turned on the lights, revealing a grand living room before them all. "Welcome to my pad and our favorite hangout spot."

"Like what you see?" Makoto, now clad in a burgundy sports bra underneath a tank top with a picture of a dancing frog holding a top hat & cane and some spandex shorts, asked the pair.

"Like it? I love it!" Steven exclaimed while looking around at the big screen TV, massive couch, refined kitchen, an entrance to what he assumed to be Beck's training court, and many, many posters depicting his accomplishments, including one featuring Dogcopter that caught his eye. "Wait, is that the Vipers vs Dogcopter movie?!"

"Yeah, good ol' basically a commercial for my line of sneakers." Beck answered. "I was young and needed the money, but I still had a fun time nonetheless." He then motioned towards a picture of himself shaking hands with a man in a suit who was pointing at Beck with a cheerful smile. "And this is me with Secretary of Health Benjamin Rouleau. Real talkative fellow, he was."

"Protein shake?" Makoto offered while getting some milk from the fridge.

"I'll take one!" Spinel accepted. "Gems don't need to eat, but I'd sure like to."

"Don't need to eat?" Makoto gasped after pouring the milk in a blender and turning to get some more ingredients for the shake like fruit, yogurt, and peanut butter. "Wow, sometimes I wish I didn't need to eat either so I wouldn't hog all the snacks!"

"So, a Gem, eh?" Matt asked while fishing a diamond ring from his pocket. "You mean like this?"

However, the sight of the ring made Spinel very confused and start questioning everything. "Uh, where did you get that?"

"I think it's best we don't ask any questions Spinel." Steven declared just as nervously as he sat Spinel down on the couch. "But to answer your question, Gems are not entirely like your jewelry. They're immortal light-based beings that come in pretty much every color you can think of. Their powers depend on what kind of Gem they are. Like for example, Spinel can stretch her body and bounce around since she was made to be a playmate for my mom."

"And I'm going to assume your mom was a Gem too?" Matt asked while sitting down next to their two new friends as Makoto served the shakes.

"Yeah, she was one of the rulers of all Gems, the Diamonds." Steven continued explaining to the trio. "However, she got tired of her life, combined with being mistreated by her fellow Diamonds, so she disguised as another Gem, faked her death, and started a war."

"And left me behind in the process." Spinel added sadly, eliciting feelings of sympathy and curiosity. "I was made to be Pink's best friend, but she started getting sick of me after she got her own colony, which was Earth by the way, until one day she left me in this garden we played in for the next six thousand years while she went off fighting wars to protect Earth. Then when Steven made his little message to the universe, it happened to reach me and really set me off, causing me to come down with a massive Injector to try and poison Earth."

"Parent issues, huh?" Beckham said while placing a hand on Spinel's shoulder. "Kinda reminds me of my relationship with my dad. Well, minus the whole wanting to destroy Earth because you were made about being left stranded for thousands of years thing. He was really harsh on me, sometimes even a little too harsh. I turned to basketball to vent my frustrations, and with help from friends I made over the years," Beck then pointed to Makoto & Matt, who grinned happily. "I was able to turn that anger around and make myself a legend. Just goes to show no matter how garbage your life is, you can get back up no matter what."

"Wow, neat story." Steven said while sipping his protein shake.

"Indeed," Matt replied before hugging Beck from the side. "Beck and I have been thick as thieves ever since he was starting out."

"And I first met him when I wasn't even team captain of the Vipers cheer squad." Makoto added. "I was super awkward and unsure I even had a future in cheerleading, but Jordan was there to pick me up and help me become a superstar."

"But enough about us, let's get to why you wanted to be here." Beck emerged from the warm embrace of his two friends to point at Steven. "You still ready to shoot some hoops?"

"You bet I do!" Steven answered, dramatically slamming his almost empty drink on the table in front of them before turning to Spinel. "And you and Makoto can cheer from the sidelines Spinel, without interrupting anything."

"Sounds good to me!" Spinel cheered as she assumed her cheerleader outfit once again and bounced on over to Beck's personal court.

--

"This is going to be so much fun." Makoto said while doing some stretches to limber herself up as Steven and Beck took their places on Beck's training court.

"Let's see if you can bend as much as I can, sweetie." Spinel taunted good-naturedly.

"I got some frequently washed yoga pants that'll prove you wrong." Makoto replied.

"Okay ladies, focus on the real competition here." Matt chuckled while getting between Steven and Beck. "Y'all ready for this, boys?"

"I'm so ready!" Steven answered.

"Just give it your all, Steven." Beck told his young fan.

"Now let's slam!" Matt declared before blowing his whistle, cuing the game to start. Steven gunned for the ball first and dribbled it to the basket on the left side of the court, scoring him a point.

"WOO, GO STEVEN!" Spinel cheered while waving her pom-pom hands around.

"Come on Jordan, you can beat him!" Makoto yelled, raising her pom-poms in the air, causing the two to glare at each other.

"Please, I can cheer better!" Spinel bragged to Makoto.

"Wanna bet?" the cheerleader challenged the Gem and pulled her phone from her gym bag to play some music.

"Go go Steven, you're the man! If you can't do it, who else can?!" Spinel began singing while Steven scored another point. "Beckham is still pretty neat, but my pal Steven can't be beat!"

"Come on Beckham, you can do it! You're so good, there's nothing to it!" Makoto began swaying her toned body to the beat as Beckham scored for the first time. "Steven may be your biggest fan, but to me, you are the man!"

"What makes you think he can win this? You are sadly mistaken, miss!" the two began harmonizing. "We could cheer till the end of the night, hope you're ready for a fight song fight!"

"Nice music girls!" Steven called out to the cheerleaders, allowing Beckham to catch him off guard and steal the ball away to score a point.

"Too slow Steven!" Beckham laughed.

"Two to two, gang!" Matt called out. "We're at a tie here, but let's see who can turn this around!"

"Jordan's been doing this for years, and I've been there to give him cheers!" Makoto continued singing as Beckham scored his third point. "Your friend is pretty good little bud, but he ain't got the sweat, tears, and blood!"

"Well cutie-pie, you're dead wrong! Allow me to end this song," Spinel replied while Steven scored his third point as well. "by telling how much Steven can fight! He can take a hit and get up right!"

"What makes you think he can win this? You are sadly mistaken, miss!" Spinel and Makoto declared. "We could cheer until the end of the night, who's the winner of this fight song fight?!"

"AAAAAND the game goes to Beckham!" Matt yelled as his buddy won the fourth point, winning the game. "Good try Steven, but you can't beat the pros!"

"Good game Steven." Beck complimented his young opponent by shaking his hand.

"Yeah, good game." Steven replied, returning the handshake before looking at his watch. "Oh my, Yellow Diamond could be coming back soon! We gotta go!"

"Already?" Makoto said in mock disappointment. "But we were having so much fun!"

"I agree, but I still have a family of my own to come back to." Spinel said. "Hopefully we can do this again someday!"

"Yeah, maybe I could properly introduce you to the rest of the cheer team." Makoto replied.

"By the way, let me get something to remember us by." Beckham said before walking away and coming back with a dirty white & red jersey. "This is my uniform from back when I played for the Jayhawk Pussycats. Be sure to take good care of it, Spinel."

"I will." Spinel smiled before packing the jersey into her fanny pack. "Well, see y'all real soon!"

"Wait, let's take a selfie first!" Makoto offered, pulling out her phone and bringing Steven, Spinel, Beck, and Monroe in for a picture while making some duck-lips. "My thousands of followers are gonna love this!" With that, the selfie was taken.

--

When Steven and Spinel finally left the apartment building that Beck's penthouse suite stood on top of, night was beginning to fall, yet the city still shined brightly like thousands of lanterns all around them.

"This is so beautiful." Spinel muttered in amazement at the pretty lights around them.

"I know." Steven said, just as astonished. "Now, the Dondai shouldn't be too far. I think it's back at Maramba Stadium, which hopefully shouldn't be too far from-"

"Wait wait wait, you hear that?" Spinel asked, turning her finger into a horn that she put up to her ear as she faintly heard someone crying. "Come on, have a listen!" She then put the horn to Steven's ear, making him hear the crying too.

"I think someone needs help." Steven realized before the two began walking closer to the source of the crying, which turned out to be a little blonde girl playing with a cube while she kept on sniffling.

"Where are you?" the little girl quietly sobbed, not even noticing Steven and Spinel before her.

"I think I can handle this one Steven." Spinel declared before she walked up to the girl and got super close to her face. "Hey kid, can you stop crying and look at me?!" However, the girl yelped in fright and suddenly went quiet. "Oy, eyes up here sport!" Spinel continued with a snap of her fingers, but the girl refused to speak. "Not that much of a talker, are ya?"

"I think it's because you're being a little too direct. Let me try." Steven suggested before he sat down next to the child. "Hello, sorry about my friend. I'm Steven, what's your name?"

"Chloe." The girl said quietly. "Are you here to help me?"

"Of course we are." Steven smiled. "Can you tell me where your mother is?"

"I don't know." Chloe answered. "I only turned around and she was gone, and I have no idea where she is."

"It's alright, just stay calm and let us help you." Steven said before pulling out his phone. "Here, I'll call the police to help us out."

"You rang?" a police officer asked while appearing from seemingly out of nowhere, taking the three by surprise. "Apologies for the scare, I just heard someone say police officer and rushed right on over. What seems to be the matter?"

"This kid lost her mom." Spinel answered the officer. "Can you help us find her?"

"Oh sure," the Officer replied. "Just come with me to the station and we'll get to work!"

"Yay!" Chloe cheered, flapping her hands.

"I didn't know humans could do that!" Spinel said before beginning to flap her hands as well. "Am I doing it right?"

"Doesn't matter." Chloe beamed. "Some people always thought my hand flapping was strange, but my mommy always helped me learn how to be myself."

"Sounds like you got a pretty good mom Chloe." Spinel said before she hoisted Chloe over her shoulders and took her for a piggyback ride. "I know what it's like to be left behind, and I won't let it happen to anyone else."

"Thank you so much!" Chloe said and gave Spinel's head a big hug as the two of them, along with Steven and the Officer, began walking to the police station. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Call me Spinel." Spinel answered.

--

Later at the Empire City police station, Steven was having a talk with the Officer in another room while Spinel played with Chloe's cube outside, and Chloe was drawing something.

"So what's with this thing anyways?" Spinel asked Chloe. "Why did I see you playing with it?"

"That's my fidget cube." Chloe replied. "My mom got a few of them to help me focus because I sometimes have a hard time paying attention to things."

"Where can I get one of these?" Spinel asked again more eagerly.

"Maybe when Mom comes, I can ask her to give you one." Chloe suggested before Steven and the Officer emerged from the other room. "Anything Mr. Steven?"

"I was mostly just telling the Officer here about myself, since he did meet my friends in Los Diego." Steven answered.

"Now, all we need to do is get your mom's phone number and she'll be right on over." The Officer said as he picked up a phone. "Could you tell us to the best of your ability?"

"Of course!" Chloe said eagerly. "It's 1 (723) 201-1995."

"Nine-nine-five." The Officer repeated to himself and put the phone up to his ear. "Hello? Yes, this is the Empire City Police Department. Are you the mother of a little girl named Chloe?" he asked someone on the other end. "Good, cause a couple of tourists found her all alone and helped me bring her to the station. Can you come pick her up?"

"There, your mom should be comin' for ya tout sweet!" Spinel declared before Chloe gave her a big hug. "Aw, you're so nice."

"How are you able to memorize her number?" Steven asked Chloe.

"I just have a knack for those kinds of things." Chloe responded before a blonde woman, presumably her mother, came barging into the station. "Mommy!"

"Chloe!" Chloe's mother cried as her daughter came racing up to hug her. "Oh, I'm so sorry for leaving you behind like that! I didn't even notice I left you until the police called me!"

"You can thank us for that ma'am." Spinel stated, introducing herself and Steven.

"You truly are a lifesaver." The mother thanked the Gem. "My name's Yvonne, and thanks again for helping my daughter."

"Oh, that reminds me, Mom." Chloe said. "Would it be okay if Spinel got one of my fidget cubes as thanks?"

"I don't see why not." Yvonne agreed before fishing through her purse and finding a pink cube. "Here, I think it suits you."

"Aw shucks miss, you're making me blush!" Spinel thanked the mother sheepishly when she got an idea of her own. "Here, you can have this Chloe." She said, pulling the stuffed rabbit from her fanny pack and giving it to her new friend. "The least I can do."

"Thanks Spinel." Chloe said, swapping her drawing for the bunny before she and her mother began to leave the station. "Goodbye!"

"You're very welcome!" Steven called after the mother and daughter while Spinel gazed tenderly at the drawing of her and Chloe in her hands. "So Spinel, ready to go?"

"Of course." Spinel sniffed loudly and put the drawing and the cube in her pack.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Steven, tell those Gems I said hi." The Officer told Steven. "And by the way, don't start cracking up too much, if you get what I'm saying."

"I'm sorry, what?" Steven asked, but instead of a proper answer, the Officer disappeared like he was never there. "Who was that guy?" he muttered as he and Spinel left to go find the Dondai Supremo.

--

Soon, the Dondai Supremo finally returned to Beach City, and Yellow Diamond once again parked her ship in front of the beach house as she waited for Steven and Spinel.

"Now what could be keeping those two?" Yellow asked somewhat impatiently while gazing at the night sky when suddenly, she spotted a little car driving towards her. "Oh, there they are."

"Hi Yellow!" Spinel exclaimed, bursting from the car and racing towards the Diamond. "You'll never guess the fun day I had with Steven today! I got a ton of cool stuff from some people we met along the way and learned about human sports!"

"Oh that's delightful, I'm glad you had a good time today." Yellow grinned before becoming more serious. "Now come along, we still have work to do regarding a certain Rutile."

"Okay!" Spinel answered and then turned to Steven. "Thanks for everything today Steven."

"Pleasure's all mine Spinel. Maybe we can do this again someday." Steven said gratefully before Spinel gave him another big hug and then raced back to Yellow's side. "Don't be a stranger you guys!"

"We won't." Yellow shouted back before she and Spinel entered her arm ship and it finally took off into the night sky.

--

"So, what did you and Steven do today Spinel?" Yellow asked Spinel as the ship cruised back to Homeworld.

Spinel took one look at everything in her butt sack, from the Coney Island prizes to Beckham Jordan's Pussycats jersey, the fidget cube, and Chloe's drawing, before giving her answer with a smile.

"Everything."

--

And that's enough of Spinel, Pink Diamond's playmate turned near-destroyer of Earth turned companion of the Diamonds, country music fangirl, wannabe cheerleader and friend to the neurodivergent! Well, for now at least, she will be making a comeback in Part 4. And speaking of Part 4, that Secretary of Health that met Beckham will be making an appearance there as well and played by Ryan Reynolds. Yes, THAT Ryan Reynolds, so technically Deadpool and Wolverine met without even needing to speak to each other onscreen. But anyways, we've all had our fun with Spinel, but next chapter is when we start getting into what I call the Tearjerking Three, consisting of Pumpkin Patch, Mr. Universe and Fragments. Your bodies better be ready, because I'm bringing the feels!

[neo-shitty]

extra elongated tag game!

tagged by: @waithyuck​ hi, thank you for tagging me. i hope you’re safe :))

tagging: @94core​, @legendnct​, @juliennestudies​ (hi, it’s althea. you might want to do this?), @jaesmintea​ (can we be friends dkjsf idk how to make friends here) and whoever wants to play this game. it’s pretty lengthy tho.

O N E

tell me the first song that made you stan your current fave group and why did your faves attract you so much?

for seventeen, it was clap. the synchronization, even when they made a mistake, was really impressive to me. i started binge-watching their dance videos and i just remember being at awe at how a lot of people (considering they’re 13) could be in sync like that.

for nct, it was kick it. i used to say i didn’t like the song, but it won’t get out of my head. i’m not sure what keeps me attracted to them as a group. i just am. also, haechan is the love of my life. i’ve never loved an idol the way i loved him.

for ateez, it was wonderland. good lord, i just love that song. the mv, the vibe it gives off, the aesthetics during that era. makes me want to start a revolution.

T W O

rule: answer the ten questions given by the previous person and write 10 of your own for the next person!

1. what is your favorite memory from your childhood?

i didn’t have a dull childhood or something. i just don’t have specific memory that i could consider my favorite. but if there was anything i was fond of, as a kid, it was being innocent and not worrying too much about anything. i miss that and i wish i could go back. 

2. if you could travel anywhere in the world with just a snap of your fingers, where would you go and why?

the museum where van gogh’s starry night is stored. i want to visit it in the middle of the night when there’s no one else there. i just want to stare at it and appreciate it.

3. describe your personality in three (3) words.

unbowed. unbent. unbroken. haha, kidding. impulsive, unpredictable, and...confusing i guess?

4. what is your favorite thing that you have ever read? (anything you’ve ever read counts! fanfiction, poems, novels etc.) why?

i don’t really have a favorite :(

5. are you the studying type of person or the type to just ‘wing it’ when you have a big test coming up?

i’m not really the type who studies regularly but i don’t walk into the exam room without reading at all. i read and study a few days before the exam, try to get as much information as possible.

6. between bold colors and pastel colors, which do you prefer?

i’d rather go with pastels in the day and bold neons at night. 

7. do you live life in the moment or do you plan every action you take?

a bit of both depending on the situation. i’m the type who plans ahead on things that i really want to happen but i have my fair share of spontaneous, impulsive decisions that lead up to really fun experiences. but when it comes to life in general? i’m just taking in every day as it comes. 

8. what is your favorite holiday and why? (all holidays count! across all religions and cultures 😄)

christmas. the weather is cool and everyone’s a bit kind during that time of the year. and it leads up to new year.

9. would you rather stay up to stargaze in the middle of the night or wake up early to watch the sunrise?

i can’t see stars even with glasses on because my eyes suck. so i guess, i’d rather watch the sunrise because that obnoxious ball of bright yellow light is so hard to miss. plus i like how the surroundings change colors as the night changes into day.

10. what is your favorite eye color on another person?

blue on a brunette? i know it’s rare but it’s such a beautiful mix.

my ten questions for you:

what’s your favorite season and why?

are you a cat person or a dog person?

what’s your current favorite song and why can’t you stop listening to it?

if you had the ability to do either of the following, would you rather change something in the past or see into the future?

what’s your favorite movie?

what did miss rona ruin for you this 2020?

what’s your favorite album? (you can name one for each genre you like or you can just name one, it’s up to you.)

if you could talk to your past self (person who lived your past life), what would you tell them?

do you have a go-to person? who is it?

if you could tell your younger self something, what would you say?

T H R E E

rule: bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations.

AIR ༉⋆͙̈

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see the dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE ༉⋆

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER ༉⋆͙̈

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love simply lit dinners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH ༉⋆͙̈

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love this chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER ༉⋆͙̈

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

F O U R

the ultimate tag: answer whichever ones you want to because there are a lot.

PERSONAL

name: althea

nickname: thea

birthday: april 27

zodiac: taurus

nationality: filipino

languages: filipino, english, learning korean

gender: female

sexuality: straight

height: 5’2”

BLOG STUFF

inspiration for muse: music

meaning behind my url: supposedly neocity but that was taken so :D 

blog established: 2016/2015? but i only became active this 2020

followers: 35 :D hi <3

FAVORITES

favorite animal/s: cats :(

favorite book/s: warcross by marie lu

favorite color/s: black and skin-tone shades

favorite fictional characters: i don’t really have favorites, sorry

favorite flower: sunflowers 

favorite scent: vanilla

favorite season: summer and fall or the tropical equivalents of these anw

RANDOM

average hours of sleep: 7-8

cats or dogs: cats

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: iced tea / hot chocolate

current time: 12:50 pm

dream trip: europe trip

dream job: i actually want to be a 5-star michelin

hobbies: writing, listening to music

hogwarts house: slythering

last movie watched: the darkest minds

last song listened to: sweet creature - harry styles

no. of blankets you sleep with: 1

random fact(s): i’m in both college and high school atm (august 5, 2020) because i haven’t graduated yet and my college a.y already started

F I V E

10 songs i can’t stop listening to:

just go - ikon

easy - stray kids

breathe - james arthur

lotto - exo

god’s menu - stray kids

inception - ateez

killing me - ikon

la la lost you - niki

dontmakemefallinlove - cuco

safe inside - james arthur

[honeyfreckled]

we have talked a few times and im sorry for this but you are the most accepting and easiest person to talk to honestly i dont have many people in my life i can tell anything real to. but the thing is ive been thinging about relapsing a lot more since i broke up with my boyfriend and i work with him so it makes work depressing and impossible to get through a day without crying sorry this is anon but i am scared ily dont hate me i am not trying to stress you out

ok wow first lemme just say: I DO NOT HATE U. EVER. 

and don’t be srry i don’t have a lotta ppl irl i can tell my shit to so i get it. pls know u can always ALWAYS ALWAYS come to me, and u dont gotta be scared to come off anon. i get it and it’s ok if u prefer it that way- but pls know i dont keep it on alot bc i get hate and then i turn it off bc i gotta look out for myself and dont post all the hate bc i dont wanna bring yall down or give them the satisfaction of knowing i have given it a read and response. so u can message me or make a sideblog or idk im just saying this so if it’s off later u dont blame yrself or feel scared to come off anon. ok sorelapse is a real thing and it’s fucked and hard and addiction is fucked up and a real life struggle and we dont treat addicts w the real tenderness, respect, kindness, and acceptance they deserve. but u DO deserve it. and there are hotlines, apps, churches, groups, chatrooms/boards, and sites that are more versed in what are the appropriate things to say to u- i say this bc while i’ve been thru it w loved ones i have not myself struggled w addiction w substances. my addictions were to self harm and victimhood so those are the things i searched for help on. but if it’s alright i’d like to give u some tips or things i used and have heard work for addicts of substances

places like i said like churches, groups, chatrooms, sites, apps, hotlines the apps and hotlines are good if u cant travel or want to talk to ppl who wont share their story bc maybe u cant hear it like its not the kinda help ur looking for. hotlines are sometimes tricky bc some of those folks are not educated they are volunteers so judgment leaks thru and in that case u ask to be redirected and report that volunteer so hopefully they dont repeat that kinda mess to other vulnerable folks looking for help

make a list of things, anything. list of foods u like to order, list of things that make u clench yr teeth, what were yr fave gifts you’ve ever got, style icons of urs, hobbies u tried that annoyed u, movies u can always watch, places on yr skin u hate being touched, any list of anything it doesnt have to be the usual thing of “what to live for” bc when yr depressed those kinds of things arent easy to think of. but if u get a list going of like “best things ive ever touched” “sounds that make me laugh” “trends that were stupid af” “popular things that i didnt like n couldnt figure out why they were popular” “weirdest ppl ive met” well those things might get u on a roll of good memories or laughing or seeing that theres more to yr life than what has been occupying yr thoughts

dancing. dance in yr room in the dark. clear some space. put on some headphones. lock yr door. do it in the shower. just dance. i had to start w closing my eyes and picking songs that i was taken by emotionally. songs that made me jump and slamdance tbh and then it’s just gotten more and more something im not as ashamed w. i spent a date night w james just dancing and then we ya know ya know bc the dancing got so wild. now i make playlists of songs that set moods for diff kinds of dancing

watch shows w ppl who arent doing better than u. they dont live in fancy places, they dont do much w their lives, they dont dress better than u, they struggle, they arent eating good food u dont have access to. iasip. freaks and geeks. letterkenny. undeclared. jake and amir. tpb. the state. youtube. tiktok/vine comps. lots of these kinds of vibes on youtube

podcasts. improv comedy podcasts tbh saved my life. comedy bang! bang! has best of’s those are good ones to start w. improv4humans bc matt besser has great guests of some of the best improvisers out there and he has musical guests and they’ll play a song and the improvisers will use it as inspo for a scene

make things. moodboards. pinterest. playlists. fill a shopping cart and tell yrself “i’ll get it when i win the lotto and move away from anyone who knows me so i can be the me i wanna be w/out judgement” make tea. make a meal if u can. make yr bed. clean one thing. clean the sink. hang some clothes or go thru yr drawers and clean them out. throwing things out feels hard at first but then it’s nice bc u feel less bogged down

find something to throw yr obsession at for a bit. something that wont hurt u as bad, being obsessed in general isnt good. everything in moderation irl. too much of something is bad just as much as too less of it can be bad. but yr looking for something lower risk here and if u gotta be obsessed w a celeb or a song or a food that’s ok. yr focusing the energy on something that isnt a substance so be proud of it

give yrself a break. give yrself some credit. everyday isnt gonna be on the “best of your name here’s days” but sometimes u just live to live bc that’s what u do. u wait it out and get thru it and wait for the sun to come back out. and if u cant get outta bed. or if you hate yr job and wanna scream- that’s normal it’s more normal than always being happy ppl just dont like talking abt bc society kinda trains us to hide our fucked upness idk why but thats how it is. they dont wanna tell us to do preventative care until we’re in the pits

all in all- it comes down to (at least for me) not planning w an endgoal in mind. it’s not over til it’s over and rlly we dont know. it’s all fluctuating and not meant to be a finish line we cross and then suddenly we’re done and we dont suffer anymore and the feeling of shit is gone or the risk of relapse is gone and the depression is cleared away never to be seen again. it’s not realistic. bc it isnt real. on the real- risk is always there and the downs and ups mix and run together and depression is not curable (this isnt something to be miserable over tho) depression isnt curable, yeah ok, but it is manageable. it can be quieted down from time to time and if u keep up w yr healthy routines and coping mechanisms- depression will still find its way to u bc the real world is not something u can manage. death in the family, loss of money or job, car breaking down, sickness outta nowhere, depression grows wild when these very real life stressors come into our lives. but all that too eventually gets easier and easier at least from a “ok i have some distance now” standpoint. and then as those days get more and more btwn it u can then be like “oh wow, ive made it thru X amount of days! ive put up w it this long! whats one more day, whats one more week, hell might as well see how much prouder i can feel once ive got a year under my belt!” plus u will be more capable of handling the bullshit if u know u can still find some safe places in yr coping skills or friends or resources.

ok so this is prob a mess but bottomline know this:

I love  you and i will be here the best i can should u ever wanna come spill or if u need me to just send u pics of my dog or boring pics of knickknacks or selfies or memes or links or anything just tell me what u need and i will try my best to show u my love. i hope u can see that u reaching out is just already a HUGE major step in the right direction, give yrself credit! thats amazing! yr already doing it pumpkin look at u! it’s hard ik. but i also know if u are capable of saying u have this problem going on, u are capable of getting thru this. u are a light in the world. u offer goodness and u offer yrself and that’s enough. even if yr fucked up right now- u are contributing to the world by simply being u. there is literally NO ONE ELSE WHO IS YOU. so u are unique by definition. i hope u get something from this post and if not i hope it strikes an idea or thing u can do that will help. i hope u know im here and i hope u see this.

i am sending u all my light and love and good vibes and i can’t wait to see or hear from u again. u are never bothering me, a burden, or stressing me out. tbh it stresses me more that u might be struggling and not telling me or anyone. i dont ever want u to suffer in silence bc u feel guilt or scared or anything. u deserve to have a place to voice yr shit. im here to listen if u do wanna tell me anymore.

everyone else-if this helped or if u can think of anything that might help anon or anyone else- feel free to reblog and get some good NONJUDGMENTAL advice or tips and tricks going, but please please please remember to not come off as judgey or flood it with your drama. keep ur drama out of this post so anon or anyone else doesn’t get triggered by it. 

and dont ignore my rule and do it anyway and then say some shit like “ik u said not to but i think this will help lol sorry” like we need this post to stay on this vibe that i set in motion and not a struggle contest or dick measuring or all sad personal reminiscing. go make yr own post for that this is NOT the space.

[mycryptosuite]

MSP Lotto Forecast King - MSP Live Banker

MSP Lotto Forecast King – MSP Live Banker

MSP Lotto Forecast King – MSP Live Banker MSP lotto forecast king has come for today with the best of msp lotto live banker that must drop and it will give rise to two sure for monday special next week. Lotto banker for today will not fail for any reason and am telling you the truth, if you like you can play the game and if you don’t like, you can ignore it. (more…)

[migamillionresults-blog]

Successful the Lottery: It's Beaten the Past

mega million historic results

History involving Succeeding the Lottery

Earning the actual lottery has the long along with ancient historical past. The word "lottery" happens from the Italian "lotto", meaning fate or straighteners. Many lottery games from the English speaking world tend to be referred to as parte games. Tips on how to win the particular lottery is a huge world extensive question for 100, possibly thousands of years.

mega million historic results

Early Lotteries

Lotteries have a ancient, digno and relatively checkered background. There are usually many biblical references on the drawing of lots in order to award ownership and throughout typically the Book of Quantities, Phase 26, Moses employs a lotto to merit land western world of often the River Jordan. From the Brand-new Testament, Roman members of the military lured lots to decide would you get Jesus' cloak following your crucifixion.

In 100 BC, the Hun Dynasty with China created the lotto sport known as Keno. Most of the money raised were used to be able to financial the construction connected with the Great Wall membrane, designed as a perimeter safety. Winning the lottery ended up being less important than safeguarding the country.

Origin associated with Modern Lotteries

The initial recorded European lotto seemed to be held in 1446 with the widow of the Flemish electrician Jan Van Eyck for you to dispose of the remaining artwork. Winning this particular lottery may have given anyone a prize worthy of ultra millions today!

Encyclopedia Britannica states that the lotto as we know this dates back to help fifteenth century France exactly where that was used by specific villages to raise cash for reinvigorating the town's defenses (Europe has any strong tradition regarding individuals considering themselves because owed to a city rather than state or even some sort of country, like a homeowner would think of him or her or herself as a new Aventure, rather than the Italian. ) King Francis I involving France authorized lotteries to from 1520, and the initially comunitario lottery to offer funds as a prize had been Chicago Lotto de Firenze, manage by the area of Florence within 1530. Other cities inside Croatia soon followed go well with.

Within 1567, Queen At the We established the first English language state lottery, with cash incentives including cash, gold in addition to silver menu, and tapestries. 400, 000 tickets were being offered available for purchase. For the while, how to gain the actual lottery was any question about all the particular citizens' lips.

Inside 1612, King James I actually connected with England created a lotto in London by supérieur rule. The proceeds really helped in order to finance the very first British nest in North america at Jamestown, Florida. Anglican churches held a couple of typically the three winning tickets inside first draw!

Winning often the Lottery: The First Country wide Lotto

In the midst 18th century, some sort of distinctive event occurred in Portugal. Because of the probable for fixing the effects throughout privately operated lotteries, Giacomo Girolamo Casanova (1725 rapid 1798) persuaded John XV of France to be able to identified the first state-owned monopoly lottery, the Loterie Suprême of the Military Institution, that became the gps device on the Loterie Nationale. Most other lotteries in This particular language were banned. The lotto was a Keno fashion game, where people could possibly select 1, only two, several, 4 or 5 quantities involving 1 and three months. (Incidentally, Casanova owned a good interest within the new lotto and became prosperous since a result, but available his / her interest shortly later as well as lost the earnings by way of unwise investments; appears the same as some modern lotto winning trades, doesn't it? )

Foundation of American Lotteries

In the eighteenth hundred years, lotteries were effectively underneath way in America, largely to fund some enterprise or maybe as a technique out of debt. The actual first started out in Ma in 1744 because associated with military debts. The initial country wide lottery was started off through the Continental Congress with 1776 to raise cash to the American Revolution. The particular Starting up Fathers were troubled not really much with how for you to win the actual lottery nevertheless with how to bring up funds using lotteries. A lot of the Founding Fathers played and also sponsored lotteries:

Benjamin Franklin used lotteries to fund cannons for the Ground-breaking Conflict.

George Washington invested structure of the Pile Road, which usually opened development West regarding Virginia, simply by operating a new lottery.

Youngsters Jefferson, who has been $80, 000 in debt whole their life, used the lotto to dispose of almost all of his property. Winning this specific lottery would have granted which you priceless piece involving American historical past!

John Hancock operated any lottery to help finance the particular rebuild connected with historic Faneuil Hall within Boston.

Additionally , public lotteries helped construct several United states universities, which include Harvard, Yale, Columbia, Princeton, Brown along with Dartmouth. Profitable these lotteries was a key side of the bargain to the future associated with Us education.

[lessereviltm-a-blog]

this is a shout out post to the friends that i’ve made throughout the time i’ve been back in the rpc. i think i’ve been back for a year now. i’ve lost some friends & i’ve gained new ones. but shout out to my oldest friend @carolinesnotbrokenjustbent for still keeping in touch with me throughout my time here before & after i went on a hiatus, simply because my past life was hectic & stressful. also i was pregnant & the fact that she had to be the one i dumped all my pregnancy hormones on....bless you, lia. we’ve had all the good times with rebekoline, didn’t we? & we both be missing @mikaels-son so so sooooo much. lili, if you ever come back & see this, you’ll always be my mama bear, my world peace, & most importantly my porn partner. not only did you introduce lia & i to james deen, but also manuel ferrera. thank you for your knowledge of pornstars. this shout out post is now turning into a porn memorial for lili. L I A, you’ll always be my lia coco. ok. i’m sorry that the plan to vegas this year will have to be postponed. as much as i would love to, i’m too career & life goals focused right now. vegas will always be one of those goals but it’s not on the top of the list. i promise you i will see you, just not this year. maybe if i won a lotto to strike out the first goal on my list then i’ll see you this year ;D you know, with discord being a thing now, it’s so easier to keep track of each other. i truly appreciate that you’d take the time to shoot out little messages even when you’re completely exhausted. & fangirl about twilight whenever you catch up on the movies/books. when are you going to give me alice/esme angst? i kid i kid. whenever XD much love, mcham sammich