#Sorry for any typos but I am in a market eating so much food and it is New Year's Eve. I cannot be assed.

[lavenderprose]

First dump of answers from this ask meme I was tagged to answer by @emmg. I'll be answering about my main Emmrichmancer Rook, Sigrid. If you'd like a particular question answered before I cycle through to it drop me an ask. :)

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them?

Sigrid (Who we'll call Sigrid here and NOWHERE ELSE because she doesn't go by Sigrid and basically never has) is thirty-two years young. She's typically mistaken as being in her mid-twenties. Elves seem to, in general, age a little differently from humans. Also, lack of UV rays in the Necropolis probably keeps people looking pretty good, skin-wise, even at some advanced ages. See: Emmrich, Myrna. Johanna not so much but I think Johanna's been lying about her age for so long that nobody actually knows how old she is. Emmrich's 'Your're two years younger than me!' is just an educated guess and one I believe is a wild underestimation. NOBODY knows how old Johanna is.

Sigrid likes her birthday just fine! Did she have a small mental breakdown when she turned thirty? Oh yeah. But she likes her birthday and she likes cake and she's got a particular weakness for feeling special and recognized, so of course she enjoys her birthday. Emmrich makes a big deal about her birthday when it comes around and she tries to be modest but they both know she LIVES for that shit. She came from my brain so of course she's a massive Leo, even if Thedas doesn't have those.

Favorite present is probably the three golden bangles Emmrich gave her on the aforementioned birthday. She loves them. Didn't want to wear them at first, for fear of damage, but it's grave gold and that's just what you DO with grave gold.

🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred?

This is one that I haven't given much thought to. In one of the fics I'm working on, she's given birth, but that's literally only one of them and not canonical to Sigrid as a whole. I think she's broken her ankle. That one was hard for her--she likes to be able to get up and go. Even with pretty rapid magical healing she was off her feet for awhile.

🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved?

Oh definitely the whole lich thing. Sigrid doesn't fuck with liches. She's aware of them as a concept and has made her peace with them being an important part of the cultural memory of the Mourn Watch and Nevarra in general but as for Emmrich becoming one? No go. I don't think that one truly gets resolved until the Manfred situation you see in the game, and even after that it's a sore spot for Sigrid. She holds onto some resentment and part of her wonders if Emmrich regrets not becoming a lich/choosing her and their family. He convinces her otherwise eventually, but it takes awhile. This is also a major theme in a fic I'm working on.

[shreddedparchment]

Bubbles

for @ravennightingaleandavatempus

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 5,017

A/N: I am so sorry that this is so fucking late. Like, super late! But I hope this makes up for it. I am super tired so this is not edited much. Please excuse any typos and I will come back when I am more alert and fix it up. This is my first Stucky fic EVER so please be kind! If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

“Okay, I know that things are really tough right now with two investors backing out so I need you guys to see where we can cut costs.” You flip to the next page in the black leather folder sitting before you on the beautiful redwood meeting table in the Avengers Compound common room. “We’re spending fifteen hundred dollars on centerpieces? Is that really necessary? This is a publicity dinner. Check to see what else we can do for centerpieces. Swag. Slap an ‘Avengers’ A on some money clips and wallets, maybe some baseball caps? Okay? Brainstorm and we’ll meet in a week.”

The six marketing department employees under you start to rise and gather up their notes and phones before they begin to make their way towards the stairs and elevator.

“Thanks Team!” You yell after them, hoping it isn’t too late.

They’re not unhappy but you can see the stress in their faces over this stupid dinner. Since Bucky came back into the picture, he’s been working as an Avenger in secret. Spotted a couple times and plastered all over the news, the former Winter Soldier has everyone on edge. Everyone that doesn’t know him.

Bucky also isn’t the warmest Avenger and he’s kept from interacting with the other employees. Your own marketing team doesn’t know how to approach this dinner because they don’t know him. Not like you do.

You hadn’t been expecting to fall in love with James Buchanan Barnes. In fact, you hadn’t even been sure you were going to like him.

Steve spoke about him in length over the time you two have known each other. It wasn’t long before you realized that there had been more to them than brotherhood and friendship. Their relationship had been complicated and had many layers.

So, when Steve showed up at Triskelion after the Battle of New York looking for you, you’d been first; relieved to see him. Second; surprised that he came to find you. And Third; extremely shocked when he marched into your office, wrapped his arms around you, and kissed you hard.

“Ow.” You gasp, surprised by the roughness of Steve’s sudden kiss.

“Sorry.” Steve gasps, still wearing his Captain America uniform. He looks good but before today you would have never admitted it aloud. “Sorry. I just…got excited. I mean, the world almost ended.”

He explains himself breathing heavily as if he’s still amidst the fight with the Chitauri. His shoulders are heaving, wide and hard, his chest pressed closely to yours. It’s an impossible position that you’d never expected to find yourself in. With your hands gently gripping his shoulder blades you stare up into his storm blue eyes with a million questions yearning for answers.

“I-” You swallow the lump in your throat and laugh once, still not believing that Captain fucking America is holding you in his arms. “I thought you and Bucky were like, together? A thing?”

“Well, we were. I mean, not really. We shared a few special moments and Buck was very special to me, but I was technically with Peggy.”

“So, you’re not just into guys?”

“I’m not really into guys. I was only every interested in Bucky. But it was the 40’s. What could we do? That kind of love wasn’t acceptable at the time.” He looks a little sad as he says it. “And then I lost him so, there was no point in dwelling on what might have been.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, hating yourself for bringing up such a painful subject.

“No.” Steve insists, wrapping you up more tightly and stealing your breath. “When things started to go south today, when I thought that I wasn’t going to get out of New York alive, you were there in my mind, telling me to keep fighting.”

“Me?” You shake your head.

“You. Your voice, your face, you kept me going, Y/N. I would have been here sooner, but we had to help civilians and when things calmed down Tony insisted we all had to go get some Shawarma. He wouldn’t take no for an answer so I just went and sat there with my head hanging, impatiently waiting for everyone to finish eating so that I could get my ass over here, to you, so that I could hold you like this and kiss you—not like I just kissed you, I’m sorry I hurt you—and to tell you that…I love you, Y/N. I think I’ve loved you since the day you snuck me a hotdog after I woke up.”

You laugh, nearly in tears as you remember the afternoon after Steve had been awoken from his seventy-year nap. He must be starving. Is all you could think that day and because they were keeping an eye on him to make sure that he was okay—though honestly after his break out and the run through Time’s Square, they should have known that he was perfectly fine—you had to sneak in some food for him. A couple of hot dogs and some soda, courtesy of a small shop down the block with hotdogs to die for.

“Well, I thought you might be hungry.”

“And I have been. Starving, Y/N, but for this.” He tightens his arms, leaning in closer to you so that he can graze his nose against your once more stealing your oxygen. “For you. Tell me this isn’t just me?”

It takes you a few very tense seconds to answer in which you watch his storm blue eyes flit back and forth between yours as he tries to read you before you can answer.

“No.” You finally sigh. “It’s not just you.”

Steve smiles and it’s so blindingly beautiful you nearly lose your footing as your knees buckle. Lucky, Steve’s already holding you taut and so he only strengthens his grip as he leans down slowly to meet your lips in another kiss. Luckily, this one is much softer as his strong hands tenderly stroke your back and sides while he deepens the kiss and draws you into a haze with his seductive French kiss.

“Hey, saleswoman, how’d the meeting go?”

You look up from your spot at the table and shut your folder and pick it up to hold against your chest then grab your phone and hold that in your free hand. You then descend the stairs and approach Mr. Stark a he eyes you and the last of your marketing team disappearing down the stairs.

“It went alright. We’re lacking some funds, but we’ll be alright. Thanks for lending me the space. Our offices are still being remodeled. Any idea when they’re gonna be done?”

“I’ll ask the bossy.” Stark says.

“Aren’t you the boss?” You ask confused.

“Pepper says ‘no’. Investors pull out?”

“Uh, yeah.” You sigh heavily. “It looks like some of the senators are not as convinced of Bucky’s rehabilitation as we thought. They’re nervous about backing him with his shady history.”

Stark sighs heavily, widening his eyes as he considers his own dark history with Bucky. You always feel weird bringing him up.

“Yeah, well, something tells me it’s more about them not wanting anyone poking around the skeletons in their closets. Sign me up. I’ll cover what they withdrew.”

“No, Mr. Stark, you don’t have to do that. We’ll be alright, we can cut costs.” You assure him, hating the idea that Stark is doing this to be nice for you, and tying himself to something related with Bucky when he might still just want to kill the guy.

“No. Really. I think it’s time we bury the hatchet and it doesn’t seem like he’s going anywhere. As much as I’d love to put a bullet in his head, he’s important to Steve and you’re important to Steve so, sign me up. Call Pepper, she’ll get you a check.” Mr. Stark gives you a small and very quick smile before pulling the hands from his well-tailored suit and heading towards the stairs himself.

“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Stark. That means a lot.” You call towards him. “To Steve too, I’m sure.”

Stark stops to look at you when he reaches the top of the stairs. “It’s Tony, kid. I’ll see you around.”

“Right…Tony. Thank you.” You call out after him as he descends the stairs and disappears from sight just as your phone beeps.

You look down at the illuminated screen as a message flashes across it, from the man of the hour, Bucky.

‘So, I accidentally did a thing and now I need your help.’ The message reads.

Sighing you quickly type your reply.

‘Where are you?’

‘The apartment.’

‘Get Steve to help you. I’m working. Still planning your stupid party.’

‘I thought it was a dinner?’

‘It is a dinner, dumbass.’

‘Darling, would you please stop arguing with me via text and just get your ass over here? I need your help.’

‘Ask Steve!’

‘He went out!’

“Fuck!” You shout, jealous and angry. Sharing Steve had not been part of the plan.

‘I’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere like last time, Barnes. If I show up and you’re gone, I’m going to kick your ass.’

With a small growl you head out too, headed back to the city to meet up with your boyfriend’s boyfriend.

Slipping your key into the top lock, you listen as the heavy deadbolt slides out then unlock the bottom one, which is much quietly. A mechanical hiss as you twist the nob and walk inside.

The apartment is older, with turn of the century interiors and filled with modern takes on 1950’s furniture in maple, walnut, and oak tones. Steve had decorated and you’d let him, eager to just start your lives together. You’d given the apartment it’s smaller touches. You’d chosen dark carpets to give the space a cozier feel and insisted that all lights be dimmable. You’d decorated the gray couches with turquoise and purple throw pillows, a large yellow carpet on the floor over the already carpeted space under the coffee table. You’d chosen red sheets for your shared bed, and silver sheets for guest bedroom where Bucky currently slept.

Lastly, you’d bought several plants to give the place some life, flowers were bought every week for the dining room and the living room, and there were of course the endless picture frames adorning tables and walls that over the years of being with Steve, you two had accumulated. Over the fireplace you kept a picture of Peggy for him and there was a picture of him and Bucky as well.

You walk in and pull your coat off, shutting the door behind you as you drop off your keys on the table beside the coat rack.

“Bucky?” You quickly peel off your shoes too and massage the sore spots on the heels of your feet, wincing with relief as you finally abandon those stupid boots.

There is no answer.

“Bucky?!” That jerk better not have gone somewhere!

You move towards his bedroom and glance inside but he’s not there, though there is a stack of laundry on the foot of the bed.

With your eyebrows raised you unbutton your plum suit jacket and remove it, leaving you in your light blue polka dot, strapless thigh-length dress.

“Fucking Bucky.” You growl and frown as you move into the kitchen.

There is no one in the kitchen. No one in the bathroom. No one in the living room which you had already passed as you’d had to in order to get to his room, but you needed to check again.

“Oh, laundry…” You suddenly realize that you haven’t checked the laundry room and his bed had that pile of clean clothes neatly folded.

With quiet feet you move towards the door just off the kitchen and throw it open expecting to find Bucky in there probably holding a pile of previously white clothes now stained pink or something stupid like that but instead you find him holding Steve’s hands behind his back as he pins him against the washer which sits open spilling endless bubbles into the small room making the floor slick and smell like clean linen.

You gasp quietly, shocked by the sight as Bucky’s lips overlap Steve’s, passionately massaging them as he holds Steve’s hands behind his back with his impossibly strong metal hand while his right one cups Steve’s left cheek. Bucky’s shirtless, wearing low slung black sweats giving you a subtle view of the top curve of his buns of steel.

They’re both so lost in each other, two masses of bulging muscle, wide shoulders, and testosterone, that they don’t notice you and as Steve moans lightly, your heart erupts into green toxic sludge, poisoning you.

This is what you’d feared from the moment that Steve had run off to find Bucky. He was going to forget you in favor of a greater love he’d lost.

You don’t stand there staring at them with your heart breaking for long because Steve opens his eyes suddenly as Bucky tilts his head in the opposite direction, breaking the kiss briefly.

Steve pulls back, fighting Bucky’s hold until Bucky also turns to look towards you and releases Steve’s wrists.

“Y/N…”

“I thought you were out?” You quickly try to compose yourself, urging your jealousy to go away, for the love of all that’s good in the world, because you need to let Steve have this, have Bucky.

He needs him. Much more than he needs you.

“I was.” Steve says, slipping as he tries to take a step towards you through the mass of bubbles and soap on the floor.

You look at Bucky who looks slightly embarrassed, scratching the back of his head as he eyes the room.

“I put too much soap in the wash. It was an accident.” Bucky exclaims. “Stark’s paying me now, so I’ll make sure to pay for any damage to the apartment.”

You glare at him for a second then watch as Steve finally closes the distance to you, grabbing hold of your waist as he reaches you. “You look beautiful today, hon.”

You don’t look at him, hating him for needing Bucky. “Thanks.”

He gives your hips a squeeze, knowing you well enough to know you’re struggling. “Y/N…” He pleads.

“How the hell are we going to clean this up?” You wonder, staring at the mess at your feet.

“Buckets?” Bucky suggests.

Steve looks at him and you can see the blush on his face and the love in his eyes as he looks at Bucky. You cross your arms across your chest, curling in on yourself feeling thoroughly left out.

“Yeah, I’ll go get some. I’ll be ten minutes, max.” Steve turns back to you and searches for your eyes. You meet his and struggle to keep your pining subdued. “Ten minutes, hon. Then you can tell me how your meeting went, okay?”

“I don’t need you to coddle me, Steve.” You argue, hating this feeling.

Steve sighs and leans in to kiss you quickly, just a peck, before he gives Bucky a pleading gaze. He turns and then he’s gone.

Both you and Bucky wait until you hear the front door close before either of you move. You look at him and he gives you a nervous grin.

“At least I was still here this time, right?” Bucky asks, chuckling nervously as he watches you.

You frown at him and move into the laundry room, careful with your steps as you approach the washing machine to get a look at the mess inside. “Give me that basket.”

Bucky moves to the red plastic basket you’re pointing at and then heads towards you with it.

“You don’t have to come over here. Just hand it over.” You complain, reaching for it

“You’ll fall.” Bucky insists.

“Bucky, just give me the damn basket.” You growl and reach for it.

“You’ll hurt yourself, darling, stop being so stubborn.”

“Bucky!” You argue and make a final swipe for the basket.

Which is stupid because the floor beneath your bare feet is so slippery even Steve was having trouble keeping himself upright.

You yell shrilly as your feet suddenly swing out from underneath you. The basket goes flying but you’re suddenly caught in strong arms as Bucky rushes forward to swing himself over you. He slips too which is why he’s spinning himself around so that as both of you land on the soapy floor, he lands underneath you.

Gasping in surprise you hold onto Bucky’s shoulders, clinging to him as your mind and heart catch up with each other. You idiot. You just fell.

Underneath you Bucky is also breathing heavily but then he’s laughing, throwing his head back into the suds which turn his hair white. “You’re so damn stubborn.”

You grunt and pull against his grip because his hands are holding your waist against him, hooked into the curve of your body above your bottom.

“Let me go, James.”

“Awe, no, don’t go back to calling me James.” He complains.

“Will you just let me go?”

“No. You’ll fall again and if you break your neck on my watch, Steve’ll kill me. He really loves you, you know that?”

Yeah, right.

“Y/N…” Bucky chastises you, apparently knowing where your thoughts are.

“Bucky, please let me up.” You’re not blind, seeing his rippling muscles underneath you is quite a sight.

You can’t blame Steve for wanting Bucky if he looked like this always. He’s exquisite, just like Steve. Super Soldiers of perfection.

“Do I make you nervous?” He suddenly asks, stunning you.

“Bucky.” You growl, intent on not showing him how hot your neck and ears have suddenly gotten.

“Alright, alright, but let me help you.”

Carefully he helps you up and onto your feet and with hi metal arm wrapped securely around your waist from behind—is he wearing underwear under those sweats? You really doubt it, you can feel everything—he waddles you towards the doorway and lets you go when you’ve cleared the frame.

You give Bucky one final look of uncertainty before you stomp towards the bathroom to get a towel to clean yourself off.

Toweling your arms and your dress, you stare into the mirror above the sink and watch as Bucky slides into the frame, leaning against the open door.

“Why don’t you like me?” Bucky asks, genuinely curious.

He doesn’t look sad or upset, just curious and it’s surprising so you just stare at him for a few moments before you lift your left leg up a little to wipe at the suds on your calf.

“Why do you think I don’t like you?” You wonder, off hand.

“Come on, Y/N, you’re not exactly ecstatic that I’m living here with you and Steve. You haven’t exactly rolled out the welcome wagon.”

“I’m planning your party, what the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s a dinner. And you’re only doing it because Steve asked you to.” Bucky points out.

“Bucky…”

“Is it because of me and Steve? I know that you two have a life together, I’m not here to try and tear that apart.” He promises, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats which tug his pants down a little lower.

Your eyes inadvertently wander down to that deep V of his hips and you clear your throat while quickly averting your eyes.

“I never said you were.”

“But you act like it every time Steve and I…I missed him, Y/N. I mean, I didn’t know that I missed him until he came to get me, but I missed him. I’m sorry if that’s hard for you. He and I never got the chance to really just…be together.”

“I know that, Bucky. I’m not trying to keep you two apart. In order for Steve to be happy he needs you in his life.” You sigh heavily, resting your hands on the edge of the counter as you drop the towel beside the sink and shake your head. “He loves you.”

A subtle heat suddenly wafts over your back, bringing your eyes back up to the mirror. Bucky stands behind you, staring at you over your left shoulder as he towers over you. He’s slightly shorter than Steve but not by much. Your eyes wander over the scars of his arm briefly and you feel bad for what he had to go through. Finding Steve was a miracle for both of them.

As you meet his steel blue eyes with your own through the mirror, you find your breath catching from the softness in his eyes.

“You’re not exactly like other dames, are you?”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

He smiles, amused. “Why don’t you like me?”

Your heart stutters with his renewed question and you turn around to look up at him. He’s a lot closer than you first thought and you’re very aware of his chiseled chest and his soft dark brown hair tucked behind his ears. He looks good. Better than you’d ever been willing to admit before. This is getting complicated.

“I don’t not like you.” You argue gently.

Bucky’s hand suddenly pulls the towel you’d been using to clean up around your shoulders. He grips it on both ends, wrapping you in as he pulls the corners in his tight fists which brings you closer so that you’re resting inches from his body.

“So, you like me?” He grins down at you, softening it so that it’s more intimate than gentle teasing.

Your stomach tumbles, somersaulting rapidly as your nerves spring to the precipice of madness. How does he dare bring himself this close to you?!

“I-I said I don’t not like you. There’s a difference.” You counter as he leans in towards you, his hot breath wafting over your lips.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…” You whisper as his slightly damp lips meet yours.

You groan because for a moment it almost tastes like you’re kissing both Steve and Bucky at the same time. Steve’s taste is still on his lips and you shudder in his arms, overcome with pleasure as he pulls you closer, trapping your hands against his bare chest.

He pulls back, to lick his lips, staring at your own as his thumb wipes soapy bubbles from your cheek.

“What are you doing?” You ask him in a whisper.

“I don’t not like you too.” He whispers back and tilts his head the other way before he kisses you again just as you begin to laugh.

This time you force your arms out from between the two of you and wrap them around his neck to push yourself up onto your tiptoes and moan against his lips.

He chuckles against your lips and pulls back to push more suds off your cheeks.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Mm?”

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hell yeah.” Bucky exclaims quietly then pulls you in for another kiss, this time pressing his tongue against your lower lip which prompts your lips apart so that he can slip his tongue in to mingle with your own, sliding deliciously in exploration.

“Mmmm.” You moan once more, refusing to think about how long you’ve been fighting the urge to kiss him too.

A clearing throat interrupts you and Bucky pulls back, breaking your kiss with a loud smack.

Still wrapped in his arms, both you and Bucky look towards the door and find Steve with his arms crossed over his wide chest, his face fixed into a frown.

“This isn’t what it looks like.” Bucky says quickly.

“Really?!”

“Okay, it’s exactly what it looks like.” Bucky relents.

“Bucky!” You complain, trying to worm out of his grip but he tightens his arms around you.

“What? Lying gets us nowhere. Come on, can’t we just give in to this? It was going to happen eventually, and I’m tired of sleeping by myself.” Bucky whines.

“I didn’t know Bucky Barnes was such a whiner.” You argue.

“Come on! Please, let me sleep with you guys. I hate that big empty bed.”

“Why are you so need?” You fight.

Steve rolls his eyes and disappears into the hall.

An hour and a half later, both you and Bucky approach Steve who has been in the kitchen cooking while you and Bucky cleaned the laundry room trying hard not to kiss again and also trying hard to figure out what this means for all three of you.

Steve, who’s already sitting at the table, is busy serving three plates with barbecue glazed chicken, corn, broccoli, and brown rice.

“Steve?” You probe, but he doesn’t turn to look at you.

“Steve?” Bucky tries but Steve only pours three large glasses of sweet tea and sits back down.

“Hey, this isn’t fair.” You finally growl, exploding with the guilt you feel over him catching you making out with Bucky. “How do you think I’ve felt every single time I walk in on you and James doing stuff?”

“Awe, darling, not James again.”

“You’re James when you make me jealous!” You tell him angrily and poke his chest with your index finger.

Ow. Muscles.

“Steve,” You push on. “I know that was probably really surprising to walk in on, but I can’t ask you to give up Bucky because I know you love him and Bucky deserves to be happy, too. Both of you do. And…he’s…a pain in my ass most of the time but he can also be really sweet, mostly when you’re not around. I didn’t realize that I’d started to not dislike him until the past month.”

“A whole month?” Bucky asks, blushing as he reaches over and places his hand on your hip, tickling you there over your dress.

“Bucky,” You chastise him.

“What? I just didn’t know you’ve liked me for so long. Kinda makes me wanna kiss you again.”

“Seriously? Right now? I’m trying to keep my boyfriend, dumbass. Can’t you just…zip it? Or something?”

Bucky laughs. “You found us a funny one, Steve.”

You glare at Bucky but when you turn to look at Steve, he’s smiling softly, which stuns you into silence.

“Can we tell her? Please? This is torturing her.” Bucky begs Steve and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Come here, hon.” He says, opening his right arm for you to beckon you closer.

You hurry to him, eager to be in his good graces but also plotting how you’re going to get back at both of them for this because it sounds like they’ve talked about this, the three of you, being a possibility before.

He pulls you onto his lap and pushes your hair back off of your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N, Bucky’s not lying. We’ve been talking about how we can keep this thing—the three of us under one roof—going. I know that it’s been hurting you to see me with Buck and I just said it off-hand, ‘Wouldn’t it be great if you and she got together?’ I only half meant it. Less than half. I don’t want to share you.”

“And I don’t wanna share you.” You assure him.

“I’m totally okay with being shared.” Bucky chimes in and both you and Steve laugh.

“He’s my best friend.” Steve whispers to you, though Bucky can clearly still hear the two of you. “I-I can’t live without him, Y/N. I love him.”

“I know. And…honestly Steve, so do I.” You sigh but then feel two large arms wrap around you.

“You love me, darling?” Bucky asks, his deep voice serious in your ear.

The new tone makes him sound so different you almost doubt whether he’s the same person.

“You drive me crazy.” You tell him, turning to look at him.

He pulls back to look you in the eyes but keeps his arms around you, settled on his knees.

“But yes. I do love you Bucky. I don’t know why-”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But I love you.”

Bucky reaches up to pull you down for a long hot kiss, emotional and heavy with meaning before he pulls back and looks at Steve.

“Can we do this?” He asks, unsure and still serious which is throwing you.

You haven’t seen Bucky be this sincere since Steve brought him home and he met you for the first time.

Steve smiles down at Bucky before he leans down to meet his lips in a slow burning kiss, years of love and devotion pouring into it and for the first time, you’re not jealous. You really do just want them to be happy together. Hopefully they have room in their hearts for you too?

When Steve pulls away, he smiles lovingly at Bucky then turns to you and pulls you into a burning kiss, new love, searing and needy pouring into you from his lips.

“We can do this.” He says as he pulls away.

“Fuck yeah.” Bucky celebrates then gets to his feet. “Who wants ice cream?”

“We don’t have ice cream.” You laugh, leaning in against Steve’s chest while still perched on his lap.

“I’ll go get some. I’ll just run to the bodega downstairs. No fun stuff until I get back.” He insists, pointing at you specifically.

“Why are you telling me?”

“I’ve been listening to you and Steve for months. You’re the animal in bed. No fun stuff, darling. Wait for me.” He rushes out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

“Put on a shirt, dumbass!” You shout after him then turn to kiss Steve senseless. You’ve got a few minutes of personal make out time and before your two-some becomes a three-some, you’re going to milk this alone time as much as you can.

Steve laughs against your lips, then cups both sides of your face as he pushes that kiss farther and slides his hand up to the zipper on your dress.

“Hey!” Bucky shouts from the kitchen doorway.

Steve’s hand releases your zipper.

“Wait for me.” Bucky orders and you hear the Winter Soldier in his tone and somehow it just turns you on more making you itch for his quick return.

Forever Tag List @until-theend-oftheline @jessieray98 @dsakita @coldfacedwarf @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @fairislesheets @jewelofwinter @mannls @moonlessnight14 @sovereignoblivious @pandazlazykid @lilulo-12 @moli1497 @shifutheshihtzu @the-real-mary-jane @pastelxvirgo @just4muggles @vulpecula-minor @wildefire @mdgrdians @tiffanynguyen03 @shield-agent78 @i-cant-shine-without-darkness @the-wayward-robot @babytrollgirl @alagalaska @sincerelytlh @theonelittleone @sea040561 @xrosegoldwolfx @peppermintvanillaa @awkwardfangirl2014 @toffeecoloredqueen @crist1216 @xxloki81xx @idk-random-fan-girl @romimiux @badassbaker @this-side-of-midnight5 @booklover2929 @natura1phenomenon @xlittlestarling

[vldaera]

task .002—

with special thanks for, and featuring, @vldareum​—

JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager yes ys i kniw JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager ill addition 4 fanny pack outing later :P JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager i’m bussy rite now tho ;)  it’ areum time MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Busy doing what?! What’s Areum time?! JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager s MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera TT MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera, why did you send a winky face? Is Areum okay? MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera please I do not have time for this you are so aggravating JEON AERA ✉ ⇢ manager ;) ;) ;_   MANAGER ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Aera!!

Aera’s not so mean that she leaves their manager on delivered when she knows she’s probably gonna bust a nerve; no, she chooses to leave her on open, instead, so she knows she’s at least alive. Because for tonight, she has planning to do.

Phase One of Operation: Surprise the Socks Off Areum is long since over and was a huge success. Phase One is the simplest part: text Areum to come over tonight for another Star Wars marathon. They never got to the sequels.

Phase Two is the thick of it: cook a fancy dinner fit for a princess, hire a masseuse to pamper both of them in— ahem— Aera’s brand new(!) apartment, turn on absolutely any movie of Areum’s choice, give each other mani/pedis, and then end the night with giving her sister a woven bracelet that Aera personally made for Areum herself.

Phase Three: catalogue every second of it on her phone and watch the look on her sister’s face.

Ha. And Areum thinks it’s just going to be Star Wars.

It’s a bit of a thank you, in a way, for her sister to know that Aera really appreciates her, and also to let her know that Aera’s doing just fine, thank you very much, living alone. Sure, it gets lonely sometimes, but besides Areum, Naeun comes over! And Saeun! And Hamin! And... that’s pretty much it...

Clowns! One time Aera hired a clown to come and entertain her while she cried on the sofa over a stupid romantic comedy. It was sorta funny to watch how obviously uncomfortable the clown was ‘cause she paid him double to leave a kid’s party early to keep her company. He wasn’t expecting one of the members of one of the nation’s top girl groups to be sprawled out on the floor with a bottle of wine, she doesn’t think, but whatever. As you can see, she’s having the time of her life.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Step One of Phase Two (that’s right, she’s that organized) is to go figure out what to eat. After their excursion to Tokyo, she’s thinking some miso broth ramen and spicy tuna rolls, so she makes a quick stop by the market to go pick up some seaweed and fish. She has a plan and everything; she’s gonna cut up some seaweed to say “I Love You, Areum!” and stick it in the broth like alphabet soup. It’s gonna be so cute—

Hey, what’s that? Bunnies for adoption??!! Ohmigod no way!!!

Aera hasn’t ever whipped a car into a parking lot so fast. Ten minutes and 40,000 KRW later, she drives home with a bag full of seaweed and fish and the newest addition to the family, John Brad Crumb. She’s pulling away when she realizes 1) she made a HUGE typo on the iPad, 2) both “John Brad Crumb Jeon” and “Jeon John Brad Crumb” are stupid names, and 3), though it came with the intention of paying homage to her fans, with Aera’s Earthshine nickname being John Area, she’s effectively just named a rabbit after herself.

But hey, the adoption certificate says John Brad Crumb, so that’s what he is.

She pulls into her apartment and the elevator dings to the top floor. It’s only recently that she managed to unpack, so she unloads all the groceries into the fridge and puts the rice in the cooker, then gets to work dedicating a sizable corner of her living room for John Brad Crumb. One could call it John’s area.

One thing to note about Aera is that what can go wrong, will go wrong, but it’ll go wrong with a flourish and probably fireworks, too. The cage is actually pretty well set up, and she wants to do this cute thing where she gives Areum her bracelet by wrapping it around John Brad Crumb’s neck like a collar, and she’s in the middle of doing so when she smells something. Umm... what’s burning?

She rushes to the kitchen and smacks her head when she realizes that she forgot to put water in the rice. Now what?

Aera stands there for at least a full solid minute watching the rice as she wonders what her reaction should be. She wonders if it’ll catch fire.

Um, duh.

Fortunately, she keeps a Brita filter in the fridge, and so she begins pouring water on the flames. Really she lucked out, because she manages to put the fire out without the help of the fire department, but her rice cooker is, like, totaled. That’s fine! She’s adaptive. Instead, she decides to cook it manually. She definitely won’t forget the water this time, she thinks smugly as she fills the water almost to the top of the pot. After adding the rice, she returns to the living room...

...only to find that John Brad Crumb has all but gnawed the bracelet to pieces.

“John Brad Crumb-ah! Are you serious?! You are so unaware.”

She lifts the bunny and picks the dangling threads from his mouth, pouting as she witnesses the shreds of what she made with such love and care. Luckily for Aera (and also for John Brad Crumb, whom she’ll forgive eventually because he already means the world to her), it seems to be salvageable? Maybe?

John Brad Crumb fits in the front pocket of her hoodie, so she puts him and some rabbit food in there and returns to the kitchen where the rice has, obviously, boiled over. Cursing, Aera cleans up the mess and tastes the rice that was saved. Well... it’s not bad.

Putting the ramen to a boil, she checks the clock and sees that she’s got a little over an hour before Areum’s supposed to arrive. She fortunately had the hindsight to buy pre-made tare and simmer the broth this morning, so it’s not like she has to simmer things for three hours. but it’s still kinda crunch time.

You know what she just realized? She totally forgot to buy one of those bamboo rolling mats. Printer paper should work... right?

“Let’s do this, John Brad Crumb-ah. For Areummie!”

HHHHHHHHHH OHHHHHH MY GOD ROLLING SUSHI IS SO HARD is what she’d say if there was anyone around to hear her, but there’s not. It’s written clearly across her face, though. The rice is too mushy and also the printer paper keeps falling apart, so it’s kinda... papery rice? Wrapped in nori? Yuck.

It’s kind of a disaster, so she decides that it doesn’t have to be pretty and abandons the paper in favor of trying to hand roll the sushi, which naturally doesn’t work as the sushi falls apart. The result is, like, this weird sushi salad thing that honestly works in the same way that a poke bowl does. Whatever; it’ll have to do. Twenty minutes till Areum gets here.

Turning around, she spoons some noodles into a pot and tastes the broth that she made. Okay, what...? That’s actually super good. Pleased with herself, she dumps in the sauce. But again, this is Aera, and what goes wrong is that, facepalming, she realizes that what she thought was chicken sauce was actually chocolate sauce... ugh...

The whole thing has to be tossed now, so Aera does so quickly and checks the clock. Ten minutes till Areum gets here.

In a last-ditch effort, she throws some instant ramen on the stove and bounds into the kitchen to comb out and rebraid Areum’s bracelet, when her phone pings.

SEOUL THERAPEUTICS ✉ ⇢ jeon aera Jeon Aera-ssi, this is Kim Daeho, owner/operator of Seoul Therapeutics. I am texting to inform you that your masseuse has fallen ill and will be unable to arrive tonight—

(Somewhere, on the other side of town, Kim Daeho, owner/operator of Seoul Therapeutics, feels a chill run down his spine.)

—and, as all other masseurs are booked, I have issued a refund to your account. We apologize for the inconvenience.

Well, she tried. She really did. Sorry, Areum, she really wanted to throw you a big thank-you dinner, but turns out Aera’s actually going into hermitage instead. Would you like to come visit her cave? Oh, please do make yourself at home, don’t mind those scorpions crawling on her bed made out of twigs and sadness...

She stands in the kitchen, contemplating the best mountain beneath which to move all her things, before deciding that she just moved and it would be too much of an inconvenience. The weird chocolate ramen is in the trash. That salad thing is on the counter. The movies aren’t rented, the nail polish isn’t bought, and the bracelet is wearable, but ugly. The instant ramen is literally what they ate everyday for years, and also the weight of John Brad Crumb on her hoodie is starting to hurt her neck. One minute until Areum—

Ding dong!

“Gah! John Brad Crumb-ah, we can’t let her see us like this!”

With a certain kind of determination that only Jeon Aera possesses, she decides to make her grand escape. But the reason it’s Jeon Aera name-brand determination is because it wouldn’t be Aera’s if it wasn’t tinted with just a little bit of recklessness, ‘cause in her attempt to escape the embarrassment, she tries to escape out the front door, where Areum is standing.

“Areummie!”

Her face flushes bright red and she wonders what Areum thinks of the sight before her: Aera, in a hoodie, with a rabbit in her pocket and a ratty bracelet in her hand, covered in chocolate stains and mushy rice and her hair falling out of her bun.

It’s then that she realizes that she probably does know what Areum’s thinking, and that’s why she loves her twin so much in the first place. There’s no one else she’d rather go on this adventure with. No one else would so easily deal with her. Of course her sister wouldn’t judge her for the disaster that was Aera’s poorly planned surprise. Just seeing Areum makes the embarrassment wash away, and Aera gives her a smile. Thanks for being there for me. Thanks for smiling when I’m ditzy instead of rolling your eyes. Thanks for supporting me through thick and thin. Thanks for being the best sister a girl could ask for.

“Thanks for coming, Areummie. Let’s order in some takeout. I’ve got the craziest story to tell you.”

[gguktastic]

Some Things Shouldn't Be Kept Secret.

A/N - I am exhausted. This has taken three days. My finals are coming up in a month. I have had to complete the question and answers to two chapters in our 2nd Language Studies, which is Hindi. I had to write two informal letters and a 7-page-long essay on what I did when I visited my native village, how I spent NYE, and the essay was to be written about a house on fire. Then Maths. You'd better be happy with this one, guys. This is VERY LONG, so sorry if you don't like such long imagines. Also what even is the title I am horrible at that stuff. Also, I had the inspiration for the 'diary' part of the fic (WOOP WOOP SPOILER) from somewhere else, whether it was a published book or an imagine, it just crossed my mind and I wrote it down. GENRE - Fluff. WARNINGS - None. // It had been a particularly great day for me yesterday. I had begun the day with a much-needed mug of coffee, and finally having a bagel after several weeks, managing not to burn it, for once. After an insanely amazing and relaxing shower, I had flopped onto my bed, logged onto tumblr, and stayed there for the next 3 hours in the fluffiest onesie I owned. #BestMorningEver. Then, when I finally decided to head out of the house to go pick up some groceries, I ran into an old friend. Not any old friend, mind you, my best friend from when I lived in Lancashire. Also, it doesn't hurt to mention, that the 'old friend' I bumped into was world-famous-YouTuber, Phil Lester I had been looking for microwaveable popcorn with the extra butter at Tesco, and then, when I finally found it, it was too high for me to reach. Tesco with it's bloody high shelves. I was looking around for help, when a shopping trolley rammed me from behind. I almost fell onto the dirty linoleum floor of the super market when I tried to steady myself on my cart, which was right in front of me. Of course, me being an incredible clumsy person, tripped thrice over my own legs while trying to do so, and pushed my cart away from me, which collided into a wall, the groceries spilling out. I had, however, steadied myself - successfully and without dropping anything - on a rack beside me, thankfully on my feet instead of being flat on my stomach. (A/N - That has actually happened to me, guys. It has been inspired by real, true life events). Now you're wondering- [Y/N], so you had the best morning ever with coffee, un-burnt bagels, and then three hours of scrolling through tumblr in your fluffiest onesie, but when you said 'particularly great day' - well, doesn't that mean the whole day went by smoothly and don't you think almost falling over onto your stomach in Tesco and ramming your shopping cart against a wall in the space of 7 seconds puts a sour spot on your day? Well, it was all okay because the person that rammed into me from behind was my long-lost best friend, who recognised me as soon as I turned around to look at him and graciously accept any apology he offered, and smothered me in the warmest hug ever. I tensed up and pulled myself away from them. It took me a few seconds of scrutinising their hopeful face to realise who the man was. When I did realise, my mouth dropped open. "Oh my god, are you Phil? Phil Lester?" I said, overwhelmed, as he just nodded his head enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, I am! And would you be [Y/N] from Rawtenstall, Lancashire?" He asked, hope shining in his eyes. I too nodded enthusiastically and, after a second of grinning at each other, he grasped my hands and looked me in the eyes. "Don't worry, [Y/N], I don't hold you responsible for the dead rabbit on my parents' bed incident." I burst out laughing as I recalled Phil's sad face as his mum yelled at him for putting a dead rabbit on her bed, something which had been my idea. He pulled me into a hug again and, this time, I hugged back. "It's been so long, [Y/N]," Phil said as we hugged. "No kidding, Mister Famous," I joked. He pulled away and began to say something when he looked over my shoulder to see my groceries fallen out of my trolley. He frowned and ran to it, and, in a minute, got my trolley back to me, the cracked eggs now paid for and replaced. I thanked him. "No problem, [Y/N]! It's so nice meeting you after all of these years! How about I give you my phone number and address so we can meet up at my place sometime?" He suggested. "Why not, Philly! Here you go," I said, unlocking my phone and giving it to him, allowing him to put in save his contact as, of course, Phil Striker 🦁🐗. He put in his address in notes, and handed my phone back to me. "Well, I think I should leave now-" I cut Phil off. "But could you just get me the extra butter popcorn from up there before you leave, Phil?" I asked, and he happily obliged, using his height to my advantage. I grabbed my popcorn from him as I gave him a small wave, him walking away, waving back at me. Coming back home, I lounged around, eating some Nutella from straight out of the jar, when I decided to text Phil about our plans. [Y/N]- Hi, Phil! It's [Y/N] here. So, about those palms for meeting up- don't wanna seem too eager, but are you free tomorrow? I could come over to your place if you like! Within minutes, Phil replied, Phil Striker 🦁🐗 - Hey [Y/N]! Btw what palms are you talking about? I blushed and face palmed when I saw the typo. (A/N - That was an actual typo I made while writing this. I decided to leave it in). [Y/N] - Oh Lord Jesus I hate myself. I meant plans, not palms. 😓 Phil Striker 🦁🐗 - hey that's k I was just joking around with ya! Oh and I'm completely free tomorrow, except that I need to film a video, so would you do it with me? I want to do the 'long-lost BFF challenge tag' with you. Let's see how much you and I remember 😜 and then we can go out for dinner, though do you mind if Dan (room mate fellow YouTuber and current BFFL - soz) tags along? I laughed at his message. He wanted to do a video with me? I decided to give the man-child what he wanted. [Y/N] - Whew thanks! Oh and sure no prob, I'll be glad to (tho you'll have to help me with my camera shyness k) and I am offended Phil Lester you replaced me how could you?! Jk don't worry ofc he can tag along no prob. Phil replied 10 minutes later. Phil Striker 🦁🐗 - Sorry [Y/N], Dan yelled at me for eating his cereal without his permission ): and thank you! Ps Whew for a second I was worried you were actually offended. I grinned at my screen. [Y/N] - You need to learn how to be a good room mate Phil Michael Lester you cereal-thief. And no prob, I'm sure Dan will be lovely as well (: haha don't worry I won't ever be offended by that we had lost contact for so many years after all! See you then, gtg, the monster in my stomach wants some food. Your place tomorrow, then? I'll be there by 5:00? If you're not okay with that time or want to shift to another day that's fine (: I put my phone aside to get a cookie, but was interrupted by the harsh 'ping!' Of my phone. I sat back down on the couch. Phil Striker 🦁🐗 - No no no that time and place are k! And I know I have a problem I need to be a better room mate and deserve to live in shame (A/N - Phil missed the 'to leave' after the 'to live' high five if you got my reference before reading this A/N. Back to the story now). I smiled. [Y/N] - Sure, Phil, see you tommorow! Also, you were very correct about having to live in great shame. Jk. You're AMAZING, PHIL (Bd-Dm-tss). Bye - for now! My phone 'ping!'- ed with one last text from Phil. Phil Striker 🦁🐗 - Hmm I read that pun out to Dan and he's still cringing you already have a bad impression well bye to you too and see you tomorrow, I have to go to Tesco (again) to get some more cereal for Dan because I forgot to earlier today ): the things this boy makes me do. I laughed and just responded with a 'Haha, bye!', as I tossed my phone onto my couch, it landing safely, but not before doing three triple loops in the air and almost giving me a heart attack. I softly laughed at yesterday's memories, as I waited for the lift to reach the 11th floor of the building. 9... 10... I nervously bounced on the balls of my feet, careful not to be too excited, scared that the lift would shudder and fall down. 11. I heaved a sigh of relief - the lift was incredibly slow, and I was not doing too well in such a cramped space. It felt like the nervous energy radiating from me bounced off of the four walls, ricocheting back into me. Did that make sense? I don't even know. The lift doors opened, and I was out the second they did - closed, cramped, spaces are not my friends. At least I had stopped having panic attacks now. Phil, however, had helped me out every time I had a panic attack on a lift, when we were still in contact. I had to use a lift almost everyday while I was an intern at the Rawtenstall Times after a course in Journalism at university. I remember having his contact open on my phone, and calling him as soon as I got into whichever lift was empty and functional. He would stay on the line with me for whatever length of time I needed him to be. Thankfully for me - and our phone bills - never in my life have I had to suffer through several minutes and even hours of pure terror in case of the lift braking down. After seven years, I finally had the option to call him if I had a panic attack, and I was finally getting to sit down and talk to him about the most random of things like we used to. I knocked on the white door. Just two layers of paint and a moderately thick wall separating me from my once-best-friend. I anxiously drummed my fingers on my thigh, my eyes flitting from one spot on the monotone grey carpet to another. Finally, after a painstakingly long minute, I was blessed with the visual and sound of the doorknob turning. As the door opened, I grinned wide and prepared to greet my friend who opened the door - except that instead of the raven black hair and blue-green-yellow eyes, what I saw were twinkling brown eyes, ones you could easily get lost into, and a slightly-wavy chocolate brown fringe. "Not to sound rude, but-may I know who you are?" The man asked. My grin, which had faltered just for a second, returned as a much smaller version of itself. "Hi, I'm [Y/N]. I'm here to meet Phil," I said, extending my hand to the incredibly tall man, not unlike Phil. He opened the door wider, and took my hand, shaking it. "Oh, nice meeting you, [Y/N]. Phil told me you'd be coming by today. My name is Dan, by the way, I'm Phil's room mate," he said, and I smiled at him. I opened my mouth to say that I had heard about him, when realisation dawned in his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, come on in!" He said, and I thanked him before entering. Dan led me to the lounge, where we were making small talk, when Phil walked in, wearing black skinny jeans and a red-and-black button up. His eyes brightened up. "Oh, hello, [Y/N]! Dan, this is the friend I was telling you about. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, [Y/N], I was actually in the shower," he said, sounding truly apologetic. I laughed. "Don't worry, Phil, I don't mind. Also, I got that you were in the shower as soon as I walked in, hearing your soulful and romantic rendition of 'My Heart Will Go On'," I said, making Dan guffaw. Phil's cheeks were painted with an angry red blush as he mumbled something about Dan and I not recognising his artistic abilities. "Well, [Y/N], even after you have mercilessly shamed me for honing my artistic abilities, I'm still willing to do that video with you, for I am the kind prince of England," he said, taking a 'regal' pose. I laughed again, getting up and off the couch, as Dan just rolled his eyes and leant back in what he had told me was his 'Sofa Crease'. "Have fun, you guys," Dan said, as we disappeared into Phil's room. // "I completely and utterly destroyed you at the challenge tag, [Y/N]," said Phil proudly as we got out of the room, after filming the video for his channel. I shrugged. "Well, at least I remembered all of the embarrassing stories, so that's fine," I said. "But you could've stalked me on social media and found out all of those facts about me, and yet, I WON," Phil said, smug smirk placed upon his face. Dan interrupted our small little argument. "That aside- Phil, you never told me how you 'bumped into' [Y/N] yesterday," he said, eyebrows raised as his eyes remained focused on the screen of his laptop. "I met her at Tesco, I actually accidentally rammed into her with my shopping cart from behind-" Dan snorted. "Wow, Phil, you meet a friend after seven years and how? Because you rammed your shopping cart into them. Good going, mate," He said, not once looking up at us as he slowly munched on Doritos from a bag and scrolled through, from what I could see, tumblr. I sat down beside him before putting my hand into the bag and starting to eat the Doritos. Either Dan didn't notice, or he just didn't mind. "You know how clumsy I can be! Anyways, when I did, [Y/N] almost fell down but, using my super strength, I caught the damsel in distress in my muscular arms. She -" I cut Phil off. "-is so horrified by the lies you are telling your best friend that she has decided to ask you to tell the truth," I said, glaring at Phil. He sighed. "Okay, I'll tell you the truth- or is it?" He said, wiggling his eyebrows. Dan and I looked at him, annoyed. "Okay, fine. So what happened was that [Y/N] tried to steady herself by grasping onto the cart, but tripped thrice over her own feet and pushed the cart away, which then rammed into the wall and most of her groceries spilt out while [Y/N] managed to actually and successfully steady herself using the ledge of one of the shelves nearby." Dan looked throughly amused. "And then, when I turned around to look at the person who had rammed into me and then graciously accept any apology they offered, Phil hugged me," I said, and Dan's head snapped up, eyes wide. "You did WHAT?!" He said, looking at Phil, who looked just as confused as I was. "Dan, I just hugged my friend-" Dan cut him off. "You idiot! What if it had been some other random person who you didn't know instead of [Y/N]? You could've been reported to the authorities!" He said, almost yelling at Phil. I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Phil, what if I was a middle aged mum whose husband was just down the aisle, gazing lovingly at his beautiful wife?" I said. "Okay, you could've been anyone, but I recognised you from the tattoo on your wrist-It's a heart-rate thingy with the twenty one pilots logo at the end and, below it, in neat cursive, 'Stay Alive' is written. Which middle aged mum has a tattoo like that?" He said. "Okay, so you have a valid point," I said. "Now, who wants some brownies?" // I groaned as I turned around in bed, trying to shut the alarm off. It was a Sunday,and I didn't have to go to work. Yesterday had been the 10th time in a row that I had dropped by Dan and Phil's place. Dan, Phil, and I had plans to hang out this whole week as well, and I was supposed to be over at the 'Phlat' (or the 'Phalace Of Dreams', as Dan sometimes referred to it as) in an hour to help Dan film a video. I, of course, would be behind the camera, not in view of it. I lazily got up from bed, walking into the bathroom. I let the water heat as I got out of my clothes, stepping into the now pleasantly hot water. I just stood in the cubicle, letting the water run down my body, relaxing my muscles and taking away all of the exhaustion from the day before with it as it fell down the drain. 15 minutes later, I was done, as I stepped out of the shower wrapped in a fluffy towel. Seeing as I was already comfortable being in my pyjamas around Dan and Phil, I decided to wear an old MCR merch tee with my trademark light-wash skinny jeans and worn-out sneakers. Today, I felt extravagant, so I took a cab from my place to the Phlat, seeing as it was a 15 minute walk and I was not in the mood. As I sat in the cab, I put my hand in my fringed satchel to get some money out, only to be met with the sinking feeling of not having my trusty notebook there. It was a small A5 sized leather bound notepad, into which I jotted down my reminders, lists and also about the highlights of my day. It was the first thing I'd rescue if my house was on fire, that's how important it was. And it definitely wasn't at my place. It must be at Dan and Phil's place. I let out a sigh of relief at the fact that if it wasn't at my place or in my bag, it would be at Dan and Phil's, and they knew better than to peek in it. That's because Phil had once tried and then got a pillow thrown at him at full force. They wouldn't dare. They better wouldn't. // As soon as I let myself into the house after Dan opened the door for me, I had known something was wrong. Without so much as a 'hello' to me, he told me to follow him. Dan led us over to the lounge, and asked me to take a seat as he closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath as he took the seat beside me, looking down at his feet. "So, I found something..." He said, all flustered. Forget the diary, Dan's behaviour was #1 on 'The List Of Things [Y/N] Is Currently Concerned About.' "Continue," I said. "And, um- there were some things written about me which flattered me," he mumbled, me, however, being able to catch every word he said. "And...?" He pulled his hands out from behind his back, and my whole world came crashing down. My diary. "May I ask, Miss [Y/L/N], what this object is?" He asked, any trace of being flustered gone. His nervous twitching of the left hand was now replaced by a confident and smug smile on his face that he tried, and failed, to conceal. It was my turn to blush. "I- uh- I work at a- a newspaper office," I said. "And t- that's just the diary I write in. You know ideas f- for my column." I hadn't been lying about me working at a newspaper office. I was interning at the Daily Mail, where I would soon get a job under the Teen Magazine section, where I would write articles for teens. (A/N- I know nothing about the Daily Mail. Just making things up over here). However, I did lie about writing down ideas for my column in that diary. In that moment, if the world hasn't crashed badly enough around me before, the pieces burst into flames as Dan opened to a page and started to read. "18th of February, 2017, I just came back from the Phlat and had a genuinely good time with Dan. When I looked him up, I mean- he was actually so good looking- but now that I know what he is really like, I think I might really like him. 21st of February, 2017, woah, just had the best day ever with Dan! Phil was out today, so Dan called me over to help film a video of his. Later, we had Chinese take out for dinner, and I felt my gut do a 180 whenever we made physical contact. I'm actually falling for him hard, aren't I?" Dan snapped the book shut and looked up at my face, which was painted with a violent crimson. "You just go on and on about how you love my smile, my eyes, me, for a whole week, [Y/N]. And then, I stumbled across this paragraph," he said, and I knew which paragraph he was talking about. "28th of February, 2017, I'm still at their place, but they're currently not in the room, so I thought, why not? Just wanted to write about how I utterly wanted to kiss Dan Howell then and there after he opened he door, shirtless, hair not straightened. Well, they're back now, so goodbye." Dan smiled bashfully at me. Some of the blush had started to creep back into his cheeks, and I was currently biting my bottom lip, looking down at my tattoo, very embarrassed. Again, I felt my guts do a one-eighty as Dan lifted my chin up with his thumb, making me look at him. I fiddled with the aquamarine ends of my black hair, as I looked up at Dan with my green eyes. He leaned down, our foreheads touching, and smiled at me. Those dimples are going to be the death of me. "[Y/N], like how you wanted to kiss me yesterday when I opened the door for you, I have wanted to do that ever since Phil told me about the bad pun you had texted him, before I had even seen you. I've been madly and truly in love with you, [Y/N]. It seems impossible that these feelings could develop in just 10 days, but they did, didn't they?" Saying so, he put his lips upon mine. The first thing that crossed my mind was that this was the first kiss that had held any meaning to me. Sure, I had had my first kiss at a party while we played Spin The Bottle, but they didn't open up the gates to zoo in '[Y/N]-tummy-land'. I remembered that my breath could be stale by now, considering the fact that I had run out of tic-tacs to eat in the lift, but reminded myself that I had brushed not an hour ago. I felt my eyes flutter shut as Dan pulled me closer to him, hoisting me onto his lap. I tangled a hand in his curly hobbit-hair, the other on his cheek. He ran a hand through my freshly-washed, soft, and untangled hair, easing it out of his ponytail. His other hand encircled my waist, pulling me closer every time I pulled my body away from his. At this point, a kiss would've probably gotten much heated, but our's still remained sweet and innocent, yet heavily passionate. We slowly pulled away from each other, my eyes still closed as I touched my forehead to his. He bumped our noses together, making me giggle. Just then, the door opened and Phil entered. I turned to the door, eyes wide in horror, while Dan just gave Phil a crooked smile. Phil, in reply, almost dropped his laptop, and rushed out of the room, but not before Dan yelled out - "I JUST KISSED HER!" I, of course, blushed. The 'being flustered' soon changed to confusion. "Dan," I asked, "Why was he so terrified? I mean, sure, he acts like he's an innocent ray of sunshine, but we weren't even kissing that time! Why did he run away like that?" Dan turned away from the door, and looked at me. He grinned at me before replying: "Didn't you see? The camera was pointed towards us - he was doing a live stream."

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by R. Ann Parris on The Prepper Journal.

An overabundance of eggs or milk is a good problem to have. It’s one some families will never experience, but it’s a common enough problem that it pops up annually on Facebook groups, homesteading and preparedness forums, and family gatherings.

I’m a huge proponent of various preservation methods, from freezing and oiling eggs to churning and pressing home-raised milk into salted butters and hard cheeses for later use. I’m especially a fan of the pre-modern storage methods. Sometimes, though, there’s just not enough time or space to develop skills or store it all.

If we have livestock and pets, they’re happy to help us deal with those gluts, as well as our table and garden scraps. In many cases, they’ll reward us with increased health or production as a result. Almost always, if we’re paying for our feed anyway, labor or cash, using our gluts can help us cut some of the costs.

Incredible Edible Egg

One of those things that so commonly pops up at day classes, tours, and online is an overabundance of eggs. There are many ways to use and store them, but sometimes there are still eggs ad nauseam.

Easy fix. It starts with scrambling them. You can cook a whole lot of eggs really quickly in either a steam table tray or a lasagna dish. You can even use a big metal mixing bowl.

  You do want to scramble them, or boil and mince them. Otherwise, birds and other animals start associating those ovals with tasty nibbles.

Once that habits starts, it’s hard to break and it regularly spreads.

(Psst … Watch hogs – They don’t need the introduction to know eggs are tasty. It’s in their genetic coding to eat eggs of pretty much any kind.)

Eggs are fantastic due to the protein content – it’s usually proteins we’re paying the most for in our pet and livestock feeds. And while rich, most animals have no problem consuming them.

That makes them an excellent addition or replacement for dogs, cats, any poultry, and pigs – especially the young birds that need higher levels of protein to grow, carnivourous pets, and high-production laying hens.

  Whole, Raw Milk

Like eggs, milk is an excellent source of protein and calories. Most poultry is sensitive to milk and other dairy products, however, cats, dogs, and pigs can handle raw milks and pasteurized goat or sheep milk just fine, even if they’re lactose intolerant with supermarket milks.

Pasteurization destroys some of the milk enzymes as well as bacteria and viruses that cause illness. It’s those enzymes – still present in raw milk and soft products made from raw milk – that make it more digestible. Goat and sheep milk have different types of fats and enzymes, which leave them more consumable for more of the population than cattle milks.

(Psst … Penn State did a dairy waste milk study in 2015. They suggest not giving finishing hogs commercial milk due to antibiotic presence, but saw 6-7% cost decreases when nursery hogs were offered that waste milk.)

Whole milk is too rich a resource to let it go to waste. It’s also rich enough that if it’s being given as more than a dribble for cats and dogs, or a quart or half gallon for hogs, it’s worth doing some figuring with a Pearson square for proteins (and calories) so you can cut back on other feeds.

That’s the point, after all. Using up our gluts, but doing it in a way that doesn’t increase the cost we’ve already put into producing those gluts.

Livestock Trash Compactors

In many cases, chickens and hogs will eat anything that doesn’t eat them first. It’s one of the things that makes them useful on a homestead of any size. Goats that can help keep fields and fences cleared are also big winners.

Chickens especially, though, sometimes just aren’t capable of being foragers, and won’t survive or thrive on the same levels of feed substitution.

There’s a big difference between homestead-bred dual-purpose heritage breed birds that hunt but are easy to handle like the Dominique, and something like the white cross hybrids that would die of heart attacks or develop broken legs from their own body weight by 9-12 months of age.

There’s also a big difference in birds that have no idea you can peck into the big orange thing for tasty squash and seeds, and birds that grew up thinking it was totally natural to at least attempt to munch anything in the same space as them.

It’s not just the egg-meat yields. As with dipping a chick’s beak to show it how to eat and drink, some of our livestock have lost the skill to feed themselves, even heritage breeds.

If you’re going to try to use some of the garden produce to replace feeds, especially, you’ll want one that’s been bred to have an adaptable stomach.

If you’re specifically looking for livestock that will do well on a varied diet, especially if you’re after bug hunters and foraging birds, the Livestock Conservancy is a good site to visit. The mypetchickens.com site is also an excellent resource, but the Livestock Conservancy is nice enough to make at-a-glance comparison charts for us.

They compile ratings that include foraging skills (and predator savviness) along with other breed information.

Working with breeds that can do well on self-found foods, rough browse over higher-protein, higher-calorie hays and grains – even if their production is lower – isn’t just useful for decreasing glut wastes. The ability to replace feeds, not just give a treat, becomes a sustainability issue for truly long-term disasters.

Cats and ferrets, too, may take a while to warm up to the idea of new foods if they’re straight bag-can animals. I hear there are picky dogs, too. I haven’t actually run into any that aren’t delighted by milk or eggs and scraps, but I hear they’re out there. Somewhere.

  Calories Matter

Sometimes as I follow along various blogs and social media, I end up feeling sorry for somebody. That was the case when I read this article http://farmfolly.com/2011/03/complete-costs-of-raising-pigs/. It’s a fabulous write-up about home-raised hogs, with excellent price and input-output charting.

What I want to draw attention to is what they fed their hogs, and the realizations they reached once it was all said and done.

Two market-sized hogs of a lean, meat-heavy breed consumed 1,350# swine feed, 50# squash (pumpkins), and 38# of eggs (ten eggs per pound, 380 eggs). They got other garden produce as well, but those were the significant sources of proteins and calories.

And in the end, all the labor, cost, water and feed/fertilizer that went into those eggs and pumpkins amounted to barely more than 1 percent of the hogs’ diets.

The author surmises that feeding hogs on grain is inefficient. I have to assume that’s a typo, or a reflection of hogs’ efficiency – not grain efficiency. I feel safer in that assumption since the author makes the point, “We had hoped these would reduce our feed bill. The numbers tell a different story … One really gains a sense for how calorie dense grain is when you realize that 380 eggs and 50 pounds of squash represent the calorie contents of just 18 pounds of grain.”

That’s not intended to blast a hole in everything I’ve said about using up gluts. It’s intended to make us aware of the effort-reward scale that will be vital if we’re trying to cut cords now or planning to live off our land at some point.

What we feed – to which animals – should factor in the type of animals.

Those 380 eggs go almost nowhere between two hogs – 1.4-1.6% of their total feed for the ones raised by that blogger. That’s about 2 days at market weight, off the annual yield of a high-producing layer – which is being fed as well, and high-quality specialized feed at that.

However, 380 eggs between my two smaller hounds (45-55#) is protein and a big chunk of calories for 95 meals.

In prepper world-down conversions, I can just about keep those dogs for two months off the annual yield of a single high-yielding hen on bagged feed or a pair of hens fed off mixed forage, garden patrol, and worm bins.

  Then, being me, I bang my head at the thought of feeding an animal that can thrive as an herbivore pumpkins instead of grain.

(Psst … if you can produce 50# of pumpkins, you can produce 18# of wheat, barley and oats – usually with fewer pests, irrigation, and fertilizer, regularly in less time, and reap far higher protein yields while you’re at it, along with bedding straw or mulch.)

When we opt to feed gluts, or aim for production, we need to consider each component in our system, and weigh where our efforts are being placed.  I’m better served using my glut for an animal where it makes a significant difference than I am something where it barely even registers in their feed needs.

That’s one place where a SWOT analysis intended for business practice can be a huge benefit.

For that, I need to have done my homework on each animal. How efficiently they convert those foods depends on calorie and proteins and total bulk needs. It goes back to size, type, and specific breed – and the specific genetic lines of those breeds.

Switching Diets

Whenever we change feeds, it’s a good idea to do so slowly. We also want to be careful how much rich foods we offer at once.

The 10 percent-10 days rule works like a charm for most animals, although I rarely use it since I’ve been hugely lucky with my stock and pets.

If your animals have a history of intolerance or sensitivity, and with young or senior animals, consider moving very slowly indeed. However, animals that often get a variety of foods commonly keep diverse gut bacteria that decreases the risk of having negative reactions.

At some point, if we’re looking at a long-term disaster – whether it’s an extended job loss, an issue that interrupts shipping or our ability to fetch feeds, or a major national or international disaster – we’ll have to consider the sustainability of our animals. Having some tricks in the back pocket to make use of gluts can help us make plans, as well as avoid waste.

    The post Preppers – Got Glut? Cut Feed Bills! appeared first on The Prepper Journal.

from The Prepper Journal Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag