#a.events

[legends-and-savages]

Like for a starter with one of my spooky muses.  Fellow multimuses can let me know which of your muses you want it for through reply or IM.

Options include: D.eacon Frost, D.racula, Blythe, A.eval, R.apunzel, Q.ueenie, N.ewt, L.iv, B.laine, M.ajor,  D.avid, E.ve, M.arcus, D.erek, T.heo, C.orinne, and B.ree

[knightofameris]

c-can i get an oikawa with some bubblegum flavoured lip gloss 🥺🥺🥺 thank you so much in advance! ps i love you and i hope you have a great day

✎ gender. neutral ✎ ameris’ notes. i DONT KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT I LOVE YOU MORE! hope u had a nice one too! (also these are actually short drabbles for once. i didn’t go overboard) 

event still open~

It was so cliche, straight out of a coming of age movie, honestly. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not with the way that Tooru pulled ever so slightly away from you, his lips still hovering over yours and the taste of your bubblegum flavored lip gloss on his lips. 

Tooru didn’t think he liked bubblegum that much. But after that kiss? He's starting to think it’s becoming his favorite flavor, as long as it came from you.

He stared down at you through his long eyelashes, his eyes darted from your lips to your eyes back to your lips. Sliding his hand up your side to the back of your neck, Tooru tilted your head, leaning down to place his lips on yours. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt you kissing back, leaning into him. 

After this, he’d ask you to wear this lip gloss more. 

[talesnbone]

when: may 26, first day of coronan lantern festival who: andres hook and lydia tremaine @lydiatremaine​

the days had seemed like a bit of a whirlwind. shadowborns being expected in one place or another. the only thought that had kept Andres relatively well behaved was the idea that there would be a festival in honor of Rapunzel, or something of that nature. he didn’t give a shite about the women or her kingdom. what mattered to him was that it was another opportunity to have a good piss up. something he certainly craved, almost more than sex at that point. the entire time, he had been on somewhat, good behavior. trying not to call too much attention to himself. to be a good little lap dog for Nikolai as he did errands but he was wearing thin. he was bored. he was not entertained. nor was he very good at being idle. 

he could thank the docks and those that seemed to lurk around even during the daytime for the rum he had gotten. his tongue finally wet in a way that seemed to be more satisfying than so many other things as of late. the flavor something akin to a burning caramel on his tongue and down his throat. heaven of course. with drink in hand, he figured he could make his way back to the square where there were still revelers looking at various little shops. his auradon approved clothing was haphazardly placed on his body. as he absolutely refused to allow his cock to suffocate in the tightness that was the pants he was expected to wear. 

sure, they were most often of a linen or perhaps cotton but there was something about how they were cut that hung in all of the wrong places to him. wearing the pants that he had come with was more comfortable. maybe one would argue the pants of a pirate were more uncomfortable. to that, Andres would tell them to fuck off and be on his way. he wore no ascot and his collar was practically none existent. comfort on the front of his mind. 

Andres made his way through the crowd, caring little for any looks he received, knowing full well he looked that part of a scoundrel. the small pleasures in life were really what mattered. a good drink on his tongue. not a care in the world. it was the sort of life he enjoyed the most. in truth, he liked to be up to no good when i had the urge to be. which more often than not, was all of the time. but he liked the fire. blood on his hands. dirt under his nails. the psychological shite was so damn tiring. sun shimmered on his skin as he eyed the people around. bloody well greatness. 

the only thing that could have made it better, was good company. then, as if the world was answering his prayers, he caught sight of the special kind of red he was familiar with as it shimmered on the horizon in front of him. the tall tale sign of a certain woman he could admit, he would get on his knees for. in any way she wished. a smirk twisted the corners of his lips as he made his way to her. having no idea what sort of mood she was in, well, that was part of the fun. “oh, my dear sweet Miss Tremaine. how you are a sight for sore eyes.” 

she really was. her skin like cream in the sunlight light. beautiful. “you’re a bloody gift from the gods.” he added with a bit of whisper, so she could hear him and even if others did, it would be scandalous. “tell me you are in the mood to have me entertain you.” 

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

[arkadykurylenko]

“Is this seat taken?”

[depre-chiquita]

Tenía mucho sin sentirme así, tan cansada, tan agotada, tan desanimada, y con muchísimas ganas de morir

A.ev

[deanssweetheart23]

Before You Go

Title: Before You Go (AU)

Summary:  He’s lost everything he has ever loved. She’s trying to mend her broken heart . They’ve only got one night together.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Jo Harvelle, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jody Mills (all mentioned)

Word count: 4049 (but worth it)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Some language. Allusions to sex. References to loss and grief.

Author’s Notes: This is my contribution to @percywinchester27‘s “PJO Quotes Challenge”. Ana, thank you for letting me participate, granting me a generous extension, and being a wonderful friend. I hope you love this.

Special thank you to my beautiful sunflower @trexrambling because this wouldn’t have been the same without her help. She’s amazing.

My prompt for this was “I won’t go looking for trouble. I usually don’t have to”  and it’s included in bold in the text below. This is loosely based on Before We Go with C.Evans and A.Eve (do yourself a favor and watch this movie, it’s brilliant) and highly inspired by All The Pretty Girls by Kaleo (*cough* one of Jared’s favorite songs *cough).

Thank you for all your love, guys. Enjoy <3

Dean still can’t believe Jo Harvelle is married.

He’s standing in the middle of the wooden roof deck where the reception is taking place, surrounded by buffet tables with linens and vases with roses and tulips and white candles and an outdoor fireplace –an actual outdoor fireplace- and he still can’t believe that his best friend, the girl with the piggy tails and the innocent blue eyes that reminded him so much of the sky when he was a kid, is married.

It’s not that he’s not happy for her.

If anything, there is no one that deserves to be loved and cherished more than Jo does, but it’s unsettling, almost terrifying to see the world he has managed to build for himself changing without his consent. It’s like everyone he knows, everyone he’s always known, family and friends and people he’s grown up with, are shifting, altering shapes and sizes and essence while he’s watching life pass him by, still trying to cope with the turn his life has taken over the past couple of years. They have plans, have their lives neatly figured out and fit into boxes, but him?

He has nothing.

Taking a deep breath, he runs a hand over his face and reaches for his glass again, signaling the bartender for another round.

“You know,” a soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts, “my dad always said that when a guy’s drinking all alone at a wedding, someone probably broke his heart.”

Dean snorts a little at the words and turns to tell the stranger that her father probably didn’t know him, but stops when he realizes that the girl standing before him is the one that had saved him from one of the groom’s drunk aunts earlier that night.

She’s clad in one of long chiffon dresses Jo seems to despise with everything she has, and though Dean already knows she’s beautiful, the little observation stored somewhere in the back of his mind, he can’t help but acknowledge it again now that she’s leaning against the bar, lips curled up in a perfect smirk as her eyes flicker over his features.

He grins.

“Or,” he says, hand curled around his glass, “he’s just hoping that the pretty girl that saved him from Martha Stewart Junior will join him.”

She laughs, a rich, loose laugh that’s warmer than whiskey as it seeps into his bones.

“Pretty, huh?”

“Among other things.” Dean says, looking up at her through his lashes. A sincere smile, and then, “I never got to thank you for that, by the way.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” She slides in a seat next to him. “Mildred can be really sweet, but she gets way too handsy when she’s drunk.”

“You know her?”

“Everyone here does.” She shrugs. “She’s the groom’s aunt.”

He snorts, eyes going a bit narrow. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. His family, uh,” she glances towards a group of people to her left, then turns to him again, “they’re interesting people.”

His lips twitch upwards. “You don’t like them.”

And it might be more of a statement than a question, but he’s not surprised when she nods in agreement because though he knows nothing about her, he does know how to read people, and the way she juts her chin and puckers her forehead when she mentions Dave’s family is the only evidence he needs.

“I don’t like all of them.” She gnaws on her bottom lip, seemingly thinking about something, then sighs and shakes her head. “Do you see that guy over there?”

He peeks over his shoulder gingerly.

A man in his late twenties is talking to Dave and Jo and, despite the fact Dean doesn’t even know him, his brash smile is enough to make him hate the guy.

“You mean the James Dean wannabe?”

A snort.

Amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Yeah, that. That’s Dave’s brother.” She shifts a little as she speaks and then-

“Please, tell me you didn’t date that douche.”

“Yeah, I was actually engaged to that douche.” She scoffs and, even though he knows she’s trying hard not to strap her words with emotion of any kind, the words are laced with melancholy as they leave her mouth.

He knows better than to comment on it.

“He seems…special.”

“That’s one way to put it,” she deadpans, drawing her head back. “Our relationship was…rocky, I guess. But I was young, and we were high school sweethearts and I had read far too many romance novels to just give up on him.”

He nods, eyes flickering to the amber liquid he’s twirling in its glass.

“He let you go, didn’t he?”

“Said he wasn’t sure he was ready to commit to just one person,” she leans forward on her arms, “then started dating his father’s secretary like two days after that.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Biggest one I’ve ever met,” she agrees, reaching for a pint glass the barman sets in front of her. “You don’t have to worry about Jo, though. Dave’s a good guy.”

“How did you-”

“I’ve known the groom my entire life. If you were his friend, I’d remember you,” she explains, nudging his arm with her elbow.

Dean can’t be sure, but he thinks the tips of his ears turn pink.

“You would?” he smirks.

A tiny smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

“I definitely would,” she mumbles, but it’s laced with enough coyness to confirm the one thing he’s been suspecting all along; flirting with strangers was probably not a pastime of hers.

Huh.

She clears her throat. “So.”

Dean grins.

“So?”

“How do you know Jo?”

“Childhood friend,” he explains, eyes shifting towards the youngest Harvelle. “Our dads used to hang out, so we practically grew up together.”

And maybe it’s the whiskey that’s clouding his judgement, or maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t talked to someone –really talked to someone for over two years - but, he finds himself sharing childhood stories of him and Jo, finds himself telling her about the first time they met and the summers they spent by the lake at Lawrence and that one time Dean busted the windows of her boyfriend’s car because he cheated on her.

“She’s just,” he runs a hand over his face, tries to gather himself a little, “Dave’s a lucky guy.”

“Oh God,” she mutters, bright, Y/E/C locking into his, “you’re in love with her.”

The words echo as they leave her mouth, all certainty and realness, and catch him off guard, like a gunshot to the heart.

A crease forms between his brows.

His shoulders tense.

“I’m not –It’s… It’s not like that, kid.”

He’s expecting her to fight him on it, to ask more questions or squint or do… something.

She doesn’t.

“We just… We had a thing. Back when we were in college. And we both agreed it wasn’t going to work.”

She nods, making sure to meet his eye. “But?”

With a heavy sigh, he lets his eyes drift to his hands, to his father’s silver ring.

“What if I was wrong? I mean… Jo gets me, you know? We’ve been through so much together and we still… We’re there for each other. How often does that happen?”

“Not as often as you think.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I think… After all I’ve been through, I think that it’s one thing to love someone and another thing to be in love with them. And I can see you love Jo. A blind man could see that. But, are you in love with her? Or with the idea of her?”

A small smile.

Eyes looking at her in amazement.

“Who are you?”

“I dunno, Mr. Winchester.” She shrugs, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “Why don’t you find for yourself?”

Yeah.

He likes her.

Dean’s not sure how they ended up back at his place.

He remembers drinking her under the table at the reception, remembers listening to hundreds of her childhood stories, dancing with her while the stereos blasted a cheesy Ed Sheeran song about stars and beating hearts, and, God, he remembers kissing her, desperate and needy and open mouthed, but everything’s a blur of hungry hands and short breaths after that.

And now, somehow, they’re in his living room, and he has her pinned against the wall, lips and mouth and tongue mapping the smoothness of her neck while his hands travel underneath her dress, to her hips, her thighs, any place he can reach, and she’s clutching at his shirt.

God, he wants her.

He wants her, and even though he feels like he needs to take his time, feels like this should be so much more than tangled sheets and breathless whispers, much more than just another one-nighter, the feel of her skin under his fingertips and the way his name leaves her lips in whimpers when he finds that spot on her neck are enough to drive him absolutely insane.

“Is that,” she lets out a soft whimper as he presses his mouth up her jaw, “is that a chess set?”

He lets out a loose breath, brows furrowed in puzzlement as he follows her gaze.

“Yeah, that’s… Yeah,” he replies, and leans in to kiss her, hands sliding up her sides.

She pulls away, tilting her head to the left, almost too slow.

“Do you, uh, play a lot?”

His head drops to her shoulder.

“Not really, no. My brother gave it to me.”

She hums in response, but when he starts peppering kisses along her shoulder, she shifts a little, squirms under him.

His eyes dart up to meet hers.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, voice laced with concern.

She sighs, eyes cast downwards.

“Yeah,” she pushes some hair off her face, “yeah, m’ sorry. I just –I’ve never…” She shakes her head, stumbling over her words a little. “I’ve never done this before.”

He smiles, a soft, gentle smile that smooths his rough edges and make his eyes shine.

“Kid, don’t take this the wrong way, but I kind of figured that part out.”

She clenches her jaw.

Something that looks awfully like shame floats across her face.

“Hey,” he cups her face with his large hands, “we don’t have to do anything. You know that, right?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but-

“Look, tonight’s been –it was amazing. And I’d never make you do something you don’t…” He lets out a nervous laugh, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “If you don’t want this, just say the word and I’ll kiss you goodnight and drive you home. No hard feelings. No drama. You don’t… You don’t owe me anything.”

A smile.

Fingers that trace the line of his jaw, tender and sweet.

“Dean, I know that. And I want this. I’m just…”

She lets out a sigh, armor down for a millisecond, and Dean sees the uncertainty behind it, sees the embarrassment she tries to hide under layers of small smiles and reassuring looks, but knows she wishes he doesn’t, wishes he’ll spare her the mortification.

So-

“Tell you what.” He clasps a hand at the side of her face. “How about you just take a hot shower while I make us some grilled cheese? You can lock the bathroom door.”

“Dean-”

“And if you still want this later…” he presses his lips on her forehead, the rest of the words whispered into her skin, a secret only for her to hear.

She smiles then and, this time, it’s all wonder and depth and awe, a smile that makes him feel like he’s more than a stranger to her, more than a guy she wants to sleep with.

And when she steps on her toes and presses a chaste kiss on his stubbly jaw, the breath hitches in his throat for just a second, and he hopes.

He hopes he’ll get to see that smile again.

Dean doesn’t remember the last time he laughed so much.

He’s laying on his bed with Y/N snuggled up against him, her cheek placed firmly on his chest while he’s running his hands up and down her arm gently, and every time he leans in he can smell his shampoo lingering on her hair.

So, he breathes it in, along with the sight of her dressed in his clothes, in that old Rolling Stones T-shirt he loves and that grey pair of sweatpants he doesn’t wear anymore, and tries to ignore how nerve-wrecking it all feels.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/N gasps in faux offence, catching his attention again.

It’s been almost two hours since she’d gotten out of the shower and, after they’d eaten, they ended up back in his bedroom, lips pressed together like pieces of the same puzzle.

And still, nothing happened.

Well, almost nothing.

Because ever since they settled against each other, limbs and heartbeats blending, they haven’t stopped talking.

She talked to him about her family, her best friend who’s like the older brother she never had, her dream to open her own record house one day. She said her favorite flowers are pink carnations and her favorite song is probably Dylan’s Knocking on Heaven’s Door and that she’d never really knew what heartache felt like until she lost her grandmother to Alzheimer when she was still a teenager. She spoke to him of winters nights spent at a little cabin her family has in Utah and of her favorite blanket, the one her grandmother had made for her when she was still a baby.

And then, she listened.

She listened as he talked about his parents and Bobby and how he practically had to beg the old man to go out with his neighbor, Jody. She listened as he told her about his job and his decision to go to college just to know what it would be like, about his love for classic cars and rock music and pie. She listened when he spoke of his first girlfriend and how she broke his heart, and when he told her about that little diner right across the street from his house, the one his dad used to take him to as a kid which has now been turned into a horrible block of flats.

She listened and listened and listened and Dean realized, much to his surprise, that, though he’s only known her for less than a day, she already knows things about him, already understands him in ways most of his friends don’t.

He doesn’t mind.

“How can someone sleep through La La Land?” she asks, laughing into his clothed skin.

“You see, when a movie is that terrible-”

“Shut up,” she whines, smacking his hand, “that’s my favorite movie you’re talking about, heathen.”

“Yeah, but it’s still a bad one.”

She perches herself on her elbow, looks up through narrowed eyes.

“It’s a work of art.” She jabs a finger at him. “Mia’s and Sebastian’s love story is the best one I’ve seen in years. It’s just… so pure.”

A snort.

Eyes rolled skywards.

“Okay then. Tell me what your favorite movie is so, I can make fun of it.”

“See, that’s impossible because my favorite movie is,” he leans in, brushes his scruff against the sensitive skin of her neck playfully, “awesome.”

A laugh escapes her lips.

“Hmmm,” she runs her fingers through his short hair, all mischief and delight, “and what movie would that be?”

“Every movie Clint Eastwood’s in.”

“Really?” She scrunches her nose up in indignation. “You don’t like Ryan Gosling, but you’re willing to watch a movie with a monkey?”

“Well,” he mouths up her jaw leisurely, “in all fairness, Clyde’s a better actor.”

She laughs, again, and Dean’s pretty sure he could get drunk on that sound.

“No, he’s not.” She presses her forehead against his, close enough that he’s sure she can count the freckles of his face if she wants to. “You just happen to have a very weird fetish, Winchester.”

“I do not.”

“You so do.” She settles against him again, lets his large hands slide underneath her shirt, his fingertips tracing over warm skin. “I bet you even dressed as a cowboy when you were a kid.”

“Hey now,” he waggels his eyebrows suggestively, “the ladies in the neighborhood loved it.”

“Course they did.”

“Shut up, you perv.” He tickles her sides. “My costume was fan-frigging-tastic, if you must know.”

“Well, in that case, I might have to ask your brother for pictures.”

And Dean’s so lost into their conversation, so lost into the sense of her so close to him that he doesn’t realize what she’s said until the words are out there, new and uneven, hanging in the air between them.

He wishes she could take them back in then, wishes he could erase them from his mind, from her mind, but he can’t.

He swallows, hard.

“Yeah, he won’t…” He clears his throat, quietly. “Sam died two years ago.” A pause painted with grief. “Hit and run. He was jogging late at night and…”

A second passes and nothing happens.

Dean waits.

He waits for the sharp intake of breath, waits for the clipped I’m sorry to fly out of her mouth, for the way she looks at him to change, to turn from softness to pity and guilt, but she doesn’t move.

Warm lips press against that spot where his neck meets his shoulder.

Fingers tie themselves between his.

“Tell me about him,” she whispers.

And if it was someone else, Dean would refuse, would be absolutely furious because he does not want to share his memories, doesn’t want to share his brother, with anyone else.

But with her laying by his side, he hears a wrecked voice respond.

“What do you want to know?”

Her hand squeezes his.

A smile lights up her face for just a second.

“Everything.”

And so, he tells her.

“Do you ever feel like you don’t belong?” Y/N whispers into his chest after what feels like hours, her fingers drawing arbitrary patterns there.

She’s almost asleep in his arms now, eyelids heavy with sleep and voice drowsy, and if it weren’t for the pensiveness that’s coating her features or the way she purses her lips and stares straight ahead as she asks him the question, he’d probably be pondering how cute she looks.

“You know, like when you’re in a room full of people, but you feel like nobody gets you? Because I’ve –I have so many good people in my life, but sometimes I feel like… I feel like there’s a little invisible line that’s always going to separate me from everyone else, you know?”

And Dean knows exactly what she means. He knows what it’s like to feel like a complete stranger in your own world, to feel disconnected and lost into the life you’ve made for yourself because he’s been there so many times after his brother’s death.

“Yeah,” he drops a kiss on her hair, “I do.”

She presses her face into the crook of his neck, breathes him in.

“What am I doing here, Dean?” she whispers, and it’s so faint he might as well have dreamt of it.

He wishes he had an answer for her.

He doesn’t.

All he knows is that this, the feel of her next to him, the weight of her in his arms, feels right.

All he knows is that he feels like this is how things are supposed to be from now on.

He runs his fingers through her hair, traces her jawline with his thumb.

“Get some sleep, kid,” he mumbles.

But he doesn’t sleep that night.

He just holds her, thinking that maybe that’s what he needed all along.

Dean finds her sitting on the edge of his bed the next morning.

She has her hair up in a messy bun, the dress she’s been wearing the night before already on, and, even though she seems so much different, even though she comes from a world so much different than his, there’s a simplicity in her that makes it easy for him to imagine her as a part of his world, too.

He smiles.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there?”

Her head jerks when she hears his voice.

“Dean,” she turns to look at him, “you’re back.”

“Yeah.” He holds up a paper bag from his favorite diner. “I went out to get us breakfast. You read the note, right?”

She nods, rubbing at her forehead.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, shy and nervous. “I could have just dropped by Starbucks on my way to work.”

And Dean knows that, but when he’d woken up a few hours earlier only to find her asleep in his arms, laughing lines and kindness dusting her skin, he felt it again, that pull he’d felt the night before, that need to spend every minute he could with her.

So, he’d gone out to get breakfast.

“Well, yeah, but” -he jabs a finger at her- “you said last night you like cinnamon rolls, and I just happen to know the place with the best cinnamon rolls in town.”

She frowns, looks down at her hands.

“See, now you’re just making me feel like an awful person,” she mumbles, voice laced with a nervous smile. “My boss just called. I’ve got to be at work in twenty minutes.”

“Oh.”

“Dean, I’m sorry-”

“Hey, no,” he shakes his head, hands her the bag. “You can eat that on your way there. Just…”

He thinks about the things he wants to say for a second, thinks about the night they shared, sprinkled with whispered laughs and honest confessions and wounds opened just for the other person to see.

And then he realizes that if he asks her to stay, if he asks for a chance, she’ll probably assume she’s being the girl he’ll use to numb the pain, the girl he’ll use to substitute Jo and forget his brother’s loss and he doesn’t want that.

He never wants that.

So, he sets her free.

“Drive safe.”

She cracks a small smile, but it’s all smoke and mirrors.

“Thank you,” she says. “And you-” -she jabs a finger at him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He laughs, scratching the back of his neck. “I won’t go looking for trouble. I usually don’t have to.”

A laugh, small but genuine.

Steps that lead her to him.

Her arms wrap around his waist, and he leans in.

God, she fits perfectly against him.

“I know you don’t-”

He never gets the chance to finish his sentence though, because she presses her lips against him, determined and slow and different, so much different from the way they’d kissed the night before, a kiss that’s warm and tender and makes him wonder why he hasn’t spent his entire life kissing her like that.

“You’re a good man, Dean Winchester,” she says when they finally break apart.

He looks at her then, looks into her eyes, and everything he wanted to tell her dies at the back of his throat, choked and genuine and overwhelming, and he just laces his fingers with hers and grips.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

She doesn’t reply.

She doesn’t have to.

It’s all written there, in the way she grips right back, in the way her bottom lip wobbles and her lips brush against his cheek in the tiniest bit of movement.

When she leaves, the sound of the door shutting closed echoes his loneliness.

He doesn’t know how much time he spends staring blankly at the wall that morning.

He finds it the following day.

He’s wandering around his house, pondering whether he should ask Jo for Y/N’s number, whether there is even a point after the way she left the morning before, when he sees it.

It’s right there, just a little Post-It note with the world’s worst scribbles, a phone number and a tiny carnation drawing spread across it, etched on the chess set.

Smirking, he picks it up, lets his eyes dance over the lines.

Do not call unless you’re willing to reevaluate Mia’s and Sebastian’s love story.

I can wait.

Oh, but she won’t have to.

Tags: @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @ravengirl94 @hannahindie @trexrambling @percywinchester27 @torn-and-frayed @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @dancingalone21 @polina-93 @pickupthatamulet @atwistoffate @there-must-be-a-lock @ultrafandomcat @tiny-friggin-human @imagining-supernatural @impala-dreamer @becs-bunker @becominglionhearted @wordstothewisereaders @sgarrett49 @ruprecht0420 @myrabbitholetoneverland @juanitadiann @castianityislife02 @iwriteaboutdean @spngeronimo @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @captainemwinchester @mogaruke @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @wellthatsrandomkek @winchestersnco @jayankles @winchesters-flannels @akshi8278 @thevioletthourr @kathaswings @atari-writes @emilywritesaboutdean @keepcalmandcarryondean @mandilion76 @atc74 @ravenangel33 @holahellohialoha @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @sinistersaltqueen @carryonmyswansong @blushingdean @emoryhemsworth @princess-of-erebor1992 @superapplepie @bebravekeeponfighting @carryonmywaywardcaptain @sebastianshoe @stellaa33 @kleinkariertebetrachter @samisimportant @masksandtruths @shutupiminlooove @jessilliam-caronday @annoyingpeople-postingthings 

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[karonbill]

C1000-055 Practice Test Questions - IBM QRadar SIEM V7.3.2 Deployment

To help you best prepare for C1000-055 IBM QRadar SIEM V7.3.2 Deployment exam, PassQuestion provides the latest C1000-055 Practice Test Questions that will allow you to prepare for the IBM C1000-055 exam and pass it in a single attempt. These C1000-055 Practice Test Questions cover you all of the syllabus of IBM C1000-055 certification exam and enable you to to prepare and pass the C1000-055 exam by securing the best final results. After practice well in our C1000-055 questions and answers, you can improve your preparation level and get ready for the real C1000-055 exam.

IBM QRadar SIEM V7.3.2 Deployment C1000-055 Exam Description

C1000-055 IBM QRadar SIEM V7.3.2 Deployment exam is towards for IBM Certified Deployment Professional - IBM QRadar SIEM V7.3.2 certification.This intermediate level certification is intended for deployment professionals who are responsible for the planning, installation, configuration, performance optimization, tuning, troubleshooting, and system administration of an IBM QRadar SIEM V7.3.2 deployment.

Exam Information

Exam Code: C1000-055 Exam Name: IBM QRadar SIEM V7.3.2 Deployment Number of Questions: 60 Duration: 120 minutes Passing Score: 62% Certification: IBM Certified Deployment Professional - IBM QRadar SIEM V7.3.2

Exam Sections

Section 1: Deployment objectives and Use cases  10% Section 2: Architecture and Sizing   24% Section 3: Installation and Configuration   20% Section 4: Event and flow integration   15% Section 5: Environment and threat data integration   13% Section 6: System Performance and Offense Tuning   8% Section 7: Troubleshooting    10%

View Online IBM QRadar SIEM V7.3.2 Deployment C1000-055 Free Questions

A customer needs to increase the storage space that is available to an Event Processor and be able to speed up historical searches. Which solution should the deployment professional recommend? A.Connect a Data Node to the Event Processor B.Add an Event Collector to the Event Processor C.Connect additional External Storage to the Event Processor D.Expand the storage space on the Event Processor using LVM Answer:D

A deployment professional needs to implement a crossover cable in the high availability (HA) environment. By doing so, this QRadar deployment isolates what kind of traffic over the crossover connection? A.event B.flow C.query D.HA replication Answer:A

A deployment professional has been asked to ensure the system can be integrated with another system which contains lists of IP addresses and CIDR ranges in an automated manner, to allow rules to target specific communication endpoints. Which part of QRadar is designed to hold and manage this data? A.Domain Definition B.Network Hierarchy C.Asset Profiles D.Building Blocks Answer:D

A deployment professional sees that there are occasional spikes in the EPS (Events per second). The host has 1000 EPS allocated but the occasional spikes go up to 1185 EPS. What happens with the events when they go over the allocated amount? A.Events are shown normally, but no offenses are generated. B.Events are moved to a temporary queue. C.Events are shown normally, QRadar has 20% buffer. D.Events are dropped. Answer:B

A deployment professional receives instructions to virtualize the currently installed QRadar SIEM All-in-One appliance and to provide requirements. VM specifications must suffice for 4000 EPS. What are the minimum processor and memory requirements that the deployment professional must use? A.128 GB Memory, 16 CPU Cores B.256 GB Memory, 32 CPU Cores C.32 GB Memory, 16 CPU Cores D.8 GB Memory, 4 CPU Cores Answer:D

A deployment professional needs to clear out the Asset Database in IBM QRadar. Which service on the Console is restarted when script cleanAssetModel.sh is executed? A.PostgressDB B.Hostcontext C.Hostservices D.Tomcat Answer:C

[notsadrobotxyz]

DB File Sequential Read Wait/ DB File Scattered Read

A sequential read reads operation reads data into contiguous memory. Single block I/Os are usually the result of using indexes. This event is also used for rebuilding the controlfile and reading datafile headers (P2=1). In general, this event is indicative of disk contention on index reads. To determine the actual object being waited can be checked by the p1, p2, p3 info in v$session_wait. Select* from   v$session_eventwhere  event = 'db file sequential read'orderbytime_waited; Selectsegment_name, partition_name, segment_type, tablespace_namefrom   dba_extents a, v$session_wait bwhere  b.p2 between a.block_id and (a.block_id + a.blocks - 1)and    a.file_id  = b.p1and    b.event    = 'db file sequential read'; Selecta.sid,a.serial#, a.username, a.osuser, b.sql_textfrom   v$session a, v$sqltext bwhere  a.sql_hash_value = b.hash_valueand    a.sql_address    = b.address and    a.sidin(select sid from   v$session_waitwhere  event = 'db file sequential read')orderbya.sid,b.hash_value, b.piece;Note: Where P1 = file#, P2 = block#, P3 = blocks 9 (should be 1)Generally the entire database having some wait event doing IO for index scan usually. But if you see seconds in waiting greater then 0, you must tune index I/O.To reduce this wait event follow the below points:1.      Tuning SQL statements to reduce unnecessary I/O request is the only guaranteed way to reduce "db file sequential read" wait time.2.      Distribute the index in different file system to reduce the contention for I/O Tuning Physical devices, the data on different disk to reduce the I/O. 3.      Use of Faster disk reduces the unnecessary I/O request. Increase db_block_buffers or larger buffer cache sometimes can help.DB File Scattered Read:This is indicating disk contention on full table scans. Rarely, data from full table scans could be fitted into a contiguous buffer area, these waits would then show up as sequential reads instead of scattered reads. However, scattered read will never read just one block (p3 is always >= 2). The DBA should be concerned with average I/O time and session that spend time on this event. The average multi block I/O should not exceeds 1/100 sec.SELECTa.average_wait "SEQ READ", b.average_wait "SCAT READ"FROM sys.v_$system_event a,sys.v_$system_eventbWHERE a.event = 'db file sequential read' AND b.event = 'db file scattered read';SEQ READ SCAT READ ---------- ---------- .74 1.6 Select* from   v$session_eventwhere  event = 'db file scattered read'orderbytime_waited; Selecta.sid,b.name,a.valuefrom   v$sesstat a, v$statname bwhere  a.statistic# = b.statistic#and    a.value     0 and    b.name='table scan blocks gotten'orderby3,1;If the average I/O wait time for the db file scattered read event is acceptable, but the event indicates waits in a certain session, then this is an application issue.In this case DBA needs to determine which objects is being read the most from P1 and P2 values, check the relevant SQL statement, explain plan for that SQL, Perform SQL tuning. The motive is to reduce both the logical and physical I/O calls: link to check SQL or Application Tuning.If an application that has been running fine for suddenly starts indicating the db file scattered read event then this could be an index issue. One or more indexes may have been dropped or become unusable.To determine which indexes have been dropped, the DBA can compare the development, test, and production databases. The ALTER TABLE MOVE command marks all indexes associated with the table as unusable. Certain partitioning operations can also cause indexes to be marked unusable. This includes adding a new partition or coalescing partitions in a hash-partitioned table, dropping a partition from a partitioned table or global partitioned index, modifying partition attributes, and merging, moving, splitting or truncating table partitions. A direct load operation that fails also leaves indexes in an unusable state. This can easily be fixed by rebuilding the indexes.

[legends-and-savages]

❔

MULTIMUSE ASK MEME

send ❔ and i’ll list a couple muses that i’d like to throw at yours!| Accepting

A.eval

A.lice

A.nya

A.phrodite

A.res

A.rtemis

A.rthur

Daliya

Danika

E.lsa

E.vie

H.arry

I.ngrith

J.asmine

K.iara

K.illian

Laurel

M.al

M.aleficent

O.dette

R.apunzel

R.egina

H.atter

[knightofameris]

fav sound is wind chimes!! can i have kita for this one 🥺✨

✎ gender. neutral ✎ ameris’ notes. in honor of today’s episode

event still open~ // timeskip spoilers!!

Life is a funny thing. You had gone off to university, majored in what society calls a “practical” field, even had a promising job offer after graduation but instead you were sitting outside, watching the wind blow through the rice field. The waves of the field looking similarly to the ocean waves and instead of the smell of sea salt it was the smell of nature and, well, rice. 

The gentle breeze reached where you sat, just outside your house on the porch. The wind chimes gently ringing with each push from the breeze. 

It was a calming time of day, the sun beginning to set, the sound of the wind chimes and the picturesque view of the rice fields. 

It was like your own Studio Ghibli movie moment. 

The frosting on the cake for this moment was when Kita finally stood up straight, staring towards the setting sun then back over towards you and he smiled. 

Making his way over towards you, you stood up as his hands reached out towards you, the murmur of your name leaving his lips. 

“Did you wear sunscreen before coming out?” He asked. 

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes with a smile, he always scolded you for not wearing your sunscreen when you wanted to spend time outside watching him. 

He kissed your forehead before pulling you inside where his grandmother was most likely already prepping dinner. The glow of the sun adorning the two of you and the whimsical wind chimes accompanying the two of you like it did everyday.

[kevinkatzke]

TensorFlow Basics

Computation Graph

If your aspirations are to define a neural net in Tensorflow, than your workflow would be to first construct the network by defining all computations. Each single computation adds a node to the so called Computation Graph. Providing data to a Session (will come to that later) will ask TensorFlow to executed the giving graph.

TensorFlow comes with a neat build in tool called the TensorFlow Graph visulaization that helps you to keep and insight in what computations is actually defined in a computation graph. A computation graph can get hairy very quickly as one adds many nodes to it, therefore the grpah visualization tool has been implemented which makes it faily easy to understand how the data flows to the graph at any given time.

Session Management

After the computation graph has been defined one has to take care of the Tensorflow Session Management. A Session is neccessary to execute the predefined computation graph. A node in a computation graph has no state before it is evaluated in a Session.

import tensorflow as tf a = tf.constant(1.0) b = tf.constatn(2.0) c = a * b print(c) #=> Tensor("mul:0", shape=(), dtype=float32) with tf.Session() as sess: print(sess.run(c)) print(c.eval()) #=> 30.0 #=> 30.0

The line c = a * b just describes how to Tensorflow constants should be manipulated without actually doing it. To run the computation, the note has to be evaluated in a Tensorflow Session. The same variable can have to completely different values in two different sessions (e.g depending on the specific input values ...).

To make life easy, especially when you are experimenting with Tensoflow in an iPython notebook, Tensorflow comes with the concept of an Interactive Session, which keeps the same Session open by default.This avoids having to keep a variable holding the session.

import tensorflow as tf sess = tf.InteractiveSession() a =tf.Variable(1) a.initializer.run() #No need to refer to sess print(a.eval()) #WORKS #=> 1

One important thing to keep in mind is: "A session may own resources, such as variables, queues, and readers. It is important to release these resources when they are no longer required. To do this, either invoke the close() method on the session, or use the session as a context manager."TF documentation

TensorFlow Variables

In TensorFlow there are two slighltly different concepts of variables. There a constants and variables. The big difference between those to options is that a constant does not neccessariliy be initialized while a variable must be.

Constants

import tensorflow as tf constant_zero = tf.constant(0) # constant with tf.Session() as sess: print(sess.run(constant_zero)) #=> WORKS

Variabels

"When you train a model, you use variables to hold and update parameters. Variables are in-memory buffers containing tensors. They must be explicitly initialized and can be saved to disk during and after training. You can later restore saved values to exercise or analyze the model." (TF documentation)

import tensorflow as tf constant_zero = tf.constant(0) # constant variable_zero = tf.Variable(0) # variable with tf.Session() as sess: print(sess.run(constant_zero)) #=> WORKS print(sess.run(variable_zero)) #=> ERROR! sess.run(tf.global_variables_initializer()) print(sess.run(variable_zero)) #=> WORKS

Note that a variable usually is defined by not only giving it a value but also a name:

variable_zero = tf.Variable(0, name="zero")

The name "zero" is the entity that the variable has been given in the Tensorflow namespace, while variable_zero is the local entity that the variable is being given in the python namespace. When referring to this variable in the Tensorflow computation graph one uses "zero", but on the other hand if one wants to print the variable in the python script one refers to it as variable_zero.

Feeds and Fetches

When a computation graph is defined, there are two different kinds of computations that can be performed on it: Feeds and Fetches. A Feed places data in to the computation graph while a Fetch extracts data from such.

The previously defined operations c.eval() as well as sess.run(c) are both TensorFlow Fetch operataions.

To input data into the computation graph one uses the very simple command called tf.convert_to_tensor():

import tensorflow as tf import numpy as np numpy_var = np.zeros((2,2)) tensor = tf.convert_to_tensor(numpy_var) with tf.Session() as sess: print(tensor.eval()) #=> [[ 0. 0.] # [ 0. 0.]]

It is not possible to evaluate a NumPy array in a Tensorflow session (AttributeError: 'numpy.ndarray' object has no attribute 'eval').

First the NumPy array has to be converted into a Tensorflow Tensor (which automatically creates a TF node that is inserted into the computation graph => Feed operation). The Tensor can the be evaluated in a Tensorflow session which in this case retuns [[ 0. 0.] [ 0. 0.]] as expected.

[depre-chiquita]

Espere tu llamada hasta las 3 de la madrugada, debí saber que tú ya dormías tranquilamente...

-a.ev

[knightofameris]

hi!!!!!!!! i was wondering if maybe you could do petrichor with sakusa for the mini event thing you're doing? if not don't worry about it, i hope you have a great day!!!! 💖💖💖

✎ gender. neutral ✎ ameris’ notes. i have never written for sakusa but I love petrichor and I also enjoy trying something new. Anyway my b if I get him wrong LMAO wish me luck. also wait, i can’t remember sakusa likes dogs canonically right...? 

It had been a long while since Tokyo had had this much rain. In fact, there wasn’t even supposed to be any rain today so you didn’t have your umbrella with you. 

Usually by now you’d be at home but you had to stop by the store to pick up puppy food. It was barely drizzling when you arrived at the store but the moment you walked out the doors it was suddenly pouring. So you decided to wait it out, seeing as the store ran out of umbrellas to sell.

That was an hour ago, and it seemed as if the rain wasn’t going to let up. But you’d be pretty mad at yourself if it let up in the five minutes it took for you to get to your stop to your apartment. 

So you continued waiting. 

You weren’t the only one, a man close by was waiting out the rain as well. He wore a face mask and athletic black clothes. His hands were tucked in his pockets and his eyes seemed.... Bored? No, that wasn’t the right word. At first glance, he seemed bored, mad even. But there was a little twinkle in his eye as he watched the rain. 

But maybe you were projecting. You were tired yourself, starting a new job, a new puppy that you adopted for no good reason. But the rain was a nice change of pace. Something to start anew. Even if people associated the rain with depressing days. 

Not you though, there was always one thing you looked forward to after the rain ended. 

You felt almost like a character out of a book, watching the rain slowly come to a stop, some clouds began to part showing the setting sun. And the smell, oh man the smell. You breathed it in, with a smile and closed eyes and upon opening your eyes, you saw the man before was taking off his mask, his eyes also closed as he too took in a deep breath. 

“Nice, isn’t it?” You spoke up, though you weren’t always one to talk to strangers. 

The man opened his eyes, turning his head to look at you. His black locks draping his face and you finally noticed the two little moles on his forehead. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. You smiled up at him and for some reason you wanted to keep talking to him. Even he was admittedly intrigued, but that’s probably because of the fact that you had puppy food and, well, he does like dogs. 

“Are you heading to the station?” You asked. He nodded and with that you beamed, immediately trying to find a way to keep a conversation. Which, to yours and his own surprise, wasn’t hard. 

After all, this wouldn’t be the last time either of you would talk. 

[knightofameris]

may i pls have some... freshly baked cookies with kuroo pretty, pls 🥺 nothing beats watching those little suckers rise and then eating them all warm and gooey 🥰 -dylan

✎ gender. neutral ✎ ameris’ notes. i dont know why but you calling them little suckers just made me laugh. also got a lot of kuroo in my inbox in comparison to the other characters. we love that tho <3  @miyalove for YOU <333333 mwah

event still open~

The sweet, warm, chocolatey smell of baking cookies gently filled the house. Soft music dancing through the air, waiting for Kuroo as he went off to clean himself up in the bathroom after the little food fight with leftover cookie dough. 

You sat on the countertop, swinging your legs while softly singing to the music playing on the speakers. 

Kuroo made his way into the kitchen, his eyebrow raised but a smile still apparent on his face. Your eyes met his and your face brightened up, still singing as he made his way over to you, grabbing both of your hands and pulled your hands back and forth in a “dance” of sorts. 

“Are the cookies ready yet?” 

You shook your head, eyes flirting down towards the oven where said goods were.

“Let’s check!” You grinned, hopping off the counter to squat down to peer into the oven with Kuroo.

There were still a few minutes left which made sense with how some of the cookies were almost done rising, a few even had mini explosions of chocolate. You could practically taste the sweet chocolate goodness on your tongue.

“A few more minutes,” you pouted. And with the music playing in the background, Kuroo had an idea.

Grabbing you by your hands he pulled you up with a grin and began twirling you around the kitchen, trying to dance. It was silly and fun. You and him laughed as you tripped over each other, doing weird dance moves, if you could even call it that. Even trying to figure out how waltz dancing worked.

When the oven beeped signaling the end of your dance and the readiness of the cookies, you excitedly tore away from Kuroo to grab the oven mitts to grab the baked goods. Kuroo couldn’t help but admire you and your excitement.

As you took out the cookies he promptly went ahead to pour two glasses of milk for the two of you. Too excited and impatient, the two of you went ahead and grabbed a cookie to bite into. The warmth, the soft dough, the chocolate chips; all of it melted in both of your mouths and you smiled up at Kuroo.

Kuroo’s heart skipped a beat. A bit of chocolate left on the corner of your lips. He reached out to wipe it off with his thumb and you thanked him a bit flustered. He knew he’d cherish these simple moments with you for eternity if it meant seeing you this happy.

[knightofameris]

oooh i also really like the sound of waves hitting the shore + iwa bec they both give me a sense of security and warmth 😌

✎ gender. neutral ✎ ameris’ notes. CHIQUI I LOVE U <3 

event still open~ // timeskip spoilers!

The harmonies of seagulls and children’s laughter accompanied the melody of the ocean waves hitting the shore. All worries seemingly washing away with the way that mother nature seemed to be orchestrating the world around you. 

The fact that your flight back to Japan was tomorrow wasn’t even in the back of your head as you walked along the coastline of the beach, just a few short minutes away from Irvine where Iwaizumi was studying. The fact that you would have to continue your long-distance relationship with him once more wasn’t even a worry at this moment in time. 

After all, what’s the point of worrying about the inevitable when you could spend time with him? His hand in yours, his smile that danced along his lips as he talked about everything he’s learned here in America. 

“All the students here go to this one donut shop after the sun sets, we could go if you’d like?” Iwaizumi asked, looking at you then at the sun dipping into the ocean. Your gaze followed his, finding how beautiful sunsets look on the Californian coastline. 

You hummed, turning your head to find Iwaizumi was staring at you. Heat rushed up your face as if it was the first time you both got together and you quickly turned away. 

“I-uhm-Anywhere with you is fine with me, Hajime.” 

His hand squeezed yours as a silence overcame the two of you, but that silence was easily filled by the calming waves of the waves. 

[knightofameris]

okay tell me why i literally have been thinking abt this for like 10 minutes HDKSNS congrats on finishing your midterm bby :)))

the touch of a giant, soft plushie + semi :’) —🧸<3

✎ gender. neutral ✎ ameris’ notes. its okay semi brain rot is real. talk to your doctor to see what you can do to- (and thank you I'm... brain dead... why’d i try to organize my blog uhgnfg also *still* trying to figure out how to write semi oh god)

event still open~

It was a small little arcade booth game That’s all it was. The game was supposed to be easy, it is supposed to be easy. Semi just saw some middle schooler beat the game and walk away with a big teddy plush. If that middle schooler was able to beat it, he should too right?

I mean, he’s also part of the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club. He has a mean serve that leaves his opponents in the dust. 

So someone explain to him why he was stuck at this arcade game for the past thirty minutes as you stood off to the side slightly antsy. It was just three damn bottles he had to knock down. Three. That’s it. 

“Eita, baby, it’s okay, let’s try out some other games!” You pleaded, slightly tugging on his jacket sleeve. But he didn’t budge. You weren’t surprised, he was athletic and there’s only so much you could do to try to physically overcome him. Aka, practically impossible. 

Semi frowned before muttering, “It should be easy, just let me try again.” He looked past you, glaring at the back of the head of the middle schooler before turning his attention back to the game. The teenager in charge of the booth shied away, a little scared of the intense energy emitting from Semi. 

You sighed, “I mean, it’s really cute of you to try to win the teddy bear but-”

The game bell rang out, interrupting you and you glanced at the empty shelves missing of bottles with an open jaw before your closed your mouth, the corners of your lips turning upward. 

The teenaged boy handed Semi the large plushed teddy bear. You couldn’t help but squeal in response when Semi handed you the giant, soft plushie. His face was stained red and you would have taken this chance to tease him but the plushie was way too soft for you to not bury your face into it. 

A small smile made its way onto Semi’s face. The last thirty minutes at this booth was totally worth it. Save for the fact that he could’ve bought the teddy bear for much less than how much he just spent at this booth. Not that he’d tell you.