#hash tags are kind of like word clouds

[physicsfox7]

Okay. Same rules as always apply: you can interact if you want to, or ignore this if you don't. As always, I know I'm a lot to handle.

I've had good mental health for over a week. Things were going great, I felt good, was sleeping, kind of eating (still struggling there, but usually 1+ meal a day, even if the + was an uncrustie), didn't have any intrusive thoughts. Then last night I could feel the spiral coming on, and for the dumbest trigger imaginable. For a totally irrational and juvenile and stupid reason. Which makes it even worse really.

It doesn't help that I may be getting sick, or I may already be sick. Not sure, and not sure where that might be going, but I know its not helping.

I mentioned recently that my friends are everything, my heart and soul. But probably 3 or 4 times a week I think to myself: "Wouldnt it be easier, safer, less hurtful if you just...didn't? Let your friends go, they were probably at least as happy when you weren't around. You can drift away from them, let the distance get wider, and you dont have to hurt anymore."

I dont mean friends like we talk once every few weeks or exchange letters or whatever. I mean the friends I can barely go a day without talking to them, the ones that I seek out to say hello to. If I leave, they wont notice for long, and I wont lay awake at night wondering if I said something wrong, if they havent said hi because they're mad at me, if this is all a colossal fuck up and they're screwing with me. Because it has happened. To me. Multiple times.

I guess I didn't realize just how much I let certain people in. Which is stupid, right? Because how can someone be so out of touch they didnt see the 6 foot layer of bullshit come down?

So, what if I didn't? What if I went back to just me and my partner, and my thoughts? How long before I crack in half? How long before I decide I cant handle it, I cant be that alone. I was able to do it once, when I was so much stronger. But I lay awake at night, after the first wave has passed, in a cold sweat. And my mind says you could stop the anxiety if you just get cold again.

I spent 10 years working. I know, I know. Everyone has had a job, has dedicated themselves to it. It was nearly all I had. In my family, you get up and you do your chores, then you go to work. When you get home, you make sure nobody else needs help with their stuff. If you're lucky, after exhausting yourself in manual labor for 12 or 14 hours a day, you can watch tv until your eyelids feel like iron. I cant tell you how many nights I fell asleep on the couch. The last time I went on "vacation", I had to help put a new roof on my parents house. When I was a teen and wed go visit family in NY, there were always chores. Mow the lawn, repaint the fence, redrywall your aunts house, put new decking down. Work was all I knew. Much to my surprise, people didnt do all of this all the time. They had downtime, they had reasonable hours, they had the ability to say no.

Thats another one. Saying no. Seems easy, right? I can type it to myself all day long. If I told my parents no about work, or side work, or any chore that fell into my lap because my sister said she didnt want to, I was punished. In a backwards and manipulative way. Suddenly none of my favorite foods were in the house, my room was never clean enough, I had to do all the dishes from dinner because it just didnt make sense to run the dishwasher.

So when I say I could just flip the switch and become cold again, my whole body goes into panic mode. My heart is racing right now because somewhere, someone is going to read this and know what is going on inside my head.

The only thing more terrifying to me than making an ass out of myself in front of my friends, more terrifying than them getting mad at me; is not having them. I honestly think it might kill me.

I let them in too far, and now what if they leave?

I guess I can't let them go after all. I hope that they don't want to be let go of.

This was only slightly more convoluted than usual. If you're insane enough to read this, I'm sorry to subject you to what is essentially word vomit. I need to get this out, or it will eat me alive. Never really understood what people meant by that until now, that holding certain things in can kill you, can devour you.

I'm afraid of getting hurt, and I'm too afraid to be alone. I just need to not push people away, even though that is my immediate response. Just take a step back for a day or two, its no big deal. Then suddenly four months have gone by, and they're either tired of trying or didn't care enough to in the first place. Hard to say which of those is worse.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, except everything is lined with razor blades to make it more interesting.

[finaledenialist]

okay eveyone please stop yelling at me in the tags that you want to sue me for therapy money, here, quick, grab a happy ending (also yes, i am shamelessly tagging you @lobotomycastiel because this is all your fault:

When the Empty spits him out he doesn't know where he is or what year it is. He looks around and well, this is certainly Earth and it's still existing

There is nothing for you back there.

But he has no clue how much time has passed. He looks around. It seems to be a field in the middle of nowhere. In the distance he sees a bunch of trees. They look like they are slowly changing colours, they are not bright red yet but the browns and yellows are already showing; the sun is warm and birght but the temperature is not what could be described as hot. It's early autumn.

There is nothing for you back there.

He shakes the words echoing in his mind and starts walking towards the slowly setting sun in search of a road. After a couple of miles he finds it but there are no cars, there is nothing but the silence of a lazy evening, and he is worried. No cars on the road doesn't immediately mean that it has been years, he thinks, maybe it's just one of those long forgotten roads that lead to nowhere, one of those he ended up on when he had to leave the bunker. It's been hours until he hitched a ride back then, maybe this was a similar case.

He walked until the night fell, and then he just kept on walking, because what else was he suposed to do, finding comfort in the fact that at least the world still somehow existed. But how many years it has been? He put one foot in front of the other in total darkness and suddenly he noticed a shadow. It was definitely his shadow, and the night was starless, moon hidden safely behind the clouds; but if there was a shadow then there also had to be... A light?

He turned around and he let out the deepest sight of relief when he saw two front lights of a car driving in his direction. He stood there, wonderstruck. That's how Noah must heave felt like when he saw the returning dove, carrying an olive branch after days with no sight of land, he thought as he waved at the driver.

This time he catches a ride much sooner than the last time, but he doesn't want to think about it. The car looks old, but normal-old, he saw these kind of cars before, the radio plays a song he vaguely remembers, but he's too afraid to ask the driver what year is it; it would make things weird and he needs this ride more than anything. He navigates his way through the small talk, yeah, I just got lost in the woods, yes just take me to the nearest town and I got it from there, please and thank you so much for your kindness, he adds. The driver is an older man who looks tired and they spend the rest of the ride in silence.

He doesn't know the town’s name but he notices a phone booth, hidden in the alley; it's dark but the booth's light shines like a beacon and he feels like he found an oasis on a desert. He has no money, but there is a sticker that has the town's name written on it, along with some emergency numbers. It also says that if you press the correct combination of zeroes and hashes you might get a chance to call someone and that person would be charged for the call. So at least that problem is solved.

But what if

there is nothing for you back there?

He wants to call Dean. He wants to more than anything, but he ends up staring at the numbers and not daring to make the call. What if no one answers, what if they are all long dead and gone? What if the only thing he hears is silence? There is a little screen next to the keyboard that tells the hour, it's almost 2 a.m., and despite claiming that he is already saved to the Empty's face just hours ago, he feels completely lost.

It's 3:24 a.m., when he finally taps Dean's number on the old, worn out keyboard, desperately clutches onto the phone, closes his eyes and fucking prays.

There is signal.

And after the third one, there is also an answer.

After he manages to tell Dean where he is and that yes, I am fine, I am somehow, again, back, he hangs up and he just breaks. He steps out of the booth, breathes in the cold autumn air that smells like rain and dirt, and starts to cry. He didn't mean to, he wasn't supposed to feel anything that deeply, he wasn't supposed to feel anything at all, really, but he feels, he feels like the crushing weight on his back was just lifted, disappeared, and now all he has to do is just wait and then, then everything will be okay. He looks at the starless sky and the tears just run down his cheeks freely, because he was given yet another chance, undeserved and probably one-too-many, but that didn't matter, because he was alive, and Dean and Sam were alive and that's all that mattered.

He heard the approaching car before he saw the shadows casted by the impala's lights on the pavement. He would recognize the sound anywhere; after all he spent a lot of hours in that car, in the passenger seat, in the backseat...

He took another breath and quickly wiped his face with his sleeves. When he heard the car's door opening, he slowly turned around and saw them. Dean and Sam. Dean looking at him like he was witnessing a revelation and the shock on Sam's face. They looked just like he remembered them. Maybe that much time didn't pass after all.

'How long was I gone?', he manages to ask.

'Too damn long', Dean answers immediately and Sam's jaw drops.

'I don't know what to say', Sam says, and the little smile starts to make it's way on his face.

'I do', Dean says and takes a step, and then the second one, towards Cas, and suddenly Dean holds him, embraces him, like that one time in Purgatory years ago. 'I missed you so damn much, Cas', Dean's whisper is meant only for the two of them.

Suddenly there is a cry. A child's cry. Dean makes a step back and looks at Cas. He looks exhausted, Cas judges by the bags under Dean's eyes, but Dean smiles, the widest smile Cas has ever seen and says:

'We have a child to raise, Cas.'

It's Thursday and everything is alright again.

[realityhelixcreates]

Beta, Theta, and Me Chapter 10: Territorial

Chapters: 10/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now),Drug Use

Characters:  Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags:  A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of  Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses,  Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted

Summary: You learn the reality of not being alone in the universe

You hunkered down in your soft, fold-out futon couch, shaken by what you now knew.

They were invaders. Loki, Thor, all  the Asgardians, an invading force.

But they weren't invading this planet.

You didn't think you'd ever forget the blazing triumph in Loki's eyes, as he explained the plan. He might as well explain it to you. There was nothing you could do about it. There was nothing you would do about it. And Loki knew it.

Rain slammed into the glass like stones, flung by screaming wind. It had been pouring all day, even before you'd served Loki his breakfast.

“Did someone piss off your brother or what?” you joked. Loki swiftly grasped your hand before you could crush his pill for the morning.

“Yes, and I would have my mind clear when he comes to visit. I will bear the pain until afterwards.”

Thunder cracked the personable atmosphere of breakfast.

“You should retire to your rooms for a while.” Loki said. So you gathered up what was left of your meal and returned to your apartment. You had a nice little table in front of a window, where you sat with your orange juice and pancakes, watching the sheeting rain.

The sound of the Bifrost roared down louder than the rain. Thor had come by to discuss things with Loki several times now, you hiding out in your room each time. You weren't sure why you were never allowed to be seen-perhaps servants in Asgard were supposed to be invisible or something. Or perhaps Loki wasn't actually supposed to have you. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time you were living somewhere illegally.

The two of them talked very loudly, almost shouting, but it didn't sound like a fight. It sounded more like enthusiasm, rising and falling, the foreign words and unfamiliar cadence. Thor stayed for several hours, keeping up their lively discussion, but you didn't once hear either of them laugh. Whatever their enthusiasm was about, it probably wasn't a cheerful thing.

You relaxed in your apartment, reading a battered old book while they hashed out whatever they were working on, making yourself a light lunch while the rain weakened and petered out. The Bifrost roared again, just as the sun struggled out of the clouds.

Not long after, you heard Loki calling for you, always as if he were right beside you. He was waiting at the table when you exited back out into his miniature kingdom, eyes bright with the exercise of thought. He waited patiently while you prepared fresh tea for him, and mixed it with his medicine, drinking it without complaint. Thor's Alpha scent hung around the place, somehow harsher than Loki's. You were tempted to dampen it with a scented spray, but you knew Loki didn't like them. 'Stinking, chemical concoctions' he called them.

You did chores around the penthouse, as he went over the contents of a notebook. You knew his medicine was taking effect when he suddenly started talking.

“How do you feel about this building?” he asked abruptly, shoving the notebook at you.

“How do I feel about it? Uh, well, let me see.” You took the notebook, full of runes and sketches. The sketch of the house Loki indicated appeared to you like a man-made hill, a cluster of little domes around a large dome, with no windows but several doors. It had a vintage science fiction kind of look, as if someone had designed a Hobbit hole for the far future.

“It's cute.” you said. “Looks like some kind of earth house?”

“Not quite.” he said, smug amusement coloring his voice. “Would you live in such a house?”

“Sure, I'd live in any kind of house. A house is a house, and I'm never gonna be picky about that. I do wonder about the inside lighting, since there's no windows.” “Oh, it would be lit by magic. Magic light it so easy to make that many forms of magic create light as a by-product! It would be bright as day on the inside. There could be no windows, because the structure would be partially underground, and the outside walls would be about nine feet thick.”

“Wow. I knew earthworks need thick walls, but that seems like kind of a lot.”

“But would you still live in such a home?”

“Well yeah. Still a house, after all. Look, I know you're high as a kite right now, but this is about something, isn't it? Is it what Thor was here to talk about?” “Insolent thing. I'm not that high. Am I? No, of course not. But yes, this is about our meeting this morning. Twice has my brother come bearing distressing news about the future of Asgard, and this time, we began planning. These houses are a part of it.”

“Is something wrong with Asgard? Are you guys gonna be okay?”

“Oh yes, we will be fine. I foresaw something like this happening, and my brother's pride is sorely bruised, but our people are in no danger. You see, the government of Canada set aside some land for Asgard to settle upon-a handful of islands off the coast of the larger island of Nova Scotia. This seemed quite generous at first, and quite in line with the kindliness that country is famed for. I could have told Thor that it would prove somehow false. If not humanity itself, then the governing bodies of humanity certainly are the least trustworthy things in this whole great galaxy.”

“What did they do?” you asked. “Are they trying to bilk you? Make you pay for it all? Force you into debt?”

“No, no. They gave us the land so that the native peoples they stole it from could never get it back. Settler's laws, or some such.”

“That's awful!” The disillusionment led straight to disgust, and no small amount of disappointment. Because Canada did seem so nice, and maybe it was just a form of American wish fulfillment to believe that Canada was somehow 'better' than the States. But realistically, both countries had been formed in the same way: European settlers sweeping from one coast to the other. And the only way it seemed that they knew how to do that was to smash their way through whoever was between the Here, and the There.

“Indeed.” Loki sneered. “Thor is enraged at the sheer ingratitude. Many times he has been involved in the protection of your backwater globe, and these fools seek to use him as a pawn. I may occasionally want to stab his face off, but he is still a god, and we are all of us above the petty greed and power games that humans play against one another.”

“What are you going to do?”

“It's very simple. We are going to secure the land, build a legal cage so tight that it cannot be taken away, make it ours completely, and without question. Then, when we have gathered the necessary supplies, we will turn the land over to the people it was stolen from, and Asgard will leave. We will invite them to live among us in the interim, and likely leave a small garrison behind to guard against Canadian invasion.”

“Ha!” you burst out. “Good! Fuck those guys! But where is Asgard going to go then? I can't think of anyplace that isn't already full of people. Except maybe Antarctica? It'd be pretty hard to live there though.”

“Asgard has the technology to make practically any rock a paradise.” Loki bragged. “But we will not be moving to Antarctica, no. We will not remain on Earth. No, Earth had it's chance, and chose betrayal. We will be moving to the planet you call Mars.”

“What? Mars? Like Mars, Mars?” you sat, shocked, the notebook in your lap. “You can't just...”

Loki silenced you with a thin, smug smile.

“Whyever not?” he asked. “Who lives there? What lives there? Nothing, and no one. We would not be pushing anybody out of their homelands, nor posing a danger to any ecosystem. There is nothing there but remote controlled toys. No one has claim over it. I know there is at least one fool who fancies himself a genius, and has convinced many that he owns the place, but how is he going to get there? In one of his constantly exploding vehicles? No, Earth has no power over Mars, and soon it will be ours. We are the ones who can make it a livable land. Humans simply don't have the technology or experience. Can you harness Bifrost energy to get the core and mantle moving again, to create a magnetic field? You do not. Can you live safely on the surface for long enough to get anything done? You cannot. In fact, for humans to be safe on Mars, you would have to hide behind around nine feet of Martian soil.”

“Nine-like the house? That design is for a Mars house?”

“Clever thing. Yes, it is for a Mars house. Part of a community partially above and partially below ground, connected by buried roadways. A city adapted to the planets unique characteristics. We will alter the landscape, reignite the magnetic field, cleanse the soil of radiation, perhaps use that as a secondary energy source for a while. The planet is rich in water: this whole system is so rich in resources that it would absolutely be under attack at all times if more people knew about it.

But you have us now. We know how to render empty planets useful. Once we have made Mars into our new Asgard, we will turn our eyes to the great potential of the one you call Venus.”

“You're gonna take Venus too?” you exclaimed.

“Take? Again, who owns it? No one. There is no one to take it from. Imagine thinking that just because you see something, just because you name it, that somehow means you own it. No one lives there, and there are no habitats to destroy, so why does this offend you so?”

You couldn't really answer. Everything he had said was true. And yet, you still somehow felt a sort of proprietary nebulous collective ownership over the planetary system that was your species only home.

“Do you feel entitled to the asteroids as well? The comets? The moons and atmospheres of the giant planets? The very dust of the stellar cloud? Your species once shared this backwater world with multiple other human species, but now that you are the only ones left, you've forgotten how to share with anyone.”

“Is it sharing? You can travel around better than we can. Will there be anything left by the time we're able to travel like you?”

He chuckled, the condescension like a thick layer of butter over bread.

“Oh, I understand now. You're so used to the overarching greed and cruelty of your own people, that you can't imagine that we could be any different. We aren't going to lock you little humans away from Mars, or Venus, or any other place. Indeed, why do you think we've been studying how thick a wall is needed for human safety on Mars? It is all but certain that humans and Asgardians will live side by side throughout this star system. You will join us sooner or later. It is inevitable. The instant the perceived challenge is issued, your desiccated space programs will flare back to life. You humans are incredibly competitive, though in a different way than Asgardians. We are more individual, but you drift towards teams. It will be interesting to see how the competition plays out.”

“You're looking forward to this?” you asked.

“I am counting on it.” he said. “Now, do you think that house would be big enough for you? It will be roughly three times the size of your current apartment, and partially underground. Would that bother you? Would you need more space?”

The notebook slipped to the floor. “You can't mean...” you whispered.

“Give it some thought. It won't be for a while yet, but I'm pretty sure it will be within your lifetime. Would you like to be the first human on Mars? Beat that so-called genius to the red planet? See us kickstart the world?”

It was a fantastic dream. Impossible. Completely impossible. But could you? “I-I don't know...”

“Think on it. But for now, I think this medicine is making me weary. I am losing track of time and thought. Take me to the window, and sit with me there.”

You did, making yourself comfortable on your special cushion, as he rambled about Asgardian building techniques, methods of energy storage, and how to contain oxygen in their hypothetical underground cities while working on building a sustainable atmosphere. He talked about Mars as if it were no more than a challenge, explaining all the resources that made the planet such a likely candidate for the transformation process. How they could alter the thin atmosphere with Thor's power to create ozone, split molecules to create oxygen, how to decontaminate irradiated soil, and even enrich it with naturally occurring resources. You didn't understand much of it, but the gist was that they had done this before, and only lacked the resources to build the tools they needed. As soon as they had that, there were no limits. According to Loki, it could all be done very fast.

And he was very fixated on the idea of you coming with him, seemed to have a very romanticized view of the human drive to explore. In some ways, he wasn't wrong. The thought of being the first human to travel to the red planet, to walk on its surface, to live there-it was thrilling. It was a dream humankind had harbored for a long time.

On the other hand, as far as you understood, Mars was kind of a shithole.

Yes, Loki claimed that his people could change that, prattling on about groves, and grasslands, and even tropics. He was also high. He could just as easily be talking nonsense.

Atmosphere notwithstanding, Mars was farther from the sun than Earth was. Wouldn't it always be colder? You could envision, after a lot of work and change, the planet hosting the kinds of things that grew in Siberia maybe. Lichens and short, scrubby grasses, possibly even conifers. Maybe seaweed, in the great seas and lakes he described the icecaps filling up.

But delicate tropical flowers, and big, soft fruits, and plants that needed three hundred days of strong sun and sweltering temperatures to thrive? No way. Better to leave the jungles to Venus.

Which was apparently part of the plan. The thinning of the atmosphere of Venus, would contribute to the thickening of the atmosphere of Mars. It involved even more technobabble that you couldn't grasp, but Loki was very sure about the viability of transferring resources throughout the solar system. From atmosphere, to water, to metals, to trace elements, Asgardians apparently knew how to do it all. It almost made you believe it.

Loki babbled like a bird all through dinner and the evening, and you were almost glad to be sent off the warm his bed. Your brain was exhausted, but he was as energetic as ever.

Stripped of your uniform, you snuggled into his luxurious bed, still trying to resolve the image of Loki-lover of opulent baths, rich clothing, and indulgent bedding-with that of an excited, daring, and rough living pioneer. You drifted off to a daydream of him, in a pith helmet and beige jodhpurs, standing majestically in a jeep that kicked up the Martian dust behind it...

                                                                               ******

...And awoke to Loki sniffing your hair.

He was pressed all alongside you, snuggled up with an arm thrown over your waist. And he was sniffing your hair.

He must have noticed a change in your breathing or physical pliancy, because he withdrew his arm immediately.

“Ah.” he whispered. “The jig is up, as they say.”

You scooted quickly away from him.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” you demanded.

“Forgive me.” he said, yawning. “You just seemed so peaceful. I thought it a shame to wake you.”

“Did you turn off my alarm?”

He had the grace to look mildly ashamed.

“That...might have happened.”

“And there was nothing you could do but try to cop a feel?”

“I prefer to think of it as a friendly cuddle.”

“Well don't! Don't think you can just do whatever you want with me!”

“I shan't, I promise. As your master, I promise, I will not again overstep the bounds of our agreement. As my servant, I ask your trust.”

“...Maybe tomorrow.”

Face burning fiercely, you exited the bed, and hurried for the door. Your clothing was on the other side of the bed-the other side of Loki. In the dark, he might or might not getting a good look at your underwear clad rear, depending on how well Asgardians could see in the dark, so you booked it out of his room, across the hall, and into yours before he could say anything.

You threw yourself onto your futon, huddled down in your nice new blankets, and shivered. Your trust? He asked for your trust? He asked you to leave everything you knew, your whole world, to walk the distant sands of Mars? Something you couldn't even safely do until the planet had been transformed? He dared to lure you into a false sense of security in his sweet-smelling bed, and then ask for your trust? How much of your life were you willing to give?

[arthurmorganuniverse]

A Place For Us

Pairings: Arthur Morgan x F!reader

Word Count: 4,434

Summary: Arthur has let you tag along on his latest hunting trip. Only you’re now caught in a snowstorm and need a way to keep warm. (AKA the ole’ sharing a bed trope)

Warnings: Poorly written smut ahead my friends. Tread carefully. Also, I twist property law to suit my purposes. Law aficionados, look away. 

Notes: Might make this a series of drabbles or something for this particular pair. Like, one about when they go hunt the bison. Might have Arthur get her the white Arabian. Maybe when they get back to the main camp they keep buying stuff to take back to “their” cabin, etc. Let me know if I should! 

You and Arthur had been on the road for several days now hunting down something he called a “Ghost Bison.” While you were excited that he’d asked you to come along, you hadn’t ever traveled this far on horseback before. Your ass felt permanently glued to the saddle and you were exhausted. Not to mention that the skies were looking rather ominous today, dark clouds signaling a storm on the way.

You hadn’t mentioned anything to him, of course, since you didn’t want to mess this up and make it so he’d never invite you along again. The two of you had never really had much of an opportunity to spend time alone together before, and although you were terrified that you’d make a fool of yourself, it had been too good of a chance to waste.

Even so, despite you keeping your complaints to yourself, he still seemed to catch on easily by himself. He stopped and camped regularly enough, making sure you ate and drank plenty and got moments to stretch off of the giant Shire you’d grabbed on the way since it was the only one big enough to handle carting everything back. 

Judging by Arthur’s frequent glances towards the sky, he also was beginning to share your worries about the storm. You were getting closer to where the bison was rumored to be, but finding shelter from the inevitable snowstorm was going to be difficult. Your meager tents were not going to get the job done.

Finally, after yet another full day in the saddle, and with the clouds looming above signaling the snowfall would hit at any moment, the two of you came across a decent looking cabin. To find anyone out this far into the mountains was a miracle, and you just hoped the folks living here would give you shelter without anyone resorting to violence. Hell, you’d even sleep in the small barn off to the side, no arguments. Anything was better than trying to risk the coming storm in the small tents you had.

Arthur silently signaled you to hold back while he walked towards the house. You did as you were told but brought your revolver out just in case. 

“Hello? Anybody home?” Arthur called out as he raised his hands up. “Weapons are away. Just looking for a dry spot to sleep tonight!” The weapons were technically away, although the both of you had your fingers at the ready. 

He rapped on the door, and after a few moments of silence tested the doorknob. It opened easily and he peeked inside, keeping his hand on his holster in case anyone was trying to get the jump on him. Finding nothing, he finally gestured to you to follow. 

You hitch the horse to the porch and walk inside, surprised to find the place looking somewhat decent. It was a little dusty, but the overall appearance of the place was clean and well kept. After poking around in some cupboards, you see that the kitchen is fully stocked, which could be helpful if this wasn’t a trap. After further inspection, you also find a massive bed in one of the rooms, covered in at least four quilts and even some fluffy feather pillows. Both the living room and the bedroom boasted a good sized fireplace as well. All in all, this place seemed almost too good to be true. Where were the owners? 

“You look like you’re thinkin’ what I am, so I’m gonna go take a look around outside, see if I can’t find our host,” Arthur stated as met up with you in the kitchen. “Stay around the cabin and keep your gun handy.” 

“I will. Be careful.” 

Arthur nods and squeezes your shoulder when he passes on his way to the door. He shuts it quietly behind him as you stare vacantly at the space he’d just left. You could still feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder, heavy and comforting. You blush at your stupidity, acting like a little girl just because some fella touched her innocently. Never mind that he’d never touched you before. 

You shake it off and keep your hand on your holster as you wander around the house, taking stock of anything that might be valuable. There wasn’t much, as it seemed whoever lived here was more of a practical soul, even if the everyday things were made to be comfortable. There were no womanly touches to be found, but the person did enjoy plush linens and good sturdy furniture. You’d even found an enormous copper tub in the other room, along with a huge stash of sandalwood soap. You hoped you get a chance to use it, as you hadn’t had a proper wash in four days. There was only one bed in the house, leaving sharing the bed the only option so you would feel better about sleeping next to Arthur if you knew that you at least smelled okay. 

You continue your search, rifling through a little writing desk until you find a series of letters. 

“Well, well. Good to meet you, Elijah Foster,” you mumble as you read the address. You skim through the letters to find any hints of what kind of person lived here, hoping it was someone that Arthur wouldn’t have any trouble dealing with. 

Based on the stack of letters, it was a single man with no family, as he often complained about having to live alone. He mostly wrote back and forth with some friend of his talking about the good ole days and swapping homestead advice. It sounded like he was just an old man. 

You wander towards the back door and poke your head out, listening for anything suspicious. There was nothing more than the usual sounds of nature, which could be both good and bad. Still, you trusted that Arthur could handle himself, so you won’t too worried. Instead, you take note of the chicken coop and large garden that could prove to be handy soon, then head back into the relative safety of the cabin. 

Moments later, Arthur comes in through the back door, blowing into his hands to warm them.

“Found an old fella out near the well. No wounds or nothin’. Was probably doin’ chores and his heart just gave out. I buried him not too far away.” 

You nod and show him the papers you’d found. He quickly glances through them, coming to the same conclusion you did. 

“I’ll go carve his name tomorrow. I want to head back out to this shed I saw on my way back right now. Looked like a smokehouse, so we might find something for supper.” 

“Sounds good. If not, there are lots of things here in the kitchen too. Dear Elijah sure loved his food,” you chuckle, waving Arthur off as he heads back outside. 

With the news that it seemed safe to stay, you let your guard down a little bit, peeling off your filthy jacket and hat. You set them off to the side, wondering if you could convince Arthur to stay long enough to do some laundry. You were sure he needed some clean clothes too. 

Upon inspection, the wooden stove seems in perfect working order and already has a stack of kindling and wood ready to go next to it. You set the kindling inside and light it up, knowing it will take a while to get to a good temperature for even cooking. While the stove warms, you hum and go through the cupboards as you try to figure out what to make for supper. Arthur comes stomping back inside moments later, arms filled with goods and grinning happily. 

“I was right about the meat. He had a whole root cellar going on underground. Found some ham, bacon, and some sort of sausages. The best part is the place was filled with home canned goods and even some fruits and vegetables. Got some peaches and apples, even found some eggs and butter. Figured we could do with a little treat.” 

“We can make all kinds of stuff with that! I am starving right now, so we’ll make something quick. Maybe the sausages and a potato hash? Might have the stuff to make some fry bread with it. Then maybe a cobbler for dessert. We’ll save the bacon for breakfast and make some fried apples too.” 

“If you say so,” Arthurs deadpans and settles all of his finds on the dining room table. 

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You still don’t believe that I can cook.” 

“Didn’t say that, Miss. Just haven’t seen any evidence to support your claims.” 

You should probably be offended, but a smiling and teasing Arthur was such a rare treat that you could only bring yourself to blush and smile back. 

“I’ll show you. Out of my kitchen, mister. You should get both of the fireplaces going. The chill is really starting to hit this place.” 

“Good idea. I’ll get the tub filled too. Try not to burn my food, woman.” 

“So rude. Now, where did I put that poison?”

Arthur laughs as he heads outside. You focus on cooking while he comes in and out, carrying loads of firewood and huge buckets of water. The poor man was certainly getting a workout today. You were sure he was looking forward to a bath now. 

Dinner was nearly done by the time he joins you in the kitchen, poking his head over your shoulder to look at the cobbler you were putting together. 

“The man sure liked his comforts. That bed is big enough for four. I think the two of us will be plenty comfortable.” 

You were glad he couldn’t see your face, as the reminder of where you’d be sleeping tonight must have made you resemble a tomato. You stick the cobbler in the oven to avoid looking at him and begin to dish out the sausages, potatoes, and bread you’d put together for supper while Arthur continues looking through the cupboards. 

“There must be forty pounds of beans here. Could feed an army. Would be good with some of that bacon.” 

“I am not making you any beans if I’m supposed to be sharing a bed with you, Arthur Morgan.” 

“That’s probably smart thinkin’,” he chuckles, sitting at the dining room table as you set the plates down, along with a pitcher of water he’d pumped earlier. 

You roll your eyes as Arthur playfully makes a big show of sniffing his fork before he takes a bite. Your smile quickly turns smug as his eyes widen. 

“Now why in the hell have I been eating Pearson’s slop if you can cook like this?” 

You giggle and take a bit of your own food, pleased as he starts to dig in with relish. 

“Pearson would never give up his job. Besides, this is pretty simple. Hard to mess up sausages and hash. The real test is my cobbler.” 

Arthur grunts, shoving an entire half a sausage in his mouth as he chews happily. The meal soon became a quiet affair as your hunger caught up with you as well, and the two of you went to work devouring every bit quickly. The cobbler went by just as fast, with Arthur’s moan of delight being compliment enough. 

Once your bellies were full with nary a crumb of leftovers in sight, the both of you leaned back into your chairs, sighing in contentment. 

“Pearson can keep cooking for the rest of them, but I’ll only eat if you cook for me. You’re not gonna let me starve, right? You’ll cook for me again?” Arthur asked as he rubbed his belly, his soft smile sending your insides fluttering.  

“You’re ridiculous. Yes. If we happen to be in camp at the same time and Pearson won’t kill me for using his supplies, I’ll cook for you again.” 

Arthur helps you bring the dishes to the sink and even dries them while you wash. The easy way that the two of you work together makes you feel like you’ve done this millions of times. 

When everything is clean, Arthur heads to the bedroom while you sit down on the sofa near the fire and begin pulling off your boots. They have a couple of new holes after this trip, making you cringe a bit. You’ll have to find a new pair before these fall apart completely. Arthur comes out a few moments later, carrying one of his union shirts. You were very familiar with those shirts, as they were usually fairly tight on him and highlighted his impressive back muscles. 

“Thought you could use something to wear to bed. You can take the bath first.” 

You accept the shirt, knowing the thing will probably reach nearly to your knees and cover you well enough. 

“You sure? You’ve worked hard, so I don’t mind waiting.” 

“Nah, it’s alright. The water will be dirtier for you if I go first. Little thing like you can’t hold much dirt.” 

You snort over your shoulder as you head to the bathing room. “You’d be surprised.” 

You strip quickly once you shut the door behind you, glad that you wouldn’t have to put any of those clothes back on when you were done. Everything you had was filthy. You didn’t even have a clean pair of bloomers to wear. The coals under the tub had kept the water nice and warm, and you sighed as you slid into the blessed comfort. Arthur had even set out a couple of washcloths and a bar of soap on the end table near the tub. 

As you wash the days of grime away, you peer out of the window and see that the snow is finally coming down hard. It’s probably a pretty good guess that the two of you might be snowed in here for a couple days unless Arthur wants to tough it out. You really hope he doesn’t. 

You quickly finish up in the tub, wanting to leave Arthur with plenty of warm water, and dry off, wringing your hair out as best you can. You slip on the shirt and take a little sniff, pleased that it smelled like Arthur. Looking around, you find an unopened container of tooth powder, so you wet a washcloth and do your best. 

You take a deep breath and open the door to find Arthur lounging on the sofa, his boots and hat already off, and he was near to dozing off by the looks of it. He cracks open an eye as you step out, then slowly sits up straight, staring at you wide-eyed as you shyly stand there. 

“It’s all ready for you,” you mumble, the cold air reminding you of just how exposed you are right now. 

Arthur audibly swallows as his gaze travels from your hair drying wildly and loose, to your bare legs, glimpses of your thighs poking from underneath his shirt if you shifted. 

Finally, he clears his throat and picks up the clothes he had handy, holding them in front of his lap as he hurries past you. The door closes behind him without another word. You quirk an eyebrow at the door, then shrug and bank the fire in the main room before heading to the bedroom. 

The bedroom is sufficiently cozy, with the fire a gentle heat now and the windows weatherproofed. You slip under the covers on the right side, knowing Arthur will want to be on the left and closer to the door. After that it’s just a matter of trying to remember to breathe despite how nervous you were. 

You lose track of time and the warmth seeps into your bones, making you drowsy, and you close your eyes for a few moments. Eventually, the gush a cold air hits your face as Arthur enters the room and quickly shuts the door behind him. 

The room is suddenly filled with the scent of sandalwood as the freshly bathed man settles his things around. You can hear him putting his guns on the nightstand before the bed dips a little and the blanket is moved to allow him to slip underneath. 

The bed is big enough that you aren’t touching each other, but you can feel the heat of his skin and he settles onto his back next to you. 

“Night, Arthur.” 

“Night.” 

You nervously listen to his breathing, your heart going crazy being in such an intimate setting with a man and not being allowed to touch. Eventually, you heard him drift off, and allowed yourself to follow soon after. 

~

You were so damn warm. Too warm. The air around you nearly stifling your ability to breathe. Your eyes flutter open and you sleepily look around. It’s barely morning, just a hint of light showing through the window. 

There’s a heavy weight across your back and waist, so you peel the blanket back to peer under. Arthur has molded himself to you during the night, his legs tangled in yours and his arm across your waist. His skin is so unbelievably hot, and you guess that’s what woke you up. Your shirt had been ridden up a little too high for comfort, but at least you weren’t completely exposed. 

This was nice, though. You knew the proper thing to do would be to sneakily climb out of his tangled limbs, but it was so good. It had been a long time since you’d felt this safe and secure. 

Your plan was simply to fall back asleep like this and deal with the awkwardness in the morning. As you closed your eyes and began to let the heaviness of slumber take you over again, it seemed like a great plan. 

Until he shifted in his sleep, pulling your hips closer to his lap and settling something hard and warm against your backside. 

Suddenly all the blood in your body pooled downstairs, making you throb and dampen as you realize what that is and how close you are to it. 

You slowly peer over your shoulder and see that Arthur is still fast asleep. And apparently having a great dream, judging by the twitching appendage that was being rocked against you ever so slightly. 

You bite your lip and debate stopping him. Waking him up and acting like nothing was wrong was probably the polite thing. A good girl would even smack him and demand he apologize for acting like an animal even in sleep. 

No one had ever said you were a good girl. 

Your hips seemed to move of their own volition, pressing harder against his erection as his movements sped up. The massive hand that had been gripping onto your waist slowly slid up until it was cradling one of your breasts, somehow gentle with them in sleep. Arthur grunted and pressed his head into your neck, nipping at the skin lightly. 

You couldn’t hold back the moan as Arthur suckled a little harder on your neck, and you felt the jolt as he woke up, stilling almost instantly. 

“...Y/n?” 

He was trying to pull his arm off of you, but you clutched it hard. 

“I’m so sorry. Fuck, I’m just gonna...” Arthur tried to pull away again, but you tugged him closer, peering at him over your shoulder. His breath hitches and you know what he sees. Your lips chewed from trying to keep quiet, hair mussed and bite marks on your neck. Debauched. 

“Arthur, please.” 

He gulps and settles back, letting you bring his hand back up to your breast. 

“You really want this? I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once I start.” 

You hum and wiggle your butt against his erection, pleased to hear his whispered curse. 

“I want this. Want you.” 

You can feel him nod behind you, then he slides his hand slowly down your body, reaching underneath the shirt that was now bunched up to your waist.

“Easy girl, I got you,” Arthur mumbles as his hand reaches your core. 

“Darlin’ you are soaking wet.” 

His fingers part your folds, circling around to gather up your essence on them before slowing slipping one inside. 

“Shit, you are so ready to go. Feel so good. Take one more for me.” 

His hips are slowly grinding into you from behind, betraying how excited he is despite the calmness of his voice. He slowly slides another finger inside as his thumb circles your clit. 

“There’s a good girl,” he groans against your neck. 

You can’t help the little giggle that escapes. 

Arthur props himself up to lean over and look at your face. 

“What is so darn funny? Ain’t polite to laugh while a fellas trying to make you feel good.” 

“I’m sorry, it feels amazing. Really. You’re just so adorable I couldn’t help it.” 

“Adorable?” Arthur crinkles his nose like you’d just insulted him. 

“You talk to me like I’m your horse,” you giggle again, unable to stop it. 

He groans with embarrassment and presses his face back into your neck.

“Just have to make it so you can’t laugh then.” 

He pulls his fingers out, leaving you feeling horribly empty. You can feel him messing around with his own pants, trying to pull and kick them off under the covers. Then he picks up your leg and slings across his hip, his cock now laying heavy against your core. 

He slides it around, coating it before settling it against your opening. 

“Last chance to back out. You sure you want me?” 

“Yes. Do it, please.” 

Arthur slides in embarrassingly easy, grunting and tightening his hold on you as he fully sheathes himself. 

“You are so tight. I’m worried I’m not going to last long,” he mutters as he starts to thrust. 

You are pretty sure you’re not going to last either, because you’d barely started and you could feel your orgasm building up. You could hear how wet you were, every thrust creating an embarrassing squelching sound. He speeds up, his hips slamming into you, and the room is filled with the slaps of skin on skin. You can’t even think anymore, the only sounds you’re capable of making are whining and grunting his name. Arthur leans across your back to kiss and suck on your neck, one of his hands reaching under you to rub your clit.

“You feel so good, darlin’. You’re so tight and wet. And you sound so pretty. Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes! Please, I’m so close!” You moan loudly, thrusting your hips back to meet his.

“Oh god, sweetheart, I’m going to cum soon. I can’t hold off anymore. Cum with me.” He whispers in your ear, biting the lobe, and you let go, screaming his name into the pillow. He thrusts hard three more times and cums with a loud, guttural groan into your neck. You both stay like that, breathing heavily as you come down and he strokes your stomach. After a minute, he finally pulls out, leaving you cringing as you feel yourself spill onto the sheets. 

It’s quiet as you both catch your breath. You can hear Arthur’s heartbeat slowing down as you lay on his chest. You wanted to know what this all meant. If this was just sex for him or if he was sweet on you. You had no idea how to go about asking him without sounding desperate. 

“I can hear you overthinking.” He chuckles into your hair. He leans back and tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“So what’s it gonna be? This a one time thing, or is it more?” 

“I’d like it to be more,” you answer shyly, and he seems pleased with your response as he pulls your closer to him and leans over to peck your lips. 

“Alright. We can do whatever you wanna do. You call the shots here.” 

“Well, I don’t know how smart it is giving me that much power, Arthur Morgan.” 

He chuckles, grabbing a handful of your hair and playing with it. 

“Don’t think I’d mind if it’s you.” 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments before the urge to find the outhouse became too great. After taking care of business and freshening up, you make breakfast while Arthur goes looking through all the papers in old Elijah’s desk. 

“Here, look at this one.” 

You wipe your hands off on the dish towel and hold the paper near the window, seeing that Arthur has found the deed to the property. 

“You know,” Arthur says thoughtfully, rubbing his hand across his beard. “He didn’t have nobody else. It’d be easy as hell to write something up and say he sold it to us. Go to town and have ‘em file it up. It could be ours.” 

You stare at him in wonder. “Really?” 

“Not gonna leave the others in the dust, of course, but we could have a place out here for when we need it. Or to just get away sometimes. Just the two of us.” 

You’re absolutely beaming with you throw yourself at him and he pulls you into a hug, placing a kiss onto the top of your head. 

“A place for us.” 

[brookelynnsanders]

The Early Bird Catches the Worm

A/N: Very rushed fic but I didn’t wanna get the idea and lovelvy rp with @itzelbm-oc go to waste - thanks to my amazing betas - grammerly and God

The morning sun rays heat up exposed limbs as baby hair sticks to Brooke's sweaty neck. The clear air fills up her nostrils as she stretches her legs, enjoying the microscopic small moment of quiet in the royal garden after her last little cool down sprint. Her head is rainless for the first time in weeks. The heartbeat pulsing blood through her veins a state of calm rather than anxious anticipation.

Yet once she looks up from her current stretch, she spots another girl across the meadow. A selected according to the name tag she can spot from afar. "Who the heck is up at this time,” the blonde umbels to herself. Not mentally prepared for small talk this early. Her ponytail bounces from side to side as she shakes her head and continues stretching her hip and lower back muscles. Just focusing on her breath.

A way too enthusiastic 'Morning' by the other woman pulls her from her state of deep concentration. She glances up mid-stretch and slightly rolls her eyes before giving up on her cool down. So she gets back up again, preferring eye level to look the girl up and down in front of her. 

"So the early bird really does catch worm", she observes with a raised eyebrow.

"That is correct", the brunette shoots back, "All we have to do is find out which one is the bird and whose the worm." The woman chuckles before introducing herself. "I'm Itzel by the way. I'm surprised someone would willingly, apart from those who work, wake up at this hour." 

"I am Brooke whose body doesn't remember what sleeping in means," Brooks answers dryly, before adding with a sly smirk after a brief pause, "and just to make it clear, I am the bird." 

The wink making her counterpart smile while indulging her in a metaphorical discussion about the worms and the birds. 

So she isn’t the only one who is delusional at this hour.

"Although, if I recall the full sentence I believe it goes like this...the early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese. I think I fit being the mouse rather than the worm.” Lady Itzel says with a small smirk and winks back at her. Which spoils over into a discussion about alcoholic drinks bets fitted to be served with cheese. 

The only conversation appropriate at sunrise.

“I mean I am more a whiskey kind of girl but wine doesn't sound too bad either and my only purpose is to have fun in this chaos I managed to find myself in. So if having fun means spooking little worms - I am all in.”

“Now that you mention it, you do look like a whiskey kind of girl.” The brunette raises her eyebrow - undeniably not the only one feeling the electricity in the air. “Is that so? Well, I hope you have luck finding little worms to spook because from what I've heard there aren't many these days. If not you should find other ways to find some fun in the chaos that has befallen you. So, I'm guessing you were having an early jog?”

“Yes, just finished my morning run. Needed to clear my head,” Brooke adds a bit soberer. Silently asking herself what else to do around here for fun.

“Me? Plans for fun?” Or not so silently. “Well, I started making a list on my way here. So far I've done a morning stroll, I've explored a bit. I mean you could read books? It depends on what you find fun. Are you an outdoor or indoor person? Maybe both? We can brainstorm together.”

I wasn’t prepared for that.

Brooke scoffs at Itzel’s suggestion, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I have read enough books for a lifetime.I feel like most mundane activities can be fun tho- with the right people around.”

Itzel’s laugh has a bitter aftertaste. “Oh my, pardon me for suggesting reading. I should've known you've read books beyond books.” A deep sigh escapes her lips as she shakes her head. “I'm sure that's true. Talking with you surely is something I actually found fun. Believe it or not.” Brooke raises her brows in return, a bit taken aback by that statement.

How can people be so open to complete strangers?

Aber a brief pause the woman across her tilts her head, before asking: “Do you have any suggestions about what mundane activity can be run- if the right people are involved?”

“Camping is definitely one of them, making daisy syrup, baking, even just cloud watching. Even better when you cloud watch on a camping trip while eating hash brownies with self-made daisy scrip”, Brooke smiles and slightly scrunches her nose at the memories of biannual camping trips with the people she calls home. 

“Those do sound like fun. Even better together. It's been a while since I thought about camping, making anything or baking, and especially cloud watching.  It's said that if you look at the sky at least 10 times a day then you are happy in life. So far I have only looked up at the sky once for today.” A small smile graces her lips as she lightly hums, probably deep in thought. Meanwhile, Broke’s irises wander up - really taking in the sky. Could this seriously make her happy? 

“Oh, karaoke! That can be fun! Or going on a hike. Ah, soccer. I love soccer.” The blonde caves in shock for a brief second at the sudden voice onset, before her face morphs into visible disgust at the mention of karaoke and soccer. Itzel only grins in return before continuing: “Eating is for sure something is fun though. I can't wait for breakfast.”

“It will be interesting to see how royals dine.” The words automatically spilling from her mouth as her consciousness buried herself deep in thoughts again. Just the word “royals” is a heavy one to roll off her tongue.

“There's going to be a lot of interesting things in the palace. The royals, the girls, and so many other things. One thing is for sure I think I'll stick around you Brooke. You seem fun and I need fun. Even if you do seem to dislike soccer and karaoke. I wonder if there's something we both dislike.”

This girl really does talk a lot - huh?

“There is a lot of stuff I dislike,” Brooke adds with a chuckle.

“That's fair. I mean there's a lot of things to dislike in this world.” Her head slowly bops up and down, adding a more serious note to her tone.

The birds seemingly agreeing with Itzel’s statement as they pick up their mating melody again.

“Rape culture is one of them. Freud the other.” The urge to roll her eye, one the blonde is unable to resist. 

“I mean rape culture is definitely something to hate. And obviously Freud should be disliked more. His thought process was twisted and horrible. Just nasty! My dad once referenced to Freud and I still let him know there were plenty of other people or things to use than Freud.”

So we do have something in common. Nice.

“Every time I read his name my skin begins to crawl... I have no words for this man.”

“I don't understand why he's praised for his contribution to psychology. It's-” the brunette sighs and shakes her head at her loss for words. “Yeah, I'm speechless.”

Brooke couldn’t agree more with this statement. Her extensive studying of his work hasn’t made her question her previous view on Freud. Once an anti-Freudian, always an anti-Freudian.

“I feel like enough men loved supporting his misogynistic theories - and then there was Watson who started out trying to support Freud and became an anti-Freudian”. A burst of nasty laughter echoing through the royal gardens at the ridiculousness of this all. Itzel only adding to the choir.

“I still think men love his misogynistic theories to this day. I can't believe he's still someone we have to learn about. Sometimes it takes time to realize 'damn. Never mind this guy is a bastard.”

Brooke nods along. He may be a part of history but that doesn’t justify his glorification.

“On that topic. I don't think I remember ever learning about a female psychologist with major accomplishments. I am sure there are plenty - but a history written by men likes to erase them.” The blonde adds - properly giving into the discussion at hand.

“You're right! And if we did they barely mentioned them! Now I'm curious to look into that. Oh and philosophy, the course I spoke of one female philosopher. Just one among many men. I'm just glad there are some changes now.” Itzel elaborates with her delicate hands waving around. Each movement an additional message.

As the conversation shifts to women in STEM and how bright the future will look, Brooke can’t help but dream about her future. “Can't wait to be one of them,” she adds as she smiles. Her view shifts around - realizing that she isn’t sure anymore if that's part of her future.

“Well, I look forward to that. I am a strong believer that with hard work you'll be able to achieve anything. And I have a good feeling that you'll reach that goal. No matter what. And I can't wait to see you as a renowned philosopher”, Itzel adds as she looks up at the sky again, sighing deeply. Probably having a matching train of thought as the blonde. “Even if the future is unpredictable for now.”

Unspoken anxious whispers filling the air between the two silent women. Each of them fighting their own fear of uncertainty. A weakness Brooke prefers to keep behind her facade.

“At the mention of unpredictably. The distant future might be unpredictable but,” Brooke looks down at her sport outfit, “I have a feeling my maids will be mad if I show up late to breakfast or without "proper" clothes on.” 

The upcoming spectacle of breakfast with the selected suddenly a welcoming distraction.

Itzel has a brief look at her own outfit and scrunches her nose up. “My maids may have a similar feeling. Especially since I wake up pretty early they arrive there early.”  As her eyes focus back on the very neutral face of the blonde, she smiles at her counterpart. “Well, Birdy if you ever need any fun like making up a fake camping area we might find a place. Or maybe just to watch the sky then I'm all for it. Or maybe your daily jog. I hear it's better when you have competition.”

“I'll definitely hit you up on the last one cheeky mouse. It was nice meeting you.” Brooke pulls herself out of the building carousel of thoughts and winks at Itzel with one last grin. Itzel only scoffs to mask the smile creeping up on her lips again. “Nice meeting you too.”

Brooke Lynn turns around mid-sentence and makes her way back into the building with a light jog in her step. Silently repeating the much-needed directions. Second floor, right, right, left. Second floor, right, right, left. Second floor, right, right, left.

[that-yandere-life]

Who Hides In The Darkness-Chapter One: Dinner To Die For

[Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback you all gave on my preview! Here is chapter number one I hope that you all like it!!! If you have the chance could you please give me feedback once again! Thank you for reading! (If you want to be added to the tag list let me know!) <3 <3 <3]

[Trigger Warning: Character Death, Slight NSFW mentioned]

Flashback/Preview-

Holding the mysterious invitation in your hand as you approached the mansion in the attire that had been provided for you. It was clearly a vintage sort of costume party being held by none other than the notorious Tony Stark. Setting your suitcase on the front steps you wondered if anyone else had arrived before you. That question was answered almost instantly as a man you knew to be Happy, Tony’s head of security walked out to greet you.

Taking your suitcase he led the way not saying much beyond his initial introduction and pleasantries. Looking around once you entered the building you couldn’t believe your very eyes. It was quite possibly the most beautiful place you had ever seen let alone gotten to stay the weekend in. Everything around you was perfectly placed and designed, it was hard not to get lost in your surroundings.

“Everyone is already in the main lounge waiting to begin.”Happy said breaking out of your wowed trance like state.

Upon entering you could see all the people you had been working side by side with for the past two years. A group with varying personalities that somehow mesh together to be able to manage to save the world many times over. Giving everyone a quick hello and wave you turned your attention to the front of the room where Tony stood a glass of whiskey in hand.

“Welcome everyone! Thank you so much for joining me in my little venture here this weekend! Now I’m sure you are wondering why you are all here and dressed in these period outfits, I promise all will be revealed shortly! This actually is a competition and I know how competitive you all are so this should prove to be most entertaining.”Tony started off swirling the liquid in his glass wanting to build the anticipation.

“What I didn’t mention in my invitation was that this mansion you are in happens to be haunted. There have been experiences that cannot be explained, and disappearances that have never been solved. So what I propose to you all here before me is this, if you can stay in this mansion for the entirety of the weekend you will win a million dollars cash. Once you agree the doors will be locked and no one can leave unless they forfeit their potential winnings. The period outfits are to enhance the spirit energy since most of the activity seems linked to that specific time in history. Now make your choice, either stay and make your dreams come true… or walk out that door right and never return.”Tony said looking to the small congregation of people surrounding him now whispering to each other in hushed tones.

“I’m in.”You announced shrugging slightly not even really thinking about it, you weren’t worried about being haunted having always felt at ease around most spirits. What you didn’t know was that there was more than spirits hiding in the darkness…

Chapter One: Dinner To Die For-

Once you had been shown to your room you were told to freshen up for dinner, that would start at exactly seven o’clock. Looking around the luxurious suite that had been provided for you, it seemed much fancier than you deserved. A dark oak canopy bed with a deep red silk top comforter, red silk sheets beneath to match, giant fluffy pillows that could be mistaken for actual clouds. Not to mention the mattress probably felt like a dream, it was all of the highest quality available. Lost in thought you didn’t even notice someone standing in your doorway watching you with amusement.

“Like what you see?”A voice called out breaking you out of your concentration, loud enough that you could distinguish that it was your best friend Natasha.

“It’s truly the epitome of no expenses spared. I’m not sure it’s all necessary but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy it.”You laughed turning to face her now. “Tony does have a certain reputation to maintain I suppose.”You shrugged chuckling slightly.

“A flair for the dramatic is more like it, you ready to head downstairs to drink some wine and have a good ass time?”Natasha asked walking over locking her arm in yours to lead the way.

“But of course.”You reply in an over exaggerated posh accent. “We shan't keep them waiting after all.”

The two of you headed down the tall staircase with intricate designs carved into the railing almost seeming like it was depicting a story as you took your descent. Reaching the bottom you both were greeted by Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Sam Wilson. “Hey guys, we have been waiting for you.”Steve said with a small cheeky grin on his face. “I must say the period outfits suit you both.”He said with a small bow, just using the top half of his body.

“You clean up pretty well yourself Rogers.”Natasha retorted snickering a little. “Why don’t you ladies lead the way to dinner.”She suggested a smirk plastered across her face knowing that she was slightly antagonizing him but it was all a part of her charm.

“Excuse me, I’m actually a gentleman. May I accompany you to dinner this evening?”Sam asked holding his hand out to you, kissing the top of yours when you took it. “Let’s let them hash this out themselves shall we?”He grinned wiggling his eyebrows slightly making you giggle.

Starting to walk into the dining room you were amazed at how large the table in the center was, and how many people it was set up for. Plates, silverware, wine classes, centerpieces, lit candles, it had everything you could imagine straight out of some gothic horror movie. Sam pulled out the chair that had your place marker set in front of it, pushing it in as you sat down. “Thanks Sam.”You smiled feeling your cheeks heat up slightly at the wink he responded with before taking his own seat.

After a short while everyone had taken their seats and Tony stood at the head silencing everyone for a speech. “Thank you again for being here and deciding to stay for the festivities! We are going to kick this off with a nice feast like dinner, some adult beverages, and finish it off with some decadent dessert. I would like to propose a toast, to a weekend of fun, mayhem, and a good old fashioned haunting good time!”He said raising his glass, the rest having been filled during his rambling. Everyone took a sip before the conversation and laughter broke out once again amongst each other.

Several smartly dressed waiters brought the dinner out placing each dish in front of people with a silver dome cover. Curiously you looked to each side wondering who you were sat next to seeing it was Pietro Maximoff on the right, and Thor Odinson on the left. Thor was engaged in conversation with the person opposite of him so you turned to speak to Pietro. “It’s really over the top isn’t it?”You ask as the waiter removes the cover for you revealing a plate of steaming freshly cooked food.

“It might be, but I think we deserve it. Especially you, you work too hard you need more fun in your life.”Pietro replied smirking a little, clearly flirting with you.

“Oh and what kind of fun might that be?”You asked trying not to let your smile break through just yet but desperately failing.

“I can show you, just say the word.”He whispered into your ear causing your breath to hitch slightly, checking to make sure no one else heard him. “Don’t be shy now, we’re both adults here. It’s not like Stark doesn’t expect something to happen between any of his guests.”Pietro teased quietly still keeping the conversation between the two of you.

“After dinner.”You mustered out under your breath trying to focus on calming down, taking a huge swig of wine gulping it down harshly. At this point you needed some liquid courage in your veins if you were going to deal with the fastest man in the world. Possibly with the world’s largest amount of stamina paired with it. Picking at your dinner it was delicious but you were too distracted by your own thoughts to full enjoy it.

Once the dinner plates had been removed, the wine refilled, and dessert placed in front of you it felt like the time was right. Swiveling sideways in your chair to look at Pietro who was currently stuffing his face with what appeared to be lemon meringue pie. Of course you couldn’t help but chuckle as you used a napkin to wipe off some of the meringue left on his lip. Suddenly his face crumpled into a pained expression taking you off guard.

Foam started dripping from his mouth and he started to convulse in front of your very eyes. Screaming you caught the attention of everyone, shooting out of your chair. “Help him!”You called out looking for Bruce since he would be the only one who might be able to do anything. Eyes filled with tears as Wanda rushed over taking her brother into her arms, sliding out of the chair onto the floor. “What’s happening?!”

“Piet Piet look at me...LOOK AT ME! You can’t leave me, you can’t.”Wanda shouted shaking and begging her brother, the light softly leaving his eyes as the entire party watched on with terrified expressions.

“He’s gone Wanda, there was nothing we could do. It looks like he might have been poisoned, there are very few things that can cause a reaction like that, that fast.”Bruce said shaking his head as he knelt down checking for a pulse.

“NO NO NO NO!”Wanda screamed, heart wrenching sobbing shaking throughout her entire body as Natasha tried to get her to move away from her brothers body.

“Baby you shouldn’t see him like this, he wouldn’t want you to.”Natasha said softly pulling her off the floor and into her chest holding her tightly. “I’m going to take her to her room.”She said leading the poor girl away.

All you could do was stare on as tears fell down your face rapidly, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak. Arms wrapped around you gently guiding you to turn away from the sight before you and into them. Burying your face into Clint’s broad chest you couldn’t help but begin sobbing.

“It had to be one of us…No one else is here but us, it’s the middle of nowhere. We need to call the police, this needs to be investigated.”Steve stated firmly looking around at the crowd of people who have become like family to each other.

“Only one problem with that Capsicle… No one has landlines anymore, and there is no service for cells out here in the woods. All the cars are gone, plus no civilization for miles and miles. We are totally isolated, we are going to have to figure this out ourselves. When I said we would be stuck out here for the weekend, I meant we would be stuck out here.”Tony explained biting his knuckle in contemplation. No one knowing if it was him trying to figure out who did it, or what in the hell they were going to do now.

End of Chapter One

Tag List: @beeeb05 , @albinotigerpython

[countess-rosegold-blog]

Saturday Brunch

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, some swearing

Word Count: 4,079

Note: This is the third part of my mini-series called All the Wrong Assumptions. Check out the first two chapters HERE.  

GIFs are NOT mine. 

If you happen to like, re-blog or send some feedback through a comment/ask, thank you! I appreciate you. 😘

It takes you less than 20 minutes to get ready. You were so excited at the prospect of finally meeting Angie Martinelli that you rushed through everything. Howard is standing in the hallway as you’re coming out of your apartment.

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this!” You say giddily as you lock the door. And because you can’t contain everything, you pinch his cheeks. “I could kiss you right now!”

Howard laughs under your touch just as the door beside your own opens. It’s James and a guy you’ve never seen before. They must have been in the middle of discussion when they pause upon seeing the two of you. You pull your hands when you realize you’re still holding Howard’s cheeks.

You offer a small “Hi,” embarrassed at how that show of affection must have looked like.

“Hello,” the guy with James offers. “I’m Steve.” Wow, you think. His blonde beauty contrast’s James brunette, but you can’t help but notice his ocean blue eyes much like your neighbor’s own.

You shake his outstretched hand. “I’m Y/N, and this is Howard.”

“Nice to meet you.” Steve addresses you both.

“Nice to meet you too.” Howard nods at the pair, his look lingering on James before looking away with a smirk.

“James.” You regard your neighbor, whose jaw clenches as soon as you say his name.

“It’s Bucky.” He says flatly and you’re taken aback. You remember him saying that earlier this morning, but you didn’t think it mattered that much.

“Right. Bucky. Sorry.” You’re shocked at your own clipped tone. You didn’t realize you were irritated at him until you heard yourself. “We’ll go ahead then. It’s nice meeting you, Steve.”

Without waiting for Howard, you make your way to the elevator. Your friend is close at your heels but does not say anything. You remain in silence until you’re a block away from your building, Howard not being able to contain himself.

“Well that’s one way to bring out a grumpy mood.” He drawls, hands in his pockets as you weave through the sea of New York pedestrians.

“Tell me about it. Wasn’t that just rude?” You spot a food cart ahead selling arepas de choclo and you reach for some change in your bag.

Howard notices. “Seriously? We’re headed to brunch.”

“This is warm up.” You wink at him. Normally he’d complain but he just chuckles this time. A few minutes later, you’re enjoying your snack and you resume walking.

“Huh,” you say in the middle of a big bite.

“What?”

“I figured it out.”

Howard just raises his brows in question.

“Buck-eee was so grumpy because I was ogling his boyfriend.” You giggle at the thought.

He narrows his eyes at you. “Boyfriend,” it was more a statement of disbelief than a question.

“Hmm-hmm.” You say through your chewing. “That Steve guy was. Buck-eee’s gay.”

“Gay,” Howard repeats, then scoffs. “No he’s not.”

“Yes he is.”

Howard’s about to argue with you but an unknown expression crosses his face. Then he smiles, “Never mind. We’re here.”

You reach the front steps of Langston & Lane, a casual restaurant with a specialty in brunch. You’re still not done with your snack so you motion for Howard to go ahead inside.

You’re savoring the last bites when nervousness dawns on you. Oh, God. I’m finally meeting this woman. What will she think of me, fooling her like that? No matter what Howard calls it, what he and I did was a con. Oh no. She’s gonna hate me. If she’s gonna date Howard, she should like me. But she’s gonna hate me now.

“Too late to turn back now,” you mutter under your breath. You compose yourself and head inside.

An instrumental of a new pop song plays in the background as a whiff of oranges, strawberries, coffee and fried food welcome you. You scan the crowd, by instinct looking toward your favorite spot, and sure enough you spot Howard’s back to you. As you approach, a beautiful woman’s face comes into view, accented by one of the most striking eyes you’ve ever seen.

Howard follows her gaze and stands up as he sees you, ushering you to the seat beside him.

“Hi! I’m Y/N.”

God she has the sweetest smile.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Angie.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Angie.” You say with extra sweetness. Oh my God! I’ll weird her out. Get your shit together, Y/L/N.

“Same here. I’m so glad to finally meet the gorgeous girlfriend of a new acquaintance.”

Something in your throat constricts. “No!” It came out louder than you intended, which startles Angie, Howard, and the next two tables. “Sorry,” you whisper to the neighboring seats.

“No,” you repeat dumbly.

Howard touches your hand and whispers, “I got it, Pickles.” Then he turns to Angie. “Angie, there’s a reason I brought Y/N with me and it’s more complicated than introducing you two.” He looks at you briefly and see your panic reflected in his eyes. Then he’s looking at her again. “You see, Y/N and I are not really together. She’s not my girlfriend.”

Angie stares blankly at Howard. 

You fidget in your seat as the silence drags on.

When she still doesn’t speak, Howard does. “Ange?”

Her trance is broken. “Processing information and trying not to walk out here.” She says through controlled breaths. “And Y/N, you seem like a really nice person--I hope I’m not wrong.”

You aren’t! I am nice. But you keep it to yourself. This won’t do you any good. Instead, you muster the courage to say, “I think this is a conversation meant for just the two of you. So I’m just gonna…” You get up from your chair and walk towards the exit. It takes a lot of willpower not to sneak back a glance, but you manage.

“God, I’m an idiot!” You say to no one once you’re at the sidewalk. Lunch hour on Saturday in this part of town is pretty much slow so no one’s really around. You start walking, no particular destination in mind.

--

Bucky is with Steve and Peggy at their favorite brunch place waiting for their orders when Jerk Mustache walks in. What’s he doing here? And without Y/N?

Bucky observes how the idiot’s face lights up as soon as he sees someone on the other side of the restaurant. He follows his gaze. I’ll be damned. “Pegs, I think the person meeting your friend just walked in.”

Peggy looks behind her shoulder to where Bucky is looking. “Bloody hell. That’s Howard Stark!” Peggy turns to them, eyes round with surprise.

“You know him?” Steve asks. “We met him earlier at Bucky’s.”

“You did?!” Peggy sits back, stunned. “Of course I know him. He’s an up-and-coming big name in tech.” She turns to Bucky. “What was he doing at your place?”

“He’s my neighbor’s boyfriend.” He says begrudgingly.

“What?!” She sneaks a glance back at Howard, who’s now seated across from her friend Angie. “You’re neighbors with Y/N Y/L/N?!”

Bucky gives him a quizzical look. “You know her, too?”

They are interrupted by the serving of their orders.

“Thank you, miss,” Steve says politely while Peggy and Bucky mumble their thanks.

Bucky’s about to dig in when Y/N strides in. “Speak of the angels in the heavens,” he mutters.

Peggy looks again. “Angie’s meeting her too? Wow. No wonder she’s traded me.”

“Aw, honey. You have us.” Steve croons.

“I know, love.” Peggy smiles. “But this is so cool! She’s cool. She’s kind of a new novelist and she’s a freelance photojournalist for the National Geographic.”

The look of joy on Peggy’s face tugs at Steve’s heart. “You’re adorable when you’re gushing,” he says, looking lovingly at Peggy and she touches his cheek.

Bucky narrows his eyes at the two as he takes a bite of his omelette, then turns to Peggy. “Why do you know so much about them anyway, Pegs?”

Peggy rolls her eyes at him. “Just like a good detective: research, of course.”

“By research, you mean Instagram and Twitter.” Bucky challenges.

“They have proven to be very effective windows to a person’s soul--or at least personality.” Peggy counters. “Case in point, Howard Stark and Y/N Y/L/N. They’ve never, as in NEVER, admitted that they are a couple, but Howard’s social media has been buzzing the past month with photos and even videos of them together.”

Bucky’s about to say something more when he spots Y/N get up from her seat and leave. Even from afar, he observes tension between Peggy’s friend and Jerk Mustache. Why is she leaving?

Y/N is already out the door when he makes his decision. Food barely touched, he gets up.

“Where are you going, pal?” Steve says with a mouthful of hash browns.

“I’m gonna say hi to Y/N.” Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer and makes his way to the exit.

--

It’s high noon but the sun is hiding under giant fluffy clouds. I haven’t even had the chance to have that brunch. You decide to walk back to your apartment. Today was a stupid idea.

Tracing the path you and Howard walked, you’re grateful for the alone time. Until you hear your name.

“Y/N!”

You look back and spot James--Bucky, you correct. “Bucky?” You resist the urge to say Buck-eee. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles a shy smile and you notice his blue eyes once more. It’s even clearer in the daylight.

“I was having brunch when I saw you.” He runs a hand at the back of his hair.

“Wait, you were at the L&L?”

“Yeah.” Another blinding smile. You decide the encounter from earlier is now irrelevant.

“Oh! Sorry I didn’t see you. Where’s Steve?”

“He’s still in there with Peggy--his fiancee.”

“Oh,” you say before you even think about it. You try to hide the surprise in your tone. I really thought he and Steve were a couple. The way Bucky looked at him… God, he’s Bucky’s unrequited love! Shit. You’re overthinking this. Say something. “I didn’t know L&L was also your brunch place.”

He chuckles. “It’s actually Pegs’ and Stevie’s. They just let me tag along most of the time.”

“That’s really sweet. Anyway, guess I’m gonna go ahead.”

“Where are you going? You didn’t even eat,” Bucky says. Before you could even process what he said, he adds, “Sorry. I was kinda watching you.”

This makes you smile. “Howard’s with a friend. I figured I wasn’t really meant to be in that conversation. So I’m headed home.”

“Can I go with you?”

“You’re having brunch.”

“Nah. I’ll just text them I’m going home.” You start to protest, but he cuts you off. “Please? I wanna hang out with you.”

You chuckle. “You’ll really ditch your friends for someone you barely met?”

He squints. “To be fair, she’s my gorgeous neighbor who I think needs a friend right now.”

There’s a warmth that spreads in your chest and that feeling from earlier when he checked up on you returns. If he wasn’t gay, you’d think he was a magnificent flirt. But he had you at gorgeous neighbor.

“Well you deliver a strong argument, sir.” You say faking a British accent--which makes him laugh--then motion for him to walk with you.

The walk to your building was short and mostly spent in comfortable silence. When you reach your floor, he speaks.

“You know I really meant it when I said I wanted to hang out with you. Would it be okay if I stayed at your place for a while?”

“Of course.” You beam at him. You would really appreciate company right now. You gesture for Bucky to enter your apartment first before following suit. He pauses at the counter top near the entrance then takes it all in.

You notice him smile as if pleased with something but it’s only for a moment. “You got a nice place here,” he says.

“Thanks.”

He hovers near the kitchen. “You know I could cook you something, if you’d like?”

This makes you smile yet again. “You don’t have to do that. I owe you for bringing you out of brunch.”

“Not at all! I insisted I come with you, and now I insist on cooking.” His blue eyes burns brighter. “What do you say?”

I’m guessing no one says ‘no’ to you with that face of yours, Bucky. “Sure, why not? I’d appreciate it.”

The joy in his face is ridiculously infectious and you mirror his silly smile. After giving him the freedom to make use of your kitchen and whatever ingredients you have, you sit in your mini work space and make use of the time to check your emails.

There’s one from Dottie, your publicist, asking you to send your latest draft for the chapter you’re working on, one from Ana of Nat Geo Your Shot--really a thread by now--on the exchange of ideas for your potential next assignment, and a bunch of other emails from websites you’re subscribed with. What catches your attention, though, is an email from a gaming website sent barely 10 minutes ago with the simple subject: Request for Comment.

Hi, Ms. Y/L/N,

I’m Johann Fenn, staff writer for Gamer Technotes. I’m reaching out to ask for any comment you may have to shed light on your relationship with Howard Stark. As you are well aware, Mr. Stark and his recent contributions both to tech development and gaming has been gaining quite the buzz. Searches for Mr. Stark, his work, and any details related to him has been giving us a chunk of web traffic lately.

If you may refer to the attached photos, we’d love to hear your thoughts.

Thank you.

You click on the first photo attached and its of Howard and Angie at the L&L. Howard’s face is clear in the shot, albeit a side view one, whilst Angie’s a little blurry. You grit your teeth. Didn’t know gaming websites did gossip now. There’s another attachment and you’re shocked to see that it’s one of you and Bucky on the sidewalk--clearly when you left L&L to walk back home.

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

Startled, Bucky calls out from the kitchen. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah.” You call back, beginning to dial Howard. When he picks up, you tell him about the email. After asking you to forward it to him and muttering some profanities, he says goodbye.

It’s only this time you notice the smell of pancakes. You walk to the kitchen. If Bucky looks good standing and doing nothing, he’s beautiful looking all domesticated.

“Bucky,” you start, still not quite amenable to using the name. “Wow, that smells good.”

He grins and winks at you. Damn that blue eyes and brown hair and the stubble on that jaw. “Thank you.” Then, “What’s wrong?”

You hesitate. It’s not that big a deal, maybe, but he may not like this. “I think I kinda had something to do with violating your privacy.”

His brow furrows. He stacks the last of the pancakes to a plate before making use of another pan to start with the bacon. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been photographed together. When we were at the sidewalk outside of L&L.”

This makes him more confused. “Photographed? By who?”

“I don’t know, I guess some guy working for this gaming website. They’re all kinda interested in Howard’s buzz and I got dragged into it.”

His eyes widen. “Shit. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

His reaction confuses you. “Why? I’m the one saying sorry.”

“I mean, I’m here right now, intruding. Now there’s a photo out there of us that your boyfriend will certainly not appreciate.” He’s placed the last of the bacon strips on the pan, empty plate on his left hand.

“What?” You chuckle. “First of all, Howard’s not my boyfriend.”

It’s too late when you both realize what’s happening; the plate breaks into pieces as it hits the kitchen floor. A faint and brief scream escapes your throat as you jump away from the impact.

“Oh my God, Bucky, are you alright?”

He’s just standing there, but he’s looking at you. “He’s not?”

“He’s not what?”

“Je--Howard. Not your boyfriend?”

Your heartbeat slows down. “Nope. Are you okay?” You ask again, then grab the dustpan from the wall and begin sweeping the pieces.

“Shit!” he turns to the bacon again and flip them over. He steals a glance from you, then turn back to frying.

“Bucky? None of the broken pieces hit you, right?”

“Uhh, no. I don’t think so. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know why the plate slipped.” He lowers the heat on the induction and turns to you. “Let me get that.” You hand him the broom and the dustpan, then you switch places.

“No worries. You sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yeah.” But he seems a little distracted.

You take out the bacon from the pan then bring it along with the plate of pancakes to the table. You set it up along with the mugs just as James is throwing the shards in the trash.

“Hey Bucky, what’s your poison?”

“Coffee’s good.”

You serve each of you a brew and take your seat. He sits across from you.

You smell the food. “Hmmm. Thanks for cooking.”

Finally, he seems to snap out of his daze and his pretty smile returns. “You’re welcome.”

Aside from your occasional comments on his cooking, you eat in silence.

When you’re done, he offers to do the dishes but you refuse and instead shoo him to the living area.

--

Y/N is doing the dishes as Bucky sits in the living room. She told him to go watch something but he’s so distracted to even pick up the remote.

He’s not her boyfriend. I’m alone with a woman who I’m insanely attracted to and she’s single. Damn. Bucky runs a hand through his hair. Wait. Don’t be an idiot. Howard’s not her boyfriend, but how sure are you that she has no boyfriend at all?

He inwardly groans. Somehow that’s even worse. You’re overthinking this, Barnes. It’s just a crush. Don’t be so dramatic. Just a crush, just a crush, just a crush…

“That’s quite a good show,” Bucky hears Y/N say as she approaches.

I love you. Shit! What? 

He sees her looking at the TV, still turned off.

“Oh. I was waiting for you.” He offers, just as she sits down beside him on the couch. She smiles at that.

“What did you have in mind? Movie? A show?” She asks.

“I was thinking you should decide.”

“Well my choices aren’t really, as my best friend would say, pro-people,” Y/N air quotes the last words.

This piques Bucky’s curiosity. “Really? Try me.”

“For one, I really like watching Air Crash Investigation.” Y/N says.

“Are you kidding? I love that show!” Bucky can’t help feeling ecstatic. He really did. There’s a gleam in Y/N’s eyes.

“Right?!” Y/N exclaims. “I mean it’s a series, but you can definitely watch it out of order. Every episode could count as one documentary.”

“Yes!” Bucky agrees, maybe a little too enthusiastically, because those are his exact thoughts. Steve and Peggy never understood his fascination for it. But this girl. Damn.

“Wow. You’re officially the coolest friend I have right now.” Y/N states, giddy.

Bucky’s heart soars. Take that, Howard Stark.

“Okay, I know there’s a lot, but what is your ultimate favorite episode?” Y/N asks.

“Wow, that’s tough.” Bucky furrows his brows, thinking. “I haven’t seen the latest season but probably my all time fave is the episode with BA Flight 5390.”

Y/N nods. “Explosive decompression, pilot sucked out of the cockpit, underrated first officer who saved everyone?”

“One of the best. Alistair Atchison and the cabin crew on that one--real MVPs in aviation history,” Bucky recalls.

“So you’re a sucker for happy endings?”

“Who isn’t?” Bucky narrows his eyes. “What’s your fave ep?”

Y/N sighs. “Okay, don’t judge me. I also haven’t seen the latest season but my all time fave is the one with the Tenerife disaster.”

Bucky nods. “A big one. Actually the biggest one. KLM versus Pan-Am at the Los Rodeos Airport. Dubbed crash of the century.”

“Yes,” Y/N agrees, a sad smile on her face.

“Okay. Totally not judging you, but why that one?” The longer the conversation goes, the more Bucky wants to know. He’s never been this curious about someone’s interests, someone’s thoughts.

“I don’t wanna be weird about it but… that episode always serves as a reminder to me that when things are meant to go wrong, they will go wrong no matter what people’s actions are.”

Bucky agrees, but he doesn’t say anything. To him, the moment is so surreal. Here’s a person he barely knows--he has no idea what her birthday is, no clue to other details about her--but talking to Y/N like this feels like a glimpse into her soul. It feels so… intimate.

She gives him a scrutinizing look for his silence, then smiles. “Did I totally weird you out?”

“What? No! I get what you mean. I was just… reflecting.”

That makes her giggle. “So what do you say? Marathon season 19 with me?”

It’s a simple question, but Bucky feels his heart flutter. “I would love to.”

“Well then better get comfy, mister.” Y/N says. “You’re stuck here for a looong time.”

They both devour the episodes. Although looking straight ahead at the screen, Bucky is hyper aware of Y/N beside him. She’s so close that a slight movement and they’ll be elbow to elbow. He thinks he can smell her hair--Is that coconut and strawberries? Her whole presence penetrates his senses that he knows at some point in episode 6, Y/N falls asleep.

He looks at her and sure enough, her eyes are closed and her head is tilted sideways away from him. Bucky picks up the remote and shuts the TV off.

He notices that it’s dark outside. A quick look at his phone confirms it’s already past 7. Caught unsure of what to do, Bucky remains where he is. Before falling asleep, Y/N turned on the lamp beside the couch. Now, Bucky watches as the light casts a glow over her face.

God, she’s beautiful, he thinks to himself. He’s left there staring. Okay Barnes, one minute longer and you’re a creep. He forces himself to look away. He stands and checks out what he assumes to be Y/N’s room. The door is ajar so he lets himself in. He’s bothered by how wrong it feels--get out, this is her space--so he just grabs a pillow and a mini blanket draped in a chair before going back out.

Bucky walks back to her and places the pillow on the edge of the couch. He sets her head there and adjusts her body slightly so she is lying down. He places the mini blanket from her waist down. He’s kneeling by the couch to adjust her hands when her phone rings at the coffee table.

When Bucky sees ‘Howard Stark’ flash on the screen along with the guy’s photo, he feels a mixture of irritation and satisfaction. Irritation for the fact that he’s calling Y/N--illogical, really, but by this time he dislikes the guy by default--and satisfaction that he’s plain Howard Stark in her phone, not any endearment, not even a nickname.

For a brief moment he tries to convince himself that it’s not his place, but the temptation is too strong so he answers it.

“Y/N’s phone.”

“Who is this?” Howard demands.

“Bucky Barnes.”

“Bucky Barnes.” Howard repeats, his voice wary.

“Yes. Y/N’s neighbor.”

“I know who you are. Where is she?”

“She’s sleeping.”

Bucky hears an exasperated sigh on the other end. “Can you wake her up for me?”

“Afraid not.”

“What do you mean ‘afraid not’? How do I know she’s okay?” There’s now irritation in his voice.

“She’s okay.”

“You’ve got to be kidding! Come on man, put her on the phone.”

“I already told you. She’s sleeping.”

“What are you doing at her place anyway?”

“Hanging out.”

Howard scoffs. “Okay, buddy,” dragging the word with spite. “I’ll see that for myself.” Then the line goes dead.

[shadowynnn]

fire and ice |part three|

far cry 5

fire and ice synopsis: After a drunk driver kills both of your parents in an accident when you were sixteen, you eagerly leave Hope County for college a few years later to escape the demons that haunt you there. After six years away, a strange dream prompts you to return home where you find things not quite how you left them. With a mysterious, and possibly dangerous, cult on the rise, you attempt to juggle finally coming to peace with your parents’ deaths and the cult’s increasing interest in you. (Begins a few months before the events in the game take place.)

part two synopsis: Your first encounter with Jacob Seed.

pairing: Jacob Seed, Joseph Seed, John Seed x Reader (though mainly Jacob Seed x Reader in this part)

words: 1731

You were utterly exhausted from last night’s party at the Spread Eagle Bar. While you had been ecstatic to see and catch up with everyone again, it had left you drained and yearning for time alone.

You knew that the mature and responsible thing to do was start the long process of fixing up your parent’s old cabin and moving in your belongings before you started up your job at St. Francis the following week and really lost all willpower to do just that, but you had always been a procrastinator and knew that the work could stand to wait another day. So instead of getting to work at settling back into Hope County, you had opted for a nice, long hike. It had been too long, after all, and you were eager to spend the day wandering through the Whitetails.

You had planned on allowing yourself to sleep in, letting your body have one good night of sleep before you got to work on the cabin and then eventually began your shifts at the hospital, but you awoke early all the same, breathless and heart racing from the dream you had been having. What the dream had been, however, you couldn’t seem to hold onto as time slowly ticked by. The more you tried to remember, the hazier everything became.

Figuring it was better to leave it forgotten with the way it left you shaky and anxious, you put the dream to rest and climbed out of bed. There was no way you would be able to get back to sleep now, so you decided you might as well begin the day bright and early.

It took you longer than normal to get ready as your old bedroom in your uncle’s house was crammed with boxes and you hadn’t done a very thorough job of organizing things when you had packed everything up. After a few minutes of haphazardly rummaging through the boxes, you pulled an army green utility jacket on over your t-shirt and shorts before slipping on a pair of your old hiking boots. You then quickly tugged your tangled curls into a messy ponytail before pulling on your backpack guitar case and strapping your trusted Glock into the holster on your waist-you could never be too safe hiking by yourself in the valley-and were out the door just as the sun was peeking its way over the horizon.

You would be lying if you said the case didn’t grow uncomfortable and cumbersome to carry throughout the day, but finding some quiet, isolated place up in the mountains and playing to your heart’s content was one of your favorite things to do. It calmed you; kept you grounded when nothing else could and your fingers were just itching to play.

You didn’t have a destination in mind, but rather, let your feet take you away when you arrived at the start of some of the trails. It was a beautiful day, the morning sky dusted with just a few wispy clouds and the temperature just cool enough to make you appreciate bringing a jacket for the first few hours. Fall was fast approaching, but the afternoons were still pleasantly warm.

You softly hummed along as the hours passed by, your feet traveling up and down the worn trails. You had yet to see another soul, just a few deer and other harmless wildlife scattered among the trees. 

Eventually, your legs began to grow tired and you could feel your breath starting to catch. Looking at your watch, you saw it was nearly noon and decided now was probably a good time to sit down to rest, eat, and perhaps play for a little bit.

You walked just a bit longer as you looked for an appropriate place to stop, finally finding an open place to your left which opened up to part of the valley below. After settling down on one of the larger rocks, you ate the meal you had packed for yourself before getting your guitar and beginning to tune it.

Ever since you were born, you had had a knack for all things musical. You were quick to pick up instruments and had an ear for being able to play things you heard. You could read music, your mother had taught you at a young age, but you often didn’t need the sheets. You found it easier and more enjoyable to just hash out the notes yourself and see where they took you.

Your fingers strummed idly across the strings, playing a few chords of this and that as you tried to find something which resonated with you at the moment. After a few minutes of indecisiveness, you found yourself strumming the beginning chords to an Axel Flovent song, your voice softly humming along before they turned to form the actual words.

“Your dreams are incredibly loud tonight; you're creating forest fires. You can't even change your sight; it's stuck in you like --”

You stopped abruptly when you heard rustling behind you. Startled, your guitar dropped from your hands which immediately moved to hover over the Glock at your waist while you spun around to see what had made the sound.

You didn’t know quite what you were expecting, some sort of animal most likely, so you were shocked to see it was a man standing a few yards back, staring intently at you.

“Holy shit, man!” You breathed out when you felt your heart begin to slow once again. “Don’t you know better than to sneak up on someone out here?” 

Your common sense told you to keep your guard up, but you were just so relieved it was just another person and not a wolf, mountain lion, or god forbid, a bear, that you found it hard to still be wary of him. With a dead whitetail strapped around his shoulders, you reckoned he was just a hunter who had wandered by when he heard your singing.

“I’m sorry, that was kind of rude of me.” You blushed when you saw his eyes glance at the hand still hovering over your gun. You quickly dropped it against your better judgment as you began to ramble from your still buzzing nerves. “It’s just, you scared me, is all...Which I guess, now that I think about it, there probably wasn’t a very good way to announce yourself without scaring the shit out of me, so I guess we’re just...equally...to...blame...” Your words trailed off at the end as you realized you had begun to ramble. You felt another light blush creep up your cheeks at your actions. The man probably thought you were an idiot.

Deciding it was better to keep your mouth shut and not embarrass yourself any further, you took a few seconds to truly take him in. He was older than you, you thought by at least fifteen years, though it was a bit hard to be sure. His hair, a few shades lighter than your own was cut short on the side but kept longer on the top and the lower half of his face was covered in a shaggy beard just as red as the rest of his hair. His jacket appeared to be military and you could just make out the glint of dog tags around his neck confirming your suspicions. You weren’t familiar enough with the military, however, to figure out what branch he had served in.

You were unnerved by the silence which followed your previous ramblings. He had yet to say a word since you had acknowledged his presence behind you. This silence along with the intensity of his scrutiny over you caused you to shift uncomfortably in your seat.

The time it took him to reply, though only a few seconds, seemed much longer due to the way he kept looking at you. It wasn’t in a lustful manner, but rather a careful, almost wary one. Nonetheless, it made you uncomfortable and you were about to open your mouth to break the silence. With what, you had no idea, but any rambling on your part seemed better than this stifling silence.

“Don’t you know it’s not smart for you to be out here by yourself?” 

Before you could break the silence yourself, he finally spoke, his words a mocking reference to one of your earlier statements. 

Despite the blush his words brought to your cheeks, you narrowed your eyes at the statement. “Puh-lease, I’m just as safe out here as you are. I could shoot you square between your eyes if I wanted to.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his obvious condescension from your appearance. Sure, you probably didn’t look like it, but you had been taught how to shoot a gun since you were ten and you had become a pretty straight shot after the years. “You’re just lucky I’m not a trigger happy kind of gal.” He was also lucky that it had been a few years since you had practiced, though he didn’t need to know that.

The man smirked at your statement, resituating the deer hanging off his shoulders as he gave you another one over. He took another bout of silence as his eyes took you in once more, almost as if he was seeing you in another light.

“Well aren’t you a little spitfire.”

“Wow, real original.” You narrowed your eyes at him again. “It’s not like I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Not surprised,” he snorted.

“Don’t you have something better to do than annoy girls just trying to mind their own damn business?” You retorted, before picking up your fallen guitar and checking for any damage. It wasn’t so much the words which bothered you, you could go back and forth all day with talk like this. You just really didn’t like the way he kept looking at you, with a gaze and intent virtually impossible to read.

“You’re right.” His head tilted to the side, taking one last long look at you before beginning to walk down the trail, seemingly losing complete interest in you. “See you around, Spitfire.” You heard him shoot back at you before he disappeared around a clump of trees and out of sight.

You turned back to your guitar, brushing off the dirt still clinging to it and trying, yet failing to hold back the blush creeping up your face.

[deafeninglovebasement]

Microsoft Office For Mac Sp3

After releasing their Office 365 subscription service and Office 2013 earlier today, Microsoft has released a critical update for Office for Mac 2011. The Office for Mac Service Pack 3 (14.3) update contains a number of bug fixes, and adds support for Microsoft’s new Office 365 subscription program.

From the release notes:

Start quickly with the most recent versions of Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Outlook, OneNote and OneDrive —combining the familiarity of Office and the unique Mac features you love. Work online or offline, on your own or with others in real time—whatever works for what you’re doing.

Office XP Service Pack 3 (SP3) provides the latest updates to Microsoft Office XP. SP3 contains significant security enhancements, in addition to stability and performance improvements.

Microsoft has released an update for Microsoft Office for Mac 2011. In addition to the application improvements mentioned in this article, Office for Mac 2011 is now available as a subscription offering. For more information about subscription, see the Frequently Asked Questions.

Save On It provides Microsoft software at the cheapest price - complete with 24/7 customer support and advice. We provide you the software you need at the lowest prices, guaranteed!

This update provides the latest fixes to Office for Mac 2011. These include the following:

Meeting invitation times are displayed inaccurately in Outlook for Mac Fixes an issue that causes meeting invitation times from non-Exchange calendar servers to be off by one hour during certain times of the year.

Slides in collapsed sections cover other slides in Slide Sorter view in PowerPoint for Mac Fixes a display issue that involves collapsed sections in Slide Sorter view.

Hash tags (#) in hyperlinks aren’t saved correctly in PowerPoint for Mac Fixes an issue in which hyperlinks that contain hash tags (#) aren’t saved correctly.

Crash occurs when you use Paste Special with a partial table in PowerPoint for Mac Fixes an issue that causes PowerPoint to crash when you use the Paste Special option to copy and paste part of a table.

RTF text that’s saved in PowerPoint for Windows can’t be pasted into PowerPoint for Mac Fixes an issue in which RTF text that’s saved in PowerPoint for Windows can’t be copied and pasted into PowerPoint for Mac.

Microsoft Office 2011 for Mac Service Pack 3 is available now through Microsoft AutoUpdate, as well as direct download from Microsoft’s website.

Make your Mac invincible

Get Setapp, a toolkit with fixes for all Mac problems

Since its initial release nearly 30 years ago, Microsoft Office has become one of the world’s most popular productivity suites. With programs like Word and Excel for Mac, it’s no wonder that the MS Office suite is a must-download on any computer.

Microsoft Office for Mac 2019 includes the most modern versions of Word, Excel, Powerpoint, Outlook, and OneNote. These apps are all available for download at the Mac App Store. Alternatively, with Office 365 for Mac, you can work online or offline and collaborate with others in real time, which is especially useful for any kind of team work.

Get a perfect alternative for MS tools on Mac

Try Setapp, an all-in-one toolkit that covers apps substituting Microsoft’s Visio, Project, and Publisher. All in a single spot on your Mac.

If you’ve been asking yourself questions like “what is Office 365 for Mac” and “how much is Microsoft Office?” — the guide below will help dispel your confusion. Besides, do you know how you can download Microsoft Office?

How To Download And Install MS Office For Mac

As mentioned above, Microsoft Office suite and all of its apps — Word, Excel, Powerpoint, Outlook, OneNote, and OneDrive — are now available at the Mac App Store. This makes it easier than ever to get the most current versions of MS Office for Mac (note that you’ll need an Office 365 subscription to use these apps). There is also a Microsoft Office trial available that allows you to use Office 365 free for one month.

To buy Microsoft Office outright, visit office.com. At the Office home page, select Install Office. Then follow the instructions for the installer file that has been downloaded to your computer.

System requirements to download Microsoft Office

Before downloading Office for Mac, make sure you have the fitting system requirements that allow for the best experience with Microsoft apps. For example, Microsoft Office suite always supports the latest three versions of macOS. Currently, it’s 10.14, 10.13, and 10.12.

As new versions of macOS are released, Microsoft shifts its support to the newest ones. While your Office apps might still work on older unsupported versions of macOS, you won’t be able to get security or feature updates.

To run Microsoft Office at the moment, you’ll need macOS 10.12 (Sierra), 4 GB RAM and 10 GB of available disk space.

The difference between Office 2019 and Office 365 for Mac

You can still buy Microsoft Office without getting into a subscription. The downside is not getting continuous feature updates, which will in turn be bundled altogether in the following year’s release.

Office 365, on the other hand, is based purely on a subscription model and powered by Microsoft’s cloud service. It frequently receives updates and provides full access to the whole suite of services.

How much is Microsoft Office?

As MS Office for Mac is available in two versions — a one-time payment and subscription — there are two prices. If you want to buy a license for Office Home and Student 2019 for Mac, which includes Word, Excel, PowerPoint, and OneNote, it will cost you $149.99. If you’d like to use Microsoft Office Outlook, you’ll need to purchase the Office Home and Business 2019 for Mac at $249.99.

For the subscription model, Microsoft Office 365 for Mac, you pay a month-by-month or yearly fee. And as new versions are introduced, you automatically get them as part of your subscription. Office 365 for Home costs $99.99 a year or $9.99 a month.

What about MS Office vs. iWork

Apple’s free iWork has a great price advantage over the MS Office suite, but is it better than all the Microsoft’s popular productivity apps?

iWork includes Keynote, Pages, and Numbers, but is generally best suited for smaller businesses or home use. Additionally, if you already use Microsoft Office extensively at home or work, being able to switch between Macs and PCs gives Microsoft Office Suite a big plus.

Microsoft Office is known for having a slight edge for ease-of-use and is packed with more features. The latest version of the suite also looks brand new compared to iWork’s currently outdated version. As Microsoft Office continues to learn the macOS, it continues to grow.

MS Office Touch Bar features

Trackpad and Touch Bar, unique to MacBooks, have made great new features available on Office for Mac.

In Microsoft Word for Mac, you can use the Touch Bar to insert hyperlinks, comments, or photos right in the text editor. It’s especially great when you’re working in Word Focus Mode without access to the controls on the screen.

In Excel for Mac, using the equal sign on your keyboard will launch most recently used commands on the Touch Bar. Then you can select a range of commands or perform specific actions.

In Microsoft Office Outlook, Touch Bar makes recent files appear when you’re composing an email. From here, you can attach relevant files with a single tap. In Outlook’s Today view, you can use the Touch Bar to get a quick look at your daily calendar events or launch a Skype call.

During slideshow presentations in Powerpoint, you can use the Touch Bar to view specific controls. The function integrates slide thumbnails and includes a timer to make moving through your presentation on time a snap.

Great Substitutes For MS Project, Visio, And Publisher

If you’ve used MS Office tools on Windows before, you may have noticed that some of them aren’t available on Mac, specifically Microsoft Project, Visio, and Publisher.

The good news is you can easily substitute lacking MS Office apps with Setapp.

Take care of your publishing needs

With Microsoft Publisher for Mac currently unavailable, you need an app that is easy to use but, at the same time, delivers professional results when you’re looking to put together greeting cards or self-publish a magazine. Enter Swift Publisher.

Swift Publisher has a robust set of design tools that allow you to apply gradients, draw freehand shapes, and control different aspects of your design layout at once. The app also features an extensive graphic library with over 2,000 pieces of clip art and 100 image masks.

Make publishing easy with Swift Publisher’s support for exports to a variety of digital formats, including social media. You’ll find that quickly Microsoft Publisher for Mac will become a thing of the past.

The best alternative to Microsoft Visio

With the need to create flowcharts, diagrams, and organizational tables for your projects, you may miss Microsoft Visio. Fear not. You can easily brainstorm and create long-term plans with iThoughtsX instead. Even better, you’ll never lose important information with its built-in cloud integration.

iThoughtsX lets you visualize an idea, track to-dos along with deadlines, and check on the team's progress. You don’t have to interrupt your workflow at all, as this app supports multiple file formats that can store your ideas in .rtf, .txt, Microsoft Word (.docx), .csv, MindGenius (.mgmx), MindNode (.mindnode), .opml, and more.

Plan projects with Merlin Project Express

Merlin Project Express will help you plan both home and professional projects. It’s a great solution for managing budgets and resources available for any endeavour.

Just like Microsoft Project for Mac, Merlin Project Express lets you create tasks, manage dependencies, and track progress with ease. You can also come up with project templates to streamline your workflow, set daily goals, and visualize the timeline. Consolidate all information in one place with project info at hand by attaching emails, images, costs, and notes.

Best of all, three substitute apps: Swift Publisher, iThoughtsX, and Merlin Project Express are available on Setapp, a platform of more than 150 Mac apps and utilities that you can use at home and work to improve all aspects of interacting with your Mac. Get yourself a perfect complement to your Microsoft Office suite purchase and try Setapp free for seven days. Working smart doesn’t have to feel like a trade-off.

Microsoft Office For Mac Sp3 32-bit

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Microsoft Office For Mac Sp3 64-bit

Meantime, prepare for all the awesome things you can do with Setapp.

Microsoft Office For Mac Sp3 Iso

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Windows Vista Sp3 Download Microsoft

[speedyengineerfury]

Noted App For Mac

Bored of note taking in traditional way , so here you can take a look at the latest note -taking method . Here we list out the Best Note taking apps for PC and Smartphone .

At work, you will surely need to note down bullet points or you will need to note important tasks and other activities to be done. Since these days everyone uses computers and android phones, use of pen and paper has been reduced. So, in these computers and smart phones, where can you note down your important work easily? I am sure that you all might have come across various note-taking apps for computers and smart phones. These apps make it easier for you to remember your tasks and responsibilities.

Contents

Take notes wherever you go. When you add your internet accounts to Notes, you can keep your notes with you no matter which device you’re using—so you can save that dream destination on your Mac, then have it handy on your iPad when you’re with your friends. How to add or remove notes accounts. If you want a powerful yet tastefully designed note-taking app, look no further than Bear. Bear is a beautiful app, featuring gorgeous typography and themes. But underneath this are powerful features. Like many writing apps, it supports the lightweight markup language called Markdown.

Take note of everything with Samsung Notes. Write, draw, and highlight in a variety of styles and colors with the S Pen. Add photos and voice memos, and save your notes with searchable tags. And whenever inspiration strikes, simply pop out the S Pen to quickly jot down notes on your locked screen. The simplest way to keep notes All your notes, synced on all your devices. Get Simplenote now for iOS, Android, Mac, Windows, Linux, or in your browser.

1 Best Note taking apps of the year

Best Note taking apps of the year

You will never miss out to complete any work if you have noted all the points in your phone or computer. Now let us see what all note-taking apps are available these days to use in computers and smart phones. The note-taking apps mentioned below are some of the best cross-platform apps that make your work quick.

Now of you ever want to note down anything you don’t have to look for pen and paper use these Best Note-taking apps for Android , iPhone and PC to take easy notes .

Best Note taking apps for Windows

If you want to make quick notes in your windows system you can now do it with the comfort of windows note taking apps .

Quip

Cortana

Simple Note

Microsoft OneNote

Evernote

Sticky Notes

Notepad

Scrble

Read Also : Best free office software for Computer & Smartphone

Best Note taking apps for Mac

Below given is the list of best note taking apps for Mac .

Evernote

Microsoft OneNote

Simple Note

Bear

Google Keep

Zoho

Read Also : Best VPN For the Future

Best Note taking apps for iPhone / iPad – iOS note taking apps

Like the above seen note taking softwares for windows and Mac , here is the list of note taking apps for iOS users .

Apple Notes

Bear

Simple Note

Best Note taking apps for Android

ColorNote

OneNote

Google Keep

EverNote

SimpleNote

LectureNotes

Omni Notes

Finally given above is the exclusive list of note taking apps for Android users .

Read Also : Enable or Disable Superfetch for Windows

Best Sticky Notes App For Mac

Best Note taking apps for Windows , Mac , Android & iPhone / iPad

1) OneNote

OneNote is one of the best note taking apps with a number of features and majority of them are for free. Since OneNote comes from Microsoft, it integrates with Office tools like Ms Word, Excel etc. Thus, the tool becomes more powerful for you to use. In this note-taking app, you can write, type and draw images related to the notes in your own way.

Another advantage of using OneNote is that, you can easily capture an image to add in the notes. You will not have to crop the image and waste your valuable time. OneNote will automatically crop the image you have selected to fit in the notes. Moreover, you can easily take the notes and refer for your future use. OneNote is compatible with both computers and smartphones.

2) EverNote

This is the next note-taking app for your computers and android phones which is very powerful. EverNote can organize all your notes very efficientlyand it has a cloud storage space of 60MB to store your data online. Like OneNote App, you can add images to this note as well. But an extra feature of attaching the pages of a website is also available with EverNote App.

This note-taking app is perfect for students since it can store any kind of data with any size and content. EverNote App is free for anyone to use but it only has a few features and it only provides a few of them to the user.

Read Also : Must Have Smartwatch apps for Android and Apple watches

3) WorkFlowy

Workflowy note-taking app works fully offline and it is also fast. It also gives an instant access to the notes you have saved without searching for it from a number o tabs in your browser. This app is very simple and it only has a very minimal interface. When you are creating a note and if you want to highlight or mark any points that are really important, you can do so with the help of hash tags.

You can zoom in or zoom out the notes to read and also navigating this app is very easy. You can just use the mouse pointer to zoom in and zoom out the notes you have added. With this Workflowy App, you can share the notes with others at your office. You also have the option of hiding the notes and add to archive with just one click.

4) Google Keep

With features like location reminder, alerts on pre-select times, Google Keep is our next choice of note-taking app which is hooked up to Google services. This app is compatible with IOS, Web, Android, Windows and Mac and has card based notes. Like Evernote and Onenote, you can add images along with the notes you jot down.

Notes App For Microsoft Surface Pro

Google Keep App can transcribe the notes you type or write. It has the feature to record even your handwriting. The notes you type will be recorded in the form of messages with its memo feature. You can also synchronize your notes from one device to another with the help of nifty OCR in Google Keep. Apart from these features, you get access to colour codes and attributes to make your notes look unique from the rest.

Read Also : Google Datally App to Control Mobile Data & WiFi Finder

5) Standard Notes

You can access this note-taking app online with widget support and it comes with 100% privacy and AES – 265 encryption. The best highlight of using Standard Note is that you can access the notes you have created 5 years back. Isn’t that great? You can recheck all the important notes again if you require. Standard Notes app is the only one note-taking app which has an end to end privacy. Thus, this app sounds suitable for both office and personal work. Standard notes App is compatible with iOS, Android, Windows, Web and Mac.

To make your notes look more attractive, you get access to different themes that are changeable and it also allows you to add power extensions. You will never have to worry about losing any notes you have made in Standard Notes. This app is encryption protected with a secret key and no one can decrypt the notes. Only thing you have to remember always is the secret key. Without this, no one can retrieve the data.

6) Dropbox Paper

This app is a product of Dropbox in which you can work with your team. Dropbox Paper is another note-taking app that supports themes and is integrated to Dropbox. It also offers great collaboration tools. Usually, everyone uses Dropbox to save files in the cloud storage. The main advantage of using Dropbox Paper is, it gives a flexible workspace for the user to make notes easily.

Samsung Notes App For Mac

This app is very simple since it has a very minimal design aids. You can type your data or copy and paste the link of YouTube or you can even tweet using this Dropbox Paper note-taking app. If you are working in Dropbox as a team or with any of your team member, you can easily make notes with them, share comments and even embed images. For any kind of creative work, this app is one of the best choices. This note-taking app called Dropbox Paper is free to use if you are an account holder of Dropbox.

Music Notes App For Mac

All these above mentioned note-taking apps are compatible with both computers and smart phones. You can use it from anywhere you want. Anybody can use these apps in their computers or in android phones. Read about each app and learn the advantages and disadvantages and choose the best app that suits your need. So, do not wait. Make use of these amazing note-taking apps to make your work easier and hassle-free.

[salted-barbed-wire]

Kiss of Death

A 13 Nights Of Halloween Story: Night Two

Prompt #31 Spooky- Kiss of Death Featuring- Alexa Bliss (guest starring Kenny Omega) Requested by @satansstrawberry Warnings: Ummm.. a little bit of a threatening Kenny Omega, mention of death.. maybe a few curse words here and there... poorly written mermaid legends because I had to rush through this so it wasn’t 15 pages long on Word. Word Count: 3500+ (another long one)

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY RANIE!! Since today is your birthday, your request is up next. I hope I lived up to the dream I had. I think this would’ve been waaaayyyy better as a book. Honestly, I could really drag this story out but it got really long oh my gosh. ANYWAY; also, since this is my present to you, your favorite over dramatic, bixsexual, anime villain is a character. Hope everyone enjoys!

Tag List:   @straight-outta-the-asylum @i-kneel-for-king-loki@geekoftv @ladym0xley @satansstrawberry @shieldlovereve @iwannadiehere@vampstampbby @shironichi @blackwidow2721 @the-shy-type@mangagirl232 @wrestingtrash @akihikothekitsune @kanupps06@kingslayers-angel @isawthesights @castielscamander @shieldsandbulletsandflips @extremelylost @thirstiswet @inamoxbrose24@reigns420 @bebbyt @nickie-amore

The smell of salt and water carried on the breeze, filling my nose and blowing through my hair. The sound of the engine motor and the waves crashing was all around us as we plowed through the open sea. I smiled, watching the curly headed man steering the speed boat, his well-tanned and toned body gleaming in the sun. He took a turn too fast and I squealed, laughing as I heard him mutter something that sounded like curses from his mouth.

“Ken,” I shouted over the noise, “Slow down, please? We don’t have to go too far from the shore.”

The motor quieted as he glided to a stop, “What if I just want to steal you away?” He teased me, “I could drive off with you in this boat to the next town over?”

I rolled my eyes. Kenny Omega and I had been flirting around with the idea of becoming a couple for months. He was a gorgeous choice for a boyfriend; strong, sharp wit, hard body. But there was always something that held us back from becoming official. Sometimes I wasn’t too keen on the idea of dating someone who’d be gone for months and weeks on end. Other times, Kenny got scared of commitment. The current issue was his ex, who had just come back from an injury. The company seemed to have a story line plotted out for them, and even though Kenny assured me they weren’t getting back together, I wasn’t willing to risk making the mistake of trusting him too much.

So here we were together, on vacation on the beach as just simple fuck buddies; still no strings attached. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was the one that wanted more for our relationship and I had been trying to keep him at bay until he gave me what I wanted. It was hard to keep my hands off him when he walked around shirtless all day.

“The next town over?” My voice was still at a shout as he turned the key in the ignition and climbed back to where I was seated. “To do what?”

Kenny reached under the bench and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and snaked his arm around my shoulders. “To get some alone time, away from the boys,” he said. “Maybe get a room where they aren’t going to hear what I want to do to you.” His eye brows wiggled after the last few words, an ornery smirk played at his lips.

“I’ll pass,” I reflected his confident look. “This girl needs to get some sun, soak up the vitamin D, drink that whole bottle of fireball.” I snatched the bottle from his hands and popped the top off. Kenny watched silently as my lips wrapped around the opening and I tipped the end up to allow the caramel colored liquid down my throat.

“That mouth,” I heard him mutter.

We floated along in the tiny boat, letting the waves rock around us. The bottle of whiskey was nearly half gone when I heard a splash from the empty waters behind me. My head spun around to see what had caused the noise; but the ocean was still. The sun glared against my shaded eyes and I tried to squint to see if I could see anything out of the ordinary. Maybe it was the whiskey, but I could’ve sworn I saw a large pink tail fin rise gently out of the water and then sink slowly back below the surface.

I jumped nearly ten feet in the air as I felt his hand slid along my bare thigh. I swung my attention back to the man across from me, only to be met with those beautiful baby blues staring at me intensely.

“What?” I looked at him over the top of my glasses. Kenny didn’t stop, instead his hand wandered north along my leg, making its way towards my bikini bottoms. I felt my shoulders slump and my heart rate quicken a little. “Ken,” I took hold of his long fingers, “Can’t it wait until tonight? I really just want to enjoy the air.”

Kenny’s curls bounced as he shook his head, “You’ve said that every day this week.” He pulled back his hand and crossed it in front of his chest out of frustration. “Then at night when we finally get back to our rooms, you don’t answer the door, you won’t answer your phone, you leave me hanging out in the hallway, hoping you’ll eventually let me in.” I swallowed, knowing I had been kind of avoiding fucking around with Kenny on this trip. It hadn’t by any means been easy but I was trying to get something through to him. “Are you just using me as a sugar daddy now, (Y/N)?” He asked throwing his arms into the question.

“Oh my God!” My jaw dropped at him even having the thought, “Kenny! No! I am not some little trick.” I paused and watched as his arms folded again, his right eyebrow cocked up, waiting for an answer. I wasn’t ready to give him one. “Can we not talk about this right now?” I took another sip of whiskey before he yanked the bottle away from me.

“No, we’re going to talk about this... right now!” Kenny’s voice began to raise and in the distance, I could see dark, grey clouds forming behind his head. “I didn’t bring you here to play on my friends’ boat and drink my whiskey.” The wind seemed to pick up and waves formed around us, Kenny took no notice.

“Then what did you bring me here for, Ken? Am I just some play thing to you?” I snapped back, I stood and walked to the front of the boat. “Take me back to the shore, there’s a storm coming.”

“No, we need to hash this out, away from distractions. There’s no storm in the forecast. A little wind won’t hurt you,” he scoffed.

Suddenly a gust pushed me a step back and Kenny was blinded by his curls, a strike of lightening flashed behind his head and thunder rumbled through our bones.

“Ken, please, take me back,” I begged.

Kenny for once agreed with me and gave me a nod before walking up to the wheel to turn the boat on. He stumbled as the waves rocked us around. We could hear the Bucks yelling for us from the shore, trying to get us to come back. He took the key and attempted to turn the ignition over. Click, click, click. “Fuck,” Kenny whispered under his breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“No fuel,” his finger tapped on the fuel gage above the wheel. “I could’ve sworn I filled up all the way this morning.”

“Now what?” I stressed and grabbed his shoulder for comfort.

Kenny turned to face me. He only locked eyes with me briefly before looking at something behind me, his cobalt blue eyes widening with fear. “Hold on!” He shouted and pulled me down against the deck before I tidal wave washed over both of us.

I did my best to hold my breath as the water rushed over me, roaring passed my ears. We both came up, sputtering for air. I could hear Kenny coughing, trying to breathe. My own lungs heaved and I looked up behind him to see another giant wave looming over us. “Ken!” I yelled, unable to make anything else come out.

Kenny looked at me, then followed my eyes. We both gasped as the sea came crashing down, washing us from the boat. My body went limp against the pressure, allowing myself to fall beneath the surface. I blinked through the water and forced my head to seek out the sky somewhere above me. I broke passed the barrier of the water, sucking in the air as it hit my face. I looked around for Kenny.

“Kenny!” I called out for him. There was no answer, but I could’ve sworn I heard a mischievous feminine giggle echo behind me. I turned quickly, just in time to see another wave crash down on me, slamming my head against a piece of debris. Everything went black, and I felt myself sink down into the abyss.

----

Soft lips, the smell of salt water, the taste of summer rain.

My eyes fluttered open from the sensory overload. I wasn’t sure where it was coming from until I regained my focus. The most beautiful face I had ever seen came into view. Her skin was soft and clear, not a single blemish or imperfection to be found. Her eyes were ice blue, cold as a winter storm, yet glowed with curiosity and eagerness. Her long blonde hair tickled my face as she looked down at me. My gaze shifted to those soft pink lips that were curved up into a smile.

“Are you okay, honey?” She asked me. My heart thudded against my chest at the sound of her voice. It was musical. “That was quite a bump you took.”

“Wh- Where am I?” I asked her.

“Safe.” Was all she said.

I sat up slightly, feeling my head spin slightly at the sudden movement.

“Take it easy, pretty girl,” she hummed. “You hit your head, just lay there for a minute while I work on your wounds.”

I did as I was told, letting her hands touch me gently, wrapping something around my arm that felt sore. I knew there was probably a cut or two on my body and it would a miracle if I didn’t have anything broken. “How bad is it?” I asked her.

“Well, I drug you out just before you washed up against those rocks, you might have actually gotten hurt beyond my repair if you had hit them.” She never looked up from her work, “I’m Alexa, by the way, what’s your name?”

“(Y/N).”

“Pretty,” her smile stunned me again; it was breath taking.

“What are you wrapping my arm with?”

“Seaweed and a balm I’ve made for my own injuries before.” She let go of my arm, “Wanna see now?”

I nodded and she carefully helped me upright. A gasped escaped my lungs, not from the sight of my injuries, or the way the seaweed looked covering my skin, but Alexa had something that wasn’t normal. “You have a tail!” I exclaimed out loud, immediately embarrassed that she heard the words come from my mouth.

Alexa giggled, “Well, duh. I’m merfolk. Where did you think I came from, the sky?”

“I don’t know, you’re pretty enough to be an angel,” I muttered then clapped my hand over my mouth.

Now it was time for Alexa to blush. She leaned in, incredibly close to me, her lips just inches from mine. “You think I’m pretty?” She asked.

I swallowed and nodded. Alexa drug her lower lip between her teeth, “You’re a different kind of human female, most of them don’t think I’m pretty.” She frowned and furrowed her brows, “Only men think I’m pretty.”

“Why?” I asked.

“It’s a curse. It has to do with how men objectify women, my mother explained it to me once, but I don’t tend to listen to the lessons we are taught.” She sighed and placed her elbows on her tail and propped her head onto her palm. “Lessons are boring though.”

My gaze wandered her tail. It was bright pink, matching the tips of her blonde hair. Her pink fin was the shape of a ‘V’ and was thick like a fish’s tail. “Your tail is so pretty.” I told her, “Can I touch it?” She smiled and nodded gleefully. Reaching out, I felt the scales along the palm of my hand, they were rough, yet slick from the water.

Alexa’s soft, small hand reached against my thigh, “I like your legs. I used to think I wanted legs too.” My skin tingled against her touch, “but I like swimming. Can’t swim very well with legs, can you?” We locked eyes and my heart stopped, Alexa must have noticed. “You really think I’m pretty?”

I nodded, “You’re gorgeous.”

Her smile widened, “Can I ask you something then?” Again, all I could do was nod. “Do you find yourself attracted to other females of your species?”

My face went red and I turned away, “Um, well, yeah. I actually like both boys and girls.”

The gears were turning in Alexa’s head, “That actually explains a lot.” She leaned in close to me and sniffed the air, “You smell delicious, has anyone ever told you that?”

“(Y/N)!” A familiar voice forced me from the thought of kissing her.

“Kenny?” I muttered in confusion, looking around for him.

“What’s a Kenny?” Alexa said looking towards the direction his voice was coming from.

I stood, carefully, pushing passed the dizzy spell. “Kenny?” I called out to him.

There was a sound of feet pounding in the sand and Omega came flying around the corner. His curly, two-toned head was still soaked from water, and the swim trunks he had worn was torn in different places. His blue eyes found mine.

“(Y/N)! Oh my god! You’re okay.” He ran towards me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

The impact of him rocked me, “Ouch.” I muttered.

“Is this your mate?” Alexa asked. She had slipped back into the water, concealing her lower half.

Kenny finally took notice to her. I saw him swallow, obviously taking note of her beauty. “Not quite,” He smiled at her, “Did you save my friend?”

Alexa furrowed her brow, but nodded, “I did.” Looking at me, “I am confused, the male embraces you like a lover but he calls you friend?”

I rolled my eyes and shrugged, “It’s complicated.”

Now it was Kenny’s turn to roll his eyes, “Shower sex is complicated. We are not complicated.” He gestured between us, then moved closer to Alexa, “Name’s Omega, Kenny Omega.” He extend his hand.

“Nice to meet you Omega Kenny Omega.” She flashed him a smile, “Do you think I’m pretty too?”

My heart broke a little, feeling the jealousy boil inside of me. I was starting to feel like a third wheel.

Kenny’s boyish grin turned devilish, “It’s just Kenny and I do think you’re gorgeous. What’s a girl like you doing out here all her lonesome?”

“I was hungry, I came looking for something to eat, then I found you two on the boat.” Alexa explained.

“You saw us on the boat?” I asked, my mind flashed back to the pink fin I had seen earlier that had disappeared in the ocean before Kenny started yelling at me.

She nodded, “I did, you were both arguing.”

“That was just a misunderstanding,” Kenny interjected. “We’re all friends here, right (Y/N)?” He gave me a look.

“Sure, just friends.” I growled back at him, seething. How dare he try and force himself on me and give me shit for not surrendering to him, then try and pick this poor creature up!

“You’ve upset her,” Alexa’s voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked to see her staring at me, she looked as though she was reading my mind. “I am, I can communicate through thoughts.”

“Whoa!” I gasped, my head spinning from the intrusion.

“Sorry, it’s probably a little much to begin with, but I’m trying to understand you and this man.” Her silky voice echoed in my mind, “Come here.” She told me aloud, holding her hand out for me.

I rose, unsure as to why I listened and walked towards the water. My legs stopped short of the water line and I gently laid my hand in hers. “What’s going on?” Kenny asked us. We ignored him as Alexa closed her eyes, I watched scenes play in front of my eyes. They were memories of Kenny and I, our friendship, the two of us making love, arguing over Kota, arguing over where we stood with each other, arguing over love making; I felt the anger fresh from the flood of previous encounters. Things had definitely been getting worse between Omega and I, and having Alexa sort through it gave me a new perspective on everything.

There was an animalistic noise that came from Alexa’s throat, something I had never heard before and she released my hand. “You are not a very nice man.” She looked at Kenny, “You toy with her emotions, use her for sex, that’s not right.” Her blue eyes were completely iced over. “Now I don’t feel bad for what comes next.”

Her lips turned up into a smile, parting a little to reveal her teeth that had morphed into what resembled the jaws of a shark. Kenny’s eyes widened in terror and I heard a scream that sounded like mine but I was too numb to know if the sound had actually come from my own throat. Alexa’s skin darkened from its fair color to a greyish and sickly pigment. I stumbled backwards, falling onto my butt, completely terrified of the scene before me.

She lunged out and took hold of Kenny’s locks with her hands that had turned into claws with black nails. They pulled his face to focus on her, and I watched as her lips met his. Kenny’s panic went to a look of pure bliss and he kissed her back. He leaned into her and she began to fall back into the water, guiding him to her.

“Kenny! NO!” I screamed and scrambled to the water’s edge.

I was too late and was forced to watch Kenny fall into the water. Another scream came from my lungs, calling his name as I tried to reach for his foot. They disappeared below the surface of the water, the darkness engulfed their bodies until I could no longer see their shapes in front of me. I tossed away all my sanity and jumped in after them into the deep.

Ignoring the cold, salty water around me, I pushed myself as far as I could. My feet kicking, arms pushing through the nothingness as I continued my decent. I could feel my lungs strain, knowing my limit was reached and I needed to turn to go back up for air.

A hand took hold of my wrist before I could make another move, forcing me back up to the surface. A pink tail flashed in my vision, and I began to struggle to get away from my rescuer. My mouth opened to scream but it was muffled by the sea water that surrounded me.

When we broke the surface, Alexa hauled me onto the beach I had just watched Kenny get dragged from. I sputtered and coughed from the sudden rush of air hitting my lungs.

“Why?” I whispered in a cry.

“He hurt you.” Alexa’s voice was gentle as she spoke. “So I hurt him.”

“You didn’t just hurt him, did you?” I turned to see her still in the water, her features had returned to normal.

“Do you know why men think I’m pretty? I’m not actually. I’m assuming before I pulled him in, you saw my true face.”

I nodded, “What are you?”

“I told you I’m a mermaid; a siren.” Her tail flicked out of the water as if to remind me. “Men think we are beautiful, and we feed on their souls.”

My heart stopped completely, “Their souls? You eat them?” Her smile was the only response I got. I swallowed hard, nervous to ask anything else. “How?”

She chewed her lip, “I can’t describe it.” Alexa leaned in close, “Kenny was a little different from how I normally do it. I took him more out of rage than out of hunger.”

“What’s the difference? He’s still dead.” My words dripped with anger and sarcasm. Yet, something inside of me was glad he was gone.

Alexa seemed to hesitate. Her tongue ran across her lip quickly, “I could show you.”

“Show me? How?”

In that instant, we locked eyes. My lungs stopped working by the hypnotizing look she gave me. “Come,” her voice commanded me in the most melodic tone. I swore there was the sound of an orchestra moving around the sea as I rose and moved towards her. Each step was against my will until I reached the water line.

“Jump in with me, (Y/N).”

The way she said my name had my heart fluttering in my chest. I took a hesitant step towards the water. Don’t do it, a voice whispered in my head. I wanted to listen to it, but she was humming the most beautiful tune and it called to me. My foot reached out, my weight shifted, and I fell into the drink.

I could feel something inside of me screaming in terror, knowing I was walking right into whatever trap she had ready for me. My body fell and I watched as my breath escaped in bubbles from my lips. Pain filled my lungs but my arms would not work, I couldn’t swim back for air. A second time I was left drowning in the dark ocean, the light above my head slowly fading.

Light, gentle hands touched my face, the humming in my ears got louder, and Alexa came back into my view. She held me still, stopping me from falling deeper. Shock spread through me as her eyes turned from blue to grey. I felt her lips press mine. It took me a minute to truly accept her kisses, but with every little flick of her tongue, a rush of air hit my lungs. It encouraged me to lock into an embrace with her, allowing her arms to wrap around my shoulders. Accepting her gave me freedom to touch her, hold her hips just above where the scales started on her tail. Her body was soft and pressed against me.

Alexa pulled back and looked at me, I pushed myself towards her, need the air. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

Her words stopped my heart. I watched as her mouth opened and I felt something pour from my very essence into her. There was a flash of white light and she pulled me close. Her mouth had transformed back into the terrifying features I had seen before when she drug Kenny to the depths. I tried to gasp but my throat choked on the salt water.

“WHY?” I pleaded in my thoughts, struggling to keep myself conscious.

Alexa’s true form had completely taken over her. Her hands were webbed, she had gills on her neck. Her hair was still it’s platinum color but the tips had turned from pink to grey, matching her skin and tail. “I really could’ve liked you, maybe become your friend. I love your smile, your legs, and I would love to play with you on the surface, maybe teach you how to swim.” Her voice resounded through my head. “But the one lesson I did pay attention to was this; never play with your food.”

[scintillating-galaxias]

Opposites, Chapter 2

im not sure if i should tag this too? since the first part has everything tagged?… maybe its fine idk but anyways!! chapter two of my grimmons fic, i hope you guys enjoy!!

(read it here on ao3)

1 / 2

A few days pass. Simmons is being weird again. He glances to Grif more often than not when he’s talking, says certain words with more emphasis, and again with the physical contact! He swears he’s been touched on the shoulder, or his back, or his arm more this past week than his entire lifetime. He thought Simmons wasn’t a huge fan of the whole touching thing!

He glances slyly at Simmons, who’s reassembling a rifle. His tongue peeks out from between his lips like it always does when he’s focused. When was the last time the guy has a hug? Not a ‘thank God you’re alive’ embrace of pure fear and desperation, just a simple, totally platonic, hug?

When was the last time Grif had had one?

The first one that comes to mind is Kai holding onto him as tight as her small arms could when he was leaving. But that was over a decade ago. It couldn’t have been that long since then. Could it? No. Maybe? No, no, that couldn’t be right, he knows that’s not right—

“Penny for your thoughts?” Simmons’ voice breaks him out of his musings.

“Make it a dollar and you have a deal.” Simmons rolls his eyes and fishes out a piece of chewing gum from somewhere in his armor.

“A piece of really old gum for your thoughts?” he rephrases in a monotone. Grif takes the gum and unwraps it thoughtfully.

“Not much. Just thinkin’ about Kai.” Grif pops the gum in his mouth and tilts his head a little. “We should go get her soon. No, scratch that, we are gonna go get her soon. And then we’re going right the fuck home. No more of this totally bullshit war, or wars, or whatever the hell is going on anymore.”

Simmons is quiet for a moment. “Is that—” he coughs and clears throat. He tries again. “That’s what you really want?”

“Hell yeah! Why the fuck wouldn’t I want to go home? That’s way better than what we’ve been doing, which is basically travel through a void for a bit, find some big rock with issues, move on after we fix said issue, find a cooler, bigger rock with more problems. Except for this time, it has snow! Wow! Oh, and we might die again. Whoop-dee-fuckin’-do.”

The conversation lulls a bit. Grif carefully retightens a screw in his own gun. Not too tight, the firing mechanisms might go wrong, not too loose, the recoil might be off in the field. At least, that’s what he thinks it is. He really doesn’t pay attention to these things. If it works, it works, and if it blows up in his face, well, he’s wearing armor that probably costs enough to bring a small country out of debt. It should work out fine.

“Just you guys?”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Simmons says quickly. He turns back to his gun. Grif looks at him for a moment longer before he shrugs and goes back to putting his own weapon together.

During lunch, Tucker approaches him. He sits down across from him and stares until Grif looks up. He has his hands laced and he leans forward on the table like some business man trying to make a deal. Grif cocks an eyebrow. Tucker clears his throat.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he tells Grif.

“Hello to you too, asshole.”

“Dude! Just fucking— It’s not hard to figure out!” Tucker throws arms up, then drags a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Christ, it’s embarrassing watching you two moon over each other! Like, holy hell, you aren’t high school teenagers! You could get shot tomorrow, and then we have to deal with Simmons crying over your dumb ass! Get your shit together!”

“Yeah well, maybe,” Grif says irritatedly, “you wouldn’t be so 'embarrassed’ about us if you guys fucked off and let us deal with it ourselves.” And he goes back to ignoring him. Man, these hash browns were just outstanding today. They actually had a little flavor to them.

“You aren’t going deal with it though! You’re just gonna keep walking away like you do with everything else!”

“What do you think of the broccoli today? I personally think a little more butter could have been used. It’s a little dry.”

“Oh my God,” Tucker groans, dragging out each word. He abruptly stands up and leaves, apparently too done with Grif to survive this conversation.

Good. He needed a nap anyway.

In the safety of his room, he thinks. He ponders and wonders and dwells on every little thing that’s happened lately.

First, his own depressive thought session that was basically just him pining. Which was just pathetic. He didn’t want to think about that.

Second, there was Simmons getting all touchy and smiley and making Grif feel warm all the time. Stupid Simmons being cute. Fuck that guy.

Then it was the Doorway Incident he’s shoved into the dark corner of his brain. Then there were those godforsaken notes that he should really take care of soon. One thing Tucker had said stuck with him; he might not have tomorrow to do this. He didn’t have the luxury to have all the time in the world to wait until the perfect moment like some people did.

Grif props his head up on one hand. The other toys with the drawstring of his sweatpants. Listen to Caboose and opposites were his hints. Opposites and spies? Clothes? Spy clothes, no, codes. Opposites and codes.

Grif gasps and nearly falls out of his bed in his haste to turn the light on. He trips ungracefully over a stray gauntlet, but he still reaches the wall and slaps it until he manages to find the switch.

He pats himself down before lunging for his armor. Fuck, where did they go! What was he wearing last? His hoodie? Grif leans down and swipes it up, rips the notes out of the front pocket, and throws himself at his desk.

“No way,” he mutters. “There’s just— No.”

You were. You were and… I am? That’s the first thing Grif can think of, so he reaches over to his datapad and writes it down. Were 'were’ and 'am’ opposites? Well, if they weren’t, they were for the time being.

Grif shakes his head. He knows how he works. He just had to get it out, then he could go and fix it later. Not like Simmons, who edited as he went along. No, now wasn’t the time to think about Simmons. Except, technically, he was right now just by dealing with these notes. If he was indirectly thinking about Simmons, would it count?

He furiously shakes his head again. “Focus,” he mutters. He thumbs the pen imprint on the back of one of the notes.

You were hopefully out hate without i.

“I am… Hopelessly? Hopeless? That’s dark, Simmons,” Grif muses. “Okay, Grif. Start talking.” He sighs. Stupid brain going off on unimportant topics. Grif clears his throat and taps the papers into a straight line.

“So,” he begins. “'I am hopelessly, in… Love? Love. With. You.’ Okay.” He picks up his datapad and writes it down. Well. He’s got the first part figured out. He could go ahead and change—

Grif’s thoughts catch up with his eyes. His brain screeches to a halt. Then it trips and falls down the stairs, where it lays there staring at a cloudless sky in shock. The low roar of blood rushing to his ears fills the silence.

He reads the words again. And again. And a third time.

“No way.” Grif leans back in his chair and runs his hands through his hair. “I— I got something wrong, didn’t I? It’s probably— no.” He makes a weird noise that could count as a giggle, but it’s so strained it sounds hysterical. “Haha! Real funny, Simmons! Good one!” he calls out. “You— You got me, you can stop… Hiding…”

Simmons does not materialize from the walls, or burst out of his tiny closet, or appear in the doorway, roaring with laughter and clutching his stomach.

Grif reads the words again.

“What. What?!” He stands up. Paces around the room. Falls back onto his bed. Gets up, reads the sentence again.

The universe hasn’t exactly been kind to him in the past. What made it change its mind now? He has to be dreaming. He’s had scary realistic dreams before. This wouldn’t be anything new. Grif pinches himself on the wrist, hard. Nothing happens except now his wrist stings a bit. He tries his ribs and his cheeks too, but there is still no sudden reveal of a dark closet or the inside of his helmet.

Grif makes a very embarrassing, very high-pitched sound. His face splits into a wide smile that reduces his vision to slits.

“'I am hopelessly in love with you.’ Oh, my God. Oh. My. God!” The feeling in his chest is too much for him, so he stands up, walks in quick, tight circles for a moment. He barely registers his steps because he swears he’s floating, drifting just above the clouds like he does in a dream.

There is an odd feeling he’s forgetting to do something. Nothing with the notes themselves. Simmons. He had to find Simmons.

Grif stands up and charges out of his room so fast he skids into the opposite wall. There, he takes a moment to collect himself.

What does he even say?  'I’m in love with you too’? No, that’s stupid. Maybe go a little slower, maybe hug him, or kiss his face, or something. No, what if Simmons wanted to go even slower than that? Could Grif hold his hand while watching a movie? That’s so cliché and corny, Simmons would love it, but what if he didn’t? Fuck! He doesn’t know what to do besides panic!

Before he sends himself into a downward spiral, he pushes off of the wall and bursts into Simmons’ room. Simmons himself is sitting on the edge of on his bed, capping and uncapping his calligraphy pen. He stands up quickly as Grif braces himself against the doorway

“What’s wro—”

“Did you mean it?” Simmons blinks.

“What do you mean?”

“The notes, are they real? Did you mean it, Simmons?” He hates the vulnerability is his voice, but he has to make sure, he has to be positive this wasn’t a sick, cruel joke. “Do you actually…?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I do, dumbass!” Grif’s mind goes blank for a second. His lips move on their own accord.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes?” He doesn’t look as embarrassed as Grif initially thought he would be.

“You’re serious.” Grif can feel the grin coming back. Something in his chest swells.

“Yes, Grif, oh my God!” And there it is, that red flush on his cheeks. It makes his freckles stand out more, his green eye just a little bit brighter. It’s a nice look on him in Grif’s professional opinion.

“Ho-ly shit.” Grif crosses the room in quick, short strides, and holds Simmons’ face in his hands. The pen drops to the floor. “You’re real. This is—” Grif breaks off in nervous laughter. The butterflies in his stomach feel more like a school of fish by the way it flips when Simmons smiles. It’s a little squashed by the way Grif is cupping his cheeks, but it’s a nice smile nonetheless. “Wow.”

For a moment, they just stare at each other in a mix of awe and shock. Simmons suddenly starts chuckling. His head falls onto Grif’s shoulder and wraps his long arms around his torso. “You’re really fucking thick headed sometimes, you know that?”

“Excuse me, sometimes? You should know me better by now. It’s all or nothing.” Grif’s brows furrow. “Hey, that reminds me, why did you go straight for… You know.” The words get stuck, even though he doesn’t reason for them to be anymore. “I— I’m in love with you? And not like, 'Hey, wanna go out?’ Not that I’m complaining, but still.” It felt so strange but so natural to say it out loud. To Simmons. Not a mirror, or a rock, or his hand. To Simmons.

“I— Hmm.” Simmons’ mouth twists in thought. Grif waits impatiently, but he can’t push anything right now, so he stays quiet. “I think… I was scared we wouldn’t have time for that stuff.”

“Dude, we spend so much time just sitting here. It’s always the Blues getting into shit.”

“Shut up, Grif, I’m trying to get this right.” He takes Grif’s hand in his robotic one, idly rubbing his thumb on Grif’s palm. “Anyways. We're— We’re always getting shot at, getting injured, and I was terrified that something would happen to you before I got the chance to say anything. One of us could die tomorrow and I didn’t want to live with that. Or die with that, I don’t know.

And it’s been about six years since I felt— Felt… Fuck it, liked you, and that’s a lot of time to have a 'crush’ on someone and I decided that it wasn’t the correct term anymore. And then more time passed, and uh. I realized about two years ago that I didn’t 'like’ you anymore. Not like that, I like you! A lot! I just. Yeah,” he finishes lamely. He bites his lip a bit as he looks apprehensively at Grif.

Grif knows his mouth has fallen open again. It takes him a few tries to get his words out. “I… I didn’t know you, um. You know.”

“Yeah, I know you didn’t know.”

Grif rolls his eyes. “Dude, you’re still really fucking cheesy for passing on that cornball message through cryptic notes.”

“Oh, like you could do any better!” Simmons drops his hand and pushes at him, but there’s no real force behind it. “You just keep referring to this as 'that’!”

“Is that a challenge?” Grifs grin gets bigger. “Hey. Hey, Simmons. Guess what.”

Simmons sighs. “What?”

“I love you.” Simmons instantly turn bright red and starts babbling nonsense. Grif takes that as a sign to keep going. “In fact, I am super in love with you. You—”

“Grif!” Simmons groans and he keeps slapping his hands at Grif’s chest, but that pleased smile betrays him. “Grif, stop it, oh my God—”

“You are my anchor to this wretched life. My cinnamon bun. My starlight on the darkest nights.”

Simmons seems torn between laughing and being annoyed. He ends up making a weird beeping sound that Grif will have to make fun of later because watching Simmons get all flustered was way more entertaining. “And since I love you so much—”

“Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear it!”

Grif holds him at arm’s length and puts on his best puppy face, with a pouty lip and everything. “Aw, but Simmons, my dearest, I was going to ask if you wanted to see a movie later! But I’ll have to find something else now.” He puts a wrist to his forehead. “Tragedy! My hard work and great efforts for the love of my life, ruined by the very same person! Oh, the irony!”

Simmons eyes him suspiciously. Then his brow shoots up to his hairline. “You were being serious?”

Grif drops his wrist back to his side. “Nah, not really. I don’t even know if this place even has a decent sized wall to project something on.”

“Oh,” Simmons says quietly. His shoulders slump a bit.

Grif frowns. “Wait, about the movie thing or the other thing, or the other other thing?”

“Er… All of them?” Simmons says uncertainly.

“Oh.” Oh. “Yeah, I’m, um, down for. That. I guess. I mean, sure, yeah, let’s do that. The movie. With just us.” There’s a pregnant pause. “And the other thing, yeah, kind of serious about that too.”

Simmons looks like he’s trying not to look too amused, but the relief is evident. “And that whole 'super in love’ spiel?”

“That too.”

That’s when Simmons leans down and kisses him. Not so hard it makes him dizzy, or so soft he’s chasing for more. It’s more careful if anything. As if to say, is this okay? And it’s so much more than just 'okay’, Grif can’t think of a word for it. A lump sticks in his throat, stealing away his next breath. He gasps lightly, and Simmons breaks away.

“So,” Simmons says slowly. His smile turns sheepish. “Uh. Sorry. I just— Yeah.”

“You should do that again,” Grif says quietly. They just stand there for a moment, waiting for the other to make the first move. Within a few seconds, Simmons huffs and pulls him in again.

There’s more confident this time, but a better-suited word would be clumsy. Their noses bump, neither of them knows how to shape their mouth, or where to put their lips. Their teeth graze each other enough to make Simmons hum, and Grif doesn’t know where to put his hands, so he just drops them to Simmons’ waist.

He never would trade it for anything else.

All rational thoughts are wiped away when Simmons’ hands move to the back of Grif’s neck, fingers idly wrapping themselves around stray strands of hair. He feels Simmons tilt his head a little bit, fitting their lips together better. He makes a pleased noise, and Simmons smiles against his mouth. His neck hurts a little from craning his head up, but Simmons was now pressing his lips all over Grif’s face, on his nose, just between his eyes, the corner of his mouth, on his mouth, again, and again, and again, so he can ignore it.

It fills his body with so many emotions at once because this, this right here is all he’s wanted. To be sure of something for once in his life, and to know he can have this. He can have Simmons here with him, and he can hold him when he’s upset instead of awkward shoulder patting, he can laugh for hours with him and finally look up at him with a smile without it becoming weird, he can kiss him to mess with him instead of making backhanded comments.

Certainty. That’s the thing he was missing this whole time.

“Y'know,” Simmons murmurs against his cheek. “I don’t see your hair down that much.”

Grif jerks back and sputters an incredulous laugh. “Really? We just started figuring out, like, half a lifetime’s worth of emotional constipation, and you’re thinking about my hair?”

“It’s nice!” Simmons says defensively. He finally steps away from Grif, arms crossed. Grif pretends to not notice how much that bothers him. “It’s… Nice. Also, please don’t talk about constipation when we’re making out.”

“'It’s nice.’ Thanks.” Grif rolls his eyes and goes to pull out the tie. His scalp was starting ache a bit anyway. Simmons’ fingers twitch slightly as he shakes it out and pushes it back from his face. Grif makes a quiet note of that for… Later.

Simmons lets out a heavy breath. “We’re still going to have to figure this… This,” he gestures vaguely, “out eventually.”

“Ugh. Do we have to?” Grif whines. “I think it’s fine right now. We can— We can come back to that later. You know what we’re going to have to do now? Take a kick-ass nap. Or make out more, can we do that?”

“I didn’t say now, dipshit. It’s just that years of experience plus Doc and Donut has told me that poor communication isn’t healthy.”

“Healthy,” Grif repeats. “Yeah, 'cause we’re just the best at being healthy.” They keep flat faces for a beat before they burst out laughing. Grif doubles over, barely registering Simmons using him as a support. He can hear the rare, tiny snorts that he knows Simmons hates, but right now it’s the most precious sound in the world.

“We are so shit at this,” Simmons manages before breaking down again. Grif wheezes in response.

“At least we’re consistent!” It takes another minute for them to calm down. Grif wipes a tear from his eye. “No, but seriously—” He breaks out into another fit of giggles. “Fuck, we’re gonna go and do the nap thing now. No,” Grif presses a finger to Simmons’ lips when he starts to protest. “They overwork us anyways. We can take breaks.”

“They don’t overwork you,” Simmons mumbles around his finger. “And I still have forms—”

“That other people can fill out themselves.” Grif grabs both of Simmons’ hands and tugs him towards his bed. He goes with barely any resistance, and they curl up on top of the covers. So much for needing to work.

It takes a few minutes of repositioning and a lot of repetition of the phrase, 'Move, jackass,’ but they manage. Simmons ends up with his chin resting on top of Grif’s head. His arm loops over Grif’s back to mess with the back of his hair again. He’s tucked against Simmons’ chest. There, he can hear the whirrs and clicks of all of the complicated parts that make him up. It’s strangely comforting.

Exhaustion hits him all at once. He hadn’t realized how late it was when he came in here. He inhales deeply into Simmons’ shirt. It still smells like vanilla for somehow. The scent reminds Grif of something, but he can’t remember what.

Simmons sighs, breath hot against his head. Giddiness pulses through Grif’s body again. In the span of Thank you.“

"For what?”

“For— You know what, forget it. I want to sleep.” Grif shrugs and scoots a bit closer.

“I’ll take that action.” Grif can feel Simmons chuckles bubble from his chest to his throat. He’s washed over again with sheer joy, and he shivers a bit. Simmons apparently takes this as him being cold because he pulls him into his chest a little more.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Something itches in the back of Grif’s mind.

“Guess you were right,” he murmurs.

“Wha’? 'bout wha’?” Simmons answers sleepily.

“Opposites do attract.”

Simmons makes a confused noise.“What’re you even sayin’?”

“Nothin’.” A minute of silence passes. “G'night, Simmons.”

“Goodnigh’, Grif.”

[terabitweb]

Original Post from Rapid7 Author: Teresa Copple

Have you ever noticed how things that sound really difficult can sometimes be surprisingly simple to do? I am an avid knitter, but I didn’t try knitting a cabled sweater for years because cables look hard. A few months ago, when attempting the feat, it was a pleasant surprise to find that knitting cables looks a lot harder than it actually is!

The same applies to using the InsightIDR REST API. In this blog, I am going to explain how to automate updating threat feeds in InsightIDR by using the REST API. As you will see, it is probably a lot easier than you expected it to be.

In addition to all of the built-in detections in InsightIDR, you can add in your own list of Indicators of Compromise (IoC). You can get more information about this feature here, including the many reasons why you might want to add in your own threat feeds.

It is easy to add in bad IPs, URLs, domains, and hashes into InsightIDR a few at a time, but who wants to update a threat list manually, right? As IoCs often change frequently, you need a way to automate uploading IoCs into your cloud SIEM.

You don’t need any programming experience to use the API

While in later blogs we’ll go over how to write your own scripts for the Rapid7 REST API, this blog focuses on getting started by running some existing scripts that will allow you to upload to your private threats in InsightIDR.

Check out the video below and follow along:

Step 1: Add a Threat in InsightIDR

Let’s get our threat key, which we will need for the API. Every threat has its own threat key, which is used to upload the indicators into that threat.

Start by creating a private threat in InsightIDR, which you will find under Settings -> Alert Settings -> Community Threats. Select Add Threat, and fill out the fields for your threat feed. You must have at least one indicator in order to save the threat, so I have entered in a harmless IP address in as threat. This IP address will be removed from the threat later on automatically with our script, so it is not important what you use for this first indicator.

Step 2: Get your Threat API Key

After saving the threat, select View for the same threat so that you can get the threat key. Navigate to the Threat Key dropdown and fill out the form displayed with these selections: CSV, Replace existing indicators, and File Upload.

Step 3: Get your Platform API Key

Now that we have the Threat API Key, we need to get a Platform API Key. You need both to upload indicators. Note that you need to be an Insight Platform admin to do this.

Read about this key and the REST API [here](https://help.rapid7.com/insightidr/en-us/api/v1/docs.html#]. To get your platform API Key, follow the instructions by logging in to https://insight.rapid7.com, clicking the gear icon in the top right, then selecting API Keys. Once here, click the button to generate an organization key to use.

Step 4: Update an Existing Script

While there are loads of threat feeds floating around, the three scripts used in this blog focus on downloading indicators from the popular open-source website, https://abuse.ch. Later blogs will discuss editing the scripts to work with other sites.

Before continuing, you may wish to take a few minutes to browse to https://abuse.ch and read about the Feodo Tracker, Ransomware Tracker, and URL Haus projects.

Pick one of the three scripts below, copy it, and paste it into a text editor. Add in your Threat and Platform keys and save the file with a “ps1” (ps1 for PowerShell) extension. Finally, run it as a PowerShell script from any system that supports PowerShell. I recommend running the script to verify it works before proceeding to the next step.

Step 5: Schedule the script(s) to run

Now that you have a working script, you will likely want to schedule it to run on a regular cadence. The frequency for updating the indicators depends on what they are, but you would typically update them at least once a day.

If your InsightIDR collector is running a Windows operating system, you can use it as the host for these scripts. However, you can use any Windows-based workstation or server that you want. To automatically update a threat in InsightIDR, use a scheduling tool like Task Scheduler to run the script on a schedule.

Maybe you’re not yet ready to knit up a cabled sweater, but I do hope that you agree with me that uploading IOCs into InsightIDR isn’t difficult to do with our REST API.

Start a free trial of InsightIDR today to leverage these capabilities

Get Started

Script 1: Feodo Tracker

############################################################################ # Copyright (c) Rapid7, LLC 2019 https://www.rapid7.com/ # All rights reserved. This material contains unpublished, copyrighted # work including confidential and proprietary information of Rapid7. ############################################################################ # # abusech_feodo_indicators.ps1 # # Script version: 2.1.1 # PowerShell Version: 4.0.1.1 # Source: consultant-public # # THIS CODE AND INFORMATION ARE PROVIDED "AS IS" WITHOUT WARRANTY OF ANY # KIND, EITHER EXPRESSED OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO THE # IMPLIED WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY AND/OR FITNESS FOR A # PARTICULAR PURPOSE. # # Tags: INSIGHTIDR # # Description: # This script will download indicators from the location specified, place # them into a CSV file, and then upload them to the private threat feed # specified. This script is intended to be used with the InsightIDR # Threat Community threats and uses the InsightiDR REST API v1. # #***** VARIABLES TO BE UPDATED ***** #Change the value below to the threat list that you wish to import. #$IOCURL = " [ paste in the Target Threat List to import ] " $IOCURL = "https://feodotracker.abuse.ch/downloads/ipblocklist.txt" #Enter the Threat Key for the threat that is being modified. #Get the threat key by opening your community threat and selecting Threat Key. $ThreatKey = " [ paste in your Threat Key from IDR Threats ] " $headers = @{} #Enter in your platform API key. This can be generated from the Rapid7 Platform home. #Log into https://insight.rapid7.com and use the API Management section to generate a key. $headers["X-Api-Key"] = " [ paste in your Platform API Key ] " #***** END OF VARIABLES TO BE UPDATED ***** #These files are used when downloading the indicators and converting them to CSV format. #They are left in situ on purpose so that you can verify that the script works. If this bothers you, #use the sections below to delete these temp files after the indicators are uploaded. #The first file contains a list of indicators scraped from the $IOCURL website. It is not cleaned up. $IOCOutputFileName = "indicators.txt" #The CSV file is clean and ready to be uploaded. $CSVOutputFileName = "indicators.csv" # Get the location of the script for the output files. Output files # will be located where script is being run. $path = Get-Location $IOCFilePath = "$path" + "$IOCOutputFileName" $CSVFilePath = "$path" + "$CSVOutputFileName" #This location is where the threats will be uploaded. $Url = "https://us.api.insight.rapid7.com/idr/v1/customthreats/key/" + $ThreatKey + "/indicators/replace?format=csv" #Configure the download to use TLS 1.2 [System.Net.ServicePointManager]::ServerCertificateValidationCallback = {$true} [Net.ServicePointManager]::SecurityProtocol = 'Tls12' #delete text download file if it exists already if (Test-Path $IOCFilePath) { Write-Host "Deleting existing indicator file: $IOCFilePath" Remove-Item $IOCFilePath } #delete csv file of downloaded indicators if it exists already if (Test-Path $CSVFilePath) { Write-Host "Deleting existing CSV file: $CSVFilePath" Remove-Item $CSVFilePath } #Download the indicators from the specified URL. Write-Host "Downloading indicators from website" $IOCblocklist = New-Object Net.WebClient $IOCblocklist.DownloadString($IOCURL) > tempindicators.txt #checks for blank text file and exits the program if the file is blank Get-Content tempindicators.txt | Measure-Object -word if ($word -eq 0){ Write-Host "Empty Indicators List, Ending Script" Break } #Clean up the temp file of downloaded indicators. #This script pulls out an indicator from the first field in the list of output. You may need to select a different field. #Change the Select Field1 line to match whatever field has the indicators in it. #The rest of this block cleans up the download and adds commas to end of each line (so it will be a CSV file). $IOCblocklist = Import-CSV tempindicators.txt -Header "Field1", "Field2", "Field3", "Field4", "Field5", "Field6" ` | Select Field1 ` | ConvertTo-CSV -NoTypeInformation ` | % {$_ -replace ` 'G(?^|,)(("(?

[^,"]*?)"(?=,|$))|(?

".*?(?

Final script for ransomware tracker

############################################################################ # Copyright (c) Rapid7, LLC 2019 https://www.rapid7.com/ # All rights reserved. This material contains unpublished, copyrighted # work including confidential and proprietary information of Rapid7. ############################################################################ # # abusech_ransomwaretrackers_indicators.ps1 # # Script version: 2.1.0 # PowerShell Version: 4.0.1.1 # Source: consultant-public # # THIS CODE AND INFORMATION ARE PROVIDED "AS IS" WITHOUT WARRANTY OF ANY # KIND, EITHER EXPRESSED OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO THE # IMPLIED WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY AND/OR FITNESS FOR A # PARTICULAR PURPOSE. # # Tags: INSIGHTIDR # # Description: # This script will download indicators from the location specified, place # them into a CSV file, and then upload them to the private threat feed # specified. This script is intended to be used with the InsightIDR # Threat Community threats and uses the InsightiDR REST API v1. # #***** VARIABLES TO BE UPDATED ***** #Change the value below to the threat list that you wish to import. $IOCURL1 = "https://ransomwaretracker.abuse.ch/downloads/RW_DOMBL.txt" $IOCURL2 = "https://ransomwaretracker.abuse.ch/downloads/RW_URLBL.txt" $IOCURL3 = "https://ransomwaretracker.abuse.ch/downloads/RW_IPBL.txt" #Change this value to the Threat Key for the threat that is being modified. #Get the threat key by opening your community threat and selecting Threat Key. $ThreatKey = "" $headers = @{} #Enter in your platform API key. This can be generated from the Rapid7 Platform home. #Log into https://insight.rapid7.com and use the API Management section to generate a key. $headers["X-Api-Key"] = "" #***** END OF VARIABLES TO BE UPDATED ***** #These files are used when downloading the indicators and converting them to CSV format. #They are left insitu on purpose so that you can verify that the script works. If this bothers you, #use the sections below to delete these temp files after the indicators are uploaded. #The first file contains a list of indicators scraped from the $IOCURL website. It is not cleaned up. $IOCOutputFileName = "indicators.txt" #The CSV file is clean and ready to be uploaded. $CSVOutputFileName = "indicators.csv" # Get the location of the script for the output files. Output files # will be located where script is being run. $path = Get-Location $IOCFilePath = "$path" + "$IOCOutputFileName" $CSVFilePath = "$path" + "$CSVOutputFileName" #This location is where the threats will be uploaded. $Url = "https://us.api.insight.rapid7.com/idr/v1/customthreats/key/" + $ThreatKey + "/indicators/replace?format=csv" #Configure the download to use TLS 1.2 [System.Net.ServicePointManager]::ServerCertificateValidationCallback = {$true} [Net.ServicePointManager]::SecurityProtocol = 'Tls12' #delete text download file if it exists already if (Test-Path tempindicators.txt) { Write-Host "Deleting existing indicator file: tempindicators.txt" Remove-Item tempindicators.txt } #delete text download file if it exists already if (Test-Path $IOCFilePath) { Write-Host "Deleting existing indicator file: $IOCFilePath" Remove-Item $IOCFilePath } #delete csv file of downloaded indicators if it exists already if (Test-Path $CSVFilePath) { Write-Host "Deleting existing CSV file: $CSVFilePath" Remove-Item $CSVFilePath } #Download the indicators from the specified URLs. $IOCblocklist = New-Object Net.WebClient Write-Host "Downloading indicators from website: " $IOCURL1 $IOCblocklist.DownloadString($IOCURL1) > tempindicators.txt Write-Host "Downloading indicators from website: " $IOCURL2 $IOCblocklist.DownloadString($IOCURL2) | Out-File tempindicators.txt -Append Write-Host "Downloading indicators from website: " $IOCURL3 $IOCblocklist.DownloadString($IOCURL3) | Out-File tempindicators.txt -Append #Clean up the temp file of downloaded indicators. #This script pulls out an indicator from the first field in the list of output. You may need to select a different field. #Change the Select Field1 line to match whatever field has the indicators in it. #The rest of this block cleans up the download and adds commas to end of each line (so it will be a CSV file). Write-Host "Reformat the downloaded list of indicators into a comma-delimited text file" $IOCblocklist = Import-CSV tempindicators.txt -Header "Field1", "Field2", "Field3", "Field4", "Field5", "Field6" ` | Select Field1 ` | ConvertTo-CSV -NoTypeInformation ` | % {$_ -replace ` 'G(?^|,)(("(?

[^,"]*?)"(?=,|$))|(?

".*?(?

Final script for URL Haus

############################################################################ # Copyright (c) Rapid7, LLC 2019 https://www.rapid7.com/ # All rights reserved. This material contains unpublished, copyrighted # work including confidential and proprietary information of Rapid7. ############################################################################ # # abusech_urlhaus_indicators.ps1 # # Script version: 2.1.0 # PowerShell Version: 4.0.1.1 # Source: consultant-public # # THIS CODE AND INFORMATION ARE PROVIDED "AS IS" WITHOUT WARRANTY OF ANY # KIND, EITHER EXPRESSED OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO THE # IMPLIED WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY AND/OR FITNESS FOR A # PARTICULAR PURPOSE. # # Tags: INSIGHTIDR # # Description: # This script will download indicators from the location specified, place # them into a CSV file, and then upload them to the private threat feed # specified. This script is intended to be used with the InsightIDR # Threat Community threats and uses the InsightiDR REST API v1. # #***** VARIABLES TO BE UPDATED ***** #Change the value below to the threat list that you wish to import. $IOCURL1 = "https://urlhaus.abuse.ch/downloads/csv/" #Change this value to the Threat Key for the threat that is being modified. #Get the threat key by opening your community threat and selecting Threat Key. $ThreatKey = "" $headers = @{} #Enter in your platform API key. This can be generated from the Rapid7 Platform home. #Log into https://insight.rapid7.com and use the API Management section to generate a key. $headers["X-Api-Key"] = "" #***** END OF VARIABLES TO BE UPDATED ***** #These files are used when downloading the indicators and converting them to CSV format. #They are left insitu on purpose so that you can verify that the script works. If this bothers you, #use the sections below to delete these temp files after the indicators are uploaded. #The first file contains a list of indicators scraped from the $IOCURL website. It is not cleaned up. $IOCOutputFileName = "indicators.txt" #The CSV file is clean and ready to be uploaded. $CSVOutputFileName = "indicators.csv" # Get the location of the script for the output files. Output files # will be located where script is being run. $path = Get-Location $IOCFilePath = "$path" + "$IOCOutputFileName" $CSVFilePath = "$path" + "$CSVOutputFileName" #This location is where the threats will be uploaded. $Url = "https://us.api.insight.rapid7.com/idr/v1/customthreats/key/" + $ThreatKey + "/indicators/replace?format=csv" #Configure the download to use TLS 1.2 [System.Net.ServicePointManager]::ServerCertificateValidationCallback = {$true} [Net.ServicePointManager]::SecurityProtocol = 'Tls12' #delete text download file if it exists already if (Test-Path tempindicators.txt) { Write-Host "Deleting existing indicator file: tempindicators.txt" Remove-Item tempindicators.txt } #delete text download file if it exists already if (Test-Path $IOCFilePath) { Write-Host "Deleting existing indicator file: $IOCFilePath" Remove-Item $IOCFilePath } #delete csv file of downloaded indicators if it exists already if (Test-Path $CSVFilePath) { Write-Host "Deleting existing CSV file: $CSVFilePath" Remove-Item $CSVFilePath } #Download the indicators from the specified URLs. $IOCblocklist = New-Object Net.WebClient Write-Host "Downloading indicators from website: " $IOCURL1 $IOCblocklist.DownloadString($IOCURL1) > tempindicators.txt #Clean up the temp file of downloaded indicators. #This script pulls out an indicator from the first field in the list of output. You may need to select a different field. #Change the Select Field1 line to match whatever field has the indicators in it. #The rest of this block cleans up the download and adds commas to end of each line (so it will be a CSV file). Write-Host "Reformat the downloaded list of indicators into a comma-delimited text file" $IOCblocklist = Import-CSV tempindicators.txt -Header "Field1", "Field2", "Field3", "Field4", "Field5", "Field6" ` | Select Field3 ` | ConvertTo-CSV -NoTypeInformation ` | % {$_ -replace ` 'G(?^|,)(("(?

[^,"]*?)"(?=,|$))|(?

".*?(?

#gallery-0-5 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-5 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Go to Source Author: Teresa Copple Import External Threat Intelligence with the InsightIDR Threats API Original Post from Rapid7 Author: Teresa Copple Have you ever noticed how things that sound really difficult can sometimes be surprisingly simple to do?

[apexart-journal]

Radha Gomaty in NYC Day 16

Washington

Schedule meant finding my way to the National Mall and looking for all kinds of monuments &memorials  that had been listed out to me to visit. As things stood  I was already quite late finding my way to my hotel , settling in and getting out again finding my way in the Washington  Metro .

What hit most in Washington are the interminable distances ,not quite friendly for a walker. It’s not even actually just the issue of distances but the fact that the scale is not human scale as in NYC.

You could ask me who am I kidding !

“NYC with its skyscrapers … human scale ,huh?we sure have heard that Love is blind ,baby …but this one hits a new high!”

No, Not that really .What i meant is this - down there on the road things are placed closer together .Even the skyscrapers that are all infinitely vertical than horizontal take up less space on the ground and are all  closely set together at a fair level of the eye.

Our (“Our ,eh?!this woman who is ‘inbound from South Eroor’ in all her hash tagged posts on the apexart journal on Tumblr says ‘our ‘ for NYC’s roads now? Wow!”) roads are narrower too ,and so yes,infinitely and comfortingly ,more crowded.

It is also a question of layout-No friendly corner pharmacies, No small eateries  spread out over the place but only in specialized pockets almost .One can  walk  blocks and blocks without catching sight of even one.

The overwhelming feeling was that one was staying in an overly manicured ,scaled up picture postcard park.

That feeling was certainly heightened on reaching the National Mall, a huge sprawling over sized lawn spread over several football fields.

I haven’t really worn shoes & socks since was in school a few decades ago and I always hated socks because my feet perspire.

Already  having tasted the pleasures of kicking off my shoes the previous evening with the feisty Elizabeth Larison, who was assigned to guide me on a walking tour over the old Brooklyn Foot Bridge that being really old was still actually paved with timber  , I decided to do an encore.

So peeling off and  rolling up my socks together in one  grey woolly smelly ball stuffed into the innards of my bag and my walking shoes , tied firmly by their laces hanging to either side from the handle of my grossly overstuffed shoulder tote that was already weighing me down enough, I set off .

Sole and Soul sang a sweet duet.

Ah bliss! to walk with soles bared on the cool lawns , the gritty gravel , the textured earth …

It was like going back to my nine month barefoot existence when i was 17 year old undergrad Design student in NID, Ahmedabad when I gave up the use of footwear  for  nine months for some abstruse reasons related to Gandhi ,Thoreau, altering the feel of being or some such thing and also to cut the sheer bother to have to take off my footwear each time I chose to walk the grass and not the foot walks!

So the walk turned some other way .It was no longer about dragging myself across  Memorials .

Memorials and the insight that physical Memory too is essentially a construct came with the passing of a much loved One.

The whole process of Memory has been a personal journey as well for me over the past some months and days.

Being an artist is also about inhabiting that State of Being that glows up in rare moments of incandescence that total self absorbed engagement  evokes .

Inhabiting such a Form of Being in itself is the first and most primal Form of Art .It is infinitely easier for a creative spirit to understand that History, and every other story for that matter even our own autobiographical ones, is just  one thread amongst a hundred odd possible others by which these glowing beads are sought to be strung together ,’made sense of ‘. We have this inner compulsion to arrange and order things into Time and duration .We are conditioned to  simply not be content with the moments in themselves .We cannot leave these moments be in their singular ,pristine ,self born glory and have to compulsively tinker with their glorious This -ness …

The  notion of Time was invented in this itch -like tinkering .

Is it not the notion of Time that births the illusion of Gap  between a thought and its fruition,an action and its reaction?The inventor of Postponement?I n fact ,isn’t Time the Serpent in the Garden of Now that invented Desire because in the very notion of Desire is inbuilt the notion of Postponement?

NOW is raw .

It wears no clothes and in the upsurge of its sheer incandescence it scalds all masks &clothes away.

That is why in the aftermath of the serpent’s visit ,Adam & Eve.teh notion of clothes entered the picture alongside the notion of shame &guilt & fear & sin.

But in the aftermath of the serpent’s visit, the notion Labor too was born and brows that knew not what sweat was or hands the need for the intermediary of a tool became callused and worn because Hunger was born too as a postponement between the need for Nourishment and its fulfillment .In  the cool white intensity of Satya yuga(or the Eon of Truth ,the first of the four described in Indian scriptures  Light can assume a life form with just the meeting of the intensities of intentions  bypassing the messier commingling of physical bodies.

But in the aftermath of the serpent’s visit,instead of the bliss of a play like fluidity of boundaries that can shift and change at will,Sex, now reduced to a specific  act between two kinds of bodies designed for the purpose    entered the scene .Birth  now entailed the processuality of a prolonged Pregnancy & Labor…    

As the Buddha observed succinctly-Things compounded tend to fall apart  . So it is with History  as well which is a composing  or threading by the string of a chosen strand of whatever narrative that serves best the pre defined purpose at hand ,the many moments of a collective existence together .In administrative interest it is important to keep certain narratives stronger  and more compelling than others are .

This can be created  through frequent repetition one over the other like the devices of chorus in music or alliteration in poetry  .Overlaying it with sentiment and other sensory cues  that can be triggered then easily by the slightest suggestion later by which the needle correctly falls in ,running through and playing out what has been already  etched in through repetition through the grooves  as Habit.

Of course some moments are always there , the sort that poets swoop on with the alacrity of falcons ,that do not quite jell with the chosen ��main narrative .These are easily dealt with the oft used devices of omission usually by   ignoring and  passing over in silence .If that doesn’t work ,then by  invoking processes of demonization that lead to the convenience of a Graveyard  like silence once Taboo  buries it under one of its its leaden headstones.  

Some moments of the inaasimilable-as-they-are may lend themselves to some  photoshopping (tweaking).Which also works to build the edifice of Memory& Memorials …

Oh Well.

Whatever .

Perhaps that is why whenever i encounter a proliferation of memorials in one place a pinch of salt immediately finds its place between my thumb and forefinger .Well and truly ,I dont know how it gets there .But that pinch of salt  is what carries me safely through all the machines of history making without getting unduly caught in any of its busily grinding teeth.

The Washington Obelisk Tower has great light effects with the sun breaking out through the gathering clouds. A man from the Philippines and I helped each other snap the customary  “I have arrived.Look at me!” portrait-before-famous-monument scrapbook memory shots.

I am supposed to cover an impossibly high number of memorials in this one evening walk -the Vietnam memorial ,the t World war 2 Memorial,the Martin Luther King Memorial, The Lincoln Memorial  and if possible ,also the Thomas Jefferson Memorial across the River.On the way I notice plenty of museums as well  .Two suddenly draw me to them with that light visceral tug that always is a right indication that there is something in there for me . They were  the Museums of Asian Art in America and The  Museum of African Art.

No time to enter and it is almost closing time anyway .

I’ve a schedule to cover,you see!

(the schedule  !the schedule! oh… the schedule!)

It is already getting late into the evening.

I hear strains of music far away and somehow feel that following it will lead me to Martin Luther King’s memorial and decide to follow the sensations in my feet and in my ears.

On the way I see a sunken plaza of fountains,cascading streams with a pool in the centre and scores of people taking pictures around them .This is the World War Two memorial.

I walk through it skirting the crowds and continue my engagement with bare feet upon earth till I at last see the source of the music far away in what looks like a rather severe Greco-Roman looking structure.

A revelry is on on there in complete contrast with the mood of the building itself . I go closer and see the band playing .Playing is not the word .They  are rocking ,belting out lively Latin American Music  to which all kinds of human bodies-youngsters,hipsters, teenagers,school kids,senior citizens , folks in their middle years, all kinds of couples from various nationalities and sexual orientations are flowing together in  a River of revelry.

Ol’ man Lincoln meanwhile looks on with his rather saturnine expression  from atop his stone throne set high on the many tiered stone steps at the saturnalia there in uninhibited progress.

I choose not to climb up the steps and read speeches but weave my way through the infinitely more interesting human throng.

I have been walking nonstop so long I think it is wisdom to calculate the distance that I have to walk back now and  turn to retrace my steps .

Half way through as i walk the cold breeze gathers strength  ,the darkness deepens .Walking endlessly i find myself in line again with the Washington obelisk where I began my barefoot sojourn and the gathering rainclouds begin to pour  .

A true New Yorker & and a true  Keralite have one thing in common  -a handy all season umbrella in the bag at all times to brandish against all inhospitable weather.

It looks like I am the only one on National Mall with an umbrella.

Well,I looked around and I realize ,with or without umbrella .I am perhaps  the only one left in the National  Mall!

I sing out loud in the rain splashing little puddles as I walk…Bob Marley,Louis armstrong ,the songs of Ella what have you in my best possible jazz imitation voice.

The Red brick  Cathedral  that I had passed earlier rises to view on my right .For a moment I have this urge to enter and kneel in silent prayer in one of the old wooden pews in the high domed interior I imagine hung over with paintings&chandeliers  .

Its entrance  up  a flight of stairs was however cloaked with ink dark shadow. I put out only one tentative indecisive foot to the right in a step when something  stirs in the dark and calls out in a low male voice .A glint of eyes: “Hello Ma’am…”

i immediately changed plans, withdraw that outstretched foot as gracefully and unobtrusively as I can (What if it was just a homeless man calling out for hope of some financial assistance that i am anyway unable to give now?why hurt his feelings?) and maintain my brisk pace.

There is not one person to whom I could ask directions to the closest  metro station whose terrible signage is legion in Washington.

Amazing!

Not a soul on  the road after just about 7.30 pm?!

Ugh! What a stick-inthe-mud respectable town , i say!

Give me my crazy swingin’ old NYC any day !

I finally spot a man and a woman from afar.

But as I approach to ask there is a sudden scene change. She on second thoughts turns to gaze into his eyes  and soon in that deserted bus shelter,they are locked in a long lingering gentle kiss in a little pool of light  with the rest of the roads  looking like a neutron bomb had fallen on it exterminating all signs of Life.

Except me ,who stood there turned into the all-seeing -eye -of -God looking upon a wonderful moment when time stood still for two people.

Directions to the Metro station be damned! I walk on feeling very pleased .Overall ,in this country I love the fact that people express their intimacies without reserve-I recall my  moments of Subway joy in NYC- an old couple twining and untwining palms with slowly caressing fingers at the metro station as they stand talking about perfectly ordinary things, A couple basking in the park calmly leaning on one another in the sun -she is dozing lightly with an open book across her belly and  he is texting with one finger supporting her weight upon his chest.Two youngsters in love lingering over a kiss to say goodbye as they prepare to catch trains in opposite directions for the night.Two men , both in skirts sitting in each other’s laps chatting happily oblivious to the world.

It’s nice.

How uptight are we back home!How merciless are we in our censorship while hunger & desire claw our innards to the point of near manic violence that we do our best to keep declawed,defanged or at least chained and hidden in a cage in the cellar ,dark and redolent with droppings.

Meanwhile a Japanese man in a suit looking almost as lost as me zero in into one another asking directions and we decide to team up in a spot-the-metro station contest .

Though we fail first attempt , the distance covered becomes time for mutual self introduction .At last we find ourselves before a drab grey building and spotting a man in uniform decide to ask him where the Metro is .He pointed into the building with an equally grey drab  expression.That  anonymous hulk of a building   happened to be just it!

Back home it would have immediately drawn out an indignant interjection -“ithenthaa!valla vellarikka pattanamo?!”

(Lit.Transln: “is this some kind of cucumber town or what?!”

Meaning  :”is this some sort of ridiculous village or small town growing cucumbers?

(The  smallness of the town is measured metaphorically in terms of a settlement that raises low value produce like cucumbers!!!)

Really ! is Washington an overgrown village where everyone is just supposed to know where things are ?(Actually ,that’s all I meant to say ,folks!)

My gentlemanly escort, though going opposite way ,graciously waits till I get the gate opening-with metro card -ritual straight and waves with that slight inflection of his spine that his culture has unmistakably ingrained in him as he moves on.

This is  just like I do instinctively  the first touch-on -forehead-and-then-the centre-of-chest routine  every time my feet unintentionally touches someone on a train .It is an ‘I respect your sanctity’ gesture that we pick up as children because where we grew up  to place one’s feet on anyone  is construed a disrespectful act.

(In fact even crossing over any living being is seen as a no-no because the physical body also includes the invisible aura of energy around it that should not be desecrated by the touch of feet!)

I get off finally at Farragut North station with disrupted Late running  trains due to repair work & dysfunctional elevators of which I counted at least  five in my two and half days stay there .

That certainly made me feel very good indeed about our stuff back home. If this is the scene  in Washington, the power capital of the world,you are excused ,little Kochi !

I am starving after ,I suppose, my ten kilometer circuit walk today .

Finally losing my way to the hotel ,I   stumble into small shop where a man of Caribbean descent sells baked stuff he makes himself  starting with what we call savory puffs back home for about 5 dollars each .

When i call the lobby a fourth time to please send someone to to teach me how to use the coffee maker , a slightly tired looking but attractive african origin woman walk in. Alice Walker ,66 ,is a generous soul who warms up to me and begins to chatting even fetching me extra satchets  of coffee .We chat on about her decision to quit the US and go back to Sierre Leone where her husband waits for her leaving behind her three married daughters in Washington  because “… no-one knows how to live or eat properly here and my knees are killing me with all this standing on the job and boy! dont I need some rest now! ”

I do too …

A large watery cup of coffee later , I chat with a friend and in one on the two large looking beds in a room far too big for one small lone me.

I fall into a deep untroubled sleep.

[aracelishaynes-blog]

So What is Bitcoin Gold?

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