#model!ransom is a menace

[rohinikasturi1]

The Evolution of Cyber Threats: Thought Leadership Perspectives in 2024

In the rapidly evolving landscape of cybersecurity, staying ahead of threats requires vigilance and a deep understanding of the evolving nature of cyber threats. As we enter 2024, the digital realm is more interconnected and complex than ever, presenting unprecedented opportunities and challenges. To navigate this terrain effectively, gaining insights from thought leaders at the forefront of cybersecurity is crucial. In this article, we delve into the evolving nature of cyber threats and explore insights from industry experts to understand how organizations can better protect themselves in 2024.

The Shifting Paradigm of Cyber Threats

Cyber threats have undergone a significant transformation in recent years, propelled by technological advancements and the increasing digitization of our lives. Gone are the days when simple viruses and malware were the primary concerns of cybersecurity professionals. Today, we face a multifaceted landscape of threats, including sophisticated ransomware attacks, state-sponsored cyber espionage, and the growing menace of AI-driven cyber threats.

According to Mary Johnson, Chief Security Officer at a leading cybersecurity firm, "The proliferation of connected devices and the advent of the Internet of Things (IoT) has expanded the attack surface, providing cybercriminals with more entry points than ever before." This sentiment is echoed by many experts in the field who emphasize the importance of adopting a holistic approach to cybersecurity that encompasses not just traditional IT systems but also emerging technologies like IoT and cloud computing.

Rise of Ransomware and Extortion Attacks

One of the most concerning trends in recent years has been the surge in ransomware attacks targeting organizations of all sizes. These attacks involve hackers infiltrating systems, encrypting data, and demanding ransom payments in exchange for decryption keys. The consequences of such attacks can be devastating, resulting in significant financial losses and reputational damage.

John Smith, a cybersecurity researcher, warns that "Ransomware has evolved from a nuisance to a sophisticated business model for cybercriminals, with ransom demands reaching millions of dollars in some cases." He emphasizes the importance of implementing robust backup and recovery mechanisms and proactive measures such as employee training and vulnerability management to mitigate the risk of ransomware attacks.

The Threat Landscape in the Age of Artificial Intelligence

As artificial intelligence (AI) continues to advance, so too do the capabilities of cyber attackers. AI-powered tools can automate and enhance various aspects of cyber attacks, from surveillance and infiltration to evasion and exfiltration of data. This poses a significant challenge for defenders, who must leverage AI and machine learning technologies to detect and respond to threats effectively.

Dr. Emily Chen, a cybersecurity researcher specializing in AI, explains, "The cat-and-mouse game between attackers and defenders is increasingly being played out by algorithms, with AI-driven attacks becoming more stealthy and adaptive." She emphasizes developing AI-driven defense systems that detect and neutralize emerging threats in real-time.

The Role of Nation-States in Cyber Warfare

In addition to cybercriminals, nation-states are active players in cybersecurity, employing cyber capabilities for espionage, sabotage, and geopolitical leverage. The past decade has seen a rise in state-sponsored cyber attacks targeting critical infrastructure, government agencies, and private enterprises, highlighting the need for enhanced international cooperation and diplomacy in cyberspace.

General James Carter, former Director of the National Cybersecurity Agency, says, "Cyber warfare is becoming increasingly pervasive and sophisticated, with nation-states investing heavily in offensive cyber capabilities." He stresses the importance of building resilient infrastructure and fostering information sharing and collaboration among governments and private sector stakeholders to deter and mitigate the impact of state-sponsored cyber attacks.

The Human Factor: Insider Threats and Social Engineering

While technological solutions are essential for cybersecurity, it's crucial not to overlook the human element. Insider threats, whether intentional or unintentional, pose a significant risk to organizations, with employees often serving as unwitting accomplices to cyber attacks. Social engineering tactics, such as phishing and pretexting, continue to be effective for attackers manipulating individuals into divulging sensitive information or performing unauthorized actions.

Sarah Thompson, a cybersecurity consultant, emphasizes the importance of cultivating a culture of security awareness within organizations. "Training and education are key to mitigating insider threats and combating social engineering attacks," she says. "By empowering employees to recognize and report suspicious activities, organizations can strengthen their defenses against these pervasive threats."

Looking Ahead: Strategies for Resilience

As we look ahead to the future of cybersecurity in 2024 and beyond, it's clear that the threat landscape will continue to evolve, presenting new challenges and opportunities for defenders. To navigate this terrain effectively, organizations must adopt a proactive and adaptive approach to cybersecurity that encompasses both technological solutions and human-centric strategies.

Critical strategies for building resilience in the face of evolving cyber threats include:

Continuous risk assessment and threat intelligence gathering to identify and prioritize vulnerabilities and emerging threats.

Investment in advanced technologies such as AI and machine learning for threat detection, analysis, and response.

Collaboration and information sharing with industry peers, government agencies, and international partners to enhance cyber defense capabilities.

Comprehensive cybersecurity training and awareness programs to educate employees and foster a culture of security consciousness.

Robust incident response and recovery plans to minimize the impact of cyber-attacks and ensure business continuity.

By embracing these strategies and leveraging insights from thought leaders, organizations can strengthen their cybersecurity posture and effectively mitigate the risks posed by evolving cyber threats in 2024 and beyond. As technology advances and adversaries become more sophisticated, vigilance, innovation, and collaboration will be more critical than ever in safeguarding our digital future.

[crimechannels]

By • Olalekan Fagbade Proceeds of kidnapping being used to finance terrorism – ONSA Retired Rear Adm. Yaminu Musa, the Coordinator, National Counter-Terrorism Centre in the Office of the National Security Adviser (NCTC-ONSA), says proceeds of kidnapping is being used to partly finance terrorism. Musa said this on Wednesday in Abuja during the `Anti-Kidnap Multi-Agency Fusion Cell Media and Communication workshop’, organised by ONSA in collaboration with the British High Commission. “Kidnapping for ransom is also identified as one of the means of funding terrorism. “Thus, carnage unleashed by kidnappers in affiliation with terrorist groups all over the world leading to loss and disruption of lives and properties, is a major concern. “Hence the need for collective efforts in advancing measures to check the threat. “Evidently, the menace requires concerted and sustained efforts by every citizen, government at all levels, international community and the media which of course is the Fourth Estate of the Realm. “You will agree with me that proceeds of kidnap for ransom enterprise have continued to serve as a platform for financing terrorism not only in Nigeria but across the Sahel,” he said. Musa said the workshop was pertinent to the overall success of the government’s effort to curtail the menace of kidnapping. He added that the media would help to build the kind of relationship the NCTC-ONSA desired on the efforts of security agencies in the protection of lives and properties in the country. According to him, the agenda setting role of the media cannot be over emphasised in the fight against terrorism and other associated crimes like kidnapping. “In an increasingly interconnected world, where information spreads at an unprecedented pace, the media has the power to either amplify or mitigate the impact of security-related news events. “The consequences of inaccurate or sensationalist reporting can be detrimental to public trust, exacerbate fear and anxiety, and even hinder counterterrorism efforts,” he said. The coordinator said it was vital that the government and the media work together to establish a framework of synergy and standardisation for reporting on security-related matters. He said that such collaboration would not only enhance the accuracy and quality of news reporting but also contribute to national security. The Programme Manager, National Crime Agency UK, Mr Chris Grimson, said the workshop was a fall out of a number of agreements between Nigeria and the UK to create a multi-agency kidnap fusion cell. Grimson said the purpose of the workshop was to identify and explore what was needed to create the fusion cell or whatever it turns out to be. One of the facilitators of the workshop, retired Rear Adm. Leye Jaiyeola, said “the fusion cell workshop was designed to come up with a joint decision model to allow for an effective multi-agency use and conflict resolution Jaiyeola said the workshop was meant to set up principles that would provide participants with an agreed framework to support decision making, and develop appropriate legislation for effective management and resolution of kidnapping issues. He said that kidnapping had become a major threat in Nigeria, hence the need to develop an agreed national kidnap fusion and coordination mechanism. “Our focus is to make sure that we maintain a strategic national kidnap operation posture, get all the agencies involved in doing it, so that we will be able to put our feet at the right spot and come up with a set of principles so that the commanders will be able to deliver. “We have looked at coming up with standard operating procedure, looked at developing the doctrine itself and this session of workshop is the session that involves relating with the public so that they will build trust and confidence in the security. “Before now that is missing. As to what the security agencies are doing and in some instances,

it is assumed that the security agencies are not doing anything, which in most instances is informed by lack of knowledge of what the security agencies are doing. “So the essence of this phase of training is for us to develop what we call a clear and effective information sharing strategy and an effective information sharing platform,” he said. The News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) reports that the workshop has participants drawn from the media, military, security agencies, ministries, departments and agencies. (NAN) #ProceedfromkidnappingbeingusedtofinanceTerrorismsaysONSA

[the-iceni-bitch]

Damn it Siri!!! 🤤🤤🤤

I’m supposed to go back to work soon and this is all I’m gonna be thinking about for the rest of the day

CHRIS EVANS FILA | 2015

[americasass91]

The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18​ asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.  

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo​

[autolenaphilia]

Dirty Harry (1971)

(Spoilers and discussions of police brutality, torture and copaganda)

Dirty Harry from 1971 is probably one of the most influential crime films ever made. The title character police Inspector “Dirty” Harry Callahan is the model for the cop who doesn’t play by the rules and uses a lot of violence to stop crime. Clint Eastwood was mainly know for westerns when he was cast, and the character does have shades of his cowboy roles, but put in a modern urban environment, 1970s San Francisco to be exact.

The film was very controversial when it was released in december 1971. Showings were picketed by feminists, and many film critics called the film fascist. The reason is that the protagonist doesn’t give a fuck about the legal restrictions put on police. Harry does not just fire back at criminals with a magnum revolver, but does thing like break in and search a suspect’s home without a warrant and torture them for information. The film explicitly points out how his actions break at least amendments 4, 5 and 6 of the US constitution. If the methods of Dirty Harry are taken as a model for how police work should be done, the end result would be a police state, where cops can just do whatever if they say you are a criminal.

There is grounds for the accusation. The film can certainly be read as defending and glamorizing Harry and his actions. Clint Eastwood was never a great actor, but Dirty Harry is a great role for him, as he uses his handsome face and charisma to charm the audience and make us like Harry. So at least emotionally we are led to condone his actions.

The film’s villain is in comparison portrayed as so utterly vile that Harry methods can be justified. The serial killer Scorpio is utterly detestable. Loosely based on the contemporary Zodiac killer, he murders men, women and children, for his own personal sadistic enjoyment. Although he is not above demanding huge sums of money as ransoms, deals he always reneges on. His personality switches between bullying people with sadistic glee when he has the upper hand, and pathetically begging for mercy when he doesn’t. Actor Andrew Robinson plays him with theatrical flamboyance, but the character lacks any sense of honour or dignity that make other flamboyant villains often surprisingly likeable. No one can deny how the writing and acting is excellent at making the audience hate Scorpio. No one will mourn him when Harry blows him away with his revolver in the film’s climax.

Scorpio’s actions are so serious and he so detestable that Harry’s actions seem justified. The legal system seems unable to deal with him. Due to Harry throwing out the constitution in catching Scorpio, Scorpio is set free on the legal irregularities, and the film’s climax is Harry having to stop him while he hijacks a school bus.

So that is one valid reading of the film. In that case the film’s argument can be summed up as: Legal restrictions makes it too hard for cops to catch criminals, the law respects the rights of criminals more than those of victims. So we need cops to be set loose and do whatever it takes to stop criminals. That kind of argument is definitely fascist or at least very authoritarian. A call for a police state, where suspects have no legal or even constitutional rights and cops can do whatever they want.

Of course the film can also be read as ambiguous. Harry’s actions are not entirely justified and instead morally dubious.

Are Harry’s actions entirely motivated by a desire to stop the bad guys? For the film hints that there is a streak of sadism in him. The famous “Do I feel lucky?” scene is mostly famous for Harry’s memetic monologue about his magnum revolver. He performs a bluff to disarm a bank robber. But directly afterwards he decides to toy with the man he already disarmed for his own amusement. He smiles at how he makes a man think he is going to die. Harry might come across as badass, but that’s because he is genuinely menacing.

This smile reminds me of the Joker

The torture scene where Harry jams his foot into Scorpio’s knife wound to get information out of him is also ambiguous. The justification for it is a ticking time-bomb scenario. Scorpio has kidnapped a teenage girl and buried her alive and if he doesn’t reveal where she is, she is going to suffocate. He uses this kidnapping to get ransom money. Scorpio does reveal where the girl is due to the torture, but she is already dead when the cops find her.

And Harry had already deduced that would be the case. When he is told about Scorpio’s demand, he says that he knows the girl is already dead and they shouldn’t pay. He uses her to justify his actions later, but he contradicts himself in doing so. So the ticking time-bomb was never a real thing, he never had a valid reason to torture.

It’s also filmed in a way that doesn’t come across as heroic. Eastwood distorts his face into an ugly angry gargoyle-like grimace, the discordant music by Lalo Schifrin would fit a horror movie scene, and the film pans out to a wideshot of the stadium as if the camera finds the events too horrible to record in too much close-up detail.

And while the DA and judge that criticize Harry later might come across as liberal strawmen to some, their arguments strike me as reasonable. They point out that their objections are based in the fact that Harry’s action did violate important parts of the US constitution. From their perspective, it’s Harry’s actions that explicitly ignored existing constitutional limits on police actions that set Scorpio free, not the laws themselves.

Harry might be argued to be just as motivated as a sadistic glee in violence similar to that of Scorpio. There are like two sides of a coin.

Take for example, Scorpio’s peace sign belt buckle and compare it with Harry’s badge. The peace sign is obviously ironic, because he is a serial killer. The peace sign and his longish hair makes him look like a hippie, but he doesn’t seem progressive at all. He calls black people the n-word in one of his letters and targets them, and literally has a gay couple in his gun sights at one point. You might read that as an accusation against the hippie movement, that they were all hypocrites. But it introduces the theme of sadistic killers hiding underneath symbols of a greater ideal, when they are actually doing violence because they enjoy it.

And you can read Harry’s badge as the same thing. He certainly doesn’t uphold the laws and the US constitution that the badge is meant to symbolize. His actions might prevent worse criminals, but they still are crimes in themselves. The film actually ends with Harry coming to some kind of realization about this, as he throws his badge into the river. It doesn’t represent him or his actions anymore. It’s not his killing Scorpio that we end with, but with this very ambiguous action. Of course the sequels have Harry continue to be a police inspector, but the original ending suggest he abandons policing.

This might just be me reading something more agreeable into the film than a fascistoid argument for a police state. But I’m not alone in this reading, this fine essay by Andy Andersen comes to a similar viewpoint. And there are definite indications that this was part of the filmmakers intentions. Director Don Siegel seems to have been a liberal, and reading about the making of suggests an intended ambiguity that has been often lost in the film’s reception, both positive and negative. The original trailer for the film interestingly calls it “a movie about a couple of killers”. Wikipedia has some interesting material about the making of the film, with citations. Harry Julian Fink’s and Rita Fink’s original script had a theme of “blurring the distinction between criminal and cop“. The famously right-wing John Milius did uncredited writing for the film, but even he said in a 1976 interview that one of his ideas was “The cop being the same as the killer except he has a badge.

Before watching Dirty Harry,I expected it to be straightforward copaganda, but there is actually ambiguity in the story it tells. Of course you can still argue that the film takes Harry’s side and justifies his actions, there is evidence for such a reading. But even taken as such, it’s still an interesting and entertaining watch. It’s a well-made and entertaining action film, Don Siegel’s direction, the music by Lalo Schifrin, the performances by Eastwood and Robinson all make it a fine aesthetic experience. But it’s also interesting because it provides such opportunities for critical analysis. But I’m a weirdo that finds ideological analysis of the themes of a piece of media fun in itself, that’s why I spend so much time writing these reviews. I knew Dirty Harry mainly from its massive influence on later police fiction, much of which is unambiguous copaganda, and I was actually surprised to find that there are these ambiguities in it, providing room for a critical reading of Harry Callahan. And if you want to truly understand the history of copaganda and how it has changed over the years, seeing Dirty Harry is a must. Even if the film itself is far more ambiguous than most of its imitators, that influence can’t be denied.

[sage-writing]

Hello! Hope you are well.

For the challenge, how about Ransom / minor car accident (Ransom’s fault) and you have to swap insurance information.

Accidentally in Love // Ransom Drysdale

(soft!)Ransom Drysdale x fem! reader

Summary: Ransom hit your car with his beamer. He insists on paying the damage and taking care of you.

Word count: ~1.5k

Warning: minor car accident, rest should be pure fluff

A/N: This is my contribution to @syntheticavenger "How it Started - How it's going 5k challenge" Congratulations on your new milestone😘 You are an AMAZING writer and I love your work so much❤

Ugh, I started this story on real paper because I was affected by the severe floodings in Germany. No electricity, no running water vor 5 days and I was in DIRE need of a fluffy fic [sorry, not sorry]. Now I finally managed to finish this. After my last Ransom story was rather dark, it was time to go full on soft. as always I am not an English native speaker so there will be probably some errors. Feedback is always appreciated ❤ Now enjoy!

How it started...

It was pouring with rain and the windshield wipers were struggling to provide a clear view.

The drops were hitting your car so hard that you could hardly hear the music on the radio. The long hard day at work had taken its toll on you and all you wanted to do was get back to your cozy home and enjoy some hot cocoa.

The traffic light in front of you turned red and you came to a stop.

Suddenly, a jolt went through your car. Not so strong that your seatbelt jammed, but still strong enough to scare you quite a bit. After a few seconds you realized what had happened. Someone had hit the back of your car.

Shit. This was exactly what you didn't need right now. You pulled over to the side of the road, activated your hazard lights, pulled your thin jacket tighter around you and got out.

The wind drove the rain right against your face and you struggled to keep your eyes open. Oh great. The car that had crashed into you was probably a vintage BMW. One like that wasn't exactly an run-of-the-mill model, so the damage was sure to be costly.

Besides, you knew exactly what kind of people drove cars like that. Rich assholes, guaranteed to deny that the accident was their fault.

Panic rose in you. If the other driver denied being at fault and your insurance company didn't pay, you'd be stuck with the costs, and there was no way you could afford that.

You examined the deformed metal on the rear bumper. No severe damage, the car would definitely be able to go on, but still, it would be really expensive.

At that moment your opponent entered the scene. He was quite tall, his dark hair was slicked back, he wore a cognac-colored coat and scarf with paisley pattern. He approached you with large, menacing-looking strides. This made you all the more surprised with what gentle voice he spoke to you.

"Jesus, are you okay?" he asked, putting his hands gently on your upper arms. " Are you hurt?" His blue eyes scrutinized you, checking for possible injuries. "Um, uh, no. I'm okay, I think." You stuttered.

His tense features relaxed and he exhaled in relief. "I'm so sorry, I was inattentive and didn't react fast enough." His gaze shifted to the two cars. "Shit, that's really annoying, but I'll pay for the damage, of course."

He rummaged in his coat pocket, pulled out two small cards and handed them to you. "Here's my contact details and the information of my insurance agent. Contact him and he will take care of the reparation and the bill."

You were surprised at how competently and cooperatively he resolved the situation while you barely said anything. You accepted the business cards and glanced at them. "Hugh Ransom Drysdale." you repeated.

The corners of his mouth moved up and formed a wide grin. "So you've already heard of me." "Not easy to avoid that in this town." The Thrombey/ Drysdale family had a bit of a reputation, and he was no exception. You also handed him a card with your contact information. He read your name out loud "Sweet name," he added.

"Well Mr. Drysdale, thank you for your help. I'll be in touch." The rain was still pelting down from the sky and by now you were pretty soaked. "Please call me Ransom...and sweetie, are you sure you're okay? You seem a little shaky."

You really were a little unsteady on your feet. "Yeah, I'm fine, I just want to go home. It's been a long day and I did just get kind of scared," you explained briefly.

Ransom brushed back a strand that had fallen into his face. "Do you mind if I drive you home? It's my fault that the accident happened, and I don't feel comfortable letting you drive alone right now. We can park your car here and I'll send someone to take it to the mechanic later."

Your breath caught and you had to sort out your thoughts for a moment. "That's really generous, but I really don't want to be any trouble, Mr. Drysdale."

"It's Ransom," he corrected you, "and I'm afraid I have to insist. Come on, it's cold and wet out here." You agreed, too tired and exhausted to protest further.

After locking your car, Ransom put his coat around your shoulders and opened his passenger door for you. He then jogged around the car and got behind the wheel. "Are you ready?" You nodded.

How it's going...

The intense smell of coffee woke you up. You stretched out in bed and felt for his body next to you.

He wasn't there. It wasn't his style to get up so early, especially not on the weekend.

The need to stay in bed was strong. The weather outside was horrible and you had no plans for the day anyway.

The wooden stairs in the hallway creaked and a moment later a gentle knock sounded at the door. Ransom entered the room grinning, a tray of breakfast in his hand.

He set it down on the nightstand and gave you a kiss on the temple. "Good morning, sleepyhead. How are you?" "A little cold, but otherwise I'm fine," you mumbled sleepily.

Ransom laughed softly, got you one of his sweaters, and carefully put it on you. "Better?" You nodded and pushed the way-too-long sleeves up a bit. The fabric was soft and it smelled of his outrageously expensive perfume.

Much to Ransom's chagrin, you had a weakness for "borrowing" his sweaters or shirts. Sometimes, however, he liked to see you in his clothes, especially because you seemed relatively small in them; it aroused his protective instinct.

He slipped under the covers on the other side of the bed and pulled you close to him. Your head rested against his chest and he caressed your cheek with his fingers.

Suspiciously, you glanced at the breakfast tray. It was no one's birthday, your anniversary wasn't for another few months, and there was nothing else to celebrate.

"Hugh, what have you done now?" His brow furrowed. "Since when do I need a reason to make you breakfast?" That didn't convince you. Something was up.

Despite the relaxed environment, the tenderness, and the closeness, Ransom was somehow tense. You decided to let it go for now and continued to snuggle up to him, sliding your hand under his shirt and around his waist.

Ransom handed you a cup of coffee and placed the tray next to you. It looked and smelled fantastic. Buns, scrambled eggs, yogurt, fresh strawberries, and orange juice.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked. You leaned over to him and kissed his cheek. "It's perfect, just the way it is.“

After the breakfast, you snuggled back against Ransom's muscular body while he held you tightly against him. You could feel his heartbeat. Unusually fast.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" His brow furrowed and he groaned in annoyance. "All right, you little pain in the ass." He sat up and took both your hands in his.

"You know what day it is, don't you?" You didn't really know what he was getting at. "Um, it's Saturday? Is your mom expecting us? Are Biscoff cookies on sale? I don't know."

His gaze was gently on you and he couldn't suppress a smile. "Three years ago today, I hit you in the back of the car. And man, if I had known what a wonderful, lovely person had come into my life, I would have definitely made that accident on purpose. You bring out the best in me. You know my dysfunctional family and because of that I never thought I could honestly and truly love someone, but I do. I love you."

You wanted to say something back, but you were so moved by his words that you didn't even know what to say.

"I love you so so much," his grip tightened, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you and only you. And that's why I want to ask you," reaching behind him into the nightstand drawer, he pulled out a small red box covered in velvet, "if you would like to be my wife?"

The sight of the engagement ring took your breath away. The band was silver and thin, but the diamond set in it was all the larger and sparklier for it.

Your lower lip began to tremble. The proposal took you completely by surprise.

You never thought that Ransom would be ready to commit to you through marriage. Inevitably, you imagined your future together. A wedding. A house. Children. Growing old together.

Yes, that was what you wanted and no one else but Ransom should be by your side.

A squeeze of your hand brought you out of your thoughts. Ransom stared at you with an almost panicked look.

Did he really think you would say no? You jumped into his arms and clung to him. "Yes, yes, yes I do, you little moron." Tears made their way from your eyes down your cheeks and you heard Ransom's relieved exhale.

Who would have thought that a car accident could be the beginning of a love story?

[broken-clover]

AU-gust Day 21- Professional Rivals (Very, very late)

...yeah. I am. Very behind. But I’m trying to work on it

I wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret this prompt. I ended up going with something a bit superhero-esque again, but a lot more lighthearted than the last one, sort of inspired by Dr. Doofenschmirtz and Perry the Playpus. Nothing too dark or serious, just kind of dumb.

Sin let the weight of his body more than anything else push the door open to his apartment as soon as he felt the lock click. He managed to avoid stumbling over and hitting the carpet face-first, but only barely. At least he didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him in the state he was in. Though he did notice a pair of slip-ons by the door, which made his shoulders sag further with an emotion he didn’t have a word for.

“Hey, Mattie.” He called into the empty space, slumping against the door behind him. “I’m back.”

Soft footsteps echoed somewhere in the bathroom. “Sin? You’re home already?”

He managed to stand himself up again and take a few tentative steps, clinging onto the gash on his arm that had just barely begun to clot. “Yeah, ran out of tasks to do so they let me out early. Bridget on the night shift again?”

“No, he should be home in a few minutes, hence why I was so surprised it was you and not him.” Sin sat down on his bed and watched as the silhouette in the bathroom moved towards the doorframe. “He’s bringing pizza with him, though, so at least we have that to look forward-

The two of them paused in place, completely halted by the sight of each other’s state.

“...Wow.” They said, in perfect unison. “You look terrible.”

Sin ran a hand through his hair, immediately regretting it when he realized he was staining it with blood. “Hehe. Yeah, rough day at work today.”

“That looks remarkably painful.” Bedman limped over, a hand hovering over Sin’s cut arm. “You’re all scraped up...what happened?

++++++

Sin soared over the cityscape in a ball of lightning, sparks crackling off his skin in iridescent arcs. He wiped the blood running from his nose and tried to focus on the dark cloud hovering up ahead.

“You’re gonna have to hit harder than that to do me in, big guy!” He shouted over the rush of wind. With a few more sharp bursts, he was at eye-level with the peculiar contraption. “Brought a new toy today? Hope it’s sturdier than the one I trashed last week!”

His taunting was interrupted by a series of metallic clicks. A dozen or so little objects were ejected from the hovercraft, which unfolded into hovering metal discs that immediately began chasing after him.

“W-whoa- !” Sin shouted, barely managing to dodge their sharp blades.

“Don’t be getting cocky, dear Mr. Raiden!” A warped, mechanical voice resounded from the main machine. “You look so cute scared out of your mind!”

Sin grinned back at him. “Y’think I’m scared, Oneiroi?” He fired off another bolt, making one of them explode. “I’m just hoping these ones are an actual challenge this time!”

Heroics weren’t quite where he’d seen himself ending up, but he couldn’t have been happier. Saving the day, stopping the bad guy, and getting out a bit of extra energy. It wasn’t the most high-stakes hero town, he was the only one there, after all (and he couldn’t remember the last time Oneiroi had made a fully serious plan as far as he knew) but Sin was perfectly happy where he was.

Well, most of the time. In his distraction, a blade whizzed by, drawing blood and leaving a mark Sin didn’t even feel until a few moments later.

The remote drones immediately freezed in the air, bobbing harmlessly. “Oh- oh shit.” The electronic voice’s tone suddenly shifted, from aggrandizing and pompous to concerned. “That wasn’t supposed to do that. You okay?”

“Nggh- I’m fine.” He wasn’t done for the day, and he certainly wasn’t going to throw in the towel as soon as he’d gotten nicked! That was just pathetic, for both of them.

“Are you sure? I can give you a minute to sit down-”

Grinning under his mask, Sin grabbed the nearest drone and spun before hurling it right back at where it had come from, wreathed in electricity.

“Sit on this!”

++++++

“Bit of a funny story.” Replied Sin, grinning with a bit of cheek. “Was helping deliver another truckload of slate across the 4 & 15, and I guess they did a shitty job blowing up the tires or something, whole thing toppled right into some poor old lady’s backyard!”

His roommate seemed to find it much less funny, mouth opening in quiet shock before he uneasily sat down on the nearest bed.

“A car accident?? And you didn’t think to tell Bridget or I about this? Not even a text?!”

Sin threw up his hands, immediately wincing and going back to grabbing his arm. “Easy, man! I was fine, It wasn’t a big deal! Besides, you didn’t mention whatever happened to you.” He gestured to the other, a lot more carefully. “What’s with that ding on the back of your head? And why’s your wrist bandaged up?”

++++++

“DANGER. DANGER. SHIELD TAKING DAMAGE.”

“ -agh!” the projectile had managed to knock his ship’s gyroscope off a bit when it struck, throwing him into the far wall console. He winced at the sore, and not to mention wet spot on the back of his head when he went to touch it. He’d seen much worse, but it would definitely take a few days to heal.

He knew he was vulnerable, but a second hit didn’t come. “Uh, you okay in there?” A slightly muffled voice came through the speakers. “Too much?”

After making sure it hadn’t been damaged, Bedman patched through to the speaker system with his helmet. “Are you being facetious? That hardly scuffed my outer plating! You’re going to have to do better than that to damage- khh- ow-” He winced, immediately sitting back down as soon as he’d tried to prop himself up with his free hand. Had he twisted it? At least it wasn’t his writing arm…

“Seriously, need a breather?” The other said.

“N-no! I’m perfectly fine!” He managed to scrabble to his knees with one arm, clinging onto the control panel for support as he pulled himself up, panting with effort. He tried to grin wickedly. “But while you were distracted, Raiden, you have unwittingly lowered your guard! Take this!”

He slammed a fist down on one of the large, brightly-colored buttons (a bit cliche, but they were helpful for his astigmatism). The sound of rockets firing off was supposed to sound, but he found himself tilting his head at the silence.

“Uh...Oneiroi?” Raiden’s voice came through again. “Tech error?”

“No! No, I’m sure I just hit the wrong-” He smacked it again, but still nothing. “Um…”

A little sigh followed it. “Yeah, let’s- let’s take five, okay?”

++++++

“Well, erm, there was a bit of an incident down at the office.” He shrugged innocently. “Shiina asked me to refill the printer trays, and I thought it would be a good idea to bring the paper bundles up the stairs- you know, exercise and building muscle and all that- but I wasn’t as careful as I could have been, I suppose, and I...erm, fell down from the top step.”

Sin cringed. “Yikes. That’s gotta hurt. Definitely made a good call, wrapping it up.”

“And it looks like you should do the same.” Bedman walked off and came back with the first-aid kit and a wet washcloth, the latter of which he pressed against Sin’s arm. “Just sit still. So aside from that, was the rest of your day okay?”

“Yeah, totally, everything was fine. You?”

“I was having a bit of a rough patch, but I had a nice talk with one of the other coders, that was nice.”

“Oh, really?”

++++++

The front panel of the hovercraft had folded over into a neat little platform that now hosted a cooler and a foldout chair.

“You don’t drink, right? Lemon-Lime Fizz?” The villain asked, offering a can to his rival. Raiden continued to hover a few feet away, though in a perfectly comfortable lounge.

“Ooh, yeah, toss me that.” He cracked the can open as soon as it hit his fingers. “So what’s up? You seem out of it.”

Oneiroi tapped fingers on his helmet. “I guess I just feel a little off today. Didn’t expect you would notice.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, man! You’re my nemesis! I notice these things.”

He supposed that was true, and it was nice. He could remember nervously typing up a memo on Heroes4Villains.com (‘M25 evil engineer, coder and aspiring megalomaniac seeking monogamous hero rival, serious applicants only, please!) at a fellow villain’s behest. He’d never had a real nemesis, but he was happy having Raiden. A bit dense, but he was a skilled electromancer and he made for an excellent enemy to battle on a regular basis.

He thought a moment before speaking. “Am I not adequately menacing? I’m worried I’ve gotten...a bit out of practice, as it were.”

Raiden blinked in shock, before shaking his head and waving him down. “Nah, man! You’re totally menacing! Those new drones of yours were super scary!”

“You really thought so?”

“Yeah!”

“Maybe I should commit to the motif a bit more?” He pulled out a roll of blueprints and unfurled it. “I had a concept saved for an army of robotic sheep with laser eyes, but the outer casing was complicated and I wasn’t sure if it was too...what’s the word…’hokey?’ I’m no Terumi or anything but I’d like to avoid coming across as too silly, you know?”

“I get you, totally.” Raiden nodded. “I think a lot of villains aren’t into the whole ‘motif’ thing anymore, but I totally get wanting to have a theme. And those tend to be some of your most creative plots! Remember the time you flooded city hall with nightmare gas during the benefactor’s dinner? That was iconic!”

Oneiroi looked down at his blueprints again. “Perhaps I could give this model another go...I know I didn’t exactly have a whole plan thought out for next tuesday. Maybe I could use my laser sheep to kidnap the mayor…?"

The other man smiled in approval. “Sounds good to me! Mayor Whitefang sounded like he needed a break from desk work too, he could probably use another kidnapping-for-ransom. It’s been a while since you did that!”

As he went to say something, a light began to blink and beep on Oneiroi’s gauntlet. “I wasn’t expecting that to pop up so soon.”

“Got a call or something?”

“Promised I’d help another villain remodel their evil lair, I wanted to cancel but they couldn’t get anyone else to help out. Is it fine if I leave early?”

Raiden nodded again. “Sure, sure man, by all means. I get it. Uh, and this is why you never underestimate the power of the good guys?”

“Of course. Curse you, Raiden? I’ll beat you next time?”

++++++

“...Yeah. It was nice.”

“Well, guess it wasn’t that bad of a day after all!” Sin beamed, throwing his bandaged arm around his roommate’s shoulders as soon as he had finished. “And now, all we’ve gotta do is chillax and wait! Hopefully Bridget ‘ll be back soon with dinner.”

“I don’t suppose we would happen to be getting garlic knots, as well…?

“You know it!”

“Excellent.”

[constantlyirksome]

“Knives Out” Review: I Wanna Unravel Chris Evans’ Sweater With My Teeth.

I love a good mystery, but I’m also the kind of person who can’t just enjoy a good whodunit without feeling the need to guess every answer or needing to predict every twist. Knives Out was definitely full of twists, deceit, and murder, but there’s so much to look at and enjoy in this movie that you’re too invested to be constantly questioning and double guessing everything.

Firstly there is the stellar star-studded cast, all of whom chew up scenery in their own way with very distinct characters that play well off of each other. Have you ever played Clue? All the characters are so distinctly different, almost to the point of caricature, that’s what Knives Out is like, which is obviously perfect for the whodunit format. There’s powerful matriarch Linda, oldest child to the recently deceased Harlan, played by Jamie Lee Curtis, and Michael Shannon plays Walt, the youngest of Harlan’s children and the most off-putting of them all, with his neo-Nazi son. Tony Collette is hilarious as the vapid, hippy Joni, Harlan’s daughter in law who continues to mooch off of the family long after her husband's death. 

Chris Evans is Ransom, Harlan’s trust fund grandson and Linda’s son, who is so shit-eatingly smug you would forget Chris Evans ever played a superhero. And those are just half of a family full of deplorables that make the movie so entertaining. Rounding out the cast is Daniel Craig as the eccentric detective Blanc, and the stunning Ana de Armas as Harlan’s nurse, Marta.

Evans, Craig, and Armas are the standouts of the movie in a large cast of already great characters. At first, Daniel Craig’s VERY thick southern accent seems laughable, but as the movie progresses it becomes a soothing melody that carefully lays out the intricacies of the plot for the viewers. He’s equally intelligent and bizarre, going on wordy tangents about donuts and such. I was on the edge of my seat every time he would lay out new clues or threads.

 Chris Evans’ Ransom is equally as shitty as he is stunning, which is saying a LOT. For the whole movie, he looks like a professional sweater model. He’s almost absent for the first hour of the film, seen only strutting around in flashbacks, before becoming a key player in the story. You never trust a single word that drips from his sexy lips, even when he’s feigning kindness and sincerity. It’s a joy to watch him snicker, smirk, and mock the other characters. 

Ana de Armas is the movie's moral center, Marta, stunningly vulnerable but fiercely intelligent. It’s through her we learn about the families dirty laundry, and her friendship with the deceased Harlan is at the core of the movie, and she’s pulled into the action by Blanc, who sees her as the perfect Watson (she can’t lie without puking.) You desperately want this girl, daughter of an immigrant who supports her family, to best this big, entitled white family. She may not be the biggest name in the cast, but by the end, Ana de Armas leaves the biggest impression on you.

Of course, a murder mystery can’t rely on character alone, it has to have an interesting plot, a puzzle to be solved. Knives out does this well, albeit in a roundabout way, as Blanc tries to solve the murder of Harlan Thromby, who died seemingly of suicide, but was hired to prove otherwise. Everyone is a suspect, as Harlan spent his last night basically telling his family all the different ways they have disappointed him. There are plot pieces and bits of foreshadowing that all come together well when the truth is revealed, which is important. There’s nothing more annoying than a mystery with plot holes, or a clue that comes out of nowhere. Knives Out takes full advantage of every piece of evidence and story, and in that way it’s a very successful murder mystery. Any questions you might have while watching get answered eventually.

The whole film takes place in a GORGEOUS gothic estate on a lake, very on brand for a murder movie but still very visually stimulating and interesting. The music, twangy string music that perfectly matches the tension of the movie and makes the hair stand on the back of your neck, and the cinematography is both whimsical and creepy. Harlan’s big wall of knives that all point towards a chair he presumably sat in a lot mirror the films themes of absurdity and menace. Which knives are real? Who is the real monster? Director Rian Johnson doesn’t simply rely on the immense talent of his cast, he tells a gripping story both narratively and visually.

With all of this in mind, while enjoying the movie I couldn’t stop thinking about ripping Chris Evans’ sweater off thread by thread with my teeth, but that’s normal right?

[itsthesinbin]

I Want To Be Free (Yandere!Black Hat/FemReader SFW)

This is a commission for a user that wished to remain anonymous! I hope you enjoy it, friend.

Remember: My commissions are open! And my information can be viewed HERE!

Warning for: Kidnapping, possessive behavior, abuse, manipulative behavior, and implied brainwashing (near the end of the fic)

You had just wanted to go camping. That’s all you wanted. Just wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and just sit in the woods. Gaze at some deer. Eat some berries you thought were fine and then pass out in the middle of the woods because they were poisonous.

You know. Camping things.

What you didn’t account for was encountering robots patrolling the path.

When you heard the mechanical whirring, you ducked down behind a large bush. Did you walk into a logging zone? Is that illegal? You’re pretty sure that’s illegal.

Peeking over the bush, you found some… weird robots. The signature top hats, though, tipped off who the hell these robots belonged to.

You paled, trying to silently back away from the group of patrolling bots. Your mind raced, wondering what the hell they were doing out here.

Why would Black Hat need to send his bots out into the middle of the woods? Looking for a place to dump a body- or multiple bodies? Does he need those poisonous berries you thought about earlier to make a poison? Was he looking for a captive? A potential ransom target?

Well, you weren’t getting kidnapped today, boy!

You began to back up, hoping to remain undetected by the robots. Of course, luck wasn’t on your side as you slammed your foot into every single fallen stick, and dry leaf, in the forest.

You froze, looking back towards the bots. They were all looking at you, monocles glowing a bright red.

“Target found,” they all echoed, before beginning to advance on you. You let out a pathetic whimper, instead of the scream you wanted, before turning tail and sprinting away.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you heard them chase after you. Why the hell do they want you? You’re no one special. You work in an office making coffee, for crying out loud! You don’t have money, your friends and family don’t have any either. There’s no point!

Are you going to be an experiment? Test subject? God, you really hope not. You like everything intact and in place, as it is.

Lost in your thoughts, your leg got caught in a small, abandoned burrow. Your ankle twisted, making you let out a scream as you fell. Pulling your injured leg out, you were forced into a hypothetical corner as the robots approached.

One of them reached out, picking you up with long metal arms. Its’ torso opened, revealing a hollow inside, and you were shoved into its’ chest cavity. The cage-like door shut, leaving you trapped in its’ body.

Panic rising, you rattled the door in an attempt to dislodge it. You screamed, begging to be let out.

“Please- let me go! I don’t know what you want from me, but I don’t have anything you’d need!” Of course, Black Hat, himself, wasn't listening. There was no way to convince these robots to let you out.

You were being taken to Black Hat’s manor. You were going to die there.

Slowly, you stopped struggling in your cage. God… you were being captured by Black Hat. You were actually going to die. Or, at the very least, you’ll never see your family again. You were… really going to be kidnapped.

The trip through the woods was long, leaving you to go through three of the five stages of grief in a short amount of time. In reality, you’ll be depressed for a long time, though.

After what seemed like hours, you finally arrived in the backyard of Hat Manor. It…. it really was a giant top hat, like people said it was. That was… kinda stupid. It must be really fortified to keep people from coming after him.

The robots dipped in through what seemed to be a garage, but it led down into some underground network. The only light came from the menacing red monocles of the robots, barely illuminating the concrete halls. You saw deep scratches in the cement, and you decided not to think about whatever the fuck could make those.

You had to shield your eyes when you finally arrived to your designation. It was a bright lab, and you were dumped onto the floor. You whined in pain as you landed on your injured leg, barely hearing the footsteps that came towards you.

You looked up, staring into the goggles of a man with a bag on his head. Black Hat’s personal scientist- Doctor Flug.

The doctor stared down at you, eyes widening before angrily glaring at the robots.

“What the hell did you all do?! She’s a mess! Boss is gonna dismantle ALL of us!” The robots, unaware of whatever trouble they could possibly be in, began to file out of the room. Flug groaned, before calling over two others robots. They were more feminine, but still modeled after the leader of the manor. That was… extremely creepy.

“You’ll be washed, and your wounds treated. You’ll also get new clothes.” You were lifted up by the new bots, making you struggle.

“What’s going on,” you croaked, new tears spilling. Flug paused, letting out a small huff.

“You’ll figure it out,” he mumbled, sending the bots off to clean you. You struggled, screaming and begging, once again, to be released. The cold, mechanical women dragging you down the hall paid you no mind as they burst into a bathroom.

You were stripped naked, your clothes immediately incinerated by one of the robots. You were then dumped into still-hot water, and the robots got to work on you.

One cleaned off your injured leg, applying some kind of salve to your ankle. The other one brushed through your hair, pulling out twigs and leaves. You were forcibly washed, skin scrubbed raw by rough robotic hands.

When your skin was red and your scalp felt like it was burning, you were pulled out of the bath. A soft towel rubbed at your sensitive skin, and your hair was being blow-dried.

You stared at the wall, mind now numbed from the stress and fear. All you could think of is how you were going to die here. You’d never go back to your stupid job and go home to watch tv. You’re just… done for.

You were put into new clothes- as well as new underwear. That was highly unsettling, as they knew you were exact size bra and panties. You were also dressed in new clothing, much darker than your normal attire. And also… weirdly revealing. Cleavage was on display, and the skirt was short enough to make you nervous. You were given comfortable shoes, thankfully, to support your injured ankle.

Silently, you were pulled out of the bathroom again. Your hair was styled on the way- pulled back and pinned in a bun. You were taken back to the lab, and the robots left as soon as the door shut behind you all.

You refused to look at Flug as he examined you. You felt so exposed. So humiliated. You wanted to go home.

“There- much better. Boss’ll be happy.” Your gaze snapped up to him.

“What the FUCK is going on,” you snapped, reaching forward to grab his collar. He wasn’t fazed at all, merely pulling your hands off of his coat.

“Look, I’m just here to make sure you weren’t dead upon arrival. 505’ll take you to his office,” he said dismissively, all but waving you off as a big blue… bear… came into the lab. It let out a happy noise in greeting, before grabbing your hand gently. The only thing that’s shown you any kinda care since you stepped in here is a giant mutated bear. How fun.

You were led out of the lab again, this time being taken past the bathroom and further into the building. You didn’t bother trying to ask the bear for help. You could tell he didn’t… speak english. He could clearly understand it, but you knew he couldn’t help you.

505 stopped outside of an office, patting you on the back with a sympathetic smile. You gave him a pleading look, tears brimming your eyes again. His smile faltered, before he hurried down the hall. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling cold and alone.

The door creaked open. You tensed up, frozen in place.

The monster, himself, sat at a large desk. Hands steepled, he grinned menacingly when you saw you. A mysterious force dragged you into the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

You were forced into a chair on the other side of his desk, a small yelp leaving you as you were pulled down into the leather. You kept your arms across yourself, looking at the villain in fear. His impossibly wide grin seemed to grow even more.

“Welcome home,” he finally said, making a cold, icy fear spread through your body. You swallowed, trying to find your voice.

“What-” you coughed through the voice crack- “what do… do you mean?” He leaned back, tapping his cane against the side of his chair.

“Did I stutter, my dear? I said “welcome home”.” His smile fell slightly, a little annoyed he had to repeat himself.

“Why… say that,” you asked, voice growing more quiet out of terror. His grin returned to full size, standing. He walked around to your side of the desk, turning your chair to face him. You pressed back into the chair in an attempt to get away from him.

“I’ve been watching you for a while. I could see your potential being wasted in that… boring office,” he drawled, standing to his full height again. He smiled down at you.

“Something about you was calling to me. I believe you’re an… old mate of mine, reincarnated. They always loved playing hard to get- what better way to do that than bind yourself to the will of the universe?” He moved again, heading towards the window. You watched him, curious and scared.

“I happened to find you while my bots were on patrol- saw you walking home from that little cafe you love so much. I could tell, right away, that you had something about you that made me want to keep watching you.” He stared out the window, before looking back over his shoulder to see you.

“Having you here… I know your power. And I intend to keep you, this time.” Despite your mind yelling at you not to show weakness, new tears escaped your eyes.

“There has to be some mistake-” He slammed his cane down, turning to you quickly. Your jaw clicked shut, hurting your teeth, as he glared at you. Any amusement he had in his gaze was gone, and his mouth was curled into a snarl.

“You think I make mistakes? Especially ones of this calibre,” he growled, stalking back over to you.

“I know magic, and the Old Power. And you have that. And now…” his grin returned once again, predatory and hungry. It made you sick.

“You’re mine.” He grabbed your chin, leaning down and forcing a kiss from you.

You tried to push him away, but he wasn’t budging. His tongue snaked into your mouth, making you gag. FInally, he moved away to let you breathe. You coughed, feeling bile sting the back of your throat. Thankfully, you didn’t throw up on his shoes. You don’t think he would’ve appreciated that.

He grabbed your hand in a faux-gentlemanly manner, before yanking you up. You stumbled, falling against him. He gave out a chuckle, pulling you out of the room.

“I’ll show you to your room. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the decor,” he all but purred, ignoring the way you struggled and tried to break free of his grip. You knew it was no use- this man was way too strong for any mortal- but you couldn’t help but try. It’s just human nature to try and survive. To be free.

God, you were never going to be free again.

You stopped in front of a large door, labeled with your name on it. Your full name. How much did he actually fucking know about you?

He opened the door, leading you inside. It… was your room. From your house. Right down the smallest trinket. He even had your pictures copied and framed in the exact same frames.

He let your hand go, and you turned to face him. Momentarily, you forgot who you were with.

“What the hell is your problem, you freak,” you screeched, and he reeled back slightly.

“You stalk me, kidnap me, and now you’ve done THIS? What’s wrong with you?!” It was silent for a solid twenty seconds- long enough for you to remember who you were speaking with. Your face morphed from anger to fear, taking shaky, limping steps backwards.

“Please- I-” A deep, demonic growl left him. His hand shot to your throat, ignoring your wheezing as he dragged you forward.

“Do NOT think you can get away with talking to me like that, human,” he snarled, his voice taking on a tone that made your head hurt. His body morphed, eyes straining as your mind struggled to process the way his form was taking shape.

“I may have shown you pity by doing this for you, but do not think I am some weak fool who will bend over backwards for his mate.” He shoved you back, making you fall to the ground. You coughed harshly, regaining the air that was stolen from you.

“Now. You will stay in here until you know your damn PLACE,” he screeched, leaving the room and slamming it shut behind himself.

You stayed on the floor, shaking like a leaf, for five minutes. You did nothing else but stare at the door, wondering if he was going to come back in here and beat you within an inch of your life.

Thankfully, he never did.

You finally stood, stumbling over to the door. Your ankle throbbed in protest, but your adrenaline kept you going. You grabbed the handle, panicking as you tried to force the door open.

“Please, please, please,” you hiccupped, a childish part of you hoping that saying please would get the door open. Of course, it didn’t relent. It stayed locked, mocking you with the slight give the door had when you pulled at the knob.

You, eventually, stopped and slid to your knees. You sobbed at the door, before covering your face in shame and anger. You couldn’t believe this. Trapped with a psychopathic asshole who thinks you’re his… mate.

God, you felt absolutely sick.

You ended up falling asleep on the floor, too tired and upset to move.

Three days passed before Black Hat finally let you out. You lost the fight so quickly, Black Hat was almost bored. But, he was determined to shape you into the mate he desired.

When the door opened, you blearily stared at the dark creature standing in your doorway. You didn’t bother getting out of bed- if he wanted you out, he’ll have to drag you out.

Which, he did.

Tendrils sprouted from the shadows, yanking you out of the bed and onto your feet. You were clad in the pajamas that appeared in your drawers the first night you were brought here. You were tired of wearing those revealing clothes. At least he gave you comfortable pajamas that weren’t showing off every piece of skin you had.

Black Hat assessed your appearance, frowning slightly.

“This won’t do,” he grunted. “Eat dinner, then one of the drones will come in here to dress you appropriately.” You frowned as he turned to leave.

“For what,” you growled. He paused, having to process the idea that you actually got angry with him. He sneered at you over his shoulder.

“We are having a party soon. You will be on your best behavior. If you are, I’ll let you roam the manor freely. Am I understood?” You were quiet. He turned to face you, growling deeply.

“Am. I. Understood?” Definitely, stupidly, you stayed quiet. He stormed towards you, gripping your arm hard enough to bruise.

“If I ask you a question, you answer me. Got it?” Your angry glare faltered, your fear shining through.

“... Fine,” you spat, yanking your arm back when he let go. He growled slightly, eyeing the spot where he was holding you.

“Now you’ll need a long sleeve instead of the cocktail I had in mind,” he huffed, leaving the room. The door slammed shut, making you flinch.

You ate some of the food 505 brought you, not even trying to beg him to let you out today. You knew it would lead nowhere.

An hour after dinner, the bots came in. Once again, you were forcibly undressed and put in clothes you really didn’t want to wear. Sure, the dress was pretty and the shoes were comfortable, but… they weren’t your choice. None of this was your choice.

When your makeup and hair was done, the bots left. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal, but this time… they left the door open. You stared at the open door, wondering if this was a test. You heard people already in main hall of the manor. The party was starting, and Black Hat was probably greeting the early guests.

He wasn’t here, yet, to get you.

Should you even try? No doubt he has cameras all over the place. If he has access to them at all times, he’ll see you.

You feel like you’d die either way, but at least if you do this… you’ll die having a chance at freedom.

You took your heels off- in the off-chance you need to fight, they COULD be weapons- and began padding through the halls. There had to be some kind exit you could get out through. You wished you could’ve crawled out through your window, but the window in your room was completely locked. There was no way to try and unlock it. Trust you, you’ve tried for a while.

You checked various rooms carefully, not wanting to find Black Hat sitting in the dark like a dumb cartoon villain. When you finally found one that had a window, you let out a breath of relief.

You tested the window. It was heavy, but it was unlocked. You heaved, using all of your strength to push the old window open. Footsteps coming from the hall almost made you drop the damn thing on your fingers.

You turned, seeing Flug entering the open door. Fuck, you knew you should’ve closed it.

The two of you stared each other down, neither one of you willing to move first. No one breathed, until Flug finally took a step towards you.

“Just… step away from the window,” he said slowly, hands coming up as if to try and placate you. You took a shuddering breath, a mascara-filled tear slipping down your cheek.

“Please,” you whispered. “Just let me leave.” Flug was quiet. You hoped he was considering letting you leave.

Then, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a remote. You didn’t know what it did, but with how many robots were in this place… you had an idea.

Before he could press the button, you sprung into action. With a cry of effort, you launched yourself out of the window. Thankfully, you were on the first floor, so you only landed with mild discomfort. Flug ran over to the window, just in time to see you scurrying towards the wooded area behind the neighborhood the manor was located. He sighed heavily.

“Boss isn’t gonna be happy about this,” Flug mumbled, knowing he’d get an earful, before pressing the button.

You heard an alarm come from the manor, and you forced yourself to run faster. You tried to regulate your breathing, knowing if you began hyperventilating you’d just pass out.

You can do this. You can escape. You can do this!

You got into the treeline right as the robots were released, just in time to avoid the lights trying to find you.

You didn’t stop, though. You knew they would look for you. You had to keep running.

You don’t know how long you ran, but you couldn’t feel your legs by the time you stopped. Your legs shook wildly, barely allowing you to walk. But, you couldn’t stop now. Not when you can hear Black Hat screaming at the lifeless machines to find you.

You knew your makeup was ruined, the sticky residue left making you severely uncomfortable. Your dress was torn from briars and low branches, leaving parts of your skin exposed to the elements. You felt blood seep into the torn fabric from scratches and cuts, and only hoped you could find a way to clean them before they got infected.

Finally, you found a small cave opening nearly covered by a downed tree and fallen leaves. You looked back, seeing no one was nearby to see you go in. There were faint lights, showing the bots were on your tail, but… maybe you could hide from them for a while.

You managed to squeeze past the fallen tree, batting away cobwebs and crawling into the cave. It wasn’t big, but it was enough. Hurriedly, you recovered the fallen leaves.

Opening covered, you crawled into the farthest corner and curled up into the smallest ball possible. You were pressing your knees so tightly to your chest that you could barely breathe, but you didn’t dare move.

The next minute or so was spent trying to control your breathing. The closer the whirring bots and yelling got, the more you wanted to begin bawling. You knew that any noise meant you were dead.

You could hear them right outside the cave, and silently clasped a hand over your mouth. You forced yourself to breathe slowly, staring up at the cave opening with wide, terrified eyes.

You were a cornered, injured rabbit, forced to face the starving wolf. And you had no idea whether you’d be able to run again, once he found you.

It felt like hours of them searching around, no doubt finding traces of your blood nearby and knowing the trail ended around here. Your entire body shook, and your occupied hand gripped the heels that you didn’t dare let go of. You knew they wouldn’t do anything, but having any kind of defense was better than your bare fists.

If he grabbed you, you were going to try and take out an eye in retaliation.

Finally, the bots began to move on. You heard some kind of… sickening squelching, mixed with demonic snarling, that followed after the mechanical whirring. You didn’t even think about wanting to see what form that monster had taken, while searching for you.

You didn’t trust yourself not to start crying, so you stayed perfectly still. You remained in that position until you were cramping, and even then you didn’t leave the corner you sat in. No way you were going to get pounced on the moment you left the cave.

You didn’t know when you dozed off, but when you finally woke again, you saw sunlight streaming in. You shifted, feeling the blanket shifting over you-.

Wait…

The memories of last night crashed back to you, and your eyes popped open. Instantly awake, you found yourself back in your room. You panted heavily, feeling panic rising.

Was… was all of that a dream? You looked over yourself, finding yourself in your favorite set of pajamas. You checked yourself for injuries, finding nothing. Not even your previously-sore ankle was hurting anymore.

Did… you seriously dream all of that? There was no way…

Footsteps approached your door, and you looked up. Maybe it… was your roommate?

When the door opened, your heart jumped into your throat, and tears instantly fell from your eyes.

Black Hat stood in the doorway, a sickening grin on his face.

“You had me so worried,” he drawled, clearly enjoying the fear he could sense in you. He strolled closer, the door shutting behind him. He set his cane against your bed, leaning down and grabbing your chin.

“You ruined the engagement party I had ready for you, you know? All those guests, forced to leave early because you got cold feet,” he said, grin slipping into a sneer and voice dropping to a growl. His hand moved, grabbing your neck.

It burned. It actually burned. Even when he pulled his hand away, the burn continued- only getting worse. You wheezed, screaming as you felt your skin scar over.

“There. That brand should keep you from leaving again. And… think of it as an engagement ring, my dear,” he purred, giving you a forceful kiss before leaving once again. The door slammed shut, locking into place.

With shaking legs, you hurried over, banging on the door.

“LET ME OUT,” you screeched, voice cracking and desperate. You sobbed and wailed, clawing at the door until your nails were split and your fingers were bleeding.

You dropped to the ground when you couldn’t feel your fingers anymore, staring at the wall and trying to breathe. You didn’t react when a nurse bot wheeled in to patch up your bleeding hands. You just stared, barely paying attention as an intercom turned on.

“Now… time to turn you into the bride I’ve been looking for,” Black Hat’s voice crackled through the speaker. White noise began playing, and you heard some kind of… strange, demonic voice in the background. Every time you tried to listen to it, it got harder and harder to understand.

You began to cry again, body shaking and chest tight.

You were going to die here. And a new you was going to live on, in your place.

You wished her the best of luck.

[crimethinc]

War is Already Here: It's Just Not Very Evenly Distributed

"The future is already here," Cyberpunk pioneer William Gibson once said; "it's just not very evenly distributed." Over the intervening decades, many people have repurposed that quote to suit their needs. Today, in that tradition, we might refine it thus: War is already here—it's just not very evenly distributed.

Never again will the battlefield be just state versus state; it hasn't been for some time. Nor are we seeing simple conflicts that pit a state versus a unitary insurgent that aspires to statehood. Today's wars feature belligerents of all shapes and sizes: states (allied and non-allied), religious zealots (with or without a state), local and expatriate insurgents, loyalists to former or failing or neighboring regimes, individuals with a political mission or personal agenda, and agents of chaos who benefit from the instability of war itself. Anyone or any group of any size can go to war.

The increased accessibility of the technology of disruption and war1 means the barrier to entry is getting lower all the time. The structure of future wars will sometimes feel familiar, as men with guns murder children and bombs level entire neighborhoods—but it will take new forms, too. Combatants will manipulate markets and devalue currencies. Websites will be subject to DDoS attacks and disabling—both by adversaries and by ruling governments. Infrastructure and services like hospitals, banks, transit systems, and HVAC systems will all be vulnerable to attacks and interruptions.

In this chaotic world, in which new and increasing threats ceaselessly menace our freedom, technology has become an essential battlefield. Here at the CrimethInc. technology desk, we will intervene in the discourse and distribution of technological know-how in hopes of enabling readers like you to defend and expand your autonomy. Let's take a glance at the terrain.

Privacy

The NSA listens to, reads, and records everything that happens on the internet.

Amazon, Google, and Apple are always listening2 and sending some amount3 of what they hear back to their corporate data centers4. Cops want that data. Uber, Lyft, Waze, Tesla, Apple, Google, and Facebook know your whereabouts and your movements all of the time. Employees spy on users.

Police5 want access to the contents of your phone, computer, and social media accounts—whether you're a suspected criminal, a dissident on a watch list, or an ex-wife.

The business model of most tech companies is surveillance capitalism. Companies learn everything possible about you when you use their free app or website, then sell your data to governments, police, and advertisers. There's even a company named Palantir, after the crystal ball in The Lord of the Rings that the wizard Saruman used to gaze upon Mordor—through which Mordor gazed into Saruman and corrupted him.6 Nietzsche's famous quote, "When you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you," now sounds like a double transcription error: surely he didn't mean abyss, but app.

Security

Heat map of a massive DDoS attack on a DNS provider that disabled several major websites

Self-replicating malware spreads across Internet of Things (IoT) devices like "smart" light bulbs and nanny cams, conscripting them into massive botnets. The people who remotely control the malware then use these light bulbs and security cameras to launch debilitating DDoS7 attacks against DNS providers, reporters, and entire countries.

Hackers use ransomware to hold colleges, hospitals, and transit systems hostage. Everything leaks, from nude photos on celebrities' phones to the emails of US political parties.

Capital

21st century robber barons at Trump's tech summit, December 14, 2017

Eight billionaires combined own as much wealth as the poorest 50% of the world's population. Four of those eight billionaires are tech company founders.8 Recently, the President of the United States gathered a group of executives to increase collaboration between the tech industry and the government.9

The tech industry in general, and the Silicon Valley in particular, has a disproportionately large cultural influence. The tech industry is fundamentally tied to liberalism and therefore to capitalism. Even the most left-leaning technologists aren't interested in addressing the drawbacks of the social order that has concentrated so much power in their hands.10

War

Programming: war by other means.

Nation states are already engaging in cyber warfare. Someone somewhere11 has been learning how to take down the internet.

Tech companies are best positioned to create a registry of Muslims and other targeted groups. Even if George W. Bush and Barack Obama hadn't already created such lists and deported millions of people, if Donald Trump (or any president) wanted to create a registry for roundups and deportations, all he'd have to do is go to Facebook. Facebook knows everything about you.

The Obama administration built the largest surveillance infrastructure ever—Donald Trump's administration just inherited it. Liberal democracies and fascist autocracies share the same love affair with surveillance. As liberalism collapses, the rise of autocracy coincides with the greatest technical capacity for spying in history, with the least cost or effort. It's a perfect storm.

This brief overview doesn't even mention artificial intelligence (AI), machine learning, virtual reality (VR), augmented reality (AR), robots, the venture capital system, or tech billionaires who think they can live forever with transfusions of the blood of young people.

Here at the tech desk, we'll examine technology and its effects from an anarchist perspective. We'll publish accessible guides and overviews on topics like encryption, operational security, and how to strengthen your defenses for everyday life and street battles. We'll zoom out to explore the relation between technology, the state, and capitalism—and a whole lot more. Stay tuned.

If you have a story to tell or a skill to teach, get in touch.

Welcome.

A surplus of AK-47s. Tanks left behind by U.S. military. Malware infected networked computer transformed into DDoS botnets. Off the shelf ready to execute scripts to attack servers. ↩︎

Amazon Echo / Alexa. Google with Google Home. Apple with Siri. Hey Siri, start playing music. ↩︎

What, how much, stored for how long, and accessible by whom are all unknown to the people using those services. ↩︎

Unless you are a very large company, "data center" means someone else's computer sitting in someone else's building. ↩︎

Local beat cops and police chiefs, TSA, Border Patrol, FBI… all the fuckers. ↩︎

Expect to read more about Palantir and others in a forthcoming article about surveillance capitalism. ↩︎

Distributed Denial of Service. More on this in a later article, as well. ↩︎

Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Ellison. In fact, if you count Michael Bloomberg as a technology company, that makes five. ↩︎

In attendance: Eric Trump. Brad Smith, Microsoft president and chief legal officer. Jeff Bezos, Amazon founder and CEO. Larry Page, Google founder and Alphabet CEO. Sheryl Sandberg, Facebook COO. Mike Pence. Donald Trump. Peter Thiel, venture capitalist. Tim Cook, Apple CEO. Safra Catz, Oracle CEO. Elon Musk, Tesla CEO. Gary Cohn, Goldman Sachs president and Trump's chief economic adviser. Wilbur Ross, Trump's commerce secretary pick. Stephen Miller, senior policy adviser. Satya Nadella, Microsoft CEO. Ginni Rometty, IBM CEO. Chuck Robbins, Cisco CEO. Jared Kushner, investor and Trump's son-in-law. Reince Priebus, chairman of the Republican National Committee and White House chief of staff. Steve Bannon, chief strategist to Trump. Eric Schmidt, Alphabet president. Alex Karp, Palantir CEO. Brian Krzanich, Intel CEO. ↩︎

We'll explore this more in a later article about "The California Ideology." ↩︎

Probably a state-level actor such as Russia or China. ↩︎

[hellosaltysaladcollectionstuff]

“ALL IRAQIS WILL READILY agree that their life has always been noir,” says editor Samuel Shimon in his introduction to Baghdad Noir, one of the two latest volumes in Akashic Books’s globe-spanning “Noir” series (the other being Marrakech Noir, edited by Yassin Adnan and released on the same day, although covering cities at the opposite ends of the Arab world). But while the oppression and violence that have marked Iraq’s recent history furnish plenty of grimness for the mood associated with noir fiction and film, the genre is distinctly American in origin, from black-and-white Hollywood movies of sin and betrayal to Philip Marlowe’s jaded outlook on human nature. As Shimon points out in his introduction, the Iraqi authors he approached were less directly familiar with the genre, and Baghdad Noir is the first collection of Iraqi crime fiction that he is aware of. [1] So, tasked with commissioning the 14 stories included in this volume, he arranged to translate into Arabic a story by the late Maggie Estep that was published in Akashic’s early Queens Noir collection, and sent the translation to the writers as a model of noir style to follow.

As a result, the contributors have found ways to make this genre their own. What is surprising here is the breadth of settings and eras for these stories, ranging from 1950, during the relatively stable period of the Hashemite monarchy, through the paranoid years of Ba’athist rule, the sanctions era of the 1990s, and the violent years after 2003, up to the more recent threat of terrorism embodied by Daesh’s (ISIS) draconian rule over Iraq’s north.

Ten of the authors represented here are Iraqi; the other four are American, Iranian, Tunisian, and Lebanese. Shimon has managed to secure stories from some of the most prominent Iraqi authors now writing, such as Ahmed Saadawi, Sinan Antoon, Muhsin al-Ramli, and Ali Bader. Of the four women writers in the book, only two are Iraqi: it would have been interesting to see prominent Iraqi women writers like Inaam Kachachi or Dunya Mikhail try their hand at noir. I was unfamiliar with several of these contributors, and it speaks to their talents that these stories piqued my interest to track down their full-length novels.

Noir is a broad category — it may refer primarily to a story’s general mood, or it can refer to specific plot elements. For this collection, some of the contributors wrote their noir as stories of murder and the search for a killer. Muhsin al-Ramli, perhaps best known for his 2012 novel Hada’iq al-Ra’is (published in English as The President’s Gardens), opens the collection with a whodunit set in an apartment building in Baghdad during the American occupation. It begins with the discovery of a murdered young woman in the courtyard of the building, which has been locked down after the night’s curfew. It’s a classic closed environment as the house’s occupants eye each other warily, knowing that the killer must be among them. Al-Ramli has a flair for evoking urban squalor (the neighborhood carries “smoke from piles of putrid, smoldering garbage mixed with the scent of grilled meat and spices”) and corruption (the police are “good for nothing except taking bribes”), while the story peels back the layers of lust, politics, and mixed motives that lead to murder.

The Iraqi authorities in general, and Baghdad’s police specifically, don’t come off well in this collection, being either ineffectual or actively criminal, as in Mohammed Alwan Jabr’s compelling “Room 22,” a tense account of a man bringing a suitcase full of ransom money to a hotel room in order to pay off his young nephew’s kidnappers, only to discover a greater web of religious and official corruption behind the abduction. One exception to this dim view of law enforcement is Salima Salih’s compact “The Apartment,” in which a dogged police inspector, Naji Nassar, investigates the brutal murder of an old lady at her home. Even here, though, the story closes not on the arrest of the guilty party, but just a world-weary acknowledgment that this is “just another day in Baghdad.”

The identity of the killer is more elusive in the excellent “Empty Bottles” by novelist Hussain al-Mozany, who died shortly after completing this story. Set in the 1950s working-class neighborhood of al-Thawra City (now since renamed Sadr City), it begins with a gruesome “honor killing” committed at dawn, witnessed by the 12-year-old narrator’s mother. The killing becomes an obsession with al-Mozany’s narrator, who comes to a disturbing realization about why honor killings are so prevalent among the poor: “A feeling struck me like a thunderbolt that honor was the only wealth the poor had…” In his morbid imagination, the killer transforms into a monster of folklore, a djinn known as the tantal that kidnaps children in the night. Al-Mozany’s story focuses our attention on the ongoing impact of violence, rippling out from the past in unexpected ways. The narrator didn’t even witness the murder himself, but it becomes a permanent rupture in his later life, making him, as he says, “an indirect victim of its savagery.”

Another standout in this collection is Ali Bader’s “Baghdad House,” which is set in 1950 and features a middle-class, educated protagonist. The story’s milieu is vastly different from the rest of the book, given the political and social changes Iraq has witnessed since 1950 — the overthrow of the monarchy in the late 1950s, the subsequent political assassinations and coups culminating in the Ba’athist coup in 1968, followed by the ascendancy of Saddam (itself a kind of internal coup), and the years of war, sanctions, and occupation that followed. In Bader’s contribution, an accountant for an automotive company is temporarily transferred from Basra to the company’s Baghdad office to replace two colleagues who have successively gone missing. Both of his vanished predecessors had been residents at the same upscale lodging house, Baghdad House, where he, too, is assigned to stay. On his first day there, one of its longtime residents, a Persian woman, is murdered, and the accountant finds himself becoming a detective, uncovering a sordid demimonde of upper-crust Baghdad. Even more than others in this collection, this narrative — a clear homage to Agatha Christie’s mysteries — seems like a novel in miniature that could easily have been expanded. Bader has already proven himself adept with historical settings, and if he ever chose to write a full-length mystery novel set in 1950s Baghdad, I would jump at the chance to read it.

Noir can also draw on the darker recesses of human psychology, on madness and unreliable narrators that pull the rug out from under the reader. Of the stories that took that route, the foremost is Sinan Antoon’s excellent “Jasim’s File,” which is based on a true incident involving the mass escape of mental patients from Baghdad’s al-Rashad Hospital when the Americans invaded. “The Americans kind of liberated me,” says the protagonist, Jasim, as he flees the mental ward and returns to his family home during the chaos of April 2003. Living in his family’s empty home, Jasim falls into working with a friend who has joined the Badr Brigade, a military faction formed by Iran during the Iran-Iraq War, with the express purpose of encouraging an Iranian-style Islamic revolution in Iraq. The story concludes with an ironic reveal after we have learned that Jasim has graduated to assassinations. Jasim’s story replays in miniature the devastation of the 2003 occupation that gave free rein to social disorder and allowed criminal behavior to drift easily into terrorism.

Dheya al-Khalidi’s “Getting to Abu Nuwas Street” has a great noir opening, one that wouldn’t seem out of place in a Chandler novel (“I come to in the morning, and see that I’m in an abandoned metal shop. Tied up.”). Al-Khalidi’s 2012 novel al-Qutla (The Killers) is set during the violent years after 2003, and this kicker of a story conveys some of the same flavor, but featuring a narrator with fuzzy memories of the events that led to his capture. The American troops may have withdrawn in 2009, but Baghdad’s violence remains: “American soldiers used to command Baghdad’s nights — their Humvees roaring, keeping us awake and afraid. Then the night’s custody switched over to our Iraqi brownness — bullets flying freely — even for a riled cat or a hungry dog.” Here, nighttime Baghdad has a particular menace, a city strangely desolate of humans after curfew and shrouded in blackness. The story is saturated with the narrator’s memories — such as his nostalgia for happier times, which led him to break curfew to try and reach Abu Nuwas park the night before — even though memory itself, like the titular park the narrator can never reach, becomes elusive, slippery, and leading to danger.

“Post-Traumatic Stress Reality in Qadisiya,” by the Lebanese-born author Hadia Said, concerns an increasingly paranoid protagonist, Amin, who is looking to regain the right to his family’s long-abandoned home in the Qadisiya district. He is desperate to find the title deed and key to the house, which his dying grandmother had given to him. The story veers between Amin’s memories of the past and his hallucinatory present reality. The spectral appearance of long-dead family members makes this a ghost story — particularly given the ending, which suggests that Amin himself may be the one who is dead and buried.

Two stories revolve around the noirish trope of characters with a death wish, fueled by regrets about their own past crimes. The first is “A Sense of Remorse” by Ahmed Saadawi — best known to English-language readers for his novel Frankenstein in Baghdad, a finalist for the 2018 Man Booker International Prize — in which a police investigator looks into the mysterious death of his alcoholic older brother. His brother’s suicide leads him to uncover his brother’s Ba’athist past, a charlatan who once made amulets that claimed to help recruits escape military service, and a poison that only kills those who are incapable of feeling remorse. The revelations about the brother offer a disturbing insight into the way power corrupts and gives license to cruelty:

I want to feel remorse […] to cry about the terrible things I did, but it looks like I’m hopeless. I’m a demon, and I’ll admit to you right now that I enjoyed doing what I did. It was fun. It gave me an amazing sense of power and control. Is that what a normal person would say?

Salar Abdoh’s “Baghdad on Borrowed Time” also features a character with a death wish. Of all the stories in the collection, Abdoh’s hews most closely to the tropes of traditional noir and explicitly references American noir fiction. The protagonist is a Tehran-based private investigator whose clients always insist on bringing up Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler with him. This Iranian PI — who was once a POW held by Iraq — is hired by an Iraqi client who wants him to find a killer (“a serial killer with a purpose”) who has murdered a string of middle-aged men in Baghdad. The client, as we learn, is a veteran of the Badr Brigade, who lived for years in exile in Iran and only returned to Iraq after 2003.

Each of the victims is a former Iraqi soldier who had spent time occupying part of Iran. The murderer is somehow tracking down the former soldiers and taking three-decades-old revenge on people who are otherwise strangers to him. The investigator realizes he is being asked to solve murders that no one cares about, in a city already teeming with violence and bloodshed, for a client with no seeming connection to the crime. In a twist, the culprit begs the investigator to catch him and then brings him along to witness his final murder and his suicide, all in time for the investigator to catch his midnight flight back home to Tehran. As with Saadawi’s story, a character’s grief dates back to the Iran-Iraq War, a pointed reminder of the impact that that prolonged conflict had on the people of both countries, long before Operation Iraqi Freedom was a glint in Dick Cheney’s eye.

Two other authors, Layla Qasrany and Hayet Raies, mine the climate of paranoia that characterized Ba’athist Iraq for their stories, which are both set in the late 1970s. Hayet Raies was born in Tunisia but did her master’s degree at Baghdad University, an experience that informs the tense setting of “The Fear of Iraqi Intelligence,” as a female university student negotiates the disappearance of her roommate. The palpable presence of the authoritarian state is unmistakable, and Raies effectively conveys the fear it invoked, such as students monitoring their private dorm-room conversations lest their closest friends turn out to be government informers. The atmosphere is stifling even for relatively privileged foreign students, and even if Raies’s story doesn’t exactly seem noir, it makes for a compelling read. Likewise, Layla Qasrany’s “Tuesday of Sorrows” depicts an educated, middle-class family attempting to emigrate from Iraq without arousing the suspicions of the Ba’athist authorities. The atmosphere is claustrophobic, and these characters, too, use private code words to fool eavesdroppers. On the day of their departure to London, a man with an axe bursts into the apartment and kills the mother, a symbol of the state’s unchecked power over people’s lives, and its ability to wreak havoc for reasons of its own.

Two final stories are linked by their focus on protagonists taking revenge. Unlike the other stories, where the protagonists are victims, or at best witnesses to evil, in these two stories, the protagonists commit murder themselves. Roy Scranton’s “Homecoming” is a neatly plotted tale of a son’s vengeance against local thugs in Baghdad. I initially felt that the inclusion of an American author was unnecessary — after all, there are plenty of novels and memoirs written by Americans about Iraq post-2003, and far too few works of fiction by Iraqis made available to English-language readers. However, Scranton, who had previously been a soldier in the US army in Iraq in 2003 and 2004 and has since become an essayist and teacher of creative writing, has more than justified his placement in this collection with this lived-in tale, set before Mosul fell to Daesh in 2014. The protagonist, Haider, is on leave from the Iraqi army after he is injured fighting against Daesh. As always, readers may raise questions of representation, as an American author assumes the voice of a young Iraqi man, but Scranton’s story makes for a gripping read, as Haider avenges a brutal punishment meted out to his father by local thugs. It is perhaps unsurprising that there is an American character involved — albeit a distinctly unsympathetic one. As with a few other stories in this collection, “Homecoming” was written originally in English, and as such, there is a tendency for the characters to sound very much like American grunts with their fluent English swearing. The story offers a satisfying closure, but it did prompt me to wonder about the fiction yet to be written by Iraqis who lived through the most recent war against Daesh: there are surely memoirs and novels about those experiences being written now, just as the long Iran-Iraq War spawned a number of works of fiction in both Persian and Arabic.

In Nassif Falak’s “Doomsday Book,” set during the sanctions era, the narrator shadows his brother across Baghdad to discover why he is stealing items from their family home, only to discover that his brother is working for a local al-Qaeda cell. Later, after his brother disappears, the protagonist returns to the home of the cell leader and strangles him with wire. He also gets his hands on the leader’s ledger (“the doomsday book” of the title) that suggests that his brother has traveled to Afghanistan. The protagonist has some political secrets of his own, as a friend of his, just before being arrested, passed off to him a hand grenade for safekeeping, which the protagonist then buried in the yard of his house. The recurring image of the buried hand grenade, with its pin gradually rotting away, is a perfect symbol of the tensions buried within Iraqi society under Saddam, just waiting to explode into the open.

In his introduction, Shimon notes that a prominent theme in Baghdad Noir is family, and particularly the fraying of family bonds as siblings and relatives turn on each other and traditional ties loosen. I would argue, though, that the true common theme in these stories — a theme very much in the spirit of noir — is betrayal. Characters in this collection are frequently on the receiving end of unpleasant epiphanies. And as this engaging group of stories amply demonstrates, betrayal — whether by authorities, religious leaders, neighbors, colleagues, or liberators — is a subject that Iraqis know all too well.

¤

Chip Rossetti is a book editor and a translator of modern Arabic fiction.

¤

[1] Although there are certainly urban noir and noir-adjacent elements in Iraqi fiction and popular culture: I am thinking in particular of Hassan Blasim’s macabre short stories, and, more distantly, Iraqi television shows like Night Wolves (Dhi’ab al-Layl), which aired in the late 1980s, about violent gangsters in Baghdad’s criminal underworld.

The post Indirect Victims of Savagery appeared first on Los Angeles Review of Books.

from Los Angeles Review of Books https://ift.tt/2QZjDaP

[bigdatanewsmagazine]

Predictive analytics can stop ransomware dead in its tracks – CSO Online

This past February marks the two-year anniversary when Livingston County, Michigan, was hit by ransomware. The wealthiest county in the state had three years’ worth of tax information possibly at the mercy of cybercriminals.

As a local government, county CIO Rich C. Malewicz said they have been a target of ransomware, but in this instance they had backups at the ready. He said the most memorable ransomware attack was a result of a watering hole campaign using malvertizing to infect users visiting a local news website. 

“This attack was very clever in that all you had to do to get infected was visit the website, you didn’t even have to click on the page. Once the user went to the local news website, they were immediately redirected to a site hosting exploit code and the infamous page appeared demanding a ransom with instructions,” he said.

The attackers embedded malicious code in the iframe that redirected the users to the exploit landing page. The ransomware spread to several PCs and servers before it was contained. 

“We were fortunate enough to have a working backup of the data and we recovered shortly after. If we didn’t have a working backup this could have been a disaster,” Malewicz said.

Aside from the loss of personally identifiable information of the 188,000 citizens of the county, the government would have been looking at the labor cost to replicate the documents on top of the damage to its reputation. The county’s network is also shared with public safety entities as well as educational institutions.

“It’s pretty clear that local government is a primary target of ransomware attacks, mainly because they have lagged so far behind the private sector in terms of cyber protection, many don’t have working backup solutions – if any at all,  and they tend to pay the ransom,” he said. 

Recent headlines show public safety agencies and local governments will pay the ransom, so they are targeted even more – attackers will migrate to the industry that tends to pay the ransom and to those that have an inadequate cybersecurity posture. Case in point the Tewksbury, Mass., police paid the ransom four or five days after they could not break the encryption and needed the attackers to send them the private key in order to access the data.

“Protecting an organization from ransomware or any type of malware is similar to an arms race, as the threat evolves so must your defenses!” Malewicz said.

The county turned to predictive analytics in hopes of halting the ransomware attacks. Livingston County uses Unitrends backup solution to provide Malewicz’s team peace of mind that in the event our cyber defense fails.

“Ransomware was largely unheard of years ago, but today it’s a household name – everyone knows someone or some organization which has been infected. The future guarantees that more menacing ransomware variants will take center stage wreaking havoc in our homes and places of business. When ransomware exploits bypass perimeter cyber defenses you have only to rely on your predictive analytic cyber defenses to protect you, else I hope you have stable and secure backup to fall back on!” he said.

It is thought that with predictive analytics, it brings the technology more into a savior category then a staple. It elevates the ability of the technology to detect changes in data, which points to outbreak of ransomware and then allows the IT administrator to refer back to the last legitimate backup point.

Predictive analytics is a necessity because the malware of tomorrow is unknown and will surely evolve to our detriment. When traditional cyber defense technology is rendered ineffective or human error is at play, predictive analytic cyber defense technology becomes the last line of defense for an organization. The majority of cyber defenses in an organization is built around signature-based models of “known” malware, whereas predictive analytics is built around the “unknown”, establishing a pattern of life within the organization and protecting them from malware and other abnormal activity as well.

Paul Brady, CEO of Unitrends, said, by infusing predictive analytics into Unitrends’ backup and business continuity solutions, the company enables customers to detect ransomware as the last line of defense. “Through predictive analytics and machine learning against backup data patterns, organizations of any size can not only detect ransomware before it wreaks havoc on their data, but also revert back to the last legitimate backup point to decrease down time,” he said.

Unitrends explained the process: As backups occur, the software processes data regularly. Even without knowing the detailed contents of your files, metrics are collected, analyzed and stored for future decision making. These metrics include ingest patterns, change rates, growth rates, and more. The backup system is able to use machine learning over time to recognize that certain data anomalies are indicative of a ransomware attack. When the right conditions occur, the administrator is alerted immediately.

Ransomware is at the top of the list 

Robert Huber, chief security and strategy officer at Eastwind Networks, said ransomware is at the top of the list of priorities for many CISOs and CIOs. Given the cost of an infection via loss of data, or the cost to reclaim your data it makes sense.

“A great method to aid in detection, and more importantly prevention, is the use of predictive analytics, or machine learning. Unfortunately, the compute to perform machine learning at scale has historically been slow and expensive making it mostly reactive. This had been compounded by the difficulty in deploying and managing such as solution,” he said.

As the cost and ability to deploy machine learning (and in turn predictive analytics) have decreased, he said, expect to see many security companies add it to their solutions and apply it to the ransomware problem.

Often the “next-gen” moniker afforded to many new security products are just applying machine learning to existing problem sets, he said. The availability of platforms such as the Google Cloud Machine Learning Engine and Amazon Machine Learning have reduced the cost and complexity. In addition the community has improved the state of best practice for those who choose to build it on their own.

“Less complex, expensive and faster [machine learning] allow companies to apply it to cybersecurity in more of a near real-time mode to predict/prevent, versus react. Of course, this presumes that companies are able to build [machine learning] models that can identify this activity while it is still nascent. And this is where you need strong data scientists to extract the relevant features to build the models,” Huber said.

TIBCO’s Michael O’Connell pointed out some examples of when predictive analytics and machine learning come in handy.

Issue: Too many false positives arise because organizations tend to set independent thresholds for the rules and KPIs they believe need to be kept under surveillance. This is a nice starting point but inevitably leads to large inefficiencies, as the number of rules augments and their intra-correlations are not understood.

Solution: Using machine learning for optimally combining existing or new rules into rich fraud indicators, based on tried and tested math, ensure you are way more likely to get relevant alerts in a much smaller sample of investigation efforts. TIBCO’s machine learning models have both supervised and an unsupervised component. Supervised machine learning models focus on distinguishing within historic data known past fraud cases from the remainder. Financial crime detection also needs to be able to accommodate surprises through the use of unsupervised models. This type of model focuses on profiling typical past transactions and spotting odd ones. Not necessarily fraudulent, but odd, and therefore worthy of investigation.

Issue: Dangerous transactions will be investigated by humans, who must decide for each transaction whether it is criminal or not. This leads to long investigation times to come to accurate and precise conclusions.

Solution: Investigators’ decisions can be made maximally efficient with a TIBCO Spotfire investigative template that collects all information about the transaction’s history from any number of disparate sources. Investigators can complete their analyses on TIBCO Business Process Management (BPM), such that all decisions regarding each alert are auditable at any time. Furthermore, by placing Spotfire on top of BPM, we can identify bottlenecks in the investigation process and suggest how to address them. More importantly, as transactions get investigated and a conclusion is made regarding whether they were actually fraud or not, this information is used to monitor model health over time.

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from Predictive analytics can stop ransomware dead in its tracks – CSO Online

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Predictive analytics can stop ransomware dead in its tracks – CSO Online

This past February marks the two-year anniversary when Livingston County, Michigan, was hit by ransomware. The wealthiest county in the state had three years’ worth of tax information possibly at the mercy of cybercriminals.

As a local government, county CIO Rich C. Malewicz said they have been a target of ransomware, but in this instance they had backups at the ready. He said the most memorable ransomware attack was a result of a watering hole campaign using malvertizing to infect users visiting a local news website. 

“This attack was very clever in that all you had to do to get infected was visit the website, you didn’t even have to click on the page. Once the user went to the local news website, they were immediately redirected to a site hosting exploit code and the infamous page appeared demanding a ransom with instructions,” he said.

The attackers embedded malicious code in the iframe that redirected the users to the exploit landing page. The ransomware spread to several PCs and servers before it was contained. 

“We were fortunate enough to have a working backup of the data and we recovered shortly after. If we didn’t have a working backup this could have been a disaster,” Malewicz said.

Aside from the loss of personally identifiable information of the 188,000 citizens of the county, the government would have been looking at the labor cost to replicate the documents on top of the damage to its reputation. The county’s network is also shared with public safety entities as well as educational institutions.

“It’s pretty clear that local government is a primary target of ransomware attacks, mainly because they have lagged so far behind the private sector in terms of cyber protection, many don’t have working backup solutions – if any at all,  and they tend to pay the ransom,” he said. 

Recent headlines show public safety agencies and local governments will pay the ransom, so they are targeted even more – attackers will migrate to the industry that tends to pay the ransom and to those that have an inadequate cybersecurity posture. Case in point the Tewksbury, Mass., police paid the ransom four or five days after they could not break the encryption and needed the attackers to send them the private key in order to access the data.

“Protecting an organization from ransomware or any type of malware is similar to an arms race, as the threat evolves so must your defenses!” Malewicz said.

The county turned to predictive analytics in hopes of halting the ransomware attacks. Livingston County uses Unitrends backup solution to provide Malewicz’s team peace of mind that in the event our cyber defense fails.

“Ransomware was largely unheard of years ago, but today it’s a household name – everyone knows someone or some organization which has been infected. The future guarantees that more menacing ransomware variants will take center stage wreaking havoc in our homes and places of business. When ransomware exploits bypass perimeter cyber defenses you have only to rely on your predictive analytic cyber defenses to protect you, else I hope you have stable and secure backup to fall back on!” he said.

It is thought that with predictive analytics, it brings the technology more into a savior category then a staple. It elevates the ability of the technology to detect changes in data, which points to outbreak of ransomware and then allows the IT administrator to refer back to the last legitimate backup point.

Predictive analytics is a necessity because the malware of tomorrow is unknown and will surely evolve to our detriment. When traditional cyber defense technology is rendered ineffective or human error is at play, predictive analytic cyber defense technology becomes the last line of defense for an organization. The majority of cyber defenses in an organization is built around signature-based models of “known” malware, whereas predictive analytics is built around the “unknown”, establishing a pattern of life within the organization and protecting them from malware and other abnormal activity as well.

Paul Brady, CEO of Unitrends, said, by infusing predictive analytics into Unitrends’ backup and business continuity solutions, the company enables customers to detect ransomware as the last line of defense. “Through predictive analytics and machine learning against backup data patterns, organizations of any size can not only detect ransomware before it wreaks havoc on their data, but also revert back to the last legitimate backup point to decrease down time,” he said.

Unitrends explained the process: As backups occur, the software processes data regularly. Even without knowing the detailed contents of your files, metrics are collected, analyzed and stored for future decision making. These metrics include ingest patterns, change rates, growth rates, and more. The backup system is able to use machine learning over time to recognize that certain data anomalies are indicative of a ransomware attack. When the right conditions occur, the administrator is alerted immediately.

Ransomware is at the top of the list 

Robert Huber, chief security and strategy officer at Eastwind Networks, said ransomware is at the top of the list of priorities for many CISOs and CIOs. Given the cost of an infection via loss of data, or the cost to reclaim your data it makes sense.

“A great method to aid in detection, and more importantly prevention, is the use of predictive analytics, or machine learning. Unfortunately, the compute to perform machine learning at scale has historically been slow and expensive making it mostly reactive. This had been compounded by the difficulty in deploying and managing such as solution,” he said.

As the cost and ability to deploy machine learning (and in turn predictive analytics) have decreased, he said, expect to see many security companies add it to their solutions and apply it to the ransomware problem.

Often the “next-gen” moniker afforded to many new security products are just applying machine learning to existing problem sets, he said. The availability of platforms such as the Google Cloud Machine Learning Engine and Amazon Machine Learning have reduced the cost and complexity. In addition the community has improved the state of best practice for those who choose to build it on their own.

“Less complex, expensive and faster [machine learning] allow companies to apply it to cybersecurity in more of a near real-time mode to predict/prevent, versus react. Of course, this presumes that companies are able to build [machine learning] models that can identify this activity while it is still nascent. And this is where you need strong data scientists to extract the relevant features to build the models,” Huber said.

TIBCO’s Michael O’Connell pointed out some examples of when predictive analytics and machine learning come in handy.

Issue: Too many false positives arise because organizations tend to set independent thresholds for the rules and KPIs they believe need to be kept under surveillance. This is a nice starting point but inevitably leads to large inefficiencies, as the number of rules augments and their intra-correlations are not understood.

Solution: Using machine learning for optimally combining existing or new rules into rich fraud indicators, based on tried and tested math, ensure you are way more likely to get relevant alerts in a much smaller sample of investigation efforts. TIBCO’s machine learning models have both supervised and an unsupervised component. Supervised machine learning models focus on distinguishing within historic data known past fraud cases from the remainder. Financial crime detection also needs to be able to accommodate surprises through the use of unsupervised models. This type of model focuses on profiling typical past transactions and spotting odd ones. Not necessarily fraudulent, but odd, and therefore worthy of investigation.

Issue: Dangerous transactions will be investigated by humans, who must decide for each transaction whether it is criminal or not. This leads to long investigation times to come to accurate and precise conclusions.

Solution: Investigators’ decisions can be made maximally efficient with a TIBCO Spotfire investigative template that collects all information about the transaction’s history from any number of disparate sources. Investigators can complete their analyses on TIBCO Business Process Management (BPM), such that all decisions regarding each alert are auditable at any time. Furthermore, by placing Spotfire on top of BPM, we can identify bottlenecks in the investigation process and suggest how to address them. More importantly, as transactions get investigated and a conclusion is made regarding whether they were actually fraud or not, this information is used to monitor model health over time.

Let’s block ads! (Why?)

Originally posted on http://ift.tt/2oz5BB6

The post Predictive analytics can stop ransomware dead in its tracks – CSO Online appeared first on Big Data News Magazine.

from Predictive analytics can stop ransomware dead in its tracks – CSO Online