#what is the problem mic?

[jay-wasreblogging]

Everyone saying after the Reichenbach falls that Watson will go on a break, but what if he starts to document his grief and mourning?

[nana-glass-chillhop-radio-hour]

the gossip at the Grace must have been fucking crazyyyyyyyy

[k3inmo]

awh sorry for not posting I'm preoccupied with banana hair atm mgmgmghhh

smooches

[black-and-yellow]

Stupid doodles I did because I couldn't get them out of my head

[autisticlee]

sometimes I think about how when I went to college for a year before I dropped out (basically failed out,) the counselors/dean told me they can't help me at all or give any accommodations unless I have an official autism/adhd diagnosis. that might sound logical at first, but when you think about it more, it's actually quite fucked up. if someone is struggling really bad, what's the harm in helping them? why do they require a paper to get even the smallest amount of help? people who don't need help aren't going to be failing miserably without help! even NTs could benefit from some adjustments to the horrible school system! (but changing the entire system is a whole other conversation that the school system isnt ready for)

but even if you do agree to jump through their hoops, you realize it's even more fucked up that the diagnosis process requires YEARS in most cases (in my case it took 4 or 5 years, can't recall exactly now, for autism/adhd diagnosis, which would have meant i finished school before getting it if i managed to mot fail out, or i wait that long before going back, which is a whole struggle itself) and they also tried billing me for THOUSANDS of dollars because of insurance issues!!

so you put a ton of time and money into this, and then get told the only accommodation they are willing to give you for autism and adhd is "a little extra time on tests"

....

my test scores were the best part of my whole class experience. that was NOT what I struggled with!!!!! those tests were all online and could be done in the comfort of your home where you can accommodate yourself and have plenty of time left over when you finish them because you are comfy in your own space, (and also, no one was stopping you from having your notes/books/google open to find the answers,) and you don't even need a time consuming, expensive diagnosis for that!

SO WHAT'S THE POINT!!!!!!!

[aheckinmess]

(One-shot series 1/3 chapters posted - posts regularly on Saturdays. If anyone knows who to credit for the Hizashi fanart, please let me know!) Read on AO3.

Tags: Graphic violence, Hizashi Yamada x OC, Present Mic, Present Mic saves the day, Hizashi Yamada is a ray of sunshine, angst, hurt/comfort, scared reader, pro hero rescue

Word Count: 4,364 words

Summary: Ichijiku Aoki has lived in hell with Kigai as her captor for three years. During a chance encounter at a dance club, she runs into her first breath of fresh air in years: Hizashi Yamada. Kigai makes it clear that Ichi belongs to him, so dare she hope for a better life and an escape from her prison?

Author's Note: I haven't posted fanfiction in years, but after a two-year obsession with My Hero Academia, I have more than enough content to share. This first series is pretty dark, but there's some comfort and sweetness along the way. Enjoy.

TW: Implied/Referenced Sexual, Physical, and Emotional Abuse

Chapter 1: Time Signatures

Ichijiku (Tigress)

In another life, listening to the pulsating beat of the music in the club might be fun. I might feed off of the voices singing at the top of their lungs, or delight in the changing colors flashing all around the dance floor. 

But I’m not living in another life. I’m living in hell.

“Give her another shot.” Kigai’s voice rises over the crowd as he gives me a look. Don’t you tell a goddamn soul what I’m doing or you won’t live to see the sunrise. His quirk stretches into my mind and reminds me just who I belong to. Of course, the bruises littering my thighs are testament to that too. Kigai would never let me go out in anything other than skinny jeans, so it’s not like anyone can see, though.

No one ever sees.

The bartender gives me a smile and I play the perfect part of being his playful partner, leaning over to give Kigai a kiss on his cheek, a loving gaze, and a swat at his butt while bile turns over in my stomach. I throw back the shot of tequila before Kigai puts his hands at my hips and looks directly at me. You’d better get out on that dance floor and pretend you’re having a good time. People have started looking at you.  “Why don’t you go have some fun, sugar? I know you don’t feel good, but the dance floor has always helped you clear your mind.”

He plants a slow and tender kiss on my lips, but all I feel is dread. I want to feel happy. I want to feel a flutter in my chest. I want to feel anything. Anything but Kigai.

You’re mine, Ichi. And don’t you forget that. His eyes bore into mine and then he turns away, laughing at a joke Shihito tells him. I can feel his gaze follow me as I put on my brave face and walk through the dance floor.

In some ways, I’m grateful for the tequila. Otherwise I’d never be able to play like everything’s fine. Winding my way through the undulating bodies feels easier to bear than seeing that look on Kigai’s face. The threat that always lingers there. In this mingling of bodies I can close my eyes and lose myself to the music, feel the beat move in conjunction with me instead of forcing me to move with it. 

The only time I’m conscious of is the time signature in the music. Minutes could pass, or it could be hours. What’s important is that Kigai doesn’t cut in and I can’t see those eyes trapping me in their domineering gaze. 

For the first time in three years, I’m reminded of the better parts of life.

And then the better part of life bumps into me.

“Whoops! Hey there, little lady. Sorry for the intrusion.” A blonde man with a broad smile and glasses apologizes to me. “Did I hurt you?”

For a moment my breath is taken away and my façade cracks. The best way I can describe him is pure sunshine. He only looks at me for a moment with that grin but the warmth seeps into my skin and makes me yearn for a normal life. My throat gets tight. Help me. I want to say. Please make him leave me alone. 

“Woah, hey, is everything okay? Did I really hurt you?” His puts a soothing arm on my shoulder as he makes himself heard over the crowd. “Why don’t you come sit down?”

“No!” I panic, forcing a grin on my face and hoping that he’ll shake it off as me being drunk. That’s what everyone else has done. “Really, it’s okay. I just get emotional when I’m drunk. I’m sorry. You just took me by surprise.” I shake my head as if trying to clear my mind and turn away from him. You’re too pure for someone like me, too beautiful for this world. If Kigai knew I slipped up…I can’t drag you down into this. You could get hurt.

“Hey, wait!” I hear him call behind me, but I ignore it and keep moving.

My feet rush towards the bathroom. I head inside and slam the first stall door I see before heaving into the porcelain bowl. Get it together, Ichijiku. I’ll kill Kigai. We can’t. I sob in the stall. We can’t do anything. Kigai has my family on his radar. We’re stuck! What a foul sack of shit. He’s not worth the stripes on my skin. I want to die. I know, Little Cub, and I’d surely embrace death knowing that you didn’t have to suffer this any longer. But we have to hold on. Change is coming. I can feel it in my bristling fur.

There’s a banging at the door that I know means I’m in trouble. I quickly wipe the tears from my cheeks frantically and flush the toilet before wetting a paper towel and dabbing under my eyes. Breathe. Get it together. We’ll survive. I’m right here with you.

I step out of the bathroom and Kigai’s hand wraps around my arm as he pulls me aside.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He puts on a concerned simper, feeling my forehead with his free hand. You’re supposed to tell me where you’re going and why. You were trying to run away, weren’t you, bitch?  “I thought you were hurt. Did you get sick?”

“I think I drank too much.” I sniffle, looking down so he can’t use his quirk and I don’t have to listen to his haunting voice in my thoughts. It’s a mistake.

His hand comes under my chin. To an outside party it might look like he’s being a tender lover, but there’s bite in the way his fingers dig into my skin. You know I hate when you look away from me, whore.

“Honey, you only had one shot. When did you become such a lightweight?” He laughs. I’m sick of your damn excuses. He runs his fingers through my hair and his hands cup my cheeks as he kisses my forehead. “But if you need to take a seat, go ahead.” Stay where I can see you.

“Thanks, love.” I return his gesture of affection with a hug and a peck on his cheek.

For a while, I sit at the bar again, scrolling through my phone to look busy. I can’t see Kigai, but I don’t need to. His gaze always follows me, even when he’s not in the room.

“It looks like you needed a break, huh?” The blonde from earlier takes residence in the seat next to me.

I turn to look at him as I nurse a lemonade. He’s like a breath of fresh air.

“Yeah.” I look down at the table again and trace around the rim of my glass. “Sorry about earlier. I think I’d been dancing too long and was getting overheated.”

“Yeah, the dance floor can get overwhelming if you’re not used to it.” He laughs. The sound sings through my bones. 

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Yamada Hizashi. But you can call me Hizashi.” He tilts his head like a puppy and the lights around him make him appear almost angelic. “What’s yours?”

“Ichijiku.” 

“Nice to formally meet you, Ichijiku.” He answers. “Was that your boyfriend I saw earlier?” 

“Yes.” I smile into my cup to hide the disgust in my eyes. God, I wish he wasn’t. “He was making sure I was okay.”

“Ah, good to know. From back there it looked like he was going to hurt you, but I was obviously mistaken. I’m glad you’re safe, you know?” 

Something about the way he says it makes me look up at him and feel more hope than I have in a long time. I feel seen and heard. After a cursory glance around the club without seeing Kigai, I feel safe enough to answer.

“Kigai’s not a dangerous man. He doesn’t hit me and he likes to make sure I’m taken care of.” My eyes scream the opposite. I hope he catches it. I hope he doesn’t. “He knows my favorite colors and we watch my favorite movies all the time and he loves me. He never calls me names and he always asks before he touches me; Kigai doesn’t want to hurt me.”

Hizashi’s hand moves closer to mine and when I look at him I don’t feel sick.

“So you don’t need my help at all, do you?” He asks. He doesn’t break my gaze. 

My lips part in a relieved gasp;  I’m ready to tell him everything, but my eyes hold terror as Kigai catches my gaze from across the room. What the hell are you telling him? His smile follows me even though he’s standing beside the DJ. Abruptly, I stand and move away from Hizashi.

“It would be better if you stayed away from me.” I hiss under my breath, cursing myself for wishing for a normal life. Cursing myself for dreaming that I’d ever be able to get away from Kigai. What was I thinking? If Kigai finds out, it’ll be my head. But at least Hizashi knows. Maybe he can get help! Why would he help me? He probably has no idea I need help. I was reading too much into it. No one ever notices the bruises. Or they make excuses if they do.  That’s right. No one cares about you. Who cares about a stupid whore? She’s not a whore. Kigai’s a manipulator and a rapist, and that’s all there is to it, fiend.

“Are you looking at my girl?” I’m suddenly face to chest with Kigai. Shit. He was closer than I realized. Fuck!

“Kigai, honey, it’s okay. I was just coming to find you. It’s fine.” I place my hand on his arm and squeeze, trying to redirect him. 

“No, it’s not fucking okay.” Kigai growls, glaring bullets into Hizashi’s eyes. 

“Hey, man. You have the wrong idea.” Hizashi puts his hands up, looking composed and calm. See? He knows nothing. Everything you told him went straight over his head. “She bumped into me earlier and I was just making sure she’d gotten back to the bar safely.”

“She bumped into you? Or were you trying to cop a feel?” Kigai snarls, dangerously tense.

“Kigai, please.” I beg, pulling at the front of his shirt to make him look at me. Why the hell did you let him get close to you, huh? You know you belong to me. Not some sleaze who’s just going to fuck you and leave you out to dry. After everything I’ve done for you. His words reach into my mind and I do the only thing I can to get out of the situation. I reach up around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. 

Thankfully, Kigai seems to take the bait. He becomes more possessive, gripping my hips so hard I know there’ll be bruises there in the morning. His tongue invades my mouth and he tugs fiercely at my lip. When he pulls back, he still turns a fiery glare onto Hizashi.

“Don’t you get near my girl again, got it?” Kigai wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close to him. My eyes lose their shine. I guess that’s it. We’re stuck again. All in good time, Little Cub. All in good time.

He pulls me away and I risk one last glance back at Hizashi. One last hopeful plea begging him to help, but he’s not looking back at me. 

. . . . .

Six months go by that Kigai refuses to take me out again. For six months he beats the lesson into me.

“You were trying to be a clever little whore, weren’t you?” His foot connects with my jaw, but I don’t make a sound. I take it. “Thought you had a savior. Someone to take you away from me, right? But you’re mine! If you left me do you know what that would mean for your family? For you?” He yanks me up by my hair. “They’d be up shit creek without a paddle and it’d be all your fault!” 

“I’m sorry, love.” I whimper out, hating the taste of the words on my tongue. “It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t.” He lets go of me and I catch the brunt of my weight on my arms. Tears trickle down my cheeks and then suddenly he pulls me into his arms and then onto his lap on the bed.

“You know I love you, right?” He coos in my ear, saying the words that my heart wants to hear in the most twisted tones. “It’s just…seeing you with that other man…mmm…I hated seeing that. You know he was just trying to manipulate you, right? Use you when you were vulnerable?”

You’d know all about that wouldn’t you? I wish I could have been more specific…told him something more concrete. Then maybe I wouldn’t be stuck here. It’s not your fault, Dear One. “I know, Kigai. I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling good and I just wanted someone to talk to.”

His grip tightens on me. “You could have found me.”

“You were busy, Kigai, I didn’t want to ruin your time.” I turn and kiss his cheek to make the comment more believable. “I love you.”

“Mmm, that’s what I like to hear.” He kisses under my ear and it burns. Nauseous flames swim along my body until he leaves me broken under the covers. I curl up into a ball as he gets up from the covers and starts grabbing his clothes. “C’mon, baby, get your clothes on. I think you’ve learned your lesson. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

I don’t question it. I’m silent as I pull on my clothes and fix my hair. When I’m ready, I take the arm he offers me. 

“You’re gonna like this, baby.” He rubs a small bruise he made at my neck, smiling as we head out into the street and he looks at me. You’d better not tell anyone it’s anything other than a love bite, got it? Or I’ll have your family hunted down with a snap of my fingers.  “Look at how beautiful you look with my marks on you. Everyone will know who you belong to, yeah?” 

“Of course. Only yours.” I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat.

Before long he leads me to a karaoke bar. The sight of it puts a pep in my step; even though I’d rather be here with anyone else except Kigai, this is the most I’ve gotten out in months. I’ll take what I can get.

“A karaoke bar? How did you know?” I giggle, kissing his cheek as I slip into the assumed role.

“I know my babygirl.” He pauses to kiss me roughly outside the door before pulling me inside. He pays for the two of us before we’re taken to a private room where a few of his friends are waiting. “I hope you don’t mind, some of my buddies came to join us.”

“It’s okay.” I promise, even though seeing all of them makes my heart sink. “As long as they don’t bother me.”

“They’ve already been warned, babe, they’ve already been warned.” Kigai winks at me. Don’t test those waters after I’ve let you out. “Would you like to go first?”

“Yes, please.” 

Once again, the music distracts me from my own crumbling little world. Life seems full of more promise as the notes spill from my lips. 

“Hey, Takamaru! I’ve gotta take a piss. Keep an eye on my girl, okay? Make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble.” Kigai chuckles and glances at me before he leaves. Don’t do anything stupid.

“Sure, man.” Takamaru doesn’t even look in Kigai’s direction. He’s too busy focusing on Shihito’s selection. “What the fuck, man?! You’ve sung homura three times already! Pick something new.”

“Shut up, Taka, it’s the only song I know.” Shihito huffs, pulling up the microphone again.

“Hey, do you guys mind if I go grab a snack?” I ask, wanting to get some fresh air without Kigai hovering over me. If he gets back before I do, I can always blame Takamaru. He never goes too hard on his buddies. 

“Sure, Ichi. Can you grab me a granola bar while you’re at it?” Takamaru tosses me a couple yen. 

“Sure thing.” I nod and head towards the vending machine on the balcony. 

I walk by a room where I hear such sweet sonorous notes I can’t help but glance into the window. Hizashi?! My feet stutter and I nearly trip. I have to keep walking. Kigai is liable to beat him up if he even sees he’s in the same building. If I were to stop and wave? Impossible. I force myself to keep walking until I make it to the machine. 

Once I’ve got a pack of crackers and Taka’s granola bar, I hang over the railing and take a deep breath. When did this all start? Why did I let myself get roped into this? I hate this… None of this is your fault, Little One. Kigai is a manipulator and a fiend. And his quirk makes it inanely difficult to give any sort of proof to the authorities of your predicament. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” Hizashi’s voice joins me on the balcony. I jump back as if stung and start backing away from him. His moves his hands from his pockets and holds them up in surrender. “Woah, hey, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I turn to look and make sure Kigai isn’t headed back to our karaoke room and then back to Hizashi. “You can’t be here.”

“Is he hurting you?” He asks me bluntly, eyes somehow fierce and kind all at once.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I choke out, starting to speed walk back into the building. This can’t be happening. Kigai’s going to kill him if he sees him anywhere near me! 

His hand grabs my wrist and I’m forced to pause and turn back to him.

“Is he hurting you, Ichijiku?” 

The first time I saw his gaze in the club, I nearly lost myself. Seeing it now, so intentional and worried…I feel I have no choice.

“Yes.” I hiss, eyes watering. “Yes, he hurts me. All the time. For big things, for little things. But I take it, okay?” Part of me is angry. Not even at Hizashi, just everything in general. Why the hell am I in this predicament? What did I do except love people and want them to love me back? It’s okay. You’re allowed to be angry. Especially at this situation. “I take it because Kigai says he’ll hurt my family if I don’t. Because they’ll die if I don’t suck it up like a good girl, alright? And he’s going to hurt you too, Hizashi. He’ll hurt you really bad if you so much as look at me. If you’re so much as seen with me.” I keep glancing back, waiting at any moment for Kigai to round the corner and exact his punishment. “So go! Leave me alone. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt for my sake…please.” I beg, finally yanking my hand free of his hold.

When I hear Kigai’s voice down the hall, I don’t look back. I rush back into the room just in time and hand Taka his granola bar. I start nibbling on my crackers so I can compose my face before he walks in. I smile at him and offer him a cracker.

“Oo, got me a snack, baby?” He takes the whole pack and leaves me the one. “Thanks.”

The rest of the evening, I’m too nervous to sing like I want to. I pick one or two songs to make sure Kigai’s off my scent, but mostly I watch him and his friends sing. In reality, I keep watching the door to make sure Hizashi doesn’t walk by.

By the time we get ready to leave, it’s dark. I assume that Hizsahi is long gone, because as we walk by his room on our way out, it’s empty and quiet. Thank you, Lord. He deserves a better lot in life than this. 

“Damn, Kigai, every time we go out for karaoke I forget just how shitty of a singer you are.” Taka teases as we give the desk lady her key back. 

“Hey, man! I’m not that bad. At least I can carry a tune.”

“Barely.” He snorts, before nudging Shihito. “And this fucker only has one song he can sing!” 

The ribbing continues as we walk out the door. I keep my eyes down and my arm wrapped around Kigai’s until a group of voices convene on us and someone suddenly pulls me out of Kigai’s grasp.

“Police! Get on the ground, now!” Someone barks out, and my brain struggles to keep up.

Kigai and his pals look shocked to say the least. Kigai is the only one who tries to struggle, of course. “Get the fuck off me! Let my girl go! Babygirl, tell these fuckers to get off me!” 

“Don’t hurt him!” I call out, aching heart bleeding for him even in spite of all the bruises he’s left on my heart and my body.

“Get on the ground.” The cop repeats, needing two more officers to help bring Kigai down to the ground. “Sir, you’re under arrest.”

The world around me sways. My breath gets shaky and I start crying as I beg them to leave him alone. What am I doing?! I want them to take him but… He’s a manipulator. He’s made you afraid and obligated to him. I want him out of my life. I don’t ever want to see him again. My pleas ultimately die down as my sobs get louder. 

The weather is colder in the darkness. My body starts shaking and I start swaying.

“It’s okay, ma’am. We’ll get it taken care of. You’re safe now.” The woman holding me rubs my shoulders and starts looking around. “Can one of you grab a jacket for–”

“I’ve got it taken care of.” Hizashi’s voice melts into my eardrums as the police get Kigai into the back of their cruiser. I wrap my arms around myself and then he’s got something warm and soft wrapped around my shoulders. “Here. Take my jacket.”

I turn to Hizashi and then back to the police cruiser. I look at the woman.

“Excuse me, Officer?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Th–That man…Kigai…he…he said he’d hurt my family if I ever turned him in. Are they–”

“This young man here told us the story. We’ve got a unit at their house.” She assures me, rubbing my shoulder. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore, honey. We’ve got it all covered. We’ve been trying to find definitive evidence to put this guy away for years.”

I look at her, disbelieving. “H=How did you find any evidence?”

The officer looks at the cruiser as Kigai is hauled off, before she looks at Hizashi with a smile and then back to me. “Your friend here said that he recorded your conversation in the karaoke place. He said he’d previously met you and was suspicious of the situation.”

“I hadn’t seen you in months. I was scared I was too late to do anything, so when I saw you…” He pauses. “I started recording on my phone before I walked over to talk to you. I was hoping that maybe if I was blunt enough…you might tell me what was going on.” Hizashi admits sheepishly. “So we left as soon as I got the evidence just in case your group was planning on leaving soon.”

For a long time, I just stare at him. I memorize everything I can about him. The way his hair frames his face and the small, pampered mustache making his smile pop out on his face. Then there’s his eyes.

One look and my body works without my permission. I wrap my arms around him, tackling him into a hug and feeling three years of pain and grief claw out of my chest and manifest as sobs.

“Thank you, Hizashi.” I hold his back in a death grip, and I feel him pat my back delicately. 

“I couldn’t sit by and watch you get hurt without doing anything.”

“Ma’am, would you like me to walk you to your home?” The officer asks me, also reaching over to rub my shoulder.

“I don’t have anywhere to go right now.” I admit with a sniffle. “But if you can go with me to grab my stuff from Kigai’s, that would be great.” I turn to Hizashi. “Will you come with us? Please?”

“Of course. I won’t leave you alone right now. That a problem with you, Officer?” 

“Not at all.” She assures.

When we make it to Kigai’s house, there’s blue and red lights flashing there too. Hizashi steps with me inside as the officer gets debriefed on other things found out about Kigai’s dastardly affairs. “It’s just down this hall.” I assure him.

Going back into Kigai’s room sends a cold chill down my spine. You’re mine, whore. You belong to me, understand? I pull Hizashi’s jacket tighter around me, before steeling my nerves and grabbing my bag and stuffing it.

“Anything you need me to grab?” Hizashi asks as he looks around.

“No. I don’t have much.” I toss in my phone and charger, a few changes of clothes, toothbrush, hairbrush, and a few other necessities. “I think that’s all.” I say once I’ve got everything together. When at last I turn to him and meet his gaze, I’m expecting to hear foul words stabbing into my brain.

He is not Kigai, Little One. It’s going to be okay. 

My nose quivers as I look at him. “He’s really gone.”

“He won’t hurt you anymore, Ichijiku.” Hizashi nods. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

I don’t have to be afraid.

Continue Reading -> Ch. 2

[justmwahstruly]

i seem to have a problem. hm.

@thatthirstyweirdo IM SORRY—

[walterdecourceys]

really fascinated by that guy who does those "broadway actors when their mics are on/off" videos but exclusively using shows he would literally never be cast in

[akkivee]

i’m pretty sure the reason we got nagosaka’s second round of solos mimicking the og album art was bc kr was making a concerted effort to bridge the gap between the amount of music the ogs and nagosaka have lol

but those first solos for the og divisions were their beginnings as characters so maybe we can pretend round two solos for nagosaka is their true beginning lol

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly something that, amidst facing / going through a dramatic Life Change ft. unavoidable emotional effects of that, there are instances where i can't conceal any & all degrees of being distressed / upset, & repeatedly getting "it's hard for me too" as a Direct Response to that: really something & a half how the asserted theoretical Sympathy of [i feel similarly!] is invoked so as to, oh you know, preclude sympathetic Treatment. such as that what would be More sympathetic in these instances would be to say Nothing, "if there's nothing but dismissal / making it first & foremost about someone else's feelings to say, don't say it at all" style

[boatemboys]

i honestly dont think my hatred for work is even mental illness related i just really dont want to do something i hate for 40 hours a week for. what. bills? maybe a crumb of food if im lucky

[todayisafridaynight]

i would watch your speedpaints btw, ur art is really cool and i love speedpaints. if u ever try streaming again i will try to show up cause yeah ur art is really really good and i think ur pretty cool too so. yeah. hope this aint weird or anythin just wanted to let ya know i really like ur blog and artwork

not weird at all, thank you my guy (❁´◡`❁) i hope i can get things to work soon, i was really looking forward to streamin for everyone,,

[hamable]

Oh my god oh my god I’m going to fly out to LA myself and strangle whoever they put in charge of the audio engineering for the Oscars.

[weretentaclegirl]

Your werewolf FBI agent

The werewolf fbi agent assigned to you catches you fucking yourself one night.

Actually, he wasn’t supposed to be monitoring you through your phone at night but he was bored and lonely and he got curious about your night routine so he used his credentials and got access to your phone’s camera and mic, right on time to watch you cum. He wasn’t expecting that, and knew he should’ve felt guilty and turned it off, but just that little glimpse made him so fucking hard he had to stroke his dick and keep watching in hopes you’d keep going. And of course you did, cumming multiple times and falling asleep with your phone still in front of your face. And he came so hard he had to change his sheets immediately. And now he’s obsessed. 

When the sun’s out he tells himself he wouldn’t do it that day. That it was wrong and he could get in trouble if someone ever finds out. But as soon as he gets home he loses the battle and tunes in for the show, semi hard cock already in hand. He gets aroused even when you're doing mundane things, like following a recipe or watching tv while browsing on tumblr. That’s like foreplay to him until you’re ready to go to bed and start touching yourself.

At first he was fine with what little of you could be seen through your phone; it was enough for him to see your adorable flushed face and hear your moans. But as days pass his obsession grows. He needs to see your body from all the angles he can get so he hacks your security system. He even gets into your house one day when you’re out and installs his personal cameras and a few hidden mics here and there. He sends subliminal messages with his own voice through your alexa when you’re asleep to break your mind and get you fucking yourself for hours on end. You’ve never been into monsters but suddenly you’re interested in buying a knotted dildo after getting tons of ads of this specific model that supposedly emulates the real thing, and is even modeled after a real werewolf dick! 

It’s all a fantasy to him, and it's not harming you so what’s the problem? It’s not like he’s going to make a move on you, right?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[mightaswelljxmp]

hm ok so interestingly, bdubs’s courthouse is built on an odd number of blocks. note the roof of the facade coming to a point, but more importantly, the nine pillars….

you don’t use an odd number of pillars. like ever.

let me get this out of the way first: i get why you’d build with odd numbers in minecraft. i usually do it myself, to not run into problems like double doors or two-wide pointed roofs or frustrating spacing/symmetry between decorative elements. however. to not even out the design of something so unequivocally done in every other example of columns and pillars…. fascinating implications…

every other example guys. every other building with columns like this has an even number of them.

doing so sets the line of symmetry at an invisible point between two pillars, an even number on each side. but an odd total number of pillars makes the central pillar itself the line of symmetry. this does a couple things.

one, it upends the sense of community and equality. which i know sounds crazy, but really, a group of columns are all put there to hold up a structure. there’s no focus on one because they are all are working as supports.

symbolically, at least when first used in ancient greece, pillars represented people. and it makes sense for courthouses, especially, to want to show an even, fair, equal number of people on each side. no focus on any one, no inherent bias right off the bat just looking at it.

with an odd number of pillars, though, one will always be placed front and center.

and THEN. and then you walk in the courtroom itself (also odd-numbered blocks) and you are immediately opposite the judge, bdubs, located exactly centrally. and true, courtrooms are often set up like this anyway. but bdubs ups the ante and reaffirms that no, focus is on him by staging it all as a daytime court show, boom mic just over his head, cameras pointed in, spotlights on him.

literally by design, it was not built for justice. it’s built for show, for entertainment. and just look at the credits to know exactly what sort of message you’re supposed to be getting from this show.

the biblical story he used, with king solomon. it’s about king solomon. isn’t really about the trial itself, or the babies, or the women. it’s about showing (off) how wise and just he is. that’s the point. hm. interesting.

now, getting to the second point that etho also picked up on: it feels like a prison.

it’s not just the color palette. when your eyes naturally draw to the center point, you aren’t seeing an open space. instead of feeling like an arch or gateway or otherwise some kind of opening, the pillar there makes it feel closed off. the overall effect is that of prison bars. not pillars lining the entrance to a place of order or a temple. bars of a cage, a cell.

imagine the lincoln memorial were set up with 11 or 13 pillars. he’d look so much more trapped in there.

having a central pillar blocks the entrance. it’s not welcoming. you have to go around it; it’s immediately inconveniencing you. and when you go to leave, it’s there blocking you again.

this courthouse was not designed and built to be fair, nor accomodating, nor equitable, on any terms. even if unintentional, i wouldn’t call it so much coincidental as i would… subconscious.

after all, y’know. form follows function.