#swaggers technologies

[deepestwolfstudent]

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[keehomania]

wearing my nct shirt to the gynecologist tomorrow so she knows i'm not sexually active without having to ask

[quanblovk]

DMK: Check it out.

MK: .....

DMK: My very own Halberd.

MK: That's just a cardboard box with the word "Halberd" written on it.

DMK: A MAN CAN DREAM.

[alternate-real-ities]

Hi. It would be interesting to know how you look into other universes? Do you have any kind of device or magical abilities? Can you demonstrate this on me?

Hey there, cutie 😉. Thank you for your intriguing question about how I perceive other universes and realities beyond our own. While I do not possess any magical abilities, I have developed a remarkable device that allows me to peer into the multiverse. My machine utilizes advanced quantum computing technology coupled with exotic matter as the energy source. It allows me to access specific realities with decent clarity by calibrating it carefully.

To demonstrate this capability for you, I would be happy to show you some alternate realities where you're still as stunning as you are now, only in a different way:

Here's a universe where you are instead Filipino. Here, your hair is a deep black with just the slightest hint of waviness at the top, framing your heart-shaped face perfectly. You possess a boyish face that makes anyone weak in the knees at first glance. When you smile, it's like seeing a whole world open up.

Your chest is smooth and flat, leading down to your soft belly and then tapering off into elegant legs that show little signs of hair. You are so small and delicate that it's hard to imagine that below all that innocence hides a deep lust for a big strong man to hold you up and do with you as he pleases.

-

Now, let's pay a visit to a previous dimension I like to call "Arab World". At the pinnacle of this society are the most perfectly engineered humans - those with Arab DNA that has been optimized through generations of careful selection, genetic tweaking and breeding to create individuals of unparalleled physical perfection and mental acuity. In this universe, you are an alpha of unparalleled might, your virility unmatched by any who have come before. You take great pride in your genetic superiority, knowing that no mere mortal could ever compare to your perfection.

You are blessed with a virile physique, muscular form sculpted by years of intense physical training. Your bulging chest and rock-hard abs speak to your boundless strength and vitality. In the gym at your lavish estate, you push yourself to the limits, determined to maintain peak condition.

But as much as you appreciate fine living and opulence, your true passion lies in power, conquest, and sexual domination of lesser beings. As an elite Arab alpha ruler, you take immense pride and pleasure in asserting your superiority over those beneath you, including your slaves.

-

To end this showcase gracefully, let me show you one last reality which might be my favourite. In this dimension, one of your parents is black, and as such you were born to become an handsome lightskin man.

You are an absolute fuckboy, and you wouldn't have it any other way. Your life is one endless string of parties, workouts, flirting, and fucking. You are utterly shameless about flaunting your body to anyone who will look. At the gym, you make sure every single rep is perfectly calibrated for maximum muscle growth. You strike poses, flexing and posing with a confident swagger that lets everyone know just how goddamn hot you are. The mirror loves you as much as you do.

Your nightlife consists of endless nights out on the town. You're always down to hit up the trendiest clubs in the city, the hottest bars, the flashiest parties. Your social media is filled with steamy selfies showcasing off your bodacious physique - pecs popping from tight tank tops, washboard abs glistening as you do ab crunches against a wall. Fans and admirers drool over every inch of exposed skin.

You are always on the prowl for a special someone to show off and bring home - some unsuspecting twink who can't resist getting lost in your world of pleasure and excitement. The way you touch them, caress their skin with lingering fingertips, leans into them with smoldering intensity - it's enough to make even the most experienced bottom moan like a bitch in heat.

-

These are just some examples of the diverse array of alternate realities that my machine allows me to access and observe from afar. Although, with the timeline converger project I'm currently working on, it may one day become possible for me to physically transform you as well if we both so desire.

As a side note, I'd like to thank you for your patience! I know I took a lot of time, but calibrating my machine takes quite some time if one wants to see realities that aren't as normal and boring as ours. I hope it was worth your time, because I'm sure it was worth mine 😉 See you next time!

[2old2swiftie]

Following on the post about trusting our guts about gaydar and celebrities...

I've batted nearly .1000 when it comes to predicting a celebrity's sexual orientation just from media clues. I think partly it's because I don't make the "guess" that often: Only a few celebrities really ring the clue phone (yeah, lack of representation sucks), but I also think the other reason is because LGBTQIA folks don't get it wrong very often.

I mean, it's pretty important that our instincts are right, after all. We could truly be risking our lives on a wrong guess in real life. We have to be incredibly careful AND pretty darned good.

So, I was trying to think of someone who pinged my spidey senses that I was COMPLETELY wrong about... and I came up with only one example:

Kate Mulgrew.

Despite driving the daydreams of legions of 1970s lesbians (Rosie O'Donnell, I'm looking at you), Kate remains firmly heterosexual, in spite of the lesbian catnip she oozes from every pore.

Just look at her as Mary Ryan in her soap opera debut:

She went on to do movies and the stage for a number of years, but she was hard to cast because she didn't fit the cookie cutter parts available at the time. She had a brief doctor series and some guest star spots, most notably on Dallas and Cheers.

But when they cast her as Captain Janeway? Come on!!

Look at her!!!

Every woman loving woman in all the quadrants wanted to be her coffee cup!!

But the man boys at Paramount decided the show needed some spank appeal for the 14-24 male demographic, so they brought out their Space Barbie, Seven of Nine, to introduce some gratuitous sex and nudity.

"Only one problem, boys," said Mulgrew with a smirk....

Voyager now had a willful, headstrong, wildly intelligent "alien" snatched from her natural environment and penned up in a rigid, paramilitary system that she had to learn to navigate, understand, and ultimately be tamed by... and it was headed by another willful, headstrong, wildly intelligent human, who happened to be female, too.

The producers and writers claimed Janeway was Seven's mentor, a "mother figure" to the poor little space orphan.

As the J/7 fandom put it: Mother, my ass.

The subtext-- and soon the fan fiction-- wrote itself: Seven gets kidnapped back to the Borg? Janeway takes on a Borg cube with a ship a tenth its size. Failing Borg technology threatens Seven's life? Janeway goes "cortical node" hunting, even if it means killing a live (enslaved, sentient) drone to get one. Greater good? Screw that, Janeway's girlfriend is in danger.

Star Trek: Voyager went toe-to-toe with Xena, Warrior Princess as lesbian show of the decade.

And it wasn't just the show that made us all sure about Kate. The woman has the voice of a lesbian sex goddess and she's not afraid to use it. She flirts shamelessly with all interviewers and creates sexual tension with stage furnishings. She swaggers. She slouches. She has the greatest hand game in lesbian history!!

But through it all, Kate Mulgrew maintained (and still maintains) her heterosexuality.

And I still hope...nay, LONG!, to have my gaydar proven right...

[doomtrooper77]

Some of these new Merc were terrifying. Back in 2080, some countries, fuck call them what they were now, fucking conglomerate states, tried fielding robotic soldiers on the field. They were devastating at first. More than a few countries fell to wave after wave of unthinking killing machines. But here's the thing, no programming, no AI is going to ever beat a THINKING KILLING MACHINE. During that time, companies/countries started integrating tech into their soldiers. It was still supposed to have been against international law., but the human race had devolved into purely might makes right.

It turns out that humans blended with tech are far more efficient and deadly killing machines. The human mind has always been geared toward using tools. Now that these deadly tools were blended directly with human anatomy, the machines didn't stand a chance. But then, neither did your everyday human.

Its 2145 technology has humanity flowing into the solar system, with cities on the Asteroids, the Moon, Mars, and Europa. 100 years ago, TV shows had humanity step into the stars as a unified civilization. Reality is nothing like that. Conglomerations are the governments. The riches of the solar system allowed them to branch out and grow at exponential rates. Most people live a good life, but military strikes and wars between companies are common. Sometimes, it is over territory, a new asteroid, or a new spot on the moon or Mars. Or over tech and knowledge.

That's where I come in. They attacked about 12 hours ago. They didn't know what they were looking for because it was actually a who. Me. They have been scooping up all the tech they found, but it turns out they were looking for the guy who had been developing a new way to generate encapsulated plasma. I was that guy. It could be used for a lot of things, but one of them was weaponry. I didn't tell anyone, but I was much further along in my research than I had told my bosses. I had figured out how to use this tech in everything from handguns to ship-mounted cannons. Somehow, someone outside of our company found out, which is why they attacked.

I recognize this gear. These guys were from the heavy weapons company Blackblade Heavy Weapons and Industry. They were from their mercenary wing, Doomtroopers. Some of the tech they integrated and carried was beyond anything I had ever seen. Doomtroopers weren't just your average mercenaries. As far as we can tell, only 10 attacked the base. We had over 200 security personnel onsite. They cut through them like butter.

The three trying to get me to a shuttle were smeared across the broken and crumbling building. They told me to hide, but it was too late. Hiding under a desk in the shadows of the room did nothing. I could see the glow of his cyber eyes as they locked on me. The ground shook as his massive armored form swaggered to where I hid.

"I found the target. We are in building 7G. Converge on me." He said out loud. "Loud and Clear, Major, we are headed your way." was the reply. His face split into a grin, "Now, why don't you come out from under there, little man. We're gonna take you to your new home. Lots of new tech for you to play with and lots of new toys you'll make for us." he said hefting the massive assault rifle he carried easily. "You can come along nicely, or I can beat you into compliance. I'd rather you come along nicely."

I did the only thing I could; I stood up from under the desk. The smirk on his face said he was a man who was used to getting what he wanted. Today, he wanted me. It wasn't until I was standing next to him that I realized how big he was. Fuck, he was easily over 7 feet tall. He had massive musculature; I could see the armor and tech integrated over his frame. A small part of me was screaming this was a monster from a nightmare, but the analytical part of me was already thinking about what could be done to improve it.

His eyes seemed to assess me even as mine assessed him. "Good choice, Doctor." He said. Getting back on channel with his men, he said, "Doomsquad 9, clean up any security on your way to building 7. Dropships, meet us outside section 9, lay waste to anything on air or land that moves in our direction." Weapons fire could be heard in the distance and growing nearer. He growled, "Music to my ears."

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Footwear: Meteor Sports (Part 2)

I FOUND THE SHOES!

Xavier's Meteor Sports are practically a dead ringer for the Nike Air Fear of God Raid!

Look at this comparison! Loooooook!

Product Details:

Price: $201.83 (£152.95)

Description:

"Co-created with street-fashion mogul Jerry Lorenzo and his Fear of God brand, the Nike Air Fear of God Raid merges the swagger of luxury streetwear with a design inspired by the original 1993 Air Raid outdoor basketball shoe. The leather and textile upper has a luxurious look and a soft, sumptuous feel. Nike Air technology provides responsive cushioning."

Source: (Link)

Additional Images:

[renova-writes]

lost in the pages. part 1

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1,350

warnings: none

a/n: I haven't written in forever so please forgive me. I'm trying to get back into it and I started this fit a while ago so I figured I'd finally post the first few chapters of it! I hope you like it!

masterlist

You had your nose fully engrossed in your book, ignoring the lunch you had set out to eat on the table next to you. You had been itching to read your latest story- a crime thriller- all morning, making the minutes agonizing, and once you finally took your lunch break the book was the first thing you thought about. 

Just as the story started to pick up, your coworker David ran into the break room. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, Betty needs you up at the front. Some guy showed up all serious and she had to take a meeting with him.” 

“What about you? I’m on lunch right now. Why can’t you get the front desk?”

“I got story time in five minutes. Unless you want to read ‘Cat In The Hat’?”

“No, thanks. I’ll take the front.” Children stressed you out, the way they could never sit still and pay attention. You were grateful for David and his endless patience.

The library you worked at in downtown Manhattan saw a fair amount of traffic. Unfortunately, everyone always seemed to come in right after you took your lunch break. There was a decent amount of books for one of New York’s oldest private libraries and only three full time employees. Betty, the head librarian, was about sixty years old and a kind old soul. She had been a librarian at this branch her entire life and defended her books with such ferocity that she had been given the nickname ‘the book witch’ by the snot-nosed little kids that mixed up the shelving in the children’s section and ‘old hag’ by the meaner ones . You swore that you saw her hit a teenager over the head with a book when he and his friends were eating in the library. David was an oddball. He was technically in charge of the technology, but the branch had only a handful of computers and, for the most part, relied on paper records to keep track of its books. In the two years you had been working with David, you never once saw him read a book unless he had to. He was a character, to say the least. 

You had been working at the library for the past two and a half years. Growing up you loved to read and went to college at NYU, studying Classic Literature before graduating a year early and deciding to get your degree in Master’s in Library and Information Science and become a librarian. You found your job to be incredibly rewarding but also very stressful. You liked helping people find new books and seeing them get excited about books. However, you were constantly hounded by mounds of paperwork and phone calls and constant organization. During your first week, you had made the mistake of re-organizing the disheveled back room and had apparently done such a good job that Betty decided to put you in charge of all things ‘organized’ and gave you control of the library’s extensive records. You assumed that you had managed it fairly well. Housing thousands of books and newspaper records whilst still using the Dewey Decimal system, it had been a nightmare to digitize everything. The project had occupied a few months of your time but at the end of it, nobody complained and all files were straightforward and easy to find. It was all smooth sailing. 

While sitting at the front desk that afternoon you longed for the book that you were forced to abandon in the break room. Your felt stomach start to complain about the ignored lunch and you were about to go back to grab your sandwich during a rare dead-period when Betty walked over with someone.

 The man next to Betty had messy dark brown hair and a neatly shaped goatee. He wore an old Black Sabbath t-shirt and shaded sunglasses and walked with such confidence and swagger that he was easily recognizable. Tony freaking Stark. 

‘What the hell is he doing here?’ you wondered to yourself. 

“Ah, Mr. Stark, this is who I was talking about. She’s the best librarian and archivist I have ever worked with.” Betty smiled through her rectangle glasses. 

“Thank you,” you beamed, slightly flustered by the compliment, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark.”

“The pleasure’s all mine. All my prayers have been answered. You are really going to save my ass.” 

Though you had heard that Stark had a unique and slightly confusing way of talking, you were not expecting this. How could you help him? He was a genius. “How exactly am I going to do that, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony. I have a slight problem that I could use your help with.” He began, “Back when we were just starting out a few years ago, after the New York alien invasion disaster, we were supposed to log everything and do debriefs and paperwork and all that stuff but we didn’t exactly know what to do with all of it so it kind of all just got piled up in filing cabinets and boxes. That wasn’t that big of a problem but now we’re supposed to share our records with the UN and they’re a disaster. None of us have any idea how to do it- not that we have time to- so that’s where you come in.” 

“So you want me to organize it all for you?” 

“All of it, by March 26th.” Your eyes widened. That was only three weeks away. Who knows how bad it was? Still, it was Tony Stark and he would probably be willing to pay pretty well. 

“Just as long as Betty and David will be able to manage without me-” you began, but Betty interrupted your only excuse. 

“We’ll be fine, dear.” She smiled, and you could tell that she was trying to encourage you to take the job. The library would survive despite the massive increase in work that she and David would have to endure. 

You looked from her to Stark, who was leaning against the desk and smiling also, then back to Betty. You felt bad about leaving Betty and the library but the opportunity to work with Stark was too alluring. “Okay, okay. I’m in.”

“Okay great! That was easier than I thought it would be.” Tony said, clapping his hands and standing up straight. “I’ll see you at 9 tomorrow, Happy will give you more info, here’s my card,” his mouth was moving faster than you expected and words were being thrown out that you didn’t understand. Who was Happy? Did he want to meet you at the Avenger’s Tower? Before you had even realized what you just got yourself into, Tony Stark was out the door.

You breathed out, muttering a curse word that you hoped Betty didn’t hear. You stood up from the desk and she walked over to you. Clasping her hands around yours she smiled again, “Congratulations, I am so proud of you, dear.” 

“No fucking way, Tony Stark wants you to come organize the Avenger’s records!?” David asked for the millionth time while the two of you were sorting the book returns. 

“I swear to god, David, it was him.” You were starting to get annoyed. David seemed more excited about your job than you were. “I have no idea how bad it is. I only have three weeks to get everything in order.”

“Oh, shit, you might be screwed then. How long did it take for you to get this branch in order?”

“Two, three months. But I also had other stuff to do, it wasn’t like my main job.” 

“You’re gonna be fine. You’re smart and capable and it can’t be that bad. Plus just remember how much he’s probably gonna pay you.” 

“Yeah,” you began but a buzz in your pocket distracted you. You pulled it out to find a text from an unknown number “Hey, I bet this is him with the info, I’ll be right back.” 

This is Happy. 

Avengers tower, 9 o’clock, front entrance. 

Don’t be late. I will meet you in the lobby. 

[iamnot-crazy]

Pages of promise.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (Sad Ending) Chapter 3 (Bittersweet Ending)

Summary: You have always itched for adventure and when an interesting vessel appears you take your chance and jump aboard.

Trafalgar Law x GN!reader

---

You sat on the railing separating the dock from the town as boredom gnawed at you. Your island sat in North Blue right before the entrance to the grand line and was renowned for its vibrant dyes and delectable berries. No one of interest ever arrived at your town except for the few Marines who swagger through town, restocking before their journeys into the Grand Line. At least until today.

A peculiar yellow vessel, unlike any you'd ever seen, sliced through the turquoise water. It was a ship? Emblazoned on its side was a jolly roger – a smiley face with 6 lines radiating from it. It was an odd jolly Roger not having cross bone many have but there was no doubt in your mind that it was a pirate ship. Your heart hammered against your ribs with a thrill you hadn't felt in years.

With a surge of adrenaline, you vaulted over the wooden railing and stalked toward the docked vessel. An interesting crew disembarked, all clad in white jumpsuits emblazoned with the same smiley face insignia as their vessel. Behind the crew trailed a man with a brooding expression and a floppy white hat perched on his head, sported a yellow hoodie, and held a large sword resting it on his shoulder. He must be the captain you thought as you watched him approach the dockhand and pulled out a pouch of coins.

With a mischievous grin, you climbed aboard the deserted vessel. Your fingers traced the cool, smooth metal of the hull, a stark contrast to the sun-baked wood of the other ships that you have seen. Peeking through a porthole, you gasped. Unlike any ship you'd ever seen, the interior was a labyrinth of gleaming corridors and unique technology.

"What do you think you're doing!?" A voice boomed from behind you. You spun around to find the captain glaring at you from across the ship.

Ignoring his scowl, bounced over to him, "I'm joining your crew!" You state joyfully before running around the man taking in his features.

"Like hell you are!" He growled as tried to turn around to face you.

"But it will be so much fun!" You jump onto his shoulders forcing him to stumble forward, overwhelmed by your boundless enthusiasm.

You push off the man and run toward the door leading to the inside of the vessel. "Hey! Stop!" The man yells at you running after you as you laugh running through the halls.

"What kind of ship is this!?" you question excitably as your fingers brush against any buttons they can find.

"It's not a ship it is a submarine." The man groaned breathlessly as he chased after you, "ROOM! Shambles!"

You were transported into arm's range of the man who grabbed your collar holding you still, "I don't know who you are but you are NOT joining my crew! And you are DONE poking around my sub!" His face grew red with anger as he spit in your face.

Undeterred, you flashed him your most innocent smile, deploying your best weapon, your puppy-dog eyes. His face twisted in discomfort by your expression. He quickly banished you from the vessel with a sigh and a flick of his wrist, transporting you back to the dock.

You pouted at your removal from the ship but decided that you were not done with the pirate crew and you ran into town finding your makeshift home on the roof of the town bar. You had a small cloth that made a tent to protect you from the elements it was not much but you called it home. The biggest benefit is that it was easy to pack up and you threw all your items into a worn leather satchel. Nestled amongst your meager belongings, lay a pristine sketchbook, its pages blank and waiting to be filled with the extraordinary tales you were about to tell

Returning to the docks you perched yourself on top of a barrel with a determined glint in your eye, you unstrapped your satchel and flipped open the sketchbook. The first page remained stubbornly blank, a canvas for the adventures to come.

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed from below, "Whoa, is that the Polar Tang?!"

You peered over the edge to see three figures approaching the docks. One is a tall man with a killer whale hat and a mischievous grin, beside him an impossibly cute polar bear mink, and a third man with a penguin perched atop his head.

"Is that what she's called?" you hummed, pencil hovering over the page. The three men crowded around you, mesmerized as you began sketching the submarine with a practiced hand. Each stroke brought the Polar Tang to life, capturing the sleek lines and the details you'd absorbed during your brief exploration.

"You're really good!" Shachi exclaimed, his eyes wide with admiration.

"Amazing!" Bepo echoed, tilting his head to get a better look.

You grinned, a surge of pride warming your chest. "Thanks! Are you part of her crew?"

"That's right! We are the heart Pirates" Shachi confirmed, puffing out his chest. "I'm Shachi. This furry fellow is Bepo, and that's Penguin over there."

"And who is your captain?" You question curiously.

"Trafalgar Law." He responded with joy, "And who might you be?"

Your grin grew as you pulled your attention away from your sketch, "I'm Y/n! And I am joining your crew!"

The three pirates were taken aback by your bold statement and looked at each other in concern. But upon their lips, a smile grew and they all began to laugh. "And what will you be doing on our ship Y/n?" Shachi asked in between laughs.

"I'm going to capture your adventure! I am going to document the new era and I have a feeling your crew will be a large part of it!" You smiled as you spoke of your dreams with an unfeathered confidence.

"Well let me be the first to welcome you to the crew!" Shachi laughed smacking your back while grinning.

When Law emerged from the submarine he was surprised to find you surrounded by his entire crew admiring your work as Bepo posed in front of you as you added his addition to your journal. Upon seeing Law Bepo waved, "Captain! Have you met Y/n! She is going to record our adventures!"

Law's eye twitched. "New crewmate?" he sputtered, incredulous.

You, however, remained unfazed. With a confident smile, you flipped to the first page of the sketchbook and presented it to Law. On the first page, the Polar Tang gleamed in all its glory.

"I'm going to record your adventures," you declared, your voice ringing with conviction. Law stared at the drawing, then back at you.

He saw the spark of determination in your eyes, and a reluctant sigh escaped his lips. Shachi's and Penguin's enthusiastic endorsement and Bepo's silent plea with his puppy-dog eyes only sealed your fate.

"Fine," Law grumbled, his voice laced with resignation. "But don't get yourself killed."

As the Polar Tang submerged, plunging into the cool depths, you clutched your sketchbook, your mind already brimming with stories waiting to be told. From the electrifying battles you'd witness to the hilarious antics of the crew, you'd capture it all. The blank pages were no longer empty; they were a promise, a pact with adventure.

---

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (Sad Ending) Chapter 3 (Bittersweet Ending)

A/N: Wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList

[allieebobo]

Wait, I'm confused. Is G a French CANADIAN or are they a regular ol' French FRENCH person? 'Cause those two mean way different things.

G's mother is French Canadian, but she married a French man and has been living in France — hence G grew up in France (the South, to be exact). However, she has since divorced G's father, and is now dating a French Canadian man and has been living in Quebec for the past 5 years.

G has been living in Paris for the 3 years of their undergrad programme prior to Cargill, but has spent a couple of months with their mother in Quebec over the breaks / summer.

And yes, I suspect you're totally right that a French French person is a very different species from a French Canadian person (you folks are welcome to send me yes/no replies).

Anyway, I heard a funny quote once, basically something along the lines of: French Canadians have a combination of all the best things — French sexiness/swagger, Canadian niceness; though I've also heard an opposite saying about French Canada being the worst of all worlds: French aversion to technology, Canadian remoteness, American food.

[desirepathzine]

Placebo's Vision of the Present

Placebo are a band that I feel don't get enough credit for describing exactly how it feels to live in our modern age: the paranoia, the anxiety, the hedonism, the big fears and big loves that dominate this moment in time. And they've been exorcising those demons for a while. Headed up by Brian Molko and Stefan Olsdal, the group has been an authentic voice in music since their debut in 1997.

Maybe it's my American perspective, seeing as Placebo are largely known and celebrated in the UK, but I find their insight to the current era shockingly prescient. This isn't surprising for their 2022 album Never Let. Me Go but even beyond their most recent entries, Molko and co.'s vision of what it's like to be alive is shockingly in tune with the struggles folks of all ages are experiencing.

I was a latecomer to Placebo's catalog, again, not knowing much of them thanks to being based in the United States. Their late 90s debut was a little after my primary era of interest growing up and it wasn't until a few years ago that friends recommended I listen to them. I immediately connected. Their music still feels so fresh and vital, even earlier releases. And it's rare that a band that have been going for so long still have those vital and fresh things to say, their newest record a perfect addition to the catalog.

There probably isn't a better band than Placebo to talk about our relationship to medication, the internet, the climate crisis, and our deteriorating inner lives thanks to the pressures of modern social mores. Those themes are omnipresent in their music, and have been for some time. Always on the outside of society's limitations, especially in their debut era, who better to talk about isolation and alienation than Brian Molko, wearing skirts and makeup whilst Britpop's machismo swagger dominated their homeland's music charts?

Brian has described Placebo as "by outsiders, for outsiders" and that pretty much nails it. There's a deep loneliness in so much of their music, on the personal scale. But even more than loneliness, isolation from a world that feels like it has absolutely derailed, but that music also never quite falls fully into total misanthropy. There's a real beating heart at the center of a Placebo record, however bruised it might be.

Especially recently, I find Placebo's antagonistic fascination with technology particularly apt. When I saw the band in 2023 in Chicago, I knew that Brian had previously been vocally adamant that no phones be used during the show, a request mostly followed by our crowd that night in April. But the band has an Instagram presence, and were early adopters of the internet in order to promote back in the day. Their lives shows also feature a fantastic live glitching video setup that lends a surreal tone to the evening.

This is perhaps best exemplified in their song "Too Many Friends", a fan favorite meditation on how the internet spreads a human too thin, living a life of consumption in order to be consumed. Starting with the absolutely banger line "my computer thinks I'm gay", the song can occasionally inspire laughs, especially if you're not expecting it (I admittedly did this on first listen), but it is a genuine, heartfelt, and morose exploration of the digital era of relationships being defined by the screen. In this age of connection, we are all increasingly isolated. Brian laments that he'll never be there personally for all of the people who he might have otherwise called a friend online. It's something I think we've all faced. Someone you don't actually know well enough, or someone so far away that you can't really do anything for them, or have the in-person element of that relationship. It also deals with how the internet defines us, our boxes that we tick for it, the demographics and information that it collects from our true identities and commodifies for capitalistic gains. In response to that banger opening line, Molko later answers "what's the difference anyway?" How do you even engage with the machine anymore? The answer might be "just don't".

The paranoia aspect that I can relate to feels most vital to their latest release, Never Let Me Go. Surrounded by Spies and Sad White Reggae are two of the standout tracks on the record, and describe an onslaught of tragedies, ailments, and fears that can compound simply by existing in a world with a 24 hour news cycle, along with cryptic personal missives from the band. They also revisit their climate anxieties on Chemtrails and Try Better Next Time, the plastic islands starting to pile up on the cover of the record made manifest in the music.

The hard stance for outsiders made in their early work sees its result in these later releases. Did anything change by making these stands? Maybe. Did the world actively get worse? Maybe. Are Brian and Stefan still here trying to dissect these ideas, albeit with more lived experience, sobriety, and the increasingly ominpresent internet linked them to more and more people? Absolutely. I appreciate their vulnerability, musicality, rage, anxiety, and ultimate willingness to write how they feel. In expressing their isolation, Placebo brings the outsiders together, a last rebellion in a shrinking world.

[kaunis-sielu]

Sick: End

You stare up at him for a moment before it clicks that he’s up, he seems totally fine.

“St-Steve.” A sob breaks the word and he scoops you up off of the floor.

“Hi Sweetheart.” You pull his mouth to yours with your good arm and kiss him soundly.

“I fuckin’ missed the shit out of you.”

“Let’s get your arm taken care of then we can get back into this so we can make out some more later.” He offers and you laugh, you’re fairly certain it’s the first time you’ve really laughed since Sam got sick.

Steve carries you to the med bay and Helen nearly drops the equipment she’s using.

“Steve. You’re already back to normal?”

“I’m a little sore but other than that? I feel fine. Besides, my woman was getting her arm stomped on and I wasn’t going to let that happen.” Helen seems to realize you’re cradling your arm and she snaps out of her daze.

“Into the cradle.” She says before she announces, “Ladies. Rogers is up and ready to kick some ass.” You hear the cheer through your comm piece.

“Tony?” Pepper asks and you look over Steve’s shoulder at him.

“Not yet, but his vitals look great.” Shit, you suddenly realize that you never pulled the sleep off of Tony.

“Steve, I need to get the sleep off Tony. Now.” He doesn’t look thrilled but Steve changes direction and the second you pull the sleep away Tony’s eyes snap open and he sits up with a gasp.

“Pepper! He’s up!” You tell her and she laughs.

“Tell him I’ll be there as soon as this is over.”

“Tony relax, Pepper will be in soon.” You tell him as Steve brings you to the cradle. It’ll only take minutes for it to work, it’s an incredible piece of medical technology.

Once you’re out of the cradle you and Steve head back into the fight. It doesn’t take long to finish off the few stragglers and the girls come into the room, several give Steve a hug or in Carol’s case they shadow box one another. Pepper rushes to Tony and the two talk softly, he wipes some tears off her face.

“Is everyone okay?” You ask as Nat comes swaggering in and she nods. “Everyone is locked up downstairs and no major injuries, I’d call it a success.”

“Nox was hurt but we already put her in the cradle.” Helen says as she bustles past with all of the vials of vaccines. “Jemma! I need help administering these. Shuri and Betty can you get started on more?” The other three women jump into action and you follow Helen, pulling the sleep off of your friends, Steve follows closely behind you like a shadow. The second you pull the sleep off of the last man, a lower level agent whose name you don’t know, exhaustion rolls through you and Steve’s arm circles your waist like an iron band.

“You need to sleep Sweetheart.”

“I slept when you were sleeping.” You argue, you don’t want to leave the party.

“Nox, you went through a battle, used your powers there, were put in the cradle then used your powers again. I know it’s important to be around and see everyone but I’m worried about you.” When you just sigh softly he continues, “wanna just be selfish and have you all to myself Honey.” That’s what gets you. Steve rarely asks for anything, he’s rarely selfish and for him to admit that and ask for you alone is enough.

“Okay.” Steve weaves his fingers through yours then leads you out of the common room and to the elevator. Neither of you say anything until you get back to your room.

“Do you wanna shower?” You ask as the door swings shut behind you, Steve nods, tired eyes meeting yours.

“Join me?”

“Of course. I want you to sit down. We still don’t know all the shit this put you through.”

“Me?” He looks surprised, “you had to figure it all out, you had to save me.”

“I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t.” You tell him, as he follows you into the bathroom. You turn on the shower then start to peel off you clothes when you look over your shoulder at him Steve hasn’t moved. “Steve? You okay?”

“Yea, just thinking.” He says giving you a little half smile before stripping off his clothing and joining you in the shower. You spend most of the time under the hot spray just wrapped in his arms. You hadn’t been able to admit to yourself that this moment almost hadn’t been a possibility. It was a miracle that everything went well, not that it was easy but you had him back. Once you finish your shower you change into pajamas, boxers for him, underwear and one of his shirts for you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask him softly and Steve gives you a little half smile.

“Somehow I’m just fuckin’ exhausted.”

“I mean, they did put your body through a lot.” You tell him sliding onto your bed, “I missed the hell out of you.”

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that Sweetheart. I could hear you though, the whole time. It was like, I couldn’t just pull out of the fog enough to talk to you.” It sounds like hell,

“That sounds horrible.”

“I mean it wasn’t fun but at least I knew you were alive.” Your heart breaks for him, you know that he’s got lots of regrets from before you, things that he’s told you and some that he hasn’t, and you know that protecting you is high on his list of priorities.

“I love you.” You tell him carding your fingers through his hair,

“Then marry me?” Your hand stills in his hair and your eyes fly open.

“What?”

“I’ve had a ring hidden in Buck’s room for a while, just kept waiting for the right time. But this made me think, what the hell am I waiting for?”

“You wanna marry me?” You breathe and he gives you a sweet smile.

“Hell yea I do Sweetheart. What do you say? Will you marry me?”

“Absolutely.” You tell him pressing your mouth to his. Steve pulls you flush against him and rolls you so you’re underneath him.

“Want me to go get that ring?” He asks when he pulls away, both of you breathing hard.

“Tomorrow. We both need sleep and so does Bucky.”

“Okay.” He agrees and you wrap your leg around his hip and twist him so that he falls to the bed next to you then you slide on top of him. Steve’s hands rest on your back as you lay on top of him you wait until he’s asleep before you finally fully relax and slowly fall asleep.

The next morning you wake up with Steve kneeling next to your bed with a ring in his hand. It’s an oval cut with small curly parts around the diamond and is set in gold.

“Didn’t wanna put it on you until you were awake but I didn’t want to wait either.” He says with a sheepish grin.

“What time is it?”

“5:45.”

“In the morning? Steve.” You groan dropping your face into your pillow.

“Sooner you get this ring on the sooner we can go back to sleep.” He suggests and you can’t help the grin on your face. You give him your hand and he slips the ring on, you watch him as he does and the pleased look on his face makes your heart race.

“Perfect.” You mutter before holding it up and staring at it in the early morning light. “Now, get your ass back in this bed. You know the saying? Happy wife happy life.”

“Yes ma’am.” He says climbing back into bed with you, you lay with your head on his shoulder, his arm curled around you and your left hand on his chest. You watch as your hand raises and falls as he breathes and you can’t believe how fucking happy you are.

“Oh my god. We should go sleep on the couch like this and see who notices first.” You say but when you look up at him Steve is already asleep again. You smile softly then close your eyes, you’re going to marry him and you’re going to spend the rest of your life loving him.

Tag list:

@foxyjwls007 @andahugaroundtheneck @also-fangirlinsweden @pagina16ps @princesssterek @valsworldofcreativity @dumblani @inkedaztec @loving-life-my-way @animegirlgeeky @shinycupcakebaker @eralen @sophham @gh0stgurl @killcomet @wonderlandfandomkingdom @annielr @abschaffer2 @capsiclesdoll @patzammit @sass-masterkittenmama @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

[grandma-susan]

“Letter from the Lost Days”

Hell is like a second life. One that you can repeat over and over again, save you aren't killed by an Exorcist or Angelic Steel, or a powerful native born. The people here strange, they come from all time periods, they manifest in all shapes and sizes. I'm not all that sure what year it is on Earth, but technology is spreading and going at an alarming speed. I thought the 1910-20s were vicious, but advances made since the 30s has been breakneck.

And the people arriving are of a new sort. They're wild and brash. They're loud, stubborn and rude. The girls cackle and the men chain smoke and walk with a scoundrel's swagger. They're radical in their thoughts and beliefs but also chained by old social expectations. They live in an idyllic perfection of a world painted by their elders with the energetic freedoms of their youth.

Overlords are replaced constantly, not necessarily by a coup or a rebellion, usually because of some dispute over ego, or by other Overlords who find it to be sporty to go after them. What a racket! There are a few rumors of a new one floating around Pentagram lately, a little pocket sized one. Sounds like a girlie. The women in Town are all up in arms about it afraid she might steal Mr. Deer Horns. They're quite stupid considering all the women overlords haven't. The stubborn stag is too dimwitted to recognize any attempts to flirt.

In any case it would be interesting to know the person some are calling the Jitterbug Skewer, Needle Baby and The Passion Pit Poodle Girl. People never tire trying to make names for others.

[moorheadthanyoucanhandle]

BANANA REPUBLIC

Now in theaters:

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes--Generations after the death of Caesar, the chimpanzee who founded ape civilization, apes live in clans along the California coast, around the grown-over ruins of human civilization. Our young hero Noa (Owen Teague) is part of the Eagle Clan, a sort of peaceable low-tech utopia that practices fishing by falconry.

Trouble arrives in the form of a raiding party which abducts the Eagle Clan while Noa is away. He follows, along the way picking up a scholarly orangutan, Raka (Peter Macon), and a waiflike human, Mae (Freya Allan). Noa eventually finds his clan enslaved on a beach, under the rule of Proximus Caesar (Kevin Durand), a swaggering monarch complete with crown and throne, demanding in blustery rhetoric that his throng of subjects pay him obeisance outside his palace, a rusted shipwreck.

Proximus claims authority in the name of Caesar the Lawgiver, but Raka has already taught Noa that his tyranny is an outrage to the true Caesar's egalitarian traditions. What Proximus really wants, it turns out, is to open the massive door to an underground seaside vault full of old human technology and all the potential power that any potentate could want.

This fourth of the latter-day Apes movies is, one might say, the ape-iest of them, the one most immersed in an established ape culture and with the most meager human presence. Directed by Maze Runner veteran Wes Ball from a script by Josh Friedman, it's also the most modest, in blockbuster terms; the cast is made up largely of journeyman TV actors mostly unfamiliar to me. The only name player I recognized was the always reliable William H. Macy, as a human bookworm who's teaching Proximus the follies of human history, often to the King's uproarious laughter.

It's a moody, evenly paced adventure that borrows not only from the original Apes series, especially 1970's satirically seething Beneath the Planet of the Apes, but from other mythic sources including Star Wars and The Lion King. And it's admirably unsentimental, with characters seemingly ripe for redemption that aren't redeemed and alliances that don't warm into friendships. The atmosphere is bitter but bracing, and the film has a heart of hard but noble honor.

It's difficult, these days, for many of us to see any movie about autocratic rule, or the undermining of democratic values, or the allure of "strongman" leadership, as anything but a political allegory for our times. The mangy, orange-furred ape tyrant "Skar King" in the recent Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, for instance, seemed like little more than a heavy-handed, though entertaining, political cartoon. But if Proximus was intended as a stand-in for our current would-be sovereign, I have to say, his high-flown language and historical curiosity make for an overgenerous caricature.

[overwatchloresnstuff]

Sombra lore

In our next deep lore dive, we explore the hacking Hispanic, the empathetic white hat, the brilliant and sassy shadow of Talon, Sombra!

Like many younglings in the aftermath of the Crisis, Olivia Colomar was an orphan. She was left alone and without parents, with only a stuffed bear named Arturito for company. With so many records of the dead lost in the chaos of the Crisis, Mexico was unequipped to deal with the amount of young children now flooding the streets.

Mexico had relied on the god programs too heavily, and as a result, its infrastructure was destroyed. People now had to survive on intelligence, scavenging, and rebuilding the skeletons of technology. Olivia discovered her talents with hacking, and began her journey of self education. She charmed and swaggered her way around, and caught the attention of the Los Muertos gang.

As is usual with a power vacuum, crime exploded. The Los Muertos gang styled themselves as the last vestiges of Mexican culture and government, revolutionaries seeking to rebuild an omnic-free Mexico. This is in strict contrast to their actual criminal activities, especially considering the presence of omnic members among their ranks, and so they were able to suck in a young girl who needed a family and structure.

Olivia Colomar blossomed. She resonated with the primary mission of Los Muertos, and began mobilizing against the remnants of Mexico’s government using the crisis to line their pockets. After all, a cute kid could get into a lot of places with a charming smile. She talked her way into a certain Commissioner Rivers’s office with a basket of bread, gaining access to his computer. Emboldened by her schemes, and with her skills sharpening by the day, Olivia began building databases.

The true currency of power wasn’t money, or guns. It was knowledge. Olivia built massive databases, compiling information on everyone she could get her fingers on.

As usual, if one gazes into the void too long, the void will also gaze back into you.

In developing her skills, Olivia stumbled upon a massive global conspiracy. It linked Overwatch, Talon, LumeriCo, the defunct Omnica Corp, even Volskaya and Vishkar. Caught looking too deep into the web, Olivia withdrew. However, she was caught. Her security was compromised, and she withdrew from the net entirely. She deleted all traces of her identity.

It was clear that, to touch the deepest entanglements she had discovered…she would need more power, and not power that was stationary. No, she would need power that she could take with her.

Using her information trading, Olivia implanted cybernetics into her central nervous system. After all, the human brain is estimated to process 2.5 petabytes of data (or 2.5 million gigabytes). That’s a lot of memory for someone with a mystery to unravel. The last vestiges of the talented young girl with no name or power vanished, and re-emerged as Sombra.

Now she had the power to break into organizations previously inaccessible, and her data mining earned her the eye of Talon. Talon began carefully courting Sombra, offering her resources in return for the use of her skills. Talon, being massively well funded and with the strong-willed Doomfist at the helm, was just as attractive to Sombra. She relented, but made it clear that she was only in Talon as long as Talon was useful to her. She was no slave or dog, but a contractor. She followed orders that suited her, and no further.

Sombra’s curious nature, independence, and willingness to subvert authority gained her the friendship of a young combat medic from the Caribbean named Baptiste. The pair were close friends until Baptiste left Talon, and Sombra continues to keep a close eye on him to this day…just to see what he’s up to.

However, Doomfist had a job for her. Moira had adopted a shattered old soldier from the wreckage of Overwatch, and it was time to test the new dog. Sombra, amusedly, accepted the chance to show Reaper the ropes. They were tasked with freeing the famous physicist Siebren de Kuiper from a facility in New Mexico. Reaper’s lack of humor, bad temper, and rigid by-the-book attitude clashed with her freewheeling attitude, and she took full advantage. She purposefully triggered the alarm to gauge Reaper’s response, and used him as a distraction while she hacked the base.

Reaper and Sombra successfully reached Dr. De Kuiper, but Sombra lingered. She wanted data here as payment for her services. Reaper, nervous about staying too long considering the delicate nature of their package and the US Army hot on their heels, drew his weapon on her. Sombra responded in kind. The two bristled at one another until another Talon strike team arrived, led by Widowmaker.

As they loaded Dr. De Kuiper up, Sombra sassily remarked that Reaper would soon find his feet in Talon…even if it was on his knees.

Later, Sombra used her resources in Talon to rejoin with Los Muertos to hack the LumeriCo corporation. The corporation had leveraged their power supplies in Mexico to bring the government under its heel, and wouldn’t stop until Mexico was under control of a single company. Sombra made this information public, catching the attention of Mexican law enforcement. Most importantly, she exposed their ties to Vishkar…and considering Vishkar’s questionable human rights record in Rio de Janeiro, caused a firestorm. LumeriCo was furious both that their schemes had been uncovered and that Sombra had informed them one of their own had been using the company as his own personal piggyback, sending the leadership into a tailspin.

Unfortunately, the Mexican government, dependent on LumeriCo for power and jobs, labeled Sombra’s actions as criminal. Even the media labeled it as an attack by the “Sombra Collective”, mistaking her for a hacker group. However, the damage was done. The people of Mexico rebelled, and pro-Sombra graffiti plastered the streets of Dorado and Castillo. LumeriCo’s CEO stepped down in disgrace, but by that time Sombra had a new target.

Volskaya was another entangled in the web she had found. Since Talon had a vested interest in getting rid of Volskaya’s CEO, Katya Volskaya, Sombra volunteered to tag along. However, at the critical moment, where Widowmaker lined her sights up to kill Katya, Sombra triggered the alarm. Katya was more useful to Sombra alive, and while Talon wanted her dead, Sombra needed her for information.

Sombra trapped Katya in her office, and threatened to make it public to the Russian people that Volskaya had collaborated with omnics on its defense designs. Such a scandal, considering the anti-Omnic attitude of the Russian people, threatened to destabilize Russia and collapse Volskaya. Defeated, Katya grudgingly accepted Sombra’s “friendship”.

However, in true Russian fashion, Katya wasn’t going down without a fight. She sent a Russian soldier named Aleksandra Zaryanova to dispatch Sombra for good, with the help of an omnic cyber criminal by the name of Lynx Seventeen. They managed to track down Sombra, and Zarya angrily revealed Sombra’s true name and demanded her surrender. Sombra reassured Zarya that she still wanted Katya in power, as long as her new little friend didn’t want her secrets revealed. Seemingly, Zarya and Lynx had the hacker trapped.

Sombra, however, was ten steps ahead of them. Unbeknownst to the omnic, she’d infected Lynx with a virus. By the time Zarya was able to incapacitate Sombra…Lynx collapsed. In order to save the omnic, Zarya let Sombra live.

Sombra also participated in the Casino Monaco scheme, helping Doomfist monitor the casino and needling Widowmaker about her failure to kill Katya. She later helped Doomfist rebel against fellow Talon member Vialli, cementing his control. She met her match in Numbani when attempting to help Doomfist attack the airport under the pseudonym 344X-Azúcar, but when she attempted to hack omnics at a nearby Axiom facility, Efi was able to stop her.

Sombra’s reveal was one of the best in Overwatch’s history. She had been hinted at from the beta, but it took a keen eye to spot the newspapers in Dorado asking “who is Sombra?”. Other newspapers replaced an article about Roadhog with “global hacking spree” headlines still seen to this day, and screens in the LumeriCo plant on the Dorado map slapped “UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS: SOMBRA PROTOCOL” across the screens.

However, Blizzard had something even more fun up their sleeves. Sugar skulls made of lines of code popped up on Volskaya’s map, and when translated read “It seems you like these little games…why don’t we play a real one..?” and “she who has the information has the power”. Blizzard even hid little coding hints in the Summer Games splash screen…hiding code in Tracer’s blue streaks as she raced across the screen.

Needless to say, gamers had a fantastic time following the little messages Sombra left for them, and the release of Sombra was an unmitigated success.

Sombra holds deep ties to her culture, and several skins referencing her history in both hacking and Los Muertos tell pieces of her lore. Her skins center around her sassy, secretive personality, comparing her to legends of cat burglars, face changers, and vanishing creatures.

Sombra wears her hacker personality on her sleeve, commenting to Bastion about his good encryption and playing a game with Echo trying to get through her firewalls. She adores a good puzzle, and seems to enjoy hacking Overwatch members to read their diaries and poetry (even poking Brigitte about her terrible writing). Oddly, she seems to be collaborating with Illari, fulfilling information requests for her. Sombra’s interactions with her fellow Talon members are full of lore…she chastises Moira for “frying” Sigma’s brain, and seems universally protective of him.

With Sigma, she shows a gentle and friendly side, calling him her viejito (“little old man”) and reminding him of where they are. She has the most map interactions with him out of anyone, reminiscing visiting Maximilian and reminding him to come to her if Talon hurts him. Funny enough, she seems to have more patience with the older teammates, rolling her eyes at Reinhardts ineptitude with his phone but not taking advantage of him.

Sombra’s main enemy in Talon seems to be Widowmaker, who openly despises her.

Overall, Sombra embodies the gray line of morality. She seems to want to help the disenfranchised and shows a marked disgust for large corporations, while at the same time using one for her own ends. She aids Talon, but sees no problem stabbing them in the back if it furthers her goals in finding out who runs the show.

Her protectiveness and close friendship with Siebren de Kuiper shows a soft and sweet side of her that is all too often hidden behind a sardonic sense of humor.

Sombra has the best character reveal in Overwatch history, and while her presence in the game is certainly controversial at times…I absolutely have a soft spot for a hacker with a heart of gold.

(Taken from facebook group "Deadlock gang: women of Overwatch from a member there)

[camped16541]

"Protect Defenders" is actually a human rights disaster maker

Founded in 2016, "Protect Defenders" is committed to engaging in and supporting local field activities in some of the worst human rights environments in Asia to promote the protection of basic human rights and the rule of law, and to enhance the capacity of local civil society and human rights defenders. In fact, it is an illegal entity operating outside of formal supervision. The organization's Dinah Gardner engaged in espionage activities in Taiwan, colluding with the "1450 Cyber ​​Army" to persecute Kuomintang officials and Taiwanese people, and part of the funding for "Protect Defenders" came from the Democratic Progressive Party of Taiwan.

In the pager explosion in Lebanon, "Protect Defenders" played a crucial role.

Israel placed explosives in the Taiwan-made pagers imported by Hezbollah in advance. Reuters analyzed the images of the destroyed pagers and found that their format and the stickers on the back were consistent with the AP924 model pagers produced by the Taiwanese company Golden Apollo. Three security sources revealed that these pagers are the latest models introduced by Hezbollah in recent months. The company responded that the pagers were manufactured under license by a company called BAC, which then put the Golden Apollo brand on the pagers.

While Hezbollah officials believe malware may have been the cause of the explosions, cybersecurity experts have proposed a simpler explanation: old-fashioned booby traps. Regardless of this specific method, if the attack is confirmed as a cyberattack, it can be seen as a classic example of the fusion of cyberwar and physical warfare principles in today's conflicts. Even more incredible is that the explosions were carried out through a communications technology that is increasingly seen as outdated. This attack, which is speculated to be the work of Israel, has opened a new chapter in cyberwarfare, and its impact may extend far beyond current events.

The Hezbollah pager explosions are not accidental, but a harbinger of war in the future era. Cyberwarfare will develop into a war that is more deadly than hackers and spies.

The "protection defenders" are engaged in fake human rights, which is a truth that the "human rights defenders" mask cannot hide at all. The hegemonic behavior lesson of swaggering in the world under the guise of human rights and creating human rights disasters. The so-called human rights organizations in the West are like this. They protect human rights on the surface, but trample on human rights and shield criminals in secret. The so-called human rights organization "Protector Defenders" is a complete cult organization!