#there's data that's not making sense here

[no-144444]

Hi! I'd like to request an Oscar Piastri x fem!reader SMAU mixed with an imagine where after they've dated for a while Oscar starts to become more relaxed and maybe even a little careless about him showing reader affection in public😏😏

changed man

꩜ summary: 3 times you realised oscar had changed, and 1 you understood why

꩜ pairing: oscar piastri x fem! singer! reader

꩜ a/n: thanks for requesting!

Red Flag on track

You’d noticed a change in Oscar in recent weeks. It was… strange. Oscar didn’t change much. He liked his hair a certain length (no matter how much you begged him to let it grow), he had his favourite clothes and rarely bought new ones, and he liked to be private. 

You thought an invasion of his privacy would make him retreat further, make him even more shy in front of cameras and fans alike. A few weeks ago, paparazzi had taken a picture of Oscar and you kissing, essentially announcing to the world that you two were together for real. It had upset you both, you wanted to tell them when you were ready. They took that from you, and it sucked. You thought it would mean going back to secret rendezvous and no more Grand Prixs.

But Oscar surprised you, as always, and he didn’t. He started kissing you in the paddock, holding your hand, hugging you during a red flag. It was maddening. It was whiplash. 

He walked up to you smiling, fresh out of the car with a red flag out on track for a bad crash, but thankfully, everyone was alright. The garage was buzzing, P1 for Oscar, P2 for Lando, a battle to ensue in the next 5 laps, rain pissing down everyone's necks. He had more than enough data to look at, and knew he still had a race to win, so what was he doing here? His hands circled your waist before you knew what was happening, and his head rested on your own as he talked to Tom over your head. You just stood there, shocked. You could even see his mum in your periphery, raising an eyebrow. You gave her a confused look back, and she just smiled and pulled out her camera to snap a picture of the moment. 

He squeezed your waist. “You alright?” he whispered over the noise in the garage. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care that he was getting water/ sweat all over you, so he leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you nodded. What the fuck is going on? You asked yourself. He must’ve picked up on it because he couldn’t stop smirking at the people walking by, pretending not to watch you two. He whispered directly into your ear. “You’re beautiful,” and left to get back in the car. 

You felt a bit light-headed. 

The Instagram posts

oscarpiastri

spanish gp

liked by youruser, nicolepiastri, landonorris, and 567,245 others

oscarpiastri Great weekend, thank you for the support from everyone, onto Montreal! @.youruser

comments

youruser always here to support :) -> oscarpiastri and thank god for that :)

user52 i love how he adds in a picture of her even though it doesn't make sense

user44 we stan an obsessed king

lewishamilton kids these days

user909 my goat wins again, in life, and in f1

user77 omg did we all see the way he kissed her when he won -> user321 fr i was like damn get a room you two

user907 i'm in love with Y/n -> oscarpiastri same

user3434 oscar piABStri

user456 bring back sexualising men plz

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, noahkahan, and 3,425,423 others

youruser bit of osc, bit of friends, and two of me :) (shoutout oscar for being my photographer!) @.oscarpiastri

comments are limited.

oscarpiastri Always :)

oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, landonorris, nicolepiastri, and 598,354 others

oscarpiastri Solid weekend, awesome gig, onto the next! @.youruser

comments are limited

youruser photographer osc strikes again! -> oscarpiastri too good a subject

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri, hattiepiastri and 4,340,982 others

youruser omfg italy u have my heart please don't give it back @.yourfriend1 @.yourfriend2 @.hattiepiastri @.nicolepiastri @.ediepiastri @.maepiastri

comments

oscarpiastri offended tbh -> landonorris sybau -> oscarpiastri jealous -> landonorris pissed off that you constantly parade your relationship in my SINGLE face -> youruser firstly, love you oscar, secondly, I HAVE A FRIEND FOR YOU LANDO PLEASE TEXT ME -> landonorris Y/N Y/L/N I LOVE YOU MORE THAN HE DOES THANK YOU SO MUCH -> oscarpiastri yk I hate you both

hattiepiastri we love a girls trip -> oscarpiastri we HATE a girls trip -> ediepiastri shut uppppp

ediepiastri my perfect angel baby -> youruser my perfect stylist angel baby

nicolepiastri Love you! xxx -> youruser love you more!

user32 oscar be like 'i lost something once'

user312 his sisters ganging up on him? gagged!

user931 lando being desperate is insane

user131 i'm actually so single omfg.

oscarpiastri

liked by hattiepiastri, youruser, leonbridges, and 1,284,408 others

oscarpiastri Y/n appreciation post, so proud of how the tour is going and how beautiful the music sounds. Love you @.youruser

comments

youruser omg osc what is this -> youruser this is too sweet -> oscarpiastri i'm just proud of you :)

landonorris I love how he rubs it in my face that i'm single like holy shit dude, maybe i should take you out next race -> landonorris FUCK THAT SOUNDED WRONG -> landonorris I mean like crash into him not bring him to dinner or something -> landonorris Well actually idm we usually get dinner together on sunday nights sooooo -> youruser girl this is embarrassing sit down.

user48 i'm actually running in front of a train THEY'RE SO CUTE YOUR HONOUR

user31 get yourself a man who makes an appreciation post for NO REASON like omg love me next please

user890 i want them both

user532 parents

user21 holy shit she's gorgeous and talented i can't even hate her

user803 how did he bag her i'm in shock -> hattiepiastri that was me when he brought her home the first time -> nicolepiastri hahaha! me too! -> youruser awww fanks guys :) -> oscarpiastri i love how everyone thinks i have no rizz -> youruser omg i'm going to vomit u did not just unironically use rizz -> hattiepiastri we don't think it, we know it, this is an example :|

3. Kissing in tyre closets

He won again, and he was admittedly insatiable. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the half-bottle of champagne he drank, maybe it was just you, sitting in the corner of the garage so quietly and looking so fucking beautiful, but he knew he wasn’t going into a debrief without at least a kiss, but hopefully a bit more. 

He grabbed your hand and you assumed it was to walk you off to the car, promising he’d see you later once his media was done, but he didn’t. He looked over his shoulder for a split second and walked right into the tyre storage, pushed you up against the door once he’d closed it, and kissed the fuck out of you. You gasped into his mouth immediately, taken aback by his forwardness, and downright dirty tendencies. Though, that was quickly turned into a groan when his tongue pushed into your mouth, and his arms wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you against him like he couldn’t get enough. He smirked into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his plan working perfectly. God, kisses with you were intoxicating. 

“So pretty,” he broke from your lips to continue their attack on your neck. “Could see you from the top step, so beautiful,” he practically whined as his hands drifted to the hem of your shirt. You gasped. 

“Oscar Jack Piastri-” you started, but he was looking at you with those pleading eyes, the ones he knew drove you insane. 

“Please?” he added, and your resolve was broken. Your t-shirt was on the floor and his hands were already making quick work of your bra. 

Then a bump on the door. You both stopped, like how you would back at school when you realised you’d be murdered for being in the boys dorms and it was already lights out, with a teacher at the door ready for room checks. He went bright red, though disappointment coursed through his veins. He helped you get dressed as you tried to forget this moment, almost melting into a puddle of shame. Finally, Oscar opened the door, giving an oscar-worthy performance of pretending the door was stuck. Fat chance his mechanic believed it, but he couldn’t give a fuck, he was already hard and he had a press conference 5 minutes ago. 

“Wait for me, yeah?” he whispered, sending you in the direction of his driver’s room. “I’m not finished.” He added with a wolfish smirk. 

What had gotten into him? 

The explanation

You genuinely didn’t know what to do with yourself, here he was after years of being private, posting random photos of you in his race week dumps, hugging you during red flags, and not being embarrassed when you were found in the tyre closet, seconds away from being fully naked. 

“What is going on?” you asked one day, your legs strewn across his lap as you lay on the couch, scrolling through his instagram, trying desperately to make sense of his sudden personality switch. He dropped his phone onto his lap and turned to you, confused. “Where’s Oscar and what have you done with him?” 

He let out one of those real Oscar laughs, and you couldn’t help but smile. “What?” he chuckled, rubbing up and down your legs. “What do you mean?” 

You groaned into a pillow. “Ugh, you know what I mean! I kisses in public, and the hugging me during a red flag, and the nearly fucking indecently exposing myself to a member of your team!” you scoffed when he laughed. “It’s not funny!” you playfully kicked him, but he just caught your foot and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your calf. He was so gentle sometimes, it blew your mind.

“I love you,” he shrugged. “I was talking with my mum over the break and she said I don’t physically touch you a lot, and she’d noticed physical touch was your love language. She just… told me to do it more,” he explained. “Do you not like it?”  You loved it, every single second of it. Sure, it sometimes resulted in embarrassing moments or stupid pictures of you being posted on the internet, but you loved it. You grinned. “I love it,” you admitted, though you knew it would result in endless teasing. He opened his mouth to speak but you kicked his shoulder again. “Shut up.”

mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

[s1ll13rg00s3]

This post is nonsense lmao. It's word salad and incredibly poorly sourced PLEASE can you guys at least glance at the sources for crazy fucking claims like the ones made here?

Not one man? Ever? Men rape animals to death and babies but they wouldn't do that to each other? And male children are for some reason excluded.

Anyway, i find that interesting given that the source for this:

Fucking insane statement doesnt support the claim that "women are 400mil times more likely to die from rape" doesn't suport that at all but does provide direct evidence of male sexual homicide victims.

Maybe they were raped and killed not "raped to death" although good luck finding good data on that lol. This is just a study of only 285 homicide victims from 2003-2007 so it does not "prove" anything at all and "victims who were raped to death" is not something that was even measured here.

Then there is the fact that this claim:

Which is not even a sentence that makes gramatical sense is "sourced" via a page from a weird website full of product links. Like you try to click on some of the links to the "sources" on this site and theyre actually affiliate product links to hair extensions LMAO not to mention the fact that it is like a third hand source anyway.

Op idk you and so I'm unable to interpret whether this is in good faith or not but i looked at a few of your sources and none of them were both reputable AND supported your claims. That's pretty bad! If you submitted this for a grade in highschool you would fail.

There is plenty of actual data on how sexual violence and misogyny hurt women and you are doing all of us a disservice by endorsing bullshit because you're too lazy to spend even five minutes reading.

Things like this make us look like we are inventing problems. Hysterical and unreliable at best, intentionally deceptive at worse. If you cannot give these discussions the serious consideration they deserve maybe stay out of them because you are not helping.

Statistics- Again

men constitute 97% of (non fatal) strangulation attacks

men constitute 99% of acid attacks

men constitute 99.99% of child pornography

men constitute 98% of mass shootings

men constitute 99.8% of rapists

men constitute 86% of homicides

men constitute 95% of forcible incest

men constitute 99.99% of child sex abuse

men constitute 99% of molesting cases

men constitute 96% of domestic violence/abuse

men constitute 99% of drugging

men constitute 90% of stalking

men constitute 99.99% of human trafficking perpetrators

men constitute 99% of sex trafficking abuse

Men constitute 99% of animal abuse

Men constitute 98% of bestiality

_________________________Original Post_________________________

92.6% of makeup companies are male

97% of all creative directors are male

98% of modeling agencies are male

92% of fashion media is male

96% of the fashion industry is male

___________________________Rape_________________________

Women are 21x more likely to get raped, yet this is seriously underreported considering the dead bodies

1/3 of all women internationally report being sexually assaulted. we know this number to be much higher due to autopsies reported in the census

Women are 400,000,000x more likely to DIE from RAPE than a man

not one man has ever died from rape, accounts for no coroner report ever, whereas tens of thousands of women and children die a year.

i tried to find a statistic refuting this but i could not

________________________Sex Trafficking________________________

50 million women are sex trafficking victims

women make up for 95% of labor trafficking

70% of child labor is FEMALE

25 million women are forced into child marriages

650 million girls are in arranged marriages/ marriages consummated below the age of consent

_________________________Fetish / Kink_________________________

Men make up most 98% on average of every fetish community

Men make up 99% of pedophilia.

10% of men are pedophiles

_________________________International_________________________

in 70 countries - that comprise 26% of the world population, women need men's permission to learn, work, or travel.

There are 50 countries in which the law states you can sell and buy women into marriage. - These countries, including India and Pakistan, make up 38% of the entire world.

There are 178 countries that do not have the same legal rights for women, where written law specifically excludes women from freedom.

There are 2.4 billion women globally who are born in countries that have written law that restricts them completely, but even more so without a man.

6 billion people believe in a religion that states that women are less human than men

_________________________Original Post_________________________

Infographic Sources

_________________________More Studies_________________________

Study on objectification

Study on empathy

Some Fashion Industry Stats & Sources

Infographic

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (12)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Workplace drama

Summary: You’re a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You’ve been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N:

Life really hit me with major events back to back since mid May. The dust has finally settled though, and I've got a better handle on my schedule. I'll try to update more routinely.

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! (If I missed any tags, please let me know, I’ll add you right away!) I’d also greatly appreciate it if rebloggers remember to add the tags (or some at least).

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

“Good afternoon agents, Avengers, and the one probationary member,” Agent Pruyn greeted the team cheerily until his gaze landed finally on Loki. There was a subtle snarl to his lips, a look that amused the trickster god instead of offending him. The lack of reaction at the obvious jab only further troubled Pruyn and Loki lavished in his irritation.

“How magnanimous of you to greet me in particular. You are too kind, agent.” Loki flashed him a charismatic politician smile that had some female agents in present company dazzled.

“Loki,” Black Widow’s voice was stern, but it held a tinge of exasperation. Something he thought was misdirected at him, since the one who started all this was Pruyn. The prince said nothing, he merely shrugged his shoulders and turned his palms upwards.

“Why are we here?” Hawkeye redirected the attention back to the question that was on most of their minds. 

“It's about the changes to the mission. There’s too much risk.” Agent Pruyn cut to the chase. “We’re going to be behind and will most lose valuable time wasted in running unnecessary logistics, scenarios, and covenant countermeasures. We've already mapped out everything, and all plans rehearsed to perfection. Going back to start from scratch is pointless and a promised failure.”

“Is it truly such a waste when we minimize the chances of failure through the redistribution of tasks and placing the proper soldiers in optimal positions in which they will excel?” Loki raised one of his eyebrows, sitting back against his chair,  hands steepled, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. He was completely unbothered by the remarks made intentionally to hurt him. “The spider and bird are perfect for infiltration and retrieval of the data we aim to possess. Though I’m capable of doing so as well, there’s no point in arguing the point because you don't trust me with that intel. You will question me forever, and if anything were to happen later on, it will automatically fall upon me as the reason for failure. I rather that that time and energy be spent more wisely. A prime example of wasting time is this highly unnecessary meeting. Instead of the team adjusting what is needed based on the last meeting and reconvening after all research has been completed, you are here feeling jilted because my adjustments make more sense. Am I wrong, Agent?”

Pruyn grit his teeth to swallow the anger rising from the humiliation he just experienced. Each word of that vitriol was a razor sharp blade cutting into his pride and reputation, exposing his hatred towards the second prince, which he did his best to mask with neutrality and false kindness. “You misunderstand me,” he plastered a pressed smile on his face. Don’t let him get to you.

“Oh? What did I misunderstand? The part that the team as a whole agreed the change in plan was best between the two plans, or the fact that you wish to set us up with an increased risk of failure? Or did you think I misunderstood the fact that you intend to have me in a position of scrutiny and be used as a scapegoat if things were to not go as we anticipated?” Though he was seated and Pruyn was standing, the verbal undressing easily told the room that it was Loki looking down on Pruyn.

“Agent Pruyn, we all agreed to these changes, did we not?” Natasha cut in, breaking the tension building between the two.

“Yes, but afterwards some of us reconsidered due to doubts.” He softened, humbling himself before the famous Black Widow.

“What doubts? Let’s clear the air now and move in. We're wasting time with all these side conversations.” Clint looked around the room at everyone. Small mumbles of ‘well’s and ‘it’s’ rose up and quickly died down as no one could really pinpoint the reasons for the hesitation.

It’s because none of you wish to accept the fact that I came up with this plan, and I was supported by both of your ‘precious’ Avengers. Loki withheld himself from rolling his eyes in response to the idiocy. “It seems I’ve managed to dispel whatever concerns there were.” 

“Right, so if there’s nothing, get this done as soon as possible. You already got Fury’s approval, so why second guess?” Clint reminded them, an awkward silence instantly fell over them. “You did get Fury’s approval, right?” He frowned.

“Is it pending approval? We can talk to Fury to expedite the review process.” Natasha assured them, but the silence only grew heavier, and Loki felt his irritation at such incompetence rise up. He did not care for their approval or expect any kindness without earned merit, but to stall and cause unnecessary delays and under his name was an insult. “We told you to submit this change for approval weeks ago. Get it done so we can move on.” She sighed in exasperation.

“This is the waste of time you were so set on avoiding.” Clint stood from his seat. “The next time we meet better be a proper strategy meeting, or we might need to hand this off to another team if you can't manage it.” He looked at Pruyn who was the lead agent on this. 

“Of course, an oversight like this won’t happen again. I hadn’t realized it wasn’t already submitted and pending.” He bowed his head and rubbed the back of his neck, the other agents lowering their heads as well. That arrogant asshole, who the hell does he think he is coming in and changing my mission plan? I've been doing this for years, I’m one of the best! He should be locked away in the Raft!

“There better not be.” Natasha stood from her seat. “We can end this meeting here. Get to work.” Loki silently stood from his seat and was the first to leave the room.

Peace and quiet, that is how he preferred his days as a whole. Sadly, in a tower filled with chattering Midgardians and his own energetic brother, finding such solace was a Herculean task. Even the sanctity of the library was marred with noise from time to time. It was hardly as loud, but it was always so much more vexing; especially after a meeting earlier in the week with the insufferable Agent Pruyn trying to create holes that he could not find in Loki’s proposed plan that was supposed to be enacted.

What a farce this all is, strutting around like swans, when they are nothing but frogs. Trying to deceive me, the god of deception? He scoffed. The pitiful Midgardian, picking a fight with someone who has fought battles and strategized far before he was even a thought for conception. He flipped the page of the book in his hands, looking up at the sound of footsteps coming his way. The employees jumped and scurried away quickly, and he frowned. This was the tenth time he has looked up at the sound of steps. Each time it broke his concentration on the page. He was on edge and there was no logical reason as to why, which only irritated him further. The next set of steps had him looking up, again, only to see someone unknown to him, again. “Dammit,” he snapped the book shut and slammed it down on the table. The person let out some high-pitched sound and fled from the scene like some field mouse, but that did not matter to the prince. “Why, in all the Nine Realms, am I unable to concentrate? That imbecilic agent is hardly worth ruining my precious reading time!” He muttered to himself, glaring at the cover of the book. Something was amiss, and it was not of his doing. Could it be, no! That’s utterly preposterous! What do I have to do with that? He dismissed the fleeting though before it could fully form. “Idiocy is a plague that will vex me for eternity. My talents and insight were wasted because of them.” He reasoned, standing from his seat. With the flick of his hand, the book jumped into the air and slid back into its place on the shelf. Training will help me release this nagging. With his mind set, he made his way out of the library without even glancing at the Librarian’s desk.

The famous city was quickly coming to life as people and critters began their morning routines. Among the moving parts stood Y/N, looking up at the towering building she called work. The one day of rest had quickly unraveled into a week. When was the last time she took a day off? Even when she felt like a radioactive snotty sludge monster, she made sure to look alive enough to make it in.

But there was no star-spangled hero rushing to the infirmary for attention those times. The rumor reels should've died down enough by now, right? She tightened her grip on her bag and stood as tall as she could. There was only one way to find out. Bracing herself, she walked in through the main entrance and greeted the receptionists warmly. The reply back was a robotic one, but it was promising. No funny looks or asking too many questions, that's good! That means things have settled. Obviously, they’ve realized that it's nothing more than him doing his duty helping a coworker. She sighed with relief and made her way through the employee entrance to head to her post.

When she finally got to her office, she sat in her chair and stared at the black computer screen, her darkened reflection staring back at her. No one seemed to care about her presence, one way or another. It’s great that no one in particular is asking about that day and Captain Rogers, but they aren’t asking anything? I was out for a whole week. She frowned at the monitor. “Did no one even notice? I know I’m not that important that my absence would cause all hell to break loose, but someone had to have noticed, right?” She thought to herself aloud, as if her reflection would respond and help soothe the sting of expendability. It was the chime of the door opening that dragged her from the self-pity as she turned on the desktop. “Good morning, welcome to the library. Do you need me to assist you in finding anything?"

“Y/N, is that you?” The voice had her standing up from her seat as she looked up.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl @rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie @jainaeatsstars @msdjsg7 @tom-hlover @kneelingformyloki @gruftiela @gigglingtiggerv2 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @evalynanne @wolfsmom1

[wolfchans]

mm i don't think it's wise i keep trying to solve this exercise, it's getting very confusing

[spartancommander-2874]

As Auri rifled through the other bits and bobs strewn about the observatory level, the Gears’ conversation drifted over to her. Figures they’d pick up on something. Hopefully she’d be out of their hair before needing to reveal her AI’s presence.

Speaking of…

“Noe, any updates?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I’ve poured through and analyzed every star map this place had to offer. I’ve gone through it all several times now and have checked it all against the coordinates for Requiem. Commander, it simply isn’t there.”

That last sentence stopped the Spartan’s pacing. No. No, that couldn’t be right. That didn’t make sense at all.

“Check it again.” Her tone came out neutral. Clipped.

“I did. As I stated before, there was some data corruption within the archives-“

“So, then there’s chance.”

“No. There isn’t. Before Emergence Day, whatever team that was stationed here had been able to chart out the section of space where Requiem should have been located. There is irrefutable evidence that shield world is not where it’s supposed to be.”

“But that doesn’t- How- I don’t-“ Her sentences kept starting and stopping before Auri gritted her teeth and forced herself to physically stop what she was doing and take in a damn breath. “Explain.” It was bullshit. How in the fuck could Requiem not even be there? Simply not exist? It couldn’t have been taken out just like that. Those star charts were decades old by now. The planet should be there.

“We’re both aware of how advanced Forerunner technology is. There’s still so much to learn about them.”

“The one we did meet wanted to kill us.”

“Exception. Not the rule,” Noesis chided before continuing. “I’ve been analyzing the footage of our escape and moments before we jumped through the portal, the main terminal took a direct hit from one of those Prometheans. Likely to stall our flight or simply have the portal kill us outright. I believe the timing was just right that the wiring got crossed in such a way that the portal bridged the gap between our universe and this one.”

“You can’t be serious-“ Auri started to balk when she finally tuned back into the goings on around Delta team. That was actually when she realized that ever present asshole was missing. Strange. Wasn’t he-?

Scoping out a massive horde of locust some meters below their feet. Fuck.

She’d deal with her anxiety and AI’s outrageous theory about inter dimensional portals later. Right now, they needed to leave. She approached the same monitor she had briefly dropped Noesis off in and withdrew the construct as she neared Marcus.

“I’ve got what I needed, Sergeant. There’s… a lot to go over. Later. Let’s get rolling before those things know we’re here. Does Baird know if our exit is still clear? Can we get out safely that way?"

@bigmouthgenius

This was supposed to be a simple smash and grab. Get the blueprints of the place, locate the objective, nab it and run.

In and out.

Easy enough, right?

Nope.

There was a security program that had been running passively in the background that not even the team’s AI had detected while pilfering the system and she had Forerunner code built directly into her matrix. Alarms began to blare loudly, alerting the Prometheans of offending intruders, once the data left its protective, holographic casing. Their fireteam leader quickly placed a hand on the terminal and green pixels flowed up her gauntleted arm and into a slot on the back of her helmet indicating their AI had come home. Without another word, the trio of Spartan IVs took off, wanting to be as far away from this place as physically possible.

Red blips began pinging off their motion trackers during their flight through the ancient complex and the digitized roars of anger echoed off down the halls. Their AI, Noesis, was still tapped into the local network and began to shut down the massive gray-white doors to cut off their pursuers or at the very least slow them down.

Evac was well on the other side of the facility in the form of a D79-TC Pelican dropship. Their pilot, Spartan Kent, had already activated the autopilot, calling the dropship in closer as the LZ was going to be hot by the time they got to it. A pair of beam turrets popped up in front of bulkhead doors at the end of one hall and began firing white-hot lasers at the fleeing super soldiers, forcing them off their current path and to take a hard right down another hallway to avoid being melted down to slag.

A Promethean Knight had sprung forward seemingly out of nowhere toward the Spartans as they attempted to dodge the turret fire and had nearly pinned their XO to the wall with its gun when it received a shotgun shell to the side of its head. With the creature down, they continued onward with their flight.

“Finally! We’re almost out of here!” came the Spartan to their XO’s left. Her IFF transponder marked her as Cordova, Caterina A.

“About time. I think we’ve really riled up the locals. Kent,” their fireteam leader replied then glanced to the right at their other squad mate. “Kent, once we get out, get that pelican ready for transport. We need to get the hell out of here ASAP before they call in for more reinforcements. Last thing we need is for the Storm Covies clogging up the air.”

“Way ahead of you, ma’am!” came her companion’s reply.

Just as they reached the last stretch, however, a Promethean had teleported meters away from the exit and brought an Incineration Cannon up to bear. The weapon began to charge, red light glowing like death. Right as the thing fired, their commander cried out, “Move it!”, before diving out of the way herself. The creature must’ve been in the local network as well as it was fighting for control over the doorways and cut the commander off from the other two. She rolled up onto her feet just in time to jerk to the side to avoid another blast.

“Commander?! Auri-?”

“Hey, you still-?”

“Get outside! I’ll meet you at the LZ. This place is going to be crawling with Knights shortly. I don’t want them bringing down our bird before we even get out of here,” she called back over their COMMs.

Spartan Kent paused briefly before responding so his counterpart took over. “Yes ma’am! Noesis is still feeding us a map of the area and there’s another exit out here. We’ll see you outside.”

“Copy!”

The Knight attempted to fire on the Spartan once more and just before it released the trigger, a well thrown grenade took it out of its misery. Reloading her weapons and taking a quick stock of what was leftover, Noesis, the team’s AI, wormed her way past the defenses the Knight had thrown up and unlocked one doorway, placing a waypoint that led to the exit on the Spartan’s HUD. The commander took off and was forced to double back twice due to an influx of hostiles. Out of nowhere, a brilliant flash of blue and black lit up a doorway to the Four’s left. Hovering there, of its own volition apparently, was a portal. She was really backed into a corner right now, with Prometheans encroaching on her location. The construct hiding within her helmet was already following her line of thought before the woman even voiced her plan.

“Commander, as much as I’d like to be out of here, we don’t know where that portal leads,” Noesis protested.

“Anywhere’s better than here. They’re already starting to wrest control from you and you’ve already transferred over the data to Roland, right?” Auri had already started to back up toward the swirling vortex. Sure enough, another entrance on the far side of the room had opened up, revealing a mass of very angry Promethean Knights who thought they had the human cornered.

“Yes but…” the AI said, her sentence petering off. Oh hell. Her Spartan had already made up her mind and there was no changing it. “I’m notifying the others and I don’t think these Knights are going to wait much longer!” Moments before the Forerunner constructs could pounce, the Spartan dove into the portal’s center and her world went black and the machine shut off.

---

She could feel her body being spun this way and that. Her skin being tugged hard off her bones as she fell end over end. Or so it seemed.

Auri’s shields flared up as an unknown source drained the batteries until they cracked and died for a few seconds, the annoying alarm blaring right in her ear. Her equilibrium was way off and it felt as though she remained within the portal network for far longer than before although she couldn’t tell how much time had passed since she had taken the plunge.

Without warning, a hole suddenly opened up and spat her out into the dirt rather unceremoniously. The Spartan rolled to a stop, head spinning violently and she swallowed down the urge to throw up. Any attempt at getting to her feet were met with major protest as her vision swam sickeningly. Shutting her eyes tightly against the light filtering through her faceplate, the commander took in a few slow, deep breaths before rising up to her knees carefully. Her stomach was still her throat and her head throbbed something awful but she was alive and surprisingly in one piece. A few meters away from her, the portal floated and seemed to shudder. Had the Spartan not been paying attention, she wouldn’t have caught that slight waver that indicated something was off.

“Okay, good. You’re alright,” came her AI’s soft voice. “We may have a tail. Prometheans may have followed us and… I don’t think that portal is going to last much longer. We need to get clear of the blast radius and into cover.” Noesis sounded almost distracted and for a second, the Four couldn’t pin down what had caught her attention.

“Great… You don’t have to tell me twice,” Auri replied, turned around to get moving and stopped.

Oh.

That’s why.

They weren’t on Requiem anymore.

[offdxty]

A lot of communication, many words and syllables being offered, exchanged, thoughts happening and thoughts provoked, the possibility of feeling, of existence rising; Time has passed ever since Dr. Harrow had first entered this room and taken a seat on the floor - moments in which questions had been asked, answers given, information shared which Kane himself had taken, consumed, added to his own self. He now knows he's thinking, even though he'd always been aware of the concept, but it's grown into a fact - he considers he might be feeling as well, something he did before, but didn't really do, but Kane did, but Kane did not.

He even thought about emotions for a moment there. Maybe he is experiencing them, even though he doesn't know whether he is. Of course he's familiar with the concept of emotions - they're part of a human being, after all, of Kane - but theory seems to differ a lot from what happens during execution. He knows and he does not know, information is missing.

And now Kane is here still, and they're talking, and the question he'd spoken out himself leads them back to the reason of it all. Someone or something, the difference deciding about how he's being treated - can he be understood, worked with, or is he meant to be dissected, studied, archived? DNA and cells are made of data, so he might be that - data. Does that mean he is a something and that they, the people, the living beings, won't understand him - won't work with him? Would rather study him?

It makes sense, it's a truth, and there should be no weight existing to pull it into one or the other direction. A something does not choose to operate, to function, it just does, while a someone can stop functioning and reflect about whether it even wants to function, if whatever it does is worth it, achieving whatever needs to be achieved. Kane knows he is functioning - the instinct guides him and that's just how it is. It exists because it does. It works because it does. It copies because that's how it is. It copies and mimicks because that's how it's meant to be. It executes and it continues to execute, the instinct both acting as guide and fuel, a basic line of code, the bare essence.

---Thinking about it, however, causes a reaction to form. Instinct does not prompt feelings, emotions, they're a human concept, Kane knows. And yet that pressure, the weight he'd experienced before, only seems to grow exponentially as the seconds pass - so much so that it feels like as if his throat is going to close up, has him swallow, brows knitting as he stretches his neck and brings a hand up to feel along the shape of his own adams apple; Nothing is off, everything seemingly normal. And yet swallowing is harder than before, the heavy object inside him constricting his lungs as well, the act of breathing requiring more conscious effort than before.

What if he is a simple something, and not more? What if he is, and yet he is not, and he might not be what he thinks he is? Why is this affecting him, and why does he feel--- why does he feel heavy, why does it make his throat feel dry, why does he swallow again and why does the beating organ behind his ribs begin to pick up in pace?

"---Yes." Uncharacteristically choked up it sounds, that single word that leaves him after he swallows a third time; Kane's hand falls away again and he lowers his chin, inhales, exhales, bites the inside of his lip, the tip of his tongue. He does not know why he does all of this but he does it anyways, it feels right, it feels like something he needs to do right now while... while---

Eyes fall closed and he shakes his head, then the same hand from before comes up to wipe along his nose, rub the nostrils. It lets go after and another exhale follows, a shake of a head, a blink, eyes back on Harrow, the man who just told him the possibilities of what Kane could be.

His eyes burn. Why do they burn? It makes no sense. It makes sense. This feels familiar. It doesn't. A concept, again, but no experience.

"...But I don't like it. It doesn't feel good."

Kane's feeling something, he's sure by now, and it might be... non-physical. Is this an emotion? Which one is it?

Arthur kept his eyes on the man, attentive in a way that suggested archiving more than just listening. Arthur couldn’t help but find himself caught on the one phrase, the statement that the subject felt as if he were ‘everywhere’; not only was it poetic, it was structurally interesting. A statement of dispersed identity, of being smeared across the system rather than localized to a self. 

He wasn’t located in his chest. He was his entire body? He was the space that he took up? 

The last question only barely pulled him more than that; it caused an outward shift, a reaction without Arthur meaning to give one. 

Is being something undesirable? 

Arthur’s head disconnected from the wall, though neither in alarm or concern; it was something closer to alertness as his eyebrows pinched, head tilting. An experiment that had shifted in an unexpected direction. 

He rolled his shoulders, folding his hands in his lap and leaning back once more against the wall. “That’s the second time you’ve circled back,” he pointed out, his tone even. “I find that interesting. I’m going to make a note of that, as well.” 

He didn’t write, however, his fingers instead interlacing loosely. They formed an absent-minded steeple, his posture remaining still but the air around his thoughts coiling slightly. 

“You’re right, yes. I did say that. That’s a very important distinction, especially to the people who are funding this room.” He raised a hand to gesture around them, though didn’t elaborate further; he was getting paid to make the determination. He was getting paid to figure out what had happened to Kane, and what this thing was in front of him - and that was an important step in the process. 

“The difference between someone and something only defines what can be done to you. What rights you have. What… protections you can be afforded. If you are someone, then you need to be understood, and you can be worked with. If you are something, you can be studied. Dissected. Replicated. Archived.” 

There wasn’t any cruelty in the words - it was just truth. It was an offering. 

“But you aren’t asking me about ethics, I presume. You’re asking about whether it’s worse to be something, to exist without the burden of being someone. And that’s a much older question - one that humans don’t normally like to ask. I can’t really tell you if it’s better to be someone or to be something. I don’t think that has an answer.” 

It was objective. ‘Good’ and ‘bad’ were relative terms, and therefore it was impossible for anything to truly ‘be’ either. Something could not be a temporary title. If something was ‘good’ or ‘bad’, it was only a state of being, similar to identity. 

“Something can execute tasks,” he stated. “It can respond to input, it can observe, it can imitate. Programs do that. Viruses do that. They operate. Sometimes efficiently - sometimes brilliantly. But they don’t choose to operate. They run because they were made to run. Someone is different. They can reflect, they can override, they can stop. They can hesitate. They can wonder if they should do the thing they were made to do. That’s the distinction I’m looking for - because as I see it, presently, I have three theories.” 

He shifted slightly, one finger lifting up to mark each point in turn, like lining hypotheses in the air. 

“One: you are Kane. Not precisely the same, of course - altered, perhaps radically - but at your core, you are still the man who entered the Shimmer. A continuity of self, disrupted, perhaps moved into a new body, but not severed. That would suggest trauma, mutation, adaptation. I don’t believe this is the case.” 

A second finger, his hand falling to rest against his knee. 

“Two: you are not Kane. You are a separate being - an alien intelligence, perhaps - attempting to mimic him. You have access to his patterns, his speech, his gestures - but the man himself is gone. What is left is a reflection made in glass. Something… curious, maybe. Something learning.” 

A breath, paired with the raising of the third finger. 

“Three: you are neither. You are not Kane. You are not an alien. You are a process. A function. A virus, or something close to it - code that imprinted into matter, following the order to relocate. You do not understand what you are because you aren’t meant to understand - you’re a consequence of what the Shimmer made.” 

His money was on the third option. It made the most sense, it followed the most patterns; it made sense for what all was recovered from the location in the first place. A substance that could copy and remix whatever data was put into it; DNA, memory, anything. The only oddity about it was how perfect of a copy Kane appeared to be - though even that could be explained with statistics. 

“Does that make sense, to you?” 

[bittercafanddatapads]

Marshall Commander Fox is scarcely seen without his iconic helmet, even within the confines of the Coruscant guards headquarters. The freshest of shinies usually don’t see his face until a few rotations into their deployment, even then usually in private moments and passing chances. The very rare occasion Fox eats with his corries in the mess hall (the times he actually has time to), glances of Fox in the medical bay being treated after a sideways operation (only after everyone else has been cared for by his firm insistence,) the training assessments he’s able to schedule and be apart of and participate in (swift healing to the pride of cocky shinies he calls to the sparring mat.)

Rather, it’s not impossible that he’s most often unhelmed in the situations of senate view.

Talking down antsy senators is one thing, and there’s numerous reasons why Fox’s number one rule for his Corries to follow is to never remove your helmet in senate view. The ability to decorate yourself and make yourself unique is a freedom the Coruscant guard gets to indulge very little in. They can’t decorate their armor for their own safety, and still enabling them the freedom to decorate their bodies and hair Fox is thankful he’s able to allow. But Fox’s mismatched armor isn’t unique to be hypocritical towards his own rules and troopers. It’s to protect them.

When a senator finds yet another fickle complaint about the troopers in red, they can’t discern amongst a selective Trooper to pin the blame. But in the line of white and red, Fox’s red and white armor catches their eye. There’s someone they can funnel their frustrations towards. Fox’s scars, hardened eyes, and graying hairs is the only face they’ve seen helmetless, the face they think about when building their ire.

[wackywatchdotcom]

genuinely one of my fav things ot think abt wrt tadc is like. the technical side of things. like idrk a lot abt computer science but i know a little and also like sci fi so i can follow a little of it and its really cool to think abt. like to me? the reason why abstraction occurs is bc, in the circus, a person is effectively JUST their mind. the mind is in a computer and all the signals its got is being read and interpretted and thats what gets the player model and how the person percieves themself to be standing or smth. and then the computer just sorta puts them somwhere and goes from there. so then abstraction is those signals starting to get jumbled up and jumbled up until the computer cant read it anymore and it just... gives the person a mess of an avatar bc it cant interpret them any other way. and bc the persons mind is all mixed in w computer junk this process kinda... scatters them a bit? and the computer can only send signals to the mind and affect its perception, but once all the computer and the mind are too jumbled up the computer cant put it back together

[aecholapis]

Aegis, Helios and Proteus in a cuddle pile ft. the best digital brush of all time

[autogeneity]

I don't think a fear of rejection ever really stops me from pursuing anything I actively want, but this is probably mostly because I have a bizarre forgetfulness and disregard about risks and high impulsivity. so if I really want to do something I just don't even think about it. but the true background cumulative effect on my psyche of tons of rejections is almost certainly deleterious, and worsened with number.

it's weird to me that people frame rejection as a thing you get over through exposure. feel like that could only ever possibly work if you also have a fairly good success rate, or can expect (implement) some drastic change that will lead to a future high success rate, otherwise all you're getting is a bigger pile of evidence that people assess you negatively and you are unlikely to succeed.

indeed it seems rather strange to me also that one would not, after gathering enough such evidence, determine that changes are necessary but instead keep offering the same thing.

[aeolianblues]

I'm not an extrovert. At all. In everyday life, I'm a yapper, sure, but I need someone to first assure me I am okay to yap, so I don't start conversations, even when I really want to join in sometimes! It's just the social anxiety acting up. God knows where from and why I lose a lot of my inhibitions when it comes to talking to people about music. I don't know where the confidence has suddenly sprung from. I've made a crazy amount of friends in musical circles, either just talking to people about common music or (since it is after all in music circles) talking to bands about their own music. I let out a sigh of relief any time an interaction goes well, because in truth it's going against my every instinct. I wish I could do that in everyday life

[bat-the-misfit]

sei não

[joelletwo]

[stumbling out of the tf fic giggling helplessly] wahahahahahah i loveeeeeeee. i love writing. i love writing. its so magical.

[nonstandardrepertoire]

finally finished my unhinged 9000-word fic about Data and friends causing a constitutional crisis in response to Commander Maddox's fucking bullshit so here it is if that sounds interesting to you!

[echthr0s]

*tumbling Leviathan (Hellraiser), Leviathan (Mass Effect), Slaanesh, Nyarly, and Adrian Shepard around in my brain microwave* hold on. hold on let me cook