#atlas: space two

[stingrayextraordinaire]

Aesthetic Moodboards // “Saturn” by Sleeping at Last

I'd give anything to hear you say it one more time: that the universe was made just to be seen by my eyes.

(requested by @seasidefantasies)

[katabay]

”—ah. seems like mother goose has been playing around in your egg salad. if you won’t dance to that tune, I got others.”

honestly, the would you kindly scene is whatever to me*, code yellow is the more interesting violation/betrayal of the body because of how beautifully it escalates the Fontaine reveal/betrayal and shows how ugly some of those ‘locks and keys’ that Tenenbaum mentions are. not only have you been a tool in another man’s hand this entire time, it goes deeper. your body is not your own.

*there used to be a meandering thought here about the would you kindly scene, but it was really just talking around the fact that I spent way too many years seeing people discuss it in the most insufferable and reductive ways possible when it’s a combination of three or four other things that make that moment compelling lmao

collage credits: heart one/heart two

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app / tip jar!

[kismetconstellations]

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart) x.

[frogonamelon]

!!!! I'm a couple days late but!! The Space Arc has ended!!

I haven't been here in a while so I'm going to start off with: @sodaspons It was beautiful, and it hurt me. Ouch. How dare you <3 Just... the conclusion of Honeycutt and Vee's relationship arc is so painful and bittersweet.

Since I finally have some time, I reread between the end of the Kraang invasion and through the entire space arc. I hadn't realized just how close together everything leading up to the Space Arc is. Vee is still reeling from Shen's death and all of those realizations when the Triceratons attack.

**As I'm going to be talking more about the drawing itself, I will be referring to Past!Venus as Vee and Future!Venus as Ana/ Anazao.**

Vee's design is the one that I'm used to, with the leather/ leather adjacent pauldron and the braid. Ana's space armor is inspired by Elon Musk's space suit design fused with the canon and a little bit of the IDW Nobody suit when it comes to the back of the head. All of the suits would be color coded for convenience (so the other characters can see who's who from far away) with Ana's suit being predominantly white with yellow accents.

I wanted to bring Ana's experiences into her design, so she has the space armor on, her braid is undone, she's wearing a 'V' belt buckle as a wink and nod to the 87s (and kind of Slash). Ana has a scar on her plastron from when she was stabbed (conveniently over her heart... broken guardian bond who? I don't know her) It's a little hard to see but I wanted to give her some octopus/ sucker scars running up her arm (and leg/s?) from Cthugga. The scars are being covered up by her alligator tattoo <3.

As for the content, it's kind of wild that the past kiddos left with Fugatoid. I know from a meta perspective that they needed to so there can only be one set on Earth but it's still kind of crazy that they do this. I just wanted to give a little moment between Vee and Ana where Vee is pulled in two and trusts herself/ someone else to protect Karai and the others.

The connotations of there being a separate set of turtles travelling the galaxies who have no idea what their other selves did in space is insane. Maybe they're targeted by Dregg, and they have no idea why or Vee and the others get to discover that the others (and they as a result) have a reputation or a bounty on their head. Maybe they return to Dendron and Vee gets to give them the seed she has. Idk I just had a moment with the implications.

[the-genius-az]

Maizulee asks

Do the girls share a bed or do they each have separate rooms? What would their living situation be like?

The three of them have their own rooms, with all their things, and they can be there for hours, but at the end of the day they always sleep together.

They mostly go to Azula's room, because she has the biggest bed.

[kricketbee]

Some fanart for @peony-pearl of her OC Haruka. Who is pretty and good at music and wears pretty dresses- literally everything Dai Yu loves, she'd be obsessed lol. I was trying to imagine this as happening before the start of both their stories, which places Dai Yu at about ten years old.

[billgenbrough]

Y'all ever have it where someone offers to help redo your room because you don't like it, but they criticize every idea you have and literally tell you to shut up when they start discussing your room with someone else

Like is this even my room anymore or are you moving in here

[friendshapedplant]

[Video Description: A Chinese man playing a custom Pump it Up double chart. He starts out holding two bags, and through out the song he uses them and one other bag for hold notes that would otherwise be impossible. There are also points he has to get on his hands and knees for the charting, as well as nearly do the splits to simultaneously hit notes on the opposite ends of the pad. /End VD.]

Plain text start.

edit 12/10:

he is chinese, not japanese (douyin is the chinese version of tiktok)

this is pump it up (middle and diagonal arrows), not dance dance revolution (vertical and horizontal arrows)

yes this game can be played with 1-3 players, however when there's more than 1 player the colours of the arrows change so each player follows a different colour. This is the default colouring (yellow for middle, red for upper diagonals, blue for lower diagonals), which means this is meant for one person and is probably a custom map for people like him lol

Plain text end.

by Rhythm梦龙 @ RhythmML

Summertime

edit 12/10:

he is chinese, not japanese (douyin is the chinese version of tiktok)

this is pump it up (middle and diagonal arrows), not dance dance revolution (vertical and horizontal arrows)

yes this game can be played with 1-3 players, however when theres more than 1 player the colours of the arrows change so each player follows a different colour. this is the default colouring (yellow for middle, red for upper diagonals, blue for lower diagonals), which means this is meant for one person and is probably a custom map for people like him lol

[general-gt]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60668074/chapters/161879521

So… I have once again come to inform the internet that I’m a damned liar and that this fic will absolutely get at least two more chapters after this one. Good news for everyone, hopefully!

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Gonna drink coffee every day to see if it does anything to me in a positive way

[formula-nyoom]

I'm Proud of You

Pairing: Platonic!Grid x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: Being the youngest and newest driver to the grid is not an easy adjustment to make and it ends up taking a toll on you. Thankfully some of the other drivers on the grid are there to look out for you.

A/N: Was going to wait till Saturday to post this, but I had a shit day today so I decided to post it now. Hope you enjoy!

~~~

No one really knew what Mercedes was thinking when they announced that they were signing you, an F2 rookie who placed 6th in the Formula 2 Championship, as the one to take the 2nd Mercedes seat. Everyone expected you to be named a reserve driver, so that you could prepare for the jump to F1. Yet here you were, jumping straight into the deep end. Even after you heard the news that you would be racing in Formula One, you were left more with shock and confusion rather than excitement. 

Sure, you had done a couple of test drives for Mercedes and had participated in an F1 practice session or two, but you didn’t think that was enough to put you in contention for a Formula One seat. 

But the media thought otherwise, and so did Mercedes. 

Both your friends and family tried to reassure you that you were good enough to race in Formula One, and you had seen countless interviews of Toto Wolf saying that he had made the right decision in signing you.

But none of that could take away the fact that all eyes were now on you. 

The first female to race in Formula One, and now the youngest on the grid.

The season hadn’t even started and yet you felt like Atlas holding the world weight of pressure that was placed upon your shoulders. You now have something to prove. And everyone was waiting for you to either fly or fall.

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t find the courage to cross the turnstile that led into the paddock during the first race weekend of the season. Crossing over would make everything real. And you would be doing it alone, as both your family and your manager weren't able to get to the track till later in the day. 

“Did you forget your badge on the first day?” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Charles and Pierre.

 “You can just jump over the gate. Yuki does it all the time.” Pierre said. 

 “No, I have my badge…I’m just nervous to enter the paddock.” You said, motioning with your head to the turnstiles.

 “What makes you so nervous?” Charles asked.

“There’s a lot of people. And cameras. And people with cameras. I feel like I’m gonna get swarmed as soon as my foot crosses the entrance.” You said.

 “You’re not wrong. The media doesn’t really know the definition of personal space.” Charles said, taking a sip of his coffee. “If you want, I can act as a buffer and draw the attention away while Pierre helps you get past.”

 “Would that work? I just want to get to the Mercedes hospitality.”

“Oh trust me, the media loves Charles. They’ll be too focused on getting pictures of him to see us walk by.” Pierre said. You looked back at the people past the entrance and there seemed to be more than when you last looked. 

 “Well…if you’re sure it will work then we might as well try.” You said. Charles smiled and gave you a nod. He then took the sunglasses that were hanging on his hat and put them on before entering the paddock. Immediately, the people that had cameras flocked to Charles and started to take his picture as he tried to walk through the paddock. You and Pierre waited a couple moments to build enough distance between you and Charles before the two of you entered the paddock. You clutched the straps of your bag tightly, expecting the nearby paparazzi to turn around and immediately start taking pictures of you and Pierre, but they were too focused on Charles.  

Pierre’s hand hovered over your shoulder as he tried to block you from most of the cameras while guiding you through the paddock. While the two of you managed to pass Charles without getting noticed, you couldn’t help but feel a bit claustrophobic, seeing Charles surrounded by so many people trying to take his picture. Eventually, you and Pierre managed to make it to the Mercedes hospitality building.

“Is it always going to be like this?” You asked Pierre.

 “Unfortunately, yes. Especially since you’re the newest on the grid. I recommend you invest in a good pair of sunglasses. But I’m proud of you for getting past your first swarm of paparazzi.” Pierre said, ruffling your hair. You laughed and swatted his hand away as Charles walked up to the two of you.

 “Whew! Thank god Lewis walked in. I felt like those reporters and paparazzi would never leave.” Charles said.

 “Sorry for making you go through that.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. 

“Pas de soucis. I’m used to it and know how to handle them. Though I will advise that you never enter the paddock by yourself. The reporters are like vultures.” Charles said. “Anyway, we will see you at the press conference, no?”

 “Yep. I’ll see you there.” You said. Charles patted your shoulder before him and Pierre headed to their own team's hospitality. 

~~~

You were beginning to hate the press conferences that you had to go to. Any question that was directed towards you involved your performance on track, or lack thereof as some reporters like to put it. You were getting tired of having to answer questions that made you feel like a failure.

“This question is for (Y/N). We’re now five races into the season and you’ve been continuously out qualified and out placed by your teammate, George? Is there a certain struggle that you’re having with the car that may be the cause of this?”

If you could walk away from this question, you would. But instead you stayed in your seat and picked up the microphone next to you. Damn Mercedes PR training.

 “There’s still some learning with the car. The engineers have said that the car isn’t up to the standards they want it to be, so I am struggling a bit on track.” You said, giving your best PR approved answer that you could manage.

“But would it be safe to say that you are under performing at Mercedes in comparison to your teammate?” The reporter asked. You tried to steal your expression and act like the comment didn’t bother you.

 “What kind of question is that?” It wasn’t you that asked it, but Lando, who was sitting to your right. You looked at him with some confusion. So did the reporter.

“Is there something you would like to add, Lando?”

“Yea. You can’t say she’s underperforming when she’s a rookie that has only completed five races.” Lando said, an upset expression clear on his face. The reporter cleared his throat.

 “I’m just saying, some have doubts that Mercedes were too hasty in signing an F2 rookie and I wanted to know if that was being reflected in (Y/N)’s driving.” The reporter said, trying to control the situation

 “I think we already know your opinion on Mercedes' decision based on the questions you ask.” Carlos said, who was sitting next to Lando. “I agree with Lando that it’s unfair to judge (Y/N) based on her first five races.”

 “I’d say she’s actually doing pretty good for a rookie, considering she’s been able to score points in two out of the 5 races she’s done so far.” Lando said.

 “Much more than you have ever done.” Carlos said to the reporter. You tried to hide the smile that was slowly forming on your face but inevitably failed as you picked your microphone back up.

“To my two fellow drivers points, I think you’re discounting me too early. I will admit that there is still a learning curve and with the continuous upgrades that Mercedes keeps bringing to the car, I am constantly having to adjust to all the new additions while also trying to get used to driving a Formula One car every other weekend.” You said, making direct eye contact with the reporter. “But I will eventually get used to the car. And when I do, I think I will be able to match George and possibly start out qualifying.”

That seemed to silence the reporter, as he sat back down. It also seemed to signify the end of the press conference as reporters started to pack their things and you and the other drivers sitting on the couch with you got up and left the room.

“Mate, I’m so proud of you and how you handled that reporter.” Lando said once you were out of the room. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug.

 “I was ready to walk out of the press conference when I heard that question. Why do these reporters always have to compare me to George?”

 “Because that's what they do. All of us get compared to our teammates because our teammates are seen as our biggest competition.” Carlos said. “You’re gonna get it more because you’re new.”

“Just remember that you can refuse to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable.” Lando said. 

 “Even the sexist ones?” You asked. Carlos and Lando nodded their heads.

“Especially the sexist ones.” Carlos said.

 “Better yet, I’ll answer them for you in the most ridiculous manner so that way they’ll stop asking you questions like that.” Lando said, making you laugh.

~~~

So many more races. Too many races. How does a Formula One driver get through all these races and have a chance to calm down? You were used to things going fast, but lately you just wanted a chance to slow down and breathe. 

That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor in an empty VIP room, looking out the window at a mostly empty racetrack. Phone in hand. Staring at the clock that displayed the timezone back at home.

2:00AM. Your parents are definitely asleep right now. It’s not a good time to call them, no matter how much you want to. 

You were so focused on staring at your phone, you didn’t notice that Max had walked in.

“Sadly I don’t think drivers count as VIPs at the races they have to participate in.” Max said as he sat down next to you, a Redbull in his hand.

 “It’s the only place that I can find privacy and some peace and quiet.” You said still staring at your phone.

2:01AM.

You turned your phone off and let out a sigh, placing it down next to you.

 “Something the matter?” Max asked. You hesitated. You didn’t want to burden a 3-time World Champion with your upset thoughts, that was for your non-existent therapist. But then again, maybe talking to someone who has been in your position before may make you feel a bit better.

“I haven’t found a good time to call my parents since the start of the season.” You said. “They were able to make it to my first race, which was amazing. I was really glad they could come…but with so many races on the calendar, it’s hard for them to come to all of them, and all the changing time zones makes it hard to find a good time to call them.” You told him. “I miss talking to them.”

Max looked at you, took in how you were hugging your knees. Max sometimes forgets that you're now the youngest driver on the grid. On the track he sees you as competition, but now he sees you as the overwhelmed rookie that you looked like right now.

“I understand what you're feeling. It does get overwhelming a lot of times.” He said. You turned to him.

 “How do you deal with it?”

“No matter what country we are in, I try to find a day or time where I can get the farthest away from being a race car driver. A spot that’s farthest away from the track where I’m not “Max Verstappen, The Red Bull Driver”, but just “Max”.” He said.

 “Don’t you get recognized wherever you go?” You asked

“Absolutely. But being away from the track, even for an hour, makes me less overwhelmed. And in regards to wanting to talk to your parents, yes finding a time to communicate is hard, but sometimes you just have to throw timezones out the window and call your parents. Even if you can only talk to them for five minutes, it’s still five minutes that you get to talk to them.” Max explained. 

You thought about what Max said. It would make you feel a bit guilty, waking your parents up in the middle of the night just because you wanted to talk to them. But at the same time, sometimes they’re the only people that could make you feel better. You looked back down at your phone.

2:05 AM

You’d be ok with just five minutes.

 “I think I’m gonna call my parents.” You said to Max. He smiled and gave you a nod before standing up.

 “I’ll let you have your privacy. But my driver’s room is open if you want to talk about anything except racing.” Max said before leaving the room. You smiled at him before calling your parents.

~~~

Finally you had finished a race with what you thought was a good race result. P6 was your highest placement so far this season and it was something you should be proud of. But even if you thought it was a good result, you knew that people were going to comment that George had gotten P4, placing ahead of you again. To you, it felt like no matter how high you climbed up the grid, if George finished in front of you, your result wasn’t something to be proud of. 

You were knocked out of your thoughts by someone bumping your shoulder. It was Oscar walking alongside you. The fact that he was looking directly at you made you assume the bump was intentional to get your attention.

“Proud of you.” Oscar said. “This was just like that one season of Formula 2 we raced in together.”

You scoffed but smiled.

 “Yea, except I now have the knowledge not to shunt the car into the back of yours.” You said. You spent most of thid race chasing Oscar’s rear wing and were glad that you didn’t do what you had just said.

“That time was an accident. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Oscar said. The two of you stopped walking as you got closer to where the podium interviews were taking place. The two of you watched as Charles was getting interviewed about his winning result. 

“So am I gonna see you up on that podium this season?” Oscar asked. You didn’t want to shake your head, but your body acted on instinct. You have been shaking your head a lot these days.

 “That seems unlikely. I haven’t been able to match George’s pace at all and he keeps out qualifying me.” You said. Oscar looked at you confused.

 “What are you on about? You were only 2 seconds off George and that was only because I was in between the two of you.” He said. You sighed.

“Yea but it was still 2 seconds behind George. It doesn’t matter how much time is between the two of us, if I’m behind him that’s all the media is going to care about.” You said. “I’ll never have the pace to pass him.”

“Hey!” Oscar grabbed your shoulders so that you would face him. “You have the pace. You’ve been building it up this whole season. At the start you were what? 10 seconds behind him? Now you’re two. Soon there’s going to be no gap because you’ll be ahead of him at some point. It’s bound to happen.”

Maybe it was the adrenaline finally wearing down, or the fact that Oscar was saying something you had been wanting to hear from your race engineer, or your team princpal, or hell, even it’s something the media should be noticing: that you’re catching up and proving your pace. Oscar’s words were making you feel like you belonged on the grid.

 “You think so?” You asked, needing the confirmation. 

“I know so. Screw what everyone else says.” Oscar said. “Are you proud of your P6?”

 You looked back at your car, then at the car of your teammate’s before your eyes landed back at Charles. You’d be in his spot at some point this season, you just knew it.

 “Yea. I’m proud of myself.”

[identifying-spacecraft-in-posts]

Convair SM-65A Atlas prototype rocket

US Naval Research Laboratory Vanguard 2 satellite

[ill-kidnap-all-the-stars]

Sokka

[ image description: digital drawing of Sokka from Avatar: the Last Airbender in my style. He is a dark-skinned man walking towards the camera but looking to the right/his left. He has blue eyes and his head is mostly shaved, with the top portion long and tied back into a ponytail. He is wearing a blue changshan with silver frog closures, silver moons on the collar and silver lion embroidery on his shoulders. He is wearing pale blue trousers and blue shoes with silver embroidery, and holding his space sword behind him. He is standing in front of a brown Water Tribe symbol ]

prints ✨ commissions

Continuing to repost older art, I have just decided that I am going to inflict upon you this entire project because it's cool as balls :) once again, the original influences and cultural exploration is under the cut (and once again noting that there is just so much nuance missing from these, since it's impossible to condense thousands of years and miles worth of culture into a few Instagram slides):

A Bit of Background:

The Water Tribes' culture is based primarily on those of Arctic and Siberian peoples. The Northern Tribe has more influence from Siberian peoples (for example, the Yakut, the Buryat, and the Evenk), while the Southern Tribe has more influence from Arctic peoples (such as the Inuit, the Sireniki, and the Yupik). Since the Southern Tribe was founded by ancient immigrants from the Northern Tribe, this reflects the real world relationship between Arctic and Siberian peoples. However, the Water Tribes also draw from other Indigenous peoples, such as Native American, Aboriginal Australian, and Polynesian cultures. And, like all cultures in the ATLA world, the Water Tribes also have extensive Chinese influence.

Some examples include: the igloos used by the Southern Tribe, which resemble those used by the Inuit; the Water Tribes' reliance on hunting and fishing, similar to the Inuit; Water Tribe warriors wear face paint into battle, a practice associated with Native Americans, as well as African and Southeast Asian tribes; Water Tribe boats are based on Polynesian catamarans; Water Tribe boomerangs are based on the “returning boomerangs” used by Aboriginal Australian tribes.

Standard Water Tribe Clothing:

Water Tribe clothing typically resembles the clothing of Arctic peoples. For example, the large, pullover coats are drawn from Inuit anoraks (also called parkas, although they are strictly speaking not the same). Anoraks are typically made from reindeer or seal skin and lined with fur.

Water Tribe shoes are influenced by the mukluks worn by Arctic peoples. These shoes are also made from reindeer or seal skin and are often worn with an inner liner and protective overshoe.

‘Hair loopies’ are also based on an Inuit hairstyle. While braided hairstyles are found in cultures all over the world, ‘hair loopies’ are based on a uniquely Canadian Inuit hairstyle and are called qilliqti in Inuktitut.

My Design:

Katara's warm-weather clothes are inspired by the Chinese cheongsam (Cantonese: 長衫; literally 'long shirt/dress'). It is typically a long, form-fitting, one-piece garment with a standing (mandarin) collar, an asymmetrical, left-over-right closure (右衽; youren), two side slits, and Chinese frog closures (盤扣; pankou).

However, Sokka's warm-weather clothing doesn't have a similar parallel, or even a less-clear influence. For this reason, I decided to draw Sokka in the closest male equivalent to the cheongsam, the changshan (Mandarin: 長衫; literally 'long shirt').

I embellished Sokka's changshan with embroidery of lions, which are a symbol of military prowess in Chinese culture — perfect for Sokka's smart strategies, don't you think? His shoes also have irises on them, which can represent insight, communication and conviction. Finally, I added two crescent moons on his collar because, while his sister of course has a connection to the moon, I also believe Sokka has one as well through Yue

[the-daily-bugle-official-blog]

Dear readers, over the last few days I have been attacked and personally threatened for trying to speak the truth behind our government, though now I believe I have found the root of all the problems in our country and the corruption behind our systems of power. Vital SHIELD, SWORD and governmental documents have been revealed to the Daily Bugle so we can finally reveal how deep this problem goes.

The truth is that for the longest time, even after HYDRA supposedly 'fell' along with SHIELD, our country has remained infested with foreign agents, whether 'redeemed' or not. There have also been members of the secretive Russian 'red room' program who are also hiding among us, trained assassins who could snap at any moment. This is a severe security threat to the people of America and the world, but we have luckily been shared the names and details of some of these traitors and infiltrators.

There are too many of the ex and current red room members to count, but we have several, including some previously mentioned on the Daily Bugle:

Katalina Anaya Yelena Belova Vera Heladottir-Banner Alena Kotich Androva Kotich Elianova Krevki Alena Romanoff Belladonna Romanoff Daniella Romanoff Lana Romanoff - Campbell Natasha Romanoff Rosalie Romanoff Yekaterina Romnoff-Barnes Pytor Romanov Ekaterina Solenski Willow Stark Alina Sunover

As well as several ex-HYDRA members or those with connections to HYDRA:

Natasha Afinona Aleksandra Barnes Daniel Barnes James Barnes Benjamin Emerson Garren Farley Scarlet Frey Finnian Holloway Hunter Jones-Westwood Nina Kovna Luke Lawrence Evelyn Lune Viktor Malric Jade Maximoff Pietro Maximoff Wanda Maximoff Nikolai Müller Story Right Charlotte Rogers Moth Rogers Iyla Romanoff-Danvers Atlas Romanoff-Maximoff Elizabeth Rumlow Elijah Smith Valerie Smith Rebekah Solenski Cameron Stark Donna Stark Nadia Stark Jamie Todd Enela [No last name given] Eros [No last name given] Miko [No last name given]

Its a lot to unpack, for sure, and there's plenty of familiar names on these leaked files. President Barnes and his family are obvious, as well as the Romanoff and Maximoff families being well known ex-red room or HYDRA members. President Barnes's HR representative and long time opposer of this company Story Right also seems to have a past affiliation with HYDRA, interesting...

What is surprising is the number of Starks on these lists. Tony Stark's daughters Cameron and Willow, his sister Nadia, and his granddaughter Donna all have connections to the two groups. His daughter Serena also MAY HAVE a connection of some kind to the HYDRA AI program Project Galatea, though we do not have more details at this time.

Several ex-HYDRA and even still active handlers such as the almost unnamed Eros, Enelia, both with no last names, Viktor Malrik and Benjamin Emerson were also revealed to still be at large, along with their assets. Several are also extremely overpowered such as Elianova Krevki, who is part celestial.

Multiple of the people on this list have changed their names to blend in with everyday society, such as Alina Sunover, who changed her name to Kit Holloway, and Rebekah Solenski who changed hers to Anika Summers. Pytor Romanov is also trying to pass as a Spiderman variant, proof that our heroes MIGHT BE just as untrustworthy as the supposed villains they fight

The Smith/Farley siblings, assassins and mutants who have meddled with time and space in their own rights, especially with Valerie Smith’s connection to Willow Stark, previously mentioned on this list, and the new Ronin terrorist who has been confirmed not to be Clint Barton. Moth Rogers is known to be connected to the Lehnsherr-Barnes family, another hive of suspicion and doubt.

Even further proof shows that Evelyn Lune, one of our own Avengers, has a darker side still loyal to HYDRA that could ALLEGEDLY snap at any moment. Similarly with Nadia Stark and an alternate version of James Barnes who still work occasonally with the group. These people are POTENTIALLY untrustworthy and a POSSIBLE threat, and in fact many Avengers were once members of HYDRA and the Red Room are now Avengers or close to the Avengers, such as Natasha Afiona, Charlotte Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, James Barnes and many more. The controversies just keep piling up.

Many of these members have direct and indirect familial or social ties with one another, and there are rarely ones by themselves. Whatever the case, these people were raised or trained by dangerous groups who wish to control world politics and bring about an end to democracy and the world as we know it, thus making them a POSSIBLE threat and liability to a safe America.

So what can you do to stop this threat? Well we at the Daily Bugle believe an official and public registration for these people should be in order, so call up your local representatives, send messages and open letters. If you see anyone who looks suspicious or out of place, do not feel afraid to inform the authorities, or your neighbours who might be at risk. Remember: these files are not complete and these POTENTIALLY dangerous people are most likely not the only ones out there, so stay alert and stay safe. Many are calling into question President Barnes’s leadership, especially since his sudden departure and reappearance at the White House after our last article about his family. He may not be able to handle this problem considering his personal investment in keeping this story quiet, but the Daily Bugle will not be quiet! To join our daily newsletter comment underneath one of our posts to be added to the list. Be sure to comment your thoughts about the threat HYDRA and the Red Room still pose below, or leave an anonymous submission to get potentially featured in a later news story.

And before anyone asks, I made sure that my lead editor was off sick while publishing this so you will not be hearing from him. The truth deserves to be known. Also no I do not proof read my writing, that's for people with the woke mind virus

– J Jonah Jameson

@playingwithwater @the-best-black-widow @your-fav-russian-assassin @over-bi-the-wayside @natt-romanoff @official-tasha-romanoff @official-natasha-romanova @elia-theassassin @thecrazyrplayerosie @project-traveler @live-to-see-another-death @alenaswidowbytes @natalia-reflecting @natalia-alianova-romanova @redroom-peterparker @doctor-mindweaver @official-buckybarnes @nadia-stark-official @hydra-bucky @androva-thewidow @alena-kotich @the-cheesy-romanova-campbell @the-good-redheaded-witch @alenaswidowbytes @little-lost-prince @hydra-handler @thatone-midgardian @project-traveler @reia-creations @multifandomer537 @oh-to-be-a-murderer @dont-touch-my-gun @daniel-barnes-the-ghost @ghostblade-official @handler-benjamin @capt-scarlett-frey @luke-lee-lawrence @c4m3r0n-st0n3 @cypherlune @jade-lopez-maximoff @official-pietro-maximoff @silentdeath-a175 @story-from-hr @guardianof4elements @the-best-duck-tamer @backupwintersoldier @jamie-todd-red-knight

//if I forgot anyone im sorry this one had a lot of people in it, also as always none of this is meant JJJ is just an asshole who hates everyone. also sorry this took so long to make i got rlly sick but IM BACK NOW IDIOTS SO MORE FAKE AND BAD NEWS FROM OUR LEAST FAVOURITE NEWS GUY. Don't worry about lead editor Jay, he has been cursed with the same cold as me

[bouncybongfairy]

First off, I love your writing and I can’t get enough really. I’ve been obsessed with your atla stuff and I was wondering if you’d be down to write for Sokka. Any smut really but like something like, you’re traveling with the gaang and there’s tons of tension with him. If not no hard feelings whatsoever, just a suggestion.

Do You?

Sokka x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: There's been a lot of tension between you and Sokka for the past couple of weeks. After and heated argument, Anng send both of you to get some air. Sokka finds you in a tavern after a couple of drinks and both your feelings come to the surface.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Smut

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Appa had been sick for the past couple days, meaning you guys were basically stranded until he was better. It didn’t help that you and Sokka had been going at it lately. You weren’t really sure why but everything he did drove you crazy. Anng paired the two of you up to skin the fish for tonight's dinner. The entire time he was criticizing you about how you were descaling it. Bragging about back home he could prepare a fish faster than anyone.

“Oh so since you’re the best and can do it ‘fAsTeR tHaN aNyOnE’ you can do this on your own,” you said, standing up and wiping your hands. 

“Sloppy help is better than no help,” he huffed. 

“Whatever, I'll go help Katara,” you said. 

“Wait no- okay I’ll chill with the critiques. Let me teach you,” he said, reaching his hand out. 

Without saying anything, you walked back over and sat on your knees. He sat behind you, his knees on the outside of your hips and thighs. Giving you the knife and securing your grip with his own. Holding onto the outsides of your hands as he instructed. As he talked, you could feel his breath against the back of your neck. Due to him being so close to your ear, he lowered his voice. Speaking with a soft and gentle tone, making your ears burn slightly. You began unknowingly letting yourself enjoy this. The way you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back. Liking the feeling of his body against yours and his smell engulfing your nose. 

“See,even you can do it!” he said in an extremely patronizing way. 

“Fuck off,” you said, feeling overwhelmed by how much you were enjoying his touch. Also not appreciating his poking fun at you even more. 

“Ugh you’re exhausting, even when I try being nice you push me away. Can't you see that I like -ahem- that I’m like, trying to make an effort!” he said, cheeks flushing red. 

“That’s it! I’m tired of hearing the two bickering none stop. Both of you need space from each other! Sokka you go that way, y/n you go that way. I don’t care what you do, but don’t come back until you figure out why both of you are so insufferable!” Anng yelled, slamming his glider onto the ground. 

The two of you made intense eye contact before walking away. Luckily for you, he sent you in the direction of a local market in the village. The walk gave you a lot of time to think; when he was helping you skin the fish, it felt like he had underlying feelings. Like he was purposely finding an excuse to be close to you. The tone in his voice was different, you never heard him talk like that to anyone else.​​ The way he slid his hands along your arms before grabbing your hands. It was becoming evident that the frustration and tension you’ve been feeling wasn’t caused by anger. 

You finally reached a tavern, it wasn’t much but it was cozy. Drunk men singing and goofing off with each other. A group of women gossiping with each other adjacent to a group of men playing Pai Sho. Immediately feeling out of place, you walk up to the barmaid and ask for whatever she recommended. Which ended up being some type of fermented wine. One of the young men comes up to you, trying to engage in conversation. 

“Are you new to town? I’ve been coming here for a couple years but I've never seen you,” he says, smiling while holding his drink. 

“Oh um, yeah I’m just staying in town for a couple days,” you explain, finishing off your drink and ordering another one. 

“Aww that’s a shame, I bet I could convince you to stay for a little longer,” he said, which made you giggle. 

You were now polishing off your third drink, watching the card games going on by drunk men. Enjoying the music, making conversation with the other patrons. Dancing with the group of young women from earlier. You didn’t realize Sokka was watching you from the wooden doors. Eventually the young gentlemen who you were speaking with earlier, starts to dance with you. Sokka was visibly getting more irritated, watching his hand travel down your back. Once the guy wrapped his arms around you, pressing himself against you from behind, he couldn’t control himself. Stomping over and pulling you out of the dude's grip. Your heart sank once your eyes fell onto him. Like you’d been caught doing something wrong, looking you up and down with such disappointment.

“We're leaving,” Sokka growled, grabbing you by the upper arm gently. 

“Does she want to leave with you,” the guy asked. 

“Do you?” Sokka asked, looking down at you. Feeling quite tipsy it made you nervous to speak. Like if you opened your mouth, only stupidness would come out. He was looking at you with such intensity and jealousy, you nodded your head in agreement. Leading you out of the building, into an alley behind the building. Giving you two some privacy while waiting for him to talk. 

“Are you mad?” you asked. 

“I feel like I've dropped all the hits I can. I don’t know if this is like… your way of making me just admit it but I like you. If you keep pushing me away every time I come onto you then I just won’t anymore. I can’t take it,” he said, walking over to the river bank. Letting his hair free from its pony tail out of frustration. Falling onto his knees and splashing some cool water onto his face. Seeing how disappointed he was in your actions made you feel stupid. Like you were blind to all his advances and playful teasing and it was too late to let your feelings known. However, you were drunk enough to at least give it a shot. Walking over to him and joining where he sat in the grass. 

“I think I was just nervous -hiccup- to tell you how I felt. Then because I was holding all my feelings inside, I became standoffish. I’m sorry,” you said, brushing the partially wet hair off his face before continuing, “Please don’t think I’m only saying this because I drank. Drunk thoughts are sober words… or is it sober words are drunk thoughts,” you begin making him laugh. 

“Are you gonna make me ask for a kiss?” you asked, he took your offer and smashed his lips against yours. 

Lips melting together as you straddle his lap. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it. Moaning as you started grinding down on his dick print. The alcohol in your system was making you more ballsy, desperately grinding yourself against him. Enjoying the friction against your clit. Sokka’s mouth hung open as bucked his hips up. Gripping your hips tightly, helping work you on him. He was sitting up, back against the back wall of the tavern. You were holding his face in your hands, moaning and panting against his lips. Pressing his forehead against your chest as he started to cum. His hips spasming from underneath, you could feel his length spasm against your core, sending you into climax. Time slowed while fire was pooling in your lower abdomen and you frantically rubbed yourself against him. Letting your head fall towards, letting him support your weight while cooling down. Both of you walking hand and hand, his giving you a piggy back ride once you became too tired. 

“Great, see sometimes a little space does people good. Glad you guys worked it out,” Anng said as the two of you walked to separate tents. 

“Oh trust me, we really worked through our problems,” Sokka remarked before everyone turned in.

[harbours-lighthouse]

Black Eyes & Confessions (Jason Todd x F!Reader)

⁀➴ pairing: jason todd x f!reader

— summary: jason falls apart.

— author's note: decided to write something small while figuring out the second part to my apocalyptic series. i also wrote this with very uncomfortable cramps, so that made me more inclined towards the angst...sorry.

THE OVERHEAD light buzzes above you, flickering in and out occasionally. You can hear the traffic outside the small bathroom window. You can hear your heartbeat pulsing inside your ears, feel the heat of blood in your hands. 

“Hey.”

Your voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it that forces Jason’s gaze to flicker up to you. 

“Why won’t you talk to me?” you whisper. 

You watch as the slope of Jason’s shoulders drops, heavy with a burden he refuses to share. It pains you to see him like this, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. The sickly green light above you highlights the swelling along his cheek and the mottled purple and blue ringed around his eye. 

"I want you to talk to me, Jason," you emphasize, and you want him to understand—he's not obligated to tell you, but you want him to. You want to share his burdens, the baggage he carries with sheer willpower and spite. And though it's easy to glorify a man that holds the weight of the world on his shoulders, even Atlas grew tired.

Jason pushes a long breath through his nose, the muscles along his jaw shifting. He's thinking. You can tell by the way his gaze flickers rapidly along the linoleum tiles.

There's blood smeared inside the grout lines now. You wonder if it bothers him. 

"I don't know what to tell you," Jason mumbles, words wrapped in hesitance. Uncertainty.

You tilt your head. "Just tell me what's on your mind. What you're thinking."

“I don’t even know what I’m thinking.” 

He looks frustrated. One of his hands that’s resting on his thigh clenches, fingers curling around a crease in his jeans. 

“I—yeah. I don’t know, babe. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” you say slowly—softly, “then tell me what you’re feeling. Even if it’s not exact. Just a…just a basic one. Like anger—”  

“Sadness.”

You’re silent. Jason’s eyes have lifted to your face, and you can see the remnants of something strong crumbling. Cliffs falling into an ocean. A glacier breaking in half. You see the way the dark hue of his eyes shines, quivering.

“Jason....”

You step into the space between his legs, and the breath in your lungs is nearly knocked out of you as Jason grapples you to him.  His arms squeeze around your midriff, and he buries his face deeply into your stomach.

His sobs shake his entire frame. They shatter whatever wall he’s placed between the two of you. 

“I’m here, Jay,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his head. “I’m here.” 

Jason’s shoulders tremble. He fists handfuls of your shirt with a grip you couldn’t get out of even if you wanted to—but you don’t. You don’t want to. You never will. 

“I’m sorry—” Jason whispers brokenly into your stomach, muffled and barely audible.

“No. No. Don’t apologise. Please, never apologise.” 

You sway your body side to side gently, hoping that the motion might soothe him. It helps you when you cry, when you’ve got no one to hold onto. 

Jason doesn’t say anything else, and though his body doesn’t stop shaking, he cries almost silently. Refusing to be heard even now.

You hate that. You want to change that. 

But you can’t. You’re not supposed to—only Jason can learn that it’s safe for him to be heard by you. Seen by you. Only Jason can finally realise that you’re not going to hurt him, and the only intention you have with your hands is to soothe away the lingering wounds that refuse to heal.

To gently pry away his fingers from the scabs he keeps picking at.

"I promise you," you breathe against his scalp, "that I'm not going anywhere. And I'm listening, Jason. I'm listening."

No, you can’t change Jason. You can’t fix the deeply broken parts of him. But you can guide him. You can lead him to a place that’s warm and soft. Gentle and kind. Safe and tender. 

“I love you, Jay."

Jason holds you tighter. 

© harbours-lighthouse 2025

tags: @kitkatlover015

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