Okay Rocket’s implants are not just little bits of metal sticking up through his skin. Look real close if your eyesight allows it. You can see the outlines of something under his skin. It’s a thick horizontal piece coming off the main metal piece in the middle.
I looked again at the little medical scan you see in the lineup scene. The implant shows up. It’s some kind of rod with pieces wrapping around the front and acts like collarbones, which gives him actual shoulders. You can see these pieces if he’s without a shirt or wears a neckline that shows them.
Similar was done for his lumbar spine, hips and pelvis to give him a more bipedal stance. Even his neck, elbows and knees have mods.
So here’s Rocket standing up.
Here’s a regular raccoon standing up from the same angle.
And here’s the skeleton of a regular raccoon.
Rocket wasn’t making shit up when he said he was taken apart and put back together over and over again. His arms and legs were literally pulled out of their sockets, taken apart and put back on.
Okay but Consider This: Lance....... loving himself................... and actually feeling like he's good enough.... like he really does deserve to be part of this team...... Yiss
now this is a concept i can get behind,, imagine: Lance being happy and secure in his role as a fundamental part of Voltron. He knows no one wants him gone and that he’s an exceptional asset to the team, besides being a delight to be around, also because all of his friends keep telling him in backhanded compliments and praises. “Nice shot,” Keith calls into the comms, and Lance can feel the smile in his words as the others whoop in agreement. He grins and pumps his fist in the air, dodging another ship coming his way only to turn back and bullseye it with an ice ray. In the castle hangar, Shiro pats his shoulder amicably and says “Good job out there, Lance” to which he replies with a snarky one liner on the gist of “I kinda missed the smell of galra’s kicked butts.” Everyone laughs genuinely, and Lance is still grinning as he takes a long, hot shower, humming some indistinguishable pop song to himself under the spray.
He still misses home, but the hollowness it leaves in his ribcage is filled with weird altean game nights and the feeling of belonging to a new mismatched family. They’re doing this together, for better or worse. And when they’ll have saved the universe and come back to earth, he’ll have cool scars and amazing stories to tell. Maybe he’ll write a book and they’ll get an apartment all together, maybe he’ll be able to tell his mom that he’s fallen for an unruly boy with a mullet and a heart of gold, that they want to get a dog and adopt children. He’ll bring alien stuff to his nephews only to see their eyes light up in awe, their little faces rapt in wonder as he recounts the tale of the salvation of humanity and everything beyond. He’ll tell them that he was there, with the bravest companions he could ever desire, and they fought back to back by the skin of their teeth against a tyrant with a will as strong as steel. He’ll tell them how he saw cities crumble and raise from the ashes, a testimony of just how strenuous is the instinct in all living beings to keep fighting for good. He’ll tell them, at last, how the light will always shine brighter in the darkness, and that there is always hope for a better future.
There are a lot of things that he didn’t know at first, and even more that he still doesn’t. The road is long, and bumpy, but he’s ready to learn, and see where it takes him.
That night, as he laughs at something Hunk said, Keith entwines their fingers under the table and squeezes gently. One thing, he definitely knows. Lance squeezes back, and knows that they’ll be okay.
You know what there’s not enough of? Canon compliant future fic where Stiles is a cop and he runs into Derek again. What’s that you say? There’s a ton of that?? Yes, true, but NOT ENOUGH.
“…. so then he says, ‘No, Officer, I swear to God this is the first time I’ve ever smoked up! I’ve never been in trouble with the law in my life! And I say, Billy, my man, you’ve been in trouble with me personally twice this month.” Stiles snorts at the memory. “Kid was so fucking high.”
Amanda must be halfway past tipsy, because she laughs uproariously into her beer at the mediocre punchline.
Stiles smiles. He’s satisfied with her reaction, with the warm murmur of the bar, with the buzz he’s got going… with just about everything, actually. After tonight, he’s looking at two full days off before he’s back on the beat, and the night’s still young. He leans back in his chair and takes a pull of his beer, savoring it.
Amanda glances towards the bar, probably considering a fourth round, and then visibly perks up as something near the front catches her eye.
“Oooh, Stiles,” she croons. “Look over at the door, like, just glance over.” She’s adjusted her gaze down at the table now, faking casual disinterest. Badly.
Stiles raises his eyebrows at her.
“This dude just walked in, he’s so your type,” she hisses. “C’mon, look! I’m telling you, six feet two inches of ‘yes, please, give it to me’ muscles, with some salt-and-pepper scruff icing. Unff.”
“Eh,” Stiles says, tipping his weight forward to hunch over the table. It’s not that he isn’t interested, exactly, but this is a cop bar and he doesn’t want to shit where he eats. Metaphorically.
“No, really,” Amanda insists. “He's… oh my God, he’s looking over here. He’s looking at you. Oh my God, Stiles, he’s coming over here!”
“No, he isn’t,” Stiles scoffs. He’s filled out a bit from high school and he’s finally competent at styling his hair, but he’s not that hot. Only Amanda’s sitting straight like a rod, eyes fixed on a point behind him that’s about where a six foot two man’s eyes would be.
He turns then, shooting to his feet before his brain’s quite caught up, because that voice is familiar like the back of his own hand.
hello! so i’m somewhere with my work,,,kinda. Yanno, like i said before, i still don’t really know where i’m at and my blog will be a lil bit everywhere but thankyou for sticking with me. I reached 2000 followers, thankyou all so so so so much <3 i needed a gift to part of my thanks- so these cute undies are a thing now! and real talk the preview took a while. regardless, please forgive me for my allovertheplace-ness and feel free to drop me a message anytime as i’m still about.
She let out a long, slow breath and glanced at Percy, unable to meet his eyes as shame coursed through her. Damn it, she hadn’t had a panic attack in years. Of course it would happen in front of a man who admired her strength and confidence, a Roman warrior that’d sneer at her fragile Greek emotions.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, picking absently at the hem of her skirt. “I’m sorry I got so wound up.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Percy said. His casual, easy tone sounded forced to Annabeth’s ears and she finally met his gaze. “I get them too. Not so much any more, but… at least you don’t cause minor earthquakes when you lose it.”
“Only with the real bad ones. I was a pretty big mess up here for a couple of years.” He tapped the side of his head, offering her a bitter little smirk. “Do you remember the chapter in the demigod handbook on all the fun mental health issues you get to deal with if you survive the questing and combating for the glory of the gods part? ‘Cause I sure don’t.”
Annabeth snorted out a laugh. “Wow, you got a handbook? You Romans really are prepared for everything.”
He’d had time to pour over
the briefing from S.H.I.E.L.D. and only enough time to try and process in the
quinjet on the way to what Coulson was calling a Helicarrier.
He felt both awe and
reticence when he watched the files on Stark.
He was intelligent and reckless and made Steve think a little of himself
and, much like he felt in his own skin, he wondered how much of Stark was a
He felt guilt watching
Banner. Of all the advances made in the
twenty-first century and still Erskine had been so beyond his time that no one
had yet caught up to him. The
fascination with the serum – with what Steve represented – had led Banner to a
prison made out of his own skin. (He
would wonder, later, how far off the trial serum had been in Banner’s case, I’m always angry, echoing in his head).
He felt dumbstruck at the
possibility of Thor’s existence. For all
that he had seen in the life he’d had Before, he never thought – he’d seen the vast expanse of the cosmos,
before Schmidt had disappeared into it, but he hadn’t thought that there’d be
something else –someone else – out
there. It made him wonder if Schmidt was
still out there, too.
He’d watched and
re-watched the footage of Strike Team Delta – Natasha Romanoff and Clint
Barton. He was. He was awed, and looked forward to meeting
them most of all. As far as the
information from S.H.I.E.L.D. had noted, they had no enhancements. They had pasts, sure, but they had no serum
or otherworldly abilities or suits worth millions.
They were human, made of blood and sweat and hours
upon hours of practice and (to read their files) abuse and perseverance and
they were as skilled and fearsome a team as any of the others recommended on
Steve thought of his time
Before, he and Bucky, back alleys and bloody lips and scraped knuckles and how hard it was to survive and here were two
people so dedicated, so skilled they may as well have been a two-person
Commando unit. Were, as far as Steve was concerned. He was anxious to meet them.