So I’m watching the very first ep again and realize that when Shiro crash-lands and gets taken in by the hazmat crew he’s wearing what we learn later is his gladiator/prisoner getup:
but immediately following the rescue and subsequent getaway (during which he is out cold and still obviously in the same clothes) we see him the next morning,
clearly wearing his own clothes.
But where did they come from??
The other three paladins-to-be left the garrison with just the clothes on their backs (and lbr Shiro’s height and shoulder-to-waist ratio means he’s not going to fit into anything of theirs anyway), and there’s absolutely no way he’d fit into anything of Keith’s either for the same reasons.
That outfit is also not generic officers’ or instructors clothing from the garrison either, because I’m like 95% sure we see examples of both earlier in the ep:
A/N: This is my first Steve story, and I thought it’s finally time to bring it out of queue-purgatory. Because I’ve gotten so used to writing for Bucky, switching over to Steve was a little bit of a challenge. However, I adore him so I’m going to try my best. Hope you enjoy! - j xx
“Sssh, guys it’s happening.”
Right when you look up, a tall figure stops running and pulls off his shirt, revealing a body Michelangelo’s David would have envied. The sunshine and sweat add a shiny gleam to the ridges of his pectoral and abdominal muscles, making him look like a fallen god from the skies of Olympus.
That is, if fallen gods wore tight gray running shirts and track pants.
“And there it is,” Wanda breaths, her already-large eyes widening. She and Nat start a slow clap, the latter adding in a couple of whistles.
“I can’t tell believe you dragged me out of bed at six in the morning on a Wednesday to watch someone take off his shirt,” you sigh as you tiredly rub your eyes. You look around - there’s no one at the track but three of you and the hottie with the abs.
“You can grumble all you want, (Y/N), but you have to admit this is hell of a view,” Nat grins. Her steely gaze turns pensive and she muses, “You think those abs are completely gym-manufactured or made through sports?”
“It’s got to be both. That,” Wanda moves her hand in the direction of the abs in question, “is too incredible and has to be a result of magic.”
“It’s too early for this,” you sigh. But Nat is right, those abs are rather glorious, and you can’t help blush as you watch the athlete’s chest rise and fall as he catches his breath.
Right then the half-naked person of their discussion squints their way, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. While you’re too slow to react, Wanda immediately drops her eyes to the phone while Nat casually blows a bubble with her gum.
His eyes stop on you, and his lips turn up into cheekily smile. He first waves before sending you a two-finger salute. Something in your brain clicks as soon as he salutes, and you gasp, “Holy motherfu -”
Summary → Upon receiving his orders to join the 107TH, your mother insists on throwing your long-term boyfriend a wholesome, farewell dinner. But Bucky has different plans in mind. (Set in the 1940′s.)
Word Count → 3.2K
Warnings → Cursing, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex (use protection, kiddos).
A/N → Happy #FreakyFriday y’all! This is by far my absolute favorite smut I have ever written. Sergeant Barnes being a tease while wearing his uniform? Yes, please. Enjoy & as always, can’t wait to hear your feedback!
“Y/N, could you fetch the
floral arrangement? It’s on the kitchen counter next to the toaster.” Your
mother instructed, though she would never admit it to you, she was clearly a
wreck of nerves.
You nodded with a soft smile
before scurrying off to the adjacent kitchen. You found the centerpiece she’d
put together with ease, primarily composed of daisies and sunflowers, exactly
where your mother had said. It was perfectly arranged in a circular vase, it’s
meticulous beauty undoubtedly coming from your mother’s years working as a
florist. You took the vase carefully between your hands, gripping it tightly as
you hurried back to her.
“Where should I place it?”
You questioned, watching as she fidgeted incessantly with the table settings.
“Just there, between the
candles.” She pointed to a small space at the center of the table, not
bothering to meet your gaze as she adjusted the utensils. With a few final
touches, here and there, your mother straightened up and smoothed over her
apron. “What do you think?”
in the light of the recent events, how about a top 5 of chapter 244 Bokuto panels?
This chapter was A LOT, it saved me in every single way a person could be saved. It ended one of my biggest pet peeves, aka this idea of Akaashi not really caring about Bokuto and only being annoyed with him. Fucking finally.
ALSO it delivered a lot of very good Bokuto content, let’s go through it another time (as if I didn’t already consumed all those scans honestly)
1. Bokuto’s glorious back (it’s funny because I’m hyperventilating)
2. The epic return of the HEY HEY HEY + the iconic Bokuto sign (also I truly want to know who’s that person on first name basis with Bokuto)
3. Happy owl who just wants to hug everyone ft. a scared as hell Konoha and Akaashi that doesn’t even flinch almost as if…he’s….used to it….bye
4. TINY™BUT FIERCE (ง •̀_•́)ง
(plus notice his shoulders to waist ratio. I…gotta go)
5. A sulking drama queen. I still can’t believe we spent a week wondering why he was already so down, we went through all the possible hurtful scenarios and then…it was just his weakness #6
- bonus: the moment that watered our crops, purified our skin, payed off our bills and college for all our future children, ended every single war in the world, and mostly made all our souls ascend to heaven (plus an overexcited little owl doing the Naruto run)
I just feel…very grateful to Furudate. This chapter was A BLESSING, it’ll never be over it
I have been TRYING to not get my hopes up for S7, and TRYING to not obsess over the countdown.
THEN, they go and release that trailer, starting with my beautiful baby girl walking slowly and dramatically (FROM WHAT? Murdering little creeper? Kissing Jon?) and showing shots of my beautiful son Bran Stark back in Winterfell in a brand new wheel chair, and badass action shots of Jaime fucking Lannister about to duel with a dragon, and then they END it with Sansa SAYING STARK WORDS over footage of Jon killing some wights like it’s goddamn nothing with his freaking perfect shoulder to waist ratio and I DIE.
I had to get a new Metrocard, and every time I swipe it, the machine flashes the date the card runs out. GUESS WHAT DATE THE MACHINE FLASHES AT MY STUPID FACE, TWICE A DAY!?
The anatomy in Storm Hawks always seemed off to me, specifically the waist-to-shoulder ratio. Just look at this, and think about it…
Aerrow’s a tall, lanky kid. I get it. But his chest… like… that’s not anatomically normal, is it? Is it supposed to me an Atmosian thing, like, maybe they’re up in the clouds at high altitudes, so humans in Atmosia developed bigger lungs to make up for less oxygen?
I mean, you look at Finn, and he’s a little less awkardly-shaped, but his waist is still tinier than Jessica Rabbit’s. You can’t tell me that boy has ZERO hips.
It’s not just the kids, though. The adults are ginormous, too. Like, seriously, Lightning Strike, what are you trying to do– frighten off Cyclonians with your big ass bullfrog chest? Like, what?
And it’s ALL of the Skyknights.
Even Repton, man. He’s not even a human and he’s more out of ratio than any of us ever will be.
I know it’s just the cartoon style, but you’d think if all the guys in the series had chests that defined, they’d have bulkier arms and legs, too, right? Do they all skip leg and arm day, and just do chest day everyday? And even then, these guys are fighting, running, and flying constantly. You’d think if anything would be defined, it would be their limbs, right?
It’s like Chris Evans Captain America.
His shoulders and his chest are massive compared to the rest of his body. Even his limbs are toned, too.
But look at this.
We all know Chris Evans is a human Dorito.
I think what I’m trying to prove here is that the Nerd Corps animators had a strong craving for Doritos when they created Storm Hawks.
Girl, you know I want your love Your love was handmade for somebody like me Come on now, follow my lead I may be crazy, don’t mind me Say, boy, let’s not talk too much Grab on my waist and put that body on me Come on now, follow my lead Come, come on now, follow my lead
A song you were entirely unfamiliar with boomed through the speakers, its rhythmic bass reverberating in the center of your chest as you struggled through the throng of dancing bodies. The tower was overflowing with too many guests for your taste, dancing provocatively and speaking merrily whilst consuming copious amounts of alcohol. The intermingled stench of stale alcohol and sweat paired with the music overwhelmed your senses as you trudged on. Natasha had coaxed you into attending another one of Tony’s infamous parties with her insufferable persistence, reasoning it would be a great time. You had reluctantly agreed, despite wanting nothing more than to be snuggled in bed with your cat, binge watching Criminal Minds after your latest mission.
Relief washed over you as you finally managed to move past the crowd, catching sight of the bar where you hoped to find some reprieve. You approached and waved down the bartender a little too eagerly, ordering the strongest drink you could muster - a double shot of Patron. You nodded appreciatively as the bartender slid the glass across the wooden bar toward you, gripping it tightly and pressing its cool rim to your lips. You tossed the glass back expertly, gulping down the entirety of the bitter liquid in one swift movement. You hissed as a burning sensation ripped through your throat, half-slamming the empty glass against the bar as you straightened out.
“I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or concerned.” Steve remarked, his face-splitting grin obvious in the way he spoke.
“Impressed.” You reassured, turning to meet his blue-green gaze. “Definitely impressed, Cap.” You couldn’t help the suggestive smirk that tugged across your lips as you silently signaled the bartender for another round.
“At this rate, I’ll be carrying you back to your quarters, Agent.” Steve’s voice fell effortlessly into his Captain’s tone as he crossed his arms knowingly over his ridiculously muscular chest. His biceps bulged deliciously at the action, accentuating his unreal shoulder to waist ratio. You blinked rapidly, turning away from his frame as the bartender slid over two, double shots in your direction.
“If that was supposed to deter me from drinking,” you began, motioning for Steve to join you, “I’m sad to say it’s only encouraged me further, Captain.” You teased, as seductively as you could manage. Steve’s lips matched your mischievous smirk as each of you took your respective shots, tossing them back with ease.
It was no secret that nearly every agent under his command, both male and female, had the hots for Captain Rogers. It was nearly impossible not to - an enviable physique paired with boyish good looks and old-fashioned charm. Steve however, ever the professional, largely ignored all the affections he received. Yet, something was different between the pair of you. Different enough for you to take notice, but not too different as to alert the others - a flirtatious comment here, a playful nudge there. Over your time under his command, you’d discovered the super soldier was particularly skilled at straddling the line of professionalism loosely.
“My apologies, M’am.” Steve playfully apologized, raising his hands innocently in the air. “It wasn’t my intention to encourage debauchery.” You quirked a brow as you sucked the lime that accompanied the tequila, your cheeks hallowing around the sour slice. Steve’s tongue jutted out to lick his plump lips at the sight, gaze falling to your lips before reconnecting with your eyes.
“I quite enjoy debauchery.” You shrugged tossing aside the lime and reaching out to take his hand. “But let’s not talk too much about that.” You added, leading him away from the bar and toward the dancing, grinding bodies.
“And what do you suggest instead?” Steve leaned forward with the inquiry, his lips by your ear. His hot breath fanned over the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders, desire pooling from your chest down to your toes. You continued forward with Steve following close behind until you reached the center of the crowd.
“Grab my waist,” you instructed carefully, turning to face Steve, “and follow my lead.” You attributed your sudden bout of courage to a combination of the tequila pumping through your veins and the anonymity of being concealed amongst strangers.
Steve’s gaze darkened noticeably as his hands slid down the curvature of your body and toward your waist. He gripped you gently and tugged you gingerly closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he looked down at you, your eyes fluttering closed as you let the music take over. Your hips swayed and twirled in a tantalizing dance, entrancing Steve as you matched the sensual rhythm of the bass. You moved closer with each movement until you were practically pressed against Steve’s taut, muscular torso.
“Dancing sure has changed…” Steve muttered breathlessly, his grip tightening around your waist. You chuckled at the proclamation, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.
“You have no idea.” You tempted, pulling teasingly away from Steve’s grip. “Trust me.”
Your movements were fluid and rhythmic as you twirled around, pressing your backside flush against Steve’s torso. He grunted in response, his hands frantically finding your waist once more. His arms wrapped desperately around your middle as you began moving your hips hypnotically against his, your ass rubbing deliciously against his crotch with each sway. You arched your back against his chest, tossing an arm back and craning your neck to look up at him.
Steve immediately took advantage of the position, pressing his lips against yours as his hips moved hungrily to match yours. The intimacy of the dance deepened with the embrace, your tongues moving in sync with your hips. You broke the embrace and Steve protested with a small whimper, watching with wide eyes as you begin dragging yourself downward.
“Christ, Y/N.” Steve cursed as you fold neatly in half before him, intensifying the push of your ass against him. His hands move to the small of your back, simultaneously pushing and pulling you into his already stiffening erection. You flip your hair as you begin to straighten back up, leaning back against his shoulder. “You’re going to be the death of me, doll.” Steve adds as his lips fall to the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin.
“I’m in love with the shape of you.” You gasp, half-moaning at the sensation of his lips against your scorching skin.
“Bedroom?” Steve is just as breathless as you, his member fully erect against you now.