THIS IS IMPORTANT

Ahhhhhh! Groot!

hailbound. .⋆☁︎:･꧂

[anticipated 5/24]

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 10/25+ | wip | wordcount: pending.

pearl adopts a stray. rocket falls for a sovereign. warnings below.

When they’d parted ways, he’d tucked a comm in the pocket of her leggings — warm fingers tugging at her pants in a way that had made her skin sing — and had told her to use it if she ran into any trouble, and not to talk to strangers, as if she were a child. She’d glowered at that — glowered, an expression she’s sure hasn’t made in years — and it had startled her to feel it.  Rocket had only grinned tauntingly, but then followed the smirk with an, “I’m frickin’ serious, doll,” before loping away in the other direction.  And now here she is, with two soft stretchy pairs of shorts rolled up and gripped in one fist and a bottle of morningtea palmed in the other, pausing at every painted cupboard door inlaid in the quartz-streaked rockface walling the city streets. She’d noticed the cupboards the other day, and she had been curious, but all that curiosity had been forgotten in the blissful chaos of the clothes and the food and the hair.  Now that she has a chance to study them, she marvels. The few cupboards that are open this early in the morning reveal small stadiums of fifty or sixty clear-glass and tin-smithed cups, each cradling a votive as blue as a pale spring sky on Terra. Anywhere between five and ten candles are lit in any given cupboard, and little tin plaques are anchored into the rock walls beneath the cupboards, etched with the tactile written language of Cyxlore as well as Kree, Shi’ar, and Skrull translations.  SHRINE OF THE SYBILA NIX ORA Pearl tilts her head, shuffling through the glossary in her head, trying to find the name — but she comes up empty. Herbert hadn’t cared much for planets like this one: no real political or cultural merit, he’d usually sniff dismissively. She tries to interpret the little shrine, and a shadow moves across the space, making the delicate flames seem brighter. “I am Groot.”

from chapter eleven. hailbound. ✩ cicatrix masterlist.⋆☁︎:･꧂

a story about scars. two survivors learn about themselves, each other, hope, and the universe. a freakish little monster visits the high evolutionary’s bride on her wedding night. an adventure of intergalactic proportions ensues. aka raccoons make plans; the universe laughs.

WARNINGS for this chapter: still just rocket's anxiety.

fluff ✮ | spice ✩ | some smut ❤︎‬ | much smut ❤︎‬❤︎‬

Love this!

Absolutely his look.

Rocket Raccoon in this and his dad glasses

wtf is wrong with me and why am i laughing so fucken hard like this is so hilarious to me and i don't know why

the infamous rocket pjs

i just couldn’t decide if i needed cute baby Rocket in too-big pjs or sexy Rocket looking ridiculous with his eye mask

(forgive the ink splotches leaking thru from my previous sketchpage)

i still haven’t written any answers to these questions

but one day i will

one day i will

probably should’ve given the baby the sleeping cap too. that woulda been cute. maybe if i ever clean this up

anyway close-ups behind the cut

Oh, my poor babies here. The exchange is so beautiful. You can tell that they are both struggling so much. Your work is amazing! Seriously, check out all the art by shelbyinubakilee!

Entanglement

Rocket hurt all over, more than that, he was angry. He’d been through so much. So, when the small human threw the parka and scooped him up he bit through the white cloth right into the hand that held him, that cradled him softly against a chest with a beating heart.

A squeak of pained surprise sounded above him. Again, there was the taste of blood in his mouth. Rocket screamed a high-pitched wail before using all of his remaining strength to bear down as hard as he could on the flesh between his teeth. Again, there was the sound of another’s pain. For a moment, the arms restraining him clenched tightly, squeezing his ribs, almost hurting, but the grip quickly stopped and loosened.

Still biting hard, Rocket decided he wouldn’t let go until he was forced to or killed. He would go down fighting. He struggled, worrying at the flesh trying to inflict as much pain as possible. “It’s ok,” the voice above his said shakily, “You’re ok, little guy.” Rocket paused mid-bite, his teeth releasing some of their pressure. -Chapter 3 by @hibatasblog.

Wow. Caffeine did not help with anxiety. But it made me laugh though!

Rocket: [Referring to Blackjack] He’s selling us out!!!

[Rocket starts strangling Blackjack but is pulled off by Lylla]

Lylla: Rocket Stop!!! There has to be a reasonable explanation! At least give him a chance.

Blackjack: Thank you Lylla… I’m selling out.

[Lylla starts strangling Blackjack and Rocket crosses his arms and smiles smugly]

My heart broke reading this. So well written and beautifully loving.

Life on Knowhere II

Around one 'o clock in the morning, Cosmo and I were awoken by a frantic knocking on my apartment door--then suddenly Rocket was bursting into the room, slamming the door closed behind him, racing over to my bed where Cosmo and I were sleeping, waking us. Putting on a small night-light - something that wasn't too bright, was easy on the eyes - we saw that he looked so poorly.

His fur was everywhere, his gaze sunken, and he was drenched with sweat--a result of some of the apartment climate controls needing long overdue attention. Worse, the fur about his eyes was wet with tear tracks. Briefly, Cosmo and I looked at each other; then without any hesitation, she and I were getting out of bed, moving over to just embrace him as he snuffled into us, breath hitching. "It's okay, bud... it's okay, we've got you. We've got you; come on, let's get you into the shower..."

With a harsh, ragged sob, Rocket fell against me and I caught him and lifted him up into my arms, cradling his shaking body to my chest as I carried him into the small bathroom. I set him down very gently - or I tried to - but he didn't want to let go; he shook his head, clenched his eyes closed when I gently tried to pry him off. "Oh, man, it's okay, it's alright..." I murmured soothingly, "you don't have to let go, it's okay..." He did let go, only briefly - only for the time it took Cosmo to gently peel his sweat-stained pajamas from his body - and then he was holding me as we entered the shower, Cosmo turning it on, and setting it to tepid.

Rocket stood there, lost, listless, as I soaped, lathered, and washed every part of him aside from his intimate places, falling back against my body as I thoroughly cleaned and massaged him, getting rid of the dirt and sweat from his fur, then working down, down, to the skin beneath, working him over such that he sobbed again before starting to purr, weakly. "There's a good boy..." I murmured gently. Letting Rocket finish washing himself on his own, I briefly washed myself, too, then it was shower off and Cosmo dried me as I gently dried Rocket with the thickest, softest, fluffiest towel. I thought Rocket would sort of 'come around' after that - that he would wake a little, come to his senses, perhaps laugh a little then thank me and quietly leave...

... But worry grew in my heart for him as he listlessly wandered over to the wardrobe where I kept my clothes--and then my heart ached as he sobbed again, fossicked through my clothes, pulled out a shirt that was way too large, that made him seem so very small, and frail. He put it on, and then, raising his arms like all children do, he cried, "U-Up!" Then, Cosmo whimpered as he repeated the word, sobbing, pleading, "Up!" My heart wrenched as my brain misheard the word as "Help..." My own eyes filling with tears, I knelt down to him and then he cried for real - deep, wracking, body-shaking, silent sobs as I took him up. "Upsy-daisy, li'l man, come on..." Cradling him gently, Cosmo followed a silent guardian behind us as I carried him back to bed in my arms, then Cosmo pulled back the thin sheets so I could settle in, tucking Rocket down beside me, into the warmth of my body, placing a kiss to his headfur.

I felt her hop back upon the bed herself as I petted Rocket, soothed him, stroked him just about everywhere as he hitched another sob and soaked in the attention and care. A little later, he did sort of come around, as we were drifting in and out of sleep. "I... thks..." he roughly murmured. "I... I gotta stop doin' this... but... Lylla, Teefs, Floor. Lylla... still miss 'em so much, god... gotta get over this...!" Now I looked at him, my gaze a little stern. "Hey, man... grief... really isn't something that you just 'get over.' It's not something that just... goes away. It can stay with you your whole life; one day you'll think you're fine... but then you'll see something, or hear something, or taste something - or be doing something, like reading a book - and it'll all come back. Because... grief is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give but can't. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is love persevering. Grief is love - your love for Lylla - with no place to go... because Lylla's not here, anymore. I'm sorry, buddy. I'm so, so sorry."

Now Rocket was gone again, head sideways on my chest, muzzle open, heaving great lungfuls of air as he cried, and cried, and cried, silently at first, but then an awful noise of anguish escaped him and I made to cuddle him, squeeze him gently, put his ear to my chest, let him hear my heartbeat--fuck, I wished I could share with him my heart but I could not; all I could do was just be there when he needed someone to be with, as his friend, or in times like this when he just needed to be with someone. Cosmo, too, was there; she nosed under the thin sheets, whimpering, concerned, licked at Rocket here and there until he managed a watery laugh; then together, we all drifted to sleep. Tomorrow would be a day for Rocket - we'd go and do all the things he wanted to do, together, no matter what they were.

These two are so hilarious.

Nebula: Romance is dumb.

Peter: You're literally holding my hand right now.

Nebula: Romance that doesn't involve the two of us is dumb.

Holy shit. The first chapter was so fucking good! You will not regret reading this or anything by this author. Top tier quality and smoking hot.

⋆˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⋆ (a meetgroot*) masterlist

18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 1/3 parts | wip | word count: pending.

wind·fall /ˈwin(d)ˌfôl/ noun. an apple or other fruit blown down from a tree or bush by the wind; an unexpected piece of good fortune.

semi-shy touch-deprived reader tries to avoid meeting knowhere’s intimidating captain. is profoundly unsuccessful.

based on a prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting: The apartment she moved to has a beautiful, well-tended garden. After a while she finds out that her neighbor is the one tending to the plants and she decides to help him out one day.

mcu-based, post-volume-three, possible secondhand embarrassment. rising sexual tension with explicit commentary and fantasy; smut in part three. check back for warnings.

⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 collects Parts One through Three. Part One. Sugared Violets. 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⭑ groot attempts to parent-trap his dad. ✩ Part Two. Crystallized Ginger. 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⭑ nebula talks some sense into the captain. ❤︎ Part Three. Candied Apples. 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⭑ everything bears fruit.❤︎❤︎

no skin color, hair texture, or body shape/size specified in this work - the bodies depicted below are solely present to show off the damn dress.

some explicit statements or references ✩ explicit scenes or fantasy sequences ❤︎‬ long, detailed, and graphic explicit content ❤︎‬❤︎‬ deliberately smut-free, mostly or entirely platonic ✮

taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips

This is adorable.