Pretty Much Me Too. Currently Working Up A Serving Of Pain For My Boy And Gal.

I don't care as long as you read, people. Reading off a shampoo bottle is still reading!

My mother says that fanfiction doesn’t count as reading because “it isn’t nearly as good as the stuff that’s published. You’re not going to find something online that will win a Booker Prize.” Please reblog if you count fan fiction as reading, or if the fanfiction you’ve read is equally as good as published novels. I want to see the figures.

Died laughing reading these.

Have some home made Rocket reaction memes using templates taken from the comics.

I will be making more.

Feel free to use these as you please.

Comics sited - Rocket Raccoon: Grounded (2016) and Guardians of the Galaxy (2020)

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.

Rocket is the grumpy, mildly insulting friend/therapist I didn’t know I needed until this series.

✩࿐࿔ nobody fuckin hates you. [new 7/5]

fluff (smut-free) | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabble | word count: 1,231. read more on ao3 | ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | main masterlist

put away your phone and your bad memories, and go to sleep already. nobody remembers that thing you're tormenting yourself about, and your friends love you. be kind to yourself. you deserve good things (including healing rest).

hey sleepy nonnie, you perfect little summer-flower fieldmouse. i'm sorry this took so long and i'm grateful for your patience. i know it's hard to believe sometimes but there are people who see how hard you try, how you are giving it your all even when you're tired, and how you persist in spite of obstacles and mistakes. and they admire you for it, and even love you for it. you are so much more than whatever's keeping you up at night. i truly hope this little thing brings you some comfort, and eases your way into sleep.

Your little Knowhere apartment is dark.  Blue-and-purple shadows that had wrapped around you like a quilt when you first crawled into bed now feel like a bruise. The sprinkle of plasma orbs strung across the dusty bone-street outside do little to keep the midnight hours from passing, and you can tell it’s way too deep in the sleep-shift because you can no longer hear Howard’s indignant quacks and Steemie’s bellowing laughter when the former loses at poker for the umpteenth time.  The only real light you can see is the rectangle of your phone, sticky and sickish and pale, as you scroll over the slick screen. You’re not even sure what you’re seeing anymore — just thumbing hearts into the things that give you the tiniest, faintest glimmer of serotonin. At least you’re bundled into a soft quilt — courtesy of Ssssaralami — cocooned against the shadows and oppressive quiet. The knock at your door makes you jump. It’s less of a knock, you suppose, and more the sound of someone trying to beat up the door. Which means you know who it is.  You stagger to your feet, blanket still wrapped around you and trailing as you shuffle to the door and tap the sensor that slides it open.

read more on ao3 ✩࿐࿔ for nonnie ♡

need more reminders from rocket?

the world is hard, and sometimes it's difficult to complete daily tasks & take care of yourself (aka rocket bullies you for your own damn good).

feel free to ✩ request reminders ✩ via reblogs, asks, and tumblr or ao3 comments if they would be helpful for you. it may take me a hot minute to get to them depending on life n stuff, but i will do my best. if you’d like to join my fanfiction taglist, please comment or send me a message or ask! ♡

this is about as wholesome as it gets (for me) i think. can be read platonically or romantically. mcu-based anthology, meant to take place post-volume-3, but headcanon however you want ♡

✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist

࿔ eat somethin. (wc: 576) ࿔ go to frickin bed already. (wc: 737) ࿔ get outta bed & get your shit done.(wc: 925) ࿔ take a damn bath. (wc: 1,375) ࿔ leave your frickin skin alone. (wc: 1,579) ࿔ take a fuckin study break.(wc: 1,020) ࿔ drink some goddamn water. (wc: 1,209) ࿔ stop destroying your frickin clothes. (wc: 1,609) ࿔ just buy the damn thing already. (wc: 1,271) ࿔ it's frickin laundry day. (wc: 1,923) ࿔ get some sunshine, sunshine. (wc: 1,614) ࿔ did you take your damn meds today? (wc: 1,288) ࿔ schedule your fuckin' appointments.(wc: 1,222) ࿔ do your goddamn dishes. (wc: 994) ࿔ brush your frickin' teeth. (wc: 1,774) ࿔ nobody fuckin hates you (wc: 1,231) for nonnie ♡

if you find any of these at all helpful, they're meant for you.

banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics and @thecutestgrotto taglist ✩ @suicidalshitstick ✩ @glow-autumz ✩ @evolvingchaoswitch ✩ @wren-phoenix ✩ @pretty-chips

total word-count: 20,387.

happy hanukkah!!!!

Madame, that raccoon is a wicked, wicked tease.

Candied Apples 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⭑ anticipated july 19 ❤︎❤︎

the THIRD & FINAL part of ⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall | main masterlist COMING THIS FRIDAY. FINALLY.

18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 2/3 parts | wip | word count: pending. thievery in the garden.

You shiver again. You just want his hands back, even just the forefingers that had lingered on your shoulders — something, anything. You gnaw at your lip. “C-Captain?” you say meekly. “Rocket?” “Yeah, angel?” You can’t feel his touch, but you can tell he’s toying with the bow. The featherlight weight of it shifts against your spine; the ribbon whispers against your skin.  “Touch me?” you beg softly. “Please?” “Gonna,” he husks. “But sweetheart, I told you I was a real jackass. Greedy. Mean as shit. Told you I was awful.” You hear him inhale: so slow and steady and measured that you think it must be in an effort to keep his own control. “I’ll be rough with you later like you asked for, angel — but this first time, I’m gonna be mean. I’m gonna be so frickin’ lightfingered that you’re gonna feel like you aren’t being touched at all.” Your flesh heats and you find yourself shivering again at the same time: hot and cold, fevers and chills. Slowly — slowly — he pulls on one of the tails of the bow, and you can feel the tension of the knot at your back, being pulled taut. The slight tug is echoed in the tangle of nerves in your belly, tied somewhere right around your cervix: tightening, tensing. Then the knot holding together the back of your dress melts into something slack and loose. Maybe it would be nice if the knot in your abdomen did that too — but, perversely, it only winds tighter. Another whimper rises high in the back of your mouth and bubbles out, soft and pleading. He chuckles at the sound — and abandons the bow.  Just — drops the threadbare ribbon to stroll another circle around you, eyes licking hungrily over your loosened straps, the disheveled dip in your neckline, the way your knees peek out from the rumpled ruffle of your skirt and press into the cushion on the floor. The way your fingers curl desperately into the worn fabric.

there is another preview of this chapter.... the THIRD & FINAL part of ⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall is COMING THIS FRIDAY. FINALLY.

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.

⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall masterlist | main masterlist flower dividers & banners by @/saradika-graphics

I adore this. I can totally see Rocket rocking some kid-sized sneaker skates… 🚀 🦝 👟

Rocket: Hey! Tall people! If we're walkin' together, please take into consideration my tiny legs! I can't keep up with you! Please think of my tiny legs — I don't wanna be joggin' to keep up with your leisurely stroll, you FUCKING TITANS!

Peter: Just get a pair of roller skates and hang onto my sleeve! We don't have all day.

Stop crying, I trying to help ya’ !!

#rocketraccoon #peterquill #petraquill #Entanglement

So fuckin’ hyped for this.

nemotia.⋆☁︎ :･꧂ preview [est feb 29] ✩

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 1/?? | wip | word count: pending.

She sits with them and presses the heels of her hands deeper into her eyes, and she tries to imagine the scent of the flowers, the feel of the grass between her fingers and toes. She traces the letters and the tops of the stones, smooth and sharp-edged.  And then, on the back of one bare shoulder, she feels that burn again: hot, scalding. Before she can even look around, the escaped wisps of curls at the nape of her neck suddenly shift. Her head snaps up and she whirls on one hip, nearly falling off the edge of the bed. “Who’s there?” Maybe no-one, she reasons — but if that’s the case, there’s also no-one to mock her for her fear. She knows she looks afraid: eyes big in her face, lips parted. She should hide it. She should. Instead, she holds her breath, and waits, but only the thunder answers in the dark. Then the light shifts on the floor, and she realizes the rain sounds different. She tears her eyes from the dark corners. The window is open. How? She’d traced every edge, looking for a crack or crevice, a lock, a lever — but now it’s open, swinging lightly on its hinges. Fear unfurls in her chest, and it’s so warm that she presses her icy fingers to her sternum automatically. “Who’s there?” she repeats, and her voice trembles. Thunder again, rumbling — but this time, when it fades, another sound remains behind: a chuckle, dark and low. Dark and low, and very, very close. Her head snaps toward the sound, and she catches the flash of something out of the corner of her eye. “Were you watching me earlier?” she asks, and that fear licks out from her sternum to the edges of her ribs, down to her shoulders and hips. “You shouldn’t be here. It isn’t—” It isn’t safe, she had been about to say — but then something grazes between her shoulderblades, like a paintbrush on her skin. Her head whips to follow it and she twists, eyes wide, lungs desperately trying to haul in air like stones up a mountainside. “You can’t — don’t touch me. It’s—” Dangerous. Another flick of the terrifyingly-soft thing again, on the back of her hand this time.  Something is moving around her in the dark. Something is stalking her. What to do? The door is locked. The closet is an open mouth of blackness in one wall, but she can’t barricade a sliding door. The open window had been a nice fantasy and she’s not ruling it out, but her curiosity is at war with her fear and she wants, more than anything, to make sure this creature or person gets out.  She knots her fist in the draping silk, gaze sifting through the shadows. Another flash of something her eyes can’t follow. She rises slowly to her feet, and reaches for the candle, and lifts it high. For a moment, there’s nothing. And then, in the dark shadows at the corner of the room, two perfect points of brilliant red gleam in the darkness: flat glowing coins, clouded with crimson. Twin blood-moons. Eyes.

chapter one [est 2/29] ✩

꧁･:☁︎ ⋆. cicatrix .⋆☁︎ :･꧂

wyndham’s bride lands on counterearth in time to prepare for her wedding. an unexpected guest arrives. warnings: discussion of non-sexual child abuse and grooming. brief mentions of suicidal ideations. animal/pet death. canon-typical violence.

inspired by mary shelley’s frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus. 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. 

enemies-to-lovers (as per frickin’ usual, only one of these idiots think they’re enemies, and tbh the enemy part is pretty short-lived.) while the beginning of this fic is dark (please check warnings for each chapter), we always get happy endings here. most chapters will contain super-smutty commentary at the very least. this fic is a longform expansion on wyndham; or, the galactic prometheus (day 31) of °˖✧♡kinktober 2023.

much like Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ , this fic is pure wish-fulfillment. i'd like a sexy space raccoon to rail me and then let me be stupid-sweet to him.

WARNING for dubcon/hate-sex (at the beginning), mentions of childhood grooming & abuse (no CSA), and brief suicidal ideations. please pay attention to all ao3 warnings/tags for every chapter.

if you’d like to join my fanfiction taglist, please comment or send me a message or ask! ♡

some explicit statements or references ✩ abbreviated explicit sequences ❤︎ detailed/prolonged explicit sequences ❤︎❤︎