I Fucking Adore This So Damn Much. The Art Is Gorgeous, The Expressions Are Perfection, And Jack’s

It’s so fucking cute. I’m gonna die from cuteness overload. I love it.

Commission gift for Hibata, inspired from his fan fic Entanglement ❤️❤️

Ahhhhhhh!!!! My heart is so filled with emotions. This is so, so lovely! I can’t believe that there were two new ones today! I love it x ♾️!

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind Possessing and caressing me

Jai guru deva, om Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world

Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes They call me on and on across the universe Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letterbox they They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe

Jai guru deva, om Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world

Sounds of laughter shades of life are ringing Through my open ears inciting and inviting me Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns It calls me on and on across the universe

Jai guru deva, om Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world

Jai guru deva Jai guru deva Jai guru deva Jai guru deva Jai guru deva Jai guru deva

-The Beatles

————

I adore the story Entanglement and Amor’ by @hibatasblog and @bbasmos! I love to think of them in parallel universes, different but connected by the struggle, grief and strife of both companions. All of which comply to a deep seated love. I can’t wait for all the new chapters because I’m a greedy bitch!

A question about fornication is asked. Confusion is the result.

sometimes a draft of a future chapter is going so well and i want to share it (especially when it’s something i usually struggle with like actual plot lol) but it would be like, major spoilers.

in unrelated news, chapters 19 and 20 of cicatrix.⋆☁︎:･꧂ are coming out so well. but holy shit this fic is gonna be long

here be spoilers.⋆☁︎:･꧂

(totally unedited & probably with many major typos)

Rocket stares. He can taste his tooth enamel, flaking as his molars grind together. “What,” he asks slowly, “do you mean by give you a ride?”

Drax shrugs. “After I win our competition,” he says reasonably, “I—“

“You ain’t winning anything,” Rocket snaps. The Destroyer looks at him with something like pity.

“I will kill the most abilisks,” Drax explains patiently. “Then I will gut the Daughter of Thanos like the enormous moon-scaled fish that used to roam the Forgotten Lakes of Kylos. But then,” he gestures with something like helplessness, “I will need transportation.”

“You… don’t have a ship?” pearl asks carefully.

“I am Groot?” Groot chimes in.

“Yeah,” Rocket interjects, picking up on Groot’s general question. “How did you even get here?”

“I coerced the captain of a merchant vessel,” the Kylosian says simply.

Rocket throws up his hands. “Then what makes you think I’d frickin’ want you on mine?”

Drax blinks. “We’re friends now,” he points out. “We almost shared a meal together. Your Terran pet—“ He points at pearl and Rocket’s brain is back to short-circuiting. “—warned me about the miserable tastelessness of Sovereign food. I complimented your impressive strength, and have spent casual time in your party’s company.” His brow furrows, like he’s surprised he’s gotta explain all this.

“We ain’t friends,” Rocket says darkly, and the words are almost shrill. “I’m barely friends with them,” he adds, jabbing a thumb at pearl and a forefinger in Groot’s direction.

Drax’s eyes widen, and he looks wounded and betrayed. “But we slept together,” the Destroyer whispers.

Rocket sputters.

“I am Groot,” Groot concedes, and Rocket turns on the Taluhnisan.

“We did not sleep together,” he snaps at the Big Guy. “For fuck’s sake — you three slept together.”

“I am Groot,” Groot reasons, and pearl chokes. The statement’s too complex for Rocket to catch, though, and he turns to pearl, who looks half-panicked herself.

“What’d he say?” Rocket asks dangerously.

“He said, uhm.” Her moonsilver eyes flick to Groot, and Drax, and then back to him, wide and alarmed. She’s pale except for two high spots of color in her cheeks. “He asked if the transitive property applies to mammal sleeping habits.”

“I am Groot,” Groot adds.

“He says, if I slept with them, and you slept with me—“

“I am Groot—“

“Enough!” Rocket bellows. “What is wrong with you people?”

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.

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]

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

Ya’ll. I hate people touching my hair, but I would let Rocket play with it, brush it, style it, and run his fingers through it 4-Evah. 4-EVAH.

✩࿐࿔ brush your fuckin' hair. [new 4/21]

✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | take what you need queue fanfiction masterlist | navigation

fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | anthology one-shot | word count: 1,649. read ✩࿐࿔ brush your fuckin' hair on ao3 excerpt & warnings below the cut.

the captain is an expert on fur, and he can tell you’re not brushing yours. it’s important to take care of your hair — keeping it free of dust and debris, tangles and shedding strands. even finger-combing it is better than nothing! and who knows? maybe if you can start brushing a little more regularly, the captain will even help you out on occasion. 

for nonnie! ♡♡♡ i really wanted to write this one with eidos-rocket, but i wasn’t sure if you were a fan of the 2021 game. however, please know i was channeling a lot of my eidos-rocket headcanons (like him being VERY VAIN about his fur) while writing this. a few warnings: one very brief, not-explicit off-color joke of a suggestive nature from reader, some assumptions about hair length and texture based on the wording of your ask, and physical affection/hair combing. i hope you enjoy this little story and that it maybe gives you some encouragement to take a little more care of your hair.

“You ain’t brushed your hair again.” The words make you stiffen in alarm. You’d been standing at the tiny counter of your kitchenette, opening two milky fizzes — one for yourself, and one for the Captain — and pouring a carton of zargnuts into a bowl when he’d decided to interrupt you with what sounds an awful lot like an accusation. You whirl around to face Rocket, one hand automatically flying to the back of your head — finger-combing the strands and checking for snarls. “Whaaat?” you manage to ask with a little laugh that you hope sounds incredulous, but probably sounds cornered instead. Your eyes skitter from Rocket to the book shelf, the ceiling, the holoscreen — to anything in your cozy studio apartment that isn’t him. The air is velvety and blue right now — just a few shadowed shades past Knowhere’s artificial sunset. There are only a few sources of light against the darkness: one dim plasma orb glows on the narrow coffee table, and there’s a handful of tiny twinkle-lights dotting your kitchenette shelves. Outside the window, a net of stringed lights shimmer against the newly-gathering night. The Captain isn’t deterred by your frantic lack of eye contact or your sputtered semi-denial, though. He’s twisted in his seat on the couch, peering over the back of the cushions with his head at a ridiculous angle. He rolls his eyes. “Don’t try to lie. I can see right through you, kid.” Your fingers fuss at the back of your skull and you wince. Your somersaulting belly decides to tie itself in a neat knot of dread instead. “Does it — look bad?”

read more on ao3 ✩࿐࿔ for nonnie ♡ ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | take what you need queue

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. ♡ view the take what you need queue to see upcoming installations & the current backlog. SOFT HIATUS: feel free to request things but i am going to take a brief break from twyn after chapter 29 posts next month. i got a few requests here on tumblr for other things i'd like to take a crack at!

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)

stop biting your goddamn nails (wc: 2,920)

take a frickin' shower (wc: 1,359 )

take care of your fuckin injury (wc: 2,102)

cook some goddamn food. (wc: 2,707)

clean your frickin room. (wc: 2,465)

stop hittin shit. (wc: 1,862)

do your frickin homework. (wc: 2,121 )

chill the fuck out. (wc: 1,499)

i'm damn proud a' you, kid. (wc: 1,639)

fuck heartache. (wc: 1,781)

stop frickin' apologizing. (wc: 1,207)

brush your fucking hair. (wc: 1,649)

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

teacup and teal line dividers by @/saradika-graphics | support banner by @/saradika-graphics | raccoon divider by @/thecutestgrotto. total wordcount: 43,690.

Rocket then licked all the things…

Peter: That's it! I want you out of this house!

Rocket: Fine! But I'm taking my drink mixer with me!

Peter: It's a blender! That my grandpa gave to me!

Rocket: I licked it, it's mine!

Peter: That's not a thing! STOP LICKING ALL MY STUFF!

Fuck yeah Dino bird.

Beautiful and sweet.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip. part one. prepare for departure.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist previous part | next part [est may 21] | main masterlist

angst, comfort, friendship, & fluff for @hibatasblog rocket & wanda | part 1/6 | word count: 1371.

rocket gets a very-important mission from danvers and needs a partner to go with him. enter the witch.

It is a well-documented fact (I know you know) that in the comic books, many of the marvel ladies have a thing for Rocket Raccoon. How could they not? Eyes like red beryls and pyropes, teeth and wit both so sharp they can kill long before the perfectly-aimed gravity-blast. Intuition off the charts, not to mention the things they've heard he can do with that tail...

Alas, this is not the comics. This is the MCU, some time between 2018 and 2023.

And while everything else remains more or less the same, Wanda Maximoff was not turned into ash.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Rocket says, rolling his eyes.

Wanda isn’t sure what to call him. He looks like a raccoon, but insists that he isn’t one. Maybe he’s an alien. Maybe he’s something else. Either way, he’s rolling his eyes at Natasha, so hard that his whole head rolls with them.

“Look, I got a very important mission from Danvers, and Nebs is busy right now, working with Kraglin to make Knowhere a more hospitablistic place for Snap refugees. D’you wanna fuck over a bunch of Snap refugees, Nat?”

He crosses his arms and raises a brow up at the new leader-apparent of the Avengers. If Wanda hadn’t felt so — nothing at all, actually — she might have let a smirk curl the corner of her mouth. He’s kind of a brat, and he knows how to get under peoples’ skin. When she’d been a child, she would have found that entertaining. Endearing. She supposes she’d used to have a soft spot for scrappy survivors. Then she’d had to stop having a soft spot for anything but her brother.

Then —

“Goddammit, Rocket. Go to Washington, then. I don’t care. But we still need the Benatar.”

His challenging look turns into a glower. “Fuck off, Nat. What am I supposed to do, then? Drive your frickin’ car?”

Natasha flaps a hand at him distractedly from behind her desk. “Yes, that’s fine, take the car—”

The look he gives her is withering. “I can’t reach the fuckin’ pedals, Nat. So unless you’re giving me permission to take the whole inefficient machine apart an’ put it back together to suit my needs, you’re gonna have to—”

“I can’t spare anyone, Rocket,” the Russian snaps.

“And I can’t be alone right now,” he snaps right back. Wanda’s eyes flick back and forth between them. 

Natasha grits her teeth. “You said this was a mission from Carol?”

“Yes,” he hisses, tapping one booted foot impatiently. 

She closes her eyes and sighs heavily, leaning back in her chair and pressing her fingers into her temples. “Fine,” she says at last, drawing the word out — petulantly, Wanda thinks from a great distance. “Find someone who’s willing to go with you and I’ll tell you if I can spare them.”

Rocket doesn’t hesitate. Without moving anything but his arm, he’s brandishing a single dark claw in Wanda’s direction.

“I’ll take the witch.”

Five years earlier — in the first days after the Snap, before they’d left all their hope on 0259-S with Thanos’ headless body — everyone else had belonged to somebody. Cap and Nat had each other, and Nat had Banner and the arrow-guy. Rhodey had the rich guy who thought he was a genius, and the rich guy had that other redhead. Thor had maybe lost the most, but he had Banner too, and his buddies from Sakaar. The Dora Milaje had their whole sisterhood. Only Danvers might have been on her own — but as far as Rocket had been able to tell, Captain Marvel hadn’t seemed to have a lotta close ties she was mourning.

But Rocket — Rocket had nobody. 

Again.

Nobody except Gamora’s sister, whose name he’d kept forgetting.

Of course, there was the witch. 

Disproportionate number of redheads on this planet, he remembers thinking bemusedly.

He hadn’t been able to remember her name for a while either, but unlike everyone else on Terra, she’d seemed almost as alone as he was. And he hadn’t been able to help but watch her, his eyes slanting sideways to stare at her as she’d sat by herself across the room, hands anchored around upper arms. He couldn't make out the color of her eyes — they’d seemed impossibly dark, with rage or grief or something else, something haunted.  

Except for when they’d smouldered like furious banked fires. 

She’d never said a frickin’ word, either: face blank and beautiful as a statue’s. Her silence had felt more surreal than any other stupid thing he’d encountered in space, which he supposed was probably just because he’s spent the last four years with a family of weirdos who’d never seemed able to shut the fuck up. 

Still. He’d tilted his head when the other avengers had walked past her — watched as they’d seemed almost to forget she was even there. They’d barely talked to her, and once, when they’d been ordering lunch, they’d missed her entirely.

Uh — you didn’t ask the witch what she wants, Rocket had said to Nat awkwardly, and the assassin had blinked and her eyes had hunted the whole room before they’d finally focused on the other woman — like she hadn’t even known where her fellow-Avenger was. 

No. The witch had been an outcast. And Rocket has always known something about outcasts. His whole frickin’ family — both, some small part of his brain had tried to speak up before he could smother it; both families were made of the unwanted — his whole frickin’ family had been outcasts and misfits. It had made some part of Rocket’s heart suddenly stretch in his chest. It had reached with grasping fingers, trying to hang onto something he’d already known he’d lost.

Family.

The next day, Rocket had cleared his throat and told Gamora’s sister that he was gonna go starside to touch base with Kraglin on the Third Quadrant — to see if he still exists, he hadn’t said, but he’d been pretty sure the cyborg had picked it up. 

“You wanna come, Blue?” he’d asked — wincing when his nonchalance had been too thin to be believable. But the Luphomoid had inclined her head, eyes dark and steady. When that had been squared away — surprisingly a hell of a lot easier than he’d thought — he’d  shuffled to his feet, and headed to the bench outside the compound, where the witch had been sitting since sunrise.

He’d stood in her line of vision and stared at the sky too, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, tail trying to tuck itself underneath him. It had probably been a full twenty minutes before he’d felt her eyes on him.

“I. Uh. I heard you lost your robot-boyfriend.” The words had been as clumsy as an orloni drunk on fermented Asgardian figs, but he’d been trying.

The witch’s eyes had flared, crimson-bright. “Robot?” she’d repeated dangerously.

Rocket’s ears had flicked back and he’d taken a step away, into the grass: hands extended, palms out.

“Hey, m’not trying to be a dick,” he’d protested. “I think I might be part-robot myself.” He’d stabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the Benatar, where he could feel  his new blue companion staring holes in his back. “Gamora’s sister’s almost all-robot, too.” 

He could also feel the sister in question rolling her eyes. 

“M’just saying,” he’d muttered at both of them, hunching his shoulders and half-turning to kick a patch of grass. “Some of us are solo now.” He’d gestured at the cyborg again. “Might be good to stick together.” 

“I was used to being solo,” Nebs had pointed out, and Rocket had winced. “You’re the one who got attached.”

His ears had flattened. “Whatever,” he’d growled. “Just thought — whatever.” He’d spun again, kicking more grass, and muttered bitterly under his breath. “So much for trying to be the captain. So much for trying to look out for the damn strays.”

“You’re the stray,” Nebula had replied with a mutinous jut of her chin — and how the fuck had she heard him? That wasn’t standard Luphomoid hearing range. 

Rocket had cursed whatever aural implants Thanos had given her. 

Then the witch had made a strange sound behind him — a little huff of breath.  A disbelieving, agonized little shred of laughter.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist previous part | next part [est may 21] | main masterlist

During a watch party for Avengers: Endgame on Twitter, Markus revealed the idea to team Wanda with the Guardian of the Galaxy captain actually made it into several versions of the film's script. "We had whole drafts with Wanda on a road trip with Rocket," Markus wrote, "but after the Vision plot in Infinity War, nothing we came up with was anything but wheel spinning for her character." CBR