So Much Amazing Art Today! I Love Them Together.

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.

My word is poodle.

Cuteness

I was configured my new laptop and it will take some time to get to used to all now. But that performance and the color rendering on the screen just awesome!

Dies from just this one snippet.

attriage.⋆☁︎:･꧂preview

[anticipated 8/9] ❤︎‬❤︎‬

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 17/40 | wip | wordcount: pending. masterlist, notes, & moodboard. ART: pearl's character design | pearl & rocket's bunk | heartspur scene chapter one. nemotia. art by @/frostedwitch

pearl is a brat. see below for warnings & notes.

She gasps and bucks beneath him with a little broken whine. “M’not fuckin’ done with you yet,” he growls against her as aftershocks ripple along her body. He feels her shiver at the threat. “Go on, pearl. Tell me about your little plan, huh?” “R-right now?” she squeaks weakly, and he huffs a warm breath of laughter against her. She whimpers and moans, knees bending like she wants to curl her legs right up around him to protect her poor little cunt from his mouth. Unfortunately for her, trying to close them up right now would only mean locking his head right where he wants it. He wishes she’d try — the thought of those pillowy thighs pressed snug against his cheeks when he fucks her with his mouth anyway, making her flail and cry? He’s hungry for her, all over again.  “Right now,” he croons, lapping his tongue once against her. She spasms against him, and exhales a shaky, wounded little noise. The soft, leathery pads of his fingertips trace her slit, then slide up to her clit. He paints the little nub in gossamer wetness till it shines. She shudders when he does, and he grins at the sight of her pussy, fluttering weakly. “Is my slutty little housewife too distracted to share all her big-brain ideas?”

from chapter eighteen. attriage. ❤︎‬❤︎ 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: so much smut. cunnilingus, d/s vibes, praise, slight degradation, use of “slut”/“whore”/”brat” (affectionate). edging, mentions of pussy-slapping. playful bites. overstim. aftercare. maybe a lil bit of top-drop.

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

banners & rose dividers by @/saradika-graphics pearl dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

OMFG… I have to huff them all irrespective of any dour consequences and likely very personal harm!

rocket smells nice. (headcanon whatever)

in my head, all the rockets i write for (and the ones i don't) have a scent. if you wanna make me real happy lmk your own rocket-smells-like headcanons or give me another rocket to dream up fragrances for. i'm happy to give any rocket (canonical or not) a bouquet

headcanons & imagines masterlist | main masterlist

"canon" rockets ~

eidos-rocket ~ i'm not technically writing for this guy (yet??) but i headcanon he smells like cedar & black pepper (he stole beard oil from some spartoi douche one time but it made his fur so healthy and glossy that he hasn't stopped using it), spiced caramel rum from mantlo's, iron, engine fuel, and gunpowder. burnt everbloom 'cause you know this guy smokes (i imagine it smells gingery).

universe-killer rocket ~ i don't write for this guy yet either, but i think about him way too often. burnt metal and high-iron-content meteorites. something like menthol ~ it activates your cold receptors, like you're breathing in the breeze right off a glacier. star anise & fennel. you'll be tempted to take a deep whiff of his fur but even if he decides not to kill you, you're probably still risking a lungful of toxic vibranium laser dust.

general mcu rocket ~ some kind of evergreen and foresty smell, petrichor maybe; something metallic like iron or copper, and something burnt and smoky. in the earlier years, he always smelled like some kind of cheap alcohol; in later years, a leatherlike smell from his armored-fiber uniform. i don't think this guy reads a lot of paper-books, but he definitely smells like 'em. (i use this as a template for a lot of "my" rockets)

general comics rocket (especially ewing) ~ angargal's limited batch of course (i suspect it smells like a combo of spiced bourbon and rich dark-caramel rum, once the overpowering scent of pure fuckin' alcohol has evaporated out). black-black-black coffee. dark chocolate. amber. vetiver. that burnt, gingery everbloom again.

skottie young's rocket ~ sweet almonds (see cicatrix-rocket's marzipan smell) and banana (from some kind of cousin to nitroglycerin). whatever he's using for jet fuel these days, which doubtless has a hefty dose of benzenes (sweet-smelling and actually intoxicating ~ though since we're talking about a sentient anthropomorphic raccoon i'm gonna go ahead and say the intergalactic space-faring community has figured out how to make 'em non-carcinogenic). you will get some sort of low-grade contact high if you huff his fur like you know you want to. probably also smells like some kind of alien hops, too (maybe acanti blubber ale if he's gotten any good contraband lately, though i imagine that smells like burnt tire).

"my" rockets ~

space pilot & sweatshirt girl ✩°｡⋆ rocket - campfires, strong coffee, and evergreen. amber and smoke. rich dark hot chocolate and yummy bourbon, when he's with you.

blackmail material ✩˚₊‧ ♡ rocket ~ sandalwood, oak, gunpowder. the undertones of some sort of alien citrus-fruit you've seen him eating (something between a plum and an orange), and what you think at first are mulling spices but later you realize it's just where your own Xandaran body oil has rubbed off onto his fur.

window across the galaxy *:･ﾟ✧ rocket ~ blue spruce, fallen leaves, oakmoss, ozone (or maybe that's just electricity). iron and copper, engine fuel.

florescence❀ rocket ~ campfires, wet stone, the peppery-resinous scent of the kind of machine grease he prefers (his own concoction). a faint hit of vanilla-mint-honeysuckle from groot's flowers, and the clove-like spices from your cider.

⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⭑ rocket ~ juniper, blackberry, and something like leather. a sharp and smoky scent, like laser-carved wood. on some occasions, a hint of yaro-root wine (which is basically a peachy hard cider, with a dangerously subtle alcohol flavor).

cicatrix .⋆☁︎ :･꧂ rocket ~ blue spruce, burnt wood, and a strong, rich, buttery-sweet marzipan from the broken-down components of his C4-adjacent explosives. petrichor, labdanum and camphor, and faint whiffs of engine fuel.

headcanons & imagines masterlist | main masterlist banners & dividers by @thecutestgrotto & @saradika-graphics ♡

Guys, this was so fruckin’ good. The comfort, the angst, the panties. All of it.

cicatrix .⋆☁︎:･꧂

chapter nineteen. tiris. [new 8/6] ✩

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 19/40 | wip | wordcount: pending. masterlist, notes, & moodboard. | chapter nineteen. tiris. ✩ ART: pearl's portrait | pearl & rocket's bunk | heartspur scene | chapter one. nemotia. art by @/frostedwitch

rocket and pearl develop something of a tradition. the trio argues, and the kylosian has a request. see below for warnings, & notes.

The growl between Rocket’s teeth is a cross between a bellow and a shriek. With a flick of his wrist, the cannon extends and he takes aim, knocking pearl’s hand off his shoulder as the Kylosian cautiously rises to his feet. She tries to clutch at his jumpsuit anyway, and he ignores her, striding out of her reach and toward the Destroyer.  “I’m gonna fuckin’—”

“No disturbances!” pearl strangles out in a panicked, choking sort of gasp. He feels her fingertips brush the  magnetic holster on his back as she stumbles behind him, grasping. “No problems—” His fingers clench suddenly on air — the laser cannon plucked from his grasp right as he’s about to squeeze the trigger. His brain somersaults, unable to register what’s happening as he grapples compulsively for the firearm. It’s only then that realizes his feet have been snatched right off the ground, courtesy of the thick vine lifting him upward. Fuckin’— “Groot!” the Monster roars, tearing at the treelike limb twined around his waist. “Don’t you frickin’ dare—”

read more on ao3 | masterlist, notes, & moodboard

long chapter. thank you for sticking around! also, i am not a physicist lol

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: rocket’s a degenerate. dirty-talk and teasing while panty-shopping, with the threat of being overheard. brief description of fantasies. angst.

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

banners & rose dividers by @/saradika-graphics pearl dividers by @/thecutestgrotto taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips

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)

Ahem-

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

Oh shit. This is totally my type too. I can’t fix him, but I can fuck him…

"I can fix him"

Template from Groot (2016) #6