#peter quill comfort

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Ok so- I need some period fluff with Peter Quill. I saw you do it for Tangerine, and while I’m not a part of that fandom, i thought it would be really sweet to do it with Quill.

It’s totally okay if you’re not interested or too busy or something! Just a thought!

~Bear🐻

hii bear!! I just had to do this first (again sorry to all the others in my inbox, I’ll get there, I promise) thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

if anyone wants the tan fic, link is here

“shark week”

Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 0.8k

warnings || periods but no specific details, fluff

I don’t usually struggle with titles, but this one I did (could you tell?) 😭 I’ll change it if I think of something better

masterlist + rules

taglist

When it was your time of the month, you had a tendency to be quite sluggish and withdrawn, only ever leaving the bedroom to get more snacks or to use the bathroom. So when Peter noticed that you were confined to the comfort of his apartment on Knowhere, he was naturally a bit worried. You and Peter had been dating for a little while now, so your periods weren’t exactly foreign to him. It was just something that usually slipped his mind as he’d often be confused by different calendars amongst various planets.

Today was your least favourite of all, the day of your period that left you feeling debilitated. So for that very reason, you had spent the majority of the day snuggled in Peter’s sheets, drifting in and out of sleep and eating copious amounts of Zarg Nuts.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you see Peter standing in the doorway looking at you with an uneasy expression that instantly softens once he sees you awaken. “Hey,” he says softly, making his way over to the bed and taking a seat at the edge. “You doing okay?” Lacing his hand into yours, brushing his thumb over the back of it.

“Yeah.” You reply, sweetly smiling at him. “Just feeling shitty.”

“Why?” He tenderly questions, eyebrows furrowing as if to analyse your face.

“Bleeding.” You whisper, softly chuckling.

His eyes blow huge, darting over you with caution. “Oh— oh” he responds, finally catching on. “Shark week… again?”

“Yeah Pete, that’s how they work.” You laugh hard, abruptly cutting off when you feel something you shouldn’t have.

His reaction mimics yours, eyes widening when he sees your parted lips. “What? You okay?” His gaze follows you as you bolt out of bed. “What’s going on?”

“Just need—“ your reply muffles behind the bathroom door.

“Need what?” He sweetly questions, nuzzling his ear to the door.

“Shit.” You mumble. Now talking loud enough for him to hear. “In the nightstand, top drawer… there’s a—a paper type box, please can you bring it to me?”

Within seconds, he’s back and knocking on the door with your box of feminine products. “Do I put it under the door, or— or close my eyes? I don’t know what to do, what do I do here?” He replies, his tone flustered as he presses back up against the door.

Adjusting yourself and hiding the toilet paper. “You can come in.”

He slowly opens the door, hand clutched over his eyes as he wavers the box towards you, using the space around him as a guide. Accidentally bumping into a few things along the way. “Put your hand out… what can I get you? What do you need?” He warmly asks, gingerly backing out to give you a moment of privacy.

Stifling a snicker as you watch him leave. “I think I’m okay for now… maybe some tea? Steal it from Mantis, she has good tea.”

“On it.” Running away only to return a second later. Enunciating through the door. “I love you!”

“I love you!” You loudly reply, a wide smile spread along your lips.

When you return to the bedroom, you see Peter bundled under the covers with snacks spread across the bed, holding items to help with your cramps and pains. “Get in.” He grins, opening the covers so you could slip yourself in beside him. Snuggling next to him, he lifts your head so he could support your neck with his bicep, holding you tight against him. “I don’t know if you need this now, or…?” He starts, pulling a hot water bottle from under the sheets.

“Was that on your stomach?” You ask, a giggle held behind your lips.

Chuckling. “Yeah… feels really good.”

“Yeah, I know.” You laugh, nuzzling the side of your head into his chest. “I don’t need it right now, you can keep it.”

“Oh, you’re the best.” He smiles, resting the flat bottle over his abdomen. “Just take it off me if you need it.”

Hiding a grin, you look up at him, gazing in admiration. “I need it now.” Watching his smile slightly fade. “I’m just kidding.”

He fakes a laugh with accentuated and playful features. “Do you need anything? … medicine? Back rub? Foot rub? Kisses? Bath? Sleep? Food? Chocolate? Tummy rub? Tea? — no we got tea. I think making out will help, yeah making out will definitely help.” He aimlessly lists, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yes.”

“To what?” He boyishly grins, twisting his neck to kiss your temple.

“To it all.” You reply, wrapping your arm over his chest. “But I think a nap first, that okay?”

“I’m always down for a nap.”

[queer-eggman]

Why I think it is wrong to sexualize Rocket: a rant/vent

I’ve been seeing tons of posts and comments that have made me super upset lately. So much so that I’ve had to block #roquill (most of the gross stuff is from that ship I hate roquill so fkn much omg ). And I’ve just felt like I need to talk about it even though nobody asked for my opinion.

Please note must of this can be defeated by ‘he’s just a fictional character’ but ill address that in a bit.

Rocket’s story is fundamentally about he trying to overcompensate and regain control of his life after years of trauma and abuse. There is no point in the comics or movies where he is recovered in any meaningful capacity. Of course you can be attracted to fictional characters but it’s upsetting when his most sexualized quality is that he’s ‘bratty’. His anger issues are a trauma response and he isn’t like that at all when he’s comfortable. His characterization is that of a broken man dragging his way through life and realizing it’s ok to find comfort in other people. Sure, he’s witty and clever and furries love him but the fact that I’ve seen comments on Rocket art like “he’s such a power bottom omg…” when it’s not even suggestive makes me want to throw up.

Now the weird part of this post

I see the characters I kin as not only real people, but as facets of myself. When I personally see Rocket sexualized, it feels like an attack on ME. Rocket is genuinely one of the things that kept me from ending it for so long. I developed severe maladaptive daydreaming to cope with being bullied for being queer in the Deep South. For many years i promised myself I’d survive to see gotg vol 3. I’ve found such deep comfort and solace in him that the way I think and process things often connects to him. His personality molded to me and has stuck. He is me. Of course not literally; I know full well he’s just a character; but his story and his motivations and how he is as a person reflects myself so deeply I find it hard to separate where he ends and I, myself, begin.

I’ve heard that the character you relate to the most is how you see yourself; and that is fully true here. Me and him are just trying to gain control of our lives and make it through without relapsing. Even though I’m not an alien lab experiment or badass bounty hunter; I feel for him. I often think of him as a little ghost in the back of my head, guiding me through my life and a trans and autistic person in a rough spot.

Of course, I can’t and won’t stop anyone from liking what they like. I just wanted to share my experiences with Rocket and how much he truly means to me :)

(yes I should probably get real therapy yes I pirated every single gotg comic yes I own the plushie from Disney world yes I have thousands of headcannons that I’d love to share if anyone wants to hear them)

[this-vs-that]

This question was sent to our inbox. If you’d like for us to post a This or That poll for you, send the 2 things you want to see against each other to our inbox and we’ll let the people decide which one they prefer. Everything will be anonymous.

[divercitizen]

You know when you have a character you already like, but due to life circumstances you end up latching onto them for comfort and to keep whatever remaining sanity you have left??

Anyway this moron is the only thing between me and completely losing it right now.

[sincerelykarai]

Wake up!

Authors Note: This is another Oneshot of Rocket ^^ btw this was inspired by that one scene in helluva boss Ghostf*ckers so kinda spoilers for that? Just read at your own risk ig 🤷‍♀️ Also its angst with a side of hurt/comfort!

Trigger warnings: Gore, Violent depictions,swearing and other stuff like that

He doesn't even remember how this happened. One minute he was in the Milano safe and sound in his quarters, the next he was small and fragile, running around the lab. It seemed like eerie, endless hallways with dim, flickering lights and rusted cages. He could hear other animals whining, howling, but it was all muffled compared to his paws hitting the metal ground beneath him and the sound of his heart pumping blood which was rushing through his ears.

"You can't outrun me, 89P13!" Rocket heard the High Evolutionary shout, and he felt his heart as if it was in his throat, choking out any air. He continued running, hallway after hallway without stopping. He stopped once his legs gave out with a tremble, panting as he caught his breath even if he heard the scientists coming after him. It wasn't long before he started running again, turning through hallway after hallway before he felt something shove him, and he tumbled into the ground.

"What the..?-" He mumbled, before noticing the similar white rabbit above him, with the multiple thin metal legs. "Floor? What are you-"

"HOW COULD YOU?!" Floor screeched, her voice sounding more metallic and her body coated in warm, red blood. "Rocket got floor killed! Rocket got floor killed!" She repeated over and over again in the high pitched, screeching voice.

"What?! No, it was an accident I swear!-" Rocket exclaimed but Floor tried to swipe him, digging one of her sharp legs into his arm, hot, stinging blood dripping down his arm. Rocket took off running again, this time limping slightly and leaving a trail of blood behind him.

"No, no no no no-" He chanted in his head. "Just a dream just a dream just a stupid fucking dream-" He continued running, hallway after hallway, he felt like a rat stuck in a maze.

"Rocket?" Lylla called out, and he froze in place.

"Lylla!" Rocket almost broke into a sob, running into her arms, even if they were cold and made of metal, he could still feel the love and warmth in them.

"Lylla, I- I was having the worst dream-" He practically cried, as Lylla quietly shushed him, running a metal paw through his fur.cHe finally felt safe....

Until he felt something dripping down his fur.

He glanced up, only to see Lylla's face mauled, covered in blood and flesh and bone. "Why'd you do it?" Is all the face said, but the odd sweetness in her tone sent chills down his spine. Soon her whole body was falling apart, blood coating his paws.

"Wait wait wait- Lylla please! I'm sorry please don't go!" Rocket sobbed, trying to grab onto her but there was nothing to grab apart from the raw feeling of bone. "LYLLA DON'T GO!-" He screamed, before everything faded to black.

"Rocket, wake up!" Quill shouted, shaking Rocket awake.

Rocket woke up with a gasp, his chest heaving and his fur damp with cold sweat. "I- where-"

"Dude, you're fine. It's me, Quill." *He reassured him, holding his shoulders.

"But.. Who's Lylla?"

[izzydaninja]

Sonic Prime - Finale Rewrite? Sonic Prime & Avengers: Infinity War Peter Parker Dying Scene, recreated to be Sonic dying. This was a random silly idea at first, but I decided to keep going with it. :) Hopefully you all liked it. I got awfully sloppy with a lot of it. Didn't bother finishing some of the hand and shoe basic sketches, and just left them as warped blobs and such. lol But, as long as it gets the meaning across, I'm good with it. I would've done a fully finished comic, but I knew I'd never get it done, so I just left it as the sloppy sketchy mess it is. Did enjoy taking my time on the last panel, though. :3 Sonic as Peter Parker/Spider-Man Shadow as Tony Stark/Iron-Man

~The heart is for my signature in the background, not for the characters and panels, etc. lol Sorry if it was misinterpreted as such.~ *DO NOT TAKE, COPY, OR REDRAW* ~No stealy~

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 25

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Just as things are starting to look up- spiders. So many spiders. Will everything be okay, or will Reader crumble under the pressure?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: By gods, I've been writing this chapter since MAY of 2022!! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 72 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7,668

Your little chat with Yondu had actually made you feel better, to your surprise.

Sure, you still had bouts of post-vulnerability-embarrassment, but you found that a weight had been lifted somewhat when you went to bed that night, and you couldn't deny that you actually did feel better in the morning, enough so that you actually got right back into using the remote to prank Peter, though you of course now refrained from using it when Yondu was also watching the television for fear of prompting him to tell Peter what he knew out of spite.

The next couple days your mood improved even further.

You decided to join another sparing round with the others, though you did avoid matching with Peter out of paranoia that he'd pull another stunt like the last time. You were teased for this, mostly because when it happened you had turned to see he was your next match only to audibly state, "Nope!" and motioned him on to pair with Mantis instead. This made the others laugh, but you simply rolled your eyes with half a light-hearted smirk and brushed it off.

The day after that you decided to finally show Yondu some "Terran Archery" as you had said you would some time ago. He actually caught on really well, though he didn't deny that he preferred his own arrow. Then, seemingly just to show off, he whistled to command his arrow circle you three times before taking off to shoot clear through your target and then come back to rest in his holster.

Pretending not to be impressed, you start to head back toward the shed to put your bow and quiver away. "You know, you still never really said how Fury allowed you to keep that arrow."

Yondu just grinned and shrugged as he followed your lead to return. "Like I said. That's for me to know."

"Come on now!" You scoff. "Surely after making me spill my life story the other night you can at least tell me that."

Yondu pretended to think, smirking all the while. "Hmm… Nah. Pretty sure we never came to any such agreement."

"Seriously?!"

"Yup."

You sigh, letting it go for now. "Well, can you at least tell me how it works?"

"Whatcha wanna know that for? Ain't like ya'd be able to use it." He grinned teasingly at you.

Whether he meant he wouldn't dream of letting you try it, or that it literally only worked for him, you weren't sure- though you had a suspicion it was the latter. "Just curious," you respond, "I mean, I showed you how humans do archery, figured maybe you'd at least tell me a little something about your space arrow?"

Yondu appeared slightly annoyed, rolling his eyes and stopping to turn to you. He realized he was going to have to give you the same talk he gave Quill shortly after he brought him aboard the Eclector as a boy. "Let's get one thing straight. I know you Terrans ain't know a lot, so it ain't fully yer fault, but here's a lesson. You and me?" He gestured back and forth between you. "We're both 'human-' Got it?"

Confusion prompted you to look back at him. Both human? That couldn't be right. You were from Earth. He was from a different planet- an alien. Did people on his planet call themselves 'humans' too?

He continued. "You Terrans might think you're the only ones in the universe, but that don't make everyone else less than human."

Oh.

The guilt must have shown on your face because he sighed and tried to curb his annoyance. Slightly. "You? Me? Both human." He points at you again. "You and Quill, ya'll are Terran." He points to himself. "I'm Centaurian. Different races, both still 'human.' Got it?"

You nod. "Yes. Sorry-"

He waved you off, seeming satisfied enough and wishing to change the subject. The two of you begin walking again as he spoke. "Anyway, the fin picks up my whistle and sends it to the arrow. Arrow gets the whistle and goes where -and through who- I want it to."

"Uh, that's it? It's that simple? Do a lot of people use that in space?" you ask, deciding to move forward in the conversation with him.

Yondu laughed out his nose. "It's the best explanation yer gonna get, and no, it's actually not simple at all, and no- I'm sure I'm the only one with something like this."

Your eyebrows raised. "Oh. Why's that?"

"That's enough questions about the arrow for now," he replied flatly. His expression was just as flat, and you couldn't get a read on the reason for his reluctance to talk much about his arrow. He didn't seem upset or uncomfortable. Was he was just a "keep to himself" type of person, or was he just good at keeping up a mask?

You relented, slightly disappointed, but deciding to push forward with another question as you neared the shed. "Alright then. Um, what is your planet like?"

Out of nowhere Yondu's hand connects with your side to give it a couple quick squeezes, which results in you jumping with a startled giggly shriek. He hadn't even looked at you before doing it, which only made it all the more unexpected.

It was over in an instant but you still glared at him indignantly, feeling your face heat up. "What was that for!?"

Yondu shrugged with a grin. "To change the subject. Worked, didn't it?" With that he continued off towards the house, leaving you alone at the shed.

You huffed slightly and just went to put your quiver and bow back away.

* * *

Later that day you fancied yourself a glass of juice after switching the laundry you had just washed over to the dryer. The plan was to enjoy it in the sitting room while you re-read one of your favorite mystery books. After pouring yourself a glass and placing the bottle back in the fridge you grabbed said glass from the counter and turned to walk back towards the sitting room. It was then that you saw a shot of brown dart across the kitchen floor.

Recognizing it immediately as a house spider you jumped nearly out of your skin and dropped your glass, spilling your juice all over the tile floor, but fortunately not breaking the cup.

Unfortunately, Yondu and Kraglin had walked in around this same time and saw the whole thing, if Yondu's chuckling was any evidence to the fact.

Cheeks heating up, you quickly grabbed a towel to clean up your mess. You expected to be teased about the spider, but instead you heard, "Damn, I know Krags is funny-lookin', but we didn't expect to startle ya that much!"

You glance up, not intending to argue but grateful they didn't seem to notice the real cause of your startle. Kraglin jokingly put on a disgruntled face towards Yondu for the insult before turning to look in the pantry.

Then you saw Yondu throw you a wink before doing the same.

So he did see… and he was covering for you? Why? Never mind. You weren't going to argue or ask. But you did think you should consider making a special trip into town tomorrow to get some repellents or maybe some traps.

Once your mess was cleaned up you left the kitchen- no longer in the mood for juice, or to read. However, you thought maybe you were in the mood to watch something on TV, and upon seeing that nobody was occupying the television you decided to scroll through Netflix, finally settling on a familiar movie you had seen several times before.

Miraculously you got through the whole movie without anyone even coming into the sitting room, and you actually started to wonder where the others might be before you glanced at the clock and noticed how late it had gotten. They must all be in bed, and you should probably follow suit.

Doing your best to be quiet as to not wake anyone you went about getting ready for bed in the bathroom. It wasn't until you were about to shut off the light and retreat to your bed after brushing your teeth did you spot another spider. It was perhaps half the size of the one you had seen in the kitchen, but that didn't make you feel much better considering it was still about 3cm wide. You had almost touched it when you went for the switch and jerked your hand back at the last moment, catching an exclamation in your throat.

The spider quickly scurried away before you could act and somehow you lost sight of it. Unwilling to stay up to find it you quickly shut out the light and left the bathroom. That was a problem for anyone else. Tomorrow.

For now you were definitely sure you were going to the shops in the morning for both repellent and traps.

Fucking spider season.

* * *

Despite going to bed late you managed to wake early, and you would have tried to sleep-in if you hadn't reasoned with yourself that the sooner you left the sooner you would be back with stuff to get rid of the spiders and hopefully keep them away. Also you had to pee.

It seemed no one else was awake, which you became grateful for as it meant it was unlikely that anyone heard the very loud gasp you let out the moment you turned from closing the bathroom door towards the toilet and found the spider from last night sitting on the opened toilet lid, taunting you.

You considered for a moment nope-ing right out of there to go use the toilet downstairs, but you could hear the sounds of someone opening their door and started to feel self-conscious of someone possibly seeing you flee one toilet for the other due to a spider. It also wouldn't solve your problem as you'd need to come right back to this bathroom anyway because everything you needed to wash up and get ready with for the morning was in here.

Damn it.

Ok. What were your other options?

Maybe flick it off with a towel? But then you'd have to worry about where it would run to after. The thought of it crawling up your leg while you did your business made you shiver and you immediately threw that idea out.

Well, what if you closed the lid? Maybe it'd fall off into the bowl and you could flush it away? But that would require putting your hand way closer to the spider than you were willing. You weren't about to risk it crawling on you. Also you had a feeling you'd need to slam the lid for that to work and you weren't thrilled about drawing attention to yourself.

You needed to find a way to kill it somehow, a feat easier said than done considering you couldn't stand the thought of getting too close to it and the fact that you really just wanted to be able to use the toilet, get ready, and get on with your day.

You looked around for something you could maybe squish it with, because as much as you wanted to avoid it you sure as hell weren't going to go ask one of the others to come kill it for you. You'd use the bathtub as a toilet before you did that. Luckily for you, you weren't nearly that desperate.

Speaking of the bathtub though, you spotted a bottle of shampoo. Considering it a good enough weapon, you snatched it up and aimed the blunt cap towards your enemy. Moving slowly, sure the spider would run if you made any sudden movements, you inch closer… closer… until smack! You finally darted your weapon forward and crushed the spider between the toilet lid and the lid of the shampoo bottle, grateful the spider also hadn't decided to make any sudden movements before getting squished. It would be very likely that you would have dropped the bottle in the toilet if it had.

You pulled the bottle away and found the spider-guts had decided to stick to the cap, leaving little more than a slight smudge on the toilet lid.

Grabbing a sheet of toilet paper you sat the bottle with it's arachnid corpse on the sink, intent to remove any evidence of your enemy's unwanted prior existence from the toilet lid before finally relieving yourself- deciding to wait until after you had done so to give the spider it's "sea burial." It might be dead, but still- no. Ew. It could wait it's turn.

After finishing your business, flushing your friend, and cleaning off the shampoo cap, you were finally able finish getting ready for the day, and thought maybe you'd reward yourself for your bravery with a muffin for breakfast.

* * *

You had just finished up eating and were about to get ready to leave when Mantis came over to you from the pantry asking if you could help her get the jar of peanut butter open.

Little did you know this would be the start of a chain of events that would significantly delay your morning plans.

For what felt like several minutes you did your best to open the jar but didn't succeed, so you handed the jar off to Drax who had just happened to walk into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Rocket filed in behind him, ignoring everyone as he made his way to the washing machine and threw something inside.

Drax got the jar opened in nothing flat, but he apparently had news for you; Groot had decided to take some juice upstairs and had spilled it in their room.

You sigh, but grab the mop as you internally begrudged Drax for not just cleaning it up himself instead of coming to tell you about it. Though, it was probably just as well- he wasn't exactly the most thorough of cleaners and you didn't want his poor mopping to leave a sticky juice residue behind.

As you filled a bucket you wondered how the tiny tree child would have managed to get a glass of juice all the way up the stairs without spilling any only to then spill it in their bedroom.

It would turn out, as you saw when you reached the stairs, he hadn't. There were little puddles of juice over nearly every step on the staircase. Enough so that you wondered how there was even any left for him to spill in his room when you finally reached the door and located the glass overturned in a puddle of juice near Rocket's bed- which was missing it's blanket. There was, however, no sign of Groot. You'd worry about that later.

For now, you had just never been more glad that you didn't have carpeting in your home- and idly wondered as you cleaned if Groot had actually managed to drink any of his juice before spilling it everywhere.

When you finally finished mopping you grabbed the first person you could find- in this case Kraglin, before tracking down Groot and having Kraglin translate that the wooden child was no longer allowed to carry liquids upstairs.

You weren't totally sure the message got across, but there wasn't a whole lot more you could do so you just had to hope the kid actually understood when he nodded in response and ran off. You awkwardly thanked Kraglin and went to return your mop to the kitchen.

It was there you encountered Rocket again, who opened the dryer and then gave you grief about having left your clothes inside.

You roll your eyes at him but say nothing as you snatch your clothes out of the dryer and move to take them upstairs. Might as well fold them now so you don't need to worry about them later when you get back from town.

Once your clothes were folded and you were putting the last of them away you think you might finally be in the clear to be heading to town when Mantis startles you by running up to you crying and holding her hand.

You almost scold her for scaring you like that when you see that she only had a paper cut, but you held your tongue and instead helped calm her down and find a plaster in the medicine cabinet.

Once you had her settled you headed to leave before anyone else could manage to stop you again, once more being startled by a spider in the hall and cursing the creature.

Soon after, Gamora came across you as you were pulling on your jacket, keys in hand. It was then you realized you hadn't bothered to tell anyone you were leaving and you thought you might do so then, but Gamora actually beat you to it.

"Are you going into town?"

"Uh, yeah actually. Did you need anything?" you asked, pulling up your jacket zipper. Silently you hoped it wasn't something else that would delay your departure even further.

"Take Peter with you."

Taken aback, you let out a surprised half-laugh and looked at her. "What?"

"I need you to take Peter with you."

You blink at her. "…Is everything ok?"

She glanced down the hall before lowering her voice. "Yes- it's just-" She frowned. "Ok, he's driving me a little crazy today."

"It's not even noon?" You raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I know," she said pointedly.

You frowned. You hadn't intended to bring a passenger with you. "Won't he ask questions? I've never exactly brought him along willingly before."

"Somehow I doubt that will be a problem. I'm fully certain he's just being annoying because he's stuck here and bored."

You open your mouth to reply just in time for Peter to step out of the bathroom. To your surprise Gamora calls out to him and tells him that he's going to be accompanying you into town.

"Cool!" Peter says, going for his jacket as you blink at Gamora, who doesn't look at all apologetic.

Defeated, you sigh and just motion Peter toward the door, throwing one last glare over your shoulder at Gamora who finally mouths "sorry" just as you close the door behind you.

The ride into town was much less annoying than you expected. Instead of deliberately trying to annoy you, Peter seemed content with just listening to the radio the whole way into town, which wasn't at all unwelcome seeing as your thoughts were on what sprays or traps you might get this time around for the spiders, and considering how you weren't exactly looking forward to discussing the situation.

Eventually you reach the shop, where you manage to park, go inside, and grab a hand basket all before Peter tried making small talk.

"So, you're quiet today."

You glanced at him in puzzlement. "I could more say the same of you. Normally you never shut up. Maybe I was enjoying the quiet."

"Rude." Peter said, giving you a quick poke to the ribs.

You jumped and glared at him with narrowed eyes, to which he only grinned and mock held his hands up in defense as you walked past him and made your way toward the aisle where you knew the pest control items would be, trying to think of anything else you might need to pick up while you were in town, which wasn't a lot since you had just recently been in.

Unable to think of anything on your own, you glanced at Peter and asked him if he knew of anything he or the others might need. You knew the answer was likely also nothing, as Fury had just come a couple days prior with a restock, but it didn't hurt to ask.

"No, I can't think of anything. Wouldn't argue against some Oreos though."

This made you huff a laugh out your nose and as that aisle was coming up first you opted to detour and grab them on the way to your actual reason for coming to the shop.

As you were leaving that aisle Peter speaks up again. "So, I noticed you seem to be a little… less grumpy lately." In a joking tone he continued, "That mean you're finally starting to like us?"

"Don't read too much into it," was your reply. "Maybe you all have just gotten less annoying after a couple months. Or I'm suffering a weird form of reverse Stockholm Syndrome."

Sure, you could have said you had a sit down with Yondu where you spilled your guts. Could have mentioned how somehow you actually felt better afterward. Could have also mentioned how you had no idea why- since all that mandatory therapy SHIELD ordered you to take couldn't even do it. But you weren't going to. Just because that one talked helped didn't mean you were ready for a repeat of that vulnerability anytime soon. Besides, the more you thought about it the more you figured it was probably a fluke or something.

"Rude," Peter joked again, rolling his eyes and poking you in the ribs once more like before and jolting you out of your thoughts.

This time your reaction was to accidentally elbow him in the side, and you glared at him with wide eyes as he laughed and rubbed the sore spot. "That's what you get, now cut that out!"

There was a slight playfulness behind the scolding that didn't go unnoticed, but Peter once again held up his hands in mock-surrender. "Ok!" He could tell you were deflecting, but he wasn't going to push it.

By now you had reached the pest control aisle, only to find it wiped out of any kind of repellents or traps that might be useful against spiders. Perhaps if you had just gotten here earlier- but no. Everyone else in this area knew as well as you did that it was spider season, so you should have anticipated this. Better yet, you should have remembered to grab some stuff before the season came- though one couldn't blame you for being distracted the last couple months. Not like you had taken in a group of dysfunctional aliens or anything…

"Damn," you mutter under your breath.

"What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing." Ok. Think. Would there be anywhere else in town that might have anything still in stock?

"Aww naw!" came a voice from behind the two of you. Upon turning to look you saw there were a couple young men maybe in their early twenties. Clearly they had come looking for spider repellents too, and like you, were disappointed to find the supplies out of stock. Before they walked off the young man who had exclaimed could be heard saying to his friend, "This was the last place in town. Thought for sure they'd still have some in stock. Tough luck for us innit?"

Well, there went that idea.

Peter looked to you and caught you frowning. "Is there something I should know?" he asked.

"It's nothing, like I said," you reply, thinking to grab some juice on your way to checkout, realizing that much of what you did have at home had found it's way onto the floor. "It's just spider season… and I thought I'd grab some supplies before I had to listen to you scream like a little kid every time you saw one." Of course you were going to leave out the part that the real reason was that you really hated spiders. "Forgot about it until too late is all," you continued. "Been a little distracted lately." You throw him a pointed look as you said the last bit, knowing that he would know what you meant by it.

Peter frowned, offended. "First off- I would not scream like a little kid." He went to poke you again for the insult as the two of you approached a self checkout, but you smacked his hand away before it could make contact. "But that does explain so much," he added watching as you quickly scanned your small shopping haul and paid.

"What do you mean?"

"Why I've seen so many spiders lately." He replied, following you out of the store. "Saw three just this morning. Big suckers too- but I suppose that makes them easier targets to squish." He chuckled. What he wasn't about to say, however, was that he had actually called Gamora to come kill each one he saw.

"Oh," you reply, walking to the car. You did not like the sound of that. There had still been a part of you hoping that you wouldn't see much more than you already had. "Yeah- they come about this time of year- when it gets colder. I'm sure they'll have some more repellent in soon," you say, hoping he didn't notice the nervousness in you as the two of you reached the car. Once inside, however, you promptly dropped your keys before you could put them in the ignition. Nice. Real smooth. You continued talking as you reached down to grab them, "-or I can look into some home remedies. It's no big deal- they're harmless." That last bit was mostly a front to make you seem indifferent.

Harmless or not, you still hated them. It made you feel weak to admit it- not that you cared what they thought or anything- but showing vulnerability wasn't something you were used to. After all, you were still recovering from your talk with Yondu, and that was days ago.

Finally grasping your fallen keys you sit back up and insert the key into the ignition, but don't turn it just yet. You look to Peter now, trying to think of any other topic to switch to. Literally anything would be better than thinking about going back home to a house full of big-ass spiders.

Or so you thought.

You open your mouth to speak, intending to just pull a topic out of thin air, and then you hear it.

Blood turns icy in your veins as the awful wail creeps into your ears, and your chest tightens so that you can barely breathe. As your mouth closes, your eyes widen. However they do not focus on anything in particular- your vision beginning to cloud with images in your mind's eye. Broken glass. Twisted metal. Sickening yellow.

Peter sees the sudden change in you and speaks up in concern. "Agent?"

You don't even hear him, ears flooded with the terrible sound that's only getting louder. Turning away from him you begin to shake, now facing forward in your seat. No. No no no no. Please- Those words swim through your thoughts as horrific memories swim through your mind. Memories of pain… darkness… loss.

"Agent?" Peter says again, more concerned now. One moment you had been fine, and then you just froze- face falling into an expression of silent horror.

By now your breath is coming in an almost silent sob and you've brought one hand up to cover your mouth.

"Hey, hey- woah," Peter says gently, utterly confused about your sudden change in behavior but wanting to provide some sort of comfort. He reaches out to you and barely grazes your arm before you jerk away from him. Actually, he could tell it was less you pulling away, and more you had startled from the contact.

Terrible screeching. So much blood. Flashing lights. Please- No no no-

You seem to draw into yourself, and before long it starts to dawn on Peter what's happening. He had been too concerned with you to notice it before, but not only was it louder now, he caught a glimpse of it speeding on the road in the distance through the car window.

An ambulance, blaring it's siren. The sound he had played over and over that one night before realizing he really shouldn't have. Before he realized that sound had a dark effect on you he'd likely never understand. The sound that caused you to go out into the woods that night, the action that resulted in you getting shot.

Shit.

He looked at you, and could see you were barely with him anymore. Your gaze was distant and your waterline was flooded with yet unshed tears.

White sheets. Red stains. Darkness. Screeching. Pain. So much pain. Broken glass. Where are they- Blood. So much…

Peter felt he should do something, but he had no idea what to do. He knew of a couple guys on Yondu's crew that had PTSD, but he was never close to them. He had never witnessed anyone having a flashback before- if that's what this was. He had no idea how to help you. He couldn't mute the outside like he could the television.

Unless…

He knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try. He reached over to the radio and hit the buttons, and turned the knobs, trying to get any other sound to drown out the siren that only seemed to be getting closer.

Unfortunately, nothing happened.

Fuck.

He looked and saw the key you had left in the ignition, and reached over to turn it, realizing that nothing in this damn vehicle must work without it. Stupid Terran caveman tech.

The lights on the dash came on. So did the radio.

Jackpot.

He quickly turned the volume knob and the music blared out, drowning out the siren. Having come on so suddenly and loudly, it also actually seemed to startle you out of whatever dark place you had gone. Not instantly, of course, but the resulting jolt managed to nudge your breathing towards a better rhythm.

You take a couple shuddery breaths as you start to come back around.

You are safe. You're in your car- but everything's fine. At least, as fine as it can be all things considered-

A blink made the tears finally escape your waterline and you quickly wiped them away, turning your face towards your window and away from Peter. You realized what happened and you wished he hadn't seen. You felt weak. In a voice that you tried to keep strong, you say, "I'm sorry."

Peter frowned. "Hey- don't do that. It's ok. You're ok." He glanced between you and the center console, and in what was probably a hasty decision, he reached across and pulled you into a very awkward hug.

Luckily for him, instead of being cross, this action, combined with the fact that "My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard-" was blaring on the radio actually made you let out a short laugh. "What- What are you doing?"

"You looked like you could use a hug, and I happened to have one ready."

You didn't know how to respond, so you just laughed again and tapped out, pointing out that the center console was digging into your ribs.

Peter released you and you each settled back into your respective seats, where you both sit in silence- aside from the radio- for a little while.

After spending that while staring at your lap, you think to turn the radio down to a more appropriate level. By now the siren was long gone. In reality it had likely only been present for a few minutes, but it felt much longer. Looking at Peter for a moment, you finally speak again. "Um, thanks. For uh, not making this any weirder than it had to be. Sorry you had to see that." 'So much for not showing vulnerability,' you thought bitterly.

Peter scoffed lightly. "Don't be sorry. Look- I know I might not understand, but I do know it's not your fault."

You returned your gaze to your lap and he speaks up again.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You let out a soft chuckle and smile sadly before meeting his gaze again. "Thanks, but I think I just want to go home now."

"Ok." He wasn't going to press it. He was just glad you hadn't had to go through that alone.

And so were you.

* * *

The ride home was mostly quiet. Peter could tell that while you might have been pulled from the bulk of that darkness with his radio trick, it wasn't a magic cure. It wasn't as if he had snapped his fingers and made you "instantly better." He knew better than that, and knew he should probably give you space.

You had made one request, however. That Peter not mention the incident to any of the others.

He agreed, and when the two of you finally returned to the house the two of you went about like nothing was wrong.

For Peter, it was easy.

For you, not so much.

After putting away the messages and grabbing something to eat you decided to go upstairs to try some breathing and meditation exercises you had learned a long time ago.

The last time you had a bad flashback like that was years ago, and you were shaken for several days afterward. Hopefully you could skip that this time -if that were even possible. You honestly thought you had gotten past the flashbacks. It's not like you still broke down like that every time you heard a siren "in the wild." Hell, you hadn't even had one that night Peter played it over and over again, so you didn't know why it happened today. Sure, you had lost it and screamed at him, but it didn't result in a flashback.

Was it stress? Sure you had more than enough to be stressed about lately... but surely none of that could make the flashbacks return, could it? You tried to remember what any of those therapists had said, but came up blank. Maybe you should have paid more attention during all that mandatory therapy... Maybe you should call- No. No you'd be fine. You don't need to be digging into old wounds. You just needed to 'mellow out' and take it easy for a bit. Everything will be fine if you just relax.

The exercises helped just enough that eventually you felt up to do something else, and you decided that something else would be to open your laptop and try searching some DIY spider repellent methods.

Unfortunately, once you got to your desk you were greeted with one of the little bastards sitting on top of your laptop before it skittered away to hide somewhere else on your desk when it noticed you.

Nope. No fecking way. You are not going to deal with this now. The last thing you needed right now was to have fecking spiders piled onto your nerves- more than they had already been that is. Not when you also were recovering from the incident in town.

But you also couldn't just leave it in your room…

Ok. Breathe. Just relax and you'll be fine.

Thinking quick you grab a cup with some pens from your desk, dump them out, and look to see if you can find where the spider had gone. Obviously your intent was to trap it under the glass, maybe leave it to suffocate. The spider however, had other plans, as the next time you saw it the fecker was bolting down the side of your desk and quickly scurried under the door and out of your room. Nearly gave you a heart attack too, but at least it had left your room.

Even though it was gone the whole event had sort of turned you off from sitting at your desk for the moment. Turning to grab your phone from the bed, you decide to do the research in the comfort of the sofa downstairs instead, but not before easing your door open to make sure the spider wasn't waiting right outside. Fortunately it was nowhere to be seen, and you made your way downstairs.

In the sitting room some of the others were watching TV, so you opted to sit in the rocking chair instead as you did your research.

The results were halfway promising, though did leave you wishing you had looked them up before you left the store. The most effective DIY it seemed was peppermint oil, of which you had none. The next best bets were citrus and white vinegar, which you luckily did technically have both, but the remedy called for "fresh squeezed lemons or citrus peels." Currently you only had a little bottle of lemon juice. Hopefully that would do, as you weren't looking forward to making your house smell like vinegar.

Just as you were getting up to to attempt the DIY repellent you saw two brown steaks cross the floor from under the couch. At first you were concerned they were more spiders, but you'd only be half right. One was a spider, the other was Groot- chasing the spider.

Speechless and restraining yourself from picking your feet up into the rocking chair, you witnessed the wooden child actually take a flying leap and land on the spider, which must have been nearly as wide as your hand. Then, in a move you could hardly comprehend, he shortly wrestles with the spider before putting the fecker in his mouth.

Groot looked up at you happily with half the spider hanging out of his mouth, it's legs kicking erratically as he chewed on it. All you could do is stare in disbelief- barely able to comprehend what you just saw with your own two eyes. He… ate it??? Alive??? How-??? The legs!? The thought made your stomach churn.

It didn't take long before Rocket came along and starting scolding Groot, telling him to spit it out, that he doesn't know where it's been.

Groot, apparently unwilling to part with his impromptu snack, attempted to make a face at Rocket (as his mouth was still overflowing with spider) and ran away from him, upon which Rocket gave chase, continuing to scold him as he did so.

You blinked and just sat there for a moment, processing what you had just seen. Eventually you finally decide to attempt that DIY spider repellent, and that you might like a drink while you did so.

According to the website, you needed the juice from half a lemon mixed with water and to put it in a spray bottle. Unfortunately, it didn't say how much water. You also weren't sure how much juice would equal 'half a lemon.' Come to think about it, you weren't even completely sure you had a spray bottle.

Well, might as well try to find one first before bothering with the rest.

So, first pouring yourself a drink from an opened whiskey bottle in the fridge, you set out to look under the sink to see if you had any empty spray bottles down there- only to witness a spider scurrying away inside the cabinet as soon as you opened the door.

You jolted right out of your skin and shut the cabinet. Nope. Not dealing with that. Looked like there probably wasn't an empty spray bottle in there anyway...

Taking a long swig from your glass you decided to check the bathroom closets instead.

The downstairs bathroom proved fruitless, as did the upstairs, so you tried to rack your brain on where else you might keep one, if you even had one. The only other logical place might be in the cellar, as you were fairly certain you wouldn't find one in the attic. Even so, you debated going down there as you had a feeling you just didn't have an empty spray bottle at all.

With a sigh and another sip of your whiskey you decide to go for a look.

There was no spray bottle to be found down there. There were, however, several spiders, most of them smaller than what you'd been seeing upstairs, nesting in the corners of each room in the cellar.

At this point you were starting to feel slightly nauseous. Today was just not being a good day. First you wake up to spiders, then you can't find any repellent in town, then 'the incident'-as you were calling it, and now everywhere you turned there just seemed to be more spiders. To make matters worse you couldn't even bring yourself to run up the stairs to get away from them, despite your instinct, in case someone heard you and got concerned- because there was no way in hell you were going to confess that you were running away from some damned spiders.

Upon returning to the kitchen you finished off your drink to calm your nerves and decided you'd try cooking dinner in an attempt to further settle yourself down. A simple task to put your mind elsewhere. You'd be fine. Just breathe, and focus on another task.

Fortunately, dinner went just fine. Spaghetti was the choice you made, along with the decision to cook dinner for the whole house, and you managed to do so without any unpleasantness. Everyone even got along without any bickering when it came time to sit down and eat as well.

After the dishes were done you thought you could try to top the day off by curling up in your room with the book you had intended to read the previous day. Try to end the day on a better note and then wake up to better day tomorrow.

As you obtained your book from the sitting room you noticed everyone else was either watching TV or playing cards at the table. This meant you'd likely have the upstairs to yourself for awhile, something you wouldn't argue against. Some peace and quiet was sure to help in your quest to 'mellow out.'

Thoughts of cozying up in your warm bed to read helped make you feel better as you opened the door to your room and walked inside. You weren't usually one to curl up under the covers unless you were going to bed, but you felt like you were probably overdue for a simple comfort like this.

Just as you were turning back your covers & preparing to snuggle-in your eye caught something by your pillow.

You tensed as you thought you recognized what looked suspiciously like a couple legs of a certain creature that you knew all too well and very much despised, but then you relaxed again. Took a breath. Tried to think rationally.

Surely it's not. It wouldn't be. You've never found one in your bed in your whole life of living in this house, you highly doubted they'd start now. Peter must have somehow gotten your fake spider back from Yondu and thought he'd play a prank. Probably hoping that if you were focused on a prank war your mind wouldn't be trapped in any bad thoughts or memories. That was the case, surely.

Denial is one hell of a drug.

You rolled your eyes as you reached down and lifted your pillow up, only to drop it just as quickly and jerk back from your bed.

Not only was the spider real- and huge- it had a (slightly smaller) mate. Surprisingly they didn't seem phased by you uncovering them, or your sudden movements. They just laid still, as if asserting dominance.

No. No no no. Not ok. You couldn't handle this. Not in your bed. Nope. Nope nope.

Barely breathing, you didn't even have a chance to clear your head enough to think of a solution before one of them moved- and then you bolted.

There was a brick in your stomach and you needed air. Heart was thundering in your chest and your footsteps were coming a bit rushed as you descended the stairs, but you didn't care. You just needed out. You didn't even bother to grab your jacket and only moments passed before you cleared the back door and the cold night air hit you in the face.

It was only then that you realized you also hadn't bothered to throw on any shoes, and you had regained enough presence of mind to be grateful that at least the ground was dry as you made your way toward the shed.

Not really having a plan as to where you were headed, you stopped and rested against the backside of the shed. The wood was cold against your back as you took some deep breaths, attempting to keep yourself quiet and tell yourself not to scream. It was all you could do to keep the tears back.

Perhaps if the incident in town hadn't already taken a massive hit to your defenses you might be better able to deal with this, see that it wasn't actually a world-ending event, but you weren't exactly in a current position to think rationally. All you knew is that you were NOT okay.

Spiders were in your bed! How could you sleep knowing spiders were in your fucking bed?! The thought of them crawling on you while you slept was too much. Visions of giant-ass house spiders crawling over your face filled your head. As irrational as the images may be, you couldn't help but see spiders trying to crawl in your mouth- your eyes- You felt sick, and your shaking now had almost nothing to do with the cold. You didn't know what to do, so you tried to take deeper, slower breaths, trying to still your rapidly beating heart. You just needed a moment to pull yourself together and then you could think. But you couldn't think- all you wanted to do was scream-

"Bit cold to be wanderin' without a jacket on, don't ya think?"

A gruff voice had spoken up out of nowhere beside you, and they really shouldn't have done that. Sure, they couldn't have known your current state, or that because of it this startle would have triggered a fight response in you. But it did, and unfortunately for them, before you could even think you were already swinging out to deck whoever it was in the face.

[somewhere-on-knowhere]

Starbula concept: The first time Nebula initiates a kiss with Peter, it's to get him to shut up about something.

They're discussing something and he ends up getting distracted and going off on a tangent about something dumb, and trying to regain his attention normally isn't working, so Nebula plants her lips on his to get him to stop talking, which stuns both of them.

She pulls back and tries to move on with the conversation like nothing happened, but she's clearly flustered and Peter obviously refuses to not address the kiss. He keeps pestering and teasing her about it until Nebula ends up trying to bullshit an excuse for why she did it and how she totally didn't want to and he just forced her hand, and she's rambling now so Peter kisses her to shut up her instead.

And then they just end up making out and both forget what they were talking about in the first place.

[whitedragoncoranth]

Rocket Likes Being Petted III

One night, many months later, Peter and Rocket were in bed together in Quill's quarters. Poor Rocket had suffered another nightmare, and base raccoon wanted to be close to new parent. After the imprinting incident had happened Rocket was the same as he always was with their enemies and the other Guardians - ill-tempered, foul-mouthed, sarcastic, barely supressing the urge to flarkin' shoot and ask stuff later - but not with Peter Quill.

When he was with Quill--it was as if a switch had been flicked. Rocket was kinder, quieter, gentler to Quill, and on mission, Rocket looked to Quill first for guidance. The little raccoon no longer called Terrans dumb--because Quill was one--and, after genuinely researching Earth, its people, and animals, Rocket had come to the conclusion that Terrans... were just like everyone else in this flarked up galaxy, just trying to get by. Rocket soaked up his new father's culture - the stories, the art, the music, oh, flarkin' hell all the music! - and made it part of him.

Now, as new Father and Son cuddled in bed (Rocket wore one of his new Father's shirts that was huge on him, making him seem younger than he actually was), Peter gently showed the modified raccoon something that took him aback and made the base raccoon in his core leap! "Procyon Lotor" Quill murmured to his son as the image of the North American Raccoon was displayed on the screen of his data pad. "That's what you are, Rocket. Yeah, you... you say you were made, but that was later. Long ago, on Terra - on Earth - you were born. Somewhere, somewhen... a Mama Raccoon birthed a litter of raccoon pups, you among them. Your home is Earth, little guy--and I'm sure something can be worked out where we can go back there, and people will respect you and leave you alone so you and I can go see it, take it all in--if that's what you want...?"

Rocket looked at the images and videos of raccoons he was seeing. Raccoons climbing trees. Raccoons playing. The sounds they made. Raccoons living as the pets of humans! Rocket had been dismayed by this at first--but then Quill had explained that, in the wild, raccoons only lived a shocking 3-4 years, and were susceptible to terrible diseases such as distemper, and rabies. Under care of a human a pet raccoon was immunized against them, and pet raccoons were. treated far better than they would ever be in the wild, and thus, lived far longer lifespans, almost twenty years!

Raccoons sleeping in human beds, safe inside built box nests, being petted 'till they purred loudly, being fed grapes and other nice foods, given huge inside or outside places to run and play in. A human who still to this day looked after a raccoon who'd been paralysed due to a disease. Humans who dedicated their lives to rescuing, caring for, and fostering understanding of these amazing animals...

Rocket looked at himself - at his ringtail, at his little hands, tried to compare the 'mask' on his face, muzzle sizes - and then, looked to Peter Quill - his new Father - with anguished eyes, an expression of pain that ran soul deep. "I... why?!" He squeaked, his voice cracking, eyes filling with tears. "Why was...? Why...? Why was I taken away?!! Why did they do this to me?! Why did they take me apart over and over again? Why ain't I a normal raccoon?! Why did they jam all this stuff into my body and make me--this way?! I never asked for this! I never asked to get made!"

Peter Quill held the little raccoon - his Son - close; Rocket felt the man's tears falling onto his headfur. When at last he replied, Quill's answer moved Rocket, staggered him, made his heart wrench. Peter Quill's answer shifted something fundamental within his core... and finally, he understood.

"It’s not your fault that you couldn’t stop them, little guy. It’s not your fault that you didn’t know how to tell anyone, after they did all those awful things to you. It's not your fault that those assholes killed your friends. It’s not your fault that you’re feeling this way. And... you don’t have to do whatever it is you think will make the pain go away. Because it’s not your fault. It never was."

Rocket's breath hitched in a sob. Hitched again, and again... and then as tears that seemed endless fell like drops of salty rain from his eyes a noise of absolute anguish escaped him. His mind awhirl with grief, anger, agony - as the awful burden he'd been carrying for years was lifted away by his father's words - Rocket Raccoon cried, and cried, and cried, and cried. For a moment, all turned to hate -

and with claws out he - ::core child/teen-raccoon reports minor threat to sire from main_ai_persona/rocket. reason=grief. basecode ai 89p13 please ack! :: basecode ai 89p13 hears ack from raccoon-core. threat to sire/sys_admin/parent acknowledged basecode ai 89p13 sudo/init function=paw-servos-lock/engage. reason=do not harm sys_admin-parent-f-f-father! do not hurt father!::

- and with closed fists he punched Peter Quill's chest over and over and over, the blows soft and ineffectual. Quill fended off the blows, gripped Rocket's arms gently, knowing it was all just venting. Soon, Rocket's anger faded, and Quill just let him cry until his voice was hoarse, murmuring soothing nothings into his ears, stroking, petting, soothing...

[platinumink]

Writer looking for artist

I’m currently working on a fan work which is supposed to continue the movie Guardians of the Galaxy 3. Lot’s of hurt/comfort, found family and taking care of each other included of course (but mostly of Rocket as the main character : ))! The notes outlining the story span 7 pages so far and I’m excited to start writing the piece. 

Now, though, I’ve seen so many amazing artworks accompanying other fics though, so I thought I could pitch the idea for a collaboration to create a sketch to go with the fic. I myself suck at drawing animals/humanoids — or just in general to be honest — and I thought to myself that asking would never hurt, which is why I’m here. : )

If you are interested in any way, please notify (DM) me. :D

[welldressedbuthelladepressed]

midnight rain by taylor is so vol.3 starmora coded, got me screaming, crying, ripping my hair out, deceased on the floor

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hey bbg 😽

so i was reading a fic for an entirely different character but i think itd be absolutely adorable for my husb- i mean OUR husband Quill

Maybe reader is like stressed (over smthn i have no idea) and the guardians tried to cheer em up but nothing worked so they brought the big guns: peter. jason. quill.

and he tries to cheer reader up with lil jokes and just the stuff he knows makes reader smile hshsjshjss all the fluff bbg 🛐

hope you can get to this soon! have a great week/end 🫶

-🪐

hii bbg!! angelface, I love it, I love it all. and im glad you corrected yourself, ‘our’, yeah you’re right😏 jk jk, when I talk to you, he’s yours, but here he’s ours🤭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

surprise visitor

Peter Quill x f!reader

— word count: 559

— warnings: none, just fluff

₊✧ masterlist + taglist

Whenever you felt stressed, it often accompanied other emotions you were unsure of. You found it difficult to cope and manage the stress, and ultimately it would lead to you shutting down. You didn't like others to know how you felt, so you preferred to keep up the facade and pretend. Lately, you've been feeling more stressed than usual, and it was starting to get you down. It made you feel silly for getting so worked up over nothing. 

The other guardians could tell something was bothering you, more specifically, Nebula. She was often highly observant of everyone around her and would notice the slightest change in others. So she pulled Mantis aside to plan ways to help and comfort you. 

Although the gesture was sweet and heartwarming, it wasn't what you needed. It wasn't what you wanted. What you wanted was Quill, but he wasn't here. He was away on a planet restoration mission with Rocket and Groot, so there was no way of seeing him right now, or so you thought. Once Mantis touched your arm, she could feel what you felt, understand you- even though you couldn't identify it yourself. She could feel how much you missed Peter, so she wanted to give you the one thing that would help, the only person that could soothe and calm you, Quill.

"I heard someone's missin' me," Pete bellows, a playful expression on his face as he enters the ship. "Someone's missin' me real bad," he smirks, pacing towards you. 

"Hi," you earnestly smile, instantly wrapping him up in a tight hug.

"Hi, honey," he says quietly, his lips brushing against your forehead as he strokes your back with his easing palms. 

"I missed you," you muffled into the crook of his neck.

"I missed you," he softly sighs, pulling away to look at you. "Mant told me," he sadly smiles, looking into your eyes. "Not feelin' too good, huh?"

You slowly shake your head, avoiding his soft green gaze.

"I'm sorry, hon," he frowns, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. "That's okay. You don't have to be okay all the time— well, it's not okay, but not not okay— you know what I mean," he chuckles, clearing his flustered haze. "You get what I'm tryna say," he grins, wrapping his big warm arms around you. 

"I know," you softly laugh into his chest, hugging him tighter as if you were afraid he'll slip through your fingers.

"You know I'm not going anywhere— you're gonna end up popping my lungs," Peter chuckles, brushing slow, comforting strokes over your back. 

"Sorry," you giggle, muffling against him before you pull away. It was the first time you really laughed since he left, and it all felt right. Felt like how it was supposed to. "When do you go back?" you ask, questioning the inevitable.

"I'm not— well, until you're feelin' better," he says, kissing your cheek. "Drax is taking my place," he adds, noticing your puzzled expression.

"What if I never feel better?" you smile, speaking playfully.

"Then I guess I'll have to stay forever," he grins, slipping his hand into yours, leading you to the back of the ship. 

"Where we going?" you ask, catching up with his long strides.

"Secret," he looks over his shoulder, a boyish grin lining his lips. "No, no, just kiddin'. Goin' up top to look at the stars and cuddle."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

quill taglist: @annielr @spacetalbot @bubblezuku@idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @queerponcho @selfryed @traiitorjoe

[messymindpalace]

Fear is the nightmare I had

you were with someone else 

you forgot about me...

[inkandpaperqwerty]

This week was not a heavy writing week, but it was a heavy posting week!

I posted Chapter 17 of Sparkling Eyes and Cigarette Burns, the Supernatural story about Sam adopting a young boy. I posted Chapter 7 of Awesome Mix Vol. 1, the Guardian of the Galaxy fic that follows Peter Quill’s life growing up with the Ravagers. I also posted a little oneshot that takes place before the beginning of my zombie apocalypse book, Cataclysm (info here), and you can find it on my Substack and wattpad.

So, like I said, heavy posting! On the writing front, I did make some progress with Through the Gate, a Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and Criminal Minds crossover I posted about on my list. It’s almost to 19,000 words, so it’s still pretty small, but it’s getting there. Penelope Garcia and Edward Elric just met, so that was fun!

I also added a little bit to my untitled Supernatural fic with Slave!Castiel. This is another story I mentioned in my list, and I know I’ve already done a Slave!Castiel fic, but in it, Castiel was very afraid and submissive. In this one, he’s vicious and angry, so I feel like it’s a different representation of the idea.

Thanks so much for reading, guys!!

[rxin3akamallory]

(So I wrote this as soon as I thought about Rocket and Lylla reuniting in Vol. 3 again. I thought, what if Magril had a similar experience? This takes place before the films, only a couple years after Magril escapes Halfworld and becomes a ravager.

Read this post for more context.

And PLEASE keep the TWs in mind before reading, ty ♡)

TW: Implied Attempted

Su!c!d3/S3lf H@rm

Hotline Numbers:

USA: 988

Canada: (833) 456-4566

Other regins

White took over Magril’s vision when she woke up. She couldn’t quite pinpoint where exactly she was, but the surrounding cages made the place feel.. familiar? But Magril’s environment wasn’t the only thing that made this situation strangely nostalgic to her. In the distance she could hear two voices laughing. One was high pitched and one was deep and gentle.

Magril: Those voices..

Before Magril could process who the voices belonged to, she could hear someone approaching from behind. She turns around, a brown female otter who was slightly taller than her and sporting two mechanical arms slowly walked her way.

Lylla: Friend… What are you doing here?

Magril: *gasp* Ly.. Lylla..?

Lylla gave Magril the same kind and warm smile she’d always have. Although, it fades when she notices the wounds that harshly ran across Magril’s arms.

Lylla: My dear friend, what’s happened?

Magril: *sniffle* I’m.. still a friend to you?

Lylla: Of course you’re my friend, Magril.

Magril: B-But, that night! I-I.. *choke* I said horrible things to you. I was so selfish! *sniffle* Why would you possibly want a friend like me?

Lylla: Selfish doesn’t always mean bad. Selfless and selfish are balanced. You were scared, that isn’t selfish. We all experience fear.

Magril: Yeah, and look where mine’s gotten you.

Lylla: Magril… Why are we here? What drove you to do this to yourself?

Magril: I couldn’t bring myself to tell you what was going on. If I had just said something… I’d be here right now instead of you.

Lylla: Magril, that’s already done. You can’t do anything to change what happened to us. But you can change what happens to you.

Magril: Why should I? There’s no reason a coward like me should stay. Why spare me? What did I do other than lead you to your graves!? You, *choke* and Floor, and Teefs, *sniffle* and Rocket…

As she named each of her friends, she realized one was missing. Rocket. The raccoon who shared a cage with Floor.

Magril: Wait.. Where’s Rocket?

Lylla’s smile returns once Magril puts two and two together.

Magril: Wait.. did he..?

Lylla’s nod was the only answer Magril needed. Relief washed over her features. Rocket survived, he’s alive and still out there.

Lylla: I know you see no reason to keep going, but you still have a purpose here. Don’t give up yet.

Lylla gently embraced Magril, who started to cry again.

Magril: *sniffle* I’m sorry, Lylla..

Lylla only shook her head in response.

Lylla: You can do it. You’re so strong, much stronger than you realize. I know you’ll make it through this. And then one day, you and Rocket can come flying with us.

Tears form in Magril’s eyes.

Magril: Into the forever and beautiful sky…

Magril suddenly feels herself falling then a split second later she finds herself in the med bay onboard the ravager ship. Kraglin and Quill were over her, tears staining their faces.

Quill: Magril? Magril!

Kraglin: Magril! Thank god!

Magril: Nrgh.. Guys..?

The two pull Magril into a hug as she was still trying to process what just happened.

Kraglin: Are you okay!? We found you bleeding!

Quill: There was a knife next to you and we thought someone attacked you!

Kraglin: And you didn’t have a pulse for around ten minutes, we were worried sick!

Magril’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach. The amount of pain she put her own brothers through broke her heart. She tightly embraced them as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Magril: *sobs* I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. *choke* I’m so sorry. *sniffle* I love you so much, I’m so sorry.

Quill: It’s okay. We love you too, Magril.

Kraglin: We’re just glad you’re okay.

♡

Here are the numbers again if you wish to seek help.

USA: 988

Canada: (833) 456-4566

Other regions

If no one has reminded you, then I will. You are loved, you are wanted, NEEDED. And most importantly, you matter. ♡

☆彡 @raccoonfallsharder | @twigglestblog | @bakaotakulife

[little-buzz]

Songs I associate the gotg crew with

Peter: Wrecking Ball

Mantis: Shooting Star

Nebula: Body

Rocket: Who Are You, Really?