Can I have a shipping thing please? uhh, I'm 170cm, with a brown pixie cut and sort of an chubby androgynous look. I am sorta apathetic towards things, but sometimes I can get over emotional. I have misophonia,, so I get angry very quickly. (and it can make it hard to sleep around others unless there is some white noise) My biggest fear is the dark and currently I'm studying medicine! I can be really loud and outspoken but I do enjoy calmly sitting around and chilling or doing riddles too,,
Sorry for the wait! I keep relapsing into sickness. Thanks for participating and I hope you enjoy!
You were abducted from Earth for someone else’s laugh at your expense. You were abandoned in a star system you didn’t even know existed when the joke wore off. Unable to adjust, make a living, or even communicate with the other living beings on the planet you’d been dropped on, you had to fight to survive. A few fights in, you were arrested and, when they found that you weren’t one of them, they locked you up where they locked up anyone they’d rather forget than deal with. The fights decreased in size and number, but increased in fatality.
It was in this prison, after another fight, that Rocket found you.
“Hey, dude. My friend here, he’s…” He trailed off when you shot a glare made entirely of aggression and not at all of comprehension. “Aw, flark.”
You watched him scavenge for parts and makeshift tools and tinker for a few minutes, giving you time to calm down. The result was a janky translator, which you put to your ear with reluctance and caution.
“We’re about ready t’go, but, the guards… y’see…” he turned his back to you, showing inflamed and torn skin and protruding wire and metal, distorting and irritating the skin each time the creature moved a muscle. “I’d ask my friend to do it, but…” he waved a clawed hand at his ‘friend,’ who appeared to be a tree with a head and legs, “it’s gonna be a while before his arms grow back. Do you have any idea of how to push this implant back in place? S’murder stickin’ out like that.”
Earth medicine was one thing, a far cry from the guesswork you performed, trying almost blindly to find the correct position for machinery you’d never encountered, before. He hissed and writhed as you worked, but, even through his pain and cursing, told you to keep going because you don’t have much time, damn it!
A satisfying clicking sound, along with a reassuring snap into position lead you to believe you’d done it. His limbs spasmed, stiffened, and he collapsed, before rising, again.
“I think that about did it, thanks. Groot get ready to-” he paused, staring at the tree’s shoulders, “errr, just follow me.”
He checked to see if you were following. You weren’t.
“You’re coming, too, right? That’s why you started fighting those a-holes?”
In fact, that was not why, but you’d take what you could get.
- Rocket finds it easy to deal with your apathy. Your emotions, on the other hand, he blames them on the fact that you’re Terran, choosing to ignore the fact that he can get just as over-emotional.
- He’s never insulted your intelligence. Groot is the first to point this out and Rocket explains that it’s because you’re smart. “Y/N’s, at least, not as dumb as the rest of the d’ast galaxy.”
Falling for you:
- On the nights where you can’t control the sounds in your environment (usually, when you’re locked up), he stays up with you. He makes sure to make up some excuse as to why he’s doing so.
- Rocket quickly learns what irritates or triggers you and, upon joining the Guardians of the Galaxy, finds his own, threatening way of communicating to the others when they needed to stop or change what they are doing.
- He tries to convince you that medicine is a very similar practice to machinery. In reality, he just wants to show off his skill to you and, maybe, you could learn from him and the two of you could build stuff together.
- Once, you had it in your head that you didn’t belong with the guardians and started packing your things. Rocket didn’t act dramatic, he simply grabbed Groot and asked “Where to?” You stayed when you realized that this was a constructive environment for Rocket and Groot and, therefore, probably good for you, too.
- Rocket is the first to initiate touch. He puts a hand on yours on the nights where neither of you can sleep. He stands on your lap whenever he feels like it when you’re sitting. And he steadies himself against you when Quill “drives like a maniac.”
- It messes with his head when you display calmness or show contentment at just hanging out amicably with him. He doesn’t know how to be more than a friend to you, nor does he know if that’s something you’re interested in. He feels better on the days he catches you staring at him and his desire to flirt with you prompts him to grin, teeth showing, at you, sometimes even throwing in a wink for good measure.
- He, often, talks about blowing up moons, with you. You have yet to accept an offer to blow up a moon.
It’s not until after Quill and Gamora start going out that he builds the resolve to ask you out because if those idiots could figure it out, then he sure as hell could. He spent a day confusing you by switching between being uncharacteristically thoughtful of your wants and needs to pretending like he didn’t even notice when you were around.
The moment you were alone with him, he pulled out his gun and fidgeted with it, looking like he was trying to modify it, but, you knew enough about his gadgetry by now to realize that he wasn’t really making any changes.
“Hey, uh… I thought it’d be fun if we went on a date,” he told you. He shrugged as he said it and never once looked up from his work, even as you stared. It was a big deal, to you, but he offered it as if offering to let you borrow a tool.
“Sure,” you said, deciding to only display as much excitement as he did.
You could have murdered him for the way he shrugged off your acceptance, but, he turned away from you just as you noticed a goofy smile cross his features. You moved to see for yourself.
“What?” he demanded, still trying to hide his face from you, still pretending to be more engaged with his unchanged weapon.
“Is that a smile?” you ask, getting closer.
“Shaddup - stop.”
But, it was a smile - a big, stupid smile - and you kissed his cheek for it and found it surprisingly warm, like he was blushing under that fur.