#danceoffs

           PEACEFUL SLEEP, that was how it SHOULD have been. Gamora had ventured to her own room and it had seemed to be working out, up until the moment she was plagued with the thoughts of Thanos. He was following her, chasing after her and she was unable to run. It was as though time completely paused on her. His hands gripped her sides, pulling her back to the HEL she had escaped from. It wasn’t clear what else happened as she awoke in the bed, a pool of sweat around her and the small blade in her hand. She had clearly grabbed that while dreaming, her body wanting to DEFEND herself even when she was simply dreaming about a threat. 

Her heart beat faster as she glanced around her room, her mind wandering through the images she had seen. He wasn’t there, she had escaped him and now she was safe. It was fine and yet, she couldn’t find a reason to lay back down in her bed. Not alone. Gamora slid form under her covers and crept down to the other room, to Peter. She opened the door as carefully as possible before she slid into his bed. She knew it would wake him, any movement would. “I’m sorry ....I don’t want to talk about it. I had a bad dream,” it sounded so pathetic but tears fell as she shifted to cuddle against his side. “I just don’t want to be on my own, right now.” 

   he – just stares.

   okay. he’s used to some pretty weird shit happening to him on a regular basis – it’s all sort of part and parcel with the whole guarding the galaxy thing, guarding the galaxy means the wholegalaxy, which means a whole choice bundle of weird shit, and he more than has the stories to back that up – so you sort of get the idea of the standards we’re working from here. and even by those…

   this is stare-worthy.

   “no, dude.” he tips his bottle up, and takes another swig from his beer. “literally none of what you just said makes sense.”

   (which is, you know, that’s kind of rich coming from the guy who’s never made sense to anyone a day in his life, but he stands by this.)

He can’t go one day without weird things happening anymore; first, the collider. Next, he meets some guy- dressed up all cool with a bad boy flare- who claims to be the ‘guardian of the galaxy’. Where’s he heard something like this before? Rise of the Guardians? The movie with an Australian Easter Bunny? Peter tried his best to explain how the collider event went- the alternate realities, the dead blonde him, the time he tried to flirt his way out of Doc Ock’s tentacles only to realise that she probably was a lesbian. That or she wasn’t into hobo-looking spiders.

The guy needed help, from some guy who probably had an arsenal of alternate reality machine destroying weapons. It wasn’t his forte, to be talking to random...heroes? but, with what he’s got, he really didn’t have many options. This, though, was starting to get annoying, how the other nonchalantly didn’t bother to listen. He’s had his fair share of off days- benders and stress eating and all that- but he needed someone to cooperate with him. “Oh, wow. Of course- want me to say it again? Because I can do that. Or, we can go and find out if the Fisk in this dimension has a collider up his sleeve.”

Had Rocket meant to trip him up with parts from the ship that he was currently working on repairing. No. Did that stop him from enjoying that it had tripped him up. No. Rocket laughed and laughed, almost too much at the way Quill had fallen. “You.. You should have seen yourself.. awh man.. where are the others? They’ll be so pissed they missed that.”

{☆} He’s CUTE--but cute could be DANGEROUS in her profession. Gamora glances over her shoulder and sips her drink, arching a dark brow in amusement. He wasn’t the FIRST and he sure as hell wouldn’t be the LAST to hit on her in some sleazy bar. 

“Look--you’re cute, the line was FUNNY, but trust me; I’m BAD news and I’m not the GIRL for you.” She finally responds, shaking her head. 

Just because she was a KILLER for hire didn’t mean she relished in her duties. It disgusted her--but what could she do? Thanos was the only one who took her in after her parents’ MURDER. He’d done so much for her; set her up with a trainer, the best schools. 

Hell, if it wasn’t for him she didn’t think she’d be doing the THEATRE thing. 

Gamora tilts her drink at the man and shrugs her shoulders. “You could have your PICK of women here; try that line on someone else.”

   look, peter isn’t – he isn’t a stranger to these types of joints. literally far from it; he’s, you know, he’s spent the better part of his life by this point in and out of places like this, and when you’re super short on units, you’re really not exactly in a position to be picky.

   still, that doesn’t stop him from physically wrinkling his nose as he gets a good view of… whatever the hell it is that stakar’s got stacked on a couple of plates.

   ❝if you can actually call that breakfast, which i’m seriously doubting right now,❞ he mutters as he actually does, for his part, pull up a chair. ❝that doesn’t look edible for, like, any species in the history of species.❞

   he’s trying. trying very hard and he’s been trying, but there’s something about peter quill - the part that’s a lot like a certain centaurian - that just grates after a while. so yeah, maybe it’s not entirely an accident that the breakfast he chose looks completely unappetizing.