i aim to misbehave

hi i’m not dead but my muse has pretty much been the past few weeks, and also life got busy and i got distracted by a number of things etc etc

i owe way too many threads by now and i’ll be realistic: i’m not going to be able to reply to each and every one of them (as much as i want to), especially since now that some have been delayed too long and i don’t even know if i’ll get a reply in return. it’s totally my fault for being away for too long and losing my muse in the process.

He figured that it was too late to try and hide anything anyway and placed his hands on his hips.

▲       Tapping her fingers against the opposite hand, she rolled her eyes as he began counting, just waiting to be proven wrong. Widening her eyes on his queue, she turned her figure to see what the real threat was noticing someone enter from the distance.

❝ Okay, yep, things just got real. ❞

She admitted, turning to face him, with a defeated smile. She hated being wrong and he’d just proven her right. She grabbed a hold of the pistol which was clipped against her side, holding it into position as she watched the approaching footsteps. 

"Oooh lady--"

The other Badoon soldiers had seen their fallen comrade's body crumple onto the ground and were now venting their rage in the form of enraged shrieks and curses in Badoon that he was glad she couldn't understand. 

        He couldn't deny that his throat had gotten just a touch dry, but after clearing his throat, he decided that he couldn't let her win this--whatever this was.

        Peter pulled his shirt over his head and worked on removing his pants before the top had hit the ground. And then he was standing in nothing but his boxers--and immediately regretting it when a wisp of chilly winter air brushed against his skin.

"We do have pizza in space but... it's just not the same, y'know? After a while you start wishing that it's real pepperoni and not some synthetic, freeze-dried plastic substitute." He cocked a curious eyebrow. "What's it like, Cap--being... y'know, Captain America back in the day? I mean, my grandpa told me stories and showed me all the comics he collected as a kid but--" Peter broke into a wistful smile. "Boy, Gramps woulda loved this--meeting Captain America. But I don't even know if he's..." He trailed off, his throat suddenly growing heavy. ... if he's even alive, he finished silently. Yondu was right, and yet he wasn't--Peter loved his homeworld more than anything else in the world, talked about it at every opportunity--but he hadn't even been back to visit, not even when he'd had his own spaceship and basically had free rein to fly to any corner of the galaxy he wanted. And yet...