[ It might've been light teasing, but Peter winces all the same, lips pressing together in a tight line.

He still aches. His head still throbs. And even with all that training Gamora's been giving him, he still practically got his ass kicked, today.

Thankfully, she speaks, distracting him from his little stumble over his insecurity hurdle, and Peter makes a face at the back of her head. ]

Okay, wow, that's—

[ welp. here it comes. ]

That's dumb.

[ here lies peter jason quill, space-prince. beloved son, captain, and galactic-level idiot. ]

I'm pretty sure breaking the arm in the first place is reminder enough, Gamora. What you're doing is torturing yourself.