“They Can Change, They Just Need Someone Who Knows That They Can Do It.” Peter Retaliated, Straightened

Summer Road trip

AO3 fic cover (WIP)

“You don’t have to keep an eye on me, you know? I’m not a toddler.” “Yeah, but you can be a naughty kitten sometimes.” Peter retorted, hanging upside down from the ceiling of the City Hall, watching her casually return the map to its drawer “For example, when I asked you to bring a map with you, I didn’t mean the antique one inside the City Hall.” “The tourists’ one will do the job, sure,” Felicia shrugged her shoulders and leaped into his waiting arms, climbing around his body and clinging to his back by his sticky body and her arms around his neck “But where’s the drama in doing that?” a challenging smile graced her face and her fingers lightly scratching the underside of his chin while Peter retraced his web line upward. “Does everything have to be dramatic with you?” “Someone begged me to stop stealing,” Felicia emphasized the word with her finger poking his sternum from behind “I have to find some way to entertain myself, lest I get bored.” They stay quiet for a while as security patrols by, then retrace the path they took to get inside. “Entertain yourself? What about the club? I’m sure many would love to help you with that.” That comment earned him a smack to the side of his head “Ow…” “Serves you right.” Felicia poked his cheek and pushed it hard, which was barely registered by the superhuman “I’m not talking about sex,” the thought of engaging in that with anyone still put a bad taste in her mouth “I’m fine by myself in that department, trust me. I’m talking about the thrill of doing things against the clock, the possibility of getting caught, and the satisfaction of pulling it off without a trace.” “Sounds kinky,” he commented playfully, and this time evaded her hand with Spider-Sense. “Maybe doing something else would help? Have you ever tried pottery?” he led them out of the building and started swinging towards the agreed location with the others, scouting for the fake Punisher. “Me? Sitting still molding clay? What do you think?” she made for a detachment and Peter let go of his sticky power, letting Black Cat acrobats herself forward using her hook swing, rolling in the air and perfectly caught by Spider-Man to be thrown ahead, like a dance between them. She clings to his back again after a couple of sets as he runs on walls horizontally forward, gaining speed, and then leaping off the building into a swing. “I think it’s worth a try, at least.” He continued mid-swing, gaining momentum through the parabola arch “Maybe you just need to relax a little bit; without the alcohol, and the smoking.” “What are you, my boyfriend?” a smirk tugged involuntarily at the corner of her lips. “Is that a smile I hear?” Peter prodded playfully at her and felt her arms tighten around his neck “Alright, alright!”

Excerpt: Secret Invasion Part 2

- “I hate when ya’s behind the wheel.” Logan groaned as Scott ‘commandeered’ a vehicle from some locals and sped through the bridge.

- “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Scott exclaimed furiously, swerving left and right without losing his momentum “We were supposed to keep low and gather information!”

- “Cut me some slack, Scott; Creed showed up outta nowhere, what do ya think would happen?” Logan took what little opportunity he got to finish the cigar with deep inhales, filling his lungs with toxin.

- “You never won against Creed, don’t you think I know what this is about?” Scott questioned in a matter-of-fact tone, tutted with irritation. “We are on a mission, goddamnit! You are expected to follow orders!”

- “I’m not ur soldier, Summers, don’t forget it.”

- “But you are my team! And I can’t lead a team who never listens to me.”

- “Well, shit outta luck, Mister.” Logan dismissed with irritation.

.

.

.

.

- “…you guys bickered like a divorced couple,” Peter interjects after a moment of silence, uncomfortably sandwiched between three women in the back; it helps that Kitty was not that different than Gwen in body size.

- “Shut it!/Shut ya mouth!” the two in the front growled at the vigilante, while Anna-Marie and Kitty giggled.

Rose O'Hara

21st September 1861

It has been three years since I’ve visited you last, dear diary.

Three years since that horrible night.

Victor Creed came back, and he slaughtered everyone on the plantation.

The workers.

Master John.

Mistress Elizabeth.

Aunty Gilda. Martha.

Even my father, and my mother.

Mister Bert sacrificed himself to hold that daemon back while he told me and James to run away as far as we could and to not stop until we could not anymore. We did, while the scream of death shadowed us like a hellhound.

Come November will be my sixteenth winter, as well as James's.

We stay at a kind gentleman’s house near a coal mine, where James works as a foreman for the kind man.

Mister Deveraux, one of Master John’s associates, recognized James while we were scraping for changes and food in port towns along the Missouri River.

I almost had to sell my body countless times, but James always saved me from such a fate with his family’s heirlooms and whatever valuables he could get his hands on from the ignorant rich people coming and going.

On the eve of my birthday, I want to tell him how I feel.

For he’s a caring and loving man I couldn’t ask for a better replacement.

And I so want him to know that.

Silly, I even thought about buying a pair of silver bands for him and myself.

I must get to bed, dear diary, wish me luck.

…

22nd September 1861

He said he felt the same for me!

Oh, dear diary, I am so happy!

I’ve rarely seen him smile since we ran away from the plantation, I saw it again today and it was as beautiful as before.

Oh, dear diary, he’s so awkward with the kisses, so was I.

But they are the sweetest memories we will share, yet.

We are going to a dinner at Mister Deveraux’s saloon in two days.

I must buy a new dress, even though he said I would look good in a potato sack. Silly man.

Good night, dear diary.

…

28th September 1861

I hope you can see.

James bought the silver bands that I have been eyeing today, and I let him put one on my hand!

Oh, dear diary, it is lovely.

He asked Mister Deveraux to be a witness as he was proposing to me at the saloon, and his friends from the mine were there as well, cheering on us.

I felt like I was going to explode, dear diary, I don’t think I will be able to take a rest tonight as my heart is still racing.

…

1st October 1861

The wedding was lovely last night.

It was not a grand event like I’d dreamt of when I was but a silly girl, but having seen James there on the altar before me surrounded by the friends we have come to know here brought joyous tears to me all the same.

He was a kind and gentle man, despite his scary visage.

Oh, the muscles on him make me blush like a virgin maiden again just thinking about them.

His body was very warm, and perfect for the night as he gathered me into his arms, whispering sweet words to my ears.

We talked about building a family this morning, and I am touched that James wanted to name our firstborn after either his mother or my father, Elizabeth or Logan.

I feel like the luckiest woman to have been loved by this man.

…

29th October 1861

I was very busy, sorry for neglecting you again, dear diary.

I woke up this morning with an urge to empty my stomach, yet nothing came out, James quickly took me to a clinic nearby.

I am pregnant with James’s child, dear diary!

Oh, Almighty Lord in Heaven, I am happy!

The doctor told us that the incoming birth around July might prove to be difficult for a woman of my stature and age, but James promised to do anything in his power to ensure the safety of our child and me.

He talked with Mister Deveraux today and took on a job inside the shaft as well to save more money for the doctor’s fee in the future.

I am worried, of course, but James knows what he is doing.

He is a peculiarly strong man, despite the weakness in his health I witnessed in our childhood.

Now, my job is to keep little Logan or Elizabeth safe and strong, so that it can be loved by a wonderful father, of my beloved husband.

Calling him that still made me giggle like a teen, oh dear!

“Where the hell did ya get that, Kid?” his gravel and whispery voice roused her up like a good electrical shock as she instinctively threw the journal away in a poor attempt to hide it.

“In the closet.” Laura curtly replied, hiding her eyes from the smoldering gaze of her DNA donor.

“You and your bullshitting,” Logan finally breathed out with a chuckle as he casually approached the journal and picked it up, a nostalgic hue clouding his eyes a moment as he opened the first few pages with a sad smile. “Nosy little weasel, aren’t ya?” Logan commented lightheartedly while stashing the journal into the pocket of his leather jacket before making a way toward the door “Dinner’s almost done, get down there and eat.”

“You are not my dad.”

“Jean says otherwise,” the burly man shrugged his shoulders and was about to pass the threshold.

“What happened?”

“Hmm?”

“After the end of October, if you’re gonna take that journal away, you might as well spoil the rest for me.” The girl got up from the bed and approached him with those determined eyes, crossing her arms with a little lift of her demanding eyebrows “It’s not like the sappy love story is interesting or—"

“Creed.” Logan simply replied with a single word, spoken with an immeasurable amount of hatred seething inside his chest. And then he disappeared from the second floor, heading down the stairs.

It's too hot lately, right?

Getting the groove.

Fallen Friend

Cover Art #3(?)

JEAN GREY

What do you think?