"I can, yes, but punching a bag does have a tendency to cut into my attention, so…" Steve shrugged and let his words trail off, giving a small smile to Peter. "Okay, so what did you need to talk to me about?"
"Well, my friend’s birthday is coming and he’s a big fan of yours, so I was wondering if you could sign this card?" Peter pulled out a patriotically themed birthday card and a pen, offering them to the super soldier. "Could you make it out to ‘Flash’?"
"Don’t think it would’ve looked that good either!"
The blonde raised an eyebrow. “I had my suspicions but wasn’t really sure about that!” She glanced around as if trying to spot something. “So is the tracker or whatever it is in my blood stream or does he have men in black suits tail me around.” She pouted. “Hey! I was a kid when I called him that and I don’t anymore ok?! And how’d you even know about that!?”
"Nothing nefarious like that, I think he just tracks your phones."
"He has a tendency to get ‘share-y’ sometimes. That’s not even the worst of it. I know things I would be much happier not knowing because of him."
Peter/Mary Jane Percy Jackson AU
The attack came from his periphery, Peter managing to dodge the swipe of the sword with inhuman speed, only to slam into the side of a tree and fall flat on his back, “Ow.”
"You know, for a son of Hermes you’re not very graceful," Said the most beautiful girl that Peter had ever seen.
She reached down, offering her hand to him, “Mary Jane Watson, daughter of Aphrodite.”
1) Give me a pairing.
2) Give me an AU setting.
3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.
"Yea, but otherwise I wouldn’t end up with this great video, bro. Hmm—who am I going to send it to today?”
"I think I preferred it when you were trying to kill me."
"Some asshole slipped into this girl’s drink. Now, I know that you wouldn’t want her in danger so I gave the beer to you and took care of the asshole.”
"I understand that superheroing is new to you and all, but you do realize no one had to drink the beer, right?!”
"I can’t take you anywhere."
Taryn seemed to be running into this a lot: people who wanted to help just because they wanted to help. It was strange, and the earthmover couldn’t quite understand it. She didn’t know if she’d risk herself to help people if she didn’t feel incredible guilt over her mistakes in the past. “I suppose not…” she answered slowly, not taking it as a rhetorical question.
She frowned. Spider-Man’s proposed plan did not seem like an entirely good situations. “Protective custody sounds like arrest,” she pointed out, taking one step away from him. If he was going to try to arrest her, she’d have to be quick. But he was obviously quicker. She’d have to use her powers. But that would blow her cover. Damn it. And she didn’t want her parents to be punished. She still loved them. She just wanted them to stop coming after her.
That being said, even though he moved towards her, she didn’t let him get close enough to touch her.
Seeing the sudden change in temperament, Peter held his hands up in a placating gesture, “Hey, now, ‘sounds like’ doesn’t mean ‘is’. Protective custody would, in this case, means you get to lounge around in a narcissistic billionaire’s high-tech super tower, eat his food, and watch Netflix while I go swinging around town fighting the bad guys, investigating clues, interrogating thugs, and generally getting myself into trouble as I solve this problem of yours.”
He placed a hand to his chest, index finger drawing an invisible X over where his heart was, “No one’s going to arrest you. Cross my heart. Spider’s honor. I swear it on.. uh..” The webhead raised his right hand, looking as though he was being sworn into office, “In happy days or tightest tights, here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor, we are part of the Rhythm Nation with music on our side, in the city, the country, the forest or the boonies, I am proudly declared a fellow Goonie, with liberty and justice for all.”