GHOST SPIDER

   PAUSE ; A GLANCE AT HIM. SOMETIMES, EVEN SHE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND HIS MILLENNIAL JARGON. Should she be expressing concern for him? Questioning the absurdity of his words? ( both, she decides, && maybe one would yield the right answer. ) “I didn’t know you thought that nuggets were fuckable.” ( OR she could make a joke about it. damnit gwen, what happened to using nice words? ) 

   She bites her bottom lip, holding back a grin, but turning fully to pay closer attention to her partner-in-justice ( && definitely not crime ). “You okay?” He looked injury free at least, but who knows what could have happened to him while her back was turned...

   FACT OF LIFE: GWEN HAS TO PRACTICE HER QUIPS IN FRONT OF A MIRROR MOST DAYS. She’s not great at thinking them up on the fly, doesn’t have the natural charisma of Spider-Man(s). ( damnit, she’s trying. ) SOME-DAYS, however, her puns get worse than normal. Exhibit A: being exposed to the marvel that is Storm of the Fantastic Four. Not the kind of group that she would normally rub shoulders against, but--let it be known that having the ability to jump universes led to strange occurrences. 

   She’s trying to not let her wonderment affect her voice too strongly, but she knows for a fact that Peter has imprinted enough awe into her of the sciences ( even if she couldn’t science to save her life ). The dumb words && puns pass from her lips, endlessly, breathlessly, as she watches the Fantastic Four hero work. “Like, I know you must be told you’re hot a lot.” ( why can’t she stop talking? ) Her lips are mumbling, SHE KNOWS, but she’s? Amazed? && hoping to god above that Storm wouldn’t hear her. Even if some people were just smart, && deserved to be complimented for that too. “But you’re bright? And your brains? Are out of this world.” 

   SHE SHOULD NOT BE POKING INTO ANOTHER GWEN’S LIFE LIKE THIS. Mess with time && space && the way the timeline proceeded; she’d heard the entire lecture. ( no t-shirt souvenir, though. ) But it’s just so interesting, because Gwen wasn’t Gwen, && it was way too fun trying to find all the ways that made the other Gwen TICK. “I hear dating’s a great way of meeting new people and relaxing.” Casual, don’t push too hard. “Ever thought about it?”

   If she knew herself ( && let’s be real, sometimes she DIDN’T ), the words ‘meeting new people’ && ‘relaxing’ only existed in dreams. Maybe.

✨ repost, don’t reblog !

1 ) WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE ?  like freshly washed clothes, the scent of flowery fabric conditioner sticking to her skin. like honey, milk, && black tea, for how much she drinks it to stop herself from downing energy drinks. like the lightest scent of bamboo shampoo, the cheapest alternative to scentless hair products she could feasibly afford.

2 ) HOW OFTEN DOES YOUR MUSE BATHE / SHOWER ?  ANY HABITS ?  daily as best, especially with how much sweat && dirt && dust can accumulate under the suit. it’s easier to wash off blood in the shower, after all!

3 ) DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY TATTOOS OR PIERCINGS ?  the thought of having something extremely recognizable on her body that could be revealed with one, false movement && reveal of her skin... not a good idea.

4 ) ANY BODY MOVEMENT QUIRKS ( EX : LEG SHAKING ) ?  likes to whip her hair back && forth while out of the suit---she’s too used to not having the distraction of her hair while wearing the mask. the feeling of hair out of suit? just weird ( short hair helps though ).

5 ) WHAT DO THEY SLEEP IN ?  old shirts && boxer shorts.

6 ) WHAT’S THEIR FAVORITE PIECE OF CLOTHING ? the sneakers she carefully considered && splurged on.

7 ) WHAT DO THEY DO WHEN THEY WAKE UP ?  immediately turn over to curl up on one of the numerous pillows or blankets she has stacked on her bed.

8 ) HOW DO THEY SLEEP ?  POSITION ? light sleeper, depending on whether her spider-senses && enhancements will let her sleep well. she doesn’t sleep in one set position!

9 ) WHAT DO THEIR HANDS FEEL LIKE ?  soft as a baby’s bottom. those lowkey regenerative powers have a use sometimes, apparently.

10 ) IF YOU KISSED THEM, WHAT WOULD THEY USUALLY TASTE LIKE ? like the honey she puts in all her drinks. like the spices miles uses to cook their food. like the minty fresh toothpaste that she accidentally bought && now has to use up. the the range of bubblegum she chews on while on patrol, to soften impacts on her teeth.

✨ TAGGED BY:  stole it from @scarletwebs !!

   SOMETIMES, SHE JUST WANTS TO WALK THE STREETS OF A NEW YORK IN A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE. Soak in the world, the noise, the way that every NYC seems to be just as busy as the last. It’s a constant variable that barely changes across the many dimensions, its loud talkers && numerous coffee chains. ( issue number one && most importantly; most of the time... gwen stacy is a dead woman walking. that’s why it’s easier to keep the mask on, no matter how conspicuous it was. ) At least this once, she wants to be another nameless person, walking the streets, living the life under the lights && noise.

   With her luck though, && her distraction, the collision between her && another passerby is only barely averted. “Oh! Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was heading...” The light is almost too bright for her to see the other person’s face, but it seems... FAMILIAR. “Sorry about that!”

   ( DO NOT MAKE A BADLY TIMED COMMENT TO SPIDER-MAN ABOUT MURDER. DO NOT, GWEN, PLEASE. ) Too many news outlets recycled the old footage of the villain Mysterio’s supposed death. The articles accusing Spider-Man of committing the deed reminded her too much of her own struggles. She follows the call of her spider-senses, tugged in the direction of an ill-placed apartment rooftop... && waits. 

   Luck rolls her dice, && she sees him swinging by, senses twinging as they do in the presence of another Spider-Person. “So, they framed you for murder too?” her lips murmur, staring up at his form, eyes wondering && understanding all at once. ( or not. make the comment, scare the poor kid. self-control? don’t know her. ) 

   WE BE SO SMITTEN ; IT’S CRAZY. I CAN’T HAVE WHAT I WANT... BUT NEITHER CAN YOU. 

   SHE DOESN’T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THIS. DOESN’T FEEL LIKE SITTING HERE, LISTENING, SMOTHERING HERSELF. But as much as she doesn’t, she wants more than anything to support him. To see him happier, smiling, enjoying life as it should have been; to the fullest, && without being held up. She knows her smile isn’t luminous, glowing or teasing as much as it could be, but SHE HAS LIMITS. Pushing herself to the line, the edge, && trying desperately already to not fall. ( no matter what, she cannot ruin this for him. she cannot. he deserves to be HAPPY. )

   “I mean. It’s a really weird first date.” Tell it like it is, try to keep the pain from her voice. She keeps her features shadowed by her hair, wishing for the nth time for her mask. “...but it sounds like she’d love it. You should do it.” Sure enough, he’ll enjoy it. Sure enough, she’ll have to sit through && listen to the aftermath, hear how much fun he had, how perfect this girl is. ( or maybe she’s exaggerating. maybe that won’t happen. but her mind cannot help but think, maybe this time he’ll find his forever girl, && he’ll be lost to her forever. )

   “...should you be leaving soon? To, you know. Prepare.” Forget the way her heart beats too loudly. FORGET.

   J JONAH JAMESON WAS A CONSTANT BLESSING ; SHE WOULDN’T TRADE THAT MAN FOR THE WORLD. Of all the people she had met across the universes, JJJ had never changed. ( she was pretty sure she had already told him about her ‘identity’ anyways ... ) She sends him a blurry photo anyways, because why not.

   SOMETIMES, MOROSE FEELINGS HIT && HIT HARD. Especially when she has too much free time on her hands. Being forced to rest by her superiors just gave her free time to spend with one of the few people she trusted beneath the plate. Gives her time to talk about all the things they could change, all the things they would want. Maybe freedom, to breathe fresh hair. Maybe freedom, to feel the breeze, the clean air, the sun. Maybe freedom, to not have to worry about what tomorrow would bring. They cannot complain for too long, && most definitely not too loudly ( who knows who would be listening ). 

   “We could just leave,” she says, but she already knows she’s lying. Her lips twist into something pained, something filled with an entire history of struggles && knowing that neither of them were the type to give up. Perseverance ran too strong, too dominant in their DNA; it would take fire && blood && everything the world could throw at them for them to leave behind what they knew. BUT SHE COULD WISH. Wish, that she could take her father ( who works too hard, who bleeds too much, all for an enterprise that cared at least zero percent ) away from the chaos. Wish she could help Peter, whose mind shines so much brighter than them. Wish she could see the sky, from the shadows of the slum && just---

   “Ugh.” She feels dirty. Thinking too hard on all the things she has no control over does that to a person. “I don’t know if I’ve been taking too many missions, but... I just can’t stop thinking about everything Peter.” Fist tucked under her chin, resting upon it as she watches him work, marveling for the nth time at the dexterity of his fingers && the ingenuity of his mind. “How do you even deal?” The Slum was a mess, && all the information she had learned from her work told her that the Planet wasn’t doing any better. Try as she might, she couldn’t help but wish again: for something that could occupy her thoughts as much as engineering && reverse engineering could for Peter.

   “I wish you’d come to the Upper Plates. It’s not safe, but... I dunno.”