#spider-queue

1: When did your muse lose their virginity?

Answered, when he and Gwen reunited.

4: Who are your muse's closest friends?

Answered; Tony, Steve, Leo, Lily, Jess, and Kate.

7. If your muse had the opportunity to turn into the opposite sex for a day, would they take it? If so, what would they do?

He would. He’d first try experimenting, to find out if a couple things were as hard as he’d heard them described, and then he’d go see a chick flick by himself. Peter secretly likes a few, but he’s embarrassed by it, and as a girl he’d be able to do the ‘treat yoself’ day that he’s kinda wanted for a while.

13. What is your muse's saddest memory from their childhood?

🚗 - for our muses’ car to break down in a blizzard

The worst had happened – again. There was a new horde attacking the city, one that they still didn’t have any details on, and Peter got taken out of the game early. His webbing was useless against the monsters, as was his ability to fight in close quarters. Even worse, he had gotten severely injured just as he found out that his webbing wouldn’t do a thing, and so to keep him out of the fight while he healed, Tony had given him a task:

Take Ginny – and Sarah – and go to a safe house in a completely different state. Wait there until Tony could call with more information.

Peter didn’t like the idea of being sidelined so long, but the options were that or do nothing, and of the two, Peter preferred the one where he made sure a close friend and her newborn were safe. They got the baby seat in Peter’s car, loaded it up with food and drinks and snacks, enough to last a few weeks, and then loaded themselves into his car.

By some miracle, they managed to get through the blockade of cars on the bridge (and by ‘some miracle’, Peter meant JARVIS), and then managed to avoid the cities. The traffic was clear, and the two adults made small talk as Peter drove, trying to keep their minds off the mess behind them.

They started running into problems after they hit the 6-hour mark. They’d stopped for walking, diaper breaks, and additional food a few times, but the weather was starting to get bad. A storm was blowing in, and everything was closing earlier because of it. Peter noticed he needed gas, and tried to roll into a gas station, just to find the power was gone, and the store closed.

“Maybe the next one,” Peter said, shrugging.

The next one’s power was gone too.

“We’ll find something,” he tried to assure himself.

“Of course we will,” Ginny responded, squeezing him lightly on the forearm.

But something never came. Peter found himself running out of gas and options on a country road, a mile from the nearest town as the car came to a stop.

“Shit,” he muttered, and then slammed his head on the steering wheel. “Ginny, I’m so, so sorry. I should have stopped at that last motel.”

“I think you made the right call on that,” Ginny said. “It didn’t look all that structurally… sound. And I can survive for a night.” She looked at the backseat, where her daughter was napping – for the moment. “But the car’s gonna get too cold for her soon.”

“There are additional blankets in the trunk. One of my uncle’s rules – he always kept at least one, in case I got cold in the backseat in the winter. I have two back there. ”

Ginny looked relieved.

“If you go get them, I can make it work.”

“How?”

“Magic.”

Peter didn’t question it, or why two blankets were enough to keep them – and baby Sarah – warm through the night. He fell asleep in the car, watching the snow fall, and woke up the next morning to a clear sky.

Ginny’s additions to the blankets (Peter carefully didn’t ask) had kept all three of them warm during the night, but he knew they couldn’t stay where they were. Peter carefully placed the excess food near her, and then put his blanket to cover her and the babe. 

“Gin?”

“Hmm?” She was still half asleep, and Peter knew how rare sleep with a newborn was. He didn’t want to wake her.

“I’m going for more gas and food, perhaps to get a tow.”

“You do that.”

He then opened the door, forcing the snow away, and started the trudge back to civilization. He had to protect them. Peter wanted to get back in the car, where there were blankets, but he knew they needed to get out of there.

Peter knew that the war was the only way that he was going to climb out of the poverty he was in. Orphaned, alone in the city, and without even so much as an inheritance to his name, the only way he was ever going to be able to take care of himself was if he fought.

And so fight he did.

He’d found himself a position in the army that was of some consequence. Peter had discovered a better way to make saltpetre -- to make it keep longer and work better, so they could use less -- and that discovery had led to a quick promotion from third assistant to the Quartermaster to the General’s ‘pet scientist’.

When he got home tonight, he was going to have to burn a candle to keep working on the latest thing he was working on -- a way of refining the water around the camps faster than just boiling it. Boiling water took time and firewood, and often the army had neither to spare.

Tonight, though, he had been dragged to a high-society party in the City. Peter knew neither what to do or what to wear, so he put on his best uniform and hoped for the best. He stood to the side with some of the other soldiers, rolling his eyes at Burr and Hamilton’s antics, and quietly sipped a glass of something strong.

Peter was sitting out in the hall in front of the principal’s office, scuffing the linoleum with the edge of his shoes. His backpack was with him, and he was confused and sad enough to not be reading the issue of Popular Science that was tucked into his bag, between a notebook full of scrawled images of robots he wanted to build and a pencil case that could survive a tank rolling over it.

He didn’t understand it. Flash had been being mean, and the girls had been crying. Wasn’t he supposed to stick up for people who were crying?

The mean teacher, the one who didn’t like him, had told him that what he’d done had been very wrong, and that he needed to apologize to Flash for starting the fight. But Peter hadn’t started it, not really, and when he’d tried to tell tell the man that, Peter had gotten sent straight to the office for fighting and ‘lying’. The office lady had given him a baggy of ice before telling him to wait outside, and had said she was going to call his daddy to come pick him up.

That had been -- what, 45 minutes ago? That’s what Peter’s watch said. He could keep sitting here, but the ice had melted and he didn’t feel like sitting there much longer. He quietly hopped off the chair and wandered over to the library.

"They said the Enterprise was fit to be carted off for garbage!”

Peter was only an ensign in Engineering. He didn’t have rank and he didn’t have experience; the Enterprise was the first time he’d ever been off-planet. He did the grunt work in Engineering, taking data and repairing coils and doing the stuff that always left him with a smear of oil on his cheek, and during the experience, he’d fallen in love with the ship.

So when someone had said it was only worthy of being carted off as garbage, he’d gone in swinging, just like the Head of Engineering had.

The problem was, though, that the older man was much better in a fistfight than Peter was. Peter had finally grown into his father’s height, 5′11″, but he had only a small amount of the muscle that normally came with that height -- and that muscle was a very recent development, from lifting cables and casings all day.

As a result, Peter was sitting in Sickbay with a busted lip and a black eye.

After everything that happened the night the world lost Gwen Stacy, Peter knew he needed a change of environment. He needed a chance to heal, and quite frankly, he saw her every time he opened a textbook or stepped on campus. They’d studied together so much that his notebooks were covered in her words; there were memos written to him to do certain things on most pages.

So he’d boxed all that up and gotten a job at a diner that he’d never been to before.

He’d gotten into the rhythm of things quickly. Peter had never cooked all that much before, so he was hired on as a dishwasher, constantly making sure that the diner had enough cups and plates and utensils. He mostly kept to himself the first few nights, focusing on learning his job, and played music to distract himself.