If we’re gonna be friends, we gotta establish some ground rules.
i. My main portrayal of Peter Parker is based off of Marc Webb's The Amazing Spider-Man. I don’t have expert knowledge of the comics and I won’t pretend that I do. (Reading them right now as we speak though).
ii. This is a private blog, meaning I will only RP with mutuals. Even then, I am very selective - please don't take it personally. I usually only follow back people that I can foresee having a future interaction with.
iii. Paras, novellas, one-liners: you name it, I can probably do it.
iv. I love to ship (like, alot), but I will never force a ship on you. Likewise, please don't force a ship on me. Chemistry & build-up is key!
v. I don't do smut/nsfw. If anything, I will probably fade to black if it comes up.
vi. This blog is OC/AU/Multi-verse friendly!
vii. I am prone to winging it and random plotlines. If you want to start plotting, don't be afraid to approach me about it!
viii. I'm terribly disorganized so slow or lost replies are going to happen eventually. Sorry 'bout that, just bare with me!
ix. That being said, I also reserve the right to drop a thread if I feel that it has run its course, but don't be shy to start plotting up new ideas with me!
x. I track #amazingarachnid, my askbox is always open, and my skype is available upon request. Don't hesitate to come talk to me about plots/ideas/whatever!
ABOUT
Name: Peter Benjamin Parker
Aliases: Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, Spidey, Webhead, Webslinger, Wallcrawler.
Age: 20-years-old.
Gender: Male.
Height: 5'10" | 177cm
Weight: 167 lbs | 75kg
Occupation: Freelance photographer for the Daily Bugle
Education: Biophysics major at Empire State University
Powers: Superhuman strength, agility, reflexes, durability; spider-sense, ability to cling to most surface.
Equipment: Artificially-created web-shooters with special adhesive properties.
Interpretation
These are my goals for portraying my main-verse, MCU!Peter as humanly canon as possible. For this, I have drawn from various sources including both the TASM movies; comments from Marc Webb, Stan Lee and Andrew Garfield; as well as elements from the 616 comics and my own interpretation of Peter Parker.
bent, not broken
Peter Parker’s life is shrouded in equal parts secrecy and tragedy. The mysterious circumstances of his parents’ deaths left him a lonely childhood laced with anxiety and hardship. However, no amount of isolation could extinguish the compassion, wit and intelligence he carries with him throughout his life. His ability to crack a joke in the face of danger says a lot about himself as a person—playfulness is in his nature.
His years of being a social outcast result in his individualistic, loner style. He seeks friendship and affection, but is painfully shy when it comes to actual human contact. As someone who spent a majority of his life being bullied and feeling rejected, he yearns to find his place in the world. Any attempt to interact outside his comfort zone would be tentative at best, but fueled by a hidden desire to feel accepted.
with great power
Upon gaining his powers, Peter was finally living the dream of being stronger; being free from the human limitations he was born into. But when he subsequently loses his beloved uncle, it instills an indomitable sense of justice in him. Peter finds the courage to use his powers for good, and that speaks volumes on the kind of person he is: when the world has taken everything away from him, he still chooses to believe in good and fights for it, even if there is a cost. Above all else, he wants to do right by the world, and he is constantly reminding himself that doing the right thing is worth all the blood, tears and heartache.
When he puts on the mask and takes on the persona of Spider-Man, Peter lets his playful nature take over. He is no longer the achingly awkward, nerdy student; he is the quippy web-slinging vigilante protecting New York City. The mask lets out his lighthearted, lovable personality that has been dormant for so long. Spider-Man gives him the strength to express this more actively without the mask on in his everyday life.
haunted
Despite all his strength, his greatest fear is being incapable of protecting those he loves. He cannot bear the thought of losing someone else, and the deaths of those he could not save will be something he has to cope with time and time again. He carries that burden with him everywhere he walks. New York City is a huge area, and Peter knows that there will be times when people call for help and he will not be around. He constantly dreads the idea that someone more powerful than he can imagine will come to take away everything he has left: and he will be cast back into unbearable solitude once again. This is one of his greatest motivating factors, so that this does not ever happen to him or anyone else ever again.
reckless, wild youth
Above all else, Peter is young, and always growing. He continues to change and shift, constantly coming to terms with his past and working for a brighter, safer future. So this is my baseline, the starting point for both him and I, where I hope to help Peter flourish in all of his masks: the hero, the everyday man, the muse, but always as a person.
Peter Parker and Spider-Man are one and the same.
Canon!verse. Peter Parker is a graduate of Midtown High and now attending ESU. Freelance photographer for the Daily Bugle by day, full-time web-slinging vigilante by night.
AU!verse. Still attending Midtown High. Still living in Queens next-door to a loveable redhead. Still best friends with a multi-million dollar heir. Still second best in his class. Still trying to figure out how this "hero" thing works. Any speculative events on Peter's future, as well as any alternative realities to the canon are also placed in this verse.
Avenger!verse. After being contacted by S.H.I.E.L.D, he's now the newest member of the Avengers, working on a provisional basis. Job description include team-ups, stopping extra-terrestial invasions, and buying groceries.
sometimes, just sometimes, she wishes she didn’t know him so well. it would be so much easier to accept the careful composure he’s crafted, all easy smiles& big brown doe eyes. life would be made SIMPLER, less complicated.
(gwen’s not really a fan of complicated.)
but this is PETER PARKER and no matter what, she cannot help but examine him, study the line of his mouth and the curve of his jaw. she can only continue to inspect the way brunette crown blends into tousled strands that curl over his ears — the way it does when he NEEDS a haircut, or he’s forgotten what a comb is for — and the manner in which he holds himself. she can’t stop herself from wanting to REMIND him of his posture and she certainly can’t think to retract the hand that’s somehow, unconsciously, breached the divide and brushed a speck of dirt from his cheek. maybe from a rooftop he’d lingered too long on, or a spot he’d missed when washing his face.
NOTHING about him escapes her; everylittleparticle of his being is magnified tenfold, intensified by rose-coloured lenses she views him through.
so she frowns, just so, when he says he’s okay. because she knows what okay means and she knows, when blues — broken pieces of the manhattan sky on a sunny day — meet browns, that okay isn’t there.
oh, how she wishes it was.
she won’t say a thing though, because she’s GWEN STACY and they’ve been broken up for weeks now and it’s felt like MONTHS and it’s been a knife twisting in her gut. she’ll weather the storm like she always has and shake her head politely, serene as an angel&sweet as one, too.
❛ not right now, NO. ❜
and before she can think better of it, before BRAINS can beat heart, she’s turned on her heel. sneakered feet — battered white converse to match his — carry her forward one pace and then ANOTHER before she’s allowed herself a backwards glance, loquacious & warm behind a fringe of spun gold. ❛ you coming? ❜
CHANCE seems to find him entertaining, because it threw him under one autumn morning, in a busy street near Main, about one-hundred-and-one different things for a couple to do within his reach: and he managed to find HER out of all of this.
Familiar hands touch his face, an almost-instinct ready for her to cup his cheek before she pulls away, brushing off some grime leftover from his latest adventure in a back-alley heist.
He can sense the boundary start to blur when skin brushes against skin, nimble fingers gracing flushed cheeks. The line is growing hazier in his vision as she steps back and turns on her heel. She leaves an imprint where exactly she stopped, her tiny gesture an open invitationto go ahead and try to pick the APPLE off its branches.
He pauses, wide-eyed gaze staring back at him, her sweet disposition taking a pickaxe to the wall he is frantically trying to rebuild for his own SANITY. It hurts, to physically stay put where he is, a greedy child that has been punished for getting into trouble one too many times. He looks down at old jeans and mud-stained converse, imagining what it feels like to step forward, walking pace by pace besides her own worn-out sneakers, reaching out one brave, callus hand to take HERS, showing off a dopey smile only ever reserved for her
—
( Stop it. )
He stares back at emerald hues, framed by a perfect head of GOLDEN hair that he can’t ever forget the geography of. He soon realizes she’s waiting, standing where she is just so he can play keep-up.
A stone plummets in his stomach, silently sinking to the bottom.
( How long ‘til I stop holding her back? )
It feels like a gunshot wound, some bleeding excuse to talk in deep, soft tones of finality and severance when he ponders to answer.
❝ I - I don’t know. I don’t think it’s
— appropriate. ❞
Because he’s been one to talk about what’s APPROPRIATE,
Like times when he’s showed up to her family dinners in tattered jeans, or skateboarding in the school hallways to get to her locker faster, or even times when he’s shown up at her window with an unplanned trip to the roof of the Empire State Building: keeping her up way past her curfew for a hundred different reasons.
Now he really can’t help himself, because he’s smirking without even realizing it. It’s a warm, bashful emotion that graces both cheekbones, swelling up in his eyes, HAZEL HUES glowing with curiosity when he stares back at her. It’s easy when it’s PETER PARKER: admittedly easier when it’s GWEN STACY. He can tell, just from the glint in her gaze, the smallest tinge of a smile playing at her lips: she’s thinking about it too.
He laughs, and for once it doesn’t feel like despair on chains.
❝ I guess it wouldn’t kill me. What’d you have in mind? ❞
He steps up, matching pace with her steps once he’s firmly crossed the line that has promptly faded.
( It’s only coffee. Or lunch
—
whatever, it doesn’t matter. That’s it. Nothing else. You can do this much, Parker. Is it even time for lunch yet? )
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