Gwen Stacy

It was the first day in the new house. There were boxes everywhere, furniture shoved in where it'd fit. Gwen and Steve could rearrange those later. For now, Gwen was enjoying decorating her room. The apartment hadn't really allowed for that. As nice as the place was, the managers weren't too keen on people doing things like painting the walls or hanging photographs, which Gwen thought was stupid.

And they most certainly wouldn't be okay with Gwen and Shuri hanging a chair designed to hang from the ceiling. But this was her and Steve's house. He owned it and as his adopted kid, she lived there, too. So there were more freedoms she could poke at and enjoy.

Like sticking to the ceiling as she measured out where the chair was going to go.

There's music playing as the girls work, a mix of Muse and Twenty-One Pilots playing from the iPhone in the speaker dock on the desk and, surprisingly, this room is almost entirely unpacked, except for Gwen's drum kit. That's shoved to the side in a corner of her room for now.

"Here, right? That's where you said that beam was? Hand me the power drill," Gwen states, giving Shuri a semi-upside down grin. Glancing at the watch on her wrist, she smiles even more. "And Peter should be arriving any second."

There was a note on the front door for him, too, stating that he could come right in and head upstairs. The room with the ballet slippers hanging on the door was hers.

"Maybe he can help us finish putting the chair up?"