❝ LOOK AT YOU. YOU’RE ONLY ONE PERSON, STUD. IT’S TOUGH BEING A ONE–MAN ARMY AS IS. ❞
or at least it must be. she couldn’t tell you, not really. mj was barely (A) super. with a strong affinity to hold a drink, sure, but nothing kindred to saving new york city as you knew it. she came as a close second, maybe, as the coolest gal in the whole entire block ——— simultaneously somewhere and nowhere near spiderman. i’m getting too old for this, peter / you and me both. you and your righteous web. me and this dampened spot on my heart like fruit gone bad for you. *⃨ she doesn’t say it. he’s chumbled up and drawn into himself like a discarded draft on paper, wrinkled and worn. the lines on his face contract in ways she’s never seen before, his body cold when hers comes in to orbit heat into it via caressing hand offering mercy and hearth. F͟A͟C͟E͟ ͟I͟T͟, ͟M͟J͟. he’s the one person more of a mess than you are in this whole entire city. that’s got to count for something, right?
❝ YOU SAVE SO MANY FOLKS OUT THERE. so many. ❞
(...) ████ she sucks at this. surely, she must. all those years going at this, back and forth and back and forth, and still when the ball came to mj to save peter parker back like he did her, she can only manage the mere certainty behind words.
❝ you’re a hero, brown eyes. ❞ and there comes the point in time of the night where the shtick of showbizz fades. the applause disperses, the lights lose power and her voice becomes like that of a shivering canary’s﹕ ❝ YOU’RE M͟Y͟ HERO. ❞