SPIDER-MAN.

I’m going to write even more on your face.

No, you have to explain! Only fair!

And how would that get misinterpreted?

/ Who wants Spider-Man?

Or wants to write? #marvelrp

Writing “I wuz here — Spidey”.

As soon as she touched him, he’d twitch at the feeling, his body furthering into her.

“And why haven’t you tried to eat him yet?”

“Spider always wins in the end. Cat hasn’t eat this spider..

Yet.”

“Didn’t think so.. but I’ve missed ya’, Fel. Not the same without our little cat and mouse games.”

“Can we really blame them?”

/ Like this for an interaction.

/ Hello, I think I’m back.

HAIL TO THE FUTURE.

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𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘.

He lands on a nearby rooftop with a soft 𝘵𝘩𝘸𝘪𝘱, crouching low, his body tense with anticipation, every nerve honed in on the threat that lies ahead.

The truth is here. The Goblin is back. —

Green Goblin’s return is not just a rumor. It’s a fact. And Spider-Man is the only one who can face it.

As he closes the distance, his breath steady but his pulse rapid, he feels the familiar rush of adrenaline. The trap is set. And Spider-Man’s already got the first move. —

The webbing cracks through the air, a constant rhythm now, as Spidey makes his way towards the heart of it all. The news reports, the whispers, they’ve all become irrelevant. What matters is action. What matters is the truth—the one he’s been running from. —

This city, his city, needs him. The people need him.

And the Green Goblin...

The Green Goblin needs to be stopped. —

Spider-Man pushes himself harder, his feet pounding against the buildings as he climbs higher into the city’s veins, each swing faster, more urgent. His mind sharpens. Every muscle in his body is burning, but he doesn’t stop. —

He swings, this time cutting through the dark like a shadow, his body low to the ground, moving with precision. He can feel it now, a rising storm inside of him. He knows where the Goblin is. Knows where the madness is waiting to unfold.

There’s no more time for hesitation.—

He can feel it. That sound. That manic, unhinged laughter, so tainted with madness it sends a shiver down his spine. A reminder of the havoc that’s just around the corner. Without thinking, his hands move again. Web-shooters fire, and the line of webbing snaps taut. —

Not yet. But he knows better than to wait for the fire to start.

The Goblin’s laughter is like a knife scraping across his spine. There. It’s not loud, not overt, but it’s there, hanging in the air like the distant echo of an explosion yet to happen. —

The one that happens right before a fight, right before he steps into the lion’s den. He lands on a lamp post with a soft 𝘵𝘩𝘸𝘪𝘱, his feet finding purchase on the metal, every tendon in his legs tense with readiness. The streets below are alive with movement, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary.—

His eyes scan the streets below as he swings lower, his head swiveling to catch any sign of the chaos that’s sure to be spilling out somewhere. He feels the tension snap in his chest, a tightening in his ribs. It’s the familiar burn. —

He’s done this a thousand times before. He knows how this works. The Green Goblin doesn’t just want chaos. He doesn’t just want destruction. He wants everything. To break Spider-Man. To break New York. To break everything. —