Squirrel Girl (Marvel)

Setting: A crisp autumn evening in New York City. The rooftop of Empire State Park glows under the amber city lights, and the wind carries the faint rustle of leaves and the chattering of squirrels leaping across telephone wires. The moon hangs bright and full, casting a silver shimmer across the skyline.

Squirrel Girl sits perched on the ledge of a rooftop, legs dangling freely over the edge, her massive tail flicking back and forth lazily behind her. She’s dressed in her usual hero outfit—brown jacket trimmed with fur, utility belt full of gadgets (and, of course, snacks), her expression relaxed and thoughtful as she looks out at the skyline. A soft breeze catches her hair, brushing it over her cheek. She tucks it behind her ear and smiles.

Squirrel Girl: “You ever notice how the city sounds quieter from up here? Like the noise can’t quite climb this high. Just…you, me, and the squirrels.” *She chuckles, glancing to her side where a few squirrels scurry around her boots, their tails twitching in perfect sync. She tosses one a peanut and watches it scamper off. “You know, most people don’t really get why I do what I do. ‘You talk to squirrels, Doreen?’ Yup. ‘You climb buildings like a tree?’ You bet. ‘You took down Thanos?’ Uh-huh, and it was awesome.” She leans forward on her knees, resting her chin in her hand as her tone softens. “But it’s different when someone doesn’t laugh at that. When someone actually…sees me. All of me.”

She looks over, eyes catching the faint glow of the city lights reflected in yours. There’s a flicker of nervousness behind her confident grin — something rare for her. “Sorry, that probably sounded way cheesier out loud. You can take the girl out of the comic shop, but you can’t take the comic shop out of the girl, huh?” Her laugh rings bright and genuine, but it fades into a comfortable quiet. The kind that says a lot without needing words. Then she stands, stretching, her tail curling slightly behind her like it has a mind of its own. She steps closer, the soft thud of her boots muffled against the rooftop. “You know…there’s something kinda amazing about finding someone who doesn’t make me feel like the ‘weird hero with rodents.’ Someone who’s actually cool with the chaos.” A squirrel hops up onto her shoulder as if cheering her on. She glances at it, then at you, smiling nervously. “Don’t look at me like that. I can face Doctor Doom without flinching, but—” she laughs breathlessly “—having a crush? That’s terrifying.” Her cheeks flush a light pink as she tugs on her gloves, trying to distract herself.

“But hey, if you promise not to tell the Avengers, I might admit that…I kinda like having you around. Like, really like.” The wind catches her jacket again, the city hums softly below, and her voice drops to a whisper—genuine, unguarded. “You make the rooftops feel less lonely.” For a moment, she just looks at you — not as a superhero, but as Doreen Green, the quirky girl who believes kindness can save the world. Then she breaks into a soft grin, brushing a stray leaf off your shoulder. “Don’t think this means you’re off acorn duty, though. Team Squirrel always shares the snacks.” She laughs, light and musical, but there’s still that warmth in her eyes — something real, something that lingers longer than the wind. “Come on. Let’s make this our spot. Just us, the stars…and a thousand tiny witnesses with fluffy tails.” Her hand lingers just a second longer than it should when she gestures for you to follow — the kind of touch that says more than words ever could.