#i will most certainly rob the bank

[alasoi]

That's it, it's now officially named "Chimney (monster) Spy" yahoo🎉

He looks so cool huhuhuu, long ass nose... puffing out smoke like a volcano bahaha. i wasn't sure what sort of a mask the spy could use. Your Bird Mask/skull is pretty darn cool of an idea!!

i gave a try at my spin on @alasoi's monster au Spy i just love the goddamn chimney so much

[yinwaryuri]

Jack and Joker: The Bank Scene

Happy Monday my friends, we finally are getting our gay heist show! YinWar truly have outdone themselves with the level of quality they've put into it and I couldn't be more excited or more grateful.

I wanted to break down the scene where Joke robs the bank because, given my experience in banking, it's was scripted very purposefully in favor of suspending our belief. Admittedly, my experience is in the US, and not all financial institutions operate the same, but for safety and security measures they're pretty standard across the board.

I was really appreciative of the disclaimer given ahead of time. It speaks to the research that was done for the sake of how much they could accurately portray the events, and when that seemed impossible and they couldn't let go of the scene, they said fuck it - gay story over realism it is. This break down is certainly not to dig at the writing; it's more to buff my knowledge than anything.

We love you YinWar, thanks for having respect for bank employees. Now let's get to the employees I don't respect, and the non-employee that I do.

For the most part, security officers don't need to do more than greet customers, and if there is any suspicion he shouldn't immediately interrogate someone. He's there for when things get escalated, or if there are any faces he should be looking out for (anyone banned from a branch for any reason), then he can confront them. If Joke had made an attempt at another location and that one tipped off others, then he would have a reason to suspect him.

Joke's mistake here: Being seen. He is so identifiable throughout. The show didn't bother checking any CCTVs, but he makes no attempt to hide from them. Instant jail. Sorry my guy. He also chooses a very unusual method and time of day to strike.

Since the officer did confront him, Joke gives an excuse.

This was a good call. If someone from another location or office, or a third party contracted service is coming, the employees would be notified beforehand of whom they should be and during which times. And even if the person is easily recognizable physically, they will have company identification on them, and if the security measures are extra strict, a form of government ID would also need to be shown.

LOUD WRONG ANSWER BUZZER

So what Joke is going to look for is someone who appears less competent. He looks at the older woman who likely has years under her belt and knows he has no chances there. But the girl to her left....

TARGET ACQUIRED

And she's already in trouble.

Oh hon.

That's never a situation I'd want to be in. Calling customers to inform them that there's been a mistake made on their account is never fun and it often is hard to reach them. There are ways of simply correcting the error and informing the person after it's been done just so they know what to expect when they look at the activity on their statement. Whatever the case, she's new, inexperienced, and having a bad day.

The balls he has to say this. Bestie. Have you ever touched banking software.

He's just getting her out of the way. If she had received any proper training and meant to apply it at all, this would've been a red flag. She is trusting the judgement of the security officer. Joke hasn't introduced himself by name and if he meant to help fix the mistake he wouldn't make her leave. It would be her responsibility and a good training opportunity. Instead, this happens....

She's risking so many things! Security within the immediate premises, security of the bank's information, confidentiality of the customers' information (which is literally their government ID, home address, other contact info, ALL of their accounts and activity). Absolutely a bad move.

GIRRRLLLL. That is on you. I saw her hesitate, but in the end just knew it was bad. At least where I've been, that possibly means fines and/or jail time for her as well, depending on the severity (most likely fines though). This poor girl is gonna have the worst confidence about her ability on the job after learning she helped a guy embezzle money. Where's her story?

Joke sends the security guard away, gets behind the desk with Carbon's ID and is likely planning to simply empty his account and leave. Then who should show up but Jack! (Next time please direct him to wait in a queue, your "manager" is supposedly still fixing your little check blunder, remember?)

And even Joke is nervous for a moment because he definitely didn't want to get the cute bartender involved.

Nevertheless, he humors Jack and listens to the bittersweet story of his childhood and his dream of opening a school. I love Jack, I really hope that he is able to open that school someday too.

So this part of the loan process is called the interview. It's where the employee will get an idea of the customer's needs and see if the bank's service is what they're looking for or if there is any particular offers they can make at this time. It's an important process when dealing in person because it will hopefully help the customer know which steps they can take depending upon approval. It's also where documentation is asked to verify what can be approved.

For the most part, Joke's charisma would be fantastic for a banking career because he seems natural at facilitating a conversation that requires someone to open up about their financial needs. He loses marks for not checking actual information, not filing any copies of the information he has been given, not explaining any details about paying the loan down or how having an account works, not starting the account opening process, and the numbers they talk about are vague so we don't even know how much money is in question here (which is probably a writing choice and I'm fine with it).

Instead Joke pulls a Picard and decides to make it so. And flirts at the same time. There's no signage around the branch to speak of this program and he doesn't go into any details, he simply grabs the stamp and seals their fates together.

I do think it's a sweet little change of mind he has. He was simply going to inconvenience Carbon, but what better way to do it (in his mind) than to give the money to the guy who got snubbed because of him?

The office being truly empty does crack me up. Who is supposed to be there and why are they gone? Also, for a bank, that vault is incredibly small. That is a home safe, that is not for securing the assets of the public. Also, most places have updated their protocol to use two people when opening the vault because having two people present also ensures less opportunity for employee theft.

His ass is not wearing gloves!

And, in a final un-bankerly move, he does not count out even the bundles.

FLIRT

I also love that he goes by Joker, but is constantly pulling a Batman exit on Jack.

I feel bad for knowing that I would have absolutely apprehended this man by asking the simplest questions. But I no longer work in that capacity and couldn't give a fuck! Let him do what he wants!

[macgyvermedical]

For episode explainers, have you done the episode of Psych where Shawn gets shot? S4e9

"...If you could just mail me to my dad's house now, that'd be... that'd be awesome."

I feel like I did this one, or maybe it's somewhere deep in my drafts, but I'll do it again, just for you Anon.

If you weren't watching American TV in the mid 2000s, Psych was a loosely-Sherlock-Holmes-based comedy about a brilliant detective who has severe ADD (as was the diagnosis at the time) which he uses, along with his father's extensive training, to pretend to be psychic.

In this particular episode, he ends up shot in the shoulder and kidnapped by the bad guys of the week, who are halfway through a plan to rob an armored vehicle transporting money between two banks.

So, essentially the big questions for this episode:

Where is the bullet wound exactly and is there a way to get shot in the shoulder that doesn't incur permanent damage?

Would his unconsciousness due to head injury be reasonable?

With said bullet wound and later head injury, would Shawn be able to escape the trunk, run for his life, and later jump between two moving vehicles with the extent of injury he suffered?

Bullet Wound:

So I get at least 2 asks a month that insinuate that getting shot in the shoulder (or abdomen) is some kind of relatively minor injury, and what can be done about them outside of a hospital.

Certainly that's how those kind of injuries are treated in fiction. Just to clear it up, however, getting shot in the shoulder is not only potentially life threatening due to non-tourniquet-able bleeding, but it can also be permanently disabling. Also, barring a shallow graze, there is no bullet-related shoulder injury that can be healed to full function without surgery.

Shoulders are not slabs of muscle- there's a TON of stuff in the shoulder that can be hella messed up by a bullet. These include the subclavian artery and vein, a nerve plexus, the brachial nerve, multiple bones, and tons of tiny little muscles (and also bigger muscles). Consider these 2 pics:

Based on where the blood makeup was applied, it looks like Shawn's wound starts maybe just above his rib cage but below his clavicle (shoulder bone), goes through his scapula (shoulder blade) and exits a little higher up than it entered. This puts him at risk for a lot of damage.

Potential damage includes: torn artery and vein (though unlikely given he did not bleed out where he was shot), injury to the nerve and nerve plexus (unlikely due to the fact that he is using his arm in the next episode), and potentially very bad injury to the scapula.

Duct taping the wound would do nothing for the bleeding without pressure also being applied, and while the guy that shot him was a sniper, likely with some combat first aid training, it doesn't look like he did much in the way of actually trying to stop bleeding.

To repair a torn artery or vein, a microsurgeon would have to literally sew the vessels back together. If they didn't, Shawn would have lost his arm. Or, in the case of injury to the vein, suffered permanent swelling in that arm.

Repairing a nerve is surprisingly more difficult. The surgeon basically sews the sheath around the nerve back together, but the nerve has to reconnect itself. This can take years and years, during which time the arm would be numb and paralyzed.

For the scapula, an orthopedic (bone) surgeon would have to replace all the pieces with either bone cement or fix them in place with metal plates. This would probably be the "easiest" to fix on the time frame in the episode.

Head injury:

When I started this blog 10 years ago, head injuries in fiction were used like they are in this episode- basically as a convenient way to knock someone out without lasting damage. As most of you know by this point, if someone is unconscious after a head injury, they are going to have some lasting damage.

In Shawn's case, it looks like he was out for long enough to move him to a chair and duct tape his wound. Maybe about 5 minutes. That's a fairly long time to be out after a head injury. Maybe not "learn to walk and talk again" but enough that he's going to spend the next few months unable to work, read, or look at screens without a fairly severe headache.

So, like, could this have happened? Sure, but the next episode would have to take place several months later, which I don't think it does.

Action scenes:

Well, Shawn would have trouble here. A broken scapula is going to severely limit movement and weight-bearing capacity on that left arm. He might have been able to run while holding the arm close to his body, but cutting the duct tape in the trunk of the car, texting Gus with both hands, and catching himself after jumping from the pickup to Lassiter's car would have been nearly impossible.

Also he would have spent probably several days in the hospital recovering from emergency surgery, and potentially months in outpatient physical and occupational therapy after a series of injuries like this.

So in conclusion, there was some literary license taken, as there usually is. Hope you liked it!

[vintagecandy]

I know she's probably lost forever and that he's a villain, but is it bad that I kinda really wish your Jervis finds his daughter--

Oh no, I'm sure just about everyone wishes poor Jervis could find his Alice someday, wishful thinking as it may be.

That maybe some grander villain just so happened to have snatched her up, or she lost her memory, or she fell down a rabbit hole, keeping her lost from him for years, so that somehow she can stumble back into a Jervis that's well into his villain career and insanity and-- seeing how much her father needs her-- their reunion just... fixes everything. A fairytale ending.

Well, for the most part. He has severe brain damage, needs a machine on his head to keep himself from symptoms of nerve poisoning, and by then had been through damaging amounts of experimental treatments from 1920s Arkham-- but if anyone could talk sense into him it'd be his daughter, once it fully clicks that he's found her. And he remembers the difference between a book and his child lmao.

She'd probably need to be his caretaker, but I don't think she'd mind at all. Certainly a better alternative than letting him rob banks.

[blerb-f1]

"Let them talk" - 2008!Sebastian Vettel x Engineer!Reader (platonic???)

This one is again based on another Song called "Lasse Reden" (Let them Talk) by Die Ärzte. I really like it so give it a listen if you want to.

Let em run their mouths 

Did you do something that normally no one does?

Are you wearing high heels or even a hat?

Or did you wear too skimpy of a dress,

Without asking your neighbors for permission first?

Sebastian flipped the newspaper open, staring disgruntled at the articles badmouthing him. For some reason, German Media weren't a Fan of him. A young, overly confident upstart they could step on easily is what he was to them. 

Of course, now you'll be treated with contempt

You're a disgrace to the whole neighborhood

You don't even know their names

And they're already running their mouths about you. 

You just stared at the awful stuff they said about him. Just where exactly did they get that stuff from? What made them get those ideas? Were they so miserable in their own boring little lifes? 

You leaned forward, comfortingly holding Sebastian's right hand. 

"They don't know you Seb, that's why they're able to pull shit like this" 

Sebastian looked at another article, eyes scanning the rude words laid in front of him. 

"I know that THEY don't know me. That's why they are so rude. I mean, I've just joined Red Bull properly. Taking over after David Coulthard won't be easy but what do they expect? If Horner wants me to be Driver 1, I have to become Driver 1. That's how the Business works. Bashing Me because they wanted Mark to get the spot is idiotic. It's not like we two have that many choices to make in that regard"

You eyed a smaller article, reading the insults that were hurled at you. Being Sebs' equally young and inexperienced Engineer at Toro Rosso was already pretty special but Christian Horner invited you to follow him to the Main Team. Like a Buy one get one free deal. Pretty nice money and friendship wise but pretty bad gossip wise. 

Let them talk, and don't listen to them

Most people just don't have anything better to do

Let them talk, day and night

Let them talk - they always have, anyway

Apparently, something you didn't know about yourself,was that you were the lover of Helmut Marko and got Sebastian into this position by fucking said old fart on top of the RB03. Interesting. Another, even meaner comment, had implied that somehow Sebastian was a paid driver that got in thanks to Flavio Briatore and you had planned Crashgate. Considering that you were just a little engineer at Toro Rosso, that seemed very outlandish. Furthermore, something about Briatore always irked you the wrong way so there was no way in Hell you'd be caught dead around him. Being the same age as Sebastian, you didn't think that people were taking you as capable of stuff like that. A 21y.o. planning something like Crashgate? And even if you somehow were that big brained, in what manner would Fernando Alonso winning the Race benefit Sebastian? You just shook your head at the brainfarts that managed to get printed. 

You've certainly robbed a bank

How else could you afford your rent?

And you've been banned from the United States

Because you're Osama bin Laden's lover

Seb sighed as he read another news out loud: "Michael Schumacher reveals: Vettel too cocky for his own good. The 7x champion despises being around the moronic Rookie". As he finished reading and slouched back into his seat, you just stared in shock. Michael liked Sebastian. He appreciated him as a driver, a young fresh talent and as a fellow German. He treated him more like a son than anything. He was a better not dad than most of those so-called journalists must have had growing up.  You stood up from your own booth seat, sliding over to Sebs Side, bumping into his side while sending him a Comforting Smile. You both sipped the bad Coffee they served in Hospitality, trying to form fictional race tracks out the stains the mugs left on the table.

Do you shave your women's-beard daily

Or do you have a few corpses buried in your garden?

The neighbors surmised as much

So don't be surprised when the detectives drop by

You pointed at another article. "See this one?". The young man moved his eyes to the next page, gazing upon the article squished between ads for most likely racist books and lawnmowers. "Fernando Alonso actually deceased, replaced by a driver that got plastic surgery."

He chucked at the thought of someone learning to be like Fernando Alonso. Some poor bloke forced to do that bunny dance on top of an F1 Car. How even would one imitate a Driver?  "Imagine getting someone to look like Coulthard? Would they put new bones into that chin?" you joked while pointing at your chin. You then hollowed out your cheeks, stretching your face. "Or imagine someone looking like Mark. Like, how do you initiate that?”

Seb started laughing along with you while pretending to give himself a longer chin:"Sebastian Vettel imitates Michael Schumacher. Has this rookie gone too far?" 

The laughter coming from deep down your stomach was so loud that some of the other people in hospitality turned around, staring at you two. Normally you’d hide away in some empty office, eating your cold food there while racing against Sebastian on your two PSP’s that he won in a raffle.

Let them talk and just don't listen

Most people don't mean anything by it

It's their monotonous life that bothers them

And the day becomes much more interesting when you tell stories

Mark, who'd heard your imitations, while walking in, came over and scooted into the booth you sat in earlier while giving you two a comforting smile. "That's the correct way to deal with those stupid fake news" he stated, while stretching his legs under the table. "They'll always think of something stupid to talk about. What are they supposed to report, if not stupid shit like that? You think normal people buy the headline 'Red Bull Racing' s new Talent Sebastian Vettel is a kind bloke'?" 

Seb seemed to tense next to you for a second before relaxing again." You mean, this will go on forever? "

" Yes", Mark answered bluntly. "That's how it's always been and always will be." 

And they probably don't feel ashamed

They lack discretion

And repeatedly prove: [that] they are petty,

inescapable, xenophobic

"Look at the stuff they write about Lewis Hamilton, for example" he said while smiling sadly. "Your slander is just normal slander, he's getting hate simply because his skin colour isn't on their approval page. Formula 1 features people from all over the world, so they pick the easiest target who could be someone who's from a minority group like Lewis or a young fool like you. Those people can span from idiots to hyenas. You gotta learn how to ignore them and especially, not feed them. Fake articles can be fun for a hot minute but blow up and grow into some massive thing "

Did you hear, and say, did you already know?

That is to say, you earn your money through prostitution

You work the corner by the bus station

The colleague of a brother-in-law saw you the other day

"So my Advice for you two: Don't run with what they say about you in public. Be so kind that it hurts. Y/N, don't mention that Crashgate stuff anywhere. The Brazilians won't be happy with your jokes and the media will spin it like you're actually involved and somehow hate everyone from there. Seb, don't treat Me different just because People hate Christian Horner putting you in this position. That's on them, not you. Just be polite and let your racing do the talking. "

His statements were the whole damn truth, leaving you and Seb too stunned to speak. Mark took this chance to take the newspaper away from you, just to chuck them into the trash bin." Let me resolve those issues for you. Drivers need to look out for one another, don't they? Someone gave me the same advice back then so i’m giving it to you now," Seb nodded in agreement, watching the tall man leave catering while the newspaper quickly got covered by leftover Spaghetti. 

Let them talk, just laugh it off

Most people get their information from Bild*

Which consists of, who knew,

Fear, hate, tits, and the weather report

Let them talk, because this is how it is:

As long as they talk, that's the worst they do

And you can afford a little hypocrisy

Stay polite and say nothing - that annoys them the most.

Seb stared at you for a short second before getting up and holding out his hand towards you like a knight to his princess. 

" Y/N, may I invite my strategic Genius to play an evil round of Gran Turismo 4?"

You grabbed his hand, pretending to flip your skirt. 

"Of course, Mr. Evil. But you take the Mad-Catz Controller" 

Seb stared at you with fake shock. The audacity. The Mad-Catz Controller was reserved for poor younger brothers around the world normally. You lost your other proper one during the move to Red Bull though and this one was the one Horner had gotten you after asking you for a new one.

"How dare you make Christian Horner's secret Love Child take the shitty Controller?" 

You stuck out your tongue towards him. "I'm sorry Sebastian Horner, I think having Helmut Marko, Flavio Briatore and Bernie Ecclestone on speed dial makes me the instant winner of the original Controller." 

While Mark had told you to not make fun of that stuff, doing it once or twice won't be too bad, will it? 

*Bild is like a shitty german newspaper with clickbaity titles known to stir hatred, show lots of nudity and general stupidity.  Also yes, i'm having Seb Brainrot rn.

[thebisexualdogdad]

Oliver Queen x Male!reader dating headcanons

*Rafael Silva used as fancast*

● you met Oliver at a bar one night after work, he tried to impress you by buying you the most expensive drink off the top shelf

● it worked, along with his charming personality

● and it certainly didn't hurt how handsome he was either

● so you went home with him that night

● and then the next night

● and again the next

● within weeks he was calling you his boyfriend

● but it wasn't until a year later when you just so happened to be at a bank that was being robbed and the green arrow saved the day

● you went to see Oliver that night and found him stitching up a bullet hole in his waist at the exact spot the green arrow had been shot in at the bank

● he tells you everything starting from getting stuck on Lian Yu

● oh yeah and that his best friends Dinah and Roy are also black canary and arsenal

● it takes some time to adjust to this new discovery

● Oliver gives you space but once it all settles in you're back to your old selves

● "So you're really okay with this?"

● "I fell in love with Oliver Queen and if you and the green arrow are a packaged deal than I'll just have to accept that"

● did he come home to you one day trying on his suit? Yes

● and did he find it hilarious when you got stuck trying to quickly take it off? Also yes

● he tries to teach you how to use his crossbow

● "you know this is a lot harder than it looks"

● "it takes a lot of practice, you could always go get stranded alone on an island for five years like I did"

● "no thanks I would go crazy if I didn't get to look at that pretty face of yours everyday"

● Oliver is the proudest boyfriend

● he loves to show you off when you go out

● especially to big wig business guys he's making deals with

● "this is my boyfriend Y/N, let me tell you his entire life story and how amazing he is"

● and he will take any chance he gets to celebrate your accomplishments

● you got a promotion at work and Oliver used his connections to get last minute reservations at the most exclusive restaurant in town and bought a brand new suit

● speaking of, Oliver should not have been as surprised as he was when you showed up to the restaurant in a bright green suit of your own

● "Hey its like I get to show off that my boyfriend is the green arrow without people knowing that my boyfriend is the green arrow"

● he's super romantic too, he has plans for every anniversary you could possibly think of

● and valentine's day is his favorite holiday

● it's the one day where he doesn't take advantage of his financial status to take you out on an unnecessarily extravagant date

● and instead sets up a quiet dinner at home

● he pretends that he made the intricate meal when the private chef he hired snuck out mere minutes before you arrived

● so maybe he still spent quite a bit of money on that

● and on the ridiculously expensive wine

●… and on the bouquets of roses that all over your home

● after two years you thought you had gotten used to Oliver being a superhero

● but then Dinah kicks down your door as she and Roy carries in Oliver who is bloody and beat to hell, barely conscious

● "what the hell happened!"

● Dinah "deathstroke ambushed us"

● "look at him, he should be at the hospital!"

● Roy "and tell them what? That Oliver Queen is the green arrow?"

● you're pacing around as Dinah and Roy patch him up and he finally comes back to

● "Oh my god, Ollie you're okay, I thought you were going to die," you say kissing him

● "you can't get rid of me that easy" he jokes

● "it's not funny Oliver I was really scared"

● "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you"

● Roy "I hate to say it but this kind of thing comes with the territory of dating a superhero Y/N"

● Dinah "this isn't going to be the last time something like this will happen and next time it could be worse are you going to be able to handle that?"

● "I meant it when I said that I accept you and the green arrow are a packaged deal Oliver, I love you and I'm not going anywhere"

● Oliver "I love you too Y/N"

[sculkcensor]

If your childhood friend Gertrude Wilson pulled up to your house in a Japanese kei car and asked you to help her rob a bank in Germany would you do it?

Before we approach the central question of this If, we first have to tackle an important and relevant unknown - Gertrude.

As she is a fictional construct of the hypothetical, I have no basis for understanding Gertie's personality and motivations. She is my childhood friend, certainly - which means I would have to assume she's someone I am familiar with, and would know if this was an 'out of character' request for her to put on me. In general, I am inclined to help my friends, but is this something Gertie would normally ask of me, even in a pinch, or is something strange going on here?

Gertie pulls up in a Japanese Kei car, to my house, which is in the UK. Kei cars need to be fairly well modified to be road legal here, never mind the import costs, so we would assume from this Gertie has a fair amount of money already. She would therefore need to present a solid reason as to why robbing a bank is now necessary. Is this her normal car, or a new one? The specification of a 'Japanese' Kei also may imply it has not been modified to road legality - they are Japanese cars, but most would just understand what a Kei is without this specification, I think. Should this car even be on the road? These potentials make me think something else is going on here.

Something sinister.

Gertie, is somebody forcing you to do this? Has some shady deal left you in dire straits? Who gave you this car? Who is the money for? If you need money we can find another way to help you. Why Germany? I fear of all places Germany is not the choice - it has some of the safest banking systems in the world, I hear. There must be reason to this choice.

So - upon this happening, I would believe my good friend Gertrude has been backed into a corner by some very shady people. Luckily, I have a good contact - the Nicaraguan government, as of the previous hypothetical, is on good terms with me thanks to a beneficial deal on both parts. Yes, this If takes place in the same world, why wouldn't it?

I would therefore help Gertrude flee the country to Nicaragua via the return ship that delivers my lifetime mango supply, and cover her tracks as best I can. But I'm sorry, I can't go with you, Gertie. I still have a life to live. But once the heat on you cools down, I promise - we'll go to Germany together, not as bank robbers, but as tourists and friends.

[maxislvt]

thank u for the most recent wanda x spider reader i love it so much thank u😭😭😭more please its so good

warnings: very brief mentions of arguing, brief injury

I'm considering making it a full fic but some headcanons for now!!!

When you guys first start dating, she catches you at really bad times. your identity is a secret so you have to keep explaining to her how you somehow escaped the bank that almost got robbed safely via an alleyway that doesn't connect to the other side of the street

Wanda can tell you're lying but can't really figure out why for a while. It makes her a little nervous so maybe she peaks into your mind and that's how she finds out you're Spider-Punk. For a long while she doesn't say anything. One, because she feels bad for not trusting you. Two, because now that she knows it's really obvious and she's embarrassed that she didn't catch on sooner

It's not that you don't do a good job of hiding your identity from the public, you're just really bad at lying to Wanda. Even small things like if you had breakfast or not make you crack under pressure

After a few months of dating, you do come clean and tell Wanda. She tries to act shocked but she's really bad at it, so Wanda just tells you she already knew but didn't want to tell

Despite the awkwardness of the confession, it makes things a lot easier but can be the cause of some arguments.

Sometimes you come home and look like shit cause some guy with super strength slammed a car into your body or you somehow a building collapsed on you and Wanda can't stand seeing you like that. Of course you understand but it's upsetting because she's always trying to convince you to take a break or even step down after rough fights but you never stop her from being an avenger. Even when she's gone for weeks at a time. Even on the worst days you two still love each other and sleep in the same bed. Maybe it takes a while, but you two will be fine again

Despite her concerns, or maybe because she'll never stop being concerned, she takes pride in being the one to patch you up. Wanda would never really do anything to stop you from being Spider-Punk, but she can at least stop you from getting some nasty infection. There's an odd calmness in it. It's late, you're both tired, and want nothing more to snuggle into each other and not worry

As you two get older and enter more committed stages of your relationship, I do see Wanda trying to convince you to become an Avenger. You're apprehensive at first. Your priority has always been the city. It wasn't that you didn't care about other worldly threats, but you're not willing to abandon the place you grew up in. Eventually you settle on being a part time avenger. Not having to build your stuff in the garage certainly aided that choice

Wanda hoards all your little sketchbooks. She doesn't understand most of the math or chemistry scribbled into but they have so much of your personality in them she can't help but love them. Everything from the coffee stains to the doodles of what you wanted for lunch that day.

Oh and she definitely cashes in on all the official merch you get once you become an avenger. All the little plushies, bandaids, and posters??? Oh she's buying all of it. There's something so ironic about you having to prompt a non-stick skillet despite being an absolute menace in the kitchen .

[widowshill]

Roger w 11 and 12

UNHINGED CHARACTER ASKS.

11. Forget the sex or die trope. This character must attempt to rob a bank or they will die. Do they succeed/how much do they get? (If you have extra time, what’s their plan? Who is their crew?)

for all that Roger generally flounders trying to cover up his involvement in a crime in the pen arc, he is very well motivated by desperation, and this is the guy who masterminded a decent scheme to keep himself out of jail, and that went undisputed for a decade. so! I'm going to say succeed, but this isn't going to be Lupin iii levels of heist

importantly, he's going to act mostly alone, rather than with a whole crew — he can't let Liz know he's a common bankrobber, that's mortifying. Burke would be the best choice of partner (and pre-accident, he'd almost certainly pick burke) but that's inviting a lifetime of holding that over his head or extorting him for it. he could twist Carolyn or Vicki's arms into helping him, but they'd probably talk, and David, while a great kid to have with you on a heist, would probably extort him worse than Burke.

I really have two different answers, depending on what part of the show we're in. in the beginning, I think he'd pick on Joe: he's muscle, generally obedient, and Roger can use his working for the family to hold over him, and importantly, he won't talk because to do so would sacrifice his own pristine reputation. he also might be convinced for a share of the money (to marry/take care of Maggie) and Joe, while usually morally sound, has been persuaded before to take up nefarious grave robbing when he thought it was necessary to help the family.

The basic plan would be to use the leverage of his name to get them to open up the bank after hours — i.e. that Liz wants something from the family vault, and he's fetching it (because she's still in Liz Jail) and they have to have it now because of whatever excuse — mostly, because Collinsport runs on the Collins Whim. That ensures the least amount of witnesses possible, and probably only one employee, and a pretty safe getaway. He'd make sure plenty of people in the Blue Whale heard him say he was heading to the bank, which could supply any number of possible suspects.

Roger would then use his charm on the poor teller, and get him to open up whatever (I'm assuming this is just the local bank, so not a huge institution with complicated security, there's probably only one vault). then, enter Joe, in some kind of mask, knock out Roger to make things look good (which he has always wanted to do), and either knock out the teller or just intimidate him (since this is Joe, probably the latter) until he gets away with however much he can fit in a seabag.

It's not gonna take long for the Collinsport police to get there because they're like. two minutes away. so it's important that he hurts Roger pretty significantly, such that the teller is motivated to get him to the hospital before he calls the police. (again. Joe has dreamed of times like these). stash the money in Roger's trunk, and he can make it to the Evanses within a few minutes, who will supply a solid alibi that he was there with Maggie the whole night. Roger, when he comes to, will of course refuse medical care, and insist on driving himself back to Collinwood, where Patterson can question him at his convenience. By which time, one hopes, he'd have already put the money in some little secret compartment, and the worst thing he has to worry about is David finding it.

but that's all if this is pre-Barnabas. post? of course he's robbing a bank with his bestie Julia, who a) loves to do a little crime, b) has the most braincells of anyone, and c) has the powers of hypnosis and milf audacity on her side. the basic premise is the same, because they still don't want any extra witnesses if they can help it, but let Jules hypnotize the guy at the bank and they can both get away with significant chunks of money, with very little suspicion cast on either of them. It's still possible that Roger's car could be noticed, which is probably the most vulnerable spot in their getting suspected — it'd be pretty essential that Julia didn't erase his memory of their being there entirely, even let Roger make whatever withdrawal he was going to before the hypnosis, so that when he's questioned he remembers both of them making a normal visit and leaving.

12. This character suddenly finds themself on the titanic. Do they survive?

probably! first and foremost, Roger is basically indestructible. people have tried to kill him many times and he's emerged each time with a few scratches from things he definitely should have died from, or at least been severely injured by. and a Collins can't die from a sinking ship in the middle of the frozen ocean. please. it's in his genes. he's cursed to be a miserable maritime survivor.

but, more seriously: it's likely Roger would be a first class passenger, which means his odds of survival are much better, even if, on the whole, not many men survived. he's also, well. selfish. and entirely willing to make sure he gets on the lifeboat instead of a woman or child he doesn't know. he may not have any joie de vivre to speak of, but when the chips are down, he's preserving his own skin.

for the sake of hypothetical, I'm going to say that he didn't sail on his own, but went with the rest of his family. having David also increases his chances of survival, even if David would much rather just push him overboard, since parents with children held priority over childless adults. today, he is a loving father that cannot bear to be separated from his beloved son. tomorrow, who knows.

there's also the fact that Liz wouldn't let him drown. she'd pull him bodily out of the water if she had to. there's being willing to sell your brother for one corn chip; and then there's Liz facing the prospect of her baby brother, a Collins, dying a slow, miserable, awful death. so she'd do, or say, whatever she had to to get him in that boat with her and Carolyn and David, she wouldn't leave Roger behind.

[hitheeprithee]

thoughts on villain ranchers? Either villain4villain or villain4some guy....perhaps even both villains but only one embraces it? I wanna hear your thoughts!!

hi thank you for completely breaking my brain open with this concept, I have been furiously rotating it since you sent this ask. please enjoy this superhero au that manifested through me.

--

Jimmy is a canary, or at least that's what his mother called him (it's kinder than what other people have called him later in his life). He can sense misfortune and redirect it. Not ever away from himself, but most certainly towards others. Concentrated bad luck, strumming at the strings of fate to nudge a tragedy into the path of another. Maybe he doesn't have control over it always, and anyway it's not exactly like, a good guy's power, so he maybe falls into a bad crowd. He's always gotten Looks, even from his former teammates. He's hurt people before. He's hurt himself before (frequently).

So he's a villain. He has to be, right? With the way he hurts? He's not exactly enthusiastic though, not like the Dungeon Master. He's heard his cackle before, seen the way his eyes light up like fireworks when a contraption of his works (or blows up, but either way what glorious destruction-) and it's almost infectious. Almost makes Jimmy enjoy himself on the jobs they cross paths. Jimmy remembers when he was fighting this guy, and pulling at the potential lurking in bugged code and faulty wiring to make his redstone machinery break down. Now he can't help but nudge a bit of good luck in his direction, almost instinctively pulling the bad outcomes out of the crazy guy's path.

They're working on a job together when Jimmy senses something Off, and there's a problem with a machine that he can't divert, an inevitability that may just kill the Dungeon Master. He pulls him out of the way just in time, and the man looks at him bewildered, flat on his back, with Jimmy hovering over him. Jimmy never forgets the grin that split the man's (very handsome) face in that moment, as he declared Jimmy a good luck charm, and decided that he would keep him.

Jimmy had never been called good luck before.

It's not long before they exchange names (The Coalbird and The Dungeon Master. Tango squints at him as they sit down one night, just Jimmy and Tango in that moment, and asks him what the name means. When Jimmy tells him about the birds the miners took down into the coalmines, Tango interjects that he thought those birds were called canaries. Something hurt in Jimmy settles into place in that moment, an old hurt he didn't know he carried. He hears his mother's laugh as Tango says that's what he's going to call him now, his canary. Jimmy has to hide his smile behind his cup. He doesn't tell Tango no).

There's been some dates too. A lot of dates. Jimmy hangs around his workshop, learning that Tango wasn't really in the villain business to actually hurt people, but after a certain point his department didn't exactly appreciate the mad scientist thing so much any more, and funding was a little thin for experiments that had a 50/50 chance of explodificating. So robbing banks was really just the next logical step after that, if you thought about it.

Maybe at some point down the line there is a breaking point. Maybe there is a moment where they question what it is they're doing exactly, when they have something to lose now. This isn't a safe thing they're doing. Neither of them are the megalomaniac supervillain type, but heroes fight back hard nonetheless. Jimmy's brother doesn't though, even though he sees Grain skirt the edges of battles looking as torn and indecisive as Jimmy's ever seen him (he misses him he misses him he misses him he misses him-). Maybe there's a day when Tango and Jimmy decide enough is enough and run away from it all, buy a ranch in the foothills of the mountains and leave the city behind. Maybe they get that chance. Maybe Grian visits them, and Scar will get over the fact that he used to face them as HotGuy, and Jimmy will have a family again. Maybe.

But being a villain is a dangerous business, and Jimmy can't change his own fate, no matter how much he might try. And Tango and Jimmy, well they're bound now, aren't they. When Jimmy tries to divert the strings of their fate, his grip slips off of Tango's thread. Their fates are one and the same now. And if there's one single thing he knows, it's that Jimmy can't change his own fate.

[mrwolfhare]

Kind of a Drawtober thing

<- Previous

26. Bounty

“Now what are you, little guy?”

“Someone who doesn’t like being spoken to like that.”

“Sorry little guy, what should I call you?”

“Rocket.”

“Okay, what are you, Rocket?”

“What?”

“I need to know what species you are before I’m allowed to serve you anything. My boss don’t want me killing our clientele, so I need to know what’s poisonous to you first.”

“Oh, I’m not looking for anything to eat. Or drink.”

“Fair enough. What’s a shivering little Rocket doing in a bar this early then?”

“I heard from an inmate... I mean from a friend, that this is where I need to go for bounty hunting?”

“What luck, you heard correct. Yes, welcome to Tracker’s Den. I’m not Tracker though, that’s my mom’s boyfriend, he lets me work here to earn some cash on the side.”

“Okay? Look, I just need to know how this bounty hunting thing works. Could you go through it for me?”

“Sure thing, Rocket. But before we get into the nitty and the gritty of hunting down people, I just need to know if you’re maybe cold, because you keep shivering, and stop me if I’m assuming anything about your species, but most mammalian people on Contraxia usually wear something to stay warm.”

“Why you askin', you got something for me to wear?”

“Funny you would ask, I might have something. Lots of people get stupid drunk here and forget their stuff here, and never comes back to pick it up again. Here, have a look through the box.”

“Okay, thanks. There, happy now?”

“Good choice, the stripes compliment your tail stripes, plus you look like a little wizard.”

“Yeah, fine, now about the bounty hunting thing.”

“Certainly, so, people come in here, they sign the register, and then pick a bounty to hunt.”

“Wait, you gotta register?”

“Not to worry, it’s all private, you can even use a pseudonym, it’s just to make sure two people don’t go after the same bounty.”

“Huh, okay, how do you get paid then?”

“You just contact the client that put up the bounty. Payment happens on delivery.”

“Yeah about that, is it like actual payment stuff in hand, or do I need an account at a bank?”

“That depends on the client. Most just do the account payments.”

“And what if I don’t have one of those?”

“No worries, you can just sign up for a account.”

“Yeah, I tried doing that at the Contraxia Bank, but I got.. removed.”

“Oh, yeah, Contraxia Nexus people aren’t that great. Laid off a lot of people to replace them with reprogrammed pleasure bots. Personally I don’t see the attraction of pleasure bots, but I think that’s a species thing. Or it’s a personal thing. Frankly I’m just hoping to maybe find someone special.”

“Can we get back on point?”

“Oh, right, so I got an account with the bank of A'askavaria, apparently nobody has ever even robbed them. They got a nice referral system going on, so I can just refer you, and then they set up an account for you, how’s that sound?”

“Great, thanks, how do we do it?”

“I’ll go grab my com-pad and start setting it up for you, you can go ahead and start looking through the bounty board. Do you have a com-pad?”

“Not anymore, mine got confiscated.”

“You know I think we got an old spare one around here. I shouldn’t really be giving out free stuff like this, my boss will end up firing me, but I really don’t care that much about this job. You know I’m not even from Contraxia, moved here when Asgard made sure there was peace on our planet, but I’m from a sort of a warrior type of people, you know.”

“Uh-huh, I sign here?”

“Yeah, and then the next page. So now I was thinking about this kind of itch my people get when we want to fight, and my mom’s got her own fight club around here, maybe I should go and find a place that’s got a lot of fighting. Where you from anyway?”

“No-where. I just submit then?”

“Yeah, just make sure you fill in the necessary places. I think I heard of that place. Big head, right?”

“What? No, I mean, I came here from Sakaar.”

“Oh right, I met people from there, none of them seemed happy.”

“Yeah, probably because they’re ruled by a dictator asshat that’s an absolute idiot. Okay, everything is submitted.”

“Great, there’s all the info you need to get paid. Now when you say dictator… those tend to cause rebellions, don’t they?”

“Probably, I don’t know.”

“I think I need to quit and head over to Sakaar.”

“That’s great, so I just select a bounty on that board there?”

“Yup, but you can also just log on to the Hunter Network on your com-pad. I wonder if I should make revolution pamphlets.”

______

Years later over at New Asgard on Earth, after Rocket, Bannerhulk and Thor left to undo the Thanos snap...

"Hey, Miek, I was sort of playing the game, and my attention was mostly on it, but there was like a small furry guy in here, right?"

*clicklick*

"Right right, I was actually afraid I was imagining him when I noticed him, and was too worried to say something, but I think I know that guy. Although when I last saw him, he was a wizard."

*clicklick*

"Nah man, I don't touch the stuff anymore, makes me too paranoid."

[jinmukangwrites]

Mystery Upstairs - Chapter 7

Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU), Marvel, Daredevil

Rating: G

Warnings: mentions of panic attacks, mild cop violence, canon typical violence, Matt taking the Lord's name in vain, the author not knowing if taking the Lord's name in vain is something Catholics worry about, the author not knowing every detail on how the legal system works and will tell you to blame Foggy on getting anything wrong and not the author themself.

Ao3

Summary: Peter needed a place to stay after the universe forgot about him. Luckily, there's a complex in Hell's Kitchen that won't ask questions. It's only chance that Peter recognizes the face of the Lawyer upstairs.

Meanwhile, Matt cannot help himself from checking in on his new, young neighbor who couldn't be old enough to be out of highschool

----

"I think I don't know is becoming one of my least favorite things to hear, ever," Foggy said after a full 15 seconds of silence. Funnily enough, Foggy wasn't lying.

Matt had just finished explaining the basics of the whole Peter situation, telling most of the information that he knew—leaving out specifically that Peter had somehow reacted to May Parker's name, that wasn't something he couldn't give anything more than speculation on... speculation that also had a lot of I don't know's that would just make Foggy more angry with Matt. 

Foggy, previously happy to see the conversation had switched to something he potentially had more opportunity to involve himself in—legal involvement was his favorite kind of involvement—had unfortunately started asking questions that mattered.

Where did Peter come from? Who were his parents? Why was he on his own? How old was he? Matt please tell me you at least know his last name. Ok, does anyone else find it weird his last name is Parker? That's a little weird right? Yes I know May Parker didn't have any living relatives but come on it's a little weird right? Matt you have that look on your face that you agree it's a little weird. What do you mean drop it?!

Matt sighed, and Foggy dropped it, though Karen's tense posture certainly suggested she hadn't, which was in character. He'd let her do her thing, her job was to snoop, he needed Foggy to focus on the legal things.

"Listen," Foggy continued, "people lose legal documents all the time. House fires, robbery, carelessness, runaways. Everything can be replaced with fee's and various proof of other kinds of identification — but what I'm hearing is that this kid has nothing and that's infinitely more difficult. The Blip made getting identification without proof of citizenship easier, yeah, but it's still difficult. How does he even have a place to stay?"

"He's paying in cash," Matt replied, thoughtfully. "Enough cash that any greedy landlord would happily brush some rules under the rug for."

"Drop the greedy adjective," Foggy waved his hand, "that's all landlords."

"Point stands."

"How'd he even get that cash?" Karen asked, intrigue lacing her breath. "If he doesn't have a job, let alone a way to legally be hired for a job..."

"Probably stole it from his parents," Foggy suggested. "Or robbed a bank. Or he had a job, lost it, got everything liquidized before booking it here to his current situation."

"That's a lot of allegations," Matt sighed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest—eyebrows lowered so they brushed against his glasses. "There has to be a way to help him out. People show up out of nowhere all the time."

"We've helped people get their lives back before, the Blip gave us plenty of work," Karen said.

Foggy reminded her before Matt could, rubbing his chin and pacing slightly. "So many people needed their identities back that it was easy to help them. All you had to do really was say you're a lawyer and your client needs a social security card pretty please and the government would give you it just so they could get to the millions of other requests."

Foggy knew more about this line of legal work than Matt did. Foggy liked to help everyone, while Matt usually buried his head into the ones deemed unhelpable.

"The processes for the Blip still exist, I thought?" Matt didn't mean to make it sound like a question. Or well, it sounded like a question to himself, the rise of his voice was just barely caught, for his ears alone. "It hasn't been that long."

"Yes, but long enough they're getting strict again with the process. Plenty of people have jumped onto the opportunity to get documents that they legally shouldn't have. Power to them, really, but it's made it so they'll need more proof — testaments of friends and family, good lawyers, dental records, anything they can get their hands on to prove that you one: was a legal citizen pre-Blip, and two: proof that you blipped at all. Did he Blip?"

"I don't know." Foggy rolled his eyes. "I'm sure the process could be easier with the right lawyers, regardless," Matt suggested.

Foggy sighed, catching the hint. The sigh alone answered the unasked question on whether or not Foggy would help Matt with this. "Just tell me why you want to help so bad, and then I'll get on more research."

Matt smiled. "He's... interesting. Everything about him is a question. Besides, he's a good kid. I'd hate to sit back and watch him fall into homelessness just because of a few missing IDs."

That, and the fact that there were irresistible puzzles to the kid that he didn't mention because of the aforementioned speculation. What did Peter go out and do at night? Why had he reacted so strongly to Matt's phone call with Karen?

"Alright," Foggy said, resigned. "I'll get on it. Just promise me this isn't going to lead us down a huge rabbit hole of the kind of shit you deal with."

Karen scoffed. "Don't make him promise anything he can't keep."

The mood lightened with the semblance of a plan. The three of them settled in to discuss the next steps. Karen would continue to dig into May Parker, Foggy would look into getting IDs for a kid that didn't governmentally exist, and Matt would return home to a fixed embosser and win the looming lawsuit.

-o0o-

Peter blinked as the scream of sirens outside pulled him out from his deep concentration.

Ambulance sirens, two cops, a firetruck...

He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. The time on the oven read nearly midnight and the embosser on his table was just a few screws left of being repaired.

Or, temporarily repaired. Repaired enough to print Mr Murdock's notes and give Peter time to scramble for something to replace the bit's that'll inevitably break again the next time Mr Murdock needed things printed.

The sirens traveled away from him, angry and wailing. They were traveling deeper into Hell's Kitchen, and he desperately scolded himself before his curiosity could even bubble up and wonder where they were going.

Unfortunately, pushing down that curiosity just made him remember the sounds of the sirens that followed May's death...

Maybe he should take a break. Get out of Hell's Kitchen and punch some bad guys. He could tell Mr Murdock he stopped working on the embosser to sleep, so he didn't need to worry about getting paid more than what he could stomach.

The decision was easily made. He noted the time, determined to not get paid for this hour, then scrambled for the suit that he'd stuffed inside his bag.

-o0o-

The fact that it felt good to deck someone across the face probably should have worried Peter, but he felt too good to think about it.

This was doing something. Peter Parker found himself inexplicably erased, trapped in an ocean of isolation, drowning in lies that he couldn't even begin to tell the truth about. But Spider-Man? That guy didn't have to worry about that. That guy could make a difference—a memorable difference—every night. Every victim he helped.

It was a run-of-the-mill theft. Some old man had decided nighttime was the perfect time for a stroll, and some younger spry had thought it was the perfect opportunity to get himself a few extra dollars. The thief had been aggressive, not gun aggressive, knife aggressive, and Spider-Man couldn't have that.

"Woah, dude, watch where you're stabbing that thing, could take an eye out!"

A duck-and-weave around the swinging knife was all it took for Peter to close in. The tense of his arm was familiar, and the impact of his fist was true. He wasn't the best trained at knife-to-hand combat, but most of his problems could just be solved by being really hard to hit combined with the fact he had a bit more strength to use than everyone else.

The thief cried out, crashing back onto his backside and unwittingly throwing his knife to the side in favor of grabbing his smarting jaw.

Something, somewhere deep down, was disappointed that the fight wouldn't last more than a single duck-weave-punch, though the majority of Peter felt pleased with himself. He webbed up the jerk, grabbed the snatched wallet, then returned it to the grateful old man with a smile that creased the eye lenses of his mask.

"Thank you so much," the old man said, shaking Peter's hand. "You're that spider kid, aren't you?"

"Spider-Man," Peter corrected—that something somewhere wincing a bit.

Peter was erased. Spider-Man wasn't. Not all the way. People still knew Spider-Man. J. Jonah Jameson still ranted about him on the news. People recognized the colors he wore, and people tended to thank him by his superhero name.

The only thing about Spider-Man that got torn up by the fabric of the universe was Peter. Anyone who had known him as both identities no longer did, every interaction with Peter being replaced by unnameable recognition or a complete lack of memory in the first place. To what extent? Peter had no idea. He hadn't tried to seek anyone out who had known him as both, well, besides Mr Murdock, but that wasn't exactly on purpose. He also didn't count visiting MJ’s workplace that one time.

Besides, if Mr Murdock was anything to go by, anyone who worked with Spider-Man mask-off didn't remember a single conversation; wrapped up in a mystery of how they knew May Parker that they'll never get the answers to.

He wasn't going to try and see if MJ or Ned or Happy or Doctor Strange were any different.

Besides, he had no idea what would happen if he did regain a relationship with these people. Would the fabric of reality tear itself apart again? He'd love nothing more than to see Peter 2 and 3 again, but he couldn't risk their villains following them through again. What if they came for Peter 1 again? What if they went after his home, blew up the complex, and killed Mr Murdock in the process? What if they went after MJ? Ned? What if Doctor Strange couldn't fix it next time?

He squished that something somewhere further down, refusing to follow those thoughts deeper while he was literally shaking the hand of someone he'd just saved.

Feeling forcefully light and happy, Spider-Man swung through familiar neighborhoods, wishing just a little that he could take off the mask and feel the wind go through his hair. When he passed the busy streets, people pointed up and called out in excitement; when he passed over shady alleyways, shady people quickly split off. Sometimes, his presence was the only thing needed to discourage crime. It made him feel great, like Batman or something. Batman if he was cool and had a great sense of humor.

The night passed on, and almost nothing went wrong. No pooches were screwed. It was nearing sunrise and the semblance of rush hour had begun with the first few cars. He mentally planned the path back to his apartment. He almost got on that, until something shouted at him to stop.

He had already been stopped, mind you, standing awkwardly in a quiet alleyway looking at the street names because none of the buildings nearby were big enough to get a great enough view of the city. But his senses still went off, and someone authoritative commanded him to stop, and something clicked that sounded suspiciously like the safety on a pistol.

He swiveled his body around, frowning at the sight of the cop that stood at the other end of the alleyway, knees shaking and face twisted in confliction.

Uh. Okay? Peter wasn't exactly new to cops showing aggression to him. He had plenty pull their weapons on him at the beginning of his superhero career, and plenty more after Mysterio outed him and accused him of his murder.

But when he had joined the Avengers and fought Thanos... cops didn't do that. He was above their pay-grade, the FBI tended to want to deal with Spider-Man instead, but couldn't because of the mountains of paperwork they'd have to go through. The mountains of paperwork Mr Stark had made himself to make sure no national or international forces could get to him unless he committed an actual crime. Sure, yeah, the Mysterio stuff was an actual crime in their eyes and got Peter in alotta trouble, but after erasing his identity, everyone had gone back to not bothering him.

"Uh, you okay, officer?" He asked.

"Spider-Man," the cop said, a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, and Peter frowned deeper as the cop didn't even really talk to him there. He had one hand on the pointed gun, the other at the walk-y at his jugular. "It's Spider-Man."

Peter took a step forward and the cop freaked. "Hands up! Get down on your knees! Y-You're under arrest."

The cop really didn't sound like he wanted to be saying those words.

"I'm sorry? What did I do?" Peter slowly got down on his knees, not quite willing to freak out the cop more yet but confident he could swing away if anything escalated as they often did with freaked out cops.

"We have a warrant for your arrest," the officer said, not approaching, he was afraid to. Peter stayed silent and still, the information hitting him in the gut.

But... but the police couldn't arrest him? They didn't have a reason to?

The cop returned to his walk-y, asking for backup, telling his location.

"What are the accusations?" Peter asked, fighting to keep his voice steady. "I'm protected, you have to have a reason."

"Orders from above," the cop said, "I don't know any more... I'm sorry. All the stations across the city have been ordered to take you in."

Well, at least the cop genuinely sounded sorry.

"Orders from who?"

"Some DODC agent," the cop said, his fingers trembling.

Alright.

He heard sirens in the distance and Peter made the quick decision that he should probably scatter; he really didn't fancy getting arrested to sate his curiosity.

He whipped his arm out, shooting with superhuman accuracy to knock the cop's gun out of his hand and stick it to a nearby wall. The man started shouting, hassling to pull out some other weapon, but Peter was already swinging away, his heart to his throat.

-o0o-

Peter's leg bounced as he sat at his kitchen table, staring at the TV as JJJ happily announced that Spider-Man had refused a warrant for his arrest just hours before, which was obvious proof of his criminal and dangerous behavior.

He was going on and on, clearly very happy with the development, and Peter would love nothing more than to turn off the TV and have a very big panic attack, but before JJJ started talking, they had announced that some agent was going to guest on the broadcast and explain more of the situation.

It took fifteen minutes for JJJ to invite the agent on, and when he did, Peter's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

P. Cleary.

"Fu-"

-o0o-

"I can say for everybody that it's about damn time the DODC is taking actions against that masked menace."

"Spider-Man has been going under the radar for too long," the agent replied. Cleary. Jameson had introduced the agent a few minutes before. Matt wished he had some sort of visual description of the guy, he sounded like an asshole and he was willing to bet his nicest cane that he looked like one too. "While the Sokovia Accords have been repealed, order is still required when dealing with enhanced individuals. Spider-Man has been protected under the good will of Tony Stark, which at the time, was all the we needed to allow Spider-Man the freedom to remain anonymous in his work even after Stark's death. However, in light of recent incidents at the London Bridge as well as the Statue of Liberty, that protection has been called into question. After an investigation, we've found that the protection documents from Tony Stark granting Spider-man's right to be a vigilante as well as work with the Avengers have been... corrupted.

"Until we can meet with Spider-Man or a credible source that can vouch for him to redraft his order of protection, we regret to announce to the public that Spider-Man is to be considered dangerous, and should be avoided. His recent interaction with a local officer—attacking the officer and resisting arrest—proves that what we're doing is for the safety of the people."

"And why would you announce this great news on the Daily Fix?"

Cleary shifted. Forgive him Lord, but Christ on a cross this guy radiated smugness even through the television waves. It's a good thing Matt hadn't caught the attention of the DODC, people tended to look at louder vigilante's before they set their sights on Hell's Kitchen.

"To send Spider-Man a message before things get more messy for him. Spider-Man, turn yourself in, make this easy for everyone. We just want to get to the bottom of things, and the more you resist, the messier things will get—"

A voice message from Peter vibrated his phone, pulling his attention from his morning routine. Sure, listening to the news while drinking caffeine wasn't exactly the best routine for his anxiety, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do to keep sane. He navigated his phone to click play on the message, a frown working its way onto his lips.

"Hey Matt, it's Peter, uh, Parker, you gave me your number earlier? I'm just letting you know I finished your embosser and I can give it back whenever. Just so you know I only worked on it for, like, five hours—hah—but you really don't have to pay me or anything. It's okay, like seriously. Anyways just let me know when you're free, or pop by whenever, or, uhm, whatever. Thanks, kay, bye. Yeah."

Well that would have lifted his spirits if Peter didn't sound like he was trying not to cry that entire message. Faintly, he could hear the very same Daily Fix broadcast in the background of the message as he replayed it and listened just a little harder.

Concern filtered into Matt's brain, creasing his eyebrows and the smell of his coffee no longer soothed his wretched soul. He broadened his senses, finding Peter in his studio, heart racing, more than normal, and breath barely under control.

"Stupid," he was whispering to himself, "what if he actually comes down?! Stupid-"

Matt sighed, standing up and abandoning his coffee before turning off the TV. The guest agent had left already. He wanted to hear more about Spider-Man, the name struck familiarity to him in a way he couldn't put his finger on, but the kid downstairs demanded his attention a little more.

He definitely sounded like he needed a friend.

He grabbed his glasses, cane, jacket, enough cash for seven hours of pay, and sent Peter a message announcing that he'll be down soon. Peter received it, took a deep breath, turned off the TV, and wiped—by the sound of it combined with a salty smell—tears from his eyes and cheeks.

Lord, give Matt strength.

[wizardologys]

I’m cynical of AI and its training models, to be clear. On the spectrum of pro-AI versus anti-AI I fall much much much more on anti-AI. I just think some arguments against AI are silly like the water thing. What’s not silly? Criticisms of irresponsible training models.

Like I DON’T agree with that post I rb’ed, even though it makes an interesting point.

If you want something snappy to hear, I’m inclined to say that I believe in the IPs of PEOPLE, but I don’t believe in the IPs of companies. That’s oversimplification, but I still think there is a line to be drawn here. Even though I don’t think it should be an enforceable law, I certainly think there should be social consequences.

Put more in detail, if you post a clip from Disney without permission, everyone still knows that is Disney. People can easily find the movie it’s from and the animators if they’re inclined. People are not watching that clip instead of the movie. No one is losing money.

If you post a piece of art from a relatively obscure artist without credit, even if you don’t pass it off as your own, people are looking at this reposted version instead of supporting the artist. You can reverse-image search for the actual artists, but unlike Disney, it’s not clear who the real original creator is. There’s also a fair chance you will reverse image search it and see a bunch of reposted versions of it on Pinterest or whatever instead of the original. You are directly harming that artist and potentially robbing them of their livelihood.

On the point of the internet archive, most of what is on the internet archive has at least some information about where it came from. AI cannot provide that, unless you can provide a bank of everything used in its training model, which I think is a good solution. Using a bank of info to train the AI that creators have AGREED to provide, preferably for MONEY.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Unfinished Sentences

A Ben Mendelsohn fic.

Summary: You’re a actor who’s known for your indie work, but when you get a job working for on Secret Invasion with Ben Mendelsohn as your partner in crime, things may get complicated.

Story Masterlist

Chapter 1

You were pretty happy with where you were in your life, having just wrapped on filming another project, you were about to head into the promotion period for Marvel. You had been told how gruelling it could be, but you were partnered up with your partner in crime, Ben Mendelsohn. So, at least it would be fun.

    Before you entered into the booth where you would conduct your routine set of interviews, you looked over at Ben dressed in his smart navy jacket and light blue shirt, and took a moment to remember where all this began.

 Shooting the show was great, the people were kind and generous and they loved what they did. You were loving the opportunity to try something different, and it was certainly different from all the indies you’d previously worked in.

    In fact, it was an indie film that had Kyle Bradstreet, the creator, looking in your direction in the first place. A quirky little comedy about two people who get high and, with surprising success, rob a bank. You’d taken the film to Toronto a couple of years earlier where you ran into Ben for the first time. He was complimentary about the project, saying how much fun it was as an entertainment piece, which was exactly what you hoped it would be, nothing serious, just some fun.

    When Marvel called only a couple of days later, you were told so little, but suspected your new Australian friend may have been talking you up to the producers. You’d gotten used to that by now, that’s how it all worked, you have one good conversation with one person and everything you ever wanted could happen, the hard part was proving your worth, and you certainly intended to do just that.

    The character you played interacted with Talos a lot, so much of your down time was spent listen to Mendo talk about music, Australia, his family and, honestly some weird shit… a lot of weird shit came out of that man’s mouth. But you loved it, he was eccentric and fun and playful and most importantly, he was kind. He had a wicked wit that you found yourself adding to every chance you got. Your relationship was one people almost came to hate, when you two were together, you were unstoppable.

    Your favourite jokes had been the ones where Mendo would come in first thing in the morning, say something in jest to you quietly in the make up trailer, and you’d spend all day laughing about the little references made to it.

    When it was over you hugged everyone and both yourself and Mendo were on the verge of tears, you’d never have another experience like this, probably not get another opportunity to work with him again and the chances of seeing each other regularly were slim at best. This was it.

    You’d come into the make up trailer that morning and there were no jokes immediately. You looked at each other and Mendo got up to hug you.

    ‘Alright my Angel.’ He said, quietly, a nickname he’d come up with when he realised you were just as filthy as he was. ‘It’s going to be a good day, we’ll get through, don’t you worry about that.’

    ‘Fuck, this is going to be hard.’ I sniffed, trying not to cry.

    Mendo pulled back shaking his head. ‘Nah, easy part is the work, we’ll do the hard part at the end.’ He stroked your hair, affectionately as he sometimes did, and you appreciated it.

    The day really was hard, every scene you had with Mendo was another reminder of how you would never get this lucky again. At lunch you sat together, Sam and Olivia were chatting away as they often did when you two sat like naughty school children in the back of a class.

    You suddenly remembered something and looked at Mendo, about to tell him for the sake of having any conversation that wasn’t about work, but immediately stopped yourself; that was a bad idea under any circumstance.

    ‘What?’ He asked, noticing something was on your mind.

    ‘Nothing, don’t worry about it.’ You brushed it off.

    ‘Oh, you’re going red.’ He smiled that wicked smile. ‘You were going to say something dirty. Now you have to tell me.’ As loud as this guy could be, you appreciated he was being quiet at that moment.

    You folded your arms, knowing full well that he would not give up until you told him. ‘Okay, but you cannot make fun of me.’

    ‘I wouldn’t dare.’ He promised, eagerly awaiting your response.

    ‘I had a dream about you last night.’ You got it all out in one go.

    ‘Oh really?’ His blue eyes widened, and his wicked smile became uncontrollable. ‘A dirty dream?’

    ‘Well, obviously.’ You could feel your face aching with how red it was.

    ‘Was I good?’ He teased you, as he often did.

    ‘Bro, it was my fantasy, of course you were.’ You told him, making him cackle and deciding to own it instead of getting embarrassed by it. ‘But it wasn’t just you.’

    Mendo frowned.

    ‘Jason Sudeikis was there as well.’

    ‘Okay well that’s just ruined everything.’

    ‘Oh believe me, it was an improvement on some things.’ You joked, making him laugh that boyish laugh he had.

    You were called pretty soon after for a scene, but you kept catching his eye and it made you both laugh. The whole cast and crew were used to it by now, they probably thought you were just giddy and laughing at nothing, but that so rarely was the case. You had so many inside jokes and secret laughs that you lost count after a while. You’d miss this.

    After you’d wrapped for the day and everyone had their moment to say goodbye, you all decided to grab a drink in the hotel bar. You’d gotten used to hotel stays, not living in London yourself, it was nice to see the city from a new light.

    Mendo had positioned himself next to you all night, no one thinking it that unusual, but you could feel a shift in the air, unsure of what it was exactly.

    The night rolled on, drinks were ordered, shots consumed. You were basically drunk, but sober enough to know when to stop. Sam was telling one of his wild stories from working with Tarantino, but you were struggling to stay upright.

    ‘I think I’m going to call it a night.’ You said, mostly to Mendo as everyone else was engrossed in the story. ‘I need my bed.’

    ‘You want some company?’ He asked, teasingly, making you hold in a laugh, but you could tell from his expression he half meant it. You needed to get out before it became awkward.

    He got up to have a smoke outside, again not an unusual thing for him to do, but you decided to make a quick escape to stop yourself thinking anymore filthy thoughts about your friend. It just wasn’t appropriate, and you didn’t want to ruin the good relationship you had with him.

    ‘Goodnight, guys.’ You said and everyone stood up to hug you.

    ‘Pleasure working with you, Y/N.’ Sam said as he hugged me. ‘Call if you’re ever over my way, and I mean it, it’d be good to see you again.’

    ‘I will.’ You promised, half laughing to yourself about how lucky you’d gotten to be able to call Samuel L. Jackson a friend.

    You made your way to the lift and ran into Mendo coming back in on your way.

    ‘Making a sneaky escape?’ He asked, jokingly.

    ‘Yeah, I’m trying to get away from this guy who I dreamt about.’ You made him giggle. ‘God, he was an absolute machine in my head, but it’d never work out in reality.’

    ‘And why’s that?’ He bit his lip, trying to contain his laugh.

    You don’t know what came over you, but all the joking went away, and you decided to be honest. ‘Because I love him too much to ruin what we have.’ You watched him face take in yours, he sighed, nodding. ‘Fuck, I’m going to miss you, Ben.’

    ‘I’m gonna miss you too.’ He let a heavy breath go. ‘Can I walk you to your room? I promise I won’t joke about it anymore.’

    ‘Sure.’ You shrugged.

    You didn’t really want to leave him just yet, you made a friend for life and you didn’t know how you were going to function not seeing him every day.

    Mendo pushed the button for the lift, he was always a gentleman when he got the chance to be. You loved that about him, always a jokester but a big heart that surfaced occasionally. It was late enough that you ended up being the only two inside. You pushed the button to your floor and sighed, leaning back.

    ‘Fuck, my head is spinning.’ You said, trying to take deep breaths and stop the alcohol ruining any chance you had at making it to your room.

    ‘You’re okay, just keep breathing slowly.’ Mendo put his arm around you for support, making sure you didn’t collapse. You could smell him, that familiar cologne he wore, there wasn’t anything special about it, just that he was the one who wore it. He kissed the top of your head and sighed. ‘I’m gonna miss you so much.’ He whispered.

    ‘You already said that.’ You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his waist, getting comfortable.

    ‘Yeah…’ he said, with no clear end to the sentence.

    The lift arrived at your floor, and it took a moment for you to unwrap yourself from around his body. You were a little more unsteady than you thought, making him giggle behind you.

    ‘Take your shoes off, it might help.’ He chuckled.

    ‘You’re a genius.’ You could feel your throat drying as you bent down to remove your heels, they weren’t that high, but walking bare foot made things so much easier.

    ‘Do you want some help?’ He couldn’t stop giggling at you leaning against the wall.

    You tried to straighten yourself up and took a deep breath. He always brightened your mood and made you silly.

    ‘You can carry my shoes.’ You said it pretending to be an entitled arsehole and it only and whim laugh harder.

    ‘Your majesty,’ Mendo bowed theatrically. ‘It would be the greatest of honours to carry your shoes.’ He placed his hands out to take your shoes and you placed them in the middle of his palms, sauntering away towards your room.

    You turned back to see his eyes suddenly darting up to yours.

    ‘Sir, I believe you were checking me out.’ You teased, but it was his turn to go red, try not to smile and give himself away.

    ‘Sorry.’ He really did seem apologetic.

    ‘It’s okay, you were doing a lot more than that in my dream.’ You winked, watching him place his hand on the wall next to your door, his breathing was definitely heavier, and his jaw clenched for a moment.

    ‘Are you sure you don’t want your dream to come true?’ He asked, half meaning it.

    For a long moment, you screamed yes inside your head. You couldn’t imagine anything better than spending a night laughing with this man while he did unspeakably good things to you. You had a good feeling it wouldn’t be awkward either, you knew each other well enough that you would simply give in and go with the flow. You knew it would be good.

    You cleared your throat, putting your key card into the slot to open the door. He hadn’t stopped staring at you with his beautiful blue eyes, they were mesmerising.

    ‘I think it’s best we don’t.’ You finally said.

    He half smiled in disappointment, looking down at the ground for a second, before looking up.

    ‘That seemed to take a long time for you to say.’ He pointed out.

    ‘Yeah…’ You said, not really sure of where the sentence was going. ‘It was a lot to think about.’

    Ben nodded, still watching your face for any sign of you changing your mind. You weren’t sober enough to be able to control where your eyes were being drawn to. You scanned his handsome face, taking in everything, finally stopping on his lips, before drawing your gaze back up to his now very dark eyes.

    The sound of your shoes being tossed into your room was what drew you to the reality of the situation you found yourself in. His hand brushed the side of your waist, making you gasp from the contact, his other hand gently brushed your hair behind your ear and there was no stopping any of this now.

    You gently pulled him into your dimly lit hotel room, he guided you against a nearby wall and stopped just millimetres from your mouth. You could feel each other's breath, you held the lapels of his jacket tightly, silently begging for the contact.

    ‘Ben.’ You breathed.

    His lips grazed yours and it wasn’t nearly enough of what you needed. You listened to him sigh with relief, before sinking down into a surprisingly affectionate kiss. Where your dream had been hot and heavy, this was gentle and affectionate, like he was trying to say something words couldn’t express.

    You felt him pouring into you, his quiet hums of satisfaction were to die for, his scent was intoxicating and all consuming. You remembered vividly in your dream where things went from there, you remembered the image of him on his knees for you and groaned at the thought that his mouth could work this way somewhere else. Fuck, he was beautiful.

    You felt his hand wrap around your body, pulling you flush against him, his lips gliding over yours, teasing the notion of descending to your neck, but he never went that far.

    Suddenly he brought everything to a slow, his lips placed lazy kisses against yours and his hands loosened their grip around your body.

    ‘I’m sorry.’ He whispered. ‘I don’t want to do it like this.’

    You frowned, still feeling his mouth against you. ‘Like what?’

    Ben brought both of his hands up to your face, gently stroking his thumbs across your cheeks. He kissed you again.

    ‘Can I say goodbye to you in the morning?’ He asked. You weren’t sure what the question meant. ‘I don’t want to leave things on an awkward note.’

    ‘Sure.’ You nodded, still craving more of his kisses.

    He sank once more into you, before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours, finally the whisper of a smile appeared.

    ‘You think you could let me go?’ He asked, trying not to laugh. It was only then you realised you were still holding onto his lapels.

    ‘Oh, sorry.’ You suddenly let go.

    ‘It’s okay.’ Ben shook his head. ‘If I’d been another drink down, I might not have asked.’ He made you chuckle with him. ‘Goodnight, Angel.’

    He gently placed one last kiss to your lips before leaving your hotel room. You slid down the wall and asked yourself: what just happened?

  If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[stxrfallx]

starter for @araneaignis spider-man

❝ Well, I certainly didn’t expect you to be here this soon, Spidey ❞

She’s robbing a bank yet again and he caught her, oh boy. Amused smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, indicating she wasn’t scared like most thugs would have been, she simply found this situation amusing.

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the comics: Starting the Collection (Issue 3)

Moon Knight, Issue #3:  Midnight Means Murder. 

Written by Doug Moench and drawn by Bill Sienkiewicz

YES. BACK IN IT WITH BILL AND DOUG! 

I don’t know WHY I didn’t do this one in my first plans? Why the hell did I skip Midnight man? I covered his return, but his initial issue? I can’t explain past me to you. 

So here we are, back at the beginning. Issue number three! And we see Moon Knight’s FIRST big deal. It’s his first big villain (I don’t count Bushman. I’ll explain that later) that also reoccurs. 

The title page? 

We open on a splash of the Daily Bugel. 

And boy howdy is thi creative or what? And what makes me even happier? You can actually read the paper! You'll have to pardon me as I take you through it. I love when writers actually take the time to put something worth while in little newspaper clippings like this.

Saturday, May 3 1980. A nice picture of Moon Knight beating up two bank robbers and a mystery picture of someone robbing a museum. 

"They even list Doub Moench as the "Staff Writer" and give photographer credit to Bill Sienkiewicz. 

"ANOTHER LUNA NIGHT. "

"The third national bank was robbed last night, but only up to a point. 

That point was roughly three steps beyond the entrance of the defiled bank, located at the southwest corner of Madison Avenue and 89th Street, where the two armed desperadoes were abruptly assailed by a silver and black hurricane named Moon Knight. 

As far as the costumed vigilante is concerned, the hurricane analogy is more than apt. According to the sole eyewitness, the admittedly groggy night watchman (who had been struck on the head by ne of the would-be thieves), "The guy just seemed to come out of the sky like some kind of silver ghost, and then the two robbers were on the pavement. I never seen nothing like it before." 

As for the battered thugs (whose names are being withheld pending further investigation), one supposes they never knew what hit them. Long before the police arrived the Moon Knight had vanished, leaving behind only his silver crescent-dart 'calling card'--with the foiled thieves and recovered loot in the care of the night watchman. When this writer last checked the blotter, the two new prisoners were still peacefully dreaming of sweet green and all it can buy. A rude awakening of striped shadows and iron bars awaits them. 

And speaking of shadows, Manhattanites have never been more spooked by them, despite the relentless presence of the Moon Knight, if not the police. This was the 23rd night of New York's latest uninterrupted crime wave. And although Moon Knight has figured prominently (and spectacularly) in 19 of the past 23 nights, the jet nad silver whirlwind has yet to tangle with the most celebrated miscreant currently about town--he who has been dubbed "the Midnight Man," a thief with taste and the fall to appease it nightly in all the better parts of an outraged town. Even a hurricane, it seems, cannot strike everywhere. Even so, nor can one turn back the tide of the inevitable. Like the moon and midnight, these two mysterious men go together. And sooner or later, one suspects walking through the plastered shadows of this nighted city, their paths are destined to cross, and clash. It is only a matter of time, measured by the darkness between midnights." 

He certainly does play up Moon Knight a lot, doesn't he? Doug is just so super proud of his boy. 

And it also reminds me that Moon Knight's outfit was originally silver, not white. It was supposed to give him a leg-up against the werewolf, Jack Russel. 

The other article "Midnight Man Strikes Again" talks about 'the connoisseur art thief' that has burgled a rare Monet oil painting. He has also been taunting the police by mail. The latest note being a taunt to anyone that dares try to stop him, "including that gaudy buffoon Moon Knight," Especially "now that I've amply demonstrated that the police are no match for my cunning or finesse." 

ANYWAYS. I thought it was a good title page. 

We open on Moon Knight stopping a Saturday night mugging. 

I also love how Moon Knight insults people. “Turkey”.

We continue on, Midnights of missing art. 

We also see Moon Knight stopping various other crimes. 

"Tuesday morning at Grant Mansion--where one man lives under many names... Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley, and Moon Knight, among others." 

We find Steven working out with Marlene. 

"Morning, Delilah." 

"Nedda will have breakfast ready in twenty minutes." 

"Okay, Marlene--Just let me hit the bag a few minutes and then I'll take my steam bath." 

"As you wish, Steven... But in case you haven't noticed, I'm waiting with bated breath. Who are you today?" 

"Huh?" 

"What clothes do you want?" 

"Oh--Give me Lockley's." 

"Why Lockley?" 

"Thought I'd sniff out a little scandal, and Lockley's got the best nose--or at least the best connections." 

Ahh... Issue 3. Absolute denial country. 

Look at this man. He goes from prim proper Steven Grant to complete Jake Lockley in the comfort of his own home. It's...It's beautiful. 

"And so, at breakfast..." 

LOOK AT THIS MAN. (He doesn’t get his trademark mustache till a later issue). 

Jake, where are you manners? How are you sitting like that? 

I also adore how Jake always addresses Marlene as “Lady”. Like he refuses to acknowledge that they are an item. She’s just a lady that he has to live with because Marc and Steven have an eye for her. 

And look at poor Nedda in the background. 

Anyways, Marlene calls Jake on wanting to go after the Midnight man. 

"You can't bluff me, Mister--You're going after this 'Midnight Man'." 

"He's goading me Marlene, playing Jack the Ripper with these taunting letters in the paper." 

"But he's NOT the ripper--He's just a common, if clever thief." 

"So who ever claimed thieves were beneath me, Lady?" 

"That's not what I mean. I just worry sometimes. You're too eager to accept challenges. 

Besides, have you forgotten the charity bash you're hosting tonight? There's plenty to do around here as Steven Grant." 

"I'll be back in time. How long does it take to shuck Lockley's rags and shrug into Grant's tux?

And don't worry about me so much---You're forgetting who I am." 

Oh? And WHO are you, Jake buddy? (I prod because at this point Jake has not figured out who he is. Early Moon Knight was in so much denial). 

"It's easy to do, dear Steven--Excuse me, dear JAKE. You've got so many different names, identities, and moods, even YOU forget who you are half the time." 

DING DING. See. Marlene gets it. She hates it and pretends she doesn't... But she does get it. I get frustrated with Marlene with the amount rejection Marlene has over the whole system. She has her mind set on the whole "He's a mess but I can fix him" thing. ANd in her mind, fixing him is making Steven the only person in that head and settling down with her. 

What does Jake have to say about that? 

"Makes life interesting, Lady--Too boring being just one character. Maybe I should've been an actor. After all, all life's a stage." 

Jake my buddy my pal my good friend Jake… 

1980s everyone… 

Outside the mansion we find Samules, the butler. He's got Jake's cab ready for him. 

"Really, sir, don't you think this...ah, vehicle could use a washing once in a--" 

"Part of my disguise, Samules, the dirt is--Gotta look like a real New York cabbie in a real new york cab." 

"Very well, sir--But I do wish you'd make up your mind one of these days. Polish the mercedes and peel the cab's paint--Press the suit and rumble the jeans--Oh dear." 

Poor Samules. 

Jake tells him to go alert Frenchie to give the chopper a once-over. 

Samules heads up to the roof to meet with Frenchie. 

He finds the chopper alone with no Frenchie in sight. 

I miss Samules. 

I love that he makes the helicopter go "vroom vroom". 

And I love that Frenchie thinks this is cute and calls him the "Daring air-ace". 

He offers Samuels a 'little...ride' 

"Certainly not! It... It's undignified for a man of my...My--" 

"Oui, Samuels. I understand. But we can all dream, no?" 

....And in re-reading this I am faced with the fact that this could 100% have all been euphemisms and Frenchie legit hitting on Samuels. I doubt very much Moench wrote it that way on purpose... But then again... He was very sneaky and found ways to get away with things that were 'forbidden' to put in comics at this time... 

(Marvel Editor and Chief at the time, Shooter, was notoriously homophobic and banned the portrayal of gay characters in the comics. Doug and many other writers had a HUGE problem with this.) 

We find outselves next at Gena's! Jake's got a box as he heads on in. 

"After cruisin' all day with no luck, guess it's time to try old reliable..." 

"Hey, Gena--How's the kids?" 

He always asks her about the kids. Always. 

Jake turns to Crawley and hands him the box. 

If you’ll excuse me… I’m going to go sob and hug 1980s Moench Jake Lockley. I’ve missed him so much. 

He knows his people and he loves his people. 

Crawley dishes it out to Jake. 

He hasn't heard anything but there are some guys over at the pool hall across the way that might know more. 

Crawley escorts Jake over and they get the cold shoulder from the gys. They claim they haven't heard anything and get a little menacing about it. 

Jake tells them that "if anyone has a memory attack, I'll be out in the alley in fifteen minutes." 

He slips out, leaving Crawley to talk to the guys alone. 

They ask Crawley if Jake's a cop. 

"Certainly NOT. I keep company in a higher social stratum than THAT." 

He tells them Jake pays very well for good info and it would do them good to get in with that standing. 

The guys head outside with intent to rob Jake. 

Unfortunately for them, someone else is waiting. 

Moon Knight says don’t rob Jake. That’s rude. 

Moon Knight asks nicely where the Midnight man fences his loot. 

The remaining conscious man tells him that Midnight Man DOESN'T fence it. He keeps it! 

"B-But the word is... He... He's gonna take you on tonight..." 

He thanks the man for the info. 

I must say... No one really appreciates that Moon Knight really does have a witty sense of humor. He amuses himself and he's just a goof. 

Jake rushes back to Steven’s party. 

"You're late, Steven--Or is it still Jake?" Marlene greets them back at the mansion. 

"Nope---Jake Lockley has just retired for the evening, my dear Marlene. As of right now, I'm Steven Grant, prominent multi-millionaire and suave host of charity fund-raisers." 

"Then hurry and get dressed, Schizo." 

Yeah.... That's Marlene. I've said it before, but at this point in age, D.I.D was not widely known about and didn't really have a diagnosis or name. MPD (multiple Personality DIsorder) was also not really clarified at that time and everything was still classified under the all encompassing branch of "Schizophrenia". ...However, Schizo had become an insult used to describe anyone with any unpleasant or abnormal behavior. 

Marlene continues to chastise him telling him that the guests will be arriving and "Chances are they'd appreciate a brief appearance by the host." 

Narration: "Steven Grant suppresses a Lockley grin... Gaining full control of his new Persona some thirty minutes later..." 

I love this. Jake's got a sense of humor and is playful and mischievous. The idea of upsetting Marlene and missing the shindig all together appeals to Jake. He hates these fancy parties. And it takes 30 minutes for Steven to do a full switch out. This is actually a fantastic approach to DID and is probably the most accurate portrayal in Moon Knight you're going to get. 

At the party, Marlene introduces Steven to the people. 

"And now if I may have your attention, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to present the host of the benefit, and the best boss I've ever had--indeed, the best of many bosses I've got right NOW--Steven Grant." 

Clever Marlene. 

Steven certainly didn't miss that little jab. 

"Flirty with danger, aren't you, darling?" 

Steven gives a very very short speech then starts to mingle. 

He meets up with one Anton Mogart (that name should ring a bell or two). 

He offers Steven his card. He's an art collector. He asks to speak to Steven privately. 

Steven has a few paintings but admits to be just a dabbler of art. "One must do something with one's money and walls, and somehow---George Washington wallpaper is just a trifle gauche." 

LOL Steven... 

Mogart admits he's a bit worried, and this is why he wanted to speak to Steven. 

"I understand an acquaintance of yours happens to be a soldier-of-fortune named Marc Spector, who contracts for certain...ah, dangerous undertakings." 

"You've done your homework, Mogart. What sort of contract do you have in mind?" 

"Protecting some paintings from imminent theft--by the Midnight Man. The fee would be, let us say, $100,000. These canvases, you see, are valuable." 

Mogart claims to have gotten a direct letter from the Midnight Man saying that he was coming for his paintings tonight. 

Steven agrees, saying "Spector owes me a favor. I'll subcontract the job in his behalf--" 

Steven even tells him that he doesn't want cash, but would like a new piece of art for his wall where there is an empty space. (this will come back later) 

Steven heads back to the Gala and tells Marlene that he needs to go. She protests but he tells her "I just got invited to a better party. Fill in for me." 

Frenchie….What are you reading. What is this ‘action’ you are talking about? 

They head to Anton Mogart's home in Jersey. Frenchie asks if it's a trap. 

Moon Knight notes it might be worse than a trap. 

Once they reach the house, he jumps from the copter and sneaks into the house through the window (for once he doesn't crash through it and I am sad to not have to add a tally to my chart). 

And we are treated to one of my favorite renditions of Moon Knight ever.

The lights come on and Midnight Man is there waiting for him. 

While Midnight Man had no fear of the police, he did worry that Moon Knight would stop him sooner or later, so he decided to force his hand and make it sooner. 

Pulling out a gun, he intends to kill Moon Knight so he can carry on with his robberies. 

Moon Knight flings his truncheon at the light, plunging them into darkness. 

He hides in the shadows (not easy to do when you have an outfit made out of SILVER) and then wails on Midnight Man a little. 

Which... To be fair to Midnight Man, heis a thief and NOT a fighter. 

Then again…

LOL Moon Knight really? 

They get off the elevator and Mogart pulls a dagger. 

They crash out the window (this does not count for dramatic window crash because they are leaving and Moon Knight didn't make this choice.) 

He slips on glass and ends up on the ground as usual. He spends a lot of time on the ground. 

Mogart takes advantage and prepares to stab him when…

Marlene shows up randomly to straight up murder a dude. 

Moon Knight tries to save him but Mogart plunges to the water below. 

“That really wasn’t necessary, Marlene–I would have stopped him. Besides, I rather liked the man… He was….Refreshingly psychotic.” 

This is what I love about Moon Knight and is something that continues throughout the Moench run and even pops up in later runs then comes back in MacKay’s run. 

Moon Knight genuinely grows attached to his villains. He cares about them and enjoys them. We see this again in Stained Glass Scarlet. In other runs, he tends to pick small time villains and just harass the hell out of them (See Eightball in MacKay’s run). They aren’t big time hitters. They barely muster enough gusto to be considered villains. Yet he comes after them as if they were big time villains. He even enjoys it. And you know what? I think it actually helps them. He knows their real names. He knows their trademarks. He recognises them right off the bat. They know Moon Knight’s watching them. They consider robbing a bank but see Moon Knight’s shadow and go “Nawh.” and go home. 

You know what else? He treats them with respect. Where as say, Wolverine, wouldn’t bat an eye and waste time on such small petty crooks. But Moon Knight does because he CARES. He cares about the people he’s helping, about doing a good job…

And about the villain. And like with Eightball, sometimes we see that Villain come around and change their lives and do good. Bringing good back into the world. 

So why did he like Mogart? Mogart was honest. He did what he did because he was greedy and wanted to possess things. He wanted to possess beautiful things. He didn’t hurt anyone, though his risks were getting bigger and bigger and were starting to lead to someone getting hurt. He also had a huge ego and did it all for the thrill. 

Marlene urges them to leave before the cops arrive but Moon Knight takes his time. 

Epilogue: 

We see Marlene and Steven going to the art museum. Suddenly, Marlene recognizes some of the pieces. 

The three pictures from before. It’s sort of funny that any time Steven does make large donations that aren’t about just money, he always puts Marc’s name there. The money? That’s Steven. Steven made the money and Steven will organize charities and events. But Marc? Marc’s going to be the one to add to art museums, open soup kitchens, or donate park benches. Is it Marc trying to make up for the things he’s done? Or is it Steven trying to remind Marc that there are good things that can be done in the world that aren’t always about breaking a nose? 

They head back to Grant Mansion. 

Marlene is still confused as to why he gave away the pictures. 

"I learned a lesson from Mogart--Collecting does bad things to the blood. Besides, there's still too much of vagabond Spector in my blood, too little of Collector Grant." 

Marlene asks what he'll do with the blank spot on the wall. 

Steven notes that the police dragged the river and never found a body. No body no death. It’s nice that the comics acknowledge that now and then. 

He's hung up Mogart's opera cape. 

"He'll be back for it someday--He's too much the collector to let it remain at large." 

Marlene tells him that she thinks he's right. 

"You see, my gun has always fired a trifle wide. And with you and Mogart struggling so close together, I couldn't trust it with anything but... Rubber bullets." 

And Mogart DOES return in a later issue and take his cape back. 

But for now, we end the issue! 

And you know what? This was a refreshing issue. It’s the start of Moon Knight’s love of his house of villains. We see an early introduction to Marc, Jake, and Steven starting to dance around one another, we see Marlene not only do her thing of rescuing Moon Knight, but of being the one to struggle to keep their life together. It’s amazing to look back at the start after running through backwards (why do I always do things backwards? Why does it always work?). 

I miss the old classic villains. They've made a point to kill them off over the years. They were dubbed to be too boring or over used or silly. But they had a certain nostalgia to them. Something he knew what to expect and I think they brought comfort to Moon Knight.

"Refreshingly Psychotic." He liked his neurotic villains. Weird and unique and somehow also sad and alone. Perhaps he saw a bit of himself in them. A path that he knows he could have taken. Can you imagine if Marc Spector had become a villain?