Chapter Text
When Matt bursts into the office—through the window, because that’s the kind of shit he does when it’s dark outside—it’s with full Daredevil attire, a wheezing chest, and a grim, alarmed look on his face.
He doesn’t have his helmet on.
Foggy’s at his side in an instant, towel in hand to clean up muck and blood. Karen appears with a first-aid kid. Pete draws the blinds closed, and Quinn turns the lights off, locking the door to the firm. All of it happens in less than ten seconds.
Matt sags against a wall, still trying to catch his breath. The group exchanges a concerned look.
“What’s wrong?” Foggy’s voice is tinged with concern, and Matt reacts to it as he always does to Foggy’s voice—relaxing perceptibly and tilting towards his partner.
“I’m fine,” Matt says first, to the comfort of no one.
“You have blood on your face,” Karen says. It’s true—Matt’s face is dark with crimson and dirt. “Like, a lot of it.”
“It’s not—okay, well, most of it isn’t mine.”
“Was that supposed to be reassuring?” Pete asks, the darkness of the office casting an uncharacteristically serious shadow on his face. His brown hair looks pitch black. “Because no one feels reassured right now.”
“Where’s your helmet?” Quinn adds. It’s dark out, being seven PM in February, but it’s not dark out—there’s still a bit of faint sunlight and New York’s never really too dark at night, with all the streetlights and storefronts. If Matt lost his helmet, it wouldn’t be out of the question that someone might’ve seen him.
Matt stiffens. “That’s the problem.”
Something like dread churns in the air of the office. Hell’s Kitchen is quiet for once—no sounds of uncontrollable traffic in the streets, no one yelling in dark alleyways. As if it was holding its breath.
“What happened?” Quinn asks.
As if on cue, someone knocks on the door of Nelson & Murdock.
Now, Nelson & Murdock technically doesn’t have operating hours. If you checked their place out on Google Maps, you’d… well, first, you wouldn’t find anything, because they aren’t officially registered as a service yet. But if they did have a page, their closing time would probably be around 10 PM.
It’s seven, so a knock is far from odd. But the door is locked and the Closed sign is flipped and the lights are dimmed, and the knocking still doesn’t stop.
“Hello?” a voice comes from outside. “Anyone in there?”
“Who is it?” Karen murmurs under her breath, addressing Matt, whose entire body has gone tense and nervous. “Matt.”
“I—”
“I can hear you!” the voice calls. “I know you’re in there.”
Matt swallows. “Don’t—”
“I got this,” Foggy interrupts. Then, in a soft whisper to Karen, “Keep him out of sight.”
Karen nods. Foggy stalks over to the door, Quinn and Pete flanking him, and throws it open.
“I’m sorry, we’re closed for personal reasons, do drop by sometime tomorrow morning,” Foggy says in a pleasant-enough voice, but with enough hostility to allow no argument.
“Oh, I’m not a potential client,” the guy at the door says. He’s unfamiliar—looking like any other person you might see on the streets. But he’s got a hand in his pocket and his other hand resting casually on the doorframe, as if he owns the place, and all three of them bristle immediately.
“Great.” Foggy makes to close the door. “Then don’t come back at all.”
“I’m looking for Mr. Murdock,” the stranger says. His voice is filled with something smarmy and unpleasant. It’s the voice of a person who wants something.
“He’s not here.”
“Really? Because I just saw him climbing up the wall in a very peculiar red suit, and drop into this window.” The stranger points past the trio, at the large window in Matt’s office.
There’s a pause. A very, very panicked pause. Quinn’s almost sure they can hear Matt’s barely-muted panic attack happening right next door.
“You must be mistaken. That’s not a window. It’s a piece of unique realistic abstract art,” they snap. “We’re busy. Get lost. Matt’s not here.”
“I see you all are very close with Mr. Murdock,” the stranger says, as if it were the conclusion of a Sherlock deduction montage.
“I see you’re insistent on us calling the cops on you.” Pete already has his cell phone out. “Seriously, man. Private times. Personal space. Respect the office hours.”
“I’m sure,” the stranger continues, ignoring Pete entirely, “that means you wouldn’t want his secret getting out, am I right?” His tone is syrupy sweet and mocking, faux-concern dripping from every syllable, as if dying to get a reaction from the three.
And he does get a reaction. Just not the one he expected.
“Oh my god, is he gay?” Foggy says in the most deadpan voice possible.
Quinn puts a hand to their chest. “Thank you for telling us. We’ll be sure to have a meaningful heart-to-heart with him about accepting who he is.”
The stranger sighs. That was a common reaction when confronted with either Foggy, Quinn, or Pete—frankly, it was surprising he lasted this long without giving up his cryptic act. “You wouldn’t want the world to know that Matt Murdock’s Daredevil, would you?”
Three heartbeats skip in tandem, and—pressed against the wall of the room they use to meet with their clients—Matt’s breath catches along with them. Karen can’t hear what’s going on outside, but to Matt, it’s clear as day.
But then Quinn bursts into laughter, and the other two follow suit, the three of them doubling over in gasping bursts of laughs and giggles. The stranger narrows his eyes—of all imagined reactions, this wasn’t what he expected.
“I—sorry, that looked like a really serious threat, but—” Quinn coughs. “I’m—I wish Matt were here, I would’ve loved to see the look on his face—”
“Matt’s blind,” Pete puts on, gasping with laughter, “in case you didn’t know, and, like, last month he hugged an opossum because he thought it was a stray cat and nearly fell into an open sewer grate when he realized—”
“If he could be out there, climbing walls and kicking ass, he would not be cursing up a fucking storm every time he misplaces his cane,” Foggy adds. “He acts so cocky and confident all the time, but the moment you take his cane away, he’s got the coordination of a very, very inebriated toddler.”
“So, no, thanks, we don’t think so,” Pete says. “Have a good day, Gossip Girl.”
But before he can shut the door in his face, the stranger reaches a hand out and blocks it from closing. “Wait.”
“Bro.” Pete glares. “I can and will break your fingers.”
“I have photographic evidence.” The stranger draws his hand out from his pocket and pulls out a black phone. “One leak on social media, and—”
Foggy snatches the phone, snaps it in half, and hands it back to him in one swift move.
The stranger looks like he’s on the brink of painful constipation. It’s hard to tell if it’s personal hatred or something bigger.
Quinn narrows their eyes at him and takes a deep breath, allowing themself the barest sink down into their rarely-used mutation.
He knows he knows he knows how does he know oh god flows from Foggy in a fast stream of consciousness, and Quinn almost winces from how much panic saturates his thoughts.
That was so cool. Pete’s mind swirls, hopping from thought to thought. Should’ve broken his fingers. Is Quinn doing their thing right now? My thing won’t work here. I’m hungry. Is Matt okay?
Distantly, Quinn hears Matt (is foggy okay are they all okay who is that) and Karen (who was that what’s going on what happened to matt).
And they hear the stranger, whose thoughts are inked with malicious intent and twisted loyalty to a dreadfully familiar name—and who’s panicking. They broke it. He’s going to kill me.
“And?” Foggy prompts. Quinn eases out of the realm of disjointed thoughts and too much noise, back into the real world.
The stranger backs away, peering at them through the gap in the half-open door. “Tell Matt Murdock that Wilson Fisk sends his regards.”
“Yeah, and I’m best chums with the bloody Queen of England.” Foggy slams the door, and locks it for good measure, turning back to exchange an alarmed look with Quinn and Pete.
“You’re a badass,” Pete says to Foggy. “Did you know that? Has anyone told you today that you’re a badass?”
But while he speaks, Pete gestures to the meeting room. The message is clear: We should discuss it there. In case anyone overhears.
“Matt as Daredevil,” Quinn announces in a disbelieving voice as they march off towards the room Matt’s crouching in. “Next thing you know, they’re gonna start saying Pete has time-traveling powers.”
As soon as the meeting room door shuts behind them, Matt punches a wall in frustration. It manages to dent the plaster. Foggy sighs. “Matt. We can’t afford that.”
“Foggy.” Matt shakes out his wrist. “I’m having a breakdown.”
“He doesn’t have pictures anymore,” Quinn points out. “Now anything Fisk tries to leak will be based on hearsay and hearsay alone. Nothing ever works with hearsay. You know that.”
“You don’t know for sure he doesn’t have backup pictures,” Karen argues.
“No, he doesn’t,” Quinn says firmly. “I read him. He was panicking.”
Matt relaxes at that, just a bit. “Hearsay can still go a long way.”
“Not if we have anything to do about it,” Pete says, kicking Quinn in the ankle.
“First off, ow,” Quinn mutters, “and secondly, yeah. Most likely they’re gonna try and leak it to the media or press or something, but again, without evidence, they can’t really press charges. Correct me if I’m wrong.”
Foggy shrugs. “Yeah.”
“So what’s the plan, Mx. Friendly Neighborhood Watch?” Pete grins, and the atmosphere in the office lightens, from something grave and serious to something almost mischievous.
Quinn grins back. “We take it to the media first.”
———
The Friendly Neighborhood Watch ✔ @FNWatch
Sticks to walls and ceilings ✔
Involved with string of some type ✔
Colorful ✔
Popular with the kids ✔
Behold! Spider-Man.
[Attached is a picture of sticky hands.]
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
omg omg omg omg
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
look ma i made it!! im a meme :,)
#spideygate @somebodyoncesaidtome
babe wake up new meme just dropped
quinnathy @darkerintheday
this is the legacy diogenes deserves
peter @PeterBot2000
oh em gee i love those things i had a dream the other night where i was spider-man (as usual) but the webs were like that material instead and it meant i was sick… i got benched from the big avengers battle bc of it
spidey’s friend @spideyboyy
that’s wack
peter @PeterBot2000
yeah im wack sometimes. it came out of me like tobey when i sneezed
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
like who??
peter @PeterBot2000
nothing
———
Retweeted by The Friendly Neighborhood Watch:
peter @PeterBot2000
Piece of complex machinery ✔
Advanced engineering ✔
Capable of flight if tinkered with ✔
Capable of violence if provoked ✔
Behold! Iron Man.
[Attached is a picture of a Roomba.]
Tony Stark ✔ @TStark
I could make a Roomba fly. I could totally weaponize a Roomba.
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
can i help can i help can i help PLEASE
Tony Stark ✔ @TStark
Sure. Swing by anytime this weekend.
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
YES!!!
peter @PeterBot2000
what have i done
———
Retweeted by The Friendly Neighborhood Watch:
quinnathy @darkerintheday
nimble ✔
seemingly nocturnal ✔
violence is sometimes the answer ✔
has little spiky triangles on its head ✔
behold! daredevil. [Attached is a picture of a cat.]
peter @PeterBot2000
baby
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
SCREAMING im gonna show this to him the next time we patrol
Franklin Nelson, Atty. @FranklinNelson
Personal favorite variation of this meme so far
———
Tony Stark ✔ @TStark
American ✔
Cultural staple ✔
Iced ✔
Not the most popular option on the menu ✔
Behold! Steve Rogers. [Attached is a picture of an iced Americano from Starbucks.]
Steve Rogers ✔ @srogers18
Rude. I’ll have you know that’s my go-to order.
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
black coffee?? you have no soul
Steve Rogers ✔ @srogers18
What’s wrong with black coffee?
Tony Stark ✔ @TStark
Yeah, kid. What’s wrong with black coffee?
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
i feel distinctly backed into a corner. i do not like this
———
The Daily Bugle ✔ @TheDailyBugle
SPIDERMAN AGAINST AMERICAN VALUES: “Black Coffee has No Soul” More on this at https://thedailybugle.com/spider-man/black-coffee
quinnathy @darkerintheday
i thought we left you in chapter one
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
@nedleeds take care of this clown
ned ned bo bed @nedleeds
i’m not just some pokemon you can summon whenever you need someone cyberbullied, spider-man
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
is this the trope where one character says they’re not going to do something and it immediately cuts to the character doing the exact thing
ned ned bo bed @nedleeds
i have no idea what you’re talking about
———
The Daily Bugle ✔ @TheDailyBugle
“Spider-Man As Cool As Ever,” New Report Suggests, “And Is Also Now Eligible For Financial Compensation Right Out of Our Pocket.” Written apology for all past slander will be published soon.
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
thanks bestie i take cash
ned ned bo bed @nedleeds
ur welcome
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
what was their password this time
ned ned bo bed @nedleeds
… JJJamesonROX69
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
dear lord
———
Sam Wilson ✔ @SWilson
American ✔
Cultural staple ✔
Hot & Black ✔
A fantastic option on the menu ✔
Behold! Captain America. [Attached is a picture of a hot Americano from Starbucks.]
The Friendly Neighborhood Watch ✔ @FNWatch
Mr. America sir it’s an HONOR
Steve Rogers ✔ @srogers18
Yeah, you win this trend.
———
Eventually, when Nelson & Murdock decides that the meme’s been established enough, they start doing it with celebrities. After all, they have a goal, and that is to undermine any and all attempts to expose any vigilante’s secret identity. Especially Matt’s, but why not get a few extra birds with the stone, right?
Quinn pulls up a whiteboard that the team usually uses to brainstorm cases, erasing all the messy scribbling on it. Pete frowns. “I was close to a breakthrough on that one.”
“Yeah, whatever, you can get it back.” Uncapping a marker, Quinn starts writing on the board as Pete sighs.
“What happened to mutual respect in the workplace?”
“We’re at war, Pietro. This is war.” Quinn clears their throat, and looks at the assembled company. Their dark hair is tied back in as much as they can manage, which isn’t much, but it’s really the thought that counts right? “Alright. Celebrities, go.”
“Oh, oh,” Foggy says from where he’s leaning against Matt on the office couch, “what about Henry Cavill and Frank—er, the Punisher?”
Quinn writes it down. “Similarities?”
“DILF,” Karen says, without any hesitation. Pete stifles a laugh.
“Henry Cavill doesn’t have children,” Foggy says, “but you know what? I completely get it.”
“DILF vibes,” Quinn says, writing it down on the board. “And?”
“Jacked,” Pete says, “like, entirely.”
The marker pen squeaks as Quinn furiously jots “totally jacked” down. “Cool. Anything else?”
“Who’s Henry Cavill?” Matt looks hopelessly lost. “What’s a DILF?”
———
peter @PeterBot2000
Occasionally violent ✔
Something about the moon ✔
Cool robes ✔
The moon thing, again ✔
Behold! Moon Knight. [Attached is a picture of Remus Lupin.]
quinnathy @darkerintheday
i’ll allow it. remus lupin my beloved
peter @PeterBot2000
glad i passed the gatekeeping section of this meme
———
“We need to mix up the format. Just so people are less on their guard about what constitutes as a meme and what’s actually an identity threat,” Matt says one morning, ever the analytical lawyer. “So instead of check marks, it’s all a paragraph, et cetera.”
“That’s going to take a while to catch on,” Karen says.
“Social media’s shallow and fast. We can do it.” Foggy glances at Quinn. “Right?”
“I should’ve majored in Communications,” Quinn mutters, turning on their laptop. “One variant of a viral meme, coming right up.”
———
Retweeted by The Friendly Neighborhood Watch:
quinnathy @darkerintheday
long-haired, blond, sense of justice, morally righteous… i’m beginning to think @FranklinNelson is thor. [Attached is a picture of Foggy.]
Franklin Nelson, Atty. @FranklinNelson
I never thought this day would come… My double life… Completely exposed…
spidey’s friend @spideyboyy
omg id let him defend my case if you know what i mean
———
And so the meme snowballs, bouncing around Twitter and eventually Tumblr and Reddit, gathering enough internet traction that it eventually trends on every social media site possible. People keep posting mundane objects or celebrities, hailing them as a superhero or vigilante with subpar reasoning, and it goes viral. Every. Time.
Hawkeye’s been compared to Angry Birds. Spider-Man is also somehow Seth Meyers. Tony Stark gets a few comparisons to Elon Musk, but they don’t catch on well (“for good measure,” Quinn says smugly, “Tony’s too good for him anyway.”) Sam Wilson gets the Duolingo owl twice.
For a few days, the meme holds strong and steady. Which is a relief, because the other shoe drops on day four.
———
“The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen!” comes Jameson’s loud, irritating voice from the speaker on Quinn’s laptop. “A criminal vigilante, second to Spider-Man, who prowls the streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night, terrorizing innocent New Yorkers and scaring them halfway to death.”
The video comes from the official Daily Bugle Twitter account—the very one Ned Leeds has repeatedly violated—and is already gaining likes by the second, rapidly going viral. Sitting in front of his signature green backdrop, Jameson looks smug and knowing, which already sets the office on guard.
“I hate this guy,” Foggy mutters, as Jameson goes on a tirade about Spider-Man and Daredevil’s various team-ups and acts of supposed terror. “Seriously, the fact that he haven’t been sued for defamation or slander yet is ridiculous.”
“To be fair, most people don’t take him seriously,” Karen suggests. “It’s like, if people were really worried about what people say on TV, Tucker Carlson would be six feet under right now. If he’s getting off scot-free, no one’s going to come after someone who talks shit about people in costumes.”
“You’re right, but I don’t like it.” Foggy sighs. “Jameson’s a fucking dick, that’s what he is.”
“Shh,” Matt shushes gently, elbowing Foggy. “Let’s hear what the fucking dick has to say.”
The curiosity is warranted—Jameson rarely attacks anyone whose name doesn’t begin with an arachnid and ends with a homosapien. So for him to be going after Daredevil like this…
“We’ve received top secret news from a confidential, trusted source,” Jameson almost shouts at the camera, “and we’ve been told to release it here, in front of the whole world.”
“Jesus,” Quinn mutters, turning down the volume as the speakers crackle, “do you think he has a really bad sound guy, or his sound guy’s just already gone deaf?”
“Daredevil is a criminal, no better than the ilk in the Raft—so it’s sheer, poetic irony that Daredevil himself is no other than a criminal defense lawyer, and a good Catholic man on top of that!”
Dread settles in all their stomachs, curling unpleasantly in their throats, despite having been expecting this exact moment for a while now. Matt’s fists are curled, and he barely registers how fast the others’ heartbeats have sped up—he’s wholly focused on Jameson.
“The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” Jameson finally announces, triumphant in his tone and raised fist, “is no other than…”
———
Matt Murdock sits in his office chair, sunglasses gleaming in the daylight and hands crossed over the top of his cane. About three feet away, Quinn’s phone is secured to a tripod, pointed directly at Matt, and the rest of the office is gathered behind the screen.
Quinn calls out, “Ready?”
Matt flashes a thumbs-up back. Foggy starts the camera, and then they’re rolling.
Taking a deep breath, Matt makes eye contact with the camera. Or, rather, he makes eye contact with a bit of wall, about three inches away from where the phone is, and continues to address it. “Hi.”
“Matt.” Foggy’s voice. “A bit more to your right.”
“Oh.” Matt turns his head slightly. “Here?”
“You’re good. You’re good.”
“Hi,” Matt repeats, flashing a brilliant smile at the camera. “I’m Matt Murdock. Attorney at law, Columbia graduate, co-founder of Nelson & Murdock, and most recently—so I’ve been told—the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Also a terrorist, a menace, a demon, et cetera,” Karen adds helpfully from off-camera.
“Right.” Matt purses his lips. “You’d think a guy would remember that.”
He pauses for a second, allowing the sarcasm to sink in. “Before the police busts down my office door—which, by the way, I’m begging for you to not do, because we won’t have the money to get it replaced—there’s one very important thing you should know about me.”
Reaching up, Matt takes hold of his sunglasses. Hesitates. Takes them off, revealing unfocused pupils and a glassy gaze, looking in the general direction of the phone but not seeing.
“I’m fucking blind,” he says simply.
After the intro, the video cuts to various candid videos of Matt that emphasize his point. The infamous opossum video, where Matt is truly cradling an opossum in his arms; the shaky video they took on April Fools where Quinn and Pete shifted all the furniture in the office exactly one inch to the left and filmed everyone’s reactions; a clip they’d filmed of Matt on the phone with Stark Industries’ customer services, complaining the StarkPhone’s lack of accessibility functions.
(“No, stop saying it comes with holographic capabilities. I’m blind, sir. Capital B, blind. No light perception at all. You know what holograms are? Light. I’m just trying to set up the—yes, I’m aware the accessibility options are all in Settings, but have you considered that I’m literally unable to see anything on the screen? No, I won’t hold, just tell me how to set up the phone.”)
It goes on and on. Foggy digs out pictures of Matt studying in his Columbia dorm room with a tape recorder and Braille textbooks. Claire shows up and, in a dramatic close-up shot of Matt’s eyes, demonstrates Matt’s total lack of light perception.
They blindfold Matt and film him, in one continuous shot, walking through the neighborhood as he normally would—smoothly and without a hitch. Then, in that same continuous shot, they put the blindfold on Quinn and capture the exact moment they fall facedown in a puddle, ten seconds into the video.
It ends up being a fifteen minute long mockumentary, which is edited with enough humor to show the ridiculousness of the accusation but also enough authenticity that it wouldn’t not be taken seriously.
One day after the Bugle’s exposé, The Friendly Neighborhood Watch retaliates.
The Friendly Neighborhood Watch ✔ @FNWatch
Sense of justice ✔
Capable of parkour ✘
Looks good in black ✔
Beats people up a lot ✘
Daredevil … ? We’ll leave that up to you to decide.
https://youtu.be/vFKQ7GflRkk
The Friendly Neighborhood Watch ✔ @FNWatch
Also, @TheDailyBugle, not only did you completely fuck up the meme format, it’s funny that you go after my boss after I handed your ass to you like two months ago. I’m starting to think you’re either petty or jealous.
The Friendly Neighborhood Watch ✔ @FNWatch
Also ALSO, maybe think like three seconds next time before going after a blind man.
The Friendly Neighborhood Watch ✔ @FNWatch
Also also ALSO, Nelson & Murdock boasts two frankly fantastic lawyers who are amazing at what they do, and excel at getting people in need out of seemingly impossible situations. We’re at 49th and Eleventh. At your service.
———
The video goes viral. Of course it does.
‘Blind Justice and Blinder Accusations: Sitting Down with Matt Murdock’ gains half a million views overnight, with a good portion of the comments either making scalding comments about Jameson’s ludicrous claim, or thirsting after Matt. (Karen’s already putting together a printed collage of the best ones to give Foggy.)
The police never show up at Matt’s door. Clients start trickling in steadily to Nelson & Murdock, with more than twice that many phoned-in inquiries, and the group throws a party that weekend to celebrate finally, finally, getting some paying customers.
“To Daredevil,” Foggy announces, holding up a glass of juice (which was all they could find at the corner bodega) and toasting the room, “for the much needed yet unexpected publicity.”
“To Twitter,” Quinn offers, raising their glass as well, “for being a total fucking hellsite.”
“To getting a raise,” Karen toasts.
“To Spider-Man,” Pete adds. “Not for any particular reason. Just feeling like it.”
As one, they look to Matt, who’s holding his own glass of orange juice thoughtfully.
“To us,” he says, raising his glass, and grins as everyone groans at the cheesy line.
“Us,” Foggy repeats, rolling his eyes fondly and clinking his glass against Matt’s.
“God, get a room, Nelson,” Quinn laughs.
“God, get a girlfriend, Quinn,” Foggy retorts, no malice behind his words. Still, Pete gasps with unbridled glee, Karen spits out her drink, and Matt coughs—and when Quinn inevitably pours their drink onto Foggy’s head, Pete manages to snap a selfie of all of them together in that moment.
He tweets it a few hours later.
peter @PeterBot2000
dumbasses (affectionate)
[Picture attached: Matt’s expression is shocked, while Karen’s is amused, if not a bit annoyed that there’s juice all over her shirt. Foggy’s eyes are squeezed shut, laughing as juice runs down his hair. Quinn is cackling, hand still outstretched, holding an empty cup over Foggy’s head. In front of it all, Pete’s throwing up a peace sign, completely unperturbed by the scene.]
quinnathy @darkerintheday
we r professionals
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
AND I WASN’T INVITED????????
———
The Daily Bugle ✔ @TheDailyBugle
SPIDERMAN: A PARTY CRASHER? Or Just Unable To Leave Civilians Alone? More on this at https://thedailybugle.com/spider-man/party-crasher
Spider-Man (WITH A HYPHEN) ✔ @RealSpiderManNYC
fuck (and i cannot stress this enough) all the way off