#bm.rambles

let’s pretend i’m the bartender, where i mix drinks and fantasies.

jake lockley – yes, the cabbie and the hot mechanic. when he’s off duty, i think he likes dark spiced rum. i’m giving him a shot of kraken black spiced. knocks it back without blinking, then gives me that tiny crooked smirk like he’s daring me to pour him another. and i will, obviously, because he has that effect on me.

steven grant from the gift shop – oh, my sweet, sweet boy. he’s a light drinker, but if jake tugs him along, i’m serving steven a heineken. he gives me that grateful smile like i’ve just saved his little soul from spontaneous collapse. but jake will definitely steal his drink the second he gets emotional about egyptian deities.

marc spector – ohhhh. one tired mercenary slash ex-army. he’s khonshu’s fist for a reason. he’s moon knight for a reason. my man deserves my special moonshine, wc, by the way, i don’t serve at the bar. it’s homemade, so i’m taking him home. he sips slow, like slow-he’s-watching-me-over-the-glass-rim-slow. he appreciates the company over the burn.

miguel o’hara – my grumpy man likes his veinticinco años scotch clean. i’m sliding him a chivas. set it down in front of him without a word, and he just arches an eyebrow because he hates that i already know what he wants. he’ll sip it slow (miguel’s not a shot-drinker) while i pretend i’m not staring at his hands.

bucky barnes, thunderbolts* era – he drinks alone, hates the crowd, and expects me not to be chatty. he likes a quiet drink. i serve him jim beam black, clean. yeah, he won’t talk, but he won’t leave early either.

in the series, steven is all warmth and awkward charm, soft jumpers, fumbling apologies, little mumbles of “oh, bollocks” when things go wrong. he’s the guy who notices when you’re overwhelmed and remembers that one oddly specific fact you told him three months ago (most probably)

in the comics though? that man is polished and oh so expensive.

tailored suits, expensive watches, the kind of cologne you catch a faint whiff of hours after he’s left the room. his confidence is a quiet, controlled thing, he doesn’t need to show off because the room shifts for him without him saying a word. PLUS the hair care, of course he insists the body keeps a fresh, sharp haircut, because appearances matter to him in a way that’s almost ritualistic.

when miguel is obviously watching someone for too long:

“warning: creeper stare detected. should I dim the lights to make you less obvious, or…?”

when miguel interrupts a flirty moment:

“ooooh, daddy’s mad. somebody doesn’t like sharing their toys.”

when miguel gets jealous:

“look at you, all grumpy and territorial. do you want me to print you a ‘Property of Miguel O’Hara’ sticker?”

when miguel hesitates to make a move:

“you could just kiss them, you know. it’s not like the multiverse will implode. probably.”

when miguel gets flustered and shuts her down:

“fine, fine. i’ll zip it. but just so you know, i’m recording this for the ‘Miguel Being Pathetic About Love’ archives.”

JUST FUCKING IMAGINE, miguel’s tech glitches & he falls into a timeline or a universe where khonshu’s power bleeds into his dna. suddenly, he’s spider-man 2099 with moon knight-esque powers (all that lunar strength boost, night vision and all the other shit + even khonshu’s voice in his head)

marc would hate this

steven would try to explain it

jake would just mutter ‘nah, this bloke’s too much’

and miguel would be like “LYLA!”