"I Like Dark Academia" Is Just A Fancy Way To Say: I Was Bullied For Being A Nerd And At This Point All

"I like dark academia" is just a fancy way to say: i was bullied for being a nerd and at this point all i want is revenge.

what do you mean i have to write my own fic for the stuff in my head to become tangible? Can I not just think of bits and pieces and an overall vibe + vague plot and then stare at an empty google doc super hard for ten seconds and have the entire thing be transferred there, all the blanks filled in? this is outrageous.

Annabel's for the Amazon Gala raises funds for the Foundation whose mission is environmental preservation and raising awareness of deforestation. Mr. Garfield certainly is channeling trees by wearing brown and I agree with @sincericida that it is a flattering color palette for him. Every cocktail sold enables 2 1/2 trees to be planted. So drink up attendees, it's for a good cause!

ANDREW GARFIELD

attends Annabel's and The Caring Family Foundation "Annabel's for the Amazon" Gala 2023.

(source)

PSSSST, also read the first chapter of Golden Hour--it's Prof!Peter and it has a lot of promise....although I'm not convinced I would actually acquire subject knowledge in any course he was teaching due to....distractions.

I have some goodies like a Pirate!Matt Murdock AU, and my pride and joy, Sealed With a Kiss.

Well now. That comment from the Chapter 8 reblog regarding a writer tossed plot hand grenade is looking a little prescient now that I've read Chapter 9. You've got quite a few of those in your arsenal I suspect! I really liked this chapter and I'm really sorry for the length of the following. I managed to use the KR insert (at least it worked for me on the reblog) because I have thoughts...

Peter Parker vs. Angel is an interesting dynamic you're laying out. I read your A/N with each chapter, and I like how Angel vacillates between vulnerable and steely-eyed practical because Peter does likewise. I much prefer writers who recognize that most individuals emotions are on a spectrum unique to them (with universal similarities) and Peter and Angel are great examples of that. He's barely holding it together, anger at what he wants to say simmering at the tip of his tongue but recognizing that to lose control in front of others is a perceived weakness--in his world, and in our world as well. However, Felicia made a rather handy target for blowing off a little steam. (That really mirrors the real world--often it is women and under-represented groups that receive the shrapnel when those in power are raging). Although, I am aware that Felicia's comment made her an easy target. I'll get back to Felicia in a mo, but for now, Peter. His fear(s) are a powerful motive, and Angel is showing him that she has agency. She's changed while away, and Peter isn't quite sure if he likes that. (hello real world again and what patriarchal societies view as shifting sands under their feet when those groups push back).

This is going to get really interesting (for me) as your plot and dialogue progress. Angel seems to understand that while she experienced events during her time away and also growth from those events, her underlying bond with Peter is still based on her feelings for him and those feelings are (to this reader) overwhelmingly positive. She shouldn't have to subsume her personality just because things changed, the adjustment must come from both partners, recognizing (as she does) that he changed as well. Perhaps I'm reading too much into this, but that is where I see her mentally right now. She is a strong woman, (with her father I expect there would be limited avenues for options--you either fold, break, or develop the strength to stand) and she shouldn't have to apologize for it but she sees Peter struggling with his own demons (related to her and everything else) and her own fears (his rejection of her due to those changes, etc) are also simmering right there. But to sum it up, I liked how she handled herself in the room, in front of Peter (and the rest of the group).

Back to Felicia. I love her. She may have slept with a married man, (hey takes two there Peter) but she has her own code and damn if she didn't have a great line: "She bakes and she’s a good shot. Anyone would think it wasn’t everything you looked for in a wife." The TASM fandom is where I tend to reside, and we only got a glimpse of Felicia with Felicity Jones in the second movie, but that is who I picture in your character. The kind of character you should never ever underestimate. Lot going on there. (side note: if you ever decide to write her as lead in a story, I am here for that).

And Miles, I love him too. Preternaturally mature, empathetic, smart, what is not to love? He has so much potential you half want to protect him and half want to let him go because he is meant to soar to the stars.

Finally, (again apologies for the length but this chapter had a LOT going on) back to the plot machinations. Someone is watching their movements pretty closely. I mean it makes sense to hit the hub as that is the heart of the community and Peter is involved with it, but the timing (thank heavens for a spot of tea and a bun and I could write another paragraph on that) has me guessing there is perhaps a mole? Only you know, ha! But the tragic circumstances (loss of life isn't explicitly stated other than bodies on the floor but severe injuries regardless) is going to be a powerful driver of a lot of things. Speculating that Peter is going to freak OUT a little and want to take control because he fears a lot of things are out of control. That alone (fear as a motivating factor for character's actions) could take up chapters (if that is your plan) and lord knows I love that kind of in-depth development and layering of people's thoughts, personalities, and actions. We're complicated and I adore it when writers just go for it and take up that adventure. It's a wild ride but it's not my first roller coaster ride, so hand me a ticket and open the gate cause I'm onboard.

Well done and cheers!

*This was a great reward for getting a project out of my hair, thanks for writing!

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter Nine: An Explosion In Chinatown

Summary: It's just one thing after another for our couple and the Vulture isn't making things any easier.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, mob/mafia/gang violence typical of the genre, guns, blood, bomb, explosion, death, angst, grief, arguing

Word Count: 2.2k+

A/N: Okay so the drama is ramping up here, you thought chapter 8 had a twist well chapter 9's is even bigger. We are about to touch on a possibly more sensitive topic for the next couple of chapters but I will be very clear to note when and where the details of our plot are so you can pick and choose which bits you read if any of this is gonna trigger you but you want to carry on. It will mostly be in the next chapter which will come with its own authors note but seeing as this is a mafia/mob/gang story it's not an out of character plot twist for the narrative. Anyway, if you struggle with the end of this chapter I advise skipping chapter 9 and just picking up with our story in chapter 10, I promise things will still make sense.

NINE

Peter stormed back into the apartment thirty minutes later followed slowly by Angel, Eddie, Harry and Felicia, Miguel being left downstairs to clear up the mess that was now Jackson Brice. Whether his resolve was stronger than they realised or he really wasn’t the fountain of knowledge they’d expected, was still yet to be determined, but they had learnt one thing before his body gave out, The Vulture was planning on something big.

“What the fuck was that?” Peter suddenly blurted out as he doubled back to his wife. She simply stared at him, her eyebrows raised, egging him on to do his worst. He quickly checked himself, taking deep breaths as he stared her down, unwilling to play her games.

When he seemed to calm a little she finally spoke. “Were you or were you not gonna tell me to go back upstairs after you dragged me all the way down there to make a show of IDing your little plaything for your own game?” she calmly threw the ball back into his court. 

She watched him closely as his nostrils flared, his pupils dilating as he began to feel his rage course through his body. He was acutely aware of their fight the day before, not wanting to prove her or her Father right, he could keep control of his anger, he could. She was just making it really hard for him right now. 

“Well?” she pressed. He growled under his breath as he turned away from her, confirming what she already knew to be true. “Look, I was the one who was hurt, it should have been me who exacted justice.”

“So you just shot him.” He turned to face her again, his hands sitting firmly on his hips in an attempt to feign a stance of control.

“I shot him in the leg Pete, I didn’t kill the guy.”

“It was a pretty good shot.” Felicia chimed in with a smirk of admiration that got her a harsh look from Peter. “Jeez bug boy,” she chided, “She bakes and she’s a good shot. Anyone would think it wasn’t everything you looked for in a wife.” she continued to jest as she slinked across the floor to the living room and took a seat on the sofa, leaning back into the cushions ready to watch the drama unfold. It was short lived though.

“GET OUT!” Peter shouted, finally blowing his top. “You know what you need to be doing today, so go do it.” he commanded her. 

“Come on now, Pete.” Eddie said, stepping forward to mediate again.

“No!” Peter said firmly to him. “All of you out. NOW!”

They all slowly filed back out the door, Harry placing a tender hand to Peter’s shoulder, urging him to try and be lenient. “I’ll meet you downstairs in a minute.” Peter muttered under his breath. Harry nodded in acknowledgment before leaving, closing the front door behind him.

The door closing acted like the fall of the curtain at the end of a performance. Peter turning his back to her and finally getting a hold on himself, able to finally let down his guard without prying eyes. Just him and his wife and their…issues.

He rested his head in his hands as he sat himself down in a boxy leather armchair. She watched as his breathing gradually slowed and began to step forward towards him, attempting to bridge the gap between them that kept getting wider, every time they tried to meet in the middle.

“Just when I think I understand you,” he huffed, still unable to look at her. “What happened to you?” He finally lifted his head to meet her eyes and she could see the pain clear on his face. His inner conflict that she was causing him.

“I had to adapt without you.” she said quietly. Peter watched as her own pain and realisation began to fall over her like a dark cloud. “I guess when you are in it, you don’t notice it as much. Until…” her voice trailed off as she tried to find a way to rationalise things. 

“Do you know how dangerous that is?” Peter finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them once more. “How am I supposed to deal with the threat out there if I’m always watching over my shoulder for you because I have no idea what you’re going to do or say next. What other secrets you’re hiding from me?”

“Peter I-”

“No. I can’t do this right now.” He said, getting up from the armchair, his hand running through his hair as his thoughts raced around in the small space.

“Peter, please.” Her hand reached out for his as he passed her. There was so much pain in his eyes when he looked at her.

“I’ll get Miles to come pick you up and take you down to the hub.” he said quietly as he slipped his hand from her grasp. She couldn’t help but stare at his back as he made his way to the front door, the latch closing behind him syncing up with the first tear that rolled down her cheek.

******

Miles picked her up an hour later. After Peter had left she made her way upstairs to finish getting dressed. She had kept on the trousers and the vest, choosing to layer over the top a light blue pinstriped button up shirt that sat oversized on her frame.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Miles said as he knocked on the door of the bedroom. He had let himself in. He had expected to find her sat waiting in the living room for him or even in the kitchen, he hadn’t expected to find her upstairs on the bed staring blankly at the wall.

“Umm, yeah, let’s go.” she said as she stood and started gathering the last of her things into her handbag.

“Hey, you okay?” Miles asked as he stopped her at the door. She looked like a ghost, not at all like the woman he had met the day before who was so sure of herself both when they had first been introduced and she was a fireball of rage or later, when they went down to the shelter and she was all kindness and smiles, showing him around. Now she was just a shell. He watched closely, the flash of change in her eyes as she suddenly put on a smile and a show to him but it wasn’t going to work.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” she chirped as she breezed past him and headed for the stairs down to the main floor of the penthouse apartment.

Miles didn’t want to accept that answer. His Mom had raised him well enough to know when someone was hurting and needed help. Taught him how to talk, to be compassionate, but in the 24 hours he’d come to know Angel, he knew if he pushed her too hard she might just snap at him and it might make things worse. He hoped once he got her down to F.E.A.S.T and she started to soften how she had yesterday, she may be more willing to talk about what’s happened.

They both sat in silence in the car as they made their way to the hub. “Did you want to pick anything up on the way?” Miles asked, attempting to make conversation and see if she wanted to get anything to bring to the shelter as an offering.

“No, it’s okay.” she said quietly before turning her head to look out the window. “Wait!” she exclaimed as they turned down a particular street.

“What? What is it?” Miles responded, suddenly on alert. But when he looked over to her in the passenger seat, there was a sudden softness to her, a feeling that wasn’t there before.

“Can you stop up here? There’s a little cafe I want to pop into.”

Angel told Miles to wait in the car for her as she made her way into the Lucky Cat Cafe, the little bell above the door jingling as she entered. As her eyes scanned the walls with their many quirky and colourful pieces of cat art, a feeling of nostalgia and peace washed over her.

“Good Morning?” a little old Chinese lady greeted her from behind the counter.

“Good Morning.” Angel smiled back. 

She took a seat at one of the empty tables and let out a sigh of relief as she sat back into one of the old wooden chairs. 

“Can I get you anything?” the old lady asked in her heavily accented english.

“Umm, yes, can I get a green tea and one of the coconut buns please?” she asked, the familiar order returning to her and falling from her lips as easily as riding a bike.

“One green tea, one coconut bun coming up.” the old lady repeated with a smile as she went back towards the counter.

It had been so long since she had last been here. It used to be a place her and her mother came to regularly before she passed. They loved nothing more than stopping in on a saturday morning and talking for what felt like hours about school and boys and family history, the ludicrous tales and adventures of her Grandmother being recounted to her over a cup of tea and a coconut bun.

“Thank you.” Angel said with a smile as the little old lady sat an ornately decorated cup, saucer and teapot in front of her along with the coconut bun on a small octagonal pink plate.

“Enjoy.” The lady smiled before returning back towards the tiny kitchen bakery in the back.

Angel poured herself a cup of tea and as she did so a small ray of sunlight suddenly shifted, shining through the little tea shop window to illuminate the chair beside her. The warmth of the light comforted her, a familiar presence at her side. 

As she sipped on her tea and nibbled on her bun, the little flakes of desiccated coconut on top dropping back down to the table and into her lap, she was reminded of a scene in a movie she loved to watch when she was younger. Her Dad had bought her the Charlie’s Angels movies on dvd as part of her Christmas present one year. She had watched them religiously, wanting to grow up to be just like the strong, courageous women in the movie. As she sat there now, the stream of light beside her, it reminded her of the scene in the second movie, when Dylan goes into a bar in Mexico and talks to a seemingly passed-on Angel of the past, Kelly Garrett, one of the angels from the original series. 

She looked to the stream of light beside her, felt the comfort in it and knew her Mom was sitting with her. ‘I miss you.’ she thought.

‘I know.” a little voice in the back of her head said.

When she returned to Miles 40 minutes later she could tell he was anxious about having left her in the little Chinese cafe alone; but the moment he saw her more present and relaxed, she saw him breath out a sigh of relief.

“You feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she smiled at him with a small nod of her head.

“Ready to go help some people?” he asked as she reached for her seatbelt and buckled herself in.

“Let’s do it.”

They pulled up on the other side of the road to the hub a few minutes later, Angel letting out another sigh of contentedness as she stepped out of the car and looked at the building. “You good?” Miles checked in with her as he looked at her over the roof of the car, the driver's side door clicking closed.

“Yup.” she turned and smiled at him.

They checked for cars before they started to cross the road, but as they got closer to the other side, Angel saw a flash of light through the glass doors of the hub before-

She was knocked off her feet as a blast of energy burst from the building, a large boom echoing out onto the street in its wake. Her back collided with the side of the car behind her and everything went black.

“Angel? ANGEL?” Mile’s voice sounded muffled, almost like he was talking to her underwater and there was this ringing in her ears. She opened her eyes, trying to see him, trying to understand what was happening. Her vision slowly cleared enough for her to make out his face as he hobbled towards her, leaning over her body.

She tried to move but her body was so heavy, everything felt numb. She managed to prop herself up on one arm slightly, though her ribs protested. 

“Angel?” Miles continued to say her name, trying to ground her, to focus on him but she couldn’t stop herself from looking past him at the clouds of black smoke that billowed out of the blown out windows and doors of the shelter. Small flecks of white ash came down like snow as people ran and screamed around them. There were bodies on the floor. Bystanders quickly got covered in dust as they ran in to help.

She tried to move again but it was difficult, like trying to pull her body out of quicksand. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t move.” Miles’ muffled voice said through the ringing still in her ears.

She thought she felt her chest groan as she finally gave up, her body relaxing back onto the concrete, her eyes closing, darkness dragging her under.

-----------------------------------------

New chapters go live on Wednesdays and Fridays! If you want to be added to the tag list make sure you put it in writing for me. Also if you are enjoying the story don’t forget to tip me like you would your waiter by reblogging and leaving feedback and letting me know what you think!

@scmdsblog @angiexsv @thef1nalgirl @did-someone-change-my-name @sincericida @tarzinnia @liz-allyn @blacksoul09 @humxncrxvings @sunnycolors @suicide-sweetheart636 @ahryi @ms-wild-card-56

Hi! This isn't an ask, but wanted you to know that you may wish to add a couple more tags to your excellent Peter Parker fic: #peter parker fanfiction, #tasm fanfiction, and just plain #tasm may alert more readers to your work. Some people get grumpy with the last one because they don't want fics in general tags, but tbh it's not like there's thousands of people discussing the two movies (I wish there were!) and there are quite a few fics that use that tag. It's how I've found new authors. It can be a little discouraging for writers (especially in with spider-man) because there's tons of MCU Peter (and now ATSV) but even there, people tend to 'like' instead of reblog. Shame, really because reblogs are in some ways better than tags for trying out new works/authors. But please do keep writing because that's one thing creators on Tumblr forget sometimes. Commercial authors have entire PR/marketing teams that front their material and you're writing solo with readers who are balancing their own work/writing/drawing/school/etc commitments and sometimes it feels like you're posting into a void. You're not. You're a star in the Tumblr galaxy that we, the astronomers, are still learning about. (damn, my English teacher hated it when I ended sentences with prepositions but oh well. Sucks to her assmar. Bonus points if you catch the reference)

Oh, and I'm trying desperately not to ask for hints on how long The Angel in the Garden... is going to be because I kinda don't want it to end. It's been nine great chapters so far!

Cheers for the heads up, I will definitely try to include those tags going forward. (I always feel like I'm missing some or that there should just be more haha)

Also I am currently writing chapter 13 but oh I don't think I am anywhere near finished. I think our current big explosion of a plot twist though is the mid way point in the story and the big turning point. Currently trudging through less twisty story right now as we allow things to settle and of course healing time for mortal injuries (not everyone can have Peter's Spider powers unfortunately), but I've got a couple clear points I'm working to right now to get me to my ending but as I said before, I have tried to allow me as much leeway as possible for my characters to take things any which way they want to go, so there may be a couple more grenades up the sleeve still yet to come I don't know about, one of which I think I am writing in right now and you'll be pleased to know it focuses on our Miss Felicia.