Why Is This Man Smiling? Because It's Reblog Wednesday! Reblogs Are As Contagious As A Smile For When

Why is this man smiling? Because it's Reblog Wednesday! Reblogs are as contagious as a smile for when you enjoy content and reblog it, it spreads across Tumblr so others can join in on the experience. Reblog stories, art, commentary, quotes; there is so much to share and learn!

Go on, reblog! I DARE(devil) you!

*For the new to Tumblr crowd: the reblog button is the loop of arrows adjacent to the heart (likes). Reblogging is the best way to keep Tumblr active and accessible.

Fast Food Nation (2006), directed by Richard Linklater, aired recently, and it served as a chance to rewatch Glen Powell (briefly) early in his career. The upcoming release of another collaboration between the two Texas natives is Hit Man (2023) and I'm looking forward to it. They wrote the screenplay together, along with veteran writer, Skip Hollandsworth (a Texas transplant from childhood), and it's been getting generally positive reviews from the various film festivals where it's been shown. Netflix acquired the rights for a cool $20 million and it's scheduled to be released in theaters prior to streaming. Let's see if Mr. Powell is ready to move up in the Hollywood pecking order.

"And as we know she has kept things close to her chest a little regarding that time before she came back."

Bwahahaha! You say that like you haven't been keeping those things from us readers as well, hahaha! Seriously though, it's been nice to have a longer series with some depth to explore the characters. I know those can be a bear to write, but they are the stories that stay with me longer.

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter Fifteen: Me and The Devil

Summary: Angel is trying to hold the cracks together, will a meeting with the devil himself make things better?

Warnings: 18+ Only, genre typical content, threat, emotional distress, mentions of character death, angst, panic attack

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So I thought this would be two separate chapters but as I was writing the first half it didn't feel enough. We are winding towards the end now, there's only a few chapters left. I'm hoping to get the rest of the chapters finished to a better standard than what I feel this chapter has become, this weekend. Anyway, that being said I hope you still enjoy the content of this chapter.

FIFTEEN

Peter regretted it the moment he did it. His stomach turned all the way back down to the car.

“Everything okay, boss?” Miguel asked.

“Yeah.” Peter sighed as he unbuttoned his suit jacket, ready to slide himself into the car. Miguel knew he wasn’t okay, but he didn’t want to push it. If Peter responded like that it meant he didn’t want to talk about it, just move forward, but the lack of flashy metal around Peter’s finger spoke volumes.

They sat in silence all the way to the Huntsman, Peter stuck in his thoughts in the back seat. ‘Why had he done that? What happened with Felicia wasn’t Angel's fault. If anything it was his fault for not saying no all those years ago when she had first tried it on with him. Should have stuck to his guns, then the Vulture wouldn’t have seen her as a target of weakness. But both of them were right.’ He hadn’t realised it, hadn’t wanted to believe it, but Felicia had meant something to him. Sure not as much as Angel, but she was there for him. She listened to him. Yes it just started as sex, but she had become a place for him to share his feelings when he had no one. Someone who made him feel more than just the Spider. Even if it had been just an act on her side, to keep her boss happy.

Miguel watched Peter through the rear view mirror the whole way to the bar. From the way Peter looked out the window, to the way he fidgeted in his seat, Miguel knew he was conflicted. He also knew he couldn’t let Peter get out of the car and go into a room of people like this. At a time when their enemy was always circling, they needed to be strong. Peter needed to be strong.

“Boss, can I say something?” Miguel asked as he pulled up to the curb and turned off the engine. Peter didn’t say anything, but the way he met Miguel’s eyes told Miguel he was able to speak freely. “You’re better with her.” Miguel said. “You know me and Angel have never really been able to see eye to eye, but she’s good for you. You wouldn’t have the business or success you do if it wasn’t for her.” He paused for a moment to make sure Peter was listening. “If you want to end all this mess with the Vulture, you need her by your side, not against you. We know you as the Spider, but she knew you before. She knows all of your strengths and weaknesses and how to work with them. And I hate to admit it but, she knows this business better than any of us. As much as I hated Kingpin, the fact he was her Father, everything he taught her, that’s what made you successful. She made you successful. And ever since you’ve been apart both you and the business haven't been the same. She’s the one who said you should work with Hobie, not those Peaky Blinders, Kray wannabes over in London and look at you and Hobie now? It was her push for F.E.A.S.T that not only helped with our finances but actually helped the city in the way you always wanted and even kept Stacy on our side.” They sat in silence for a moment as Miguel’s words sunk in. “When she left it was like seeing a piece of you die and sure since she’s been back you’ve done nothing but struggle and feel more conflicted, always feeling like you have to watch over your shoulder for her, to protect her, but I saw her when we were downstairs with that shithead Jackson Brice. Imagine if you had that version of her by your side everyday, not hidden away. If you embraced this version of her. Can you see how much stronger you’d be? It’s the only way you can take down Toomes. Together.”

Peter’s eyes had wandered to stare at his feet as Miguel spoke, but the moment he had said ‘together’ Peter’s eyes met Miguel’s once more. Those dark, life hardened eyes, suddenly soft. The care he had developed for Peter over the years, clear on his face.

“I know you’re all cut up about Cat, we all are and we all want to avenge her, but we’ve got to be smart about this, because right now, you’re playing straight into his hands. He knows that we are all stronger together. With us all working together as a team, he doesn’t stand a chance. That’s why he went running to align himself with the Italians. He needed to have a team of his own, but the Italians are only loyal to themselves, that union is tentative at best. If we’re gonna take him down, we all need to work together.”

****

Angel sat on the end of the bed in shock. She immediately wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Wished she hadn’t said anything. Wished she’d never taken those pills. Wished she hadn’t made so many decisions. But she had. Those whole three years she wanted nothing but Peter, to be back by his side, so why was she making this so difficult. In sickness and in health. For better or worse. They’d both made those vows and now their marriage felt more irreparable than ever. 

Her breathing suddenly became laboured as the reality of their situation really sank in. She didn’t want this. Her hand clawed at her chest as panic seeped in, tears welling in her eyes as she began to sob. Alone, her wails echoed off the walls back to her ears, only making the feelings trying to burst from her chest worse. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” she repeated to herself as her body became too heavy for her, her legs buckling as she slid off the end of the bed and onto the floor. She could barely feel the pain in her ribs now over the aching of her breaking heart. Her hand clasped over her mouth, trying to keep her breaths and wails in, trying to hold herself together again long enough to get a handle on herself. She needed to fix this. It was all her fault. She needed to fix this. She removed her hand from her mouth to let out one last guttural scream. She breathed deeply as some of the weight on her chest subsided, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as she sniffed and tried to compose herself.

She reached into her pocket for her phone, pulling up the message thread from Toomes. ‘Meet tonight. The Mill Rooftop, 8pm.’ Send.

She leaned back against the bed frame, her breathing slowly coming back into control as her plan was beginning to form. She continued to look over to Peter’s ring on the top of the side table. ‘I will fix this.’ she repeated to herself, ‘I will fix this.’

She continued to repeat the mantra to herself as she slowly stood, mustering up her strength and heading towards the adjoining ensuite and walk in wardrobe to ready herself. She touched up her makeup, adding a deadly red lip, still muttering her mantra to herself as she looked herself dead in the eyes. 

“You are the daughter of Wilson Fisk. You are the wife of Peter Parker. You’ve got this. You can fix this. You will fix this.”

----

She was grateful that between the three of them, Peter, Harry and Miguel had been moving the cars from the old house over to the parking garage here in Queens. As she climbed into the McLaren (Peter had of course got it for the use of Spider in the name), she wasn’t sure if it was from the drugs still coursing through her system or the adrenaline, but she was thankful that she was numb to the pain in her body right now. As she hit the ignition, the car rumbled to life beneath her, flooding more adrenaline through her body; and as she sat waiting for the gate at the top of the ramp to open, she began to mutter her mantra again, “I can fix this. I can fix this.”

----

She wasn’t even sure if he’d come. As she slowly made her way up the stairs of The Mill, one of her Father’s old buildings in the Kitchen, known for its drug labs and exports, she feared she’d psyched herself up in vain. As she opened the door to the rooftop, her heels echoing powerfully on the concrete, she was relieved to see him stood waiting for her in the shadows.

“Interesting choice in meeting place.” he said as he turned away from the edge to face her. “The same place your Father fell to his death.”

“Don’t play innocent Toomes, we both know you pushed him.”

“What makes you think you’d walk away when he didn’t?”

“You said it yourself,” she said as she came to a stop before him, “you just can’t seem to kill me.” 

He raised his eyebrows at her, a flash of a smirk in his eyes, a taunt, I’d happily try again. He’s cool and collected, casual even as he sits himself on the edge of the building. “So come on then, what are your terms?” She took two steps back, her arms outstretched indicating to the building. “The Mill?” He asked in confirmation.

“Peter doesn’t do drugs. You want something to chew on, we’ll sign it over to you, let you run it, but you have to respect us and you have to respect the city.”

“That’s it? Your big bargaining chip? An old dusty drug factory?”

“Be grateful I’m not asking for a pound of flesh after blowing up the hub.”

He chuckles as his head turns to look out over the city. “Aaah yes of course, why would you care about the Black Cat after she fucked your man.” She pursed her lips, trying to keep her composure as the cut smarted. “Did you a favour really.” he continued to taunt. “You should be thanking me for making that little problem go away.”

“She wasn’t a problem?” 

“Oh, really? Because I think your husband's wedding ring currently sat on that side table in your bedroom says otherwise.” Angel’s face finally fell. “Oh you didn’t think anyone knew about that? There’s a lot you don’t realise I know. Like…” he paused for dramatic effect as he drummed his fingers against his chin, “you should be a lot nicer to the people that help you. Or how about the current whereabouts of Aunt May. Or how you aren’t in a position to negotiate anything with me, after all, it’s your husband’s name that’s on your Father’s will, not yours and last time I checked, old Petey boy doesn’t negotiate with- what’s the word the Brit used? Terrorists, was it?”

“Fine, but something needs to change. Innocent people have died. They didn’t ask for this.” Angel said growing frantic.

He smirked as he stood pacing towards her. He gripped the lapels of her suit jacket, turning her with ease, holding her over the edge of the building. Her fingers gripped tightly at his wrists, her own fractured wrist smarting with the strain. He chuckled harder as he took in the look of fear on her face as she looked between him and the ground far below. “You’re right little Angel,” he sneered, “they didn’t ask for this and it doesn’t matter as this will all be over soon.” She breathed a sigh of relief as he slowly righted her again, moving her away from the edge. “I gave you a chance to make this easier Angel when I visited you after your Dad’s little ‘accident’, but instead you ran back to him and started playing house and now look at the two of you. You put your faith in the Spider and now you will watch when I make him scream. And I will make him scream.” He paused for a moment, releasing her suit from his grip and brushing it smooth again before starting to walk away.

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

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He's missed out on several awards for various roles. It's rough some years because there have been some very competitive seasons, but he's just so talented. I think it's feast or famine in the business sometimes. I do hope his upcoming movie with del Toro is good. I mean I don't know what the tenor of We Live In Time is going to be like and really, the actors must decide which roles they wish to accept or demur with respect to their career, but he does so very well with the strong deep characters, not necessary physically strong but strong in their very soul.

There's nothing more beautiful than Andrew Garfield's crying face:

I want to hold him everytime... 😭😭😭

(via)

Put your hands in the air if you're looking forward to seeing Michelle Yeoh as Madame Morrible in Wicked next year (currently scheduled for November 2024). Really hope this movie delivers. I know Michelle Yeoh will.

Going to use a series of GIFs instead of an essay. Still a little choked up from the last chapter and this one.

Felicia's funeral:

Back at the apartment with the death by a thousand mean-spirited words and every once in a while a truth bomb landing and leaving a gaping wounded heart:

The final words and leaving the wedding ring behind:

The longer comments are on Chapter 12. The last two chapters have been quite emotional. It's really riveting. Well done.

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter Fourteen: Family Feud at the Funeral

Summary: As the team lay Felicia to rest, emotions get too much for Peter and Angel.

Warnings: 18+ Only, genre typical content, graphic depictions of dead body, bodily harm, funeral, grief, angst, complicated marriage, drug misuse

Word Count 2.5k

A/N: So I didn't say much in my authors note last chapter but trust me killing characters for the sake of it isn't my thing and I had no idea that that would be where the narrative would take me but we really needed something to break our characters and push them to the end. It goes without saying but don't abuse drugs.

FOURTEEN

Her funeral was held a week and a half later at the same cemetery Angel and Peter used to visit all those years ago. Although the group of them was small, the security detail they travelled with was large. It was the perfect place for The Vulture’s next attack but Angel knew he wasn’t that cruel. 

When Peter and Hobie had gotten down to the Huntsman it wasn’t a pretty sight. Carl and a young bartender called Robbie, had carried her body inside from the alley, the young bartender the only one with a strong enough stomach to carry out the task. They laid her on her back on top of a table downstairs, a meeting room that never really got used anymore after Peter had expanded his operation and set up an official office across town. She had slashes all over her skin, her throat was bruised and across her chest had been carved a giant spider with a large X through it.

Peter thought he had a pretty solid stomach after all of these years, all of the bodies he had seen, the people he had killed and tortured; but seeing her body lying there like that, someone he held close, the only person who connected with him when he felt most shut off from the rest of the world when Angel left, his stomach turned, bile rising in his mouth.

Her Father’s body was still unaccounted for. They had just found out from Eddie that Felicia’s father, Walter, was suddenly missing after he got jumped in the prison yard at lunchtime, when they arrived home. Peter had gone to visit Lydia out of respect, to tell her what had become of her daughter and husband. A mother’s wails over losing a child never truly leave you.

Angel and Peter clung tight to each other at the funeral, each with their own reason. He wanted her close to protect her. It was the first time she had left the building since he’d transferred her from the hospital back home. It would be just their luck that someone would try to take her out again and Peter was determined to protect her at all costs, even if it meant sacrificing his own life for hers.

Despite her still healing injuries, Angel had tried to be by Peter’s side as much as she could the moment he had gotten home that night. It was three thirty in the morning and she remained sitting patiently in the living room until they had returned. She saw from the look on his face the moment he walked through the door that he was not okay. As much as he would deny it, Angel could see that Felicia had meant something to her husband. She had been there for him when she hadn’t been. Not to mention she knew better than anyone that you can’t just have sex with no strings attached, sooner or later, someone’s feelings always got involved; that’s how her and Peter had got to where they were in the first place. She was also still on a large concoction of pills to help her function through the pain in her still healing ribs.

Nurse Temple had stopped by again two days ago to check on her bandages, change them for some new ones and re-set and wrap her ribs. She also dropped off another prescription slip, written out by Dr Healey which Angel had used to full advantage, doubling up her dosage to get her through the next two and half hours of proceedings and the start of the wake, which was being held at the Huntsman. She felt like she was floating, holding on to her husband just to keep her grounded. She was grateful for the large pair of black Prada sunglasses she wore on her face, hiding her eyes so no one could see just how spaced out she was. She was trying to focus on the officiant speaking next to the casket, a jet black number Felicia would have been proud of, but her eyes kept wandering back and forth. They suddenly came to a stop, focusing in on a large figure standing by a set of graves a few rows over. She blinked hard, sure she was seeing stuff. Sure enough, when she looked again the figure had gone. She tried to turn her head back towards the casket and the picture of Felicia that was displayed on top of it but- there he was again. Her Father.

No that couldn’t be, he was dead. He was definitely dead. She had seen his body. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. When she looked again, just as she suspected, he had gone. She slipped her hand into Peter’s squeezing it tightly. 

Peter didn’t need his spider senses to tell him something was wrong. He knew his wife well. When the service was over he helped her to her feet but didn’t move, waving everyone else away, telling them to start moving back towards the cars as he turned her to face him. She was swaying slightly. His fingers reached out carefully for her sunglasses, lifting them carefully from her face. Her pupils were blown wide. “Fuck, Angel!” He sighed. “How much did you fucking take?”

“I knew we weren’t going back to the apartment for hours so I doubled up.” she said but she was clearly distracted. One second she was looking at him, the next she was looking at something over his shoulder. He turned his head but there was nothing there. She blinked heavily as she swayed and tried once again to get a handle on herself. “OH MY GOD CAN YOU JUST FUCK OFF!” she suddenly snapped. Peter gripped her face in his hands forcing her to look at him but she wouldn't; she just kept looking past him. “Great, now there’s two of them.” she huffed.

Peter looked around again but there wasn’t anything there. “Angel.” He said her name trying to ground her and get her to focus, “Princess. Baby.” Nothing, nothing was getting through to her.

“Go away! Leave me alone!” she said forcefully.

“ANGEL!” Peter snapped and her eyes locked onto him with one harsh blink. “What the fuck is going on?!” he said forcefully.

“My Dad.” she said.

“But your Dad’s dead.” He said. She was expecting for her to give him one of those looks she usually gave him. The ‘my husband is an idiot look’, but she didn’t.

“You don’t think I know that.” she just said to him as her eyes wandered again. She groaned as she forced her eyes closed. She breathed deeply and counted to ten under her breath, Peter’s hands moving to rub soothingly over the tops of her arms. When she opened them again her father was gone. Peter felt her breathe a sigh of relief. He observed her eyes closely. Her pupils were still big but not as large as they had been a moment before.

“You gonna be okay?”

Angel swayed again then blinked before saying, “Yep.” but Peter wasn’t convinced.

Harry and Hobie were stood waiting by their car as they approached. “Everything okay?” Hobie asked.

“Yeah, this one here’s just decided to start seeing dead people.” Peter deadpanned frustratedly. Angel rolled her eyes equally frustrated. “Harry, can you get her in the car?” Peter ordered as he sidled up beside Hobie.

“Yeah, sure.” Harry said as he reached a hand out for Angel to take so he could walk her round to the other side of the town car and help her into the backseat.

“She’s popped one too many pills.” Peter sighed as he began to have a muttered conversation with Hobie, his voice keeping low as no doubt he thought she’d be eavesdropping. 

“I can do it, I can do it.” She said, holding her hand up to Harry who was stood awkwardly at her side with the passenger door open, trying to work out what he was supposed to do to help her in. When she was sat, his hand reached for the seatbelt. “I swear to god Osborn.” her voice chastised once more, stopping him in his tracks.

“Fine. Fine. Jeez.” Harry said as he let the seatbelt go, his hands thrown up in surrender. “I’ve got it.” she heard his voice quietly mock as he closed the door forcefully on her.

Despite the amount of painkillers currently flowing through her system, Angel rubbed a hand over her forehead, a headache forming. She allowed her eyes to close as she leaned to press her head against the cold glass of the car window, continuing to breathe deeply, once, twice- DING.

She knew who it was going to be before she even looked at the message. It was that unknown number again. Another picture attached. This time there was a little message with it. ‘Such a touching ceremony.’

It made her skin crawl. She had tried to message back multiple times but he never responded to her messages. Her questions. Her demands. She just stared at the screen, her eyes blurring at the edges. When the car door opened on the other side of the car, she quickly put the phone back in the pocket of her black trenchcoat. 

She tried to ignore Peter as he unbuttoned his blazer and smoothed down his shirt as he climbed into the car beside her.

“I’m taking you home.” he said curtly, not making eye contact with her.

“Pete, I’m fine-” she tried to protest but he wasn’t having it.

“Angel, you are not fucking fine. I’m stressed enough today without having you hanging around like a fucking liability.”

She looked at him as if he had just slapped her. “Are you serious right now?” she shrieked. He continued to ignore her. “LOOK AT ME!” He finally snapped his head towards her. She noticed he had that look in his eye. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” she spat at him. Although he didn’t say anything, she knew her words were getting to him. Could practically see the bubbles under his skin as his blood began to boil. “Fucking man child.” she hissed. “However the fuck did you manage while I was gone, huh? You know ever since- I was the one- who got blown up, you’ve been acting like a lost little child without his Mommy there to hold his hand-” her rant was cut off by the feeling of his hand squeezing at her wrist.

His grip was tight and bruising and his chest heaved, nose chuffing as he tried to keep himself in control, trying not to lose it completely. She continued to meet his stare, not letting him intimidate her but she had never seen him look at her that way before. Never felt him touch her that way before. He suddenly released his grip on her, pushing her arm away as he turned to look out the window instead.

“You’re going home Angel, there’s no debate about it.” His word was final.

“Boss.” Miguel said as he came to a stop in the car park. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Peter said as he got out of the car.

Angel snapped her limbs away from him when he tried to help her from the car. “I can do it.” She snapped but her legs wobbled as she stood and Peter had to hold an arm out for her to steady herself. 

“And you called me a child.” He said as she rolled her eyes, frustrated by her body betraying her and needing to take his help after all.

He was a silent force at her side the whole way upstairs, helping her into their bedroom where he sat her on the end of the bed. “You know if you go back without me people are gonna talk more than they already do.” She said as he knelt to take off her shoes for her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked her, exhausted.

“About you and her.”

“I told you, she meant nothing-“

“Really? Then why have you been acting like-“

“-BECAUSE SHE WAS STILL MY FRIEND ANGEL! FUCK!” He shouted, drowning her out.

“SURE!” Angel fired back. “IS THAT WHY HE KILLED HER THEN? JUST BECAUSE YOU WERE FRIENDS PETE? COME ON!” She fired back. “HE KILLED HER BECAUSE HE KNEW IT WOULD GET TO YOU.”

“Fucking Hell! It’s like trying to have a conversation with your FATHER!” He spat at her.

“You take that back right now! I am NOTHING LIKE MY FATHER!”

“REALLY BABY, Because you seem to act JUST LIKE HIM!”

“Are you KIDDING ME!” She said standing.

“You know I think this is EXACTLY what your Father wanted!”

“What’s that supposed to mean!”

“I mean, I think he knew he could turn you into a bomb and FUCKING DESTROY ME!” He said, hand beating at his chest. “Ever since you’ve come back, one second I think I know you and then the next BOOOM. You’re just a fucking grenade baby. Just another pawn in your Fathers game.” He said as they squared up to each other. “Even in death.” He hissed into her face.

She was silent as the words hit her like a slap to the face.

“What happened to you?” He asked softer. “What happened to the girl I pulled out of that burning building all those years ago. The girl who visited her mothers grave religiously. Who told me she didn’t want to have anything to do with her Father’s business.”

His words brought tears to her eyes but she swallowed them back. “She married a man who couldn’t help but get himself in her Fathers business and play his games so he could destroy him. How did that go for you Pete? Huh? Because I saw how you were with Jackson Brice. Seems like you became a real expert at the game.”

“ANGEL! PEOPLE ARE DYING! THIS ISN’T A GAME!”

“LEWIS! HAZEL! VERONICA!” She began listing off names. “DAVID! SANJAY! LIZ!” His hands flew into his hair as he paced away from her, realising what it was she was doing. “THEY’RE ALL DEAD PETE! ALL BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS A GAME TO THEM! DON’T YOU KNOW THAT BY NOW! IT'S ALL A GAME! ALWAYS HAS BEEN” Peter turned his back to her as she continued to rant. “MY DAD. THE VULTURE! THEY DON’T CARE!”

Silence. She watched him closely as his gaze moved to the floor as he shook his head. “I thought you knew that.” Her voice became wistful, the sadness of a long forgotten life, a long forgotten goal falling over them. She watched as he recognised it too, his fingers moving to play with the wedding band on his finger, twisting it back and forth. 

Her stomach lurched as she watched him pull it from his finger. He still wouldn’t look at her. He took a long hard look at the ring, turning it over in his fingers. “Well maybe I’m done playing games.” He said and he walked away from her, placing the ring on a side table next to the door as he left.

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

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!

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