Steph: Before we begin, I want to clarify that I only wrote the words on the slide and they are exactly as Cass told me to write them. Everything else is alllllll her.
Bruce (stressed): If you are denying responsibility I can’t imagine what I’m about to see.
Dick: Favorite colors? Steph what’s so bad about that?
Headcanon that Jason’s white hairstreak is so inconsistent in the comics because he keeps desperately trying to get rid of it and it just comes back.
Maybe it makes more sense for it to be a stress thing, but I think it’s funnier if it’s just a weird magical side effect of the Lazarus pits.
So he dies it black, and the magic goes No. It’s white again within a week. He tries colouring it in with sharpie. No luck. He literally cuts that bit off and then he wakes up with more white hair than before.
He eventually has to call Talia like How Do I Get Rid Of It.
She gives him the mystical speech equivalent of a vague shrug.
out of all the cars he could have chosen (and it’s canon that he knows how to steal modern cars) he picked the smallest, most uncomfortable car and stuffed in 3 grown ass beefy men. Incredible. I’m surprised they went along with it.
I guess he assumed the authorities wouldn’t be looking for three big beefy men in a little bitty car. There’s a certain kind of logic to that. Mackie said he kept running it into the wall.
My favorite thing Mackie said about this car wasn’t just that Chris couldn’t drive it for shit, but also that no useable footage exists of Sebastian Stan getting out of the backseat because every time he tried, he’d get stuck and everyone on set completely lost their shit.
AN | No asked for this, but you’re getting anyway. Here we have a mixture of coffee shop, tattoo artist, and soulmate aus! Enjoy❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 5.2k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You hadn’t heard the soft twinkle of the bell above the door go off. It wasn’t until you heard his warm voice that you even realized that you weren’t alone.
“Is that challah?”
You jumped from where you were crouched on the floor, managing to hit your head on the counter. You hissed as you rose to your feet, rubbing at the sore spot that was already forming on your head, checking for blood or any sort of visible injury. Across the counter, much to your surprise, was a handsome man looking at you with a sheepish expression and meekly pointing at the display.
“Yeah,” you managed to choke out, distracted by the throbbing of your head and the glittering ochre eyes apologetically looking back at you, “it’s challah.”
Damian: Well, I suppose it's because I have an impressive body count.
Dick: *spits his drink out*
Jason: *drops his phone*
Tim: *head whipping around 180 degrees*
Dick: ...Oh.
Dick: Well. If you ever wanna talk about it, I'm...I'm here?
Dick [covering his ears with his hands]: Actually, I take that back. I'm not. Don't tell me. Don't even say that ever again. You shouldn't know what that means, you're literally a BABY, WHY DO YOU--
Jason: *wheezing*
Tim [doesn't know which meaning of the phrase is worse]: I...how many was it, Damian?
Damian: I've lost count?
Jason [throwing his head back]: HA!
Dick: *visibly upset*
Tim:
Tim: *sucks teeth*
Tim [turns back to his tablet]: Well, then.
Steph [walking in]: Gooood afternoon, mofos.
Steph: Why's Dick crying?
Damian: I was trying to explain that I could handle the Las Vegas mission on my own by virtue of my substantial body count.
Steph:
Steph [starting into the five stages of grief]:
Steph: Your substantial what.
Jason: *dying for the second time*
Damian: What in the world are you all going on about?
Dick: *lowers his hands*
Tim: *is confused*
Jason: *still laughing into his elbow*
Steph: Uh-huh. I really need you to explain yourself right now, bucko.
Damian: Oh, you too, Brown?
Damian: For your information, I can actually hold my own--
Jason [wheezing]: PLEASE--
Damian: --in the video game tournament in Las Vegas that I will be infiltrating this weekend. Actually, I have beaten Gordon on Call of Duty at long last, so that means I am actually OVERqualified for the mission.
Jason: *still cackling*
Tim: Well, congrats. But for YOUR information, body count has another meaning other than a shooting game. So maybe next time you announce that--
Damian: I know what it means, Drake.
Damian: I have another body count other than my top score.
Another quiz for if you were a fictional character how would your fandom treat you (if you think your life is too boring to have a fandom just think of yourself as living the domestic!au of some sci-fi or fantasy)
You’re the “Dilf/Milf/Nilf who reluctantly adopts a bunch of traumatized kids” cliche (im so sorry for saying nilf I didnt know what else to say) Though ill be honest, you might’ve gotten this answer because you WANT to be adopted into a found family, not because you’re the parental friend or something- if so that’s my bad. But regardless, you probably get really anxious over your friends, you rely on your friends a lot, you love your friends more then anything, and you try to take care or them as much as possible. You have anxiety over being the therapist friend, and you are in fact very hot so the _ilf thing fits.
The process of making this comic can be simplified to that yes-no-orange-jacket-guy meme.
Me working on my pile of assignments, studying, and drafting college applications: (￢_￢;)
Me screeching at my first comic thingy and only discovering "gutters" after I spent a full day of break drafting, and about to boogie the living hell out of Koalemos himself: ( ⊙ꇴ⊙ )
This post was based off of @theaceofarrows's post! Check out their post through this link!
Since it's Epilepsy Awareness Month, I tried to finish this at least sometime in November... even if it meant starting on the 27th, finishing it on the 29th, and posting on the 30th.
If you (or anyone around you) want to get a basic understanding of epilepsy, try epilepsy.com. Even though Epilepsy Awareness Month is ending, it's not like epilepsy is gonna suddenly vanish. SO. Donate and/or spread the info. And as always, be wary of what you read/find on the internet.
P.S.
Gotta prepare my college applications Part II so I had to speedrun the rest of the coloring which has essentially become... blobs??? !(꒪A꒪|||)
Drafting and "line-art-ing" took two solid days. Bless Discord for granting me the strength to continue with supportive and uh... eccentric friends. XD
I've also been discovering a lot more Jason Todd fans IRL, so shout out to you wonderful people! It was so much fun screaming about Jason with you all! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و
Edit: DAUM. Thank you all so much!! I'm glad that this made your week, @theaceofarrows! Thanks so much for creating the prompt. Apart from providing me the inspiration to draw, you also got me into better understanding epilepsy. So, thank you! <3
And thank you ALL! You have no idea how much I love reading through your tags. I’m glad that this was received well! You all are amazing. Seriously.
Keep thriving, everyone! ( ˊᵕˋ )°♡
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven
Summary: The Duchess and Lord Peter host a pre-wedding celebration. (Third person to get the story moving ;) )
Warnings: mentioning of consumption of alcohol, mentions of poisoning, mentions of a hostage situation
For Katie & Liz
——————————
Standing hidden in the shadows of a second floor window, the Duchess watches on as the indigo sunset sneaks away behind the tree line of her family’s old vacation home - now her home. There she stands, watching on as the people of the Ton flock to her home in their most beautiful dresses and most dashing suits, marveling at the long forgotten spacious estate.
The cobblestone and brick mansion was covered with overgrown ivy - a nuisance to many, but one of the Duchess’ most favorite parts of her home. The long, pebbled entrance to the estate was lined with candlelight and flowers, welcoming eager party guests in for celebration.
Music plays faintly through the halls of the manor, echoing against the walls, along with the chatter from the growing crowd on the main floor of the home.
A calming, raspy voice broke through the noise - “You do not suffer from cold feet, do you, my dear fiancé?”
The Duchess smiles softly to herself before turning towards the voice of her betrothed, who was standing a few steps away from her with a smile spread across his handsome face, adjusting his navy suit just as she glances his way, “Now, my dear Peter - that is an awfully silly question.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle - “Then what on earth is plaguing that beautiful mind of yours, Blue?” His brows furrow inquisitively. “Why are you hiding away from your own engagement ball?”
She bites the inside of her cheek before letting out a sigh - “I am nervous, Peter.” Her shoes click as she steps over to the man, gazing up at him before resting her forehead on his shoulder, letting out another sigh. “I just needed a moment to breathe, I suppose.”
Lord Peter’s warm fingertips move down to the Duchess’ chin, thumb and finger gently urging her gaze upward to meet his warm eyes - “I know that it seems as if the entire Ton will consume you, but I swear I am here to pull you out if they do. You say the word and I will whisk you away to wherever your heart desires,” he pulls her face to his, delicately kissing the tip of her nose before letting out a sharp exhale through his nose, followed by a cheeky grin. “If it brings you peace, you should know that the staff has prepared our favorite foods. I promise, my Bluebell, all of this should be over in just a few hours. The last of our required pleasantries will be over after this evening.”
The small smile on the Duchess’ beautiful face melts into a sorrowful look, biting her inner cheek yet again. “Peter, that isn’t it.. I feel as if something is afoot. Or - or something has gone wrong,” she explains, standing up a little straighter and placing her palm on her gut. “I feel it - deep within me. I feel as if something is watching me… Watching us.”
Peter slightly shakes his head - “It is just you and I, my love. You are safe with me,” he murmurs, his calloused fingertips spreading to cup his hand to her cheek - “No one dare watch you. No one would dare hurt you. If someone were to hurt you, I do not care to think of how I would defend you.. how I would protect you. They should pray a doctor is near if someone were to ever have the thought of harming a single hair on your beautiful head. I will always protect you. I vow it already. Until this day forward..”
He pauses - his opposite hand cups her cheek, bringing her forehead to his, “Only one more day until you are my wife. This party is just one last bump in the road until we are one. You say the word, Your Grace - and I will immediately escort you out to wherever you want.”
The Duchess smiles, shaking off the lurking paranoia in her gut and focusing on Peter’s comforting words.
“Let us go on and get things over with, my dear Peter,” she says, sweetly grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallways towards the main staircase of the manor. “Peter, do you remember running down these halls in the summers?” She says as she continues to lead him towards the party.
“Anthony Bridgerton chasing us down the hallway wearing a white sheet to appear as a ghost is something I will never forget,” Peter says with a laugh. “He made sure the candles were always blown out and then appeared as the ghost. Mr. Cobblestone?”
“Cobblesworth!” she exclaims, rounding the corner, still pulling Peter behind her, “why on earth Ant thought that was a frightening name, I shall never-“.
“Of course I find the two of you running down the halls like you are mere children,” Lady May’s voice rang out, stopping both Lord Peter and the Duchess in their tracks. She smiles at the couple, nodding her head towards the staircase, “You two are needed downstairs. Your guests are expecting you.”
Lord Peter extends his arm towards the Duchess, holding his wide hand out, “Shall we, my dear fiancé?” He smirks, bouncing his brows at her. A small laugh erupts from the Duchess as she places her gloved hand into his, “We shall, my dear Peter.”
The betrothed step forward towards the top of the grand staircase lined with flowers and glowing lanterns extending down to the crowded dance floor where people began to stop and stare at the beautiful couple descending down the stairs.
“You look absolutely breathtaking,” Peter whispers to his bride. “I feel as if I cannot fathom that this is truly our own engagement ball.”
“I feel as if we are playing make believe, Peter,” the Duchess breathes, glancing his way. “This moment feels like a dream. Are we truly to marry tomorrow? We simply cannot be this old.”
Peter lets out a laugh as they reach the end of the staircase and step onto the marble dance floor, immediately greeted by Lady Danbury and Sarah.
“Lord Peter. Your Grace,” the two women curtsy to the couple.
“Sarah, Lady Danbury,” the Duchess smiles, reaching her hands out to two women. “This is beautiful, beyond my dreams - beautiful. It would not be so without the two of you, and of course - our lovely Lady May.”
May smiles and reaches her hand out to cup the Duchess’ shoulder, “This has truly been our pleasure, Your Grace. I simply cannot believe that tonight is a celebration for the two of you.. you still are those rambunctious children to me. Oh,” she pauses, tears beginning to form in her kind eyes before she quietly clears her throat, “Nevermind me. Tonight is a night for joy. I truly hope the two of you enjoy yourselves greatly.”
Peter clears his throat, gently wrapping his arm around Lady May’s shoulder and placing a tender kiss on her forehead, “oh, how I love you.” He looks down at her and scrunches his nose with a smile - “Though, I am convinced that you want me to shed a tear this evening, Aunt May.”
She lets out a scoffing laugh and touches her pointer finger to the tip of Peter’s nose, “Go, get drinks - enjoy yourselves. Us old hags will be around.”
Peter turns to his betrothed, holding out his hand to her - “My dear Bluebell, would you care for a dance?”
The Duchess smirks up at her fiancé, placing her hand in his - “I truly thought you would never ask, my dear Peter.”
Lord Peter leads his Bluebell through the crowd as the music plays on, pausing as they reach the middle of the dance floor.
The party guests dance around where the couple stands, just feet apart from one another underneath the ornate, candle lit chandelier in the vast ballroom. Peter steps towards his soon to be bride, slightly bowing his head to her - a smile spreading across her beautiful face before she replies with a small curtsy.
Peter reaches his hand out, fingertips gently brushing along the fabric of her gown, bringing her closer to his chest before placing his flat palm onto her lower back. Simply touching the Duchess had Peter nearly breathless, but he proceeds - his vacant hand tenderly wrapping around hers as he guides them, beginning to dance along with the crowd.
“I am so pleased to no longer have to lead us in dancing, Peter,” the Duchess giggles as they dance around the room. “Your foot has not once touched mine. I am impressed, Parker.”
Peter lets out a loud laugh, “I am also no longer shorter than you.. by far.”
“Lord Parker!” Anthony Bridgerton exclaims as he and his wife, Kate, near the couple on the ballroom floor, waltzing towards them with eager smiles.
“In the flesh, Lord Bridgerton! You must be Kate!” Peter speaks over the music. The beautiful woman in Anthony Bridgerton’s arms nods with a small smile, “I am!”
“Ah, well - I give you my sincerest apologies and condolences for having to put up with my dear old mate!” Peter jokes. “It takes a special woman to tolerate Anthony Bridgerton!”
The Duchess lets out a snort and Anthony scoffs, his tone playful as he says - “Peter Parker, I had planned to toast you and your beautiful fiancé, however I shall now refrain from that due to your blatant rudeness!”
“Please, I beg of you! Show me mercy, Lord Bridgerton!” Peter says dramatically as the song ends, “Please, Ant - forgive my unpleasantness and toast me!”
Anthony rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a devilish smile as he claps his hands, “I would like to propose a toast to the beautiful couple!” The crowd silences, turning towards where the four stood in the middle of the dance floor.
The staff hurriedly disperse drinks to the party guests and hosts - most everyone grabbing a beverage from the trays from which they were being served; the Duchess and Lord Peter receiving their drinks hand-delivered.
With drinks in hand the crowd listens on as Lord Anthony Bridgerton speaks, “I have had the pleasure of knowing the soon to be bride and groom since I was a small boy,” he pauses, looking towards Peter and his Bluebell, flashing them a knowing look before he continues, “Actually - I have had the privilege of knowing these two since before I can remember. In fact, we used to play in this very home.” He looks up at the beautiful glass ceiling - the stars still shining brightly down upon him - though the amber glow of the candlestick chandelier illuminated the room. “I believe I can speak for all of us children who got to spend the summers running through these halls and playing make believe when I say that these are hallowed grounds. This home is magic. The family that resided here was magic.”
Anthony looks at the Duchess, his dark eyes so kind - as if he were a boy again as he spoke - “oh, the make believe games we would play.. This home used to be a pirate ship… or - or a mythical castle… and now it is your home, Your Grace; soon to be the home you share with Lord Parker. Hopefully one day, a home where the small patter of feet hitting the floor resides again.”
The crowd is full of sporadic giggles.
Peter and the Duchess look to one another, exchanging loving glances before turning back to Anthony, who continues - “Lord Parker, Your Grace… I pray you have a life filled with immense joy, prosperity - and that you will always and forever share a passionate love for one another.”
Anthony raises his glass, looking around the room and winking at Kate, “Please, raise your glass with me in honor of the beautiful couple.”
The crowd of people raise their glass-filled hands to the sky as Anthony says - “Cheers!”
“Cheers!” The crowd answers in return before taking a sip from their glass, cheering and clapping as the music starts back up.
“Anthony,” the Duchess coos, stepping towards him. “That was absolutely beautiful. Thank you.”
“Ant, you should be in politics the way you commanded that crowd!” Peter quips, poking his fingertips towards Anthony’s ribs, causing him to retaliate with a shoulder to Peter’s - poking him back. “Only if you do it with me!”
“Lady Bridgerton,” the Duchess smiles, stepping towards the striking woman in purple. “It is so lovely to finally meet the woman who stole my mate’s heart.” She scrunches her nose, leaning towards Kate and gently grabbing onto her hand, whispering - “You are far too beautiful for Anthony Bridgerton. Who put you up to this marriage?”
Kate bites her lips between her teeth - trying to contain a smile before letting out a chuckle and squeezing the Duchess’ hand - “Anthony told me you are as humorous as you are beautiful. It is so nice to finally meet you, Your Grace.”
“Ah - formalities…” the Duchess smiles, “Peter has started calling me Blue as of late, and I quite like it. So how about that, Lady Bridgerton?”
“If I call you Blue you shall call me Kate. No more formalities, yes?” Kate replies with a squeeze of her hand before Anthony and Peter approach them.
“Mrs. Bridgerton - we are needed in the drawing room,” Anthony smiles, squeezing Kate’s side - her beautiful face turning into an embarrassed smile just as Peter turns to the Duchess.
Peter’s soft lips brush against her ear as he leans into the Duchess - one arm barely brushing against her waist as he whispers , “We are needed in the foyer - Lady Danbury’s carriage leaves within the half hour. We must see her out.”
“We shall see you onward into the evening,” Anthony says, pulling his wife away from the crowd.
“See you, Bridgerton,” Peter says with a half smile, turning towards the Duchess - his hand urging her towards the main entrance of the mansion.
They walk towards the crowd and into the now quiet entrance of the home, meeting Lady Danbury as she awaits her departure. She stands, gripping her cane just as her carriage pulls up to the open front doors of the manor -, she turns towards the couple, smiling sweetly - “This evening was absolutely beautiful. I will see the two of you tomorrow evening.” She sighs, looking between the couple before she says, “Enjoy the rest of this event. Cherish it, for tomorrow you become husband and wife.”
Just as Lady Danbury steps into the carriage, Peter is pulled away by - “Benedict Bridgerton,” he turns, placing his hand on his friend’s back, “Just the man I was looking for.”
Benedict stops and turns to Peter, his eyes glancing quickly to the Duchess before averting back to Peter, “Lord Parker, Duchess.” He bows before taking a small sip from the glass in his hand, “Thanks for having me.”
The Duchess notices a strange tingling feeling growing on her cheeks, which also feel flush all of the sudden. Benedict and Peter exchange conversation, but their words are far too muffled for the Duchess to understand - and now that she is trying to read their lips she’s realized that her vision has grown blurry too.
She blinks, trying to see a little clearer, just as Peter places his hand on her back - his voice is muffled as he speaks. The Duchess turns to Peter, her vision finally clearing a bit as he says, “Are you okay?”
The Duchess slightly shakes her head, looking dazed and a little frightened before she says, “I - yes, yes - Peter. I believe I may have just had a few too many drinks this evening.” She looks over to Benedict and then back to Peter before she says, “Don’t mind me, you two seemed as if you were in deep conversation - I will go get a breath of fresh air outside and find you later, Peter.” She nods to her friend, “Benedict.”
“Would you like for us to escort you?” Peter says before the Duchess can leave, his honey eyes pierced through her blurred vision - “Are you sure you are alright, my Bluebell?”
“Do not worry about me. Do not spoil your fun with Benedict on my behalf - I shall only be a moment, Peter,” she says before excusing herself.
-
The Duchess stands yards away from the beautiful mansion - watching on as the blurry silhouettes of party guests dance around the ballroom. Muffled music plays on as she turns towards the babbling, wide creek behind her - one of her most favorite parts of her property. Limestone rock glistens underneath the stream, glinting off of the distant amber glow coming from the bustling manor.
The water seems to sparkle due to the Duchess’ growing dizziness. The chitters of animals and humming of insects from the forest just beyond the creek grow louder, overwhelming her senses.
She falls to the ground with a grunt as her head hits the grass, her vision meeting the blurred starry sky above where she lay.
“There you are, Your Grace,” a voice says from above her as a man appears in her vision.
“Peter?” She moans, barely able to open her eyes. “Something seems to be the matter. I cannot stand.”
A hand reaches down and scoops the Duchess up from the ground and onto her feet, a strong arm wrapping around her waist as her body starts to fail again, her head going limp as she stares up towards the night sky.
“Curare,” the man says, scooping her legs into his arm, cradling her as he continues - “Do you know what Curare is, Your Grace?”
She lets out a small moan, her body completely limp in his arms - her weak eyes fixated on the sky.
“Curare is a paralyzing agent, Your Grace. It’s a poison that weakens your skeletal muscles; too much Curare can cause death,” the man says as the Duchess’ eyes finally meet him.
The tall brute that tried to assault her at the Bridgerton Ball months ago stood with her tired body in his arms. The same man that snuck into her room and hid in her wardrobe for hours hoping to rob her of her innocence, hoping for a scandal to get the Duchess to marry.
“Fredrick,” she whispers, barely able to speak at all.
Her heart races realizing she cannot scream for Peter. She cannot run. There is no escape.
A devilish smile spreads across his face, “Curare comes from a plant boiled and strained into bitter paste. How were your special made drinks this evening, Duchess? Could you notice the bitterness, or are you so innocent and sheltered that you do not know what spirits taste like?”
The Duchess’ eyes are filled with hot tears as she whispers, “Why?”
“Simply? I want your riches, and I truly do not care how I attain them at this point - so you shall come with me and I shall leave this ransom note right here on the grass for your fiancé to find later on in the evening when he cannot locate you,” Sir Fredrick says with a smile. “And who knows what could happen to the poor, defenseless Duchess while Lord Parker tries to locate her?”
The Duchess lets out a small, close-mouthed whimper as Sir Fredrick tosses her over his shoulder and tosses the ransom note to the ground and begins to walk away with the Duchess and into the dark night.
-
“Bridgerton, I simply cannot do another shot,” Peter yells over the string music and the roaring crowd of party guests. His eyes scan around the room before he turns back to Benedict, “One moment, Ben - I must check on my beautiful fiancé.” He holds up a finger and makes his way to the French doors leading towards the stone path to the creek, recalling seeing the Duchess head that way for a breath of fresh air.
Peter crosses the threshold to the cool night air, carding his hands through his greased locks as he surveys the waterline, not seeing his future bride.. but seeing something on the ground in the distance.
He jogs over without hesitation, nearing the cream-colored paper laying on the grass, his fingertips clasping the page reading the penned note demanding money in exchange for the Duchess’ life.
All of the life leaves Peter’s body as his stomach drops, his throat drying immediately, unable to even swallow as he desperately searches the area for any glimpse of his bride - his best friend.
Tears brim in his frightened eyes as he falls to his knees, gripping the earth beneath him as he tries to keep his composure - though hot tears run down his handsome face, dripping onto his suit.
He turns towards the manor, screaming from the very core of his soul, wailing “Benedict! Ant!” He cries - screaming out for the Duchess before something clicks in his head, something he had only felt once before.
Rage.
——————————
Well, dear Reader - what do you think? I’d love to know. What will happen to the Duchess? Will Peter save her in time? Find out in Part Six!
I hope you enjoyed! Sorry for such a long wait!
- <3 Cait
A Lord & A Lady Taglist: @loserbee14 @fk12b @todaywasafairytale07 @bellestalesoffiction @nayspy @splintered-emotions @dark-night-sky-99 @panic-at-space-camp @dxmerons @jeezlouiisee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @strangerdangerwrites @spiidergirlsworld @softyutae @kas-1 @lovelyweepingrebel
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