#cookie related shenanigans

[appleciderjulie]

note to self: make cookies with friends more often 🧍‍♀️

[quibbs126]

Random thing, but I found some concept art for Timekeeper Cookie, and to me, this one in particular looks like a younger Timekeeper fresh on the job. Like, if Timekeeper was a completely separate Cookie from Croissant, and this was them when they had just started working with the TBD, probably as a mechanic or engineer

Here’s the full pic if you want to see

[cookiesandbiscuits]

Started watching Doom At Your Service!!!

[awolfnamedluna]

*talking abt what my cookie run kingdom s/i would be with my friend*

me: wait. wait. big brain. huge brain

my friend: *waiting in anticipation*

me: nuclear/radiation cookie

my friend: YOOOOOOOO

[shieldofiron]

No relation to anything whatsoever but imagine the utter shenanigans that Pepper and Steve get up to when billy is out the house. Imagine them.

Billy would be jealous, if she wasn't so cute. Five pounds nothing, sleek black fur and the biggest greenest eyes you've ever seen.

Eyes that were currently staring up at him like, "why are you home so early?"

Steve was giving him much the same look, though with less disappointment, flicking off the radio that had been loudly blaring 'Juno' by Sabrina Carpenter. Steve's current favorite song.

"What the hell is this?" Billy smirked.

"Baking," Steve said.

"With Pepper?" Billy frowned.

"No... well... she likes to be in the kitchen while I do it."

"She's covered in flour."

"She just got underfoot. She hasn't been on the counter, I swear," Steve raised his hands.

"Mrrowp," Pepper chimed in.

"Was she... singing with you?" Billy asked.

"No. Oh my god. She's a cat?"

Billy had been almost positive he'd heard a yowl along with Steve's crackly baritone.

But he let it go, sneaking a hand around Steve's back to pinch his ass. And the cookies, it turned out, were nothing short of magical.

Did this turn into a Bewitched au? You tell me.

[chibinasuu]

chibinasuu's masterlist

✿ = platonic ‪ ❤︎‬ = romantic ✿/❤︎ = can be interpreted as platonic or romantic ✦︎ = requested ⏾ = canon characters only (non-x reader)

☆ One-shots

Straw Hats

Ghost Ship (Halloween Special) ✿ ✦︎ My Jolly Sailor Bold ✿ ✦︎

Sanji

Little Mouse (MouseZoan!Reader) ❤︎ Sugar Cookies ❤︎ Treasure (OPLA!Sanji & Mermaid!Reader) ✿ ✦︎

Zoro

Date? ❤︎

☆ Ficlets/Drabbles

Multi-characters (separate)

"Buddy" | Luffy, Zoro, Sanji ❤︎ ✦︎ Much-needed nap | Zoro, Sanji ❤︎ ✦︎

Sanji

Homesick. ⏾

☆ Headcanons

Straw Hat guys reacting to period pain simulator ⏾ ✦︎

☆ Thousand Sunny Slice-of-Life Series

⤷ Find more details in the masterlist here

A collection of 10 stories, each depicting domestic, slice-of-life moments between the Reader and different members of the Straw Hat Pirates. All of the stories are one-shots and not directly related to one another.

Good Mornings | Sanji ✿/❤︎ Money and Tangerines | Nami ✿/❤︎ Voice Mail | Usopp ✿/❤︎ Sweet Treats | Chopper ✿ Drunken Shenanigans | Zoro ✿/❤︎ On the Same Page | Robin ✿/❤︎ Happy Working Song | Brook ✿ Steady as She Goes | Jinbe ✿ White Noise | Franky ✿/❤︎ Captain’s Seat | Luffy ✿/❤︎

☆ Cozy Holidays Event (ongoing)

A collection of cozy, fluffy fics and drabbles to ring in the holiday season, featuring various characters x reader.

⤷ event main page ⤷ masterlist

[mayasaurusss]

The witching hour

Hello all! I have decided some months back to give all of you a threat ( :D ) for Halloween!

Most of the prompts have been taken by the wonderful list of @sassy-ahsoka-tano which you can find here! If any of you want to take a shot at this, I highly reccomend reading that post!

For the enitrety of October I will post blurbs, headcanons and quick oneshots dedicated to Yellowjackets (and other fandoms) everyday!

They will contain: supernatural, horror, fluff, crack and occasional nsfw.

You can see that I left some days blank, those are empty for your suggestions!

As more the month progresses the prompts will go from general autumn to supernatural related, so be sure to use this rule if you want to request a specific thing!

Sadly I don't have that much time to make them very lenghty, so they will be aproximatley one to four pages long (if I am lucky that day).

That's it! Have fun reading and happy Halloween!

Mushroom hunting -Lottie Matthews

Autumn in the wilderness -no pairings

“You have a leaf in your hair” -Lottie Matthews

Making caramel apples -Natalie Scattorcio

Visiting a video store -Adult Van Palmer

Getting drunk at Oktoberfest -Adult Van Palmer

Bonfire with friends -no pairings

Visiting a pumpkin patch -Natalie Scattorcio

Carving a pumpkin -Natalie Scattorcio

Baking Halloween cookies -Natalie Scattorcio

Werewolf girlfriend shenanigans -Lottie Matthews

Walk through the cemetery -Shauna Shipman

"Well...you grabbed my hand first" -Lee Harker

“Why don’t you take off that mask? I’d like to see your face.” -Shauna Shipman

Flirting with a haunted house actor -Shauna Shipman

Getting freaky in the haunted house -Shauna Shipman

“Come on, it’s just a haunted house! It’ll be like a walk in the park.” / “More like a walk through hell.” -Natalie Scattorcio

 Wearing a couple costume -Rhiannon Lewis

Watching a scary movie -Shauna Shipman

Announcement -not a fic

Painting spooky canvas together -Adult Shauna Shipman

Announcement -not a fic

The witch's helper -Adult Lottie Matthews

Witchy encounters -Adult Misty

Werewolf boyfriend -transmasc Shaun Shipman

When your werewolf lover has eaten too much chocolate -transmasc Shaun Shipman

Vampire shenanigans - Rhiannon Lewis

Fortune tellers at a fair -Lottie, Shauna, Jackie, Natalie, Misty

"What do you mean you've never gone trick or treating?!" -Adult Natalie

"Search for me in the night" -Rhiannon Lewis

The Witch -Natalie Scartoccio

[cressidagrey]

New Pursuits - Chapter 4: Reading

Summary:

The shadows decide that Azriel needs a hobby.

5 times when said hobby-related shenanigans didn’t end so well…and the one time where it may end up better than Azriel could ever have imagined.

Warnings:

Rhys bashing

(super pretty dividers thanks to @saradika)

He did not trust himself to not accidentally carve off his hand that evening. 

Not when his hands were shaking with…something. 

He wasn’t even sure with what. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was feeling. 

He didn’t know. 

Would you like a book, Master? The shadows asked quietly. 

They hadn’t said anything yet. 

Which was good. He wasn’t quite sure if he could stand them coddling him right now. He wasn’t sure if he wasn’t going to…blow up. 

But then…then the shadows gently swirled around him, curled themselves against his skin and something inside him eased. 

There was no need to fight. No need to get angry. No need to do anything but…

Yes, he agreed. Pick one out for me. Something without love. Or death. Or monsters.

Nothing that reminded him of…

Nothing that reminded him of Elain. Nothing that reminded him of Mor. 

Nothing that…Nothing that reminded him of anything like that. 

Of what he couldn’t have…

That had just become…very obvious this evening. When Elain and Lucien had announced their intent for a mating ceremony. 

He hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t even thought anything. He had kept up the walls of his mind even against Rhys’ adamant claws. 

He had just been…nothing. Become nothing. 

He was good at that. At least something he was good at. 

So he took that bath. And he dressed in his sleep clothes and he pulled on a pair of thick woollen socks his mother had made and gifted to him last Solstice…

And he curled up on the chair on his balcony and stared in the starry night sky of Velaris. 

Beautiful. Always beautiful. 

But even that couldn’t take some of the weight off his chest that day. Even that couldn’t…

None of that could make tonight better. 

The shadows came, dropping a blanket on his lap and then handing him a book…A children’s book. The brightly coloured cover of that made that very obvious. 

And then they perched themselves on his shoulder, a comforting weight…they were there. Regardless of what else was going on in his life…They were there. 

It will be fine, Master, they promised him. Softly. Imploringly.

But was it? 

Was it really going to be fine? 

It wasn’t like he really had another option, did he? 

It would be fine because it needed to be fine…and it wasn’t like…It wasn’t like he was completely out of it with grief and heartbreak and ready to burn down half of Velaris with pure undiluted despair. 

He was just…tired. Fed up maybe, but even that was blunted by now…Sad, definitely, feeling like he was unfairly treated…but the rest of it had blunted down into a grey mess of…nothing. 

The shadows tightened on his shoulder for a moment. 

Rhys got what he wanted. Elain was happy.

A moment later, a glass of bright red juice was put on the low table next to him…a plate of still-warm chocolate cookies next to it. 

His shadows were really worried. Otherwise, they wouldn’t go to the lengths of finding him cherry juice from the Summer Court…a raw delicacy. And some chocolate cookies as well…his favourite.  

Thank you. 

Of course, Master. Read your book. 

So he snatched up a cookie, cracked open the book…and allowed himself to sink into a world that was much easier than the real one. Where there was no death and no monsters and no romantic love either and absolutely nothing but an adventure that involved a dragon. 

He could feel more than hear his brother approach. Not Cassian. 

He could have dealt with Cassian.

But it was Rhys that landed on his balcony, wings gleaming. 

“Have you come to gloat?” Azriel asked drily. He didn’t even bother looking up from his book. 

He wasn’t in the mood to clash wills with Rhys right now.

“What? No, of course not,“ Rhys snapped. 

“Then what do you want, Rhys?” he asked with a sigh. 

“Are you reading a children’s book? “ Rhys asked incredulously, sidestepping the question and Azriel shrugged. He was done. It didn’t matter. They could tease him about it if they wanted. 

Though he was quite sure that his shadows would take their own sort of revenge. 

Rhys’ violet eyes jumped over to the low table that held his glass and the cookies and Azriel rolled his eyes. 

“It’s just cherry juice.” He was not getting blackout drunk tonight. 

He was not in the mood for that in the slightest.

“Azriel,” Rhys said quietly, imploringly. 

Like he had only come that day, because he worried that Azriel was going to destroy the whole of Prythian in a fit of rage. Or maybe himself. Who knew with Rhys these days. 

“Whatever you think I am going to do, I won’t be doing it,” Az said with a snort. He could imagine a better use of his time. Like some more whittling without accidentally cutting off his hand maybe. 

“You don’t even know what I am thinking,” Rhys said, obviously trying to infuse some humour into his voice.

“No?” Azriel asked drily. “Let me guess. You think I am going to be stupid enough to kill Lucien.”

It was obvious. 

Rhys thought Azriel would be so jealous that he would do that.

Regardless of how ridiculous that notion was. Or how hurtful. 

That he would murder somebody in cold blood for something like that. That he would do that, even if Elain loved him. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he quipped, even when cold ice rage was boiling in his stomach. “Elain made her choice. I respect that.”

He did. 

He would do absolutely nothing to put her happiness in danger. 

“So what are you going to do?” Rhys asked him tightly. 

“Right now? Read my book, drink my cherry juice… eat my chocolate cookies,” Azriel answered evenly. 

“And tomorrow?” Rhys demanded. 

“Train the Priestesses. You wanted a dossier on that new Lord in one of the Northern camps, so I am going to do that. Probably check in with some spies in Spring and Autumn,” he said with a shrug. “Don’t worry, I know how to keep busy.” 

“And otherwise?” Rhys asked him, sounding doubtful, but Azriel just didn’t care anymore.

“Read my book,” he deadpanned. Maybe he would try out whatever new hobby his shadows suggested to him. 

“You could go out with Mor to Rita’s,”  Rhys suggested and Azriel just stared at him. 

He wasn’t quite sure if Rhys was trying to see if he was going to go back to pine over Mor or if it was him thinking that he had just been lusting over Elain so every other female he could scrounge up would be enough to scratch that itch. 

Whatever it was, Azriel wasn’t interested. 

“Mor enjoys her time there much more if I don’t come along,” he said with a shrug, turning back to his book. 

“That’s not…” 

He interrupted Rhys before he could even get out the words. “It is true, Rhys,” he said with a snort. “And you don’t need to suggest that I need to go to a pleasure hall either. You already did that. I am 540 years old. I can just about manage to get laid if I want to, when I want to, thank you very much,” Azriel ended sharply, glaring at Rhys. “Your input is neither needed nor wanted.” 

He watched his brother swallow. “I am sorry.” 

It was an apology. 

Something exceedingly rare to get from Rhys. 

But it was too little, too late. 

“I would maybe take that apology more seriously if it hadn’t come after you got exactly what you wanted, Rhysand,” Azriel responded quietly, his voice cutting. Rhys opened his mouth to respond but Azriel held up his hand. “Don’t. I won’t go after Lucien. Or Elain. Or you. Or try to destroy Autumn Court or Day Court or Night Court or whatever other thing you think I’ll kill in a fit of temper. And in return, you can leave my private life to me, High Lord. Like I am just another subject in your court.”

It was clear that Rhys hadn’t expected that. 

“Azriel.” The way Rhys said his name made him want to give in, to accept the apology…to go right back to where they had been…but he couldn’t. 

He was too angry, too bitter.

“I think that is a very fair bargain, is it not?” Azriel asked, his voice calm even when it was splintering at the edges.  

His continued work and…cooperation. And in return…privacy and being left the fuck alone. 

“You are my brother,” Rhys said quietly. “Az.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Rhys,” Azriel said evenly. “I love you, which is why I am not lunging at you to even the score. Which is why I am asking you to leave me alone. I would appreciate that.”

He hadn’t actually believed Rhys would give in and agree. But something in Azriel’s glare must have made it clear that he was serious.

“Of course,” Rhys agreed softly. “I…if there is anything I can do…let me know.”

But there wasn’t.

Not anymore.

And so he went back to his children’s book that only had a handful of pages left until he snapped it closed.

You did well, Master, the shadows said softly. 

Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. 

I’ll go to sleep, he said tiredly, downing his last bit of cherry juice. Thank you for this .

Of course .

[devilfic]

❝small favor❞

V. the christmas special.

parts: previously / next plot: it's the most beautiful time of the year. pairing: mcu!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: christmas shenanigans, alcohol mentions, harry gets drunk for norman osborn related reasons, peter is a little ball of anxiety because he likes you, can I share with you what jobs I think ned and mj got after graduation. words: 8.4k.

a/n: this was gonna be a two-parter but I thought. no. so instead it's just super long :D

Peter has started visiting more.

There were the surprise visits on weekends. Something was just too important to wait a week, and too important to give you a call, and you liked that he made a note of bringing you food for the trouble. Then he was popping in on Wednesday nights—sometimes Friday mornings—because he'd forgotten to tell you this or he just couldn't wait to tell you that.

And he has texting you more, too. Not super serious things either, and after a few days of it, you had worked the fight or flight reaction to his ringtone out of your system. At some point, you had started feeling like this was becoming... a genuine friendship.

"I mean... I... yeah. We talked about it, didn't we?" Peter stops pouring, brownie batter dribbling off the lip of the bowl, "Friends. I- I think of you as a friend. If you think of me... as a friend."

You gnaw on your pen as you study him. It's another weekend surprise visit, and this time he's brought you boxed brookie batter as an olive branch. You'd actually been busy this time, and so you'd put him to work baking it while you made your vacation list, "It's just... crazy. I mean, we went from being strangers to only seeing each other once a week—purely professionally—and now you bake me things. And we hang out."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing! It's just weird," he continues to pour as you talk, "I used to see you as this unattainable hero. I couldn't believe you trusted me, felt comfortable enough to tell me your name, to care enough that even EDITH knows who I am. And now we're friends."

Peter's nose scrunches at that, and you've never wished more than now that you could see the rest of his face. He starts placing balls of cookie dough in the batter, "You talk about me like I'm Beyoncé or something."

"You're the Beyoncé of superheroes."

"Hey, that is not true. That title goes to Captain Marvel."

"Not to me."

"Well, of course not to you. You're my biggest fan."

"Wow, demoted to a fan already."

Peter slides the pan into the oven, "You know what I mean. You're biased."

"You're starting to sound like Jameson now."

He kicks the oven door closed and hops up onto the kitchen counter next to you, nudging your knee with his knee, "Oh, you haven't heard my Jameson impression. Watch this." Peter clears his throat, clenches his fist, and shakes it in the air, "Spider-Man is a menace and should be charged with domestic terrorism!"

You giggle, "Do more."

"5G isn't giving your kids cancer, it's Spider-Man leaving his webs all over the city!"

"More!"

"Spider-Man is laying eggs in our city's sewers so that one day, all his freaky spider children will rise up and take over New York!"

"Please, keep going."

Peter groans. You see his head tilt toward the notepad in your lap, "How's the vacation going? Or vacation planning, I guess."

You sigh. Your list to pack kept getting longer, and yet, anytime you tried to focus on what to bring, you would just remember something else you needed to do before leaving New York. "How do you think, based on my utter lack of excitement?"

Peter raises a brow, "Whaaat? You're not excited for Miami?"

"I was, but... everything in the world is happening at the same time. Jameson wants me to get two more articles out before I leave and my family wanted me in Florida three days ago. At this rate, I'm just barely going to make it there before Christmas. Not to mention..." You trail off as you look to Peter, whose mask eyes have gone comically wide in interest, "I don't want to leave you all alone."

"You know I've been Spider-Manning since I was like, 14, right?"

"Well, yeah, but- wait, 14?" Peter grimaces. You gloss over it before he can worry himself about it, "Anyway, I just worry. I mean, with Fisk turning the PR tide and God knows what he's planning, I don't wanna just fly to the other side of the country. It feels wrong."

Peter smirks, "Nah, nah. It's fine. I can take care of myself."

"Don't make me remind you about how all of this," you gesture between Peter and the oven, "started." He looks away from you, sheepish. "You know what I mean, right? Maybe I'm overestimating my worth to you, but-"

"You're definitely not. You have no idea how much you mean to me." That stuns you. It stuns both of you, clearly, if Peter's frantic peek at your face was anything to go by. His mouth gapes like a fish out of water for a moment, "I just mean that... you've made being Spidey... easier on me. It's nice knowing someone's actually on my side in this city. So yeah, it will feel really weird without you being just a swing away."

"You can still call, Peter. I won't mind."

"And when your family asks who's bothering you while you're sunbathing on the beach?"

"I mean, my little cousins will be impressed if I name drop Spider-Man."

He smiles. He kicks his feet out, heels bumping the cabinet doors beneath you while silence settles. You take this chance to examine a slight fraying on the fabric of his suit, a hole beginning to form on his upper thigh that you could just fit your pinky through. You remembered a time when his suit was made out of sweatpants and a dream.

He was 14 when he first started all of this. When you were 14, you were stressing over high school essays and alien invasions. You couldn't help but think that maybe he'd lost his youth to this thing. This thing that brought you together.

Spider-Man who, back then, was really a kid. He'd had to grow into it. You couldn't imagine having to grow into that. "Well, that's enough about my holiday plans. What about you?" Peter prepares to answer, then deflates. "What's up?"

He bites his bottom lip, "I don't... have any."

Your heart sinks, "What? Why not?"

"No, no, it's fine. I'll probably be out on patrol making sure everybody else is having a safe, criminal-free winter break."

Sliding off the counter, you come to stand in front of Peter with your arms folded, "Absolutely not."

"Okay, before you say anything-"

"It's Christmas, Peter! You're supposed to take time off! Be with friends and family. If you never take a break, you'll wear yourself out."

"Just hear me out-"

"No! I won't have it. You're not the only hero in New York. You're taking Christmas off. I don't care if I have to stuff you in a carry-on and take you with me but you will not be working-"

One hand clamps around the back of your head and the other silences you, turning your complaints into mush, "If you would let me finish..." you huff indignantly against his hand, "you'd know that a friend of mine is throwing a Christmas party and I was invited. There. I have plans."

Your face softens. "Really?" You ask, but the sound is muffled and it comes out more like, "Will-ee?"

Peter laughs, hand slipping from your mouth, "Really. I'll at least take a few hours off. Maybe more if I fall into a food coma."

Peter's other hand is still cradling your head, but you don't bring it to his attention. "You promise? I won't have to fly back early and check up on you, will I? 'Cause I'll do it."

"I wouldn't stop you." You glower, making Peter's mask eyes squint with amusement, "I promise."

"Sometimes I think you like making me worry over you."

"Would you believe me if I said that I'm just this awful all the time?"

"Yes, but that would make me worry even more."

The hand at your neck gently curls around the side of your throat, Peter's thumb angling your chin up to his own. The brush of it makes you tremble just slightly.

Was he trying to make you dissolve into a puddle?

"I'll be okay. Just... come back to the city, will ya? Don't fall in love with Miami."

You place one of your hands over the hand on your throat. The other hovers somewhere near his knee on the countertop, unsure of yourself. When you admire his exposed mouth, you think of Peter. Parker.

You remember you hadn't actually talked about that since it happened. It was Peter's intention to skirt around Parker, regardless of how certain you were that they were the same person. It was all in jest, sure, but some small part of you (some incredibly small, minuscule, microscopic part of you) wondered if your reporter brain just fit the two pieces together because it wanted them to fit.

Perhaps he wasn't Peter Parker. Perhaps this really was all a coincidence, and perhaps aliens didn't fall from the sky and gods didn't save the world.

You wouldn't push him on it. You wouldn't look into it either, because reporter brain be damned. You cared more about the Peter you knew than the Peter you didn't.

You smile up at him, "How could I? Miami doesn't have you."

"Nice to see you could finally make it, kiddo." Jillian is grinning at you when you arrive, her baby tucked at her hip and her wife entertaining the little monster over her shoulder. She sees the winded look on your face and immediately motions you over, pressing a hand to your cheek, "Did you crawl out of a snowdrift? You're freezing!"

You lean into it, chasing the warmth in hopes that it would restore some feeling to your skin, "The storm's getting awful out there."

"Came outta nowhere, didn't it?" Jillian's wife snorts, booping the baby's nose. "We almost didn't risk coming with the little one, it was so bad."

Said little one looks perfectly warm wrapped up in her blanket, an envious sight as you shiver and shuck off your coat to hang. You would offer the kid a boop on the nose yourself, but with your fingers frozen solid around your offering—a plate of sugar cookies—you don't want to make her cry. You give her a smile instead.

"Oh, and would you believe it?" Jillian whispers, sidling up to you, primed for gossip, "We've got a real treat here tonight. Take a wild guess who decided to show up."

"Jonah's wife?"

Jillian cackles, "God no. The stalker."

As soon as she says the name, your eyes zero in on him.

He's wearing that plaid shirt again, but the collar and cuffs are all that peek out from underneath a wrinkly blue sweater. His hair is free and gelled back, revealing his nervous expression more clearly. Nursing a cup of apple cider, he just barely looks like he wants to be here. But then he catches your eye across the room.

And he waves.

"Oh my," Jillian teases, "you must've left quite the impression if he came all this way just to see you."

"He did not come just to see me." You reply in a hushed tone, but she laughs at you all the same.

"Sure. And that's not him heading over right now, even though he's been hugging the wall all night."

You jerk your head to where Parker was standing, and, sure enough, he's pursuing you.

You part from Jillian before she can get the chance to embarrass you (she accepts your cookies as payment), and so you all but jog to meet him halfway.

He doesn't get the chance to be polite before you're interrogating him, "Where did you go?"

"Uh... What?"

"At the gala. When I ran back inside the ballroom, I couldn't find you anywhere."

Peter's eyes slowly widen, "You went back inside?"

"Answer the question, please."

"Wh- I... I was there. You didn't see me?"

"No, I didn't."

"It got crazy after Fisk rushed the stage. I got swept up in the crowd. You must've missed me."

"Really? 'Cause I was with the crowd, you know. In front of the building? Where Fisk was giving his big speech about how he saved the day? I didn't see you anywhere."

Peter blinks, then gasps as if he'd just remembered something important, "You know what? That's right. I went to go find Harry. I wanted to make sure he was alright, and then I couldn't find you in the crowd so I just assumed... I'm sorry for leaving you back there all alone." You watch as he fumbles for something convincing, "I texted Spider-Man about it, though. He said you were safe."

You fold your arms, "...Is that all he said about me?"

"Well, that. And something about your conspiracy theory?"

"Conspiracy theory."

The topic change gets some of the tension in Peter's shoulders melting away, replaced with a smile faint enough to not pass as overtly smug. He waits for one of your co-workers to move out of earshot before continuing, "You think... I'm Spider-Man."

Your jaw tightens. You know that anyone would draw the same conclusions you did after that night. You also know that no matter how logical your reasoning is, you sound highly illogical when you admit to it out loud. If you brought up the same accusation to Jillian or Jameson, they'd both laugh you out of the office.

You have to stand your ground, though. If there was one thing you were learning about Peter, it was that he was easy to fluster, "And if I do?"

"I'm flattered, really, but I don't really have the hand-eye coordination."

You know it's bullshit. He should know you know it's bullshit. If it hadn't been for his quick thinking, you and Harry would've been trampled under the masses at the gala. It's bullshit and he's waiting for his checkmate that will never come.

You do not give it a second thought. You toss your phone at Peter's head.

And he catches it. Of course he does. He stops it mere inches from his face.

If anyone saw you try to give him a concussion, they don't come over to question you on it. "Can you..." Peter starts after a breath, a bit dazed, "...can you stop trying to hit me?"

You go to defend yourself because, at the very least, you hadn't meant to try to punch Peter—which meant it didn't count—when someone barrels right into you.

And, to prove you right twice in a row, Peter is quick to catch you. He scoops you up into his arms before you end up a reporter pancake on the floor. One of your co-workers, already blitzed off spiked eggnog, had bumped you on their way to the drinks table for what looked like the umpteenth time tonight, and didn't have enough marbles to apologize before bumping someone else.

Peter is careful in how he holds you. There's that unmistakable strength behind his grip, but also... he was gentle. He felt safe.

You don't make to escape just yet, all your bravado knocked right out of you. "Jesus, you okay?" His eyes dart over to your co-worker and a scowl turns his expression sour, "Jonah should put a cap on the drinks."

You feel more than embarrassed stumbling to your feet, even more so when Peter still coddles you after you're standing upright. "I'm fine. Thanks." Peter's looking at you, brows drawn together, with so much concern it makes that second thought from earlier come in hot with a sizable topping of shame, "Talk about instant karma."

Then it's gone. Peter laughs and... it sounds just like your Peter. Undeniably. You can't help but give in. For a fleeting moment, the question of secret identities has melted away and it's just the two of you, giggling about something silly.

You're ashamed enough to apologize for throwing your phone at his head when the laughter dies down. You succeed in stealing it back and lead him over to the windows, far away from any more drunken disasters, "It's alright. I've had worse thrown at me before."

You raise an eyebrow, "Oh? Like what?"

His voice catches in his throat at first, "A... carton of expired milk. High school bully, Flash Thompson. We were both on the same academic decathlon team but he never gave up on his dream of professional baseball."

"Flash Thompson? You mean, Silicon Valley, MIT grad, tech startup millionaire Flash Thompson?"

Peter winces, "The one and only."

You frown at the distant look on Peter's face, aware of some regret there at the mention of Flash. "You and Harry went to ESU together, right? Is that where you always wanted to go?"

Peter shakes his head, but a smile comes to his face regardless, "MIT was my first choice, actually. But... even with a scholarship, I just couldn't imagine leaving New York behind. So I stayed. Went to ESU. Helped my Aunt May with the mortgage on her first house since my... my uncle passed. And now I'm selling pictures of Spider-Man to pay my rent."

You can't help the way you soften. "I'm so sorry about your uncle, Peter. Your Aunt May is lucky to have you around."

His eyelids flutter closed for a breath, and his smile grows wider. If it were even possible. "I'm lucky to have her."

You stand there together in silence after that, but it feels more comfortable than before. All the scrutiny and speculation you'd come in with had faded away, and now you were left wondering more about Peter. His hopes, his dreams, his life before all of this. What would it have been like if he'd gone to MIT? Where would you be? Or Spider-Man?

Peter's eyes peel open, "So, what about you?"

"Oh. Well, I took a shine to my school newspaper. After... everything in 2012, I knew the world would never be the same. So I had dreams of becoming a journalist, covering the street, being the first on the scene. Took my ass to college on part-time jobs and a dream, and interned at nearly every newspaper in the city before Jameson gave me a shot here. As much as I can't stand the way he talks about Spidey... he's not that bad of a guy. All things considered."

Peter agrees, "He did hire you, so..."

"Yeah, well," you lean your cheek against the window, glass cooling your blush, "At least Spidey doesn't hold it against me... but, I have to ask: why the Bugle? I mean, with photos like yours, you should be fighting off every publication in the city. Instead you turn in these... absolute masterpieces, freelancing, for a guy who can't even give you due credit, and you only stop by for a paycheck."

Peter looks to the window, the wind howling over a crooner's cover of Santa Baby. The storm was still raging on outside, and you dreaded the thought of having to walk through it to get back home. The taxis wouldn't have much luck either from the looks of it. "I... like my job, but it's not what I wanna do forever. I don't care about fame or Pulitzer prizes. It's always been about taking care of me and my Aunt May, and Jameson is a lot of things but he's always understood that. He pays me enough that I can have a place of my own and a little leftover for my aunt, and he doesn't ask questions.

"I don't need to be seen. And that's the whole point, isn't it?" His expression gradually warms as he recalls something, "It's not who's behind the lens that matters, but who's in front of it."

Your expression warms too, "I can see why Spidey likes you."

A notification disturbs the moment. Raising a finger at Peter, you check the latest notification... and your stomach drops.

Peter takes a step forward, sensing the change in atmosphere, "What? What is it?"

"My flight's been cancelled. I was leaving tomorrow for Miami but the storm..."

"Oh. Man, I'm sorry."

"I should've left sooner, I should've left when my family..." You lose the motivation to even finish your sentence, feeling exhausted all at once, "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm stuck here for Christmas."

Peter stuffs his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet as he searches for something to say. You're about to tell him not to worry about it when he speaks up, "You know," he starts, the uncertainty in his voice giving you pause, "it's no... Miami, but my aunt throws this Christmas party every year? For Christmas Eve. We invite a few friends over for dinner. She'd love it if you came."

"Oh, Peter, that's sweet but... I don't really want to intrude on a friend thing-"

"No, no, it's okay! Anyone can come. It'll just be my aunt, some of her co-workers from F.E.A.S.T., a few of my friends, my ex-girlfriend-"

"Your- what?"

"Oh. Well, I mean, we were friends before we dated. Well... technically? She sort of just... hung around me and Ned in high school and then we started dating for a while but then we broke up in university. But we stayed friends. Became better friends, actually. So, she's my ex but also a really good friend. I promise it's not weird or anything. She's super cool about it. And I am too! Her name's MJ. I think you'll like her."

You stare at Peter. You think you see a bead of sweat twinkle on his forehead underneath the Christmas lights above.

He insists that you're welcome to come, and staying home alone for Christmas would be pretty hypocritical after your argument with Spider-Man.

Spider-Man.

"...and Spider-Man will be there."

Spider-Man?

You abruptly lock eyes with Peter. "Spider-Man?"

Peter's smile is tight-lipped, "Yeah." His voice cracks. "I mean, he's just stopping by real quick, but I invited him. He might not come. But... he also might."

Was this the friend of his throwing a Christmas party? Why in the world would Peter (Parker) invite you to the same party Spider-Man would be at, unless he could stand in the same room as him at the exact same time? There'd be no other way to convince you otherwise, and you'd be forced to accept that they really were two completely different people.

Yeah, right.

You'd go to this party and suss it out for yourself.

And it wouldn't hurt, would it? Peter was nice, if not the most awkward person you've ever met. To offer you a place at his aunt's Christmas dinner not long after hurling an object at his head was a sign of true Christmas spirit. You could learn a thing or two from him, "Okay. You've convinced me. What's your number? You can text me the address."

Peter blanks for a moment, "Um... yeah, um..." You watch him flounder, growing increasingly suspicious, "Can I see your phone?"

You drop your phone in his hand. His fingers move quickly across the keyboard before returning it to you. Peter Parker is now in your contacts. You check the number against Spidey's but there isn't a match. "Thanks," you glance at his wobbly smile, "I sent you a text."

Peter gestures behind him, "Oh, cool, awesome. Will you excuse me for a sec? I gotta use the restroom." And he doesn't wait for you to affirm before he's rushing down the hall and out of sight.

A full minute passes before you receive a text back from Peter.

15 Amfan Ave Forest Hills, NY 11375 7pm :) Hope you can make it! He never shuts up about you *I *shut

Hm.

So... I hear you're throwing things at people now Who told you that? You lose one phone, then you try to bludgeon an innocent man with another. I should lock you up and throw away the key I wasn't trying to bludgeon him, because I knew he'd be perfectly *fine*. And he helped me prove a point Which was... That the chances of him being you are more likely than either of you would have me to believe Could it be that you just have a thing for attractive, masked men? That is That is irrelevant to the conversation HA you so do Literally nothing to do with anything I just said It's okay. The mask makes it really easy to project one's ideal man onto me. Or so I've learned through Twitter I'm not projecting *anything* onto you Do you picture Ryan Reynolds when you talk to me? It's okay if you do Peter, shut up Maybe someone more boyish like Timothy chalet Timothee Chalet Timothee Chalamett I'd say you just like hearing yourself talk but this is a textual conversation I like that we can talk like this :) I like it too :) What about Tom Holland? We've got the same jaw If you think me accusing you of being Parker is me projecting a handsome man onto you, I can only assume you think he's hot. Which means I can assume you have a thing for him. Because I can also make things up Like Batman and Clark Kent? Are you saying Parker is the Clark Kent in our fictional relationship? More like Superman and Jimmy Olsen And you're my Lois Lane? ... Goodnight, Peter

Aunt May's home is beautiful. There's a lovingly sculpted garden out front that has since given into the snow, but you can tell it's a sight in the spring. For now, the Christmas garland lining the doorframe—wrapped in a rope of rainbow lights—brightens up the porch. As does the collection of little striped sweater-wearing gnomes gathered around the front door.

There's a commotion of voices behind it as you approach. You shift your plate into one hand, pressing the doorbell with the other, and the voices get louder. You swallow down your nerves when the door is ripped open by a stranger.

The stranger in question is staring out into the dark at you like they weren't expecting you. Your eyes quickly dart to the plaque beside the door and see a bold "15" emblazoned there. Nope. This is the house.

Their eyes zero in on the plate in your hand. Smiling, they open the door wide and step back, "Sweet! Peter said you'd bring dessert."

You kick the snow off your boots before stepping inside. The stranger shuts the door behind you before any more of the cold could get in. "It's peppermint bark," you explain, returning a smile of your own, "but I hear May's making a cake."

"May and Peter. May's great with everything but the oven- don't tell her I said that. I'm Ned, by the way." Ned holds his hand out for a shake.

Ned is really talkative, you find out. He holds your peppermint bark as you undo your boots and coat at the door, rattling off about how Peter and he had been friends at Midtown. He tells you about his job as a cybersecurity specialist, a job he'd naturally floated toward after graduating from MIT, and how he'd stayed with the Parkers for a few months after moving back to New York. It's how he knows that the downstairs bathroom door won't close unless you lift up when you shut it. You only remember about half of what he says by the time you get to the living room.

There are considerably fewer people than you expected, one of which makes his way over the minute you catch his eye.

"Hey," Harry grins. Unlike the nice suit he'd worn to the gala, he's dressed down in jeans and an ugly sweater with "I've been naughty" printed in big letters across the front, looking a lot less tense than when you'd first seen him, "Fancy seeing you here."

"I could say the same." You can't help but ask, "Don't the Osborns host Christmas Eve at Oscorp tower every year?"

Harry's good mood fizzles out right before your eyes. You feel pretty awful about it. "Uh, yeah. Norman does. But it's more business than anything, so I dipped. I'd rather be here watching Pete fuck up a perfectly good cake."

"I heard that!" Peter's voice calls from a room away.

Harry's good mood returns, "Well, it's good to see you at the annual Parker holiday celebration. And I'll forgive you for poking into my family business if you hand over those treats."

Bashful, you let Ned pass the plate into your hands before passing it to Harry, "Sorry. Reporter brain."

Harry's nose scrunches up, "Don't apologize. Unless these taste like ass."

"I promise they taste better than ass."

"Good enough," he backs away, turning his head to shout down the hall, "Peter! Get in here already!"

When the redhead is immersed in a game of UNO, you turn to Ned, "And that doesn't... feel weird? Having Harry Osborn at family dinner?"

"There are weirder things about Peter. Speak of the devil."

The ugly sweater is the first thing you notice. A companion to Harry's, it is nearly the exact same design, except for the "I've been nice" where the "I've been naughty" had been. He's dusting his hands of something when he comes around the corner. His eyes soften when he sees you with Ned, "Hey, you came." He says in a much too gentle voice. Harry and his opponents nearly drown him out with their cheers and boos.

Unlike at the office party, you notice, Peter's hair isn't tamed by hat nor hair gel. Instead, it curls incessantly around his flushed cheeks. He looked like a damn Keebler elf. It was frustratingly adorable. "Of course. I heard there'd be cake."

"How is that cake, Peter?" Ned pulls on a piece of the ugly sweater as he walks by, and you realize that some of the red had been singed. You follow Peter's frantic gaze from the hole to you.

"This was unrelated to the cake."

"You burned something else?"

"No! One of the stockings fell into the fireplace and I-" Peter trails off as you begin to smile, "you don't get to laugh at me if you didn't bring sweets."

"I did! Harry stole them." You nod over to the coffee table where the group is devouring your peppermint bark with reckless abandon. At least you knew they didn't taste like ass. Peter rushes over to steal the plate before they could polish off the last handful, much to their protest.

"Dinner's almost ready, I swear. You've met Ned, uh, Harry..." Peter scans the group, using his free hand to point out people, "...that's Yolanda, Katie, Lexie, Eduardo: all May's friends. May's in the kitchen but I'd stay out of her way until the ham comes out unharmed."

You notice that out of everyone gathered in the house, he does not mention his ex-girlfriend. "And MJ?"

You wait for an answer. Instead, something heavy shakes the house from above. It doesn't sound like it came from outside, but rather somewhere in the house. Not quite above your head. Weirdly enough, only you seem to be concerned about it.

Peter just glances at the ceiling, "And MJ."

MJ is tossing an empty storage bin to the side when you crawl up through the floor behind Peter. She's crouched on the balls of her feet, shoulders slouched, the sharp bones of her back poking through her tight graphic tee. Her head snaps toward you both when she hears you grunt up the last rung of the ladder. Her eyes narrow on you, then Peter, "I can't find it."

Peter offers you a hand to hoist you further into the attic, "Did you check the-"

"Yes. And I checked the one next to it. And the one next to that."

You look at Peter for an explanation, but he doesn't provide you with one. He walks over to where MJ has now fallen back on her ass, rifling through one of the bins. His mouth twists to the side. "Maybe she meant the box next to her old CDs?"

"There's like 15 boxes in here, Peter."

Off to the side of the room, where MJ was currently facing the mysterious dilemma, were about nine—not 15—storage bins in disarray. Two were off to the side, emptied of their contents: there were piles of men's clothes, women's clothes, baby blankets, and more. The third box that MJ was poring over had Halloween decorations in it.

"Well, you're getting close." Peter encourages.

The way MJ grumbles resentfully has you squirming. As time ticked on, your presence unannounced, you were starting to feel like an intruder. You clear your throat and MJ looks over at you for the second time, "Maybe I could help?" You offer.

At this, MJ brightens. "Finally! Someone cares about my plight. I don't know you, do I?"

You crawl over to where MJ is sitting and Peter gestures to you, "MJ, I told you about the reporter from the Bugle, right?" You give your name for good measure, and MJ's eyebrows raise. She gives a quick, indecipherable look to Peter. He returns it. Then she examines you.

After a moment, she dusts her hand off on her khakis and holds it out for you to shake, "Michelle Jones. Call me MJ." You repeat her nickname warmly. "Peter never shuts up about you."

Peter chokes on his spit.

"He... he does?"

MJ continues shaking your hand for longer than necessary, smiling secretively now, "Oh, yeah. He's got your blog bookmarked too. Post notifs for your Twitter, the works." You cut your eyes to Peter, appalled that he'd ratted you out to someone else, but MJ is quick, "I figured it out on my own ages ago."

"Is it really that obvious it's me?"

"No." And she smiles wider.

Peter is about to cut in with something when a woman's voice rings out, shrill and clear despite two layers of flooring in between you. He's needed with the ham. He looks between you and MJ, reluctant, "Look, if you can't find it-"

"We will." MJ's reply is confident, leaving no room for failure. You feel a little pressure applied to "we".

Peter nods. He mouths an apology at you and skitters out of the attic.

Left alone with MJ, you notice that she is staring at you now. You feel like you've been left alone with an oracle, prepared for your innermost being to be laid bare before you: past, present, and future. She looks like the type to know what makes people tick.

"What are you looking for?" You try to break the silence, though your voice comes out meeker than you'd have liked.

She doesn't look away from you as her fingers grip the container in between her legs, "Uncle Ben's favorite Christmas sweater. All I know is it has a reindeer holding a beer on the front."

Reinbeer. You almost laugh at it. You imagine it would tickle an uncle pink too. "Then I'll get to looking."

You've only just crawled over to a bin of your own when MJ asks you outright, "You like Peter, right?"

Your hand stills as it pries the top off. You feel her eyes burning into your back. "He's... nice, yeah."

You can hear how unimpressed she is with that, "I don't know if it's obvious, but Peter isn't exactly popular." You think that's kind of a cruel thing to say about someone you consider a friend, but MJ keeps going, "All he had was Ned back at Midtown. And me, eventually. I've known him since high school and he's made maybe a handful of friends, maybe less. The last time he invited someone new to Christmas dinner was Harry."

And that had been at least a few years, judging by how long Harry had been away at Oxford.

But why was she telling you this?

"He likes you." You yelp when you realize MJ's voice has gotten close. You turn, and she's kneeling behind you with no interest in your fear. "But do you like him?"

In her hands is a faded, toy Iron Man mask. "I... I think he's nice. I mean kind," you correct yourself when MJ frowns, "but I... I don't really know him. I mean, I don't think I do. I've only actually spoken to him twice and one of those times, there was a gun involved. Everything I know about him is through his pictures and Spidey, and I trust Spidey. So, I trust Peter."

"And Spider-Man?"

"What?"

"Do you like Spider-Man?"

You swallow. Like didn't really sum up how you felt about him. He was a hero, an inspiration, a friend, and also... yeah, you felt something more there too.

You think about why she would ask. Why it would have anything to do with you liking Peter or not. You look at her and it feels like she hasn't really asked you that different of a question at all. Your answer is much more definitive this time, "I do. I like him more than I know what to do with."

MJ leans back on her haunches. She appraises you, "He's pretty great, isn't he?" Her tone is considerably softer.

"Yeah. He really is." You smile.

MJ hands the mask to you and you take it, admiring the chips in its paint and the lovingly worn edges. She scoots between you and the bin you'd been looking into and pops the lid off. Almost immediately, she swears in relief. Sitting folded on top is the most gaudy sweater you've ever seen. A deformed reindeer is embroidered on the front, and sure enough, holds a can of beer in its hoof. When MJ shakes it out, little specks of dust fly everywhere.

This, too, she hands to you. You look at her in bewilderment. "You'll wanna make a good first impression with May," she advises, "just be prepared for the water works."

And there are water works.

May throws her arms around your neck and just about sobs her thanks to you, squishing the sweater between your chests. You note that she smells like candy canes. When she draws back, her glasses are all askew, "And I'm so glad you could make it! Peter wouldn't shut up about you. Isn't that right, Petey?"

Peter's eye twitches. "I'm gonna set the table. Ned, you wanna set the table?" And he scoots past you and May without waiting for a response.

"Don't mind him, he gets testy when he's cooking. Did Petey give you the tour?" You shake your head and May kisses her teeth in Peter's direction, "Okay, this is the kitchen, around the corner here is the dining room. You've seen the living room and the attic. The bathroom is by the front door, and the bedrooms are upstairs. If someone's in the bathroom down here, do not use the bathroom by the stairs. That's Ned's favorite when he gets bubbly guts, and he will get bubbly guts."

Ned complains under his breath as he walks by.

"If you need somewhere to get away from the festivities for a bit, backyard's that way and my room's upstairs, first door to the left. All good?" She pets your shoulder. Then, she looks down at the sweater still in your hands and takes it from you, tenderly. "I'm gonna go change into this and then dinner is served. Help yourself to anything, okay?"

May leaves you in the kitchen with that. Around the corner, Peter and Ned are fussing over where to put the ham and sides. Around the other corner, Harry is drunkenly singing Christmas carols with Yolanda. MJ watches on from the corner of the room, recording on her phone. She catches your eye and mouths, "For blackmail."

You peek into the dining room and Peter is worrying over one of the chairs. You can hear Ned scold him, "Sit next to them. You don't wanna talk over the ham. It'll kill the mood."

"But how do I... subtly get them to sit in this chair and not next to MJ or something?"

"Tell MJ not to sit next to them."

"But what if-" You jolt a little when Peter suddenly spots you eavesdropping. He straightens up with a death grip on the chair he'd been messing with, "Hey! Hi. This is your chair by the way." And he tops it all off with a smile.

It's warm in May's home.

You don't even register the cold at first. You do register Harry's frenzy, the way he grabs far more napkins than he needs to, pressing them to your stomach where the majority of his spilled drink had gone. When you finally do comprehend what just happened, you place your hands over his, "How long have you been plotting your revenge?"

Harry is red-faced. He lets you hold the napkins there while May rushes to find a towel, "Sorry. I wasn't looking where I was- sorry."

You don't get to dwell on the déjà vu of it all. May is ushering you up the stairs with a beach towel pressed to your front, muttering about how she'll have to put Harry on ginger ale for the rest of the night. She guides you into what you're certain is Peter's old bedroom.

It's been cleaned out, and most of his personal belongings must be at his own place, but there are still old posters on the wall, and a calendar dated in April, two years ago. His bed is ruffled like he'd slept overnight. It's neat, and looks like it usually is neat, but there are traces of him everywhere, like picture frames with Peter and May and a man you don't recognize.

"Peter probably has something here you can wear. It's all stuff from college." She digs through the top drawer of his dresser, finally stopping on a sweatshirt with Empire State University in college block across the chest. "Here! You think this'll fit?"

She stretches it out and you nod, thankful, "Yeah, thank you so much, May."

She smiles, "Okay. Bathroom's across the hall if you need to wash off. I can run your shirt through a wash while you're here if you'd like. Just let me know, okay?"

May is, perhaps, the sweetest woman on earth. She leaves you with a thumbs up and shuts the door behind you, reminding you to lock it after she leaves.

Your shirt had absorbed most of the drink, and you're relatively unscathed besides some sticky residue. You wipe at your stomach with the towel she'd given you and slip Peter's sweater on. It feels... odd, wearing it. It smells like May's house with little traces of Peter.

Your eyes drift back to the picture frames.

One such frame sits on top of the dresser, a photo of Peter and the man who you assume is Uncle Ben. He holds Peter in a headlock but they're both smiling at the camera. You smile too, tracing a finger around the wooden edges.

Another picture is of Peter and MJ and Ned, standing outside of MIT with their fingers pointing at the school. Another is of Peter and MJ sharing cotton candy at Coney. Another is of Peter as a little boy, with two people flanking his side that you do not know. You realize you'd never asked about Peter's parents.

There are other photos of him around that age with May and Ben, and as you piece together what feels like an undoubtedly tragic story, you catch something outside the window.

A person. Hanging onto the side of the house.

Your heart hammers in your chest as a hand pushes the window up, and then, "Did I scare you?" Spider-Man perches on the sill with what you can imagine is a shit-eating grin.

You stomp over to the window and shove at his shoulder, but he doesn't budge in the slightest, "You almost gave me a heart attack! Were you watching me get dressed?"

The mask's eyes blow open, "What? No! I swear I just got here."

"Do you ever use the front door?"

"Not if I can help it," he crawls in, staying planted by the window, "don't tell me you're snooping through Parker's things."

"I was just... looking. At the pictures. And Harry Osborn spilled his drink all over me so I had to borrow Parker's shirt."

"Hm. ESU looks good on you."

You look up at Peter, who keeps his hands tucked behind his back, leaning against the wall by the window. "Aren't you gonna say hi to the party? Make Parker look cool?"

"Eventually. Maybe. Might just watch from afar."

"No, nuh-uh. You said you had holiday plans and that you were going to a party. That doesn't count if you're watching from afar."

Peter's head sways to the side, "I never said this was the party I was going to."

"Is there another?"

"Well... maybe. Maybe not."

"Peter-" You whine, but he cuts you off.

"I'm not a party guy! Sue me."

"Well, then Parker's got you beat two for two. Unless you're lying, since I haven't given up on my conspiracy theory."

Peter presses himself off the wall, sauntering toward you in a zig-zag. Your eyes follow him, back and forth, back and forth, until he's a step or two away. His hand reaches out to play with one of your sleeves, its seams resewn with mismatched thread, "Leaving a party as Peter Parker to come back as Spider-Man. Give Parker some credit. That's the kind of plan you come up with in high school."

You shrug, trying not to act like Peter playing with your sleeve wasn't giving you goosebumps. "You never know."

Peter nods, "Yeah, you're right. I mean, he was really excited to see you."

"Oh yeah?" You swallow.

"Yeah. Was kind of pathetic, actually."

Peter shoots a web at the ceiling and twists, catching the web between his feet so he could hang upside down. The suddenness makes you stumble back with a breathless laugh, "That's not a very nice thing to say about a friend."

"Weren't you the one who said he'd be shaking and crying if you yelled at him?"

You sigh, "I was... I was teasing you."

"Because I'm Peter Parker."

He says it matter of fact. You stare at him, "Yeah," you whisper, "that's right."

He pulls himself up the web until he's face to face with you, "Then that wouldn't be very nice to say to a friend, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't. If you were Peter Parker, I guess I'd have to apologize to you."

"Yeah? How?"

You breathe deep. Everyone is still laughing downstairs. You become hyper-aware of the fact that you hadn't locked the door. At any moment, someone could walk in and...

Peter waits, curious.

Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw, pressing into the fabric of his mask, feeling over the ridges where black lines broke red. You know what you want to do. And you also know that there is no going back if you do it.

Your fingers reach the place where the mask meets the rest of his suit. Hooking two fingers under the fabric, you pull.

Your fingernails trace over the curve of his Adam's apple as it bobs, over the jut of his chin. Peter's breath is heaving. One of his hands releases its grip on the web and you see it glide toward yours out of the corner of your eye. You just feel the skin of his bottom lip under your finger when you realize how this might look. What he might think you're trying to do.

Mask in hand, questions of his identity hanging in the air, your curiosity and his vulnerability. You release the mask, awash with worry. You want to get it out before there's any misunderstanding, but as your hand drifts back to yourself, his catches it. You would give anything to know what he's thinking right now.

Peter lets your fingers fall. Silently, he drags the mask over the tip of his nose and leaves it resting there. An invitation. "I trust you." He promises. And kisses you.

He has to stretch a little to reach you. You understand this and press closer, taking the back of his head in your hands and holding it steady for you, but you know you're trembling. You curse yourself for how much your body reacts to this, how uncool you must look, how you shake with all the excitement and terror of this. You kiss him and feel silly about how you claimed to know his lips so well before now. That was nothing.

This is everything. So many things. Each time you go back in for more, you lock away some new little detail about him.

Peter places a hand against your neck and tugs you even closer, but the momentum makes him swing a little bit so his nose bumps your chin. You're too stiff to laugh, but he does, "Sorry," his voice is raspy, "this looked cooler in my head."

You lean into him, dizzied, "Was this... did you plan for me to kiss you? When you got up there?"

"I've wanted to kiss you plenty of ways." Peter's admission is followed by a sigh. He presses a hand to your chest and nudges you back a step before he's dropping to his feet and advancing upon you once more, bumping you against the dresser as the picture frames rattle. Your fingers sneak under his mask at the back of his head so they can sink into his silky hair.

He probably kisses you a hundred more times after that. Every kiss you think might be the last, but then you feel a tug in your chest and go in for one more. An itch that no scratch can soothe.

Peter's mask starts to slip and you feel one of his hands leave your waist to fix it, but the warmth your fingers had snuggled into disappears and-

You keep your eyes screwed shut, "Peter." You gasp against his mouth. Your fingers twitch in his hair, finding no resistance.

"It's okay," he nudges your nose with his, still pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth, "it's okay."

"But-"

"Don't you wanna know if you were right?"

You squeak when his lips find the underside of your jaw, "I don't need- you don't need to-"

"You're always right," Peter interrupts you, kissing down your neck, "I was never fooling you. You're so smart, you know that?"

"Peter." You say his name with no real plans for it to do anything, letting your head fall back.

"Please." He says back. Urging.

You lift your head, heart hammering away, and meet the eyes of Peter Parker.

[timelyrmdoodle]

Pls create a self insert for yourself if it wouldn't be too much work... The world needs more self inserts and also homosexuality!

Alright, fineeee.... I'll let myself indulge for once....

SO....

this isn't so much a self insert as it is just straight up a cookie run oc, but i do use them for my purposes This is Dragonfly Cookie! I've had them in the works for awhile but just.... never finished them... until now. (bless you) So the idea is that Dragonfly cookie is Lotus Dragon Cookie's war general/advisor along with hydrangea cookie I wanted a dragon related cookie, but not an actual dragon, so my brain exploded with the idea of dragonfly cookie I can see it so clearly in my head that, they serve Lotus dragon and theyre pretty good friends and loyal to both them and hydrangea, but theyve never really agreed with what they were doing and what they were for, so theyre a pretty reluctant follower, even though they seem extremely loyal on the outside and then following the dragons storyline, the dragon gang would come across lotus dragon's palace at some point, and shenanigans would happen....

yknow,,,,, shenanigans... dragon rider stuff...

[brittle-doughie]

It is two am right now and my adhd will not leave me alone at all. So here’s some constructive criticism on CRK specifically in an area where I don’t see other people point out other than it’s rigged gacha system (I haven’t played in a while so I don’t know if it’s been fixed) towards pay to play players

I really do love the game, it’s probably one of the only mobile games I have played for such a long time. But the thing I really hate is how many new characters they constantly introduce. The roster of characters is getting bigger and bigger and it’s getting harder for me to keep up. Now, introducing brand new characters into a game like this is fine, but not when you already a giant roster of already existing characters. These existing characters are also really good characters with incredible designs and I want to see more of them, but the only thing we get is the story their update provides or a small event, then there thrown to the side for the next new character. I wanna see more of rebel cookie, raspberry cookie, cherry blossom cookie, tiger lily cookie, and much more cookies that already exist. I don’t care if it’s a back story, a small side plot just for a mini game, cookie shenanigans, or related to the current story, I just want to see the cookies I’ve learned to love when I first joined the game. I will also bring up that I also don’t like how most of the screen time and story mostly goes to the legendary cookies along with gingerbrave. I understand their importance to the story, but it’s a lot and I feel really sad that other epic cookies will never get that kind of treatment when it comes to their stories. Heck!! Kumhio cookie’s description says that she wanted to be a cookie even though she was a fox and managed to do that, but we don’t get to see that at all. No event, no back story, just a description you have to read. The same is also applied to sobert shark cookie, there’s so much potential for an event or something related to these cookies and yet we get nothing. Black pearl cookie has mentioned seeing Sobert shark cookie which means they have canonically met and I would love to see the time when they did. Or even them just seeing each other again, I can just see black pearl cookie looking at sobert shark cookie in his cookie form and hearing him go “OoooOooOooOooOoOo” and giving him the most judgmental and disgusted look you will ever see from her and going “What in the mighty seas??” I loved the playing the beginning of the game just from how many stories of cookies you got from the islands, expanding the land, meeting certain points, but now that I finished all of those, it feels empty and sad. I hope CRK will improve in that aspect, while I wait, I’m going to enjoy the new characters we are getting. They are still very nice and love the work they get put into them. Other than that, bai bai!! Thank you for listening to my Ted talk

I think they just want to stick making a new cast of characters rather than just being a complete 1-1 roster of CROB. It makes the Ovenbreak characters all the more hype when they do come to CRK.

[deadwooddross]

Hey this may be a little forward of me, but would you ever be willing to write/share more lore about the Maudines and all the homebrew stuff you've made for Blades in the Dark as a more official guide? I've been following you and your friend's art of your Blades in the Dark characters, and have fallen so deeply in love with the little bit of shenanigans I have discerned, and the uniqueness of your characters from your collective art about the game that I've picked up a copy of Blades in the Dark myself and I crave more. 🥺

short answer: YES long answer: FINALLY, AN EXCUSE! real answer: well I wouldnt call it Official per say, but I loooove our old blades stuff and think about going back and trying to draw some of it all the time. I think as far as exploration goes, beyond Cookie related demons I would probably hover around Dunslough and the Dagger isles...Dunslough is one of my favorite places in a setting ever, my beautiful wife. The Mud Slum. Plus, I have All Sorts of stuff I want to talk about with Ish...and try as I might, her existence within the framework of blades is its own specific little thing that's hard to Remove from that setting. There's a Casino you know, which gives me reason to talk about silkshore as well, another especially cute little place... SO, IF I CAN WORK OUT THE TIME TO DO SO...I would love to pick around in blades again haha, i've pocketed quite a few things i like for my own stuff from there, it deserves the love

[munsonfamilyband]

I’m obsessing over Steve and Chrissy being cousins lately. Imagine the potential Shenanigans it presents. For example (most of this is not canon compliant):

Eddie and Chrissy are friends and Steve has a crush on Eddie (this would be post fall from grace for Steve). Eddie complains about Steve all the time because he doesn’t actually know him and Chrissy was sworn to secrecy by Steve so she can’t tell him anything about him, let alone that he’s her cousin.

Eddie finds out that they’re cousins when he and Chrissy are at her house (her parents are like Steve’s and are out of town a lot). They’re hanging out in her living room and he leaves to go to the bathroom but when he comes back, Steve is laying on the couch with his head in Chrissy’s lap talking about a fight he got in with his dad.

Eddie freaks out because “why tf is king Steve here?” and Steve freaks out because “oh god Eddie is here and now he’s seen me all vulnerable” so now Chrissy has to explain that Steve is her cousin and his dad is a POS like hers so they have an open door policy for each other

After that Eddie starts seeing Steve more and slowly learning that he’s not an asshole anymore. It helps that it seems like they aren’t trying to avoid him seeing them together anymore (Chrissy had been telling Steve whenever Eddie would be over so that he wouldn’t run into him).

Some memorable moments for Eddie are: seeing Steve baking with Chrissy with flour in his hair and then hearing Steve quietly explain that the cookies are low carb so that she won’t feel as bad about eating them (both of their mom’s are obsessed with physical appearance so Steve learned a lot of recipes that make them feel less like shit when they eat them), Steve braiding Chrissy’s hair while she complains about how Jason won’t leave her alone despite having broken up with him months ago and Steve offering casual as can be to key his car

As they get more comfortable around each other Eddie gets more and more hints that Steve may not be straight, but he refuses to acknowledge it for a while because then he would have to think about how he feels when Steve is around. He sees Steve let Chrissy practice make up and nail painting on him, most memorably he sees Steve squeeze his hips into Chrissy’s teeny cheer skirt that barely covers his ass, he hears him comment on men in movies, he sees how he reacts when Chrissy talks about the cute girl from marching band who talks a lot and Chrissy wants to kiss.

It goes on like this for a long time, Eddie getting closer to Steve to the point that they hang out without Chrissy, but neither of them do anything about their mutual attraction. Steve ends up getting a job at the mall and his new coworker is the band girl that Chrissy has a crush on, so Robin starts hanging around them as well.

It all comes to an end when the four of them get drunk at Steve’s house that summer and decide to play truth or dare. Steve gets asked by Robin if he likes anyone and he says yes but refuses to elaborate but when Chrissy gets asked who Steve likes, because she’s been drinking and had at least one joint, just tells the truth and says that Steve has had a crush on Eddie since he was 16. It’s silent for a bit before Chrissy turns to Eddie and asks him truth or dare, he says dare because no way is he admitting to anything, but then Chrissy dares him to kiss the boy he’s been crushing on for months and now Steve is staring at Eddie in shock. Eddie doesn’t even remember moving but suddenly Steve is in his lap and they’re making out in the grass of his backyard.

Chrissy decides to go for it and kisses Robin who freaks out before Chrissy kisses her again to stop her rambling

The four of them become a mysterious pack of friends who are clearly dating in some way but no one can actually tell who is dating who, especially with how few people actually know that Steve and Chrissy are related.

[celestialdragoncookie]

Well also make three brothers expression s when they see their worse enemy or thing cringe etc

Dark cacao cookies shenanigans:

One faithful day, almost everyday the regular timetable in dark cacao kingdom. Fighting licorice monsters, patrolling the villages, fighting bandits etc. One of the three brothers were nowhere to be found so the eldest and youngest went out to scout for the middle brother. They went through the corridors, hallways throne room but no sight of him but determination ran through their bodies as speedy ran to every crook and crany of the different rooms but one room remained undiscovered, so went there to find him. From the room came their brothers usual deep hoarse voice, with excitement opened to door to greet him but their happiness died down in a second the moment they bypass that cursed door.

Their eyes went widening like saucers, dark dragon cacao cookies expression morphs to a slight disgust face, as Demonos Cacao Cookie was like unbelievable man written on his face. They couldn't comprehend that their dear beloved strict brother was onto these things, like it was unbelievable. Had they were not strict enough or anger to prevent these from happening? These thoughts in the form of questions ran through their heads like a tsunami, they were really questioning their life choices now.

Back to Dark cacao cookies point of view, he was just doing paperwork in his office as stress and fatigue overall through his whole body, writhing him down as eyebags under his purple eyes a sign of lack of sleep and rest, so went towards his private chambers to rest and replenish his lost used energy. As he arrived at the chambers, he felt like his eyes just deceived him there were very two familiar cookies there glaring at each other. He rubbed his eyes believing that the lack of sleep has made him seeing hallucinations, he chuckles believing that phantoms would go away but his surprised the two phantom just hugged him, which the effects of the sleep go away his vision became more clearer and saw the true figures of cookies it was his blood related cousin pure vanilla cookie and the lecherous snake affogato cookie. He was really questioning himself how the hell the snake got through the kingdoms defences and by pass the warriors. Little did he this scene caused a huge misunderstanding, the door slammed opened came his two brothers with WTF FACE.

Upon seeing the sight, the two morphed into that of a disgust face, dark dragon was literally like wow looks I didn't teach you enough discipline as for Demonos Cacao Cookies his face was the right definition of extreme disgust face with WTF bitch written on it. The eldest with a very quite chilly tone

"Well, well what do we have here looks like our dear brother was into these things, looks like I didn't gave you enough discipline"

" Bro I thought you were decent and strict about dating oh! Looks like you broke my expectations and how filthy".

Upon seeing his two brothers, Dark cacao cookies face paled to extreme as he sweat in anxious and nervousness, he believe that his brothers has misunderstood the whole situation, this situation was not proof enough to understood him. He stretch out his hand in desperation and gave a pleading look.

" Wait wait brothers please I can explain, this isn't what is look like. This whole situation is a misunderstanding, I am not into these things".

He really got into mess, now the whole is really a pickle for him to get out now.

Suddenly the extreme disgust and disappointment transform into raging flames of rage and anger as the volcano exploded. Behind the two brothers was erupting flames of anger, transform into that of a devil heating the entire room as their darkneed in sheer anger. Dark cacao cookies face even more pale like sheet believing his life is over and is going to greet his personal death right now. Dark dragon took out his personal handy club and smacked on his hand he called this weapon " personal discipline weapon".

" I am very disappointed in you, bastard I thought you were a decent strict type of guy guess I was wrong, lots like I have to " Discipline" you myself".

Dark cacao cookie falls on the floor in fear as he crawl backwards with a pleading look he desperately tried to calm the devil of his brother.

" Wait, wait wait please let me explain I am no......

" oh! Shut up you bastard I had enough of your yapping time for discipline".

Dark cacao cookie sprinted outside the door, as he ran ran for his pitiful life, as the chase began while he ran dodging his brother's discipline weapon while screaming in fear.

The snake and pure vanilla cookie chuckles as dark cacao cookie ran away in fear.

" giggles I don't know my cousin had this side of him, oh that surprise hug mission is completed anyway, time to go anyway".

" Fuuu! I don't the mighty king would act like this, I guess I could use this opportunity to stu...

He was cut off with rough coughing, both of them look behind as the saw the person they got intensely paled as they had just greeted death himself, behind them was angry no ferocious Demonos Cacao Cookie who was just sharpening his sword, he gave a sadistic smile as a glint of preying could be seen in his eyes. He grins with a tone of mocking

" Run! Bitch run".

Let's say tonight the whole citedal erupted in the screams of whole three cookies as they were running from the devil himself, as their life was on the thin line. One watcher said while touching his beard

" Weird why do I felt like it was a sound of a maiden in distress?".

Another one replied " no! It would be a dog barking while in diarrhea".

The two watchers continue to Bricker unknown that the wrath being fallen upon on the poor cookie because of wrong situation at the wrong time.

[quibbs126]

i think string gummy and energy drink would have one interesting kid

Maybe I went a bit too much on the colors, but this is Fizzle Rock Cookie

Yet again, I don’t have too much on Fizzle Rock. Not even sure what gender they are, since sometimes I think girl, sometimes I think boy. We’ll just go with nonbinary for now

I think Fizzle Rock is a student in a school somewhere. Like, despite their parents having such fantastical lives, they live a pretty mundane one. Which was probably intentional on their parents’ parts. They’re pretty tech savvy, and probably have a good relationship with Croissant, though they’re more digital while Croissant is more analog

They get bored easily, so they’ll end up causing mischief or getting into shenanigans just so they can do something. Which can be a nuisance for their parents, but they don’t really care

One thing I will note is that this is pretty much the opposite of what I was originally planning for them. Because one of their parents from another time and the other from another universe, they were gonna have some other time-space related job, and also a weapon on their arm that looked like a leaf blower. But then I decided “normal person with a normal life” and that’s what we got

So Fizzle Rock’s name comes from Pop Rocks, but I couldn’t name them that because that’s a brand, and “popping candy” is already taken. I kind of just decided it based on vibes and being bright colors. Also it’s a very sugary candy

Pop rocks:

So I decided to do Fizzle Rock here because of a previous ask suggesting I try to make a more vibrant colored fankid, and I thought this was the best place to do it

The hair was actually the last thing I decided on, since they originally had different hair

I like that old hair, but I thought that it didn’t really fit the name. I was considering changing their name, but I decided to maybe make an alternate that looked sharper and closer to the name, and we got the above. I actually do like how the hair turned out

The main idea in my head for this one was to go with a contrasting red/green color scheme. But then I kind of ran out of ideas of what else to do for the colors that wouldn’t make them look like a really saturated rainbow, so I just kind of stuck with only that

I also just kind of guessed around the outfit. The backpack is a carry over from the original design, I just refitted it to be a backpack. I’m not too sure about the final outfit to be honest, but I don’t really know what else to substitute it for

I’m not really sure how I feel about Fizzle Rock. I like their hair and they didn’t turn out half bad, but I also feel like the outfit isn’t great and I should have done more with them

But yeah, that’s Fizzle Rock. Not really as interesting as you’d think, but they’re here

[televised-uhhh-nerdistry]

in awe over the fact that community truly knows how to pack a punch. in season 3, episode 17, “basic lupine urology”, the show once again makes a parody, just like it has for the past three seasons. the entire episode is law and order based, and it every single joke is seamlessly written and performed, like genuinely the whole thing is perfect. the serious tone of law and order, coupled with the absurdity of the show, it works so well! by the end of the episode, despite the jokes, and despite the parody, the show manages to create a tone that is far more sombre and dramatic than most episodes so far. when the call about star burns’ (his name is alex) death comes in, it feels surreal, it feels genuinely heartbreaking, and it feels utterly different than the rest of the show.

they used the entire sombre setup, despite it being parodical, to force their last line to pack a ginormous punch. of course, the end credits scene show that the cast is back to their usual shenanigans, effectively breaking the soap-opera esque episode that they had just aired. it’s their way of saying “hey friends, thanks for watching, here’s a cookie”. and i eat that shit up every time!!

by the time they craft another parody of a serious crime related media, they manage to do the exact same thing over a season later while still making it fresh and new. in season 5, episode 3, “basic intergluteal numismatics”, they opt for a parody of david fincher’s “seven”, and if i’m being real here, i know next to nothing about the film other than its general premise. however, they still manage to use the same formula, while accomplishing something brand new. here, they use the sombre and serious tone to once again deliver bad news in a way that packs a punch. it’s their way of saying “we’re a comedy show, but we can go toe to toe with all the academy award winners if we so please”. but this time, they follow through on the storyline introduced in basic lupine urology: star burns. he’s alive and well, and they incorporate him seamlessly back into the show as if he never left. they set up his death perfectly, then use his death to set up arguably the biggest storyline in the series, before resolving it with what is simultaneously the most serious and the most silly resolution possible. then, just when you are comfortable in the show’s parody seriousness, they do it again! they lure you into a false sense of security and introduce another major character death without it feeling like a cliche or a repeat scenario.

man i love community