#little eppy boys

[velvet-paradox]

Intense

Fandom: Sleep Token (Band) Pairing: Vessel x Female reader x III Length: Long Summary: Your eepy roommates suggest they can help you out. Warnings: NSFW 18 + ONLY, LISTEN UP PUNK I know what I'm about ok and I shouldn't even have to to explain this but for ffs this is for funsies, fictional purposes only. I don't know these British men and I don't claim to! But am I having an absolute ball listening to them everyday day since I heard Dark Signs??? Absolutely. I have not and will not know peace on Earth ever again so with that being said... my lizard brain wants to shoot my shot and get sandwiched between Vessel and III (purely based off their on stage personas) and I'm pretty sure all us worshippers would enjoy kneeling and begging for forgiveness for all the eepy guys. DON'T LIE TO ME; I'll know. ;) One late night thot lead us down this path so here ya' go, we've got: strong language, explicit content, MFM relations, polyamorous activities, kissing, oral (m receiving), p in v, protected sex, unprotected sex (don't do it!), double vaginal, dirty talking, creampie III is a mess, Vessel is along for the ride and you're indulging in the spoils of detailed smut. Tagging: @synnersaint my ride or die

ENJOY!!!

You stare at the red numbers on the clock next to your bed. You blink.

Unfortunately unfazed by the hum-drum pace and the position you've found yourself in.

Ugh, how did this happen again?

The man on top of you, circling his hips against your own, balls deep in your cunt should be fun, exciting, a turn-on at least but you just laid there, once again, taking it but not getting anything out of it. You faked it the last three times just to get him to get off you, out of your apartment and out the door so you could finish yourself off with some post nut clarity. Which is what you should've done in the first place.

The first time you had sex with him, you chalked it up to nerves. It'd been a few months for him and a bit longer for you at this point. The second time you excused it as you did go out for drinks earlier in the night and the last one was just plain awful. No foreplay, bit your neck too hard and pretty much gave you a titty-twister which was not fun; at all.

But he's nice! And funny, easy to talk to you and here you are, making more excuses for a man who can't even get you off. This is just pathetic, girl.

You felt bad faking your enthusiasm but even as you moved in unison with him, hearing him huff and grate out oh my fucking god for the fifth time, he didn't even have a clue.

So you dialed it up, two more minutes had passed with him just thrusting inside you, he didn't even notice you weren't as wet as before. What a fucking disaster.

You sighed and made your O face, biting your lip and holding his waist, the slapping of skin sped up briefly before he pulled out with a groan of your name, panting as he jerked himself, tore off the condom and came on the inside of your thigh.

Fucking finally.

Your date was quick to get dressed, mentioning something about an early shift change. He gave you chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, cupping your face as an afterthought as you followed him out of your bedroom.

"I'll text you when I get home. I-- oh!"

You bounced against his back, stunned as to why he's just stopped like that when you peer around his frame. There on the couch in your living room sat your roommates.

"Oh my-- what are you guys doing home?" You asked, frantically looking between the two sober faces and their luggage by the front door. Well more like the painted chin of one and the eyes of the other. You were hyperaware of the drying cum on your leg and crossed your fingers and toes they didn't hear your activities or what remained to be seen.

"We live here, remember?" Vessel waved one of his hands, III nodding along.

"When you said you had roommates I just assumed they were other girls." Your bedfellow side talked to you as to not alert your boys.

"Is that a problem?" You asked.

"No I just uh," he looked at III when he stood, an attempt to intimidate. "It's fine um... I'll call you."

"Well that was rude," Vessel announced, joining his brother after he left. "Didn't even introduce himself."

"He won't be around for long. I wouldn't worry about it." You dryly chuckled before embracing both of them. Vessel cupped the back of your head, pressing his chin into your hair before letting III swoop you up in his gangly arms and gave you two solid spins. "Put me down! You reek."

"Ah, the mask has seen better days I'm afraid. Can't wait to get a hot shower and something in my belly. Road livin' ain't what its' cracked up to be, ya' know?" III admitted.

"Um, let me get changed and I'll make you guys some food," you jogged out of the living room, calling over your shoulder. "Lord knows what you boys eat on the road!" ....

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," You paused the movie and turned to face Vessel on the chaise lounge part of the couch, long limbs sprawled out, ankles crossed and rocking. "What's up?"

Vessel twisted his painted mouth before asking an out of pocket question. "Why do you torture yourself?"

Taken aback you wondered what he meant and crossed your legs. "What? What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean." When you showed your genuine confusion, he sat up. "Your little boy toy. Not that III and I have been cheeky little perverts and eavesdropping on your late night escapades but... we can't help but be concerned. Either you're a silent climaxer, some people are and that's totally fine and we're bold to assume or your partner isn't doing it right."

"Excuse me?"

"We've only been home a few weeks and we've heard him far more than we've heard you," Vessel explained, ignoring your anxious fidgeting and cuticle picking. "What we have heard though, is a lot of buzzing after your friend leaves."

Oh. My. God.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, desperate to get out of, out of your body and on the run. Blood pounds in your ears at the audacity of this whole conversation. Your roommates have heard you getting off, know you have toys, know your friends with benefits is lacking the benefits part and that you'd not been taken care of. You wished it was still cooler out and you could grab the usual throw off the back of the couch and hide away underneath.

"What are you guys talkin' about?" III popped in, holding a glass of chocolate milk, an absurdly long and coiled straw was hidden beneath his mask as he sucked dramatically.

Vessel smirked. "Oh just Y/N and how her new beau can't get her off."

"Oh finally! I've been dying for this conversation," III exclaimed and excited plopped down next to Vessel, scooching closer and leaning forward as he drank some more. "So what gives? Give us the goods."

"I don't... he knows what he's doing, it's just--"

"It's just he's bad at it." III giggled.

"I can get off, okay?"

"Yeah, we know that. Just not with him."

"I... fine. It might not even be him you know," you tried. "Maybe it's me. Maybe I can't get out fast enough."

Vessel quirked his mouth. "Get out of what exactly?"

"My own head. I think too much, you know that. I need to feel everything in order to shut my brain off and not worry about how many loads of laundry I need to do, when I need to switch out my sheets, did I pick up my towel in the bathroom? What should I have for lunch tomorrow."

The boys looked between themselves, shrugging and looking bewildered. "You... you think about all that stuff all while having sex?" III snorted and shook his head. "You're a madwoman, you know that?"

"I'm trying not to think of those things!"

"That's what I was afraid of," Vessel took III's now finished drink away from him and set it down. "If you want, we could help you out. Save you the trouble and the energy and uh, some battery power."

You chuckled. "You're joking. You two are gonna' help me out."

"Just say the word and we belong to you," Vessel crooned, licking his top lip. The pink of his tongue was such a juxtaposition to he obsidian black that covered his face, his arms and hands, his body. "This could be a one time deal, if it's not up to your standards, we don't have to mention it ever again or... it could be a three times a week sort of thing."

"Three times a week?!" You screeched.

"That's up to you."

....

"So uh have you guys like... done this before?" Your voice doesn't even sound like your own, shaky, breathy, uneven and higher pitched. You pointed between the duo and yourself. You hadn't but your incognito search history might say you've looked at it a few times.

They admitted their deep rooted feelings about you. Your stomach flipped for Vessel's breathy pet name of Duchess, your toes curled for III's Sweetness. 

With the way they looked at you, you couldn't even remember his name at this point.

Vessel shrugged. "Just with you."

"Just me?" You balked, you knew the guys were close, sometimes skin tight so to find out they'd not acted out was stunning and a major green light. "Oh um, I'm flattered. iI think."

"You should be. III isn't much of a talker, speaks his mind when need be."

"Unless its' dirty." III piped up with a shrug of his own, with the way his eyes wrinkled you could tell he was all smiles under that mask.

"A little tact there, brother!" Vessel scolded him, giving a backhand to his arm. "Don't scare her off."

"What? She should know. You should know. I am dripping with sin."

"III!"

"What? We're all adults here, right? An' we're talking about fucking each other so who cares?! And she might even like it. Do you like dirty talk, sweetness?" III asked with a tilt of his head.

"Uh I um... I. Well..."

"Do you," III stood and got closer, much closer, swaying his way to close the gap between you. He stood with his legs on the outside of your own. He tilted his head the opposite way and kept his eyes trained your face, the heat from the eye contact made you hot. His painted thumb touched your chin. "Like that?"

You'd never felt this kind of intimacy, this heightened level of attraction and arousal and it made you nervously laugh at the thought that it was radiating off your friends like a fucking forest fire.

You swallowed. "Yes."

"Aha! Knew it. Those pretty eyes and that fucking mouth are hiding plenty of secrets, yeah?" III pointed, that thumb of his traced along your jaw before pushing gently on the underside, making you look all the way up at him.

If they wanted to play, you thought, I guess... let's play.

"Maybe."

"Oh! Now we're getting somewhere," III chuckled and looked over at Vessel before touching your shoulder, moving the strap of your sleep shirt back and forth. His hands were hot, scorching your skin as he touched the light fabric. "Should I undress you or should you undress me? Or maybe Vessel wants to unwrap us both. What do you think?"

"I think--" your throat constricted before keeping his ardent eye contact. "I think I want to undress you first."

III liked that idea, he wiggled his shoulders and raised his arms. "I'm all yours, mama."

....

His hoodie is the first thing to go, floating down to the floor. A black compression shirt separates flesh and bone, it comes off easily over his head. He's only half painted there. You can see streaks of his skin, soft and smooth, hidden from view. His stomach tightens when you trail your hand down his chest, foreign to your hands.

"I think about you, ya' know? Not to be pervy or bold but... you are the prettiest thing we've ever seen."

His compliments make you warm, you clench around nothing.

He suddenly grabs your hand and moves it higher. "Feel that. You make my heart fuckin' pound like crazy. The first time I saw you in that green sundress, you know, the one with the little daises on it... fuck me," III admitted and dramatically bit his fist. "I've never been so hard in my life!"

You know the dress in question. It's hanging in the front of your closet. Guess it'll be making a debut and turn III on once again. 

"Oh yeah? Well maybe next time I wear it... I won't wear anything underneath."

III made the deepest of groans, moving your hand down his ribs while he undid his belt. "Fuckin' hell, don't tease me woman."

"You don't like that?"

"I like it too much! That's the problem."

His zipper was so fucking loud, it cut through the room like a hot knife. Smooth and seamless, even Vessel had to clear his throat. You looked over at him on the chaise, legs wide spread, lithe arms outstreatched over the back cushions. With three separate eye holes in his mask, it was hard to tell where he was looking but in this moment you felt them boring straight into your own.

"Keep going," he hummed and visibly bit his lip. " 'm enjoying the show."

With III was just in his boxers, it was your turn. Your disrobing would be a lot quicker as you were in a light pajama set and crew socks. You mmiiced III and raised your arms above your head, his nimble fingers danced over your sides, dragging the material up and over your head. He tossed to Vessel, who out of your peripheral, had inhaled your scent on it. He did the same with your shorts. The rush of cool fan air make your skin prickle, your clit throbbed when you fully noticed the outline of III's cock. Jesus. 

III got on his knees and lifted one your feet, gripping your ankle.

"No. Keep them on." Vessel spoke, pushing himself up off the couch and sauntered over to you, fully nude and on display. He embraced your face, pressing his forehead to yours before slinking behind III when he stood.

Vessel's painted arms looped around III's, locking them behind his back. III made a noise.

"Take him out," Vessel instructed with a low gasp. "Take him out and see what you do to him. Same as what you do to me. Hell, all of us, duchess."

ALL OF US?!

Before you got on your own knees, you touched III's hips, hooking your thumbs just beneath the fabric and dragged them down. His cock made the softest and prettiest thud against his lower belly. Your eyes bounced from their faces, down to his leaking cock and back again.

"He wasn't lying," Vessel chuckled, his chin now draped over III's shoulder. You met his eyes. "You make him rock fuckin' hard, love. Want her to take all o' that? Nah... you need her to take care of that, don't you?"

"Fuck yes." III whined. "Please."

"How are you gonna' help our good boy, love?"

III shook before your even touched him, you on your knees before him was enough to have him looking frantic. Completely at your and Vessel's mercy, you took him in your hand first, getting familiar with his length before dipping your head in worship, opening your mouth. You hesitated for the briefest of moments before angling him deeper and further into your mouth.

It was a good thing Vessel was holding him up because you felt and saw III's knees wobble once you got your stride, gliding your hands up and around his thighs, arching closer with your fingers reaching his ribcage. Your palms against his skin felt every twitch, every jolts, every fucking sigh. The noise that strangled out from his throat when you dragged your nails down his stomach had you clenching around absolutely nothing.

"That's it, you're doing such a good job, love bug. Atta' girl, get 'em off real good, yeah?"

"Yeah yeah, fuck yeah," III whined and bucked his hips, "Your mouth feels so fucking good. Suckin' me off real sweet, mama. Give it to me."

"She's good with that mouth, hmmm?"

"Oh fuck V...wait 'til she oh shit, right there-- wait 'til she's gaggin' on you. O-oh my God."

When III took the Lord's name in vain it sounded so sweet in comparison to your other lover. You could feel yourself getting wetter, more powerful than you ever had with him. You took their words of praise, locked them in a little safe in the back of your mind for safe keeping.

"You're lucky I don't shove your ass out of the way then." Vessel teased and III mewled with delight.

....

III made grabby hands at you, wiggling his fingers as he laid out on the chaise part of the couch. He wiggled, tapped and pointed towards his mouth too.

When you climbed on top of him, his arms engulfed you, bringing you chest to chest. You kissed his face over his mask, startled when he suddenly pulled the chin part of it up to his nose and kissed you for real. You whined and kissed him back harder and faster, tasting his mouth, licking inside of it. He smacked and grabbed your ass, groaning against your lips.

"You two are fuckin divine," Vessel breathed, shouldering off his robe finally, unzipping his own jeans. "Fuckin’ hell, what a sight."

You turned your head to his silky voice, watching him stroke himself.

You were in big fucking trouble.

III nipped your arm. "Want you. I want you so fucking badly. Think it'll fit? Think you can take it?"

You took a breath and held his cock, hot and ready against your pussy. Rocking against the crown, splitting your lips to ready you for him. You licked your lips and lowered down on it, your mouth instantly opening. "Fuck yes."

"Good God!" 

"Shit... a little more, love and you'll take him all the way in. That's it." Vessel cooed and pet your head, then your face. "Kiss him again."

With his heavy hand on your head you kissed III tongue first, the sounds of you two kissing had Vessel praising both of you, leaving him breathless.

III grabbed your hips, rolling and fucking up into you, breathing you in.

You and III stilled at the sudden dip of the couch.

Vessel's hand on your shoulder, his other ghosted and trailed over III's mask and vulnerable chin and mouth behind you. He lost it at that, whimpering against your cheek, a new flood of arousal coating your walls.

"Just relax pretty girl. We've got you, we got you."

"What are you--"

Vessel's thick fingers reached around your front, pressing and swirling down around your clit. "We're both gonna' fit. Just remember to breathe for us, ok?"

Holy shit. This was intense.

III's arm surged up and over your shoulder to touch Vessel, ghosting over his naked hip, gripping his bare skin.

"I've got you both. Trust me."

It was your idea to lift up, empty of III only to arch and take a deep push of Vessel. You frowned and touched III's face when Vessel pulled completely out. You both gasped when he spat. III squirmed and whined, the sudden intrusion of Vessel lining them both up against your hole, wedging their cocks inside you.

It didn't necessarily hurt, more pressure than anything and for fucks sake, you'd never felt so full in your life. 

"Fuck V! Give us a warning, holy fuck." III breathed when the frontman started to rock and move. After a few minutes of fucked out bliss, it seemed like Vessel was fucking III through your body.

He smeared his face along your spine, your shoulder, leaving wet open mouthed kisses along your neck and ear.

"Good fucking God duchess, you are absolutely soaked for us, aren't you? Can feel you really start to open up for us now, yeah? Fuck you're amazing. Isn't she?"

"Ye-yeah yeah. Positively sweet," III's eyes sparkled in an amorous way. You kissed him hard. "Can't wait to have a taste of you, sweetness."

The thought of him working his mouth on you made you keen and fuck down on them.

Limbs twisted and tangled, Vessel nipped a small, incredibly sensitive spot behind your ear before licking the shell of it. Humming and praising you with that gravely timber. He was touching you, holding onto one of your tits for stability and III did the same, using just the pad of his thumb to pebble your other nipple.

You would never recover, that much you were sure of. They were out for pain and pleasure.

On a particularly hard thrust from III your moan slipped into sex drunk chuckle. "I think she likes it."

"I'm in fuckin' heaven." You breathed, reaching back to touch Vessel's thigh, digging your nailbeds in deep.

"That's it, you fuckin' naughty thing." His hand left your breast and found a new home around your throat, turning your head to face him and receive a sloppy kiss. III moaned at that.

"You two are fuckin-- ah shit. I'm close, fuck. Give it, give it to me."

Vessel's laugh against your lips made your walls constrict.

"Just like that!" III practically yelled, digging his fingers into your thighs, alternating to your hips, changing the tortuous pace. "Fuck, 'm gonna' bust, sweetness. Fuckin' cum inside you all nice and deep. Make it stick."

"Fuck me." You hung your head and rode it out, nothing but pure pleasure and bliss was shared between the three of you. And it was worth it. "Oh you guys... aha! I'm gonna' cum."

You couldn't remember the last time you came that hard with a partner and never with two! They both rubbed their hands and mouths over your skin, groping over your sandwiched body. Vessel's chest stuck to your back like glue, III grabbed and pushed both of your breasts together as he came shortly after with a grunt of your name, stringing along a beautiful array of obscenities. 

"I've got you, I've got you both in my clutches now." Vessel's voice sounded like silk on glass next to your ear as he continued to thrust, spearing III's load all over your gummy walls. III reached out a lazy hand and Vessel took it, lacing their fingers together over your shoulder. 

Skin on skin on skin.

III leaned up for another smooch with you greedily enjoyed, smacking your spit and lips together until all you could feel and hear was Vessel shudder behind you.

....

Vessel couldn't stop smiling as you giggled, helped to your bedroom, wedged between them on your bed as they cleaned you up. You would certainly need to clean up that side of the couch later. III was careful of your more tender bits, being stretched out and filled, removing black grease paint of where they were.

He drummed his fingers over your arms when he was finished, molding his body to yours. His head against the side of your neck. III soon joined in the snuggle, jumping into bed and under the covers with you. He gave you another kiss before pulling his mask back down, and pet Vessel's head.

Your phone buzzed when your boys had fallen asleep, you had a feeling of who it might be and if this is how the future looked; there was no way you were gonna' give this up.

[trans-yllz]

I am In the coffee shop with my little latte ready to write my fic and draw my comic 😤

[mooniebatz]

hhhh brain fink

CG Scissors- like, OG or Better Scissors. I wanna draw itttt aaaaaa but es eppyyyyyy (; x;)

I feely wik he’d be a ‘big brother’ cg kinda thingy,, callin u stuffs lik ‘lil guy’ , ‘fella’ , ‘kiddo’ etcetc GN-Masc little names- he’d prob bee welly chill cg n funnn but wik def almost crys wen his lil cries lol

[lonelycornergremlin]

i kneo notrhign about you but

ive seen ghe one eith Silver and Jade.

⚔️❤️

[paulic]

Ok this is what I think the biopics will be like for each Beatle:

John will be so troubled but in a really charming way and Julian will be mentioned but briefly and they’ll make it seem like John was just too busy to be a present father (Paul will make up for it in a vomit inducingly cheesy way). His eating disorder, heroin addiction and other internal struggles (self-esteem, sexuality, maybe even gender,…) will go unmentioned or brushed over jokingly like haha he tossed Brian off, don’t we all at that age. He’ll be the cool and funny older brother & later genius who just couldn’t be confined within a band. They won’t have the guts to call his bullshit and therefore will automatically brush over his kinder and vulnerable sides. He’ll be reduced to a knock off version of the tortured artist blueprint. They’ll never pick up on his pathetic wet dog vibe

Paul will be the charming good guy who’s all in with the band. No mention of how he fucked over Jane and every other girl until Linda; he’ll be a musical genius, too, but in a prince of the people sort of way. They’ll loooove that he stopped eating meat, woke king!!!! Linda will be brushed over by making her into his soulmate wifey who finally helps the charming playboy with a heart of gold settle down. His depression and alcohol problem won’t be mentioned/reduced to feeling a little sad. He’ll be a little bossy sometimes but they won’t ever get it right how fucking annoying he could be. Straighter than a ruler. John’s brother, almost biologically. No homo. They’ll find a way to make the twink who fucked the entire population and had an ego bigger than Neptune into a straight feminist

George will be the indie underground smart Beatle and people on tik tok will start posting thirst traps of the actor with the caption “they don’t make em like this anymore” and then complain about real-George’s teeth. He’ll be so spiritual and smart and he won’t have an affair with his best friend’s wife at all and if he does it’ll be because of some spiritual insight, not because that man couldn’t keep it in his pants for 5 seconds. I’m deadly afraid of the colourful drug scenes where he’ll hallucinate god. He’ll be the perfect boyfriend and Pattie will be played by Sidney sweeney or something. They won’t take a side with the whole George Or Paul debate during the breakup, but George will be too focused on other things to want to stay in the Beatles. They won’t mention the three billion songs John&Paul deemed unworthy. They’ll never do the grudges my man held justice. No one could

Ringo will be the funny guy who luckily survived his childhood and found his passion through a kind nurse giving him his drumsticks. He’ll play an incredible drum solo at 8 years old on his hospital bed frame the first time he ever holds those sticks. He won’t be in gangs, he won’t beat his wife half to death, he won’t have drugs and alcohol problems. He’ll be peace and love from age 0. He’ll be slightly stupid and he’ll mention octopuses too much. They’ll never get it right how he was truly the eldest and how much his vote and opinion actually counted within the band and how much the boys wanted him in the band and admired him. He won’t be a sort of glue to the band. He won’t marry a teenager he met when she was 16 and he 22. He’ll be a weird version of Ken from the Barbie movie, his job will be Drum. They’ll flatten a severely nuanced and layered man to a sheet of paper with the word ‘beat’ on it

I am too afraid to even think about what they will do to Eppy

Oh and each and every one of them will have way too pretty teeth and I am already furious. I want them to have British men in the 1960s teeth. Give me British teeth and jerking off together

[pomefioredove]

Ace and Duce are very much 'british rap' to me. something like Niko B....... like it's literally their vibe to the max.

this one is kinda self-indulgent?? probably?? but Epel is polish/western-ukrainian in my mind. I can vividly see this boy wearing rip-off adidas and speaking in a mix of prison jargon he picked up god knows where and neighboring languages only people from his little town understand.

Azul is probably italian-american?? I haven't really thought much about him in this context tbh but I have to write him in somewhere cus he's my fav. it's a pretty popular headcanon from what I've seen.

my headcanons for Tweels kinda depend on what kind of eels they really are. Moray is the name for a whole family of underwater worms-on-a-string and I can't choose one to fit them. green morays? then they're mexican-american. snowflake morays? then they're hawaiian. dragon morays? then they're southern-japanese. ect, ect.. 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

OKAY NOW THAT YOU SAY THAT ABOUT ADEUCE I SEE IT COMPLETELY. I still imagine ace being half-italian or of italian heritage too

also epel,, eppie, my sweet baby (< he becomes real and kills me for saying these things) I LOVE HIM and I respect the EN team's decision to make him an american southerner but I also,, do not really think that fits his character or background and slavic epel makes more sense to me. especially with what harveston looks/feels like. polish epel is actually so smart and I see it?? does he not look like a potato pancake enjoyer to you guys

italian is generally the accepted headcanon for azul but I could see him being anything. and EEL REVEAL WHEN. mexican-american tweels is so cute, so is hawaiian tweels, and southern japanese tweels- I love all of them 😭

[ashipiko]

@robo-milky HELLO

Hair-swapped TWST Part 41

I'm sorry, I had to know how Rook looked with this hairstyle. I can't quite make out is Epel pulls off the bob, but it's not the worst thing in the world. Rook though looks pretty nice!

If you have suggestions for future hair-swaps, feel free to comment and let me know!

[yuurei20]

Epel Facts Part 4: Assumptions and Cater

Despite how much pride Epel takes in his humble upbringing he is often dealing with assumptions by others that he comes from an elite family.

Students in his potionology class mock him for being “a rich little brat” and “daddy’s fancy little lad,” while a 2nd year bully calls him a pretty boy who thinks he’s special, telling him to go back to “hoity-toity” Pomefiore and do some embroidery.

During his first evening at the school his fellow dorm mates assume that he is “the son of some noble” and that his family must employ a skilled weaver when Epel says that he does not have a favorite brand of carpet.

Both Deuce and Sebek assumes that Epel must come from “a real rich family,” while Idia greets Epel for the first time with, “Pomefiore fancy pants has joined your party.”

Epel and Cater overlap in a vignette where Cater—like most students—seems hung up on Epel’s physical appearance without knowing anything about him, calling him a “cutie-pie” despite Epel’s displeasure and trying to convince him to start a Magicam account.

Cater invites Epel to Mostro Lounge to get a picture with him for Magicam but Epel turns him down. Interpreting Epel’s determination to please Crewel as fear, Cater offers to go with him to apologize for a mistake that Epel made in class so that they can face Crewel together.

Epel reveals that he has compensated for the mistake he made in class on his own, surprising Cater with his homemade fertilizer, using horse manure from the Equestrian club. (Cater: “That’s the last thing I’d expect from dainty little Eppy...you’re not just a pretty face.”)

Cater again tries to get a picture of Epel for Magicam, convinced that he could easily become an influencer, but Epel again turns him down in favor of going to the library to study. Cater goes with him.

When Epel tells Cater about chasing crows around on his family's farm back in Harveston Cater comments, "I can't even imagine it-it's such a huge contrast to how you look..."

[im-just-a-little-freak]

updated tfp vore pt3

Starscream

-this is gonna majorly suck for you.

-he really doesn’t eat people often.

-but when he dose it’s with rather little care for the person being consumed.

-unless you’re a human he thinks is alright, he will be more careful.

-he isn’t going to bite you (hard) but he won’t be very careful as you go down his throat.

-stomach is pretty tight, not uncomfortable though, he is a very gangly man, and doesn’t have much light.

-megatron doesn’t give star boy here a healthy amount of energon (purely a headcanon) so this may or may not lead to him abandoning his standards and push a few humans behind his teeth.

-you’re totally fine, he couldn’t digest you if he wanted to, he can only absorb energon.

-probably gonna hunt you a little, draw out the terror as he follows you, talking about his exact plans, what’s gonna happen and how helpless you are.

-smug little bitch when he actually eats you, all seriousness just slowly evaporates as he giggles like he’s thought of the most genius plan to ever plan.

-he dose find it rather hard to be comfortable with a person inside, it’s not like he’s squirming, but he can’t sit fully relaxed unless said human isn’t moving, which is kinda impossible.

-might rant to whichever poor sod he had eaten about his hate for Megatron and his own life.

now for my other concerns.

this man here, he’s a prey, someone needs to eat him, look at him, he looks like a wet cat, get a larger cybertronian to eat him, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-

-he squirms, he will yell like he’s being stabbed when someone tries to eat him.

-when he is actually inside he just sits, absalutly fuming inside

-kicks, bites, shrieks, the works, it’s not going to be fun, or easy.

-but he isn’t totally unwilling.

-if he is being hunted down by Megatron, he’d be more then happy then hiding inside someone who he’s semi close to, he wouldn’t be happy, but he would be willing.

-he may chill at after some time, just give him an energon cube and feed his ego, he might calm down, relax even.

-*angry loud yelling* ten minutes later *Reluctant acceptance* ten minutes later *eppy*

[samagoblin]

Hello everyone!

First post here, I hope you like the fan art of this little sleepy eppy boy Hypnos from Hades :3

[42-3e]

eppy boi

Little doodle of my beloved Drift :3

[restingobject5757]

Oh my god.. I want one… he’s such a eppy boi. I would carry him around everywhere with me. Like excuse me this is my little pocket sans. Honestly I’m gonna make all my clothes have pockets so I can hold this little man!💝💝💯🤍

don’t wake him

[yoshiintheweb]

You know scratch that

Instead, before i will go soo soo eppy deepy to sleep, I will tell you a tale about my little special Boi Bazyli. So his my OC for like a little book i work on and off since like 2018. And his a weirdo. Mostly bc his the most polish nerd you will ever meet but he lives in nowhere, Wales so it's strange and off-putting for most around him. His my little freak and i love him. He speaks in polish sayings but translated to English so to confuse people. His a little chaos goblin. He pranks his school. Like you must wear a uniform type of school. He has big ass scar on half of his face cuz reasons. His scared of priests for apparently no bigger reason just that it's sound funny cuz Poland is big on Jesus. He has fuck ton of siblings (biological and adopted). He lives on a farm. He has a pet snake. He used to have a pet bunny. He has a crush on a goth girl. He has dumb haircut. He has ominous and prophetic visions sometime. His friends with a multiple dead people. His a total loser. His My personal hero. His fashion sense consist of hand me down clothes and a pure spite to make them look cool. His music taste is just the most girly thing you can think of. Bazyli the dude of all time, just some little fella who has no swag and the biggest amount of rizz you will ever see at the same time.

[eppysboys]

John Lennon in Australia talking about Brian Epstein

[withahappyrefrain]

Here Comes the Sun 3/3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 Playlist

Summary: An unexpected journey causes Peter to learn new things and make revelations.

Warnings: AFAB!reader, language, talk and description of depression and anxiety. Reader is given a name but it's very brief (and you can ignore it if you want)

Up until recently, Peter never understood why people focused on yesterday. He was always glad to go on with the next day. It meant he survived whatever plagued him the night before, whether it be a weekly villain or his own personal demons. 

It meant he had another chance to try to make up for his past mistakes. He never wanted to harp on the day before, it wouldn't change anything. He learned that a long time ago. 

But now?

He believed in yesterday. 

He’d give anything to go back to his own world. It was so off-putting. Everything looked so familiar and yet was completely different. This world had Spider-Man and Peter Parker in it, but it wasn’t the same. 

Why was he here? How did he get here? To this new universe? Did time work differently here? How long had he been gone from his own world? It could have been a difference of just a few hours or days. Did May notice he was gone?

His mind immediately went to the little ball of sunshine that he had run away from

Guilt rang through his body whenever he thought of her. Spending time with her was more enjoyable than he had expected. But he never meant to get so caught up, to kiss her. It was a mistake. A huge, cosmic mistake. 

Because as baffling and as confusing and as charming and as adorable as she was, he never meant to hurt her. Despite his best efforts to avoid eye contact as he left, he couldn’t help it. He looked at her. He saw the pain in her now dull eyes, the anger. 

This was for the best, right? Now she could move on. Find someone who could actually laugh and smile and relax. Someone who shined as bright as her. Someone who didn’t suffocate her light, like he did. 

Peter turned his attention back to his current predicament. He had always wondered about multiple universes and their existence. He even researched it during college. When questioned about it, Peter responded that it was simply “a cool theory”. 

The truth was that Peter theorized that if multiple universes were real, multiple versions of a person could also be real. 

And the teenager who shared the same name only strengthened that theory. 

Which was why, selfishly, the first thing Peter did was to test out a theory he had since he was nineteen. 

He had to see if she was out there.

—--------- 

She died in 2012. One of the many casualties in the Battle of New York. Peter had searched all over the city for her (it was easy to go unnoticed when folks believed you were just dressing up for money and pictures). His search led him to a cemetery. The sight was familiar but also sickeningly. 

She had died while helping a young boy. Protected him, sacrificed herself. 

Was that Gwen's fate, no matter the universe? 

Was the universe that cruel? How could someone so bright be tied to such a fate? 

Peter stared hard at the tombstone. The sight never became easier to stomach. 

"I don't…..I don't know if you're the same as my Gwen. You share the same name. So hopefully it's not weird that I'm talking to you," Peter then muttered, "he says to a tombstone." 

This wasn't his first time. Her tombstone was all he had left of Gwen. While he didn't visit every day of the week like he once did, it was still a sacred site for him. In a twisted way, it was comforting. It felt like she was somehow still there. 

"I….I met this girl. And you…you would have really liked her. She's funny and doesn’t hesitate to give it right back to me. She's pretty bright too. Different from you. Not saying she isn't smart, but she's….she just has this weird tendency to light up a room when she walks in. Her name is Eppie, and she sometimes goes by MJ, but I call her Sunshine because she's…..she's always smiling and just feels warm." 

Peter rocked himself back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

"I….we went on two dates and at the end of the last one….I kissed her. And what I hated about it was that…I didn't feel guilty for kissing her. I felt more guilt over not feeling guilty," His voice became soft, "Why…why didn't I feel guilty?" 

He knew one potential answer. But that couldn't be it.  

"I know if you could speak to me, you'd tell me to move on. But every time I try to move on, someone gets hurt. I tried to move on from my parents, and I lost Ben. I tried to move on from Ben, and I lost you. If I try to move on from you….I don't want her to get hurt." 

Even if she somehow was able to talk to him, Peter doubted she could give him a comforting answer. 

Folks on the outside would say he had a choice. But he didn't. Peter could never be that selfish again. He could never let someone in, immediately putting them at risk. The value of the potential loss was too high.  

He was supposed to be alone. 

__________________

After learning the fate of this universe's Gwen Stacy, Peter decided to focus on another name. His own. 

Thanks to the numerous TVs plastered in Times Square, he was able to pick up the key details. This young boy was also named Peter Parker, he also had very similar abilities and his secret identity was also Spiderman. At least, it was a secret until recently. 

Though Peter didn't have all the details, it was safe to say he was on Team Spidey. Mysterio was a grown man outing a kid. Anyone who does that could not have good intentions. 

It was safe to assume this version or variation of himself was going through a lot. He was still a kid, still in high school. 

It was also safe to assume that perhaps, this universe's Peter could help him get back home. Surely, if something had to be amiss if he was able to travel into a different world. 

Peter couldn’t tell if it was his Spider-like sense, or the fact that they shared the same name and abilities. But something was troubling the boy. He needed help. 

Perhaps Peter could help him. 

He just had to find him first. 

—----------------------

“Prove it. That you’re Peter Parker.”

Peter never thought he would have to prove who he was. Usually the suit was enough evidence. 

Though, he did respect that this universe’s Peter’s girlfriend was not as easily trusting as her friend. He would have done the exact same thing, if the roles were reversed. 

“Crawl around,” She demanded, bread in hand. Perhaps not teaching high school wasn’t a mistake. But he didn’t blame the young girl. She was being protective, which given all that had been released from his own universe (and potentially others), made total sense.  

It was a lot all at once. Peter hadn’t expected to get berated by two teenagers. Nor did he expect them to confirm that magic existed within their universe. 

Nor did he expect a third Peter Parker. 

Peter foolishly thought he would have the upper-hand due to age. How quickly his hand was webbed proved him wrong. Peter didn’t feel bad for being suspicious-the man reciprocated the same feeling. They both were expecting a much younger Peter Parker. 

It was an odd sight. The idea of being Spider-Man as he got older wasn’t foreign to Peter, it just wasn’t something he thought about. 

More so, he actively chose not to think about it. For so long, he had associated the thought of being older to having settled down. To having a family of his own. 

That was no longer possible. 

So, he didn’t think about it. 

“This might seem kinda weird, but I’ve been trying to find your friend since I got here,” The older Peter explained to the two teenagers. Peter kept his mouth shut, as he knew he couldn’t say the exact same. 

“I just have this sense, that….he needs my help.”

“Our help,” Peter corrected. While looking for this universe’s Peter wasn’t the first thing on his list, it was his priority now. 

“Well, is there some place that he might go, that has meaning to him? Like a place he would just go to-”

“Get away from everything?” Peter finished. Turns out, having a specific spot to clear your head was a universal Peter Parker move. 

Though Peter would still argue he had the spot with the best view. 

_______

Peter watched as MJ and Ned comforted their Peter. He stayed in the background with the oldest Peter, not wanting to be seen just yet. 

“I got some understanding-”

“Please don’t tell me you know what I’m going through. She’s gone. And it’s all my fault” The younger Peter told him. 

He saw himself in the young man. Specifically after Gwen died. The grief was overpowering, radiating off of him. As was the anger. 

The boy was at a crossroads. 

The exact crossroads he was in, nearly ten years ago. 

If this had happened a few years ago, Peter would have told him to bury it. That the best way to honor the lost lives was to completely devote himself to being Spider-Man, to keeping everyone else safe. 

But was that really a life?

The last few weeks of Peter’s life had brought him a haunting realization. 

He was lonely. He was bitter. He had given up everything he as Peter Parker wanted. And all for what? 

Sure, he could say it was to honor Uncle Ben and Gwen. But he knew deep down, they would be saddened if they saw what he had become. They wouldn’t feel honor at all. 

It may be too late for him to turn it around. But this boy still had that chance. He just didn’t know it. Didn’t know that the path he was looking to take was not the right one. Not the one his Aunt May would have wanted for him. And perhaps, that was why the universe sent him here. To prevent the same thing from occurring again. 

“I lost….I lost Gwen. My……she was my MJ.” Peter never talked about this with others. For one, he couldn’t. It was also too painful. But right now, his younger variant’s pain was more important than his own, “I couldn’t save her and I’m never going to be able to forgive myself for that.”

Peter sniffed, trying to hold back the tears, “But I carried on, tried to, um... try to keep going, try to keep being the uh... that “Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man,” ‘cause I knew that’s what she would have wanted. But at some point, I just-- I stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. I got bitter.”

These thoughts weren’t new. They had always been looming at the back of Peter’s mind. Always tried to sneak out, tried to make him aware whenever May would suggest setting him up with someone. The thoughts had been on the forefront of his mind ever since meeting….his MJ? It felt weird to call her that, given how the younger Peter also had someone who went by MJ (which was a very weird coincidence). Sunshine. That felt right. Though she wasn’t his Sunshine. 

She would never be. 

Peter tried to shove the thoughts of her away. That’s not what mattered now. Even though his brain kept going back to her. Whether it was memories of their past interactions or wonderings of what she was doing right now, if she had noticed he was gone. 

“I just don’t want you to end up like….like me.” In a way, it was therapeutic. Not that he should be focusing on himself-the younger variant was more important right now. But to actually say it out loud….brought something to Peter. He couldn’t identify whether it was comfort or alleviation. Whatever it was, he hoped it had gotten through to the younger Peter. 

“...Even after she was hurt, she said to me that we did the right thing. She told me that, “With great power--”

“”Comes great responsibility.” The oldest Peter finished. 

“Wait, what? How do you know that?”

Maybe they had more in common than they thought. More than just their name and the origin of their powers. 

—------

Another thing all three Peter Parkers had in common was science. They were all really good at it. 

Peter didn’t mind the distraction. He had already figured out a cure for Connors, so making a second one wouldn’t be too difficult. 

But as he looked at the younger Peter and his MJ comfort each other, Peter began to wish he had chosen something more challenging. Where he could focus on the task at hand and not be caught up in the young lovers. 

He saw himself and Gwen. The innocence. The overwhelming yet naive belief that somehow, their love could conquer any obstacle that came their way. 

Peter knew the truth now. And yet, he still found himself longing for it. Which was ridiculous, he knew better. He had known and accepted his reality for years. What was he longing for? To rest his forehead against someone else’s and breathe in their scent of lavender?

Wait, why lavender?

Fuck. Sunshine. She always smelled like lavender. Peter recalled how nauseating it was whenever she leaned into him, the scent filling his nostrils and how he would get distracted by her bright, beautiful eyes and-

“You have someone?” Peter was thankful the oldest Parker variant had snapped him out of his thoughts. Though he wished the question hadn’t been related to what he was thinking. 

“No. I got no time for uh,” He sighed, “Peter Parker stuff, you know?”

The oldest Peter Parker was hard to read. Was he giving a look of understanding? Disappointment? Concern?

“Do you?” Peter asked, hoping for clarification. 

He hesitated, “Uh, that’s a little complicated.” Peter felt relief. It wasn’t just him. Clearly the youngest Parker was just an outlier. 

“No, I understand. It’s just not in the cards for guys like us.” He had hoped, upon seeing the two other variations of himself, that it would validate him. That what he had decided to do, and had intended to do for the rest of his life, was the right choice. 

That when he said it, Peter could actually believe his own words. 

He was wrong. 

 “Well, I wouldn’t give up. It took a while, but…we made it work.” He looked more hopeful

“Yeah?” How? How could he make it work? How was that possible, when it seemed like the universe(s) were giving signs that it wasn’t. 

“Yeah, me and MJ.”

MJ?

“My MJ. It gets confusing here." Peter laughed with the oldest variant before going back to work. It was funny that all three Peter's knew an MJ. 

Wait. 

MJ. 

MJ. 

MJ. 

Holy shit. 

One MJ was nothing. Two was just a coincidence. But three? 

That had to mean something. But what? 

The younger Peter's MJ was definitely his girlfriend. 

While he didn't specify, it was clear the older Peter was romantically involved with his MJ. 

And as for Peter's own MJ…. 

Oh God, he went on two dates with her. He kissed her. 

And he liked it. A lot. 

If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to do it again. Kiss her and spend more time with her. It was the most alive he had felt in years.   

But that couldn't mean….. 

Granted, it was hard to argue with the math. All three Peter Parker's knew someone named MJ. Two out of the three were in a romantic relationship with them. Peter himself was on that path before he ran away from it. 

Fuck. 

Granted, was it really that bad? He did admit to enjoying the time he spent with her. As well as kissing her.   

It was never a heatstroke. Or fever. Or some weird gas the latest villain of the week created. 

He liked her. He felt alive around her. The time he spent with her was the happiest he had felt in years.    

But her being around him was a great risk. She cared, which meant she could get hurt. 

That couldn't happen again. 

—---

He noticed her immediately. How did she end up here? She wasn't supposed to be here.  

This was why Peter was thankful there was no magic in his universe. He couldn't imagine all the shit people would try to pull, that he would have to clean up, as the NYPD would be even more useless.  

The feeling of Deja Vu was strong. It was unsettling. She shouldn't be here. She could get hurt. 

Really hurt. 

As he continued to complete his tasks, Peter kept an eye on this universe’s MJ. Scaffolds were breaking, pumpkin bombs, wizards abound. 

The circumstances may have been different, but the risk was still there. 

Peter could feel it in the pit of his stomach. He had to watch her. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. Her Peter had already lost so much. If something happened to her….

Peter-one wouldn’t end up like Peter. He’d be much worse. 

That couldn’t happen. Peter refused. Her life would not be cut short and her Peter would not be broken. 

He ran closer to the ledge as he saw her fall backwards. It felt like that dreadful night at the Tower. The night that no matter how much time had passed, still felt like it had just happened yesterday. 

He saw MJ. He also saw Gwen. He saw his own MJ. All falling down towards the ground. 

For a brief moment, it looked like the younger Peter would be able to reach her in time. He would rescue her, preventing any harm from coming her way.  

Fate had different plans, as that Goblin slammed into him, carrying him away. 

No. Not today. This was not going to happen. 

Peter swung down towards her. Webbing her was too risky, she was falling too fast. Webs wouldn’t be able to save her in time. 

Peter knew this because for the last ten years, he’d laid in bed late at night, replaying this scenario. Analyzing every detail, every action. What he had done and what he should have done differently. 

He knew what to do. What he always wished he could have done. 

He wrapped his arms around her, securing her. He quickly shot a web up towards one of the scaffolds, allowing him to land on his feet with her in his arms. 

She was gasping for air, most likely adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

“Are you okay?” Peter asked her. He needed her to respond. He had to hear her talk because otherwise, how would he truly know it had worked? That she was indeed safe?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” She whispered.

It worked. He did it. 

What he failed to do ten years ago, he did it just now. Instead of a dead, limp body in his arms, he was holding a living and breathing one. 

He saved her. 

At first it felt bittersweet. It had been so easy, why couldn’t he had done that ten years ago? But if he had…..if webbing had somehow worked ten years ago, who was to say it would have worked now? Would he have even known? 

He was already broken and damaged. But the younger Peter wouldn’t be. 

"Are you okay?" She asked. He shouldn’t be surprised. Usually when you rescue someone, you’re not holding back tears. 

He could only nod his head in response. Neither she or her Peter needed to know what he just saved them from. All the pain, grief, and anguish. 

They never would know, thanks to him. 

He saved them. He saved another person from having to experience what he went through. If he hadn't been here, this universe's Peter would have gone down the same path. But he wouldn't now. 

It was comforting in a way. For the first time in years, Peter felt proud of himself. 

He felt closure. Like this was what he had been working towards all these years. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

Despite all the chaos surrounding them, he felt at peace. 

Perhaps he wasn’t a failure. Perhaps he could still be a hero. Perhaps, not everything he touched was ruined or lost. 

Perhaps he could let a little sunshine in.    

—---------------- 

The rest of the night was a whirlwind. 

Peter peered out of the alleyway, taking in the sights and sounds. In theory, he should be back in his universe.  

But considering everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours, he was cautious. 

Everything looked normal. But he had to be sure. 

"Hey yo!" Peter called to a nearby walker, "Are you Team Spidey or Team Mysterio?" 

"Who the fuck is Mysterio?!" 

"I still don't really know either!" Peter exclaimed, swinging away. Whatever had happened to the city while he was gone could wait until tomorrow. He had more important things to do. 

He called her first. He considered going straight to her apartment, but what if she wasn't there? What if she was and just slammed the door in his face? Peter didn't blame her if she did that. 

Calling first would be best. He could ask if they could just talk. He could explain himself (maybe minus the whole Spiderman and traveling to different universes bit). 

Peter had a plan. 

Well, he did. But he failed to account for the possibility that she may not pick up. 

A voicemail wouldn't do. He couldn't spout his feelings over a voicemail. First, who in the world listened to a voicemail that was longer than thirty seconds? Second, what if she misconstrued what he was trying to say? 

Alright, time for plan B. Swing to her apartment. He would check if she was there and if she was, he could swing back to his place, change clothes (maybe shower) and ask for forgiveness. 

She lived in apartment 1062, which was on the left side of the tenth floor. Meaning her balcony would be- 

Peter instantly recognized the array of plants (seriously how many did she need?) And patio furniture. Lights were strung up around but they were off. 

Fuck, her whole apartment was dark. 

She wasn't there. 

He couldn't text her. Texting was super impersonal. Peter refused to be that guy. 

Waiting until she came back was also borderline stalker behavior.  But she wasn't answering her phone so how else was he supposed to figure out where she was? 

Wait. 

May. 

She knew everything. She knew Peter was Spider-Man for five years before he told her. May would know where she was. 

"Oh my god, Peter!" May immediately went off on a tangent as soon as she picked up, "You've been gone for a week! Where on Earth were you?!" 

"Uh…it's kinda a long story. We should definitely be drinking wine when I tell you all about it. But I'm okay! I promise! I would have called you but the reception was really bad." 

"I've been worried sick. I asked Eppie if she had seen you-"

"Eppie?" 

"Oh, does she go by MJ with you?" 

"You mean Sunshine!" Why did she have to have so many names?! Granted, Peter had bestowed the last one himself. 

"Speaking of which, do you know where she is? I uh….we didn't end our last date on the best of terms and it's completely my fault so I need to find her and she's not answering her phone, do you think she's okay?" 

Peter could hear May sighing on the other end, "Uh…Peter, she's….she's on a date." 

Peter's heart didn't just sink. It dropped from twelve floors above. 

It had been a whole week. They weren't official. Hell, they never talked about it, probably because if she brought it up, Peter would have run the other way. 

She moved on. And why not? If he was in her shoes, he'd too jump at the chance to go on a date with someone who wasn't the human embodiment of a rain cloud. 

Was this the end of their story? 

No. Not if Peter could help it.

"Where's her date?" He asked. This could go either really well or absolutely horrible. And the easiest option would be just to assume she had moved on and accepted it. 

Perhaps it was the fact that for the first time in ten years, Peter Parker felt hopeful. 

Whether his hope was making him overly confident, he didn't know. Only one way to find out. 

"I believe her Aunt said they were going to get coffee and a bite to eat. It would have started thirty minutes ago, wait, Peter what are-" 

"I'll see you tomorrow and I promise I'll bring ya some hamantaschen from the deli on twelfth street!" Peter hung up and tucked his phone in his pocket. 

Despite what had happened over the last forty-eight hours, this was probably the bravest thing he was about to do. 

—----

He stopped by the café on Fifth Street first. The one she wanted to visit on their first date. 

To Peter's dismay, she wasn't there. Crap, did she already leave? Peter's stomach twisted in knots at the thought of her date going so well, they were already on their way home. 

He had come so far, this couldn't be the end. 

Wait. 

There was one other coffee place she could have gone to. 

Was it presumptuous of Peter to assume she went to the one they visited on their first date? Maybe. 

It was also his only lead. And it was better than swinging by all the coffee shops within a five mile radius of her apartment building. 

—---------

Peter leaned over the rooftop, trying his best to stay hidden. 

What would he even say to her? Revealing his secret identity in front of nearby strangers was the last thing he wanted. 

He needed to apologize. To explain why he has run away and why he's now back. To ask for forgiveness. 

Would she even want to listen to him? Peter wouldn't blame her for that.  

Well, maybe she would talk to Spider-Man. Maybe he could figure out how she was feeling, without her knowing who she was really talking to. Was it dishonest? Probably. 

But it did give him a chance to see where her head was at. If she said she never wanted to talk to Peter Parker again, he would listen. If she said she was open to talking, he could go home, change, and then- 

"I wouldn't get in that taxi if you paid off my student loans!" A familiar voice interrupted Peter's thoughts.  

Peter looked up and fuck, she was beautiful. Why did he run away in the first place? Because he was stupid and scared. Which he was more than willing to fully admit to- 

Wait, why was she yelling at this dude? 

"We spent a whole hour together, not once did you ask me a question at all, and you think I'm getting into a taxi with you? How draft are you?!" 

"I mean, we can talk at my place-"

"Oh yes, because I'm sure that's exactly what you want to do at your place. 'Talk'!" She said in air quotes. 

For someone so tiny, she sure could hold her own. 

Still, Peter quietly swung down, landing behind her. 

"She does have a point! A whole hour and you didn't ask her one thing?" He said, startling the two. 

When she turned around to look at him, it took Peter's breath away. He missed her. The whole damn time he was away in another universe, his mind always wandered back to her. 

"Look, you're acting like I don't know anything about her!" The guy, who Peter assumed was the date, defended. 

Peter put his hands on his hips, "What's her occupation then?" 

The guy stared blankly at her. She smirked, casting Peter a knowing look. 

"You're….you do theatre!" 

Before he could stop himself, Peter shook his head. Even he wasn't that bad on their first date. Probably because deep down, he wanted to get to know her, even then. 

"I teach first grade!" 

"Dude, she teaches first grade," Peter admonished. It took everything in him not to sound giddy when she smiled at him. 

"Look, it's the first date! How am I supposed to know?!" Peter silently thanked the universe that whoever this dude was, he was not going to wreck his plans. 

"It was on my profile. You know, the thing you're supposed to look at before swiping right?"  She crossed her arms. For someone who was so bright, she had no issue dishing it out. 

Peter loved that. 

"Buddy, at this point, I would just walk away," He suggested. 

"Whatever, this date wasn't even that good!" The man sighed in exasperation. 

"May you be so rich that your widow's husband never has to work a day!" She called out as the man walked away. 

"Did…did you just place a Yiddish curse on him?" Peter asked. She giggled, nodding her head. 

God, she was so cute. And he was such an idiot for letting her go. 

"Thanks, by the way. I could have handled him but it's always nice to have backup." 

Peter almost forgot to respond, getting lost in her eyes, "Oh! Uh yeah! No problem! J-Just part of the whole 'friendly neighborhood Spider-Man' thing! Uh…please tell me you're not going to call him back." 

She laughed, "Absolutely not! To be honest, I…I didn't want to go on this date." 

"Then why go?" 

She shrugged, looking down at the ground, "It's nothing. I'm sure you have much bigger things to worry about than some random person's dating life." 

"Actually it's a quiet night for once!" Peter paused, "I could…I could walk you home? If you want! Obviously you're more than capable of handling yourself but I can always-"

"Actually," she paused, "that would be lovely. It is getting kinda late." 

"Sure! Uh, w-which way should we go? Since I don't know where you live!" He was trying his best to play it cool. He had traveled through different universes now. In theory, he should be able to play it cool. 

"We gotta take a right onto sixth street," She said, smiling. The two began walking. 

"Is walking weird? Since you're so used to swinging around and all," She asked. 

"It's nice to change it up! So uh…what uh what made you go on a date that you didn't want to go on?" He asked. 

Sunshine signed, "I was hoping…it would help me move on from someone else. And unfortunately, that didn't happen. I honestly think it made it worse." 

"You were trying to move on? From someone?" He asked, his voice shaking. Sure, her attempt failed. But the fact she was attempting to forget about him was less than promising. 

"Yeah," She shrugged, fidgeting with her hands, "Trying to move on from someone who didn't want me." 

I do want you, was what he wanted to say. But then that would complicate things even more. His goal here was to understand how she was feeling, so he knew how to approach her as Peter. 

"And you're sure that-that he doesn't want you? I mean, maybe he does!"

She shook her head, "He…I shouldn't be telling you all this, but he lost someone he loved a long time ago. And their death was really hard on him," She stopped walking, looking right at him, "And I don't fault him for that at all. But…I don't think he's ready to move on and I'd rather not wait around to find out, y'know?" 

Peter hated how valid her statement was. He also hated how he couldn't tell her that was she wrong. He was ready to move on. He wanted to move on, to her. 

"I mean….that makes sense," He paused, "But maybe…maybe he does want to move on! Maybe he wants to be with you. I…I don't know the guy, but you never know!" 

She shrugged, "That's the thing I guess. I don't know." 

The two approached the apartment building. Peter didn't feel any closer to accomplishing his goal. 

She turned around, her lips forming into a tight smile. Peter hated that he couldn't get a read on her. He had been hoping that this walk would have granted him the chance to see where her head was at, so he knew exactly how to approach her as Peter Parker. 

“Thank you for….tonight. It was nice to see this side of you.” Though only for a brief moment, he foolishly thought she was referring to Peter. 

Of course not. 

He nodded his head, in understanding, “I’m glad I was able to show it to you.”

She began to dig her heels into the pavement, beginning to turn. Peter’s heart lurched. He began to reach out, as if he would cast her back in, afraid to lose her again. 

“Wait!” He called out. She suddenly turned to him, caught off guard by his urgency. 

“Sorry! It’s just….I think you should give this guy another chance.” That wasn’t entirely how he planned to start that, but since when did anything Peter planned actually come to fruition the way it was originally imagined?

She raised an eyebrow as she folded her arms. Was that a scowl? Was she trying to look intimidating?

It was adorable. 

"I….look, I just….think the chance for that has already passed. Thanks again for walking me home," and with that she walked into her apartment building. 

Fuck that was not how it was supposed to go. He couldn't let it end like that. 

Peter swung up, instantly recognizing the array of plants and matching patio set. The lights turned on, alerting him that he wasn't alone. 

"What the actual fu-" 

"Look, just-I just need you to hear me out and then I promise I'll go away!" He said, putting his hands up to show he meant no harm. 

She leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed. "You have five minutes."  

“I just…yes, he absolutely has shit he needs to work on. Like really work on. Probably needs to speak to a therapist and maybe that is-will- be the first time he ever admits to it. Anyways!” Peter was already out of breath, “He probably knows this and I’m sure he really likes you, he’s just…scared. Well, more like absolutely terrified. Be-because I know what it’s like to lose someone you love and you….you accept that you’ll never get another chance, that you don’t deserve one, and it’s for the best, right? So you accept it and try your best to live your life. And then….you come along and you’re just pure sunshine.”

“Spider-Man, I-”

“I know we just met and I clearly don’t know you. But I’m sure that’s what he calls because no other name would make sense. It’s what you are and it’s everything he’s not and that may or may not have also played a factor in how he acted-again, I don’t know this guy! You're everything he's not and he's probably wondering why you would even give him the time of the day and….he’s just scared. And that doesn't give him the right to have been a total dick to you-”

“Spider-” She tried again. Peter was so wrapped up in his own rambling that he didn’t notice the flash of annoyance in her eyes, or how she threw her hands in the air.

“He’s scared because….you just pop out of nowhere and all of a sudden, this warm, fuzzy, slightly-nauseating feeling comes back and he probably didn’t even recognize it at first! Just thinking he was having a heat stroke or something. And then, there’s the sudden, literal hair-raising realizing it’s possible for this….to feel this way about someone again and… I mean, I'm just assuming-”

“Spi-”

“Yes, I-I am aware I’m rambling and I’m sure this is super weird for you and I should probably go, but just please, you gotta give him another-”

“Peter.” She stepped forward so that she didn't have to say his name loudly. He had forgotten how pleasant it was to hear her say his name. How grounding it was, pulling him from the nonsensical rambling daze he was in. 

Wait. Why did she say his name?

"I-I'm not-"

"You don't think I'd recognize your voice?" She said with a chuckle, "I've known since you asked me about the Yiddish curse I threw on that douchebag." 

"And you didn't say anything?!" Peter asked, aghast. He couldn't tell if he should be grateful or insulted. 

"Well, I figured revealing your identity was something you try to avoid," She stepped away from the door, towards him, "....and I wanted to see what you had to say." 

 "Oh, well…" Peter reached up to pull off his mask, finally revealing his face, "uh…hey." 

He cursed himself. Hey? That was the best he could do? He had traveled through different universes, had essentially one giant group therapy session with other variants of himself, and the best he could come up with was hey? Peter couldn't-

Shit, she was getting closer to him. 

Though it had only been two days since he last saw her, Peter forgot how bright her eyes were. How captivating they were. Every time he looked into them, it felt like he discovered they held a new shade of- 

The searing pain scorched along his cheek broke him out of his thoughts. His head was now turned away from her, his eyesight now on the matching peach patio set. 

Peter turned towards her, bringing a hand up to his burning, now sore, cheek. Her raised hand confirmed it. 

"You slapped me." He said meekly. 

"Yeah, been wanting to for a week now," She said casually, crossing her arms. Was that a smirk? Was she smirking that she had slapped him? 

Peter couldn't lie, it was a pretty good slap. And she took full advantage of him, he was bending his knees to be at eye level, allowing her to reach up without over extending her arm. 

"I….I didn't expect that," Peter paused, "But I do deserve that."  

"Ya think? First of all, you leave me hanging after pulling the biggest switch ever. Then you fucking disappear for a week?! Please tell me you've called or seen May, she's been worried sick and-" 

"Of course I did! She's the one who told me you had a date when I asked where you were!" 

"You asked for me?" She asked, as if she didn't believe it. 

"Yes. After being sent back from another universe, you were the first person I wanted to see. I called you but you didn't pick up. And I…I didn't… I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me so I called May to let her know I was okay and ask where you were!" Peter explained. 

She blinked, "We are…we'll talk about the universe thing later. So did you….did you follow me? Even after knowing I was on a date? How did you know where to find me?" She asked. Peter realized in hindsight while the gesture could come across as romantic, it could also come across as stalkerish. 

"Well….May said you were getting coffee and I remembered the place you suggested on our first date. But you weren't there so I went to the coffee shop we went to and I realize this makes me sound like a stalker and I didn't really have a plan as to what I would do but what I just said as Spider-Man, I meant it you just have to replace 'he' with I and-"

"Peter," She tried to interject but it was too late. He was off on a tangent. 

"I really do like you and I know I have stuff I need to work on and I should totally see a therapist-" 

"You have to if you want to keep seeing me." Her words stopped Peter in his tracks. 

"Wha-huh?" 

"I like you. I want to keep seeing you.”

“You want to keep seeing me?” Peter asked. Surprised was an understatement. As much as he wanted a second chance, part of him still wasn’t expecting to get one. After all, two second chances within the same day was nearly impossible. 

“Did you….were you not listening to when I was telling Spider-Man how tonight’s date proved I still had feelings for you?”

"Did you not hear the part when as Spider-Man, I was telling you how I don't know why you'd want me when you're everything I'm not? Also you slapped me!" Peter defended

"You deserved that slap, you said so yourself," her voice softened, "Also, I like that you're different from me…it's one of my favorite things about you." 

Peter wasn't sure how to respond. He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when he went to see her tonight. 

She must have sensed this, "Yes, that includes when you're the human embodiment of a rain cloud. Which isn't a bad thing. You need rain to help flowers grow, after all." 

The scent of lavender flooded his nostrils, alerting him to how close she was. He forgot how comforting her smile was. It was grounding, like the first ray of sun after a torrential downpour. 

"And yes, I will support you but I'm not going to be your therapist." Peter nodded his head. It was fair. Completely fair. More than fair. 

"I'm more than happy to help you find one and figure out a way to talk about your trauma without revealing your identity," She paused, "You think you could just go as Spider-Man?" 

Peter laughed, a warm, safe feeling spreading throughout his body. 

"I'm serious!" She giggled, "They can't break their oath, they gotta keep it confidential!" 

"I missed you," He said without thinking, "And…I am really, really, sorry for how I left things last time." 

She nodded her head. A small smile appeared on her face, though Peter could still see the hesitancy in her eyes. "You have two weeks to find someone. Therapist, psychiatrist, both. If you haven't by then, I'm out." 

It was fair. Completely fair. It was also the biggest second chance Peter had received. 

"I understand and I…I don't want to let you down again," He assured her. 

She moved her hands up to the neckline of his suit, fidgeting with it. 

She looked into his eyes, smiling, "I look forward to you proving that." 

Peter nodded his head, slowly placing his hands on her hips. 

"Can I….Can I uh…" 

"I'm not finishing your sentence for you. You're gonna have to use your words Tiger," She smiled, throwing her arms around his neck. 

If she wasn't so stinking cute, Peter would have remarked with some witty comeback. 

"Can I…kiss you?" He mumbled the last part, looking at the ground. He knew his face was bright red, he could feel the heat practically radiating off of himself. And it definitely wasn't a heatstroke. 

"I thought you never asked!" She giggled, like it was nothing. 

"Anyone ever tell you that you can be really infuriating sometimes?" Peter remarked, looking back up at her. 

"Last time I checked, small and infuriating was exactly your type," She stood on her toes, bringing herself closer to his face. 

"So what's your type? Tall, grumpy, and a vigilante?" He felt relaxed in her arms. The banter was fun now. It felt natural, like they were always meant to do this. 

Perhaps they were. 

His sunshine laughed, nodding her head, "I haven't dated any other masked vigilantes before, but it does make sense with-"

"Dated? Are we-are you implying we're dating?" Despite the grin, his heart soared at her implication. 

She bit her tongue, "I am…I am hoping that is what we can do once you hold up your end of the deal. I didn't mean to say it, you're just….you're not the only one who gets nervous, I'm just much better at hiding it compared to you." 

"Oh, so your type is infuriating too?" 

"Are you gonna kiss me or do I have to do it-" She never got to finish her sentence, due to Peter crashing his lips on hers. 

It felt right. For the first time in ten years, things felt right for Peter Parker. 

—---------------------------- 

One year later…… 

"Peter, I swear to God if you come any closer," Peter couldn't help but grin at her using her 'teacher' voice on him. 

"You're gonna send me to the time out corner, Sunshine?" He inched closer to the counter. 

"It is the calm down corner, thank you very much. Also how do you expect me to make rugelach when you keep stealing spoonful's of the filling?" 

Peter shrugged, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his head on top of her's. She was the perfect size.

Perfect for him. And he (as he had come to accept) was perfect for her. 

"Peter," She warned as she intently watched him move his hand to her's. 

"What?" He brought her wrist up to his lips, "just wanted something sweet." 

She sighed, biting her bottom lip. Peter knew that look. He loved that look, as it told him that he had succeeded in making her flustered. 

"That was pretty smooth, you gotta admit," He teased.  

"If I do, will you let me focus on baking?" Her voice may have been stern, but the smile on her face told Peter otherwise. 

"Fine," He kissed her cheek before walking away, "I'll just admire my wonderful, beautiful, talented girlfriend from afar." 

"Your life is so hard. I don't know how you do it.  " She deadpanned. 

"What are you two lovebirds up to?" May's voice filled the room. 

"I'm just making rugelach for FEAST tomorrow, Peter is bemoaning how hard it is to let me focus," Sunshine called out. 

"Can I not appreciate my girlfriend? I'm feeling really attacked right now, Sunshine," He remarked, feigning offense. 

She looked over her shoulder to send him a smile. It was his favorite smile of her's-  the one where her whole face lit up and the corner of her eyes crinkled. She always had that smile when he referred to her by that specific nickname. 

"Peter, can you help me with something in the living room?" May asked, motioning for Peter to follow her. The quick wink she gave him alerted Peter to trail behind her quickly. 

"Did you find it?" Peter whispered once they were out of earshot. 

May nodded her head, "I had to look through several boxes but I finally found it!" 

She reached into her pocket to pull out the ring. 

Several years ago, May had told Peter that she wanted to give it to him-so he could use it when the time came, just like Ben had many, many years ago. 

Peter had told her at the time that she could keep it. That he didn't plan on needing an engagement ring. 

Funny how things change. 

May handed him the ring. "You're gonna have to get it resized," She explained. 

He nodded his head, focusing on the ring he was holding. 

"Peter, that means you're going to need her ring size," She added. 

"I know how rings work May!" He whispered. 

"Do you know her ring size?" 

Peter stared at his Aunt blankly. 

"I'll ask her. If you ask, it's going to be really obvious. I'll tell her I'm getting rid of some jewelry." Peter was thankful he had Many. Despite making his intentions very clear (while intoxicated and sober), he wanted this to be somewhat of a surprise. 

"Peter, I'll let you have some more filling if you help me roll out the pastry dough. Deal?" A voice called from the kitchen. 

He quickly put the ring in his pocket, running back into the kitchen in an attempt to play it cool. 

"Yeah, sounds like a great deal!" He said, moving back to the counter. 

"What did May need your help with?" She asked. 

Peter shrugged, "oh she just needed me to move the couch. Something of her's rolled underneath there."

She looked at him, her eyebrows raised. Whatever caused her not to question him, Peter was thankful for it. 

His arms quickly found themselves wrapped around her waist again. 

"I love you Sunshine," He murmured into her hair. 

She paused, her hands stilling. She titled her back back so she could look into his eyes.

"I love you too Peter. Now are you gonna just stand and stare or help me roll out this dough?" 

Peter laughed, "Dough rolling assistant reporting for duty!" 

She shook her head, though that soft smile still remained. 

His own little ray of sun.

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

8K words later and here we are! Thank you for all the kind words and comments!!! I do want to write a little more for these two and hopefully can do so after my vacation! I hope you enjoyed this journey. Don't be afraid to share your favorite bits!

@rae-gar-targaryen @blooming-violets @liz-allyn @fantasticcopeaglepasta @harrysbabygirl @impossible-ozzie @boarmaskedbastard @everything163 @jrjlc

@papaya-047 @realspideyspice @odilevonbrekker @decadentpaperduck @letmeplaytheliontoo

@abibliophobiaa @mrshipsmcgee @gratefulstranger

@shaded-echoes-recs

[andellaheartz]

Messenger boy ! The little guyy dawww the eppy 🥰🥰🥰 the *mercilessly crushes him with my fist*

(insta design by @applejuiceyjuice-art )