*WHOOOOOSh!*

Vibrant purple cracks gracefully emerged, as if painting a mesmerizing masterpiece across the confines of reality. These enchanting rifts unveiled an expansive cosmos that seemed to stretch into infinity.

...and believe it or not, this breathtaking spectacle unfolded within the modest confines of a small, tiny, little washroom. In this unlikely setting, a brown-haired teenager stood, exuding an air of sophistication in his prom suit.

As seconds passed, those vibrant purple cracks that had opened up began to gradually merge back into the fabric of everyday reality. Like puzzle pieces finding their place, they seamlessly disappeared, leaving behind the usual surroundings of the small washroom.

Amidst this quiet transformation, the familiar notes of Billy Joel's classic hit, "Uptown Girl," wafted in from the world outside. The catchy melody added an unexpected layer of charm to the scene.

Peter's gaze wandered around the space, his eyes searching for something or someone. And then, breaking the silence, he voiced his question aloud, 

"Hey, does anyone know where Mr. Birbum is?"

In response to Peter's inquiry, a soft and nearly inaudible squeak escaped from Ms. Speepee. Meanwhile, Mr. Poopoo, who had been lost in a deep contemplation, gradually lifted his gaze. The profound expression that once graced his face now carried a tinge of melancholy.

"Ah," Peter exclaimed, a subtle sense of realization crossing his features. He shook his head in a manner that conveyed a mix of understanding and mild surprise. 

It dawned on him that Mr. Birbum existed within MCU, a different realm, separate from the effects of Dr. Strange's spell that had been contained within the magic box.

A thoughtful silence settled over Peter as he pondered the situation, and a fleeting connection passed among the group, unspoken yet understood. Then, breaking the quiet, a chuckle escaped Peter's lips, accompanied by a self-deprecating smile.

"What about the books on the mystic arts?"

Once again, a faint and almost imperceptible creak escaped from Ms. Speepee. As if responding to the question, Mr. Poopoo's arm ascended slowly, creating a sense of anticipation that seemed to envelop the world in that very instant. 

Time itself seemed to pause, as if the universe held its breath, capturing the aura of greatness in that singular moment.

With a knowing gesture, Mr. Poopoo pointed his hand towards his own head, extending a short finger to tap gently on his forehead. This action was met with a subtle smirk from Peter, he affectionately rubbed the fur of the monk mouse.

The unexpected touch caused Mr. Poopoo to let out a brief squeal of surprise, which quickly gave way to a sense of comfort as he melted into the affectionate interaction. 

Peter's smile remained intact, and he extended his hand to give his lizard pet a reassuring pat, sensing a hint of jealousy.

With genuine warmth in his voice, Peter addressed them both, his smile radiating his genuine gratitude, 

"You guys mean a lot to me. Thanks for always having my back."

In a rare moment, Mr. Poopoo's expression blossomed into a faint smile while, Ms. Speepee exhibited her affection by nuzzling her head against Peter's palm, creating an endearing connection that spoke volumes without words.

Peter's attention shifted briefly to his watch, his contemplative gaze lingering on its display. He then mused aloud, a tone of curiosity evident in his voice, 

"Not even a minute has gone by since we traveled to the MCU and came back... I wonder how time operates between dimensions."

As Peter prepared to splash water on his face, the bathroom door received a few distinct knocks, interrupting his task. 

A light and jovial voice, belonging to none other than Uncle Ben, filtered through from the other side of the door, carrying a touch of humor in its tone.

"Why you taking so long in the bathroom? Did you find the secret portal to Narnia in there?"

Peter let the cool water splash over his face, and he playfully shook his head to shake off the excess drops. A subtle smile graced his lips as he raised his voice in response.

"Just the portal to my kingdom and the multiverse." 

Separated by the door, Uncle Ben nodded in mock understanding, his voice carrying a playful edge.

"Got it. I'll make sure to let Gwen, who happens to be in our living room right now, know that you're on a daring mission to explore the unknown world of plumbing and won't be able to accompany her to prom!"

Moving swiftly, Peter dried his face and palms with a napkin. He then hurriedly swung the door open, his gaze locking onto Uncle Ben's eyes with a sense of urgency. He spoke in a tone that carried a mix of seriousness and determination.

"Don't say a word, okay?"

Uncle Ben's face broke into a mischievous smirk, and he responded with a playful quip.

"I suppose that's a 'potty' secret then!"

A groan of mild exasperation escaped Peter's lips, and he rolled his eyes in response to Uncle Ben's jest. However, the teasing expression on Uncle Ben's face softened into a warm and reassuring smile. 

He reached out to pat Peter's shoulder in a comforting gesture, his voice carrying a gentle tone.

"Feeling a bit nervous, kiddo?"

Peter's head shook with a subtle hint of mischief, his lips curving into a mischievous smile.

"Nah, not really, but you might want to watch out."

As they approached the living room, Uncle Ben continued his playful banter.

"Why, are you plotting to gift us some grandchildren?" he joked.

Peter's smile remained as he gazed intently at Uncle Ben. The playfulness in Uncle Ben's expression faded, replaced by a whirlwind of emotions that danced across his face — a journey from shock to joy, anticipation to excitement.

Uncle Ben's response was swift and impatient, his tone reflecting a sense of urgency.

"I call dibs on Benjamin."

Peter responded with an eye roll, playfully dismissing Uncle Ben's claim. He then offered his own suggestion with a smirk, adding a touch of everyday simplicity to the idea.

"Come on, that's too generic and old-fashioned. I was thinking something more along the lines of... Baby."

Uncle Ben's expression twisted into a comical look of disgust as he retorted.

"That's a terrible name. Please promise me you won't be in charge of naming anyone," 

Peter responded with a playful eye roll, silently poking fun at Uncle Ben's exaggerated reaction. He silently lampooned. 

'Ms. Speepee, Mr. Poopoo, Mr. Birbum... and perhaps Mr. Bobo too. They seem to quite like their names... I mean... it could be a possibility that Bobo turned psycho due to the name but... the chance is fairly low.'

Aunt May delicately sipped from her glass of French chardonnay, her mannerisms refined and graceful. As she caught sight of the approaching boys, a subtle hint of skepticism appeared in her expression. With a characteristic blend of warmth and curiosity, she called out to them.

"What's got the two of you deep in conversation?"

Uncle Ben affectionately planted a light kiss on Aunt May's cheek as he settled down beside her on the couch. His presence exuded comfort and companionship. With a playful grin, he chimed in.

"We're just pondering the future, dear. Imagine having a grandkid named Crayon,"

Aunt May's reaction was swift and dramatic, her gasp almost causing her to choke on her wine. She coughed lightly, recovering her composure as she directed a horrified gaze at Peter. Her tone turned intense as she addressed him.

"You absolutely will not be bestowing that name upon my future grandchild," she declared firmly, her statement reinforced with a touch of humor. "And just so you know, that decision would be enough to strike your name off our will," she added, her threat laced with a hint of mock seriousness.

Peter's expression shifted noticeably, revealing a hint of mock offense at Aunt May's reaction. He let out a scoff, clearly taking her jest in stride.

"As if I'd really do that. I was actually thinking of something more... artistic," he retorted, a playful glint in his eye. Then, a moment of inspiration seemed to strike him, and a mischievous grin formed on his lips.

"Artsy, now that has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" he added, his voice filled with humor and a touch of sarcasm.

Aunt May and Uncle Ben exchanged a subtle yet meaningful glance, a shared moment of silent understanding passing between them. 

Taking a deep, synchronized breath, they turned their attention to the woman seated before them, their expressions a mixture of composure and determination.

"Please, don't leave the naming to Peter," Aunt May implored earnestly, her voice carrying a blend of sincerity and pleading. Uncle Ben's words echoed her sentiment as he added, "We're begging you, take charge of that responsibility." 

Gwen's face turned a deep shade of scarlet, her cheeks suffused with embarrassment. She let out a delicate cough, her actions suggesting an attempt to regain her composure. 

With a gentle fan of her hand, she discreetly waved some air towards herself while tugging lightly at her collar.

"Is it just me, or is it getting warm in here?" 

Peter's gaze lingered on the girl comfortably settled on the sofa. She exuded a unique style that caught his attention: a black leather jacket that gave off rockstar vibes was layered over a stunning pink dress. The contrasting combination created a captivating visual contrast.

A delicate pearly necklace adorned her neck, adding a touch of elegance to her attire. His eyes traveled to the belt cinched around her waist, a detail that seemed to draw his attention.

A playful smile curled Peter's lips as his eyes remained fixed on her. With a confident air, he chimed in.

"Must be because I just walked in and brought the sizzle with me."

Gwen responded with a playful roll of her eyes, her tone teasing as she retorted, 

"Oh please, Peter. No one's a fan of a narcissist."

Peter chuckled in response, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. He winked at her and delivered a line that carried a mixture of charm and affection,

 "Well, you're in luck then, because I'm much more absorbed in you."

*Click!* *Click!*

Aunt May's voice carried a note of genuine excitement as she inspected the images on her camera screen. 

Her words were filled with enthusiasm as she exclaimed, "Oh, these have turned out absolutely wonderful!" Her camera had captured a candid moment of Peter and Gwen flirting.

Uncle Ben laughed, his amusement evident as he shared the view of the pictures with Aunt May. 

"Benjamin would get a kick out of seeing these when he's all grown up," he mused, his tone reflecting a mix of fondness and anticipation for the future.

Aunt May shifted her attention, her demeanor taking on a slightly stern tone as she addressed Uncle Ben. Her words were laced with a gentle reprimand.

"Honey, it's not up to us, it's up to Peter and Gwen," she asserted firmly. She then offered her own suggestions with a touch of maternal consideration, "...but I was thinking more along the lines of Daniel... or perhaps Samuel." 

Peter let out a scoff as he observed the exchange between his aunt and uncle, his expression carrying a hint of playful ridicule. Under his breath, he muttered his own opinion from the sidelines with a touch of defiance.

"Definitely not any of those,"

Amidst the ongoing debate over baby names, Gwen took a quiet step closer to Peter. Her touch was gentle as she held his hand, her fingers intertwining with his. Balancing on her tiptoes, she leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered a heartfelt sentiment.

"I've missed you."

Gwen's words carried a softness that resonated with affection and longing, a private moment shared amidst the bustling conversation around them.

A faint but genuine smile tugged at the corners of Peter's lips. His fingers naturally entwined with Gwen's as he held her palm. 

With a gentle squeeze, he murmured softly, his words carrying a touch of warmth.

"I missed you even more,"

Gwen's cheeks tinged with a subtle blush, the warmth of Peter's grip and his words leaving her slightly flustered. 

A contented and euphoric smile spread across her features, her eyes drifting shut as she embraced the moment, etching this precious memory into her heart and mind. 

The presence of Aunt May, Uncle Ben, and Peter in that instant formed a tableau of connection and love that she wanted to cherish forever.

In that very moment, a hint of concern crossed Peter's expression, causing his brow to furrow slightly. His fingers reached out to tenderly touch Gwen's hair, his touch gentle as his fingers delicately brushed through her locks. He noticed the unique cut, shorter on one side yet cascading on the other, and his touch seemed to carry a mixture of curiosity and care.

The style of Gwen's hair, which Peter was now gently touching, bore a striking resemblance to the one she had sported in "Into the Spider-Verse." 

It was the same distinctive hairstyle that she had worn when Miles Morales had accidentally gotten his palm stuck in her hair while attempting to rizz her.

Peter's face suddenly lit up as something clicked in his mind. He looked at Gwen's hair and a sense of realization dawned on him. He did some quick mental calculations and came to an interesting conclusion. He figured out that the events of "No Way Home" and "Into the Spider-Verse" must've been happening at the same time. 

This meant that while he was dealing with his own stuff, Gwen was off having her own adventure. It was like they were two threads woven into the same wild web.

Peter's eyes shuttered for a brief moment, his thoughts veering in a different direction. A half-crazed grin gradually spread across his face, revealing a touch of danger lurking beneath. 

He was not thinking of the canon events or Miguel tearing through space with a spider army behind or any of those stupid things that could easily kill him. 

A single thought lingered on his mind, 

'Miles can try but he will know who she comes home to every night.'

Peter drew Gwen closer to him, his hand encircling her waist. While Gwen felt taken aback by the sudden super duper closeness, she didn't pull away. Instead, she reciprocated by placing her arm around his, allowing her shoulder to nestle against his chest. 

She embraced the newfound intimacy with a relaxed demeanor, basking in the comfort and warmth he provided. A genuine smile adorned her face, reflecting her contentment in that moment.

Aunt May and Uncle Ben had ceased their playful argument, their attention shifting to the affectionate scene unfolding before them. 

A sweet and affectionate smile formed on their visage as they observed the young couple. 

Aunt May's inclination to capture the moment was evident as she raised her camera, but Uncle Ben intervened with a gentle smile, tapping the camera and shaking his head in a silent request. 

Aunt May complied, lowering the camera with a contented expression, clearly not feeling disappointed in the least. 

With a gentle and loving gesture, Uncle Ben's arm drew Aunt May closer, and she willingly settled into his embrace. The duo fixed their eyes on Peter and Gwen and they watched the young couple with a fond, adoring gaze.

With their eyes gently closed, the older couple swayed in a harmonious dance to the rhythm of "Stand by Me" by Ben E. King. Amidst the tranquil melody, a quote resurfaced in Aunt May's memory, one spoken by a certain handsome pig author.

'Some things aren't meant to be captured with a camera but rather with the heart's lens, where memories paint the most vivid pictures. The most beautiful of them all.'

As they swayed, lost in the music and the memories they were creating in that very moment, those words resonated deeply. 

~

I thought the previous chapter would be the perfect end to the volume but this one seems like the better one. Hope y'all enjoyed it. 

Have a good day, night or evening, mes choux... *cough* my dear readers.