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mattsangel · 2 months ago

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𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 (𝒏𝒐𝒕) 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚 | 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉… you slowly start avoiding being home and your boyfriend notices, resulting in an argument.

ballerina!reader x undergroundfighter!matt, angst, crying, cursing, fighting, mention of violence, lowkey toxic matt

2.7k words

“when are you coming home?” , “are you back yet?” , “it’s getting late, where are you?” , the three questions that you heard the most coming from matt. you didn’t know if he was asking them out of genuine concern or just to be the controlling boyfriend he had become, although you tend to think it was the second option. he wasn’t like this when you met him, when you fell in love with him. but the once loving and thoughtful boyfriend that he was had vanished some months ago.

youtube wasn’t paying nearly as much as it used to for matt and his triplet brothers, their prime time was long gone and their audience had moved on to the next big thing, leaving them with no choice but finding a side hustle to get by. while chris and nick had found some decently normal jobs, chris working for a music production company while nick found a photography gig, matt had had a harder time finding a job. nothing seemed fitting enough for him, going from modeling to graphic designing for video games he couldn’t seem to find the right fit for him.

you supported him through the whole process, using your free time between college and rehearsals to help him look at thousands of job offers online. your earnings as a dancer and matt’s savings couldn’t support you guys forever, and you both knew that. it wasn’t long before matt got frustrated and abandoned his quest for work, choosing to go for something a little more easy. and illegal.

on a random friday night a few months ago matt had come home late, with busted knuckles and a slight cut on the top of his lip. he kept insisting that he was fine, to stop asking questions, until he snapped at you to leave him alone and stop being pushy about it. the next day, the two of you got into an argument, then matt finally admitted to have turned to underground fighting at a nearby private club.

you tried your best to reason with him, telling him he didn’t have to put his life on the line to keep you guys afloat with money, that you could manage to get more opportunities for bigger ballet productions and get a better earning or that he could simply find a safer job. he didn’t want to hear any of it though, his decision was final and you couldn’t do anything to change his mind.

at first, matt just seemed exhausted and in pain every time he’d come home. you did your best to try and support him, taking care of him when he got home and doing everything in the house to ease his mind. the more time passed, the more matt came home with an attitude, cursing at you and getting mad at the slightest thing being off, on top of that he had started drinking. his constant yelling and controlling behavior is what drove a ledge between you two, and it wasn’t long until you couldn’t take it anymore.

late night dance practices became an almost daily thing. you did not want to be home. from the moment your classes ended, until late at night you’d be at the dance studio. the older, cold lady that had been teaching you ballet for the better part of your life took a notice in how often you’d stay late, in an empty studio either dancing, rehearsing or doing your homework, pointes, sewing kit and textbooks splattered everywhere across the floor. one night she finally decided to ask you about it, and after explaining to her that things at home haven’t been easy, she took it upon herself to always reserve an empty studio for you to hang out in for as long as you needed. that place easily became your new safe place, and you were barely ever home anymore.

it took matt a lot longer than you wished it would to realize that you weren’t ever really around anymore. it was almost always past ten pm when you’d walk in, careful to not make much noise and tiptoeing to your guys' shared room. you’d put your things down and take a shower, heading straight to bed and avoiding any attempt at small talk that matt would make, knowing it almost always ended with him getting pissed. he was rarely mad at you, but whatever it was that ticked him off, he’d take it out on you. the nights that you were home before him, you’d already be fast asleep when he walked through the door.

for the first few months, he did believe your countless excuses; that you just got more busy on a production, that you stayed at the library late to study for exams, that your instructor made you stay at the studio longer, but the more time passed, the less he believed you.

it was monday night and for the first time in what felt like forever, matt was seated at the kitchen table with two plates of food when you walked in. it took you a minute to process, but when you did look up at his face a sudden gasp left your mouth. his white tee was covered in platters of blood and dirt, his lip was bleeding and a black eye was starting to form on his left eye. he looked worse than you’d ever seen him.

you took a step toward the table, walking slowly not daring to look him in the eye.

matt cleared his throat, “you never answered my text.”

you finally look up, almost shocked that he spoke this softly to you. “sorry, they had me stay a bit longer at the studio”, the lie rolled off your tongue easily.

he nodded slowly, “right”, he paused for a second, “they have you doing this a lot lately.”

you wondered where he was going with this, but chose to answer short, not wanting this conversation to go where all the others before went, “i got a role in a pretty big production, i have to put in a little more work to keep it”. that wasn’t a total lie, you did score a leading role in the swan lake production taking place at the local studio next spring and there was a lot of work to put in.

“you didn’t tell me that”, matt said, “i don’t know why i’m surprised, you never tell me anything anymore”.

a frown takes over your face, “that’s not-”

matt suddenly interrupts you, “it is true. don’t play dumb”, you can tell he’s getting agitated, “you’ve been avoiding being home, or anywhere near me like the plague, y/n.”

you shake your head, not really knowing how to answer because you know that he’s right. you’ve been doing everything in your power to avoid him, not because you don’t love him, but because you don’t love who he’s become. the short-tempered, always angry at everything matt that sat in front of you was not the same matt that you knew and loved. he felt like a stranger.

you chose to sit down in the chair opposite of him, not sure how to approach the conversation that you knew was necessary to have, “i don’t want to argue, matt.”

he huffs, shaking his head lightly, “i just want to know why you’re never home. we haven’t spent time together in months, hell i can’t even remember the last time we fucked, not that it matters.”

you swallow hard. “you’ve changed matt, and i don’t want to blame it all on you but i can’t recognize you anymore,” you let out a shaky breath, tucking some hair behind your ear, “you’re always getting mad, raising your voice at me for no reason. you know i can’t handle the yelling.”

matt looks down at his lap for a split second, “i know i’ve been loosing my temper lately, but this can’t be the only reason why you spend all of your time away,” his blue eyes fixates on you, “is there someone else?”

the gasp that leaves your mouth is loud. you can’t believe that he’d think you’d have met someone else.

“no, god no. there is no one else, i promise matt,” you look up at him, “i can’t bear the constant being mad and fighting. every time i come home, you’re moody and hurt, i can’t handle that.”

you feel the tears start to gather in your eyes, and try to blink them away but there’s no use. you feel your face getting hot and your hands are sweating, this conversation might’ve been needed but it doesn’t mean you’re enjoying it.

“being hurt is part of my job, y/n. i can’t prevent it from happening and i can’t stop fighting,” matt says, his voice raising slightly, “the money is good and i’m doing this for us, you have to understand that.”

this has you getting up from your chair, “don’t put this on us matt. you had a choice, you could’ve worked a normal job, but you chose to put yourself in this position,” you pause, taking a deep breath, “and i don’t care if you make millions, no amount of money is worth your life.”

“i don’t know in what kind of fairytale you think we’re in, but believe it or not, we need money to keep having a roof over our heads and food on the table.” matt is still sitting, in an almost nonchalant matter.

this sets you off, because if there is one person here that is painfully aware of this, its you. within seconds you're out of the kitchen, speed walking towards your guy’s shared bedroom. in a hurry, you grab your baby pink duffel bag from the closet and throw it on the bed. your grabbing whatever clothes you have in sight, as well as your cosmetics bag and your charger. by the time you’re going over to the bathroom to grab more stuff, matt waltzes in.

“what are you even doing with that?” he says looking around at the mess you’re making, grabbing and shoving everything you can fit in your bag.

you spin to face him, your hair whipping him in the chest, “i can’t do this anymore,’ you say brokenly, “i can’t keep watching you get hurt and taking it out on me anymore.”

his face soften slightly, “angel, come on don’t do this,” he reaches towards you but you step back, not feeling strong enough to have him close. “where are you even planning to go, uh?”

tears of rage starts going down your cheeks rapidly, your hands are slightly shaking because he does have a point, you have nowhere to go. your family lives hours away and you wouldn’t know who else to turn to. and he knows it.

“i’ll figure it out.” you let out harshly, pushing past him towards the bathroom.

matt follows in tow, almost desperate to have you stay, “you can’t leave, y/n.”

you keep grabbing things from the vanity, not daring to look at him knowing it’ll make you even more emotional, “why, uh? i can’t keep living like this, i feel like a disturbance in my own house,” you keep going, “everything i say ticks you off, you’re always raising your voice and belittling me.”

at that, he stays silent. “you’re never affectionate with me anymore. you don’t pay attention to me, we don’t even act like a couple anymore.” you wipe your cheeks, “you’re always in pain, i know it’s uncomfortable but you don’t even let me help. you just tell me to leave you alone. it’s killing me, matt.”

“is this really how i make you feel?” matt whispers quietly.

you finally turn to look at him not expecting to see his glassy eyes and a pained expression forming across his face, as if he’s been stabbed in the chest. he’s holding his breath waiting for your answer, already knowing it.

“yes,” you say in a small voice, leaning against the marble counter.

suddenly, matt turns around, muttering a barely audible sorry and leaves. seconds later you hear the front door close and his car speeding out of the driveway. sliding down the wall to the cold tiles of the bathroom, you let out a sob that you didn’t know you were holding.

you stay there for what feels like hours, just sobbing with your face in your hands, still clad in your light pink leotard and a pair of grey joggers, sitting on the cold floor. after a while, exhaustion takes over and you slump over, falling asleep.

you feel yourself getting lifted up, causing you to stir and rub your eyes. “matt?” you ask, visibly confused.

“shh, go back to sleep,” matt says, dropping a kiss on your forehead and setting you on the clean bed and putting the covers over you.

you sit up, “where did you go?” you take a good look at him, he’s definitely not wearing the blood splattered shirt from earlier and his face is cleaned up, making him look a bit less disheveled.

matt sits on the edge of the bed, taking your duffel bag from earlier and putting it on the floor, “i went to see nick and chris. i needed their advice.”

this peaks your interest, “advice on what?”

“on how to make you stay.” he’s looking at you with so much purpose, “i’ll put in the effort, i’ll go back to therapy and learn how to deal with my emotions, but you can’t leave me.”

suddenly it hits you. you see a glimpse of the matt you’ve been missing. the matt you fell in love with.

without leaving you any time to speak, he continues, “i’ve been the worst boyfriend ever lately, but i promise, i’ll keep myself in check and i’ll fix this. just please, give me the chance to do it.”

he hesitantly put his tattooed hand on your thigh, and for the first time in months, you feel relaxed because you know that he meant every word he just said.

“you can’t let it get this bad again matt,” you cover his hand with yours, “love is not easy, we both know it, but you have to let me be there for you.”

he nods fast, “i know. i was just in so much pain, and it made me feel weak because i see you suffer every day, dancing until your feet are bleeding and your ankles ache and you never complain.”

“you can’t compare yourself to me, baby,” you lift yourself on your knees, passing a hand through his dark hair, “and you can’t keep me from taking care of you. that’s what i’m here for.”

he puts a gentle hand on your cheek, caressing it tenderly before speaking up, “i’m so sorry for treating you like this my love. i hate myself for making you feel this awful.”

you lean in, pressing a sweet kiss to his plump lips and leaning back to look into his eyes, “i know you matt. i know this wasn’t intentional.”

“i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” he tugs you onto his lap, hugging you to his chest and letting out a breath of relief.

the two of you stay like this for a while, bathing in each other’s embrace until matt speaks up again, “congrats on that big production, baby.”

a huge smile takes over your face, “you won’t even believe what it is.”

his eyebrows shoot up, “what is it?”

your eyes are sparkling as you tell him that you’ll be performing as the lead in swan lake for all of next spring.

“no way,” he shakes his head, smiling at you like a fool, “this is huge, you’re a star.”

you tackle him onto the bed, smiling and being so happy to have your matt back.

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆; this lowkey sucks, i’m just getting back into writing fics as i was previously writing on wattpad! i really hope you guys like this one, let me know if we want more of ballerina!reader, i love writing her as i am myself a ballet dancer and it feeds my delusions lol. don’t forget to leave some suggestions for either blurbs, headcanons or oneshots in my asks! love you all x

#mattsangel⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo angst #sturniolo x reader

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fuzzyfrizzlefrack · 1 year ago

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Musical nerd here, I’ll cosign that sentiment. As someone who genuinely likes both of these musicals, I entreat people who aren’t familiar with them to give a couple songs from each a listen before discounting either.

For the Broadway lovers who don’t usually watch shows from smaller companies (and yes, Starkid is definitely small potatoes compared to mainstream musical theatre), take a minute to accept that Twisted is a silly (but smart and earnest) lampoon of Disney’s Aladdin and Wicked put on with a shoestring budget. Once your expectations for costumes and set are in the right spot, take a look at Sands of Time/Golden Rule (the Evil Reprise is also good, but unfortunately this video cuts just as we get there).

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Silly? Very. But also a perfect pastiche of 90s Disney musical arrangement and philosophy!

But Twisted isn’t just nostalgia - it pulls off a sweet love story even alongside Starkid’s requisite quota of dick jokes. A Thousand and One Nights is one of my favorite love songs.

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And for the Starkid fans who only know Cats through the recent movie (haven’t seen it, can’t comment) or other pop culture, you have to accept that this is a deeply silly (but well produced) collection of TS Eliot poems set to music with only the loosest semblance of a coherent plot. Check out Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat to see the costumes, makeup, the way they all move - and stick around to see them create a steam engine out of trashcan lids and umbrellas at the end!

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Also for your viewing pleasure, cat-David Bowie singing about his magician boyfriend, Mr. Mistoffelees.

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#I voted for the one I have the most emotional connection with but I’d be fine with the other winning #they have different strengths #Twisted is a romp from start to finish - great music that is a brilliant blend of renaissance era Alan Menken classics and Wicked themes #heartfelt acting (even when - ESPECIALLY when - it’s really stupid)#smart and witty observations about the way we tell stories both in American musical theatre #and in Disney/Pixar animated classics over the last 30-ish years #It’s not particularly impressive with costuming/props/set design (though it’s somewhat intentional and that’s part of its charm)#but the story itself is SO compelling #Cats is a whole different type of musical (I think technically an opera?) with vastly different expectations #the audience is just along for the ride as we meet these incredibly costumed cats with enormous vocal and athletic ability #seeing Cats in person is like a spiritual experience #the music is grand and playful and dramatic #just love it #I lived in Chicago during Twisted’s original run and I am DEVASTATED I wasn’t able to see it in person #but the whole thing is on YT for free #If you haven’t seen one or the other I really encourage people to at least watch one scene from each musical #Even if you’ve already voted #Youtube

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months ago

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twst original soundtrack is up 🎵

It’s available for free on the following platforms (though please be advised they may be region-locked):

Spotify

YouTube Music

Apple Music

Happy listening!!

P.S. Finally, FINALLY we have the full version of Piece of My World by Night Ravens!! With a whole new second verse and everything!! it only took like over 4 years 😭 It’s the final song on the 4th disc.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst news #twisted wonderland news #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven

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honeytonedhottie · 10 months ago

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HONEYS RESOURCE BUNDLE⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💶

a gift from me to you for the new year, to help give tips that can help u succeed 🫶🏽 a post filled with resources, and advice to help u guys improve in every aspect 💗 i love and appreciate u all and i hope u find it helpful.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ physical movement and activity

find something that u like and thats fitted for ur needs. for me, all of the workouts that i do come from youtube. a girlblogger that always has a lot of workouts to try is @4theitgirls-workouts. to motivate urself to move ur body i recommend buying something cute to workout in because it always makes me feel good. i rly like to do pilates, so since i enjoy pilates -> i'll wanna do it more.

so dont be afraid to try different things and see what u enjoy the most and stick with that bcuz u dont wanna be forcing urself to do something that u won't enjoy/that won't give u the results that u want. if working out in general isn't rly ur cup of tea at all, thats totally okay! try going for walks or start running. maybe try out for a sport or start a style of dance. the whole point of this category is to get urself moving bcuz its rly rly good for ur physical and ur mental health, and it'll serve u in the long run. another youtuber i rly recommend for pilates workouts is madeline abeid.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ self improvement youtubers that i love and watch regularly

the wizard liz

simonesquared

sammy ingram

simmonesimmo

hailey gamba

the freezia

persephonesmind

₊˚⊹ ᰔ law of assumption

of course if u wanna learn about and practice the law of assumption then u can learn and apply thru my advice, experiences, ideas and more. neville goddard is like, the guru of manifesting and hes written a bunch of books, here are neville goddard's books online for FREE so that that then u can learn and see it HIS way bcuz the thing with manifesting is u gotta figure out how it works for you cuz its your reality.

if u like subliminals this is my favorite subliminal maker on youtube. their subliminals r amazing and i enjoy them bcuz they dont have music layered onto it (i like subliminals that have soothing sounds like rain or water or anything asmr). last but not least my absolute favorite manifesting coach/teacher on the whole internet, sammy ingram - literally the best manifesting guide. she rly simplifies things and her channel is full of helpful advice, success stories, challenges and her perspective on manifesting is brilliant so i rly recommend her.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ mental health

journalling is honestly the best thing that i have ever done for my mental health, the ROI that i get from it is actually incredible so i highly highly recommend it. if ur someone who doesn't rly like to write a lot, use ur notes app or whatever just get the thoughts out of ur mind and onto a piece of paper/notes. i understand that sometimes when ur mental health isn't doing too well and u dont feel motivated rly to do anything (like u feel lethargic and stuff) forcing urself to do things ISNT always the answer. i rly recommend having alternate routines cuz we ask a lot from ourselves sometimes so some days, ask a little less.

give urself the break that u deserve. when u feel like crying, CRY. even if its for no reason, the body holds onto pent up emotions so when u cry u gotta CRY. with time you'll find the things that help u feel better. for everyone its different. for me, when my mental health is in a slump what helps me is : 1. doing one thing differently (i'll go for a walk maybe) 2. get ready (take a quick shower, or if i dont even have the motivation to do that i'll do a sink shower) 3. drink a cold cup of water and make myself a meal. dont ever have zero days. always give at least 1% or do at least one thing.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ hygiene

hygiene is so instrumental in mental health cuz like i've said before looking good -> feeling good. i make sure to get ready everyday even if im going nowhere. just bcuz the process of getting ready gives me so much momentum. smelling good gives me so much confidence bcuz im the type of person thats rly rly scared of smelling bad. im a hygiene JUNKY so im always buying soaps and fragrances. when u make self care a daily thing it'll feel so natural. dont neglect ur oral health, invest in quality products that are suited for your needs. be meticulous when it comes to ur hygiene cuz a solid routine is lowkey comforting. i rly recommend korean skincare, indian haircare, african body care, and arabic perfumes and fragrances. some of my favorite hygiene based youtube channels are : SARA BEQELE and anna renns world

₊˚⊹ ᰔ school

TAKE. SCHOOL. SERIOUSLY. the feeling that u get when u get a good score on an assignment or test is unmatched. at the end of the day ur responsible for ur education. it's not hot to be a loser. if ur someone who struggles to stay on top of assignments, write down the assignment as soon as its assigned and at the next possible chance do it. as soon as u get home from school. reward urself for good grades and for ur accomplishments cuz ur AMAZING. study effectively instead of excessively.

pursue excellence always. find ways to motivate urself throughout the school day (for me, i always try and incorporate girliness into school cuz that motivates me) all my pens and pencils and folders are pink and i get myself ready everyday before school. cuz when i FEEL good -> i perform well. if u ever dont wanna study remind urself that studying>failing. advocate for urself, dont be afraid to ask questions cuz ur responsible for ur grade if u need accommodations or longer time to take a test (even if u dont) always set urself up to have the most time possible and the most resources. the resources that u have USE THEM. the goal of studying isn't to "mostly" know the material its to know for SURE. when u can explain something thoroughly, thats when you can know if you've studied enough.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ organization + planning

of course for the new year and for life in general, organization is rly helpful. manage urself mindfully and intentionally. even if ur a messy person, organizing isn't difficult if u do it in a way thats right for you. for me, notion - is literally the best organizational tool. i have an agenda, calendars, school pages, and so much more.

with notion i rly organized my life on a whole other level. aside from notion, the notes app on ur phone is rly useful, when it comes to organizing ur day to day life, i think its important bcuz it helps u to maximize ur time. for planning out ur year, if u find it difficult to stay "on task" or achieve the goals that u set for urself, try this : dont see the year as 365 days, instead separate the year into 4 quarters (90 days each) and in each of those quarters choose one aspect to focus on and pour into. make sure to log and track ur progress on those goals. the idea to this is breaking things down. break down big goals -> to more digestible goals so that then its more believable for u. remember, your limitless.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ nutrition

if ur someone who has bad nutrition, or unhealthy eating habits in general and u wanna change that my biggest advice would be to NOT BE EXTREME. bcuz i feel like if u go fully extreme so quickly then the change isn't sustainable. take it slow. start off by introducing a fruit into breakfast and having a vegetable at dinner, then eating fruit with ur breakfast and having fruit as a snack, and eating veggies with lunch and dinner. ik it sounds repetitive and overdone but u need to be consuming ur fruits and veggies. if ur not eating it with ur meals then maybe have it in a smoothie if that works for u. take supplements for things that u dont rly incorporate into ur diet, and the key to a good diet is BALANCE. dont deny urself food that u love. life is WAY to short to be scared to eat the burger that u so desperately want. its okay to eat what ppl might consider "junk food" but everything in BALANCE and moderation. keep the 80/20 principal in ur mind. 80% of what u eat should be good for u and 20% of what u eat should be whatever u crave. DRINK WATER, dont go on extreme diets if ur not an adult and haven't consulted a doctor it does u more harm than good.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ informative

learn every single day. even if ur not in school anymore. a way to help learn and sharpen ur mind every single day is picking up a hobby that can help u do so. for me, the hobby i have is reading, reading keeps my brain sharp, it keeps me entertained, and when i read nonfiction it keeps me informed. so the hobby of reading has a high ROI. whenever u get an idea of any sort, ACT on it. u dont have to wait a billion years before acting on an idea. when u get ideas, its for a reason, ur mind is brilliant and imagine how many ideas that u wasted. thats why i recommend having a creative outlet of some sort. for me, my creative outlet is my blog where i can come and talk with you guys 🫶🏽 but ur creative outlet can be ur notes app or ur journal or ur sketchbook. just a way to get the ideas in ur brain -> onto paper.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ stuff i wish i knew

ur never ever tied down to one version of urself, u can always change ur mind/opinion, u can create a new version of urself whenever the heck u want. remember that u have free will and that ur always in control. bcuz it is your life it revolves around you and it is your responsibility. its not something to mess around with. take responsibility for urself, ur actions, ur reactions etc.

1% of progress is better than 0%, a little is always better than nothing. ur social anxiety or ur fear of being perceived is HOLDING U BACK. forgive urself for ur mistakes, everything that ur embarrassed of in ur past let it go and LET YOURSELF LIVE. become ur own project, ur own muse and if all else fails (which it won't, you'll be fine and everything will work itself out for u even better than u could've ever imagined) love yourself unconditionally.

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dreamingofep · 9 months ago

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A Blue Velvet Crush

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

TW: Cussing, teasing, SMUTTT, fingering

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello everyone! This picture of Elvis lives rent free in my head and I knew when I first saw it, I had to write something for it.

If you've never seen some of this performance, I'd recommend watching! I'll make another post with the youtube link!

Thank you again❤️

Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

Mississippi, September 26th, 1956

Traffic was backed up for miles and the buzz in the air was electrifying. You couldn’t hide your nerves though. You weren’t even supposed to be here today but by the grace of God, you got thrown in the ring and had to cover today’s most important story. Elvis Presley was back in his hometown of Tupelo, Mississippi to perform a charity concert. His rise to fame seemed to happen overnight and everyone was dying to see him in person.

You were just an intern at the Tupelo Mirror and your supervisor that was running the Elvis story got sick this morning. Eric called you at the crack of dawn, frantic that no one was going to be there to take pictures. You had only been at the newspaper for a month and a half, you didn’t want to overstep your role and be too forward, but you mentioned that you have photography experience. You ran your college photography club and were majoring in journalism. You know you can take some decent shots of him. You try to sell yourself, affirming you can do this! The whole reason you were working for the newspaper was to get a better shot of getting a job at a newspaper company after you graduated. You thought this would be the perfect way to gain the experience. And if you got some good pictures of Elvis Presley? That could change your whole life.

You did have a fondness of the man but like, who didn’t at your age? He was the new cool guy who was causing havoc wherever he went. He was talented and had this luring sense about him. You hadn’t ever seen him in person, but based on the few televised appearances he’s made, he was beyond incredible. You knew he had a talent that no one had ever had. Your parents would always make a fuss if you were watching him and tried to make you feel bad for it.

“No Christian boy should be moving like that! It’s abhorrent.” Your parents used to say.

You’d just roll your eyes and grumble under your breath. Your parents didn’t understand that he was something young people could love and be fully immersed in without having to act all prim and proper about it. There was no other artist that would make you feel the way Elvis made his audiences feel. He was passionate and he felt the music to his very soul. It showed so easily he didn’t have to say he loved what he was doing.

And now you were going to be feet away from Elvis, taking his picture and maybe even getting the chance to ask him a few questions. The cars started moving forward more and before you could get through the gates, a police officer stopped you. You rummaged through your satchel and pulled out your press pass. He quickly nodded and directed you to the portion of the lot where other photographers and press reporters were gathered. You quickly find a spot and throw your car in park. You throw your satchel over your head and grab your camera out of its bag. It wasn’t the most high-end camera but it took nice pictures. You double-checked the camera had enough film and quickly made a beeline to the stage.

There were thousands of people here already and the buzz in the air was electric. You saw girls jumping up and down giddy that they were about to see Elvis live. You had some of the men standing next to them with a bored expression on their faces like they didn’t want to be there. You had to play it cool though. You had your press badge on and the last thing you needed was for someone to see you acting giddy when you had to be professional today.

There was a corralled section for the press behind ropes that gave you a bit better access on the side of the stage but it was still very crowded. Not only that, but it was all men here and they were all significantly taller than you. You couldn’t see a damn thing from this area and became worried you weren’t going to be able to get one good photograph of this entire thing!

You try to push and shove your way closer to the front but just get these condescending looks toward you and don’t budge an inch for you. You didn’t expect anything less honestly, the industry was made up of men and wasn’t exactly kind to women entering the workplace. You shake it off, not letting it get to you too much.

The audience starts screaming as the band takes their place on stage. It’s a small band with just a drummer, bassist, and guitar player. They’re all smiles when they hear the crowd go wild for them. Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage though. You want to get the first glimpse of him when he gets on this stage.

The audience continues to grow antsy and an announcer hops on stage. He steps in front of the microphone at center stage and taps it with his finger.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I know you all are very excited to have one of our very own from Tupelo be here today. I need you to give a warm welcome to Elvis Presley.”

The crowd erupts at his name and everyone bursts out in insane excitement. You keep your eyes on the side of the stage and you raise the camera to your face, getting ready for the first shot.

The audience gets louder and you feel the hair on your arms rise. There you see him. He’s dressed in a velvety blue long-sleeve and loose black slacks with his perfect white oxfords. His hair was greased back and looked shiny. He had his guitar on and made his way to the microphone. From this angle, he looked so tall, his legs easily gliding him across the stage.

He carried this nervous energy about him tho. He puts his hand in his pocket and grabs the microphone with the other hand.

Click.

He starts Heartbreak Hotel and drives the place insane. Everyone is screaming and some girls are even crying. His voice rings out flawlessly and once he starts singing, there’s no stopping him. He can’t seem to stand still. Whether it’s the music moving him or the nerves, he is shaking and moving, making the crowd even more insane.

There are times when the screams overpower his voice coming through the microphone. He has an amused look on his face the whole time though. Especially when he swings his hips and makes the girls go bezerk. You catch yourself blushing at those moves, how he can move his hips so easily as he makes these in-passion faces. He made you feel something you’ve never felt before. It was bad, it was lust driving you to keep looking at what he was going to do next. You wanted him to move more to see just how those hips would move in other circumstances…

Click.

Fucking focus.

He wasn’t afraid to get close to his fans. It looked like he really loved them. You could tell he moved his leg just to get them going and have them look there. Or how he’d say a certain word and prolong it all sensually, it drove the place nuts. Even just the way he held the microphone and dragged it along beside him. He commanded that stage by doing the smallest things. Elvis walks slowly to the edge of the stage where dozens of fans reach out their hands for him. He gets close and reaches out his hand too, still singing and never missing a beat.

Click.

You get the side profile of him but you think it’s going to be a great picture when it develops. What you really want is a perfect picture of his face straight onto the camera. That would be a great way to solidify that you are a great photographer and can do this professionally.

Elvis finishes his set and gets rushed off stage into the building behind the arena. You follow the crowd that’s trying to get to him, hoping you can get another picture of him that’s even better than the ones you took. The other photographers aren’t paying any attention to you and push and shove their way through. You huff annoyed, hoping you can get in there before they close the doors.

You find a spot on the side but all the men in here are so much taller and crowding Elvis. You slump by the door, frustrated that you might have ruined your big chance to prove yourself at the newspaper as you haven’t gotten a single shot of his face straight on. You wanted to the perfect shot and it seems your opportunity was wasted.

“Alright everyone it’s time to leave. Elvis won’t be answering any more questions,” a man bellows. Most of the men try to protest but they slowly start to funnel out of the door. You continue to get pushed aside until you’re almost behind the door. You don’t move from behind there because, for a brief second, a devious idea pops into your head.

Just stay here long enough for everyone to leave and ask for a picture when he’s alone.

Your heart pounds away at just the thought of being alone with Elvis but you had to try it. The worst he could say was no and get out.

The last few remaining men shuffle out of the room and Elvis yells out that he’ll be right out. The door shuts closed, making your little hiding spot be exposed in plain sight.

Elvis had his back to the door so he didn’t see you right away. You sighed in relief for that but had to work up the courage to say something to him.

What exactly should you say in this situation? ‘Hi I snuck in your dressing room even though I was told to get out, can I take a few pictures of you for the newspaper?’

You cringed just thinking about it. You took a few deep breaths and straightened out your dress.

“Umm, excuse me, Elvis?” You say sheepishly.

He turns around quickly at the sound of your voice and stares wide-eyed at you. He doesn’t say anything right away and neither do you because seeing him this close and in person is too much.

He is beautiful, in every shape and form, he is beautiful. You’ve never seen such a handsome-looking man before in your life and have no words. Logical thinking went out the window with him and he looks at you with the same expression on his face. You haven’t said more than four words to him but you want him. You want him to look at you and touch you and never stop. Your core flutters at that scandalous thought.

“You scared me there honey. H-how’d you get in here?” He asks with a mischievous grin forming on his face.

“W-w-well I uhhh. Well, I work for the newspaper and I was wondering if I could take a few more pictures of you?” You ask nervously. A long silence fills the room and you are about to turn on your heels and run for the door when he gives you another cheeky smile.

“Sure, I don’t mind at all. What was your name lil’ darlin’?” He asks smoothly.

Lil’ darlin’.

Jesus Christ I’m not going to make it out of here alive with all his charm suffocating me.

“Oh gosh Elvis, thank you so much. This truly means so much to me. And my name is y/n.” You tell him in a hurry. You make sure your camera is on and ready before you look back up at him watching you intently.

“Y/n… that’s very pretty…Where’d you want me, honey?” He coos.

Your heart pounds in your ears and you can’t register anything he just said. All you can do is look at him in shock and can’t believe you’re alone with him. You know how many thousands of girls would kill for a moment like this? And the question he just asked?! Ooh, the sheer audaciousness he has. He knows he's irresistable.

I'd love you to cover me in kisses with those pillowy soft lips...

“Huh?” You say in a daze.

“Where did you wanna take my picture honey? You’re the photographer and all,” he teases. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and you nervously look down at your camera.

“Oh yeah… sorry… I’ve never really done this,” you admit. His eyebrows shoot up surprised, “First time? Wow, that’s somethin’ for a little lady coming here and coverin’ a story on a day like this. The whole town is making a huge fuss over me, I don’t think deserve it, but it’s very special either way. I’ll make sure to give you the best pictures,” he winks. It feels like your heart just about stopped by that one minuscule movement.

Stop that. Stop that right now!

You sweetly smile up at him and move further into the room, trying to see what angle and lighting would be best. The wall behind him was blue and you thought that would be a perfect backdrop to accentuate the velvet shirt he was wearing and his piercing blue eyes.

“Umm, let’s try with you stand there. I think that would be a nice background,” you say.

He casually takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Like this?” He asks. You raise the camera to your face, make sure the frame is straight, and push the button.

Click.

He looked good without even trying. He had this golden aura about him. Like he shined from within. He was remarkable and you know that without saying much else to him. Even if you didn’t like him already, you can see the appeal. He was so easy to love. So easy to be around. Everything about him was inviting and warm. You don’t know how you were going to peel yourself away from him…

“Okay, how about one smiling?” You ask. He nods his head and gives you this cute cheeky smile.

Click.

God help me I can’t breathe with this man around looking this good.

“How are they comin’ out honey?” He asks, his southern inflection on honey making you feel like the actual word.

“Oh, just fine. I think they’re going to be amazing when printed,” you try to say casually.

“Oh good… what are you doin’ working for the newspaper?” He asks, fixing the sides of his hair with a comb.

Click.

“I don’t work for the newspaper, not yet at least. I’m just an intern. I’m a student at the University of Mississippi studying journalism and thought it would help to work there for a bit so when I graduate in two years, I can hopefully get a job at a newspaper,” you explain.

He intently looks at you, interested in everything you have to say, “That’s wonderful honey. I think that’s great you’re pursuing that. I don’t doubt for a second you won’t get a job anywhere you apply for,” he says sweetly. You can’t help but blush at his nice words and fiddle with your camera.

“Thank you, Elvis,” you say quietly. He walks over to the sofa that’s up against the wall and casually takes a seat.

He stretches out one arm along the back of the couch and the other rests on the arm of it. His legs were spread open and your eyes can’t help but stare at them. They were so long and he exuded sensuality, it nearly made you dizzy. He sees how you’re looking at him, intrigued with the man that so many found attractive.

You raise the camera to your eye once again as he looks down the lens intensely.

Click.

You felt like screaming like those girls were earlier. You’ve never felt so attracted to someone’s presence. It kind of scared you in a way.

He moves on the sofa slightly, bringing his hand to his mouth and giving you this luring, sultry gaze.

Oh lord, I’m a dead woman…

Click.

He doesn’t change this pose after the flash goes off, he continues to sit there with his eyes drinking you in. Your body can’t take this, the tension in the room is palpable and you are seriously considering running out now since you have plenty of good shots. Elvis slowly starts to lower his hand from his mouth and you see he was biting his lip behind it this whole time. He slowly drags his teeth across it before letting it go with a pop.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He asks softly.

You can’t hide your flushed cheeks anymore and lower the camera from your face to see if he’s being serious. His eyes look heavy and somber, but he cracks a little grin to lighten the mood.

“Oh, no… not something I normally hear,” you say insecurely.

“That’s a shame darlin’, you really are. You have the most gorgeous smile, beautiful eyes, and the longest legs I’ve ever seen,” he gushes.

I’m dead. I’ve gone to heaven and died. This can’t be happening!

“Well thank you very much. I could say the same for you,” you say coyly.

His eyebrows raise at the blunt remark and chuckles softly to himself. He lowers his hand off the back of the sofa and places it on the empty space beside him, looking at it, then looking back up at you. He doesn’t need to say another word, he pulls you in without trying.

You carefully place your camera on the table and take your bag off your shoulder. You make your way to sit beside him as your heart gallops like a racing horse.

He turns his body a bit to face you more and being this close to him is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You have to hold your breath or he might notice how nervous you are.

“No guy back home telling’ you how pretty you are hmm?” He says, tucking back stands of hair behind your ear. All you can do is shake your head no. His fingertips barely graze the lobe of your ear but it makes you feel weak anyway. The arousal dripping from your core is not helping the situation and not letting you think clearly.

“Oh, well I’m sorry men are so blind over there. I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he quips, giving you a cheeky smile. “The most pretty eyes, the most pretty nose, the most pretty pink lips I’ve ever seen,” he coos, leaning in closer until you can feel his breath on your lips.

You can’t take it anymore and lean in, devouring his lips with yours. You let out a deep breath as your mouth touched his, his lips feeling softer than you could have ever possibly imagined. He was so gentle with his kiss, making sure he wasn’t overstepping your boundaries. But you didn’t care about that. You screamed for more from him. More kisses, more long heated stares, more everything.

You boldly, place your hand on his bicep, pulling yourself closer to him. He responds to your touch and you can tell he likes it. His crushed velvet shirt felt nice underneath your fingertips and felt his toned arms. He places his hand on your cheek, pulling you in with more urgency. You feel breathless, loving the way his skin makes yours feel like it’s on fire.

Elvis softly pulls away, not before biting your bottom lip and letting a sigh slip out of his mouth.

“Those lips darlin’, I could kiss them all day,” he mutters, his eyes heavy with lust.

“What’s stopping you?” You whimper. He grins and pulls you in once more.

You can’t believe any of this is real. The way he is kissing you should not feel so good and yet it does. You put both of your hands on his chest, pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt. His hands start to roam along your back, feeling the curve of it and how well this dress fits you. Every inch of you wants his hands placed lower. Right at the spot that is yearning for friction from those perfect hands.

He starts to drag one of his hands to your hip, squeezing there then down the top of your thigh. Need coursed through you and you couldn’t help but open your legs a tad bit. You’re not sure if he noticed, but he let out a pleased hum as he kissed you with more intensity.

You needed to feel him. You needed to feel how soft his skin would be when it’s pressed against yours. Your hand sneaks into his shirt and feel the coarse little chest hairs he had there. You were right, his skin felt perfect and it only made you crave more. You snake your hand lower and onto the top of his thigh. You make the same movements he’s doing to you and you feel his body melt at your touch.

You move your hand a bit lower and go to caress the inside part of his thigh and you freeze.

“Oh…” you moan into his mouth.

What you felt underneath your fingertips made you cry in need of him. Dear God, he was blessed in more ways than one. He was so much longer than you expected and it made your heart leap out of your chest. His cock was warm and fully hard in his pants as your fingertips slowly start to rub against him. You pull away from his lips and have to look at what your hand is feeling.

You were going to die and see the pearly gates if you tried to have that inside of you. But God you didn’t care, you wanted him so bad. You’ve never wanted a man like this in your entire life. Looking up at Elvis, he looks calm and collected, still giving you a heated stare. He looks down at your hand, then back up to you with an innocent look about him.

“You like what you feel baby?” He asks low. You take a deep breath before answering him.

“Y-yes. Yes, I do…” you say softly, your hand moving along him more. He lets out a pleased groan and adjusts his hips slightly, liking the feeling of your touch on him.

“Do you want more? Do you want to feel what it’s like inside of you?” He coos, leaning in for a soft kiss that leaves you dizzy. Your breathing felt erratic and the ache you had in your core only worsened.

“Yes please Elvis… please,” you beg. He smirks at you and kisses your neck, sending a shock of electricity through you.

“Can I see what you’re wearin’ underneath this pretty dress honey?” He asks you. You nod your head and his fingers find the zipper of your dress easily. He slowly pulls it down and pulls down the fabric off the front of your body. You help him slip you out of your dress and sit there with your white bra and panties left on. He lets out a pleased little groan as he sees you sitting there, trembling with need. He gently touches your exposed skin, leaving little goosebumps behind. He touches your breasts gently, biting his lip as both of his hands cup them and start to play with your nipples through the fabric of your bra. You can’t help but lean into his touch loving every second of this.

He places a soft kiss on top of your breast as he reaches around and unclips your bra. He quickly puts one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks on it, groaning as he does so. Your back arches into his mouth, craving so much more from him. His other hand roams your body but only focuses on the top half of you. Your core was dripping with arousal and aching to be touched by those long fingers. You guide one hand between your legs and have him put pressure there.

You gasp instantly, his touch feeling better than you could have imagined but also realize you’ve soaked through your panties. He takes his mouth off of you and pulls away to look down at his hand.

“Fuck honey, how long have you been soaked like this?” He grumbles, his two fingers sliding up and down through your covered folds and creating the most delicious friction.

“Since I saw you moving on that stage,” you admit weakly.

He chuckles softly, “Oh honey, why didn’t you tell me sooner… this pussy just weepin’ for me?” He asks as his fingers slide the elastic of your panties to the side and expose your leaking core to him.

“Yes,” you moan. He nods his head and slowly pushes a finger inside of you. You both groan together, filling you so nicely. Your hips rock into his hand, needing everything he can give you.

You throw your head back as he adds another finger inside of you.

“Elvis,” you moan, your chest heaving for more. He watches you intently, liking how on edge you are for him. His fingers twist and curl inside of you and you gasp for air. He likes what he’s doing and can’t get enough got you either.

“You feel so nice and wet baby. Can I give you my cock now?” He asks.

“Please, I want you Elvis, please give it to me,” you beg, reaching for his belt and unfastening it. He pulls down your panties and you lift your hips to help him get them off. You then work on the button of his pants and slide down the zipper. He lifts his hips up too to take them off and you watch as his cock comes out. Oh God, you were weak by just looking at it. His pink tip was peeking out from his foreskin and clear precum started to dribble down his length. His hand wraps around his length and spreads some of that slickness around the tip of him, moving his hand up and down slowly. You look back into his intense eyes and don’t know what to say.

“You want to ride me, honey?” He asks. The look on your face must have shown the apprehension you had thinking about taking him like that. He rubs his thumb along your cheek and smirks at you.

“It’ll feel so good baby. You’re so wet for me, you’re going to cover my cock in your sweet honey and make us feel so good,” he groans as you watch him swirl his thumb around the tip of his cock. A pent-up moan escapes your lips and quickly straddle his hips, needing him more than ever.

He rubs his length through your folds, covering him in your arousal and making you both moan with the sensation. You hold onto his shoulders and press kisses to his cheek. You feel him line himself up to your entrance and hold your hips. Elvis looks up at you with need and his eyes are begging you to have him. You felt the heat of him pressed there against your entrance and you can’t wait any longer. You start to sink down on his impressive length, moaning as you take the first few inches. He felt so good, filling you so completely and stretching out your tight entrance. He throws his head back onto the couch and groans as you take him, squeezing your hips tightly.

The sounds he makes when he’s getting pleased goes straight to your head. You love the way he groans as you move slowly on him. You never knew you could be so attracted to the sound of a man getting pleased. You take more of him inside you and cry out his name, overwhelmed it can be feeling this good.

“You feel so good, honey. You like how my cock feels inside you?” He groans into your ear. You gasp as his hips move up into you, stuffing more of his length inside of you.

“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you cry out.

You move faster on him, wanting more of him and feeling your walls fluttering each second. His eyes watch how your breasts bounce as you’re riding him, drunk at the very sight of you. You close your eyes, overwhelmed with all the sensations he’s giving you and those eyes only make it worse and worse.

Your hips grind at the base of his cock and you both whimper. Your clit rubs at the base of him and you feel your walls start to clench around him. You ride him harder, chasing the high of your orgasm. You look back into his eyes, desperate for him to help you.

“E-Elvis… oh please,” you beg.

“Come darlin’, I wanna feel you come for me,” he groans as he snaps his hips into you, causing his cock to get deeper inside you.

You whimper in agony, not being able to hold on much longer. His hands are back on your hips and help you move more. Your breathing is ragged and your vision is blurry, you thrust a few more times on him and you feel your body shudder hard. Your walls squeeze around his length and cry out his name like he’s your saving grace. He groans with you, loving how good you feel around him. He helps you rock your hips into him more, making you come more than you ever have in your life. Your head feels dizzy and your body feels like it’s floating. You never knew a man could make you feel this good.

You keep riding him and don’t want to stop. He was still making these sinful sounds that sent a pulse straight to your pussy as you hear him getting pleased by you. He bites his lower lip as he stares at you, beaded sweat gathering at his temples and his breathing becoming more frantic.

“Ah, honey you feel so damn good. I need to come now,” he says gruffly. He picks you up off of him and has you stand in between his open legs. He grabs his cock in his hand once more and starts to jerk himself off, staring at you with need. You wanted to touch him again, feel the warmth of his length fill your hand. You boldly get on your knees and take his hand off of himself. You wrap your small hand around him and his eyes roll back in his head. Your wetness covered his length and made it easy to move your hand on him. You angle his length toward your chest and he bucks his forward and falls apart. His seed comes out in thick, hot, spurts and lands on your chest. He groans loudly and cusses under his breath with each stroke of your hand.

“Oh yes honey, yes,” he moans.

He’s trying to calm down and regain his normal breathing but your thumb continues to tease his extra sensitive head. He groans in agony, loving and hating how you’re playing with him.

“God honey I-I-I ain’t never felt so good,” he sighs. “Come here,” he says opening his arms to you.

You get up and sit on his thigh, your spilling arousal making a mess on him. You wince when you feel the wetness spread on him and look up at him with an innocent smile.

“Sucha messy lil’ girl hmm?” He teases.

“Mhmm, you’re quite messy too,” you quip, looking down at your chest with him covering it.

He laughs amused, “Well, you felt too good what can I say,” he says cutely, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I had to say thank you in some way for letting me take some pictures of you,” you say shyly.

“Oh, you didn’t need to, but I’m so thankful you did,” he winks.

You kiss each other more, reveling in this moment together, not wanting it to end so soon. But you knew he had other places to be, you couldn’t keep him in here forever.

“I don’t want to keep you from your day. The whole town is so happy you’re here,” you smile.

“Thanks, honey. It’s nice to be celebrated in sucha nice way,” he says caressing your face, “but this might have been my favorite thing I got today.” He says cutely.

“And what’s that?” You ask smartly.

“You, my new favorite reporter.”

Tagging:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @loving-elvis @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.@myradiaz@tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy

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@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

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donamori · 3 months ago

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Please indulge me to speak at length about Don Quixote (post Warp Express Intervello)

Unfortunately, this will be riddled with spoilers, however, I'm not necessarily making this post to make any real predictions. I'm mostly just collecting my thoughts, crafting some theories, and talking at length about my thoughts on the upcoming canto, their possible themes, and to gush and wail about my most favoritest sinner ever. If you've finished Murder on the Warp Train then feel free to continue

Alright, end of the most recent Intervello, it was revealed (much to my surprise at least) that Don Quixote, our pride and joy and ever most excellent knight-errant, is in fact a Bloodfiend. A bloodfiend who apparently has their true form suppressed by Rocinante, the shoes Don wears that are named after the steed Don Quixote rides upon in the book.

This new reveal has millions of possibilities forming in my head for the upcoming Canto and here's the gist of what I've kind of formed and gathered from what we know so far in the world of Limbus and Project Moon as a whole, what I personally know about Miguel De Cervantes and his works, and the general thematic ties that are now unfurling within my noggin that I'm trying to spool together in this nice little indulgent post.

Let's start with Miguel De Cervantes:

For those who may not know, Cervantes is the author of Don Quixote, born in 1547, died in 1616. A few important tidbits that I think will be important in the upcoming Canto-

youtube

Something that has been known for awhile is that Don's battle sprite does not list her name as Don Quixote but as Miguel. For awhile now I had been wondering if within Don Quixote's Canto we are going to receive some sort of reveal that Don Quixote is actually Miguel De Cervantes. Originally the basis of this theory I had was a quote from Cervantes about how "[he] would not exist without Don Quixote." (Something that was expanded upon in a lecture about Cervantes and Don Quixote that I found on youtube). In fact a large portion of that lecture, which I will link here, contributed to this idea I had built up in my head about the relationship between Miguel and Don.

What this essentially culminates to in my mind is that the Bloodfiend will reveal that they are Miguel, but for some reason or another, they "became" Don Quixote. So, in many loose adaptions of Don Quixote, this connection is typically made. In my personal favorite adaption, The Man of La Mancha, a musical about the book, they present the story of Don Quixote as a play for prisoners after Miguel Cervantes himself is arrested. And who is the man that plays Don? None other than Cervantes himself!

(you should really give it a watch, it's a lovely musical)

Now, within the book of Don Quixote itself, our titular hero sadly perishes at the end. He loses to the Knight of the Mirror (who is actually the Bachelor Sanson Carrasco, a man hired by Don's family to bring him home) and returns home. He then dies in his bed after renouncing the name of Don Quixote and all of his adventures. Saying with much seriousness that he is not Don Quixote, but Alonso Quijana. He leaves money to Sancho and his estate to his niece and then soon passes (after a heartfelt appeal from Sancho to return to adventuring together once more.)

After his death, the book ends with the author who is detailing Don Quixote's history writing this final paragraph-

"For me alone was Don Quixote born, and I for him; it was his to act, mine to write; we two together make but one, notwithstanding and in spite of that pretended Tordesillesque writer who has ventured or would venture with his great, coarse, ill-trimmed ostrich quill to write the achievements of my valiant knight... And I shall remain satisfied, and proud to have been the first who has ever enjoyed the fruit of his writings as fully as he could desire; for my desire has been no other than to deliver over to the detestation of mankind the false and foolish tales of the books of chivalry, which, thanks to that of my true Don Quixote, are even now tottering, and doubtless doomed to fall for ever. Farewell.”

I've paraphrased it a bit, but you get the gist. While the author detailing Don Quixote's history is a fictional author made up by Cervantes, I believe it is a cheeky way of Cervantes to insert himself in the story and express his true feelings here.

Now, with Cervantes and Donqui being one and the same I believe the strong thematic thread tying this all together is one of dreams. It's now known to us this whole time that Don Quixote is in fact, both dream and dreamer. The monster that Don Quixote is sleeps while they allow for their true self to live, ever dreaming. But now that Dream is Ending.

I think we're going to see the 'death' of Don Quixote and some sort of joining of Miguel and Don. I think Miguel wants to keep dreaming. They are a bloodfiend, a horrible monster, one of the more powerful beings that are mentioned in Project Moon's games. But i think that Miguel doesn't want that. I think that Miguel wants to be cured. Something that has never really been done for a bloodfiend, an impossible dream, perhaps?

I think in Don's Canto we're going to see what we see within the book. Miguel/Don's family trying to get him to come back, to stop him, to get him to give up on this silly dream of Knight-Errantry. And I believe Dante will finally be able to help Miguel take the first steps towards realizing this impossible dream.

Some small little thoughts that I've had that i think push this a bit further.

Don Quixote was written by Miguel when he was 50 while he was in prison.

I've been wondering now whether this cell we see Donqui in within her base ego was actually some sort of representation of this. Don Quixote was born while Miguel was locked away. This looming shadow of Rocinante keeping the Sangre De Sancho locked away within this small starry-eyed girl <3

Nothing that I really have any like, evidence for, but based on vibes I think representing the specific sort of Spaniard from this time period as some sort of high class vampire is excellent and really fits thematically as well.

Cervantes has a bunch of quotes about the nature of oneself and death (bloodfiends are undead). Some that I think are quite fitting are :

“A Man Without Honor is Worse than Dead.”

“Take my advice and live for a long, long time. Because the maddest thing a man can do in this life is to let himself die.”

“I know who I am and who I may be, if I choose.”

“When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender dreams — this may be madness. Too much sanity may be madness — and maddest of all: to see life as it is, and not as it should be!”

and finally, to conclude this,

“All I know is that while I’m asleep, I’m never afraid, and I have no hopes, no struggles, no glories — and bless the man who invented sleep, a cloak over all human thought, food that drives away hunger, water that banishes thirst, fire that heats up cold, chill that moderates passion, and, finally, universal currency with which all things can be bought, weight and balance that brings the shepherd and the king, the fool and the wise, to the same level. There’s only one bad thing about sleep, as far as I’ve ever heard, and that is that it resembles death, since there’s very little difference between a sleeping man and a corpse.”

If you read this whole thing, thank you for indulging me. I greatly appreciate it.

#don quixote #don quixote lcb #limbus company #project moon #Youtube

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dapg-otmebytheballs · 9 months ago

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All or Nothing and lowave records

Strap in because this is gonna be a long one. This post will try to shed some light on how the whole lowave records thing works, how you can use this music, how it is being distributed, and what all a contract with lowave would include. All this and more below the cut!

Let us start with the basics: What is lowave records?

Quite succinctly summed up on their website as follows:

They make and distribute royalty-free music for content creators - specifically video-format content creators like Youtubers and streamers - they share some streaming revenue (30%, we'll get into that) with the creators who are labelled 'co-artists' and get promotion of their music through the content creators.

So, that brings us to the next big question: What is royalty-free music?

This is music that is free to use. Yes, by anyone, by Dan and Phil, by other creators, by you and me, any of us. This is by no means a new thing of course, anyone who has created content online would have come across other such services. just as an example, bensound.com hosts a large library of royalty-free music which you can use in any video by simply crediting the site in your description. Lowave works in a similar fashion. The music is not copyrighted. However, the rights to the music are held by lowave records and there are limitations on its use, which we will get into ahead.

How is the money working (preliminary edition)?

I will add details to this later when I discuss the contract, but let's see the info we get straight away from the FAQs: You do not have to pay them anything to make music for you

The money is coming in from the streaming platforms, depends completely on amount of streams, and is shared between lowave and the creators

Also from the FAQs: how can this music be used?

Anyone can freely use any of the music from lowave records, which means that yes, you can use any music from All or Nothing for your purposes with credit, it will not be taken down

Is this the only music we will hear on dapg now? Will there be more albums?

Not necessarily! This isn't an exclusive deal, DnP can use any music they want on the channel. As for new albums, seems like it depends on how this one does (and it seems to be doing quite well!) which will unlock future avenues for more collabs with lowave

Okay BASICS DONE if you're still reading you're probably here for the real meat so let us get into it

How is the money working (director's cut)?

Let us start with the terms on the partner agreement:

Content Creators get 30% of the 'remaining income'. This basically means any costs that streaming platforms are deducting, any processing fees, taxes etc will be deducted before the 30% share is calculated. The second point there basically means that the deductions here do not include business expenses of the label itself, ie when the label calculates its own profit production costs and various other expenses are deducted from the income, but these costs will not affect the revenue received by the content creators (You are probably already thinking 'how is this company earning enough to keep going?' and I will touch on that later as well)

Payment installments are simple enough but here we see a third party enter the chat: DistroKid. Who is DistroKid and why are payments going through them, Hazel? I hear you ask. Well I'll tell you dear readers:

It is basically a service that takes a yearly fee for putting your music on streaming platforms efficiently and then pockets 0% of the royalties. The royalties go from the streaming services (eg Spotify) to DistroKid who then send it to the rights-holders (in this case, lowave records). lowave records is using this service for a yearly fee to upload all their music through.

But wait! If DistroKid is working with lowave, and lowave owns all the rights, why is DistroKid making direct payments to the content creators?

Well, over the years they have offered a bunch of services:

I am guessing lowave is making use of the teams feature to send royalties owed to content creators ("collaborators") directly from Diskworld, which makes sense, the less people money goes through the less chances of mishandling.

People have of course been talking about what percentage Spotify even pays for many many years. The short answer: we don't know for sure because it is confidential, Spotify won't tell and artists aren't allowed to. The longer answer: people have estimated from a bunch of publically available data that the share seems to be 70-30 (rights-holders- spotify).

However spotify is not paying per stream anymore so that makes these figures harder to pin down. they are using a 'streamshare' system which is much more convoluted:

That was all about the money, now let's talk Licensing

Creators can use this music in any capacity, and do not have to share any of the revenue from their own content with lowave. They have put a stipulation that it may not be used in a way that is "illegal, immoral, discriminatory or derogatory to [lowave]" but what constitutes 'immoral' and 'discriminatory' is not really defined.

The other limitation applies to the contracted Content Creators only as far as I can tell: they are not allowed to remix, sample, or edit these songs without prior permission. This probably only applies to altering the songs and playing under the same name, so fan remixes should not run into issues here, as long as they are not monetised. (thanks kate @goldenpinof for making me think about this part a bit more, I think it should be safe, but even royalty free music cannot be transformed without permission at least in a commercial capacity)

They will also make more music free of cost if the streaming targets they set are being met by the albums produced. The process:

Other services they provide will be handling the creator's account which they set up (DanAndPhilBeats in this case) on streaming platforms and making changes as required, so the Cheeky Banter -> Project X thing was probably done from their end, possibly an older change that they forgot to update?

Also below are promotional obligations:

The promotion wasn't a one-time thing, it is expected to be ongoing, so we will probably be hearing about this in future videos as well. However, later in the partner agreement it is added that this has to be done as often as possible in a way that is "natural and appealing to their audience" which again, is pretty vague wording

Also the licensing goes both ways, so lowave can also use segments of the content DnP make that has the music in the background to promote their music:

Additional stuff from the contract:

lowave takes the guarantee of creating original works that it has the rights to and which do not infringe on copyrights, and the creators likewise take the guarantee not use the songs in content which infringes copyright. If there are any disputes regarding such infringement in the future the record and the creators have to back each other up (including sharing legal fees)

I mentioned before some parts of the agreement being written in vague language. There is also a clause that says if any provision ends up being illegal/not possible to enforce by a court (eg if a court were to it's impossible to say whether content featuring the songs was 'immoral') then only that provision will be removed, the rest of the contract stands.

The waiver part basically means that if any of the parties decide to not sue or forgo a complaint about breach of contract, that does not mean that those provisions are now unavailable, they can still sue later on or for some other breach if they wish.

That's the contracts done. Some of the framing there makes it seem to me like it's a pretty small company. The revenue they hope to generate does not seem to be very sustainable, especially since the revenue is being shared with content creators but the cost is not and they are additionally paying for other services like DistroKid.

So I looked more into this record label: they started business in 2022. If you go to their socials though, twitter and instagram they have followers in double digits and post very sparsely. Their tiktok seems to have nothing on it at all (thanks @lesbiandanhowell for the screenshot) and you may have noticed, Dan did not tag the lowave account at all when he announced the album on twitter

The agreement never mentions creators promoting lowave's social channels or tagging them either (and it is quite odd, I have worked with a bunch of organisations in their infancy and this is, now more than ever, a common requirement from collaborators). lowave records does not seem to be actively working towards promoting themselves on social media or building an online presence, even though they have been operational two years producing music throughout.

There are three people involved with the company on public record:

Benjamin Johnson listed as 'Head of Production' is probably the 'Ben' Dan has been talking about who made the songs. Seems like their scale of operations is not very big and possibly not a lot of producers in the records at all (despite the spotify page saying they have 'producers' plural, but that doesn't have to mean a lot many lol). Anyway, that would solve the mystery of 'how are they playing their employees?' if there aren't many employees to begin with (not even an intern to manage their social media it seems).

Look at the last person in the screenshots though: Robin. I looked at what other companies Robin is associated with and several of them - yeah several different operations that he's involved in - have the same correspondence address of '60 Thorpe Road...', so probably operating out of a ghost office (just to have a registered address and receive mail at etc). And one of these businesses that Robin is associated with is RWD, the business that made lowave records' website for them:

The no-cost production of royalty-free music, little attention to social media presence, vaguely written contract, seemingly small scale of operations with technical assistance like website design coming from an affiliated organisation makes me think that lowave records might be a side project. A labour of love, possibly, hoping to sustain itself enough to keep putting out royalty-free music in a time of extreme crackdown on copyrighted music use.

It makes sense to use content creators for promotion, gets you way more streaming than making your own music and putting it out. And the incentive of unique but guaranteed royalty free music at no cost is great for content creators of all sizes. It is far from sustainable on its own though, especially with streaming revenue being basically peanuts, and I do not think there's much interest in gaining a following or putting in that effort either, so it's probably a very small business by a few people. How long it manages to sustain itself as a project I am not sure, but it certainly isn't looking like something particularly geared towards profit and growth in its current state.

We are at an end! If you read this far, leave me like an A+ or a star for my essay so I can have academic validation from this please. Of course I probably have not covered everything possible in connection to this so if anyone has more info feel free to add on! And if this was all very long and there's something particular you wanted to know you can drop an ask into the inbox about it!

Thank you for coming with me on this journey! Back to the important things, which was your favourite song from the album? I think mine is Arcade Admission

#dnp #dan and phil #dnpgames #dan and phil games #meta #?#all or nothing #lowave records #dan howell #phil lester

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spidergrysn · 6 months ago

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Spider!Mark origins: Mark Lee x Reader

cw: part one of many, spider! mark, kinda sorta in the mcu????!? just a bit, haechan and reader are siblings, slight violence, sloww burn, fluffy, silly banter, EVENTUAL SMUT (none in this chapter) dorky mark lee.

wc: 7.7k🕷️

ISSUE #1: MARK’s ORIGINS. 🕷️🕸️

ISSUE #2 : THE MAKING OF HERO 🕷️

Annoyed was an understatement.

All his life, Mark had been constantly on the move. It felt like he was never going to have the chance to settle down and be a semi-normal person. From living in Canada to South Korea and now to the US, it seemed like there was no point in getting attached to anyone or anything because, just like before, he was more than likely going to endure some type of change. Mark for one wasn’t unfamiliar with change.

His youth had been filled with broken promises, loneliness, and distractions. There were three things in this world that Mark Lee loved more than his aunt and uncle Park: quantum physics, engineering, and music.

Despite the constant upheaval in his life, these passions had remained constant, serving as his anchor in the storm of his ever so changing life. Whether he was studying the intricacies of the universe, tinkering with gadgets and gizmos, or losing himself in the melodies of his favorite r&b songs, Mark found solace in the world of science and creativity.

But even with adoration for his interests, Mark couldn't help but long for stability. He yearned for a place to call home, a community where he belonged, and people who understood him. Yet, each time he packed up his bags to go to yet another house in another city in another place he knew this was nothing more than a distant hope.

That being said, these passions were the only things that seemed to get Mark through the days. There was something about listening to R&B music and testing major theories of famous physicists in his ever-changing bedroom that kept him grounded. So that’s what he did. After moving to different cities in Canada, Korea, and finally the US, he decided to start uploading videos to the internet.

Now, he didn’t show his face, but his videos featured him making different technological devices while simultaneously playing old R&B music in the background. It was some weird niche thing that he adored. Sure, Mark had garnered 100 subscribers, and sure, some of them may have been weird YouTube bots. But when you thought about it, if you put that many people in one room, it would be a whole lot. Sure, his account didn’t get much attention, but the few comments he’d get on his videos made his day. It made him feel like he had “friends.

Recently, he had uploaded a video explaining his view of quantum theory while Aaliyah's smooth voice filled the background. After a couple of hours, he received a notification from a subscriber who usually commented a lot. They had chatted a few times in his YouTube comments, and Mark had learned that he was a physics professor at MidTown university a college in New York which just so happened to be not too far from where Mark was currently living.

Today’s comment was a bit different though as he reads it, Mark could feel his eyes widen, absorbing every word the professor had to say. He had told Mark that there was an upcoming science expo happening at the school. It was free for all and would be a good way to learn new things. Reading this excitedly Mark, he immediately liked the comment before going to his Safari to search the event, and sure enough, it was there: "30th Mid-Town Science Union Expo" on September 3rd. Finally, something Mark had to be excited for. For the next week, that’s all Mark could think of, and his mood had noticeably changed, prompting his auntie to take notice, thinking that Mark had finally made some friends or, dare she say it, a girlfriend, which Mark waved off, saying it was nothing.

As the days passed, Mark found himself eagerly counting down to the expo, his mind buzzing with anticipation. It felt like a rare opportunity to immerse himself in a world of science and innovation, surrounded by like-minded individuals who shared his exact same passion. And as he continued to upload videos to his channel, the thought of attending the expo filled him with a renewed sense of purpose and excitement.

Finally, the day had come. Mark wore a corny math t-shirt that said “find x,” some blue jeans, and his annoying circular prescription glasses that his auntie always nagged him about, making sure he was wearing them at all times or his vision would only get worse.

His body bounced with anticipation as, Mark exited their small house and strolled down the street, making his way to the train station. Ear to ear, he stood on the subway train like an absolute loser, feeling his heart beating against his chest as the train made its stop. He slipped through the other passengers before breaking into a small jog up to the campus. Signs pointing to the event adorned the lawn as Mark made his way there.

He took a few turns before coming upon a gym. He opened the door and was met with a sea of people and all kinds of experiments and technologies. He stood in awe, just observing everything around him. For the next couple of hours, he walked up and down the aisles, taking pictures and listening carefully to all the presenters. He was observing a particularly cool machine when he was interrupted by someone on a microphone.

“Hello, I need everyone’s attention right now! Experiment #127 has gone missing, and we need everyone to quickly exit the gym be sure to check your bodies and under your shoes to make sure it didn’t bite you. If you’ve been bitten, please reach out to me. It’s very, ah, fatal,” the man in the lab coat announced urgently.

Mark looked up at the man, his heart pounding in his chest, as he watched all hell break loose. People were running into each other, things were being broken, and it was absolute chaos. Mark felt himself being shoved out of the way as he made his way towards the exit. Finally, after a few minutes of pushing and shoving, he was able to make it out, out of breath but relieved to have escaped the hell inside.

As darkness covered the streets, Mark walked home his shoulders slumped, annoyance bubbling within him as he muttered to himself. Of course, the one time he decided to go out, it would get ruined. As he walked, he couldn't shake the feeling of something on his neck. Out of instinct, thinking it was some type of mosquito, he swatted at his neck, feeling the bug squish under his hand.

“Ew, dude, so gross," he muttered to himself, looking at his hand. Mark's eyes widened as he noticed that the bug had eight crooked legs and big, beady eyes. It was definitely not a mosquito. He swatted, wiping his hand his on pants before , exclaiming how there was no way that could be the spider from earlier.

Trying to brush it off as some kind of coincidence, Mark kept walking only to feel his skin start to tingle, his body goes cold but he simply dismissed it as paranoia. Taking a few more steps, he felt his legs turn to jelly, his eyes getting heavy, and he started to feel disoriented before everything turned black.

•

"Is he dead?"

"No, Y/n, he isn’t dead. His leg just twitched."

"I don’t know, Hyuckie, sometimes dead people twitch."

"HOW CAN SOMEONE TWITCH IF THEY'RE DEAD-"

"OH SHOOT, HE'S MOVING! IS HE A ZOMBIE?"

"Y/N, HE'S NOT DEAD, HEADASS."

Mark's head absolutely ached, and the voices he heard were not helping at all. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing his head. By now, it was morning, and the sun was shining onto him. His glasses were somehow still on his face, but his vision was blurred. With ease, Mark took off his glasses and gasped at the sudden clarity. He could see everything, including the two people in front of him.

They both looked about his age. The boy had dark brown hair and an annoyed look plastered on his face, as if passed-out Mark was some kind of inconvenience. Next to him was a girl, a bit shorter than him, with h/c hair, and a surprised yet curious expression on her face.

"Ah, where the hell am I?" Mark hoarsely asks as he looked between the two. The two exchanged a look of concern before carefully helping Mark onto his feet.

"We found you passed out on the side of the street this morning on our way to a friend’s house, so my sister here thought we should check to make sure you weren’t dead," the boy explained.

Mark rubbed his eyes before cursing, pulling out his phone to see numerous frantic texts and missed phone calls from his aunt and uncle.

"SHIT, they're gonna kill me," Mark muttered, running his hand through his hair. "I've got to go," he said, about to leave. The girl protested, "BUT WAIT, DON'T GO! WHAT IF YOU'RE HU--" And before she could finish her sentence, the boy was already sprinting back home.

"This is what you get for trying to help someone," the boy, Haechan, teased his sister as she rolled her eyes, and they headed to their destination.

•

Mark ran home as fast as he could, his heart pounding out of his chest. He reached the front door and before he could touch the handle, it flew open, revealing his distressed aunt. Her face went from sadness to relief to anger in a matter of seconds as she opened her mouth to reprimand him.

"Lee Minhyung, where in the hell were you?" his aunt demanded, hitting him on the back of the neck, the exact place where he had gotten bitten. Mark winced, but then a thought struck him. Why wasn't he dead? He had passed out from that spider bite that that one professor said to be fatal.. how was Mark still alive?. His thoughts were interrupted as his auntie embraced him, hugging him tightly.

"Please don't do that again, Mark. You scared me and your uncle half to death. I know we've been moving a lot, but I swear this is the last time. I'm sorry if that was upsetting you," she pleaded.Mark enclosed his arms around his aunt, apologizing for his disappearance. He was relieved that his auntie didn’t question it anymore, just happy for him to be back.

"Oh and, Mark,please shower. I love you, but you stink," his auntie teased. Mark lightly laughed before heading into the house , going straight to his room, grabbing some spare clothes, and going to the bathroom. He turned on the hot water and got in the shower, letting out a sigh of relief at how relaxing it felt. As he scrubbed his shampoo-filled hair, he tried to recall everything that had happened – the science fair, walking home, the spider bite, the two weirdos – but nothing inbetween the bite and waking up came to mind.

He turned off the shower, wrapping his body in a towel before heading to his room. Shutting the door, he sat on his bed and looked in the mirror, noticing something different. His body looked completely transformed. Mark wasn't out of shape before, just a bit skinny, but now he could barely recognize himself. His whole body was toned, his arms looked like he lifted weights every day.

"What the actual fuck is going on?" Mark muttered to himself, completely confused. First, he passed out, then he couldn't see with his glasses, and now he was built like a character from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure."Minhyung, I made dinner," his aunt's voice rang from the kitchen, snapping Mark out of his thoughts. He quickly got dressed and joined her at the table.

"I made Jajangmyeon," his aunt said, gesturing to the food.

"Ah, thank you, Auntie, I appreciate it," Mark nodded, smiling as she took a seat and began to pray.

“Hey, Mark, I see you're back from your little adventure. I told you, Jen, the man just needed some time to himself," his uncle said, entering the room. He clasped Mark's shoulder as his aunt rolled her eyes and told him to clean up and join them.

As Mark dug into the delicious meal, he couldn't help but notice his auntie and uncle looking at him in awe as he managed to eat five, going on six bowls.

"Who are you and what did you do with my nephew? his auntie chuckles as mark ravenously ate. Mark pauses his eating laughing quietly and shrugging, but he couldn’t help thinking again… what in the hell was wrong with him.”

•

As Mark settled back into his daily routine, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Strange changes were occurring within him. His senses seemed sharper, his reflexes quicker. Initially, he attributed it to the adrenaline rush from the spider venom clearing out of his system, but as more days passed, he began to realize there was something going on with his body he just didn’t know what.

Like a couple days ago he found his phone quite literally sticking to his hand like glue. Another time, as his auntie was about to drop something, and he experienced a weird tingling sensation, and with lightning-fast reflexes, he managed to catch it before it hit the ground. And then there was the odd incident when he dropped something, and as he thrust out his wrists to catch it, he noticed a sticky white fluid oozing from his wrists.

All these thing led Mark to a startling conclusion: either he was going through puberty again, which compared to the things happening to him did not seem highly unlikely, or that spider bite had changed him. It had altered him into some kind of superhuman freak, and Mark struggled to weigh that in his head.

Night after night, Mark found himself hunched over his computer, scouring the web for any clue that could shed light on his newfound abilities. Hours turned into days as he delved into articles and videos, hoping for a breakthrough, only to be met with frustration and defeat. With a heavy sigh, he ran his hands through his hair in frustration before defeatedly turning off his computer and chucking his notebook full of possibilities at the wall. His exhaustion was taking over and he decided to tackle this spider shit tomorrow.

As Saturday morning arrived,Mark found himself awake earlier than usual. The cool breeze whispered through the open window, beckoning him outside. Needing to clear his head a bit , he quietly slipped out of the house, not wanting to disturb his sleeping auntie and uncle. The streets were quiet, the wind was cool, and it was the perfect time for a morning jog.

As Mark pounded the pavement, his thoughts swirled with uncertainty. The rhythmic thud of his footsteps and the steady beat of his music provided a temporary escape, allowing him to clear his mind. He looks at his watch seeing that it was somehow 1 pm… he has been running for a little over 6 hours and hadn’t even worked up much of a sweat.

“What the actual hell is going on.” he groans to himself as he decides to take a break from jogging and try and find something to eat. Weirdly enough , as he was walking down the street a strange sensation washed over him—a familiar tingling that prickled his skin and made the hairs on his arms stand on end. With a frown, he removed his headphones, tuning in to the sounds of the city awakening around him.

Ahead, in a dimly lit alley, Mark heard voices—a commotion that was almost inviting him to come in. Peering around the corner, he spotted a group of men surrounding a lone girl backpack. Their menacing words echoed off the walls as they demanded her belongings."Come on, Stark, no one is here to save you. Hand over your stuff, and nobody gets hurt," one of the men taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

Mark's heart raced as he watched the scene unfold, his mind racing to place where he had seen the girl before. There was something familiar about her, something that tugged at the edges of his memory, but he couldn't quite grasp it. With a surge of adrenaline, Mark knew he couldn't stand idly by. He put his hoodie over his head concealing his face and took a big deep breath. This was his moment to step into the unknown, to test the limits of his newfound powers, and to help someone out.

"And why should I? If you want money so bad, get a JOB... J-O-B. Do you need me to spell 'application' out for you too?" The girl retorted, a hint of amusement in her voice, before one of the guys grabbed her collar.

Without a second thought, Mark sprang into action. With newfound agility and strength, he swiftly removed the robber from the girl's grasp and stood between them, a dorky determined expression on his face as he kept his face down not wanting his identity to be seen by robbers.

"Uh, I wouldn't be doing that if I were you," Mark said, attempting to deepen his voice, though he couldn't help but cringe inwardly at how it came out.

"Oh my God, who is this loser?" the man scoffed, joined by his two lackeys in mocking laughter.

Mark's heart sank at their taunts, but he steadied himself. "Alright, captain save-a-hoe over here. What exactly will you do to me, loser?" the man sneered, before Mark's fist connected with his jaw, sending him crashing into a pile of trash cans.

"Holy shit, that kid is strong," the other two men exclaimed, abandoning their unconscious companion and fleeing the scene.

Rubbing his barely aching hand, Mark turned to the girl. "Oh, hey... you're welcome for saving you," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Uh, thanks, I guess," she replied awkwardly, eyeing him with a mixture of surprise and skepticism. "I totally was handling it on my own, but, uh, yeah, sure, thanks."

Mark felt a pang of disappointment. He had hoped to be hailed as a hero, not dismissed like he some kind of nuisance. "Sorry, it just looked like you needed help—"

"I didn't. I could've handled it on my own," the girl interjected firmly, before turning to walk away.

Mark sighed, preparing to leave, when he heard her voice again. "Wait, I know you... you're the boy from a few weeks ago, I found passed out." She comes up to him taking his hoodie off, she had gotten a small glance at him when he had bolted in the alley.

And then it clicked—Mark remembered her. "Yeah, that was me. Uh, thank you for helping me that day. I was in such a rush, I wasn't thinking," he admitted sheepishly.

"No worries, consider us even," she said with a soft giggle, extending her hand. "I'm Stark, Y/n Stark."

Mark's eyes widened in surprise. "L-like Stark Industries?" he stammered. Although He had just moved to the US, he would be a fool to not know who Tony Stark was, the billionaire superhero with a niche for technology. The name was practically synonymous with heroism and technological advancements.

Y/n rolled her eyes, clearly used to this reaction. "Yes, like Stark Industries. Usually people say their name when they introduce themselves, but yeah," she replied sarcastically.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I'm Mark, Mark Lee," he replied, feeling a bit flustered as he shook her hand.

"Jesus, your grip is strong as hell. Do you lift or something?" Y/n remarked, her eyebrows raised in surprise as she looks from Mark to her attacker that laid knocked out on top of some trashcans.

Mark chuckled nervously, his heart racing as he hesitantly agreed, earning a laugh from the girl beside him. "So, uh, why were those guys giving you a hard time?" he asked, hoping to keep the conversation going.

The girl rolled her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Hmm, let me guess. Maybe the fact that my father is a billionaire and one of America's most annoying men on the planet, who knows," she replied sarcastically, her tone laced with slight annoyance.

Mark sheepishly scratched his neck, nodding in understanding. "Uh Can I walk you home or something?" he blurted out, surprising himself with his boldness.

The girl giggled, giving him a small nod. As they walked side by side, Mark listened intently as Y/n told him about her life—her school, her dad, her step-brother Haechan. She spoke with pride about the things in her life, and Mark couldn't help but admire her confidence.

"What about you? I've talked so much about myself, I forgot to even ask you anything," Y/n said, her voice light with laughter.

Mark stumbled over a few awkward "ums" before launching into a tangent about his own life—constantly moving, living with his overprotective auntie and careless uncle, and the fact that he had never had any close friends.

Y/n listened attentively, offering encouraging nods and murmurs of understanding. "Well, you know what, Mark? Consider us friends," she declared, extending her hand in a gesture of truce.

Mark hesitantly shook her hand, feeling a rush of warmth at the simple gesture. She squeezed his hand before announcing that they had arrived at her home.

"Wow, it's really—" Mark began, but Y/n cut him off with a knowing smirk.

"Big, huge, expensive, amazing, and awesome. Thank you. It was a high school graduation gift. This is what happens when you graduate top of your class and your dad is loaded," she finished, her laughter filling the air.

As they reached a gate, Mark watched intently as Y/n tentatively punched in a number. "So, I'll see you around," he trailed off, feeling a sense of reluctance to leave.

"That you will," Y/n replied, her smile radiant. Mark swore her eyes sparkled a bit in the light.

"Thank you, Mark," she said, hurrying through the gate and waving goodbye. Mark waved before walking back home a bit awe struck at the encounter.

•

"Hey, Hyuck," the girl greeted, her hand pushing open the huge door to the sprawling mansion. "And Jeno... and Jaemin and Renjun," she added, spotting her brother's best friends lounging on the plush couch, engrossed in some sort of fighting video game.

"Hey, Y/N," they chorused in unison, their attention briefly diverted before returning back to their game.

"Hate to ruin the fun and all, but Hyuck, can I talk to you?" Y/N asked, her smile carrying a hint of suspicion.

"Yeah, sure," Haechan replied, casting a curious glance at his sister, waiting for her to speak.

"Ahem, ALONEEEE," Y/N insisted, emphasizing the word.

"Ugh, fine," he grumbled, rising from the couch and following Y/N into an empty room. Y/n closes the door behind him as he urges her to speak.

"Okay, well, I almost got mugged today," Y/N confessed weirdly calm.

"AGAIN??? What have I told you about leaving the house without keeping a communicational tracking device? Also Haechan scolded, his irritation all over his face.

“Also you know how to fight i don’t know why you never use that.”

"Ugh that’s so annoying and heavy plus Find my iPhone works just as well, and my dear brother violence is never the answer ," Y/N replied, scratching her neck.

Haechan rolls his eyes at her reply knowing she was full of shit.

"Aht anyways , key word though: ALMOST... I got saved," she continued, a spark of excitement in her eyes.

"Okay, so what's so crazy about that?" Haechan sighed, already bracing himself for another wild story from his sister.

"You know the really cute weird guy we found tweaking on the sidewalk one morning on our way to class?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with even more excitement.

"Yes..." Haechan replied cautiously, raising an eyebrow in anticipation.

"Get this: he's the one that saved me," Y/N revealed, her words hanging in the air, begging for a reaction.

Haechan's eyebrow shot up even higher, his interest piqued. "Okay, but this time he was strong as hell, some kind of superhuman strength, I swear to God. And he dropped in at the perfect time, it was crazy."

"I know exactly where this is going, Y/N," Haechan interrupted.

"Just hear me out, Hyuck," Y/N pleaded, her excitement bubbling over once again.

"I think we should tell Dad about this. It was a bit strange, and I don't know, I think he's some kind of mutant or superhuman guy thingy for sure," Y/N suggested, her mind racing with possibilities.

"Don't you think before you tell Tony, you should get, like, some proof? He could just be really strong, and you know, we did find him on the side of the road. It could be Crack. I heard Crack make people hella strong at times," Haechan reasoned, his tone tinged with skepticism.

Y/N shot her brother a withering glare as her eye twitched in annoyance. "We live in a world full of actual superheroes. Our uncle is a big radioactive green man, and you think this boy is on CRACK ," she said, her frustration evident.

Haechan shrugged indifferently before turning to walk off. "You know how Tony is. Get proof that this guy is some sort of superhuman, and then you can tell them."

"So you're saying I should pull a Joe Goldberg and follow him around," Y/N muttered sarcastically under her breath as Haechan walked away to join his friends.

“Not exactly what I meant, but if that gets you your info, then be my guest," Haechan called back over his shoulder before disappearing into the living room area.

"Asshole, so much for his help," Y/N muttered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief as she retreated to her room to devise a plan. She was determined to uncover the truth about the mysterious boy who had come to her rescue.

•

As the middle of September came, Mark finally felt like he had some peace in his life. Despite that spider bite giving him these wacky powers, things were good. He was starting up at a private college soon meaning, he finally had a chance to make friends and enjoy being in school for a longer period of time. Although he moved a lot, Mark always made sure to stay on top of his grades and work, and he was so smart that when moving down to New York, he was offered a scholarship at one of the top high-class private colleges. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't slightly excited. His auntie and uncle were doing well and were in good health, and things actually felt normal.

Or at least, normalish. His days were fine, but his nights were filled with endless research. "Radioactive spiders," "superhuman," "mutants" were all over his Google search history. His notebook was filled with pages upon pages of his abilities and his discoveries. Mark would be lying if he said he didn't sneak out his window a few times to stop some petty crimes, dressed in all black and a raggedy Halloween mask to conceal his face.

But despite his newfound abilities and the excitement of starting college, Mark couldn't shake the feeling of something missing. He missed the chance encounter with Y/n, the girl who had saved him and intrigued him all at once. He found himself thinking about her more often than he cared to admit, wondering where she was and if he would ever see her again. But for now, he had to focus on not embarrassing himself on this first day of school keep his nighttime escapades under wraps. After all, being a superhero wasn't exactly part of his college plans.

•

The sun crept through the curtains, casting a soft glow into Mark's room as his Auntie Park flicked on the light switch, breaking the peaceful morning silence. "Why is it that you’re finally an adult, and I still have to wake you up early for school like you’re 8?" she chided, her voice warm yet tinged with annoyance, before kissing Mark on his head and leaving his room.

Mark groaned, his eyes still heavy with sleep as he rubbed them, reluctantly pulling himself out of bed to start his day. The cozy warmth of his blankets calling for him to stay in bed as he stretched, his muscles protesting the early hour. With a seep sigh, he shuffled over to his closet, grabbing his school uniform he received at his orientation. He was slightly confused that at his big age he’d be wearing a uniform to college, but he wrote it off as something that rich people probably did. He shrugged the thought off as he hastily got dressed, adjusting his tie carefully.

Rushing to the bathroom, Mark brushed his teeth and splashed his face with water aka his sorry excuse of a skin care routine. Drying his face he scurries to put on his shoes-all the while Grabbing a piece of toast from the kitchen, Mark quickly pecked his auntie on the cheek, telling her he’ll see her later before dashing out the door to catch his train to school.

The train ride calming, soft murmurs and the rhythmic hum of the engine, punctuated by the occasional screech of brakes as it slowed to a stop caused Mark to relax a bit. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting with the music pouring through his headphones.

Stepping off the train, Mark found himself immersed in the early morning bustle of the city streets, the cool morning air hit him as he made his way towards the big gates of his prestigious private school. Cobblestones lined the walkway, while vibrant flowers danced in the gentle breeze,

The stained-glass windows of the school caught the early sunlight, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the ground below. Each pane was a reminded Mark of attending church early in the morning with his Auntie and Uncle as a Kid. Mark paused, momentarily lost in the thought , before finally tearing his gaze away to enter the new school .

Inside, the air was alive with the energy of rowdy students and bustling footsteps, students mingling in clusters as they navigated the long hallway. With a deep breath, he pushed forward, his footsteps echoing against the polished floors as he walked to his first class of the day.

Opening the door, Mark was greeted by the warm smile of his teacher as the bell chimed signaling everyone to get to their classes. The teacher greets the class before asking Mark to stay in front of the class to introduce himself.

Mark swayed a bit clenching his jaw as he stood in front of a sea of people wearing red and blue.

his eyes were glued straight ahead as he introduced himself, he adjusts his uniform cuffs as he nervously speaks up.

The classroom hummed with the anticipation as Mark nervously stood before his classmates, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat. "Yo.. uh hi, my name is Mark," he began, his voice betraying him as he cleared his throat. "I'm from Canada, and then I moved to Korea for a bit, and they're both a bit different from New York." His words spilled out in a rush, the syllables tumbling over one another as he struggled to find his footing in this unfamiliar environment. "Uh, I live with my aunt and uncle, and, uhm, yeah, that's about it," he concluded with a nervous laugh, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he scratched the back of his head.

The teacher nodded encouragingly, gesturing for Mark to take a seat as the other students shifted in their chairs, their curious gazes following his every move. Mark offered a quick bow in gratitude before hurrying to his desk, his mind focused on how he just embarrassed himself. "Way to go, Mark," he chided himself, rubbing his temples wishing he could get rid of the awkwardness in the air from his introduction. With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus as the teacher launched into a lesson on chemical matter, the words washing over him in a blur of scientific nonsense .

Mark began to take notes on the board, plugging his earbuds in as he begins his assignment. Everyone else’s focus is interrupted by the entrance of a late classmate.

The door swung open as a girl stood in the doorway, her uniform askew and her hair gathered into some weird crossover of a ponytail and a bun, she gives the teacher a toothy smile and a sorry as she tries to catch her breath.

The teacher's annoyed sigh filled the room as He sternly gaze at the girl. "Miss Y/n, this is the third time you've been late this week… and it’s only Wednesday,"He said, his tone full of annoyance.

Y/n's eyes widened with remorse as she profusely apologized , her words tumbling out scattered . "I know, I've just been getting caught up with other things," she explained, her voice trailing off as she met the teacher's unwavering gaze. With a weary sigh, the teacher issued a final warning, threatening to involve Y/n's father if her punctuality did not improve. Defeated, Y/n slunk to the back of the classroom, sinking into an empty desk next to the new boy, her expression a mixture of annoyance and frustration .

As Mark’s head nodded to the beat of his headphones, he felt a subtle shift in the air beside him. Sensing someone's presence, he instinctively unplugged his headphones, his gaze locking with y/n's, whose eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected encounter.

"Mark?" she exclaimed, a hint of disbelief painting her voice as she struggled to contain her excitement at the random meeting.

"Oh, Wow yo y/n, hey," Mark replied, equally taken aback by their chance encounter. The coincidence of the girl that’s he’s been thinking about going to the same school as him made his heart pitter-patter.

"You're stalking me or something, tiger?" y/n teased, a playful smirk gracing her lips as she watched Mark's face flush with embarrassment at the nickname.

"N-no, no, no, it's just—" Mark stuttered, his words faltering as y/n interrupted him with a soft laugh, her amusement evident in the twinkle of her eyes.

"I'm just messing with you, but seriously, what brings you here—to a small private college in New York?" y/n inquired, her curiosity piqued as she observed Mark with a raised eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over him inquisitively.

"Last time I checked, you aren't a spoiled rich kid whose family buys everything for them. You also just look really out of place," she added, a playful grin dancing on her lips as Mark chuckled nervously and explained the circumstances of his scholarship.

"Wow, so you're much smarter than you look. Good to know," y/n remarked teasingly, the corners of her mouth quirking up in a mischievous smile as they shared a lighthearted moment.

As the lesson resumed, Mark and y/n launched into small talk, their conversation flowing effortlessly, their laughter mingling with the hum of the classroom. Despite their initial awkwardness at their first meeting , Mark couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and familiarity in y/n's presence, as if they were old friends catching up after a long absence. And as they went deeper in conversation, the world outside faded into the background, leaving only the two of them, lost in their convo.

•

As the teacher's lesson drew to a close, the classroom gradually began to stir signaling the end of the class. Mark watched as his classmates gathered their belongings, their movements synchronized as the excited the class. The teacher's voice rose above the all the movement , emphasizing the importance of an upcoming assignment deadline.

Mark didn’t even hear a word he said his attention was suddenly diverted by the presence of y/n, standing just a few steps behind him. Surprise flickered across his features as he turned to face her, his curiosity piqued by what she’s about to ask him.

"What class do you have next?" she asks, her voice cheery as ever.

Mark blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback by the question. "Uh, this is my lunch period," he replied, trying to remember .

A smile tugged at the corners of y/n's lips as she met his gaze. "It's mine too," she revealed, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Mark nodded in acknowledgment, a sense of relief washing over him at the fact that he didnt have to sit by himself at lunch. "Uhh maybe, we can go together then," he suggested, his words punctuated by a slight stutter.

Y/n's smile widened at his response, her excitement contagious as she grabs his wrist. “Uh isn’t the lunch room, this way?” Mark asks gesturing down a hallway as y/n looks at him like he’s crazy.

“Absolutely not," she declared, her tone laced with determination. "Let's take my car and go off campus."

Mark's brow furrowed in confusion, no way he goes to a school like this and the food is bad.

"Is the food bad or something?" he asked curious fabout how quickly she’s ready to leave

Y/n shook her head, a playful glint in her eye. "No, the food is fine," she reassured him. "It's just... it's loud and there are too many people. I prefer to eat out."

Mark nodded in understanding, his curiosity giving way to intrigue as he followed y/n's lead, allowing her to guide him out of the classroom and into the bustling parking lot beyond.

As they made their way across the asphalt parking lot, y/n's steps quickened with purpose, leading them to a vibrant red 1990 Acura parked nearby. Mark's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the vintage vehicle, its classic design standing in stark contrast to the sleek sports cars that dotted the parking lot.

"Nice ride, huh?" y/n remarked, her gaze seeking Mark's approval.

Mark nodded in agreement, his admiration evident as he took in the car's well-maintained exterior. "Yeah, it's pretty cool," he conceded, a smile gracing his lips as y/n unlocked the car, signaling him to get in the passenger seat.

As y/n settled into the driver's seat, she reached over to fasten her seatbelt, adjusting her mirrors as the car roared to life. Mark watched her with interest, noting the way her delicate fingers navigated the controls of her phone, he quickly looks away when he thinks he might be staring too hard.

"Do you like SZA?" she asks, her eyes flicking to meet his as she pulled out of the parking lot, the slow beat of the music filling the car with its infectious rhythm.

Mark's face lit up with excitement at the mention of the artist. "I do, I really love music in general," he replied, his voice oozing with enthusiasm as he settled into his seat. As the melody enveloped them, he found himself humming along, his voice blending seamlessly with the rich tones of the song.

Y/n's smile widened at his response, "Oh really now, that's super cool," she remarked, her gaze softening as she focused on the road ahead. "I love music as well. I'm not a singer—I can't hold a single note—but I appreciate the beauty of it."

The next twenty minutes passed in a blur of laughter and song recommendations, the car filled with the sounds of their shared enthusiasm. As y/n drove through the busy winding roads, , their conversation flowed effortlessly as they delved deeper into each other's lives.

Eventually, y/n pulled up to a gate, her hand entering a code before the gate swung open, granting them access to the sprawling estate Mark had seen before.

Y/n parks the car, and motions Mark to follow her as she stepped out of the car, her footsteps echoing against the polished marble of the driveway. As they made their way towards the entrance.

As they reached the door, y/n fumbled a bit with the buttons, her fingers tapping eagerly against the keypad until the lock clicked open, revealing the warm glow of the entrance, only to be met with the sight of her brother and his friends sprawled out on the couch, their attention fixed on the tv and a greasy pizza box balanced on the coffee table.

"Why are you guys skipping class?" y/n demanded, her hands planted firmly on her hips as she looked the scene before her. Her brother and his friends exchanged sheepish grins, their laughter echoing through the room.

"Free period," Jeno replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, his gaze meeting y/n's with a hint of mischief.

"We can ask you the same thing, missy," Jaemin chimed in, a sassy smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Aht, it's my lunch period," y/n retorted, her tone laced with playful defiance as she stepped further into the room, her eyes scanning the faces of her brother's friends. Spotting Mark hovering awkwardly by the doorway, she motioned for him to join her.

"This is Mark," she introduced, her voice warm as she gestured towards him. "Mark, this is Jaemin, Jeno, and Renjun. You've met Haechan."

Mark nodded politely, a small smile playing at his lips as he exchanged greetings with y/n's brother and his friends.

"Anyways, I'm gonna warm us up some food, and we can sit in my room," y/n announced, her trying to contain her excitement as she moved towards the kitchen. But before she could finish her sentence, Haechan interjected with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Not so fast, someone is in the office right now, and if he realizes you're home without saying anything to him, he's gonna be pissed," he teased, a grin spreading across his face as y/n groaned in frustration.

But before y/n could protest, Haechan's expression shifted, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he turned to Mark with a devilish grin.

"Come here, Mark. Have you ever wanted to meet Tony Stark?" he asked, his voice tinged with excitement as he beckoned Mark closer.

•

"Are you serious? Really?" Mark asked, his eyes widening in surprise at Haechan's revelation.

"No, sorry, I was kidding. You should've seen the look on y'alls faces! I couldn't resist," Haechan chuckled mischievously, dodging a playful swipe from y/n as she scolded him.

"You're so annoying, Hyuck," she groaned in mock exasperation before turning to Mark with an apologetic smile. "Come on, Mark, let's go."

Mark followed y/n down a hallway, the sounds of laughter and chatter fading behind them as they ascended a staircase. They made a few turns before arriving at a door, y/n swinging it open arms wide.

"Welcome to my humble abode," she announced, gesturing grandly at the cozy space beyond.

"Humble, really? Your room is as big as my whole house," Mark chuckled, his eyes roaming over the aesthetically pleasing decor that adorned the walls and windowsills. Lush green plants added a touch of nature to the space, while a plush rug sprawled across the floor invited relaxation. Bean bag chairs beckoned from one corner, while a large bed occupied another, and y/n's impressive PC setup commanded all of Mark’s attention.

"Take off your shoes and make yourself at home," y/n insisted, gesturing for Mark to get comfortable.

"I'm gonna go warm us up some leftover pasta from this really good place down the street," she continued, flashing Mark a bright smile before darting downstairs. Moments later, she returned, balancing two steaming plates of pasta in her hands.

•

The two of them sat comfortably on y/n's floor, plates of pasta in hand, both glued to some random video that y/n had put on.

"You know, Mark, I have a question," y/n began, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"What's up?" Mark replied, a mouthful of food momentarily slowing his response.

"You know a few weeks ago when you saved me?" y/n asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

Mark's hesitation was evident as he replied, "Uh-huh..."

"Did that have anything to do with you passing out on the sidewalk and having that big-ass spider bite on you?" y/n pressed, her gaze fixed intently on him.

Mark's attempt at denial was feeble. "Uhhh, no, what? Why? Nooo," he stammered, his words failing to convince her.

"Uhh, what spider? How do you know it's a spider? It could be a totally different bite, like mosquitoes," Mark blurted out, his voice laced with nervousness.

y/n looked at him deadpan before bursting into laughter. "Oh, Mark, I'm not stupid! You got bitten by something, and it gave you powers. AKA, that spider that got loose at that science expo."

Mark's eyes widened in disbelief. "Uhhh, how did you know that?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

y/n simply shrugged. "I did a little research," she replied casually. "You were found a few blocks from a college that later announced to, uhh, let's say 'higher ups' that a dangerous spider got loose. And then you just so happened to step in and beat those assholes up when I was in trouble."

Mark's shock was evident as y/n continued. "Oh, and let's not forget your nightly crusades," she added, watching as different emotions flitted across Mark's face.

"You wanna know how I know, Mark?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.Mark nodded, eager to hear her explanation.

"Okay, well, the news has been saying lately that petty crime rates have been down, and those assailants all end up somehow wrapped in webs? Crazy, right?" y/n chuckled, observing Mark's reaction.

"Also, I didn't know if that was exactly you, but your face confirms my suspicions," she said, giggling.

"I... I don't know what to say," Mark admitted, feeling a bit unnerved by y/n's deduction.

"The only thing I want you to say is yes," y/n said, her eyes locking onto his.

"Yes?" Mark asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"Yes," y/n affirmed. "Mark, let me train you. Let me be your brains of operation. Let me turn you into a real superhero."

Mark tilted his head at her, a bit hesitant. After a moment of contemplation, he uttered a confident, "Yes!"

•

WOAHH i am so tired LOL!!! hope you guys enjoyed i love me someee spider man mark lee!!! idk mark and peter parker just have so many cute dorky similarities i love it. a few things im gonna say

-Mark is spider-man in this Au there is no peter parker

-His Aunt and Uncles last names are Park a little reference to Peter’s Aunt May and Ben Parker

-reader & haechan are half siblings that grew up together aka tony stark is a man whore!

anyways second part will be up soon :)!! i’m turning 20 in a few days so it may not update for a minute!!!! also thank you guys for really loving challengers 🤗💞💞

#mark lee #nct 127 #mark lee nct #nct dream #mark lee reader #nct fluff #mark lee fluff #mark lee spider man #mark fluff #mark lee smut #nct au #nct scenarios #nct fic #nct imagines #nct smut

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