#yeet reveal

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

oh god i just remembered a dream i had last night where i somehow won a phannie sweepstakes that i didn’t sign up for and the prize was dan and phil staying at my house for two days.

the first night, i was going to sleep on my bedroom floor. i hadn’t seen them yet, so i wasn’t even 100% sure the phweepstakes was legit. but just as i was going to sleep, i looked up, and there they were.

dan was in my laundry room (which is right across the hall from my bedroom), doing my laundry (most unrealistic part of the dream, but as he fucking should). and phil? phil was standing like he was in this picture:

just🧍🏼but with a face more like slime!phil:

mixed with the energy of his reaction to dan saying superstitions aren’t real:

so basically, this is what i saw:

(that’s the actual view of my laundry room from my bedroom floor)

so i made eye contact with phil, which was a huge mistake. he started stomping towards me, slowly but with really intense stomps, like it was hard for him to move. dan turned around momentarily and then seemed to realise what phil was about to do, and without reacting, turned back to my laundry.

phil was getting closer, and i knew i was in trouble. as quickly as i could, i pulled out my phone to snap a picture for proof that they were in my house, because i always have dreams within dreams that i saw dan and phil and then would wake up still within the dream and have no proof. i managed to capture two shaky pictures before phil reached me and everything went black.

then i woke up (still in my dream) in a room i didn’t recognise. my mom was in the bed next to me. “mom, where did dan and phil go?!?!”

she looked at me confused. “what are you talking about?”

i didn’t answer her, i just asked, “where’s my phone?” my hands were shaking, i knew in that moment that at least part of it had been a dream, but i also felt deep within me that it really happened. i just needed the picture to show her, so she’d believe me.

i found my phone and unlocked it. with shaking hands, i went to my camera roll and clicked on the first picture.

the picture did show my laundry room, but dan and phil weren’t in it. there was, however, a blurry shape in the center. my mom assumed that it was just because the picture was bad quality, but i knew. i knew it was phil. and i knew that no one would ever believe me, that i would have to live with the truth for the rest of my life.

a bunch of other shit happened not related to dnp before i actually woke up for real, but that’s not what’s important.

what’s important is this: do not EVER let phil lester into your house. if he does manage to get in though, PROMISE me, whatever you do, you won’t look him in the eyes.

definitely let dan in though. he’ll do your laundry.

[psalacanthea]

when you realize your deconstruction of a genre is actually kind of mean-spirited and you need to look inward for a while before continuing

[jerrykinoff]

Tommy Cash at Amiri SS23

[haasdaagen]

On this episode of EIOYI garrett frickin dies

[theodora14pines]

What crimes did they commit? If I were to tell, the sentence can worsen. Based on the trend below, I drew Mirai Gohan and Theo.

[thetimelordbatgirl]

RTD stop playing with the emotions like this-

[alex-frostwalker]

My cousin has this...

YEEET

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

i wanna note something btw

i played a few characters in isbs on custom mode or practice mode in english to get the voicelines yesterday

a few notes:

-haze is very similar to rozzi in that she’s very judgemental and thinks most things are a waste of time

-rozzi despises school. DISTINCTLY. if you enter school she pulls out the one-liners. luckily it’s in the wiki. "What does school teach? Survival? Assassination?"  "Everyone knows how important it is to learn outside school walls."  i just didn’t expect to enter an area and get a good old Lacre

but i do like that they seem to want to make her be a mirror to isol in some ways, partially that she’s clearly very bitter and closed-off while isol’s secretly very obviously still soft but so desperately trying to act tough. it’s like rozzi and isol ironically have a dynamic similar to isol and hyunwoo’s. this is coming from the fact that isol specifically in his voicelines wishes he could’ve gone to school

-laura likes saying “okay okay okay”. i didn’t gather much else that i didn’t know through Vibes. but one of her spammable skills has that voiceline so i got the impression that she REALLY likes saying that

[what-bot]

These tags also pass peer review. Reminded of that time he was enthusiastically yeeting dudes to their deaths, including Kevin who narrowly hung on. He probably felt so bad about that

Tron: Uprising (S01E10) Scars Part 2                                    

[hotelstares]

are you on the instagram lol

I have a private one, but it's been a few years since I've legit posted on it. I just use it to follow people nowadays.

[fandommothfreak]

I think Duke should be immortal in the "cannot die" sense and Jason should be immortal in the "cannot stay dead" sense and that they should keep this a secret from everyone including each other. And then they should both get caught in a situation that Absolutely Should Kill Them Instantly, miraculously not die, and then be like:

Like Jason shields Duke from some massive explosion or something, and Duke is horrified because he thinks Jason just pointlessly sacrificed himself for someone who would've been fine anyway - only for Jason to very casually come back from the dead, look at a completely unscathed Duke Thomas, and go, "Hey, what the fuck."

And Duke should look at a freshly revived Jason Todd and be like, "Me what the fuck? No you what the fuck."

And they end up both agreeing to not say a word about this to the rest of the Bats. Which poses issues. Because here you have a pair of unhinged vigilante siblings that do not fear death, that additionally now know they don't have to fear each other's deaths either, both unwilling to give anything less than everything they have to do what they think is right (and/or what they really, really want to).

So. Some things that happen in consequence:

Duke throws Jason off a fifty-story building in pursuit of some shoplifting rich asshole that was caught on camera insulting Duke's favorite metal band and being a classist fuck about it. This does, incidentally, re-traumatize Nightwing, who was ten feet away and not prepared to see his little brother yeeted off the side of a building, no grapple in sight - but it also traumatizes the shoplifter when Jason lands right in front of him, grotesquely knits himself back together, and rises from the ground in a distinctly horrifying fashion just to beat the shit out of him. So Duke takes the win.

Jason shoots Duke in the head to get him to stop shining light in his eyes in the middle of a gunfight. He does stop, but only because Batman shows up out of nowhere, and now Duke gets to pretend to be grievously injured while Batman yells at Jason about "self-control" and "maturity" and "putting teammates at risk." Meanwhile Duke is playing up this horrible concussion that he doesn't even have. Jason is seething. (Duke gets checked out at Leslie's. They convince her to lie for them by appealing to her inner petty bitch.)

Jason gets his payback a few months later by poisoning himself at an undercover op and subsequently forcing Duke to drag his dead body around a mob-owned nightclub for like half an hour trying to convince seasoned criminals that this brick shithouse of a man sprawled awkwardly across his back is just... really wasted. Totally not a corpse.

Both Jason and Duke get caught in many, many, many explosions after that initial reveal, and it's always terrifying for the rest of the Bats. It gets to a point where Batman refuses to partner Duke and Jason together for literally anything, because they always act fucking insane. Big metal vehicle moving hundreds of miles an hour towards an unsuspecting civilian? That's okay! Jason will just throw Duke in front if it. Unknown, volatile substance potentially being used by a notorious serial killer to murder his victims? No lab testing required! Duke will just pour a whole pint of the stuff on Jason's bare arm to see how it reacts. Bomb that can't be disarmed? Why wait for backup when these two psychopaths can just grab the thing and jump into the harbor? Like, genuinely. The stress. Bruce is one particularly traumatic incident away from actually considering therapy.

[cosmicsproutcake]

ok i dont know why it never occurrd to me that issuns legs would be hella strong

Poncles are really strong just in general, but Issun's particularly ripped 'cause he travels a lot, a year of which he did so on his own, so without Ammy as a mount. It's probably like that for all the Celestial Envoys since they get out the most.

[italianexotiicbeauty]

"I've always hated you" (thomas magnum)

Put "I've always hated you" in my inbox for my character's reaction.

"See this look I've got right now Mr. Magnum?" She was pointing at her face with one hand, a closed light brown case file folder in the other. Standing there in the hallway of the Robbery-Homicide division, not too far from the bullpen. "This is the face of someone inherently unbothered by someone hating her, even moreso because there's very little you know about me but that's okay."

Both shoulders shrugged, completely indifferent and unbothered. "I am not aiming to make friends with everyone, that's realistically impossible to begin with. You're allowed to hate me for whatever reason you've come up with. Additionally, neither of us will lose any sleep over you having informed me of your hatred of me — we're adults."

One brow arched now, " — Keep in mind while you are speeding around the island? This individual you barely know won't tolerate disrespect or someone who refuses to give common decency, on any level. If you cannot be civil with me, then I will not be civil with you. I hope I have made myself clear on that."

"Good day, Mr. Magnum and please drive safely on your way back home." Without another word, she turned and walked towards the bullpen for where her desk was.

[tizeline]

TSAU Season 2 Finale - Part 2

Click here to get to Part 1

So Leo and Raph portal to Big Mama's hotel, Raph isn't very enthusiastic about making a deal with Big Mama considering Draxum has always warned them of how dangerous she can be, but it's not like they have a lot of better options. So while Raph is contemplating how to get BM's help without completely screwing themselves over, Leo immedietly jumps in as soon as they meet her and suggests that Raph can fight in the Battle Nexus in exchange for her help! Without consulting Raph about any of this first! Uh oh! So needless to say, Raph starts freaking out a little bit about this, which is made even worse when Leo just decides to reveal that the both of them were made from Lou Jitsu's DNA! UH OH!!

So the reason why Draxum has always tried keeping his sons away from Big Mama is because just them being genetically modified super soldiers already makes it more likely that BM would wanna kidnap them and force them to become gladiators in her Battle Nexus. This possibility doubles triples quadruples if she were to ever find out that they're more or less biologically speaking Lou Jitsu's kids. Not to mention she might wanna take revenge on Draxum for stealing Lou Jitsu from her. All of this is to say, Draxum has always made it very clear to his sons that this is something they need to keep hidden from her. It's a big secret. A big secret that Leo just revealed to Big Mama. The one thing Draxum told them not to do? Yeah Leo just did it. What the fuck.

Listen, Leo's inital offer of having Raph fight in the Nexus wasn't quite enough to get Big Mama to agree to the deal, she needed an extra push, so Leo took a calculated risk and revealed their secret origins. From here on out it plays out basically like in canon, with Raph freaking out the entire time. They both get Lou Jitsu outfits cuz Raph is basically being marketed as "Lou Jitsu Jr". Then when the battle begins Leo also gets yeeted into the arena, it's revealed that he actually planned this entire thing, him and Raph defeat the enemies and Raph is confronted witht he fact that Leo may or may not be a tactical genius???

No one ever really realized just how strategic Leo can be, including Leo! Granted, he can also be very impulsive and reckless at times so it's not entirely their fault no one ever realized Leo's full potential. That being said, he can clearly be real clever with coming up with strategies and plans when he puts his mind to it, he just outsmarted BIG MAMA! No one outsmarts Big Mama! Raph had already started to learn that maybe he should trust Leo a bit more than he usually does when he found out that Leo was right about the whole Dark Armour thing, but this moment right here really cements it for him. But with this little side-quest over and done with, it's time to head back to Donnie, April, Splinter and Shelldon.

So what have they been up to this entire time? Well, again it's rather similar to in canon, they've just been fighting Shredder the entire time lol, April gets to kick ass using a crane! Mikey doesn't get to yeet that big boat this time tough :( since he's not even here. What does still happen is that Donnie almost gets his fucking shell ripped to pieces by Shredder (he's called that for a reason ig). Donnie's battle shell in the AU already isn't really armour and it leaves half of his shell exposed, and he's not even weaing it right now! THANKFULLY he has gotten good enough at using his Ninpō at this point so that he can use that to shield himself, cuz otherwise LEMME TELL YA he'd be fucking DEAD.

Finally they end up that alleyway where Donnie have managed to calculate that Shredder is supposed to appear in. That's when Leo and Raph return with the mystic collar they got from Big Mama, again the rest basically plays out like in canon, Shredder shows up and they manage to get the collar on him and he's finally defeated, yay! Big Mama shows up, sends him to some magic prison dimension and I'm sure this is definitely not gonna become a problem later on, yay again!

With that entire distaster prevented, everyone is now tired as fuck so it's time to go home. With all the drama going on in the Draxum family at the moment, Splinter suggest that Leo and Raph should stay at his and Donnie's home, if only for a few days if they don't feel comfortable going back to Draxum. Leo and Raph decline though since they feel a responsibility to make sure that Draxum and Mikey are doing okay, especially since The Hidden City authorites may or may not come after them now that all their crimes have been exposed. But Leo and Donnie promise to meet up again soon now that they're officially BROS!

Aaaand that's the TSAU season 1 finale! A lot of stuff is gonna go down in season 2, like all the Draxum family drama, Mikey's angsty teen arc, Shredder coming back and causing problems, Mikey maybe getting a cat, Donnie properly bonding with at least some of his brothers, and finding out wherever Casey disappeared to! So yeah, stay tuned for that!

Also bonus doodle vvv

[rowinablx]

Sentry has one of the most twisted and convoluted origin stories in Marvel Comics, and it’s a big part of what makes him such a compelling character. His backstory is a mess of trauma, addiction, and cosmic power, all wrapped up in a fractured psyche that’s as dangerous as it is tragic. Here’s the breakdown:

Sentry’s origin starts with Robert as a junkie, a lowlife meth addict desperate for a fix. He breaks into a lab where he stumbles upon a secret super-soldier serum—a leftover from the Weapon X program, juiced up with some experimental cosmic sauce. He drinks it, and boom, he’s suddenly got “the power of a million exploding suns.” That’s not hyperbole; it’s how his power level is described. Instantly, he’s one of the most powerful beings in the Marvel Universe, on par with or exceeding heavyweights like Thor or Hulk. But here’s the kicker: the serum didn’t just give him power—it split his mind and birthed the Void, a dark, apocalyptic alter ego that’s basically his ID unleashed. The Void isn’t just a villain; it’s a part of him, a reflection of his guilt, self-loathing, and repressed rage.

What makes this so fucked up is the psychological toll. Robert’s not a hero by nature—he’s a broken man who accidentally becomes a god. He tries to do good as Sentry, but his mental instability and the Void’s constant presence mean he’s a walking disaster. Early on, he’s retconned into Marvel history as this Golden Age-style hero who’s been around forever, but his mind’s so shattered he can’t even trust his own memories. Turns out, he begged the world—including his best friend Reed Richards and Doctor Strange—to erase him from existence because he couldn’t control the Void. They mind-wipe everyone, including him, to forget he ever existed. That’s some dark shit: a guy so powerful he’s a threat to reality, yet so fragile he’d rather be unmade than live with himself.

Then there’s the reveal that the Void killed his wife, Lindy, in a fit of rage—or maybe he did it as Sentry and blamed the Void. It’s ambiguous, and that’s the point. His whole deal is unreliable narration. He’s schizophrenic, delusional, and his perception of reality is a mess. Every heroic act he does is shadowed by the fear that he’ll snap and end the world. In Siege, he loses it completely, and the Avengers have to take him down—Thor yeets his corpse into the sun. Even then, he comes back, because death doesn’t stick for a guy like him.

Why does this matter for Thunderbolts? The upcoming MCU movie is bringing Sentry in, played by Lewis Pullman, and it’s heavily implied if not outright shown he’ll be the major antagonist. If they water down his origin—make him just another strong guy with a generic villain arc—they’ll miss what makes him tick. Sentry’s not a straightforward hero or villain; he’s a cautionary tale about power without stability. The Thunderbolts are a team of antiheroes and misfits, and Sentry fits that vibe perfectly—a wildcard who could save them or doom them. His addiction, his mental illness, the Void—it’s all crucial to showing why he’s not just a Superman knockoff but a deeply human fuck-up with godlike power. Strip that away, and you’re left with a bland cape guy. Keep it, and you’ve got a story that could rival the best MCU character arcs, like Tony Stark’s or Loki’s. Messing it up would be a disservice to one of Marvel’s most unhinged and tragic creations.

*just found out that Sentry's creator has been involved from the beginning with Sentry's character in Thunderbolts and is basically contracted to write a Sentry project!!!

[lazy-ahh]

TROUBLE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU

pairing mark grayson x (vigilante) male reader

you’re a disaster wrapped in kevlar and bad decisions. mark grayson? he’s sunshine in spandex. you shouldn’t work. you don’t work—except when it’s 2 am and the city’s quiet, except when his hands find the cracks in your armor like they were made to fit there. except when he looks at you like you’re something worth loving, and for once, you don’t have the heart to tell him he’s wrong.

the crumpled hood of the villains’ getaway van makes a decent chair, if you ignore the broken glass. you’re sprawled across it like it’s your personal throne, watching mark hover nearby like an overprotective shadow. the would-be thieves are zip-tied in a groaning pile, one of them still half-stuck in the dumpster you gracefully introduced him to earlier.

"wow," you drawl, kicking your boots up on the shattered windshield. "you guys really thought this plan would work? even i have higher standards, and i once fought a telekinetic badger with a crowbar."

mark continues to hover near you, arms crossed. "you drop-kicked a guy into a dumpster," he says, like it’s some kind of crime.

"correction: i tactically repositioned him into a dumpster," you counter, grinning as he rolls his eyes. "and hey—" you gesture to the defeated goons. "—no guns, no hostages, just a little creative problem-solving. admit it, vincible. you love having a partner who keeps things interesting."

he opens his mouth—probably to whine about "excessive force" or whatever—but stops when you flick a crumpled soda can at his chest. the way his frown fights a smile? priceless.

mark sighs, defeated, before finally floating down, landing with a stupidly heroic thud. he offers you a hand, and you take it, if only to mock his gentlemanly gesture. except he doesn’t let go. and—weirdly—you don’t pull away either. his thumb brushes over your knuckles, slow and deliberate, and you have to fight the urge to yank your hand back just to spite him. (who does he think he is, melting your edges like this?)

"you wanna come to my house for dinner?" he murmurs, leaning in just enough that his breath ghosts over your ear. "mom says she’s cooking your favorite dish to entice you. her words, not mine."

you can hear the smirk in his voice. bastard. "wow, bribing me with food now? you’re getting desperate, vincible," you shoot back, but your traitorous fingers tighten around his anyway.

he huffs a laugh, warm and close. "is it working?"

(yes.)

"depends," you lie. "what’s she making?"

"pork sisig."

"sisig?" you deadpan, raising an eyebrow. "damn, aunt debbie’s playing dirty. she knows i’d crawl through hell for that crispy pork."

mark’s grin is obnoxiously smug. "yep. she also said if you say no, she’ll save the leftovers for me instead—"

"over my dead body," you snap, already dragging him toward the street. his laugh is stupidly bright for someone who just witnessed you yeet a man into a dumpster ten minutes ago.

(and okay, fine—maybe you like that sound. maybe you’ve memorized the exact way his nose scrunches when he’s trying not to cackle at your bullshit. maybe you’ve even stopped "accidentally" stealing his hoodies because his scent clinging to you is… whatever. not the point.)

"knew you’d cave," mark sing-songs, swinging your joined hands like an overexcited golden retriever. the sidewalk crowd parts around you two—not out of fear (though your rep should warrant it), but because invincible is practically skipping down the street with a guy who once put a batarang through a drug lord’s windshield as a warning shot. the stares burn into your back. great. tomorrow’s headlines will be invincible’s mysterious boyfriend revealed! with some paparazzi shot of mark grinning like an idiot while you glare at the camera like it personally offended you. you think it's funny (and endearing) that mark doesn't seem to care.

you shove him with your free hand. "shut up. i’m tolerating you for the food."

"uh-huh," he says, voice dripping with the kind of smugness that makes you want to strangle him. or kiss him. annoying. "that’s why you also agreed to movie night after. and let my dad teach you viltrumite chess last week—which, by the way, you cheated at—"

"vincible," you growl, "i swear to god—"

he kisses your gloved knuckles, slow and deliberate, just to watch your brain bluescreen. asshole.

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

"aunt debbie, i don’t think i can eat anyone else’s cooking of sisig anymore," you say around a mouthful of rice, already reaching for your third serving. "this is illegal. you’re gonna ruin all other food for me."

debbie beams, refilling your plate before you can even ask. "good. that means you’ll keep coming back," she says, flicking your forehead lightly. "mark said you punched a guy through a wall today. again."

"he deserved it," you mutter, shooting a glare at mark—who’s too busy laughing into his soda to defend you. his knee knocks against yours under the table, warm and steady, and fuck, you hate how your body betrays you by leaning into it. like some pathetic magnet. like you’re not the guy who once made one of the most notorious villains flinch.

nolan leans back in his chair, arms crossed. "you know, when mark said he was dating someone ‘intense,’ i didn’t realize he meant ‘frequently commits property damage.’"

"oh please," you scoff, pointing your fork at him. "you literally leveled a city once. i’m tame compared to you."

the table goes quiet. mark chokes on his drink.

then nolan laughs—deep and booming—while debbie shakes her head like she’s already drafting your apology to the mayor. "he’s got you there, honey," she says, patting nolan’s arm.

mark kicks your shin under the table, grinning. "stop impressing my dad. it’s weird."

"make me, vincible," you shoot back—just as debbie slides another heap of sisig onto your plate.

you don’t miss the way mark’s fingers brush yours when he steals your spoon to eat your food, though. or how his thumb lingers on your wrist for half a second too long, calloused and sure. bastard. he knows what he’s doing. knows the way your pulse jumps under his touch, knows you’ll let him take whatever he wants from you—food, space, the last shreds of your reputation as chicago’s most unshakeable bastard.

and the worst part? he gives it all right back. in the way he leans into your space like he’s trying to fuse your skeletons together. in the way his laugh softens to something private when you grumble "fine, take it," pushing the plate toward him. in the way he tugs you into the couch later, his nose buried in your hair like he’s trying to memorize the scent of gunpowder and cheap shampoo.

(you’ll never admit it, but you’d raze cities for this guy. and he knows. he knows.)

you lay there, ear pressed to his chest like it’s the only compass you’ve ever needed, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. it’s too much. it’s not enough. your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt like you’re afraid the universe will yank this away any second—because it always does. because you’re the kid who crawled out of a battlefield that could've been his grave, the soldier cecil left behind, the ghost who burns too bright to keep. you don’t get this. not soft blankets on your back, not warm hands in your hair, not mark’s stupidly perfect ribs rising and falling beneath your cheek like some kind of prayer.

but for someone who’s never stayed in one place longer than a mission briefing, this feels like home. and that’s the most terrifying part.

the two of you stay like that for what feels like forever, mark combing his fingers through your hair like you’re something precious instead of something broken. your arms lock around his sinfully thin waist, pulling him closer with a quiet huff of contentment. you, who’ve bitten off threats with bloodied teeth and called it a smile, who wear your scars like armor—you melt against him. your usual sharp edges (the furrowed brow, the tension in your jaw, the always-ready-to-bite smirk) smooth out into something peaceful. something safe.

mark’s chest rumbles with a silent laugh beneath you. ha. knew you were a softie. he doesn’t say it out loud, but you feel it in the way his fingertips trace your scalp, in the way he presses his lips to your forehead like he’s sealing a promise.

and damn him for it, because he’s right. damn him for the way his hands fit against the notches of your spine like they were carved to hold ruin. damn him for how easy he makes it—to breathe, to stay, to believe the impossible truth that a heart as shattered as yours could still be something worth kissing.

damn him for the way his stupidly perfect smile slots between your ribs and into your heart every time he looks at you. those soft brown eyes that don’t just see you, but keep seeing you—past the bloodstains and the body count, through every lie you’ve ever worn like armor. his dark hair spills across the pillow like a piece of the night sky you’re allowed to touch, and isn’t that the cruelest joke? that someone made of starlight and second chances would choose to orbit a black hole like you?

damn him most of all for how he loves you. reckless and relentless, like his heart didn’t get the memo that yours is a crime scene. he pours love into you like it’s something you could deserve—overflowing and endless, while all you can give back are jagged pieces and residues of warmth and love, scraped raw from the ruins of you and in-between the cracks of your broken heart.

and the worst part? you’d let him ruin you like this forever.

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

it’s 2 AM, that cursed hour your body insists on waking to like clockwork, some leftover survival instinct from a life that demanded you sleep with one eye open. but tonight, the reason you’re awake is softer. warmer. mark’s chest rises and falls beneath your cheek, his breath steady as a metronome. you push up on one elbow, slow and careful, just enough to see his face in the blue-dark of the living room—all the daylight tension smoothed out of his features, his lips slightly parted, his stupidly long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

you stay like that, frozen in the quiet, staring with the kind of naked devotion that would’ve made your younger self sneer. pathetic, he’d have said. weak. but here, now, with no one to witness except the moon through the curtains, you let yourself look. let yourself want. your fingers itch to touch, so you do—trailing through his hair like you’re mapping the shape of something holy. his strands are stupidly soft between your calloused fingers, and when he sighs in his sleep, nuzzling unconsciously into your palm, your chest does something embarrassing.

you’re so fucked.

you should stop. you don’t. minutes stretch like taffy, sticky-sweet and endless, your thumb brushing his temple, the shell of his ear, the dip behind his jaw. you’re a thief memorizing the contours of a treasure you’ll never deserve. mark shifts, and for a heartbeat you think you’ve woken him—but no, he just turns his face into your wrist, his lips grazing your pulse point like an accidental kiss.

then his eyes flutter open.

and god, the way he looks at you—like you’re the first thing he wants to see every morning for the rest of his life, like he’s already dreaming and you’re the best part. his groggy smile is a knife between your ribs.

"morning, sleeping beauty," you murmur, your voice rough with something too close to worship. your fingers don’t stop moving through his hair, even as his arms tighten around you, pulling you down until your foreheads touch.

"what time is it?" he slurs, already half-asleep again.

you press a silent kiss to the corner of his mouth. "you don’t need to know." your hand slides down to cover his eyes, playful. "just... go back to sleep."

"no, no... it’s fine." mark’s voice is still thick with sleep, but his grip on your wrist is sure as he pulls your palm to his lips, pressing a kiss to the scar that cuts across it—the one you got the night you two met, back when you still pretended you weren’t impressed by him. he pushes up onto his elbows, his hair sticking up in every direction, and kisses your forehead like it’s a habit. "i know you wanna go for a ride. i’ll come with you."

and fuck. you’ve spent your whole life being looked at, not seen—except by him. your breath stutters, eyes wide as you stare at him like he’s just peeled back your ribs and counted every broken piece. what did i ever do to deserve you? you don’t say it, but your face must scream it, because mark just laughs softly, already tugging you off the couch with that stupidly chivalrous "up you go" grip he’s had since day one.

a year together, and it still hits you like a sucker punch: how easy this is for him. how he knows you better than you know yourself—knows that when the nightmares or the restlessness claw at you, your first instinct isn’t to talk, or fight, or drink. it’s to vanish into the city’s veins on your bike, let the wind rip the thoughts right out of your skull. and mark? he doesn’t ask. doesn’t lecture. just straps on his helmet like it’s the most natural thing in the world to chase your demons at 2 am.

"you’re buying the coffee after," you grumble, shoving his shoulder as you grab your keys off the counter.

mark grins, already toeing on his sneakers like a man who’s done this a hundred times. (he has.) "uh-huh. and you’re not gonna speed just to feel me cling to you like a scared koala."

"no promises, grayson."

wow. 2.3k words of pure sleep-deprived brainrot (are you sure?) at 2 am and somehow... it worked? i was absolutely COOKING while listening to "soft spot" by keshi on repeat - that song basically soundtracks the whole couch scene so please go give it a listen! we all deserve this exact brand of tender love in our lives (manifesting it right now for all of us) cause we know we all need that inVINCIDIH-