ectobiologistegbert

[ectobiologistegbert]

people really need to be careful what they reblog without double-checking. the earliest reblog of this that can still be found is, like. from 2013. and this is listed almost word for word on snopes as being fake...

A Little girl, 3 yrs. old picked up by a man driving a gray car, license plate: Quebec 72B 381. Canada. Reblog this. It could save her. The Kidnapping is recent so do it, 3 seconds will not kill you. If it were your child .

[ectobiologistegbert]

[ectobiologistegbert]

the slytherins making a drinking game where they take a shot every time draco malfoy talks about harry potter

[ectobiologistegbert]

randomegbert replied to your post:

lame.

i totally feel like 3:27 a.m. is the optimal time for them to be open.

[ectobiologistegbert]

i don't know why starbucks isn't open at 3:27 a.m.

[ectobiologistegbert]

Holy shit.

The difference between how you've been feeling lately and how you're feeling now is... unfathomable. You've been in a slump for quite some time now, feeling lost somehow and unsure how to fix it.

But now everything's different. It's so different and for the first time in forever you feel alive again, like you used to. Back before when the two of you lived in your house in Washington, the time when you two made your most precious memories, when you fell in love.

You can't help but grin like an idiot at what he says (and you are an idiot, the biggest idiot, for forgetting things for so long).

"I love you too, dickweed," you breathe, burying your face in his neck.

At long last, you're finally home.

==>

You swear your heart’s beating a million miles a second and it doesn’t help with the way John pulls you closer and kisses you back and it feels like everything up until this point has been some fucked up dream and it’s only now, with him beside you, that you’re finally waking up and finally remembering how to live.

You have to pull away eventually, as much as you don’t want to. But you press your forehead against his and take his hands because there’s something he needs to know, something you need to tell him. Something you’ve told him many times before in past lives and past iterations.

"John. I love you." You squeeze his hands tightly, leaning in to kiss him again before whispering against his lips.

"I love you, you fucking asshole." Something tells you you won’t be separating any time soon.

[ectobiologistegbert]

He makes a little noise when you kiss him and you swear it's the most wonderful sound you've ever heard in your entire life. Maybe even one of the sweetest sounds to ever be made in the history of humanity?Either way, there's no denying the way it makes something seem to rise and swell in your chest, threatening to burst out at any moment.

Then his arms are around your waist and pulling you close like in the countless dreams (or were they memories?) you've had of moments just like this. It's a very, very good day to be alive. And an even better day to be John Egbert.

"Yeah, Dave?"

Except you don't quite manage to find out what he's saying because his hands are cupping your face and—-

Oh.

The dreams you've had about him kissing you like this don't even start to compare to the real thing. Your knees feel a little weak, like the soft pressure of Dave's lips has turned them to jelly.

But you don't want him to stop.

In fact, you only kiss back, gripping his shirt tightly like he'll be snatched away from you if you slacken your grip.

==>

And for a moment time slows to a crawl where each millisecond carries the weight of eternity. Except this time you aren’t timetravelling and in truth each moment passes like each moment should.

It doesn’t stop it from feeling like years. A thousand of them. He presses you against the door and, oh. He’s doing something with his mouth and you feel your heart skip a couple beats like a scratch on a record and you make a little sound when he makes contact and you feel like you’ve been waiting for this moment for so fucking long you can barely describe even a fraction of the emotions that you’re constantly failing to describe anyway. You pull him closer, arms around his waist. You’re no good with words. You were never good with words.  "John. I.." Even so, you try one more time with the words thing. And you end up shaking your head. There’s an easier way to do this.

You cup his face and kiss him.

[ectobiologistegbert]

He opens the door and the first thing you notice is that he's wearing the necklace. Your silly, stupid, cheesy as hell necklace.

Well, of course he's wearing the necklace, but. It still really means a lot to you, even though it shouldn't be a really big deal or anything. You can't bring yourself to look at his eyes quite yet, though, so you keep your gaze trained on your gift.

He likes it.

He really likes it, you can tell. And that makes you irrationally relieved and happy (even though you shouldn't have been anxious about it at all in the first place).

But the real kicker is when he. Just, takes your hands and intertwines your fingers. And you're transported back through time and space, to the first time you saw him in person. To the kitchen months later, knife in his hand. And for a second it feels like all your breath has left your body, and—- 

Oh god, don't start crying now, John. 

"Yeah, they do," you say, not choked up in the slightest. (A poor lie.)

And you... move closer and gently press dave against the door with your body, leaning forward to bridge the gap between your lips.

"Happy birthday, Dave."

==>

You’ve got half a mind to tell him to open the door since you don’t plan on talking to a slab of wood, but you know it’s unlocked. He’s got no reason to keep it locked anyway. So you gently turn the knob, opening it.

You’re wearing the necklace he got you. It’s cheesy as hell. But you are never going to take it off.

When you close the door behind you, you stare down at the floor. Unable to meet his eyes just yet.

"Your present," you start. "It’s nice." Understatement. "S’cool and shit." Understatement. "I like it." Understatement.

And you bite your lip a little, searching for the right words to convey everything you want him to know.

"…Your hand. And mine. And stuff. You know."

You take his left hand in your right. And. Gently intertwine your fingers.

"They match."

[ectobiologistegbert]

You're kind of just dicking around a little on your laptop, a little too nervous to do anything serious because you know he's probably gotten your present and you wonder if it's any good and if he likes it.

There's no ignoring the sound of his padded footsteps making his way toward your door, though. Your heart is in your throat for some reason, you realize, as he stops in front of your door and you slowly rise out of your chair to make your way over to the door.

"Dave?"

==>

You show up after getting his letter, in front of his bedroom.  There’s a million things you could say and there’s a million things you’re thinking but there’s nothing that exists that can describe what you feel. 

How do you describe meeting your soulmate for the second time? You don’t. You can’t. 

You press your forehead against the door and close your eyes.  "John."

[ectobiologistegbert]

can the science side of tumblr explain THIS

[ectobiologistegbert]

[ectobiologistegbert]

[ectobiologistegbert]

Pokemon Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire

[ectobiologistegbert]

i'm hungry.

[ectobiologistegbert]

GOOD. I LIKE THE SOUND OF THAT

sweet!

[ectobiologistegbert]

IT DID... DOES. AND I'M NOT WILLING TO JUST LET IT GO SO EASILY.

well, then i'm not either!

i'm sure we can make it work.

[ectobiologistegbert]

HEY MAN I TRY AND LIKE. WE WERE GOOD FRIENDS AND SHIT SO I'M GOING TO SEE IF I CAN GET THAT BACK. WEATHER IT BE NEW OR RECALLING THE OLD. HA JOHN. YOU'RE STUCK WITH ME.

gee, thanks karkat! i'm glad our friendship meant that much to you.