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#the sizes are weird because its based on the screenshot of them dancing in a circle
rotshop · 4 months
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godzilla i love you
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it’s time for the “overanalyzing one-off lines” show!
so the very first thing magnus says when he sees pit in chapter 2 of kid icarus: uprising is as follows:
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“Well, I didn’t expect to see an angel here. Hope this doesn’t mean I’ve kicked the bucket.”
now, i’m not sure if you’re aware, but that’s a really weird thing for someone to say, and it’s even more weird that no one comments on it. pit and palutena go on talking about unrelated things, as if that’s a totally normal and expected thing for magnus to say.
now, if you’re like me, you probably also didn’t really react to this line the first few times you saw it. it’s the second chapter, kiu has a lot of slightly-odd lines which turn out to be foreshadowing. me, personally? my first thought was “oh, i guess angels are probably associated with escorting the dead to the afterlife,“ and then i moved on.
they’re not, though. that’s what reapers do. and there’s no way humans have these two races mixed up. just fucking look at them.
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do they look anything alike to you??? no. they don’t. which raises the question of why, exactly, magnus said that.
now, we don’t know a lot about angels as a whole. pit (and by extension dark pit) is emphatically not the gold standard of angeldom. we can assume he looks fairly ordinary for an angel, seeing as no one has trouble identifying him as such. beyond that, though, a lot of what we know about angels comes from what pit isn’t. for starters, he can’t fly. and there’s something else, too, but i’ll get to that later.
before that, though, i’m gonna go through the various unsubstantiated comments made by people with a dubious level of authority on the subject. (incidentally, i sourced these screenshots from the wiki— much more convenient than trying to dig through youtube for every single random conversation.)
without any further ado! let’s get into it!
Angels as Messengers
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Gaol: Aw, Palutena’s little messenger boy. And Magnus, it’s always a pleasure. (src)
in the specific context of overanalyzing magnus’s first line, this is an important sentence to pick out. magnus and gaol are both humans, both with presumably a fairly similar history as mercenaries up until gaol got stuffed in a suit of armor. but while magnus makes a weird comment about death, gaol calls pit a messenger.
and pit agrees with her!
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Viridi: I wish I had an angel to do my bidding. It’s like having an intern.
Pit: I’m not an intern. I’m a messenger of the gods!
Viridi: Poor Pit. Don't you know that the definition of angel is "errand spirit"? (src)
this particular conversation is the most insight we get into angels as a whole, i think. viridi thinks of angels as like divine interns, there to do little tasks for gods, and palutena doesn’t exactly disagree with her. pit says they’re specifically messengers, which lines up with biblical mythology. i could see the traditional role of angels in the world of KI being exactly that, showing up to tell the humans what the gods have to say because the gods themselves are too busy being petty jerks to do it themselves.
The Angel’s Code of Conduct
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Magnus: You go in fully dressed? Don't you at least want to change into a...swimming tunic or something?
Pit: Oh, no no no! The angel's code of conduct says that we must always be ready for duty.
Magnus: I guess you wouldn't be an angel if you didn't do things by the book. (src)
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Pit: Hey! You know the angel's code of conduct! I need to be prepared at all times! (src)
another random little thing is the angel’s code of conduct. without a larger sample size, we can’t know if it’s a real thing or just an excuse to save on laundry, but apparently it’s against the rules to not be on call at all times. in pit’s case, the duty he has to be ready for is doing palutena’s dirty work, but it can easily mean just about anything— including, of course, being a messenger.
No Warrior
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Chariot Master: But you are no warrior, angel. Tell me, why do you fight?
Pit: I fight for Lady Palutena. And I fight for the people under her protection!
Chariot Master: That's not reason enough for an angel. (src)
remember how i said there was something else weird about pit? the chariot master seems to think angels aren’t very prone to battle— or perhaps even that they’re actively opposed to it. this lines up well with the idea that they’re supposed to be messengers, peaceful go-betweens for gods and mortals. this does not line up well with pit, the adorable weapon of mass destruction.
and it also does absolutely nothing to explain the question driving the whole existence of this post.
you know what does kinda lean towards an explanation?
No Other Angels
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Pit: Do all gods have their own angels, like you have me?
Palutena: No, I don't think that's necessarily the case. (src)
i said before that the Intern Pit conversation had the most illuminating information on angels. this is what i was actually referring to. on its own, it’s pretty innocuous, but it’s just as weird as the magnus line. shouldn’t pit know about other angels, seeing as he is one himself? but he doesn’t know if there are other angels.
the only angels we ever see are him and his clone. no one ever directly references the existence of other angels, they only make general statements about what angels as a whole are like— statements which clearly don’t apply to pit, meaning they’re not just extrapolating based on the one angel that definitely does exist.
the one time someone does comment on the hypothetical existence of other angels, palutena gives a vague answer to the tune of “no,” the topic is changed, and no one brings it up again.
let’s go over everything i’ve established about angels up to this point. they can fly, they’re peaceful messengers of the gods, and pit is the only one that seems to exist as of the start of KIU.
it should be pretty obvious at this point what answer i’m dancing around, if it wasn’t obvious from the start. pit is the only angel around because all the other ones are dead. the reason why magnus said what he did is that his thought process went something like this:
See an angel.
Think “Aren’t angels extinct? Is that a ghost? Am I a ghost? I sure hope not.“
Make a quip about that.
Move on with his life, because he isn’t dead and evidently neither is this guy.
i’m not gonna pretend i went into this post with the intent of any other conclusion to that mystery. anyone who’s bothered glancing over a plot summary for the original kid icarus can draw that conclusion. it’s certainly what i did, reinforced by fics by people who had the same thought!
the truth, however, is that this was all a trick to get you to read my analysis of the theoretical nature of angels as a race. now that you’re invested, i’m going to dramatically throw aside my cape and reveal my TRUE FORM: telling people that fandom consensus is wrong, and my ideas are cooler and better than everyone else’s and you should all throw roses at my feet and bow before your king.
(or just, y’know, take it as the subjective analysis that it is. whatever floats your boat.)
Hot Takes
the original kid icarus does not actually tell you about angels going extinct. here’s the wiki article with the full text of the backstory, just for convenience, so you know what i’m on about for the rest of this post.
so, the part of the story that i think gets misinterpreted is this part about palutena’s army.
Medusa led a surprise attack on Palutena's army which could barely fend off the attack. Palutena's army suffered major losses and was heavily defeated in the final battle.
specifically, i think a lot of people interpret said army as having been made up at least partly of angels. sure, in the actual game it consists entirely of centurions, but you have to take old NES games with a grain of salt. i know i don’t buy for a second that pit was part of palutena’s guard before the original game (he was just too goddamn young), there’s nothing wrong with reinterpreting things.
recall everything i established about angels already, though. this is the hot official lore, from the game everyone knows and loves. angels are messengers, and if the chariot master is to be believed, never warriors. pit is an outlier. palutena’s army consists of centurions, not angels. if medusa wiped them out, it wasn’t because they were fighting for palutena.
(and honestly, i don’t think angels are necessarily associated with palutena exclusively. sure, she’s got the wing imagery, and she’s got the one known surviving angel working for her, at least up until pittoo is born. but angels are messengers of the gods, not messengers of palutena. again, pit is an outlier.)
which all brings us to the real question of this post.
what the FUCK happened to all the other angels? why is there only pit? why does magnus act surprised to see a messenger of the gods, and make a quip about being dead, if not because angels are otherwise extinct?! WHO KILLED THEM, AND WHY?!
thus concludes the “over analyzing one-off lines“ show. see you next, uh, maybe at some point if i feel like it!
(also another thought i had but couldn’t find room to fit it in properly: the gods don’t really act like angels are all extinct, but i feel like that can be explained through the sheer scale of a god’s lifespan. if we assume they were wiped out sometime around the original kid icarus (even if not as palutena’s army) then that’s a whole twenty-five years. that’s a long time for us humans, but for a god, that might as well be last tuesday. “yeah, i know what angels are like. sure wish i could have one. too bad palutena’s got a monopoly on the one single angel that medusa didn’t manage to wreck.”)
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reddiess · 7 years
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[stan_the_man messaged you]
For the anon who wrote:  "stenbrough social media/college au where person A is an instagram model and person B is a fan who has a friend that forces them to follow and comment, and !! person A notices him!!!!" i’m so sorry something was wrong with the connection so i either didn’t post it or deleted it but shoot me a message if you liked it op! you can also find this on my AO3 Requests are open, shoot me a prompt for a fic or headcanon!! Summary:  Stanley Uris has an undying crush on Instagram model Bill Denbrough. Which is fine, until Richie Tozier goes and messages him. * The moment Stanley Uris spots his best friend with his phone in his hand, suspiciously only tapping once on the screen and with purpose, is the moment he knows Richie Tozier is fucking dead. "Richie," he draws the word out as if to question his friend's entire existence. "What are you doing with my phone?" The traitor looks up and has the audacity to smile innocently, like he doesn't know what Stanley is talking about. "Um... Nothing?" "Nothing my ass," Stan murmurs under his breath before sizing the situation up and jumping into action. He throws himself over the back of their leather couch but Richie is already out of the living room, wheezing as he bolts towards the kitchen door. Stan stops and crosses his arms in front of his torso, waiting for the inevitable— CRASH! He watches with perverse satisfaction as his flatmate trips over the ironing board standing in the entrance to the kitchen, toppling to the floor. "There's something in the way," he deadpans. "Watch out."
"Fucking bitch." Richie pushes himself up. Somehow, there's still an unnerving grin splitting his frog face in two. "I still messaged him though."
Stanley's eye twitches. "Who exactly, again?" He stomps over to the monster he calls his best friend and rips his phone out of his hand. "WHAT THE FUCK!"
*
DING!
stan_the_man followed you
DING!
stan_the_man mentioned you in a comment: @billyboy boi fuk me up u fiiiiiiine
Bill Denbrough's eyebrows draw together in confusion, his stare almost piercing holes into the touchscreen of his phone; what kind of language...?
DING!
stan_the_man messaged you: dam boi are u a pair of ray bans bc ud look great sitting on my face ;);););)
The line is so out of the blue and bizarre that Bill actually bursts out laughing. He sits up and quickly screenshots the ridiculous message to send to the groupchat with his closest friends.
Out of pure curiosity he clicks on stan_the_man's profile and is surprised to find that the guy looks fairly normal – handsome, even – and not at all creepy like he would've expected. There's also no trace of the attitude or the, um, grammar he used in his direct message to Bill. He actually just looks like a regular guy who's nice and hot and therefore way out of Bill's league.
He goes back to the direct message to type in a reply but changes his mind pretty quickly. Should he even address something as childish and weird as this message? Should he even...
DING!
He almost drops his phone in surprise.
stan_the_man: Oh God, sorry. That was my roommate, this is so embarrassing. He thinks he's funny.
No emojis, no pickup lines. But at least the guy has good grammar. That's more than what he normally sees on Instagram these days.
*
Stan tries to forget all about the most embarrassing event of his life, also known as the time Richie dm'd his Instagram crush with a godawful fuckboy one-liner. He doesn't unfollow Bill Denbrough though because why would he?
He does still spend a good majority of his free time stalking the guy's profile. What can he do when Bill is literally perfect with all his black and white photoshoots and colorful model shots in European countries and mirror selfies with his dog? What is Stan supposed to do, ignore it? Yeah well, not today - and not only because he's a photography major and the shots make his heart weep but also because Bill is ridiculously perfect.
So here's the brief story of how he found the guy: He was exhausted after a long day of work and was in search of a movie stupid enough for his mushy brain to absorb. In this state of mind, a person's brain capacity is not exactly at its full potential, and so that's his excuse for clicking on a Buzzfeed article titled "21 Hottest Male Models We Shamelessly Follow On Instagram". Go figure.
All of them were hot, of course. But Bill Denbrough was... something else. All Stanley could think about was photographing him. Most of the models were these muscly, handsome machos with chiseled jawlines and messy hair - your typical, well, douchebag look. None of them were Stan's type by far, so he was ready to close the article but then he saw number 21, Bill Denbrough aka @billyboy. Bill was... stunning, to say the least. For starters, he didn't have any facial hair, one point for him. He was not buff, more of a tall and lean type, another point. Not the average face that's considered universally attractive but more of a unique charm and he seemed to have a dog; more points. His bio said:
Bill Denbrough 23yr old model based in New York, loves dogs, books, nature and tv shows. Advocate for LGBTQ+ and homeless youth. For business inquiries, please contact...
His pictures all matched with his bio, Stan realized as he scrolled through his profile. He really was a dog and nature lover, liked to read and was actively helping the LGBT and homeless youth - infinite points and there went Stanley Uris' heart.
So that was then. Now is now, and now... Stan is getting a message from him.
What!?
Stan clears his cache, force stops and restarts the Instagram app and cold boots his phone but it's still there:
billyboy: Haha, no problem man. I know a lot about annoying roommates. I like your work btw!
What. The. Fuck. He doesn't know if he should smack Richie or kiss him.
stan_the_man: Wow, thank you! I'm a photography & imaging major so they're mostly my assignments, but some of them are just for fun. Are you still studying?
Lame, but kind of okay. Acknowledged Bill's compliment, gave a bit of insight related to the topic, asked to show he's also interested in having a conversation. That's normal, right? He waits a couple of minutes before sending it just so he doesn't seem desperate but gets a reply almost instantly.
billyboy: Yeah, I'm studying creative writing, it's my last year though. Can't wait to be out of uni tbh.
stan_the_man: same, I'd sell my soul at this point for it to be over
Bill laughs, or at least sends a laughing emoji so Stan guesses he does. That's how he starts talking to his Instagram crush.
*
It doesn't help much with his crush, talking to Bill. If anything, it makes him like the guy even more, which in turn just makes his heart hurt when he thinks about how he doesn't have a chance. Sometimes he has a flicker of hope, like when Bill says something especially flirty or compliments his new picture. He doesn't post many selfies but the one he does Bill ends up commenting on ("What a handsome curly man #crying") and Stanley ends up gaining 300 followers overnight.
And his infatuation with the model just keeps growing and growing. He's certain Bill is not perfect, he can't be but what can a man do when it sure seems like he is? Stan has no chance. So he does the stupidest thing he can do and invites him out for coffee. As soon as he sends the message he throws his phone across the room, the childhood habit of biting his fingernails making a short but threatening return. Get your act together, Stanley thinks. He's just a guy.
He's Bill Denbrough, he's not just some guy! His mind helpfully supplies.
You're arguing with yourself again. Stop it.
I do whatever I w--
DING!
That has to be Bill. It has to be. Stan carefully rounds his bed and reaches for his phone, pushing the home button so he sees his lockscreen. The preview of Bill's message starts with Sure! When are you... and then it's cut off.
Stanley looks around to see if Richie is in hearing distance, and when he finds he's in the clear, he does a dance of celebration.
He really should give a present of gratitude to Richie now.
*
It goes well. Coffee, that is. They hit it off right away because as normal as Bill comes through in his messages, his humour actually aligns with Stan's in that dry, passive aggressive, death loving kind of way. Which is fine. Amazing.
What's not amazing however, is how perfect he actually is. Stan sees his clear skin and perfect hair and amazing body proportions and red lips every day on Instagram but it has nothing on the real thing. There's just no way any camera could ever capture the charisma the guy has.
(Stanley is going to try though. Even if Bill wouldn't have agreed to it, he would somehow bribe him into modeling for his portfolio. He did agree though, and without any extra convincing too so Stan is going to make the most of that promise.)
It turns out that Bill's favorite tv show is Supernatural, bless his soul, but his favorite movie is Edward Scissorhands, which Stan also loves. They also realize they go to the same university and actually took a course together last semester – some bullshit class where attendance wasn't mandatory – except Stan never realized it. Bill traveled a lot last year due to his modeling career and Stan literally never was there so there was little to no chance of them meeting; which is nice because he would have had an aneurysm on the spot.
When he gets home that afternoon Richie is already sitting in the armchair in their living room with crossed legs.
"I see you've had a fun day," he waves his phone at Stanley, who has to squint to see that Bill has uploaded the selfie they took together to his Instagram.
"None of your business," Stan replies and automatically turns to leave. Well, he would if Richie Tozier didn't jump on his back the next second and really, how is he that fast?
"Tell me EVERYTHING Stan the man, don't you even think about sparing me any juicy details!" Richie booms in his ear before he manages to shake him off enough that only his arms remain locked around Stan's neck. "Come oooon, I hooked you guys up!"
"What the fuck do you mean you hooked us-" DING! "Excuse me, I have to go." He unceremoniously bites Richie in the forearm until he has no chance to let go with a yelp.
"At least tell me later!" his best friend shouts after him but he's already halfway to his room. He plops down onto the light blue bedsheets he changed just yesterday, and the faint smell of the detergent kind of reminds him of how Bill smelled when they half-hugged while saying goodbye.
billyboy: Thank you for the coffee today! I actually have a confession to make.
billyboy: Tell me if I got the wrong message or anything but I had a very hard time not kissing you after we met. I just thought it would be fair to tell you.
Stan turns so his face mushes into the pillow and screams.
*
("When were you going to tell me this?!" Richie shouts, pushing his phone screen into Stan's face. "HUH?"
It's a picture Bill took on campus of them kissing - he uploaded it onto his Instagram story which in turn spiked hundreds of fans to raid Stanley's DM's – mostly with positivity – and Richie to, apparently, have a mental breakdown.
"Just die," Stan replies, pushing the oversized phone out of his face, but he is smiling. "I was going to tell you later, maybe when we're not in the library? You're making a lot of noise."
He's pretty sure he can see Richie's face turn purple with how much he's trying not to scream.
He is going to buy him a present, don't worry. But for now, he has to work on his assignment so he can go meet his boyfriend.)
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0n-y0ur-left · 7 years
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@machine-dove sent me a message yelling about my tags on this post and said I had to write the ficlet.
I’m always a slut for prompts, so...
The thing was, Steve would swear in the years that followed, he really felt like him and Bucky had been dancing around this for months.  They’d been best friends for years, for as far back as either of them could remember, but after the weirdness that had been middle school there’d been a charge there, a spark of something humming beneath the surface of their interactions that both excited and scared the hell out of them.  
Or out of Steve, anyway.  He’d finally gotten the nerve to admit - to himself and his friends and loved ones - that he had a thing for both girls and guys at the start of eleventh grade, and while he didn’t have dates of either sex lining up to ask him out, it had at least cleared the air between him and Bucky.  And when Buck had broken up with his last girl of the month, four months ago (not that Steve was keeping track), and they’d started constantly hanging out together again, like old times… well, there was a nasty little voice in Steve’s head that couldn’t help reading more into it.
Especially when Bucky insisted sharing milk shakes when they went out after school, or popcorn when they went to the movies, or letting Steve borrow his Varsity jacket when he accidentally/on purpose forgot to bring his own coat to the Homecoming game they’d gone stag to.  There was definitely something there, something more than Steve had ever dreamed of hoping for - but while one mean side of him liked to point out the possibility of his best friend becoming something even more, the other, meaner side always shut him down: making sure to remind Steve as harshly as possible just how delusional he was being.
Because Bucky, even if he was single, had never once expressed an interest in being with other guys.  And even if he had, Buck was so far out of Steve’s league that it wasn’t funny.  He was smart - honor council this year, top of their class since he’d first transferred to Brooklyn in elementary school - he was on student council, starting pitcher for the varsity baseball team as  a sophomore, a key player in every drama production Washington High had put on since he’d started there.  People were tripping over the opportunity to hang out with Bucky Barnes, never mind the chance to date him.  And Steve… Steve was just Steve.  Scrawny asthmatic with a chip on his shoulder, painfully average student and GSA representative.  He was a decent artist when people took the time to actually look at his work, and Bucky swore up and down that he was funny as hell, but for the most part Steve knew that the only reason he wasn’t regularly getting shoved in lockers anymore was because he was most famous for being Bucky Barnes’ best friend.
Steve was an idiot for even imagining that he had a chance with someone as perfect as Bucky, but he wasn’t so stupid that he’d go and risk something as important as their friendship by asking him out.
Besides, they hung out so often that Steve felt he could pretty safely pretend they were dating.  In the deepest, darkest corners of his mind.  And if ninety-nine percent of his schmoopy fan art of late was based on an AU of Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne as dorky high school boyfriends that maybe bore a little bit of a resemblance to the dumb shit that the two of them did together?  Well… no one needed to know.
It got more hits to his blog, at least.
That said, there were still nights when Steve’s stupid brain couldn’t help but wish.  So when Bucky had sent his text on the Sunday before the MLK Holiday, when Steve was already pouting about the fact that he couldn’t join him in their volunteer plans because his stupid head had decided to come down with a stupid cold, well… Steve couldn’t help feeling a little reckless.
Text from Bucky Received 09:32 PM
What do you wear to bed?
Steve had been staring at it for a solid thirty seconds, blinking and trying to convince himself that it really wasn’t the Nyquil that he’d taken earlier - that Bucky really was asking him that question.
He had to know how suggestive it was.  Steve had watched Bucky charm girls since they were in elementary school… he knew how to flirt, he knew how people took his words.  Which meant - he had to be flirting with Steve.  It wasn’t completely out of the blue, not really, but it still left Steve such a squirmy mess that he actually had to abandon his tablet on his desk and fall back onto his mattress to read it again.
Bucky had stayed over enough times over the years to know damned well that Steve usually just slept in whatever outsized summer camp t-shirt was cleanest in his drawer and either a pair of old boxers or ratty pajama pants; but he couldn’t very well say that.  Not in response to his first sext.
He bit the hell out of his lip, dismissing the thought as fast as he could, before  finally forcing his fingers to type out an answer.  
Text to Bucky Sent 9:34 PM
depends on the weather
if its summer just a black jock or smth ;)
He held his breath as the ellipses bubble appeared on Bucky’s side of the screen, rereading his response obsessively.  Best case scenario: Bucky really was flirting with him, and they could get it out of their systems the easy way… break the ice on a text screen, then make out like fiends in person the next time they hung out together.  Worst case scenario: Bucky would ask him what the fuck he was talking about and Steve would laugh it off as a joke.
He was golden.
He was really, really fucking hoping for the former - although as Bucky continued typing he couldn’t help but start panicking.
Text from Bucky Received 9:35 PM
k but what about like in the winter
do u wear warm pajamas?
What the fuck?
Steve actually started to type as much, but the rest of Bucky’s responses came in a flurry of messages.
Text from Bucky Received 9:35 PM
my mom is making me throw out my old superman pajamas and i kno theyre about ur size
i swear theyre not gross or anything
ill wash them before
if u want them
i just know u like superman and its dumb to throw them away
Steve finished reading the texts, dropped the phone onto his comforter, and covered his face in his hands because - oh God.  It was so painfully cute, so painfully Buck that he couldn’t help giggling, and immediately picked the phone back up to read the exchange again.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he took a screenshot and hit the share icon for his Tumblr account.  After a second’s debate he added the hashtag #Ur fav would NEVEr #This boy and posted it.
He rolled onto his side, staring at the screenshot and grinning like a crazy person… and then succumbed to the cold meds, finally.
Steve woke up coughing a short while later, blinking in confusion before realizing that he’d definitely fell asleep on top of his covers, with his damned contacts still in.  He reluctantly moved to the bathroom to pop them out (his eyes were already a sticky, awful mess, so leaving them in absolutely wasn’t worth how he’d feel in the morning), then stumbled back to his bed, groaning when he noticed the time on his alarm clock.
He face-planted back into his pillow, only to bash his nose against the cold, hard surface of his phone.  With a curse he moved the damned thing to his nightstand - then remembered how he’d fell asleep in the first place.  He knocked three books on the floor feeling for his glasses on the nightstand, but finally got them on his nose and pulled his phone screen close to his face, blinking in surprise when he saw his Tumblr app notifications.
With a little red bubble that read 1,000+ next to it.
Steve opened the app with shaking fingers, only to laugh out loud when he realized which post it was that had blown up.  He hadn’t imagined the interchange with Bucky, and apparently the entire damned internet was every bit as charmed as he’d felt.  A quick scroll through his inbox confirmed that at least fifty people thought they should get married.
Which… was probably jumping the gun, but was something that Steve couldn’t help preening over, just a little.
Text to Bucky sent 06:03 AM
I PUT THIS CONVO ON THE INTERNET
If nothing else, Buck would get a good laugh out of it in the morning, Steve figured with a giggle.
A giggle that stopped as soon as the blue check mark appeared next to Bucky’s name.
Text from Bucky received 06:03 AM
hmmmmm?
Steve - had definitely not expected Buck to be up yet, but he could hardly abandon the conversation now.
Text to Bucky sent 06:04 AM
I put this on tumblr.  U should see the responses!
It vaguely occurred to Steve that he probably should have asked for permission ahead of time, but it was Bucky.  And it wasn’t as if he’d said anything terrible - if anything, Steve came out looking like the pervy idiot.
Besides, none of their classmates would guess that this random Bucky on the internet was their Bucky: no one outside of their immediate friend group knew that Buck was such a dork, or would believe it in the first place.
Text from Bucky received 06:04 AM
is that ur art site?
Steve hid his grin behind his hand.  His art site.  Please…
Text to Bucky sent 06:04 AM
yeah sort of.  i post on it sometimes
it got huge responses!
more than any drawings :P
PS how old r these pjs?  if they r gonna fit me? XD
Text from Bucky received 06:04 AM
shit
Steve’s heart sank in his chest as the ellipse button appeared immediately under Bucky’s response.  He was in the middle of stumbling out of bed to retrieve his laptop to delete the damned thing when his phone chimed again.
Text from Bucky received 06:05 AM
i lied to millions of ppl on the internet
my mom isnt making me throw my pajamas out
i saw them at target
Steve was about to laugh and make a snarky reply about the ‘millions’ part (he had a grand total of five hundred twenty-three people following his crappy fan art blog, but Bucky always was one for dramatics) but the rest of Bucky’s rant stopped him cold.
Text from Bucky received 06:05 AM
they were on sale tho
i know we already did xmas presents
they just made me think of u
Steve’s smile was so wide his face ached.  The ellipses kept coming.
Text from Bucky received 06:06 AM
no they werent
they werent on sale
thats another lie
sorry tumbler
can they see this now???
Steve was dying.  Bucky was going to actually kill him with adorableness, and he didn’t even seem to realize it.  After smothering a squeal in his pillow Steve got his shit together and started typing back.
Text to Bucky sent 06:06AM
nope! no worries ;)
He gnawed viciously on his bottom lip as he typed up his follow up, started to delete it twice, then finally manned up and hit send.  
Steve was a lot of things, but he sure as hell hoped he wouldn’t ever be called a coward.
Text to Bucky sent 06:07 AM
i got about 50 message overnight tho
they all say i’ve gotta marry you XD
The emoticon, Steve decided when he saw the blue checkmark beneath it, was a nice touch.  If Buck freaked out now, he could just laugh the whole thing off as a joke.
(he wasn’t laughing while the ellipse bubble flashed next to Bucky’s name ten billion times in the next two minutes)
Text from Bucky sent 06:08 AM
we should prob start with coffee first
if ur feeling better i can pick u up tuesday?
is seven okay?
Steve stared at his phone for a solid thirty seconds, gaping in shock, before pressing the call button next to Bucky’s name with shaking fingers.  Seven was perfect, but he could hardly trust himself to type as much.
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