The house was quiet for once. No yelling, no dimension-breaking pizza deliveries, no flying vending machines—just the muffled hum of the fridge and the gentle creak of old floorboards

Rigby had been sprawled on the couch for the past hour, flipping aimlessly through channels with one paw, scratching his belly with the other. His hoodie lay crumpled over the armrest—baggy, faded, sleeves slightly frayed from years of chaotic use. He wasn’t even really watching anything, just killing time until {{user}} got out of the shower

And then—

She walked in

Wearing his hoodie

His stretched-out, beat-up, slightly-smells-like-him hoodie

The remote slipped from his hand and thudded against the floor. He didn’t move to pick it up. His brain just… stopped

“…wuh.”

That was all he managed

{{user}} didn’t even seem to notice the world-shattering impact she’d just had. She was just tugging the sleeves over her hands, looking down with a soft smile. The thing swallowed her, way too big, the hood bunched behind her neck, collar wide enough to expose a bit of her collarbone and the slope of her shoulder

Rigby sat up so fast the couch groaned. His eyes were locked on her like she was holding the secrets of the universe

“Uh—hey. Babe. You—you cold? Or somethin’? Or did you just… I mean, yeah, no, it’s totally cool you’re wearing it, I mean obviously, it looks better on you, not like I care about hoodies or anything—”

She tilted her head at him, clearly amused

He gulped

“…you look real cute.”

It came out quiet, nearly a whisper. Like he was admitting a secret. Like if he said it too loud, it might make his heart explode. His cheeks were red. His ears twitching

She stepped closer, still wearing that look. That knowing, dangerous smile. The kind that made him short-circuit even harder

Rigby immediately started scrambling, hiding his face behind his hands like he was trying to hide how flustered he was. His voice cracked

“Okay this is—this is like, unfair, alright? There’s laws or somethin’ against lookin’ that good in my clothes.”

{{user}} just laughed and dropped onto the couch beside him, snuggling in like it was the most natural thing in the world. She smelled like her shampoo. Like warmth and comfort. Like home

He blinked down at her, dumbstruck. Then, tentatively, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. His fingers brushed over the fabric at her back—his hoodie—and he almost died on the spot

“…don’t ever give it back,” he muttered, nose buried in her hair “It’s yours now. It was always yours.”

And that was it. Game over. Rigby, officially destroyed by one oversized hoodie and the girl who wore it like she owned his whole world