✨ Anakin says, Happy Star Wars Day!! 🌟 May The Fourth Be With You!! 💫⭐️🌟✨

May 4th hit the internet like a hyperspace jump.

By breakfast, Wells’ feed was already buried under the usual flood: glowing swords, starship edits, helmet memes, dramatic quotes, and every bro, fan, and casual poster repeating the same line.

May the Force be with you.

Wells sat on the edge of his couch in his gold kit, phone in hand, thumb scrolling through post after post.

“Force. Force. Force,” he muttered, smirking. “Yeah, alright, bros. We get it.”

He had nothing against space wizards. He respected the commitment. But after the tenth identical meme and the twentieth lightsaber joke, something in Wells’ brain clicked into mischief mode.

He looked across the room.

On the chair beside his closet sat a long coat, a floppy hat, and one absurdly long striped scarf he had bought years ago for a costume party and never found the right excuse to wear again.

Until now.

Wells grinned.

“May the Fourth be with you.”

Ten minutes later, the Golden Bro had transformed.

The shiny gold was still there underneath, because Wells was still Wells, but now it was buried under chaotic vintage genius: the long brown coat, the oversized scarf wrapped around his neck and trailing nearly to the floor, the hat tilted just wrong enough to look perfect. He checked himself in the mirror and laughed.

He did not look like a Jedi.

He looked like a time-traveling lunatic who had wandered into the Golden Army locker room, stolen the confidence of every bro inside, and decided the universe was now his problem.

Perfect.

Wells grabbed his phone, struck a dramatic pose, raised one eyebrow, and snapped the selfie. The scarf filled half the frame. His grin did the rest.

Then he opened the Golden Bros group chat.

The messages were already flying.

May the Force be with you, bros! Star Wars Day gains! Lightsaber leg day! Gold side of the Force only!

Wells uploaded the selfie.

Under it, he typed one line:

May the Fourth be with you.

For three seconds, the chat went silent.

Then it exploded.

Laughing reactions. Confused replies. Someone asked why Wells looked like a professor who got lost in space. Someone else called him “Doctor Bro.” Trey declared it the dumbest joke of the day, then immediately saved the picture. Alton sent back only one word:

Legend.

Wells leaned back, satisfied.

Star Wars Day could keep its Force.

Today, Wells had claimed the Fourth.

And somewhere between the scarf, the grin, and the worst pun he had ever proudly committed to the group chat, the Golden Bros found a new May 4th tradition.

Because any bro could say the line.

But only Wells could make it this dumb, this golden, and this unforgettable.

“The child, whether yours or not, is a Nightbrother, conceived for the purpose of serving the sisterhood as a warrior and slave.”

Palpatine to Kycina from "Darth Plagueis" // Chapter 15

Happy May the 4th!

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1 more day to go!

Tomorrow is May 4 or Star Wars Day. Today is May 3. Stay hidden today, Jedi. May the 3rd Sister never find you.