#Platonic Relationships

[wermoewe]

This time it was you. This time it was your turn to have the memories of your lives together. From an early age you knew about your soulmate.

Their favourite foods (which varied from region and time periods), their favourite books, plays and music ( the list growing each reincarnation, but the old faves always there) and their favourite colour (always the same one). How they would react to encountering the thing they feared most. This certain hand gesture they did when they were enthusiastically talking about something or the facial expression they did when they were annoyed. You often felt that you knew them better than yourself.

Still knowing all that didn't help finding them.

Your first steps in kindergarten you took alone. Their laughter missing when you played with mud in the playground with the other kids. The memory of your life's three cycles ago, when you two grew up on the same street in the back of your mind.

You didn't find them during all of your school life either. It wasn't bad. You had friends and a loving and supporting family (this time). Though in certain situations there were flashes of past lifes with both of you in similar circumstances which made your heart ache. Living these moments without them hurt. It hurt a lot.

College was the same. No trace of them.

So many things and thoughts you wanted to share with them. It wasn't easy. The years flew by.

You put all your energy into your work. It distracted you from their absence which grew more and more prominent in your mind. Fortunately your job allowed you to travel through the world, increasing the chances of meeting them. And you were sure. You would meet them some day. Despair never crossed your mind in all those years. In all your lifes you found each other. This one will be no different.

----

You are in a country on the other side of the world. It's a later summer afternoon and the town around you is buzzing. Work was finished early and your host invited you to join a local fair taking place in honour of a local folk hero.

You and your host are part of a crowd walking to the fairground. All around you are people cheerfully chatting and laughing accompanied by the buzzing of the cicadas.

It doesn't take long till you all reach the grounds with stalls and an already big crowd sitting in groups on blankets and camping chairs. The whole thing is basically a huge summer picnic. The live music that will play later rather a side note than the main act.

You follow your host. Their friends are already at the grounds and have set up blankets close to the music stage. After a big hello and instructions you head for the stalls to get something to drink.

You saunter along till something piques* your interest and you get in line. You can't really tell what it is that made you stop here. But listening to your gut was never a bad decision.

A little bit to your side is someone with their two little kids. Both of them bouncing and chatting happily at the same time. You watch the little family. The kids are buzzing full of energy chasing each other, squeaking and laughing. Their guardian gently herding them and keeping them from running into other people.

Suddenly both of them squeak and dash towards a person approaching from behind you. Their guardian following with a loving smile that turns even softer when they look to the person approaching.

A few feet in front of you they all meet. The person joining picks up the smaller kid and gently pats the head of the other. Than greets the other adult with a tender kiss.

Even before this person turns around you know who it is. You finally found your soulmate.

You finally found your best friend.

A/n:

*please tell me I chose the right "piques".

English is not my first language and I wrote the story in one go without editing it. Therefore the grammar might be wrong. (You notice a mistake? Let me know, I will correct it!)

I lost steam when they reached the fairgrounds. Suddenly the writing got harder. (Might revisit the story and edit it.)

It annoys me that everyone thinks of soulmates romantically. As soon as people hear "soulmate" they think heart eyes, never ending romantic love, yada yada.

Best friends can be soul mates too. Platonic relationship can last through the ages as well.

Your soulmate has a family and kids? Heck yeah! You gonna be their aunt/uncle/godparent!

And yes the searching one is ace (in this life. Different life, different story.)

You and your soulmate are stuck in a cycle of reincarnation, but you managed to find each other every single time. In this life, you finally managed to track them down… only to learn they started a happy family with someone else.

[amethystarachnid]

So I saw a post on Pinterest and I thought it would be a good idea for a fanfic?im just gonna type it out and explain it after

Peter: im back from my trip i got you another magnet mr.white wolf

Bucky:cool stick it on

-

Tony: is that peters shopping list on your arm?

Bucky: yea

Tony: what the

-

Tony: Peter you need to stop using buckys arm as a fridge

Peter: Mr. White wolf said it helps him associate the arm with something other than murder

Tony: crying

So basically I was wondering if you could do this well not this interaction but like reader and Bucky are friends and reader is Peter? If that makes any sense?

STICKERS

⤷ JAMES B. “BUCKY” BARNES

ᯓ★ Pairing: James B. “Bucky” Barnes x teen!gn!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic, fluff

ᯓ★ Word count: 2.5k (I'm so sorry if it's too short, hope you like it anyway)

ᯓ★ Summary: Bucky always lets you stick stickers to his vibranium arm but had never told you why...until now.

ᯓ★ I hope I understood the request well, and I tried to make the reader gender neutral since it wasn't specified in the ask, hope you like it <3

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier fan click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language and this isn’t proof read

The hum of the compound is familiar by now. Machines whir softly in the background, the faint scent of coffee lingers in the air, and somewhere in the distance, you can hear Sam and Tony bickering over something that probably doesn’t matter. This is home—at least, as close as it gets. It wasn’t always, but things changed. The world changed, and you had to change with it.

Being here is better than being out there. You know that much. The compound is safer. It’s structured. Sure, it’s a little weird living with a bunch of Avengers, but it beats the alternative. When SHIELD fell apart, a lot of things got messy, including your life. No family, no place to go, just a kid caught in the middle of something bigger than them. Steve found you first, said they’d figure something out, and now, somehow, you’ve ended up here. Officially, you’re under the Avengers’ protection. Unofficially, you’re the compound’s resident stray.

“Alright, what is it this time?”

Bucky’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up from where you’ve been hunched over the kitchen counter, fidgeting with a fresh roll of stickers. He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking at you with an exasperated sort of fondness.

You grin. “You make it sound like I’ve done something bad.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Haven’t you?”

“Depends on your definition of ‘bad,’” you say, tearing off a small sticker shaped like a cat. Without hesitation, you reach out and press it to the cool vibranium of his forearm. It sticks perfectly, just like you knew it would.

Bucky sighs like a man who has known deep suffering. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“Because you let me,” you answer simply, peeling off another sticker—this one shaped like a tiny watermelon slice—and placing it beside the first.

It’s true. You started doing this months ago, fully expecting him to shut it down after the first few times. He never did. The first time, it had been a dumb impulse, something to break the tension. You’d been talking, and without really thinking about it, you’d stuck a star-shaped sticker onto his arm. He’d given you a long, unreadable look but hadn’t peeled it off. That was all the encouragement you needed.

Now, it’s a habit. Every time you see him, you add a new one. Sometimes, he’ll pretend not to notice. Other times, he’ll act put-upon, like he’s carrying some great burden. You know better, though. If he really hated it, he wouldn’t still be standing here, letting you decorate his arm like it’s an elementary school art project.

“I let you do a lot of things,” he mutters, watching as you place a little frog next to the watermelon.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite,” you say, grinning.

“Steve’s gonna be hurt,” he points out.

“Steve’s got enough fans,” you reply, reaching for another sticker. This one’s a smiley face with sunglasses. You stick it on his wrist.

Bucky glances down at his arm, then back at you. His expression softens—just a little. “Y’know, people used to be scared of me.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, adding a rainbow to his forearm, “they clearly weren’t looking hard enough. You’re a giant teddy bear.”

He scoffs, but there’s no real heat behind it. “A ‘teddy bear’ with a metal arm and a kill count.”

“Even teddy bears have claws,” you say, shrugging. “Besides, you let a teenager put stickers on you. That automatically lowers your intimidation factor.”

Bucky huffs but doesn’t argue. You know he won’t take them off. He never does, at least not right away. Sometimes, hours later, you’ll spot him across the compound, still wearing them.

That’s enough for you.

It doesn’t take long for the others to notice.

The first one to point it out is Sam.

You’re both sitting in the common room, Bucky on the couch, you curled up on the opposite end, sorting through a new pack of stickers you got from a store Tony let you raid on a supply run. They’re good ones, too—holographic, shimmery, some even glow in the dark. You’re in the process of carefully placing a tiny raccoon on Bucky’s wrist when Sam strolls in, eyes scanning the room before landing on the two of you.

His brows pull together. “Uh, what the hell is that?”

Bucky, who has clearly mastered the art of selective ignorance, doesn’t look up from his book. You, however, grin and wave. “What’s what?”

“That,” Sam says, pointing at Bucky’s arm like it personally offended him.

Bucky finally sighs, lowering his book just enough to glare over the top of it. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, man.”

Sam narrows his eyes and gestures again. “That. The stickers. What am I looking at?”

You lean back, admiring your work. By now, Bucky’s metal arm is covered in a vibrant mess of stickers—cartoon animals, little hearts, a glittery UFO, and even a miniature Avengers logo you’d snuck in just for fun.

You beam. “Art.”

Sam blinks. He looks at Bucky, then back at you, then back at Bucky. “And you’re just…letting them do this?”

Bucky shrugs. “Yeah.”

Silence. Sam stares, mouth opening and closing like he wants to say something but can’t find the words. Eventually, he just lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Man, you really are getting soft.”

Bucky flips him off without looking up.

You take that as permission to add another sticker—a rainbow-colored star, right on his shoulder.

Sam shakes his head, muttering something under his breath before grabbing his drink from the fridge and heading out, still looking vaguely disturbed by what he just witnessed.

Of course, Sam being Sam, the moment he’s out of the room, you know he’s going to tell the others.

The next one to comment on it is Natasha.

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, helping yourself to a bowl of cereal, when she walks in. She nods at you in greeting before grabbing a protein bar from the cabinet. It’s a normal morning, nothing out of the ordinary—until she glances at Bucky and does a double-take.

She tilts her head slightly. “Did you get in a fight with a Lisa Frank notebook?”

You nearly choke on your cereal.

Bucky, who is now used to this reaction, doesn’t even blink. “No.”

Natasha takes a bite of her protein bar, studying him. “Then why does your arm look like a kindergarten art project?”

Bucky doesn’t answer, so you take it upon yourself. “Because I put them there.”

Natasha arches an eyebrow. “And he let you?”

“Obviously,” you say, popping another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.

She’s quiet for a moment, her sharp gaze flicking from you to Bucky. You half-expect her to make a snarky comment or tease him, but instead, she just hums and says, “Huh.”

And then she reaches into her pocket, pulls out a tiny cat magnet, and sticks it to his forearm before walking away like nothing happened.

Bucky stares after her, brow furrowed. He lifts his arm slightly, looking at the magnet now clinging to the vibranium.

You snort. “You’re officially a walking fridge.”

He groans.

It only gets worse from there.

A few days later, Steve notices.

You’re in the gym, watching Bucky and Steve spar while pretending to be invested in a book. In reality, you’re mostly waiting for them to finish so you can rope Bucky into watching a movie with you.

Steve circles Bucky, eyes narrowed in concentration. He throws a punch, which Bucky easily dodges. There’s a beat of silence before Steve suddenly drops his stance, frowning.

“…Are those stickers?”

Bucky sighs. “Jesus Christ.”

Steve squints, stepping back to get a better look. “They are.” His frown deepens. “And…are those magnets?”

You bite back a laugh.

Bucky glares at you like this is somehow your fault (which, to be fair, it is).

Steve crosses his arms. “You’ve been walking around like this?”

“Yes.”

“And you just…let them do it?”

“Yes.”

Steve blinks, clearly struggling to process this information. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to reconcile the image of his best friend, ex-Winter Soldier, walking around covered in colorful stickers and fridge magnets.

Eventually, he just sighs. “You’re impossible.”

Bucky smirks. “Took you this long to figure that out?”

Steve shakes his head, clearly exasperated, but doesn’t push the subject further.

You take that as a win.

Tony’s reaction is arguably the best.

You’re in the lab with Bucky, keeping him company while Tony messes around with something that looks vaguely explosive. He’s in the middle of rambling about some new upgrade for Bucky’s arm when he abruptly stops mid-sentence.

His eyes narrow. “Hold on.”

Bucky tenses. “What?”

Tony steps closer, squinting at his arm. He lifts a finger and flicks one of the magnets, watching as it wobbles slightly before settling back into place.

“…Are you kidding me?”

Bucky groans. “Not you too.”

Tony bursts out laughing. “Oh, this is rich. You—you’ve been walking around like this? Just letting them stick things to you?”

“Yes,” Bucky says flatly.

Tony looks at you, still grinning. “You did this?”

You nod proudly. “Yep.”

He lets out an impressed whistle. “Wow. I gotta say, Barnes, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Are you done?”

Tony pretends to consider. “Nope.”

Bucky mutters something under his breath and turns to leave, but before he can make his escape, Tony suddenly grabs a Stark Industries magnet from his workbench and slaps it onto Bucky’s bicep with a satisfied smirk.

Bucky glares at him. “I hate you.”

Tony winks. “No, you don’t.”

You snicker as Bucky stomps out of the lab, now sporting a Stark-branded magnet.

Despite the teasing, Bucky never takes them off right away.

Sometimes, you’ll catch him absentmindedly running his fingers over a sticker while he’s reading or training. Other times, you’ll see him glance down at his arm, something soft and unreadable in his expression before he quickly schools his face back into neutrality.

You don’t push. You don’t have to.

He lets you do this because he knows it makes you happy. Because he knows it makes you feel safe.

And, maybe—just maybe—because he doesn’t mind it as much as he pretends to.

The stickers—and now magnets—become a daily ritual.

At this point, everyone in the compound has noticed. Clint, predictably, laughs himself half to death when he first sees Bucky with a sparkly unicorn sticker on his wrist. Thor, on the other hand, is completely unbothered. He takes one look, nods approvingly, and later gifts you a set of Asgardian insignia stickers that you immediately slap onto Bucky’s arm. Even Bruce, who usually keeps to himself, quietly asks if he can contribute and hands you a little atom-shaped magnet one afternoon.

Bucky grumbles about it, of course. He sighs dramatically when you press another sticker onto his arm, acts like it’s the greatest inconvenience in the world, but he never actually stops you. He never pulls away. He never tells you no.

And he never takes them off until he’s alone.

You start paying attention, watching him when he thinks no one else is looking. He’ll be in the middle of a conversation, his fingers absentmindedly brushing over the stickers on his forearm, tracing the edges. You notice that he doesn’t cover his arm as much anymore—not as often as he used to. Before, he wore long sleeves even in the middle of summer, like he couldn’t stand the sight of it. Now, he just lets it be.

That realization sits in the back of your mind for a long time.

Then, one day, you ask.

It’s late.

Most of the compound has already turned in for the night. The common room is quiet, dimly lit by the glow of the television, where some old black-and-white movie plays with the volume low. You’re curled up on the couch next to Bucky, a fresh pack of stickers in your lap.

You press a new one onto his arm—a tiny golden retriever wearing sunglasses—before hesitating.

“Hey, Buck?”

He glances down at you. “Yeah?”

You fidget slightly, turning the next sticker over in your hands. “…Why do you let me do this?”

Bucky blinks, like he wasn’t expecting that question. “Huh?”

You gesture vaguely to his arm, now covered in an assortment of colorful stickers and small magnets. “This. Why do you let me put them on you? You could’ve told me to stop. But you didn’t.”

For a moment, he’s quiet. His expression shifts—just a little—but you catch it. A flicker of something uncertain, something careful, like he’s picking his words before speaking.

Then, finally, he exhales.

“…Because it helps.”

You tilt your head. “Helps with what?”

Bucky glances down at his arm, his fingers skimming over the stickers.

“You know what this arm used to be,” he says, his voice quieter than before. “What it used to do.”

You don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

He swallows, his jaw tight. “For a long time, it felt like it didn’t belong to me. Like it was just…a weapon. A part of me that wasn’t really mine.” His fingers brush over the little cartoon raccoon you stuck near his wrist. “But then you started doing this. And…I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” you say immediately.

He lets out a short, humorless laugh. “Maybe not. But it’s…different, now. When I look at it.” He pauses, then shakes his head. “When I see the stickers, I don’t think about the things I’ve done. I think about you. About Sam rolling his eyes, Nat sneaking magnets onto me, Steve acting like he doesn’t get it even though he does.” His voice softens. “I think about now. Not then.”

You don’t know when your eyes started burning, but suddenly, it’s hard to see. You swallow thickly, trying to blink away the sting.

“Oh,” you say, and it comes out smaller than you meant it to.

Bucky glances at you, eyes sharp. “Hey. Don’t cry on me, kid.”

“I’m not,” you lie, furiously rubbing at your eyes. “It’s just—you just said something really nice, and my dumb emotions weren’t prepared for it.”

Bucky huffs a quiet laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Says the guy covered in stickers,” you sniff, but you’re smiling now, even if your throat is still tight.

Bucky shakes his head, rolling his eyes, but there’s something softer in his expression when he looks at you.

“…Thanks, kid.”

You look up at him. “For what?”

He gestures vaguely at his arm. “This. The stickers. Everything.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just grab another sticker and carefully press it onto the back of his hand.

Bucky glances down at it. It’s a tiny heart.

He smiles.

I'm so sorry if this it's too short I didnt know what else to add :(

[killingmyselfbutnotdying]

"Friends dont look at friends that way" COWARD. I look at my friends with awe in my eyes, my chest is filled with love, im glowing because i get to be near my friends. I look at my friends and i would give them my everything. SO SKILL ISSUE, look at your friends with all the love that you have

[gwaindrifter]

Spurred by a recent disagreement between my ex and I, I want ask;

If "other" explain in the tags, or clarify if something seemingly higher on the list is acceptable but something lower isn't.

I'm actually really curious about this because I'm wondering if my view on this is skewed for various reasons.

Edit: I'm talking about what is considered socially acceptable by modern society. I know it's fine to fuck the homies.

[heartbroken-stolitz-fan]

happy valentines day to all the besties out there!!!

does anyone even know how healing platonic love is?? it's literally life saving you guys. why aren't people making a bigger deal about platonic love??? we need to shout about it in the streets I think

[delphiniumjoy]

Friends with benefits? Yes. The benefit is I have a friend.

[polyquestria]

Happy Pride Y'all!

[xixovart]

“no seriously who did you choose?”

“i chose you”

grover and percy are the platonic soulmates. in the most literal sense possible. i mean, literally nobody in the world, including their respective girlfriends, will ever know grover and percy as well as they know each other. and not just because of their empathy link.

grover was the person who was there for percy the most. he helped percy transition from the mortal world into the greek one. he supported percy in tlt when sally was thought to be dead. grover was percy’s first friend. ever. it’s not fair how people keep forgetting that. grover saved percy’s life.

percy literally did NOT hesitate to save grover when he was kidnapped by polyphemus. percy tried his hardest to be there for grover while grover fulfilled his dreams of finding pan. percy and grover travelled through most of the labyrinth together. grover is the foundation of percy’s best traits. percy saved grover’s life.

there is no other friendship in any of riordan’s books that can compare to grover and percy’s. they’re platonic soulmates. there’s no one like them.

[shioriix]

OMG THIS IS SO GOOOD

I wonder how will the reader in the itoshi brothers x male reader view the snow after the fight of his older brothers there

NOYADE ❛ ❁. ━━ (n.) an execution carried out by drowning. / UN.

❛ ⟡. blue lock, itoshi brothers & male reader. platonic. wc: 1.2k

❛ ⟡ ━━ reader sure is going through it!!! , reader isn't into football ,, communication? I barely know her , more alnst world memories ,, reader misses people who he doesn't even remember , some wholesome moments with Rin & Sae at the end ,, reader, Rin and Sae no longer share a room. this surprisingly took a while （；´д｀）ゞ

❝ It's not the room. Not beginning. Not the crowd. Not winning. ❞ 𓂅 not, big thief.

You lay in the cold embrace of the snow, staring at the gray sky in contemplation. Your arms were slack and spread out in a starfish pose, having just finished making a snow angel. You took a deep breath, feeling the frigid air rush into your lungs, and it hurt as if needles were sinking into them. You shifted to your side, and the iciness of the snow touched your cheek, melting instantly upon contact with your skin.

You closed your eyes, undoubtedly exhausted from the events that had transpired only days ago. Sae had come back from his trip to Spain. You had been watching Rin practice Football from the sidelines after his match since you never got into it like your brothers, nor did you have the talent to.

The eldest walked onto the field. His face had changed since his youth. It was a sad sight; he looked tired. Despite his expression, you felt happy to see him. Next thing you knew, things went south. Sae told Rin that he had given up on his dream, and Rin didn't take it lightly. Hurtful things were said, and you were not acknowledged. Not even once.

You watched with wide eyes and a heavy feeling in your chest as the once fruitful relationship between them crumbled before you. It was cold, too cold. Your hands shook, you were frozen in place as cold beads of sweat ran down your face. You felt useless.

Sae had given you a single glance as he left, a look that sent shivers through your body. Your eyes burned with the urge to cry, but you didn't. You couldn't. Shedding tears was difficult and it was hard to think about it. Instead, here you were, drowning in memories of a fleeting past. The image of music sheets and a boy with silver hair surfaced from the depths of your mind, presented in snippets.

There were two others: one girl had black hair, while the other girl had the brightest pink hair you had ever seen. That was all you recalled, and it frustrated you.

The snow surrounding you melted into your winter coat, ruining the snow angel you had created just moments before. An itch in your nose snapped you out of your daydream, causing your face to scrunch up in discomfort.

You let out a sneeze, which made you open your bleary eyes. Reaching up, you wiped under your nose, cringing in disgust as watery boogers stained the sleeve of your coat.

You returned to your original position by flopping down to your back, groaning as you suddenly felt queasy. Footsteps crunched in the fallen snow as a person walked up to you. A shadow covered the lower half of your body and a familiar voice spoke. "What are you doing?" Rin raised an eyebrow at your dazed expression.

He had changed in these past few days. His outgoing personality had become more closed off and harsher, although not much to you. You merely grunted back at him, too tired to reply verbally. You raised your arms at him, opening and clenching your hands again and again to emphasize that you wanted him to pull you up.

Rin deadpanned up but did what you asked anyway. You stumbled a little as you stood upright as a wave of nausea hit you like a truck.

Rin noticed because of your swaying. He sighed out from his nose and crouched down, signaling for you to get on his back. You blinked and quickly wrapped your arms around his neck as he grabbed your legs to carry you. You buried your face into his neck, mumbling an apology. "M'sorry Rin-nii…" your voice wavered, even though you knew he didn't mind carrying you.

"Why are you apologizing? I don't mind." He fondly spoke, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He started walking back into the house, his body heat helping you stay warm. When the both of you entered he let you down and you took your shoes off at the front door. Once you were done Rin grabbed your hand and let you to your room.

You took off your coat and fell limply onto your bed, just wanting to take a nap and get rid of the nausea. Your brother sighed when he saw your exhausted state, he walked over and covered you in your bed sheets. He smoothed out the edges and gently tucked you in.

Rin nodded at his handiwork and went to leave, although he was stopped by your hand grasping his. He looked back and was met with your pleading face, "Don't leave Rin-nii… please?" you said, your voice slightly hoarse. The former's face softened.

He mumbled out an "Okay." and urged you to scoot over. He laid down beside you and wrapped his arms around you, just like he would when you both were little. You quickly fell asleep, you always did feel safe in his arms.

When you woke again Rin was gone, perhaps he had gone to his room. Your eyes darted to your phone that was on the nightstand next to your bed. Picking it up, you squinted when the harsh light of the phone shone on your face.

You looked at the time, it read 1:49.

It was late and your throat was dry, so you got up to get some water. You snuck downstairs as quietly as you could, grabbed a cup, and filled it with the refreshing liquid. You gulped it down eagerly and let out a relieved sigh when you finished it.

"What are you doing?" A monotone voice said behind you.

Your eyes widened, knowing exactly who it was. You quickly got yourself together and turned around to Sae, meeting his piercing gaze. Bringing up the cup you held, you pointed to it and simply said "Water."

Your voice was still hoarse even after drinking the water and your expression was slightly dazed. Sae narrowed his eyes and reached over to pluck the cup from your hand, and set it down on the counter. He then grasped your hand to pull you out of the kitchen.

"Get back to bed." He murmured, his grip tightening slightly as he felt how warm you were.

"Kay" you replied as you let him tug you back to your room, getting increasingly sleepier. When you both got to your door, he let go of your hand and turned to look at you. You looked back.

It made you nervous just looking at him like this even though it didn't show on your face, since you sported a blank face. But Sae knew he was your brother after all.

Sae reached over and wiped a bead of sweat that had formed on your forehead. "Sleep well." He spoke softly and walked away, leaving you standing in the hallway. You touched the spot that he wiped and an indescribable feeling overtook you, maybe he was still the brother you knew.

Whatever, you would think of it tomorrow. You walked to your bed and got under the covers, sleep enveloped you as you thought of your brothers.

The snow made you confused and it was now hard to look at because of the memories attached to it, you want to stay away from it. You were always sensitive to the cold anyway.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Just thinking about how both platonic! yan! Dick and Jason have a habit of laying on top of their batsis and crushing her.

just look at how guilty they are....

Masterlist

Requests: open

Dick is a menace. He's a full sized golden retriever who thinks he's still a puppy. When he jumps or lays on you to try to be all affectionate...he forgets that he weighs close to if not over two hundred pounds.

No matter how often you tell him he's way too big to do this, he doesn't care.

He just loves engulfing you in these full body hugs and cannot help himself. It's cute though, if you try not to think about your lungs collapsing on itself. He acts innocent by nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck,,,,but it's a ploy to then attack you with tickles which leads to play fighting.

I mean it's his brotherly duty to be as annoying as possible. Sometimes he just likes the fact hes stronger than you and can hold you down this easily. Rookie mistake to announce you need to use the bathroom or get ready for something when you're chilling on the couch. He will trap you until the last possible second.

As much as you complain and cry, don't mind it too much. It's nice to be apart of a real family like this and Dick is trying to show his love by playing.

Jason on the other hand is just kind of clueless about the fact he's crushing you. You're sitting on the couch and Jason comes home after a long night and sees a perfect napping spot..

You don't really want to tell him that he's wayyy too big to just plop down on you like that because it's nice that he's feeling safe enough to just do these things now.

He also is like a big dog. He does that big huff and occasional twitching in his sleep. lol

Sometimes you'll also fall asleep right with him because he's basically a human weighted blanket. You'll eventually wake to him looking up at you. It's subtle but there's a soft smile there. He's happy you feel safe too.

I like to think he desperately wants to be held sometimes but he doesn't know that he needs it or even how to ask so he just does it. You naturally wrap your arms around and rest them on him anyways. He's like a little kid when he does this. It heals something inside of him. His cold un-dead body, finally feeling an ounce of fuzzy warmth.

Do you think sometimes Jason will pull a snack or something out of his pocket. Like he lays on you but then pulls out a jolly rancher as an offering. lol. One moment he's sleeping and the next you can feel him munching on something crunchy.

[imreallyonthishellsite]

People with siblings or know a pair of siblings I've got a question for you

the other day I had a conversation with a guy who said sibling friendships don't really count bc that's family and I'm just like, ??? yeah that's my family but I can also like my sister as a person and have a friendship with her. So I'm just curious to see what the general vibe here is.

btw the "it's complicated" option is for ppl who are either estranged siblings, parenting their siblings, or some other issue they've got going on not any weird freak shit(ifkyk)

Anyways choose your option and if want you can explain in the tags

[spitefularoandbi]

"There's no platonic explanation for this."

I genuinely worry about some of yalls friendships.

[strangepersonhere]

I want to be someone's special person. Like. I wanna be the one you tell everything to. The one you think off when you see stupid cute videos. The one you talk about when people ask you about your partner.

I want an emotional connexion. Not someone to be in love with. Someone that don't drain me. Someone that put me first the way i put them first. I don't care if it's a qpr (queer platonic relationship) , a relationship or a friendship.

I don't want to be scared that you'll leave for someone you're in love with.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Home in the Chaos

Word Count: 1024

Warnings: None

Sonic the Hedgehog x Fem! Reader

Note- You are human for this one, and their relationship is more platonic. Also this takes place during the movie timeline!

Also yall should check our our latest poll ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The cozy living room of the Wachowski household was a whirlwind of activity. Knuckles, Tails, and Sonic were abuzz with energy as you tried to keep up. As Jojo’s babysitter and the honorary fourth member of this ragtag group, your days were anything but ordinary. Between Tails' tech experiments, Knuckles' newfound obsession with braiding, and Sonic's endless antics, you often found yourself being pulled in every direction.

Today was no different. Knuckles sat behind you on the couch, his large hands clumsily attempting to braid your hair with an intensity that could rival a championship match. "I do not understand why humans have so much hair," he grumbled, his brows furrowed. "It is like battling a wild beast."

You laughed, glancing over at Tails, who was sprawled out in front of you as you gently brushed his fluffy tails. "It's not that bad, Knuckles. And Tails, hold still—you keep twitching!"

“Does this hurt?” you asked, pulling through a particularly stubborn knot.

Tails winced slightly but shook his head. “Nope! Just tickles a little. But thanks for helping—I’ve been meaning to take better care of them. Gotta stay aerodynamic, you know?”

Knuckles, sitting behind you on the couch, furrowed his brow in concentration as he fumbled with a section of your hair. “Braiding is no simple task,” he declared, his tone serious. 

You laughed, glancing over your shoulder. “You’re doing great, Knux. Just… maybe don’t pull so tight?”

“Noted,” he said solemnly, adjusting his grip.

Across the room, Sonic was perched on the armrest of the couch, tapping his foot impatiently. “Hey, Y/N,” he called, leaning forward. “when you’re done playing hairdresser, how about we do something fun? I’ve got this really cool idea we should try—”

 “Just a minute, Sonic,” you said, not looking up from Tails’ fur.

Sonic froze mid-step, the ball caught in his gloved hand. His ears drooped slightly as he flopped onto the armrest of the couch, kicking his legs lazily. “Sure. No rush,” he muttered, but the slump in his posture betrayed his disappointment.

Knuckles glanced at Sonic, his crimson face betraying a rare flicker of sympathy. “The blue one grows restless. Perhaps we should take him on a hunt?”

“A hunt for what, Knuckles?” Tails asked, clearly amused.

Knuckles puffed out his chest. “For purpose!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Maybe we’ll plan something after I finish here, okay?”

...

As the day wore on, you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing sandwiches and snacks for everyone. The kitchen was warm and alive, the aroma of freshly chopped herbs mingling with the distant hum of conversation and laughter spilling in from the living room. Tails’ excited rambling about his latest gadget punctuated Knuckles’ booming declarations, and every now and then, a peal of laughter rippled through the air. It was the kind of noise that made the house feel less like walls and more like a heart—beating, alive, and full.

Sonic lingered near the counter, his hand idly drumming against its edge. His usual easy grin was there, but you noticed the subtle edge to it—like he was trying to hold something back.

“Need help?” he asked casually, though the slight upward tilt of his voice betrayed him.

“Sure,” you replied, pointing toward the stack of plates. “Can you grab those for me?”

In a flash, he zipped across the room, the plates balanced precariously in his arms as he stopped so close that you had to catch yourself against the counter.

“Whoa!” you exclaimed, your laugh breaking the momentary surprise.

“Sorry!” Sonic said quickly, his ears flattening as he shuffled back a step. His usual cocky demeanor faltered, replaced by a sheepish glance your way.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, your laugh softening. “Just… maybe slow down a bit?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his hand brushing over the white band of his glove. “Yeah… sorry,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

Sonic hopped onto one of the kitchen chairs, the bounce in his step noticeably missing. He swung his legs slightly, his eyes avoiding yours as he fiddled with his gloves, the silence settling between you.

“You alright?” you asked, tilting your head to get a better look at his face.

He hesitated, his fingers pausing mid-fidget. “It’s just… I don’t know,” he began, his voice low and uncertain. “I guess I feel like I’m kinda… left out sometimes.”

The confession hit you like a weight, and you felt your chest tighten. Setting the knife down, you pulled a chair next to him, your movement slow and deliberate.

“Sonic, I’m so sorry,” you said softly, your hand resting gently on his arm. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

He shrugged, though the gesture lacked its usual confidence. When he finally looked at you, his green eyes were unguarded, vulnerable in a way that felt rare and precious.

“I know you don’t mean to,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… Tails has all his gadgets, and Knuckles has his whole ‘warrior thing.’ Sometimes it feels like… like I don’t really fit anywhere.”

The ache in his words settled heavily in the space between you. You leaned forward, squeezing his arm gently.

“Sonic,” you said, your voice firm yet kind, “you’re just as important as Tails and Knuckles. You don’t have to have gadgets or a warrior thing to matter. You’re you. And I care about you—just as much as them. You’re family to me.”

He blinked, his eyes wide as if the words caught him off guard. Slowly, a small, genuine smile spread across his face.

“Really?” he asked, his voice tentative but hopeful.

“Really,” you affirmed with a nod. “And families? They don’t pick favorites.”

He grinned then, the kind of grin that made his eyes light up and the room feel just a bit brighter. Without a word, he leaned in, wrapping his arms around you in a hug that was both spontaneous and deeply sincere.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

You hugged him back, your hand rubbing small circles on his back. “Anytime, Blue Blur,” you replied, your smile mirroring his.

[cumtastiics]

"you can't. you- you can't just waltz back into my life, as if you didn't ignore me for almost all of it," your nails dug into your palm, nearly drawing blood from them.

"i can do whatever the hell i want, kid," jason took a step forward, pointing at you as he began to speak again. "just cause' what? i didn't hang out with you once or twice doesn't mean you get to act like a brat."

"once or twice? let's try 10 years instead!" you argued, taking a step forward, pushing his shoulder, glaring.

━━━━ yandere batfam x neglected reader snippet━━