#kind of platonic

[leckyes]

I personally believe My Blood by Twenty One Pilots is like Asher and David's song, it somehow fits ya'know?

#redacted audio #the song of achilles #David Shaw #Asher #Shaw Pack #kind of platonic

[vae1bixy]

𝐍𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭

When God created human souls he created another half. Almost like the other piece of a puzzle. There mere existence was to share the load of their half's struggles in life no matter how small or large. To comfort and ease the pain of the world. 

Despite what mortals thought soulmates weren't created for the sole purpose of each other after a soul is born it begins to yearn for its other half and reaches out in search of it. In some cases a person goes through life without a soulmate because their soul hasn’t been born yet or they haven’t met them before.

Those people usually live a decent life despite the phantom feeling of loss of what they never have in the first place. Not all people need their soulmates but Sam and Dean are one of few special cases. 

They are connected in not just souls but by familiarity the brothers both live through the same hardships in life and need each other to thrive.

The day Sam Winchester was born something changed inside Dean's mind almost like a switch in the way he thought. That switch went off the moment he laid eyes on the blonde haired baby in his mothers arms. He was only four years old but he knew he loved his little brother Sammy more than anything in the world and would protect him from that day forward.

And the boy kept his promise since that day. With his father gone more than he was around and his head only filled with vengeance for his dead wife that left Dean with the sole responsibility to act as a father, mother and brother to raise Sam and himself.

Because Dean himself was still only a child. But no he didn't have time to play with toy guns he had to learn to use a gun to put food on the table he had to protect and care for Sammy.

Growing up in such close surroundings caused the two to become closer than the usual pair of brothers. When one was upset from a nightmare or couldn't sleep, the other was already climbing in between the sheets to comfort the other.  

John Winchester missed many if not most of his sons' lives, always away on the hunt. Protecting other people’s family’s. He knew he wasn't the father his sons should have had. They should have been able to come to him with any need or worry they had but they didn't. 

They came to each other. Part of him couldn't be prouder. He was the one who pushed his son's relationship. But the other part of the nagging voice in his head was jealous that he didn't have the same relationship with his sons.

As the two grew older the shabby motel rooms grew smaller. Dean was becoming older and becoming more interested in girls and joining his father on more hunts and lessening his time with Sam. Somewhere in his head Dean knew he couldn’t hang around his little brother for the rest of his life but that doesn’t mean it feels any less wrong to leave him after all this time being together.

Sam slowly began to resent his father for taking away the one thing that's always stuck in his life. Throughout the different motels and schools Dean was always there. Fights between the youngest Winchester and John Winchester became more frequent; it was almost like the two were looking for a reason to argue with each other. 

The day Sam walked out the door was both the hardest and easiest choice Sams ever had to make. Leaving his father’s control was like a breath of fresh air but leaving Dean was like a sucker punch to his stomach.

No matter what he and his brother argued about before he left for good didn't matter; they both knew this moment was building up for a long time. Sam wasn’t going to go back. 

Over the years the two's souls cried in pain for each other longing to be next to each other again. Both men tried to wash away the need of being near each other by finding company in other women, Sam with Jessica, someone he truly thought he loved. She was someone Sam thought he would settle down with.

But Dean took a different approach by distracting himself with blonde hair women with big breasts more so than before.

Until Dean showed up in the middle of the night to pull him back into the family business he thought he escaped. But he should have known there was no escaping their life; his life was written out for him the second he was born. No not even then before he was even born. All because of their father.

Sam’s back hit the floor he could feel Dean's breath across his face and the heat his body admitted through his clothes. Being near Dean after so long and in such an intimate position was causing old feelings to resurface. Sam knew he needed to switch the situation. He was like a junkie going through withdrawal and Dean was his fix. An extremely addictive drug.

Dean grew up to control his emotions, an arrogant smirk barely seeable in the dark only for the moonlight hitting through the window and his voice low and husky. "Woah there tiger" The words rolled off his tongue like second nature. But he was just as affected as Sam was. After all this time apart all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around his little brother but he wasn’t going to give in.

Sam’s heart clenched in pain or sorrow maybe both then he became enraged when his brother revealed his reason for showing up after all these years. He was still chasing after their father doing everything he asked following orders like a soldier. He was stupid for thinking Dean had changed.

Their souls dance a game of chance. Who will break first or who will give in to their feelings?

#supernatural #wincest #dean x sam #new fanfic #let me know what you think #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #soulamtes #kind of platonic

[redysetdare]

Sometimes...characters being in a romantic relationship is worse.

#text #sometimes it's the most boring way to have characters interact #sometimes it's worse than the chemistry they have as literally any other kind of relationship #sometimes their platonic dynamic is better #sometimes their hostile dynamic is better #sometimes their dynamic is better if it's anything other than romance #because maybe them falling into generic romance is how you ruin their characters. #aro #aromantic #aroace #i only tag these because it feels relevant to why i feel this way

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

#i'd have like. five. which isn't a lot but IT KEEPS HAPPENING #stranger things #platonic stobin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #here we go again boys #i've had this floating in my head for a Minute and i was like #nah i'm not gonna do it #maybe i'll anonymously write a fic #but no we're mombin posting on main #i think on twt we agreed it's a 'what's the worst that could happen' situation #platonic co parents can be so so so personal #also i have One more stobin wip and then bg3 again i swear #when i have a baby i Will be putting my giant black wings on beforehand #they have to know what kind of family they're coming into #cw pregnancy

[lilpomelito]

Steve and Robin go out to a gay club in Indy one night and Robin ends up pissed off because even if she did make a couple of friends and connections with the local scene she didn't have as much luck as Steve who made out with like 5 dudes in a row. How come they're going to the gay places and her straight friend still has more game than her?! Turns out maybe not so much, since Steve spends the monday shift at family video talking how much he enjoyed kissing guys and how hot it got him and how it didn't feel like a performance—which Robin can relate to that part—so maybe it's time to keep experimenting? Robin thinks he might be going a little fast but Steve is determined so he asks if he should ask Eddie if he's down to hooking up so he can try having sex with a guy which sends Robin into another spiral because whoa, since when are you aware that Eddie's gay? (And shit, if she said it out loud to Steve does that count as outing Eddie?!) Steve says he just knows, the same way he knows that Vicky is into boobies (ugh, not this again!) and anyway there's no harm in asking. Robin's mind is blown when Steve literally picks up the phone and calls Eddie if he's down to fuck that night at his place. She's not surprised Eddie agrees. He might be even more of a masochist than Robin herself, really. Which leads to a very interesting night where Robin spends hours trying to concentrate on her stupid homework and not think about how her best friend, her soulmate, the light of her life, is right now having gay sex literally days after finding out "kissing guys is cool actually," when it took her years to admit to herself that she was into girls. And it's even more mortifying when a little after midnight Steve calls her—of course he does—and informs her that sex with men is actually so much better than sex with girls, for him at least, he just had the best orgasm of his life (good for him) and inform her that he now has a boyfriend. Honestly, what did Robin expect. Good for Steve and his simple, honest heart.

#I'm a firm believer that Robin and Steve are the kind of besties that share all the nasty details of their love/sex lives #well sex life for steve since robin is still trying to get laid #she'll get there don't worry #steddie #stobin #platonic stobin #platonic with a capital p #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #stranger things #the fruity four #mine

[munsonfamilyband]

I need more famous musician Eddie content where he’s still super fucking lame and freaks out around other musicians

Like, I’m thinking about the video of JQ getting to meet with Metallica and play with them and Hetfield asks if he wants them to sign the guitar and Joseph gets so excited about it.

Eddie at an after party or something and he left Steve (and Robin because she refused to not be invited if Steve was coming (he gave her a “job” just so she could come)) to go get them some drinks and when he comes back Steve is talking to Brian May like he’s just a normal guy. Steve had been talking to Robin about Dustin getting an internship at NASA and Brian May inserted himself so he could ask about Dustin’s job.

Eddie comes over, nearly vibrating, and Steve introduces him to “Brian, he’s an astrophysicist!” and Eddie nearly passes out when he shakes his hand as if this isn’t a member of Queen.

It becomes a theme for them at events where Steve makes conversation with these world famous musicians about real life things all while Eddie is trying to act like a normal person standing in front of James fucking Hetfield.

The eventually develop a way for Eddie to subtly signal to Steve that this is one of his heroes so that Steve can steer the conversation to music and give Eddie an in.

I just need more social butterfly Steve and his music nerd boyfriend Eddie who panics whenever Steve befriends a famous person.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #kind of? it’s mentioned #eddie will squeeze steve’s hand to tell him ‘steve holy shit this is someone i have posters of in my room’ #the day eddie meets ronnie james dio he blacks out for the whole conversation and doesnt come back to his body for two hours

[cowsaresushi-coral]

gabe loose paintings

#doodles #2024 #ultrakill #gabriel #v1 #suggestive #not really but i guess the first one kind of???? #gabv1el #can be platonic too idc #i just want them close leave me alone

[knifearo]

i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as a binary i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as a sliding scale of "less" to "more" i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as the only two options i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as significantly different things i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as all encompassing i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as the two halves of a shallow concept of love that doesn't actually encompass anything at all i think we need to overhaul every popular conception about "types" of love so we can talk about things that are real and true for once

#in conclusion. alloromantics stfu up about love challenge #hate using the term platonic so much actually. cause even if it has a definition that is what it Should mean #you know that people don't actually think about it that way. #you say 'platonic' and you might Mean an all-encompassing love. but how it's interpreted is shorthand for 'just friends' #so like. the word platonic isn't Really for me is it :| #platonic gets presented like a consolation prize for aro people no matter where you turn #but fundamentally rn it comes from a concept of platonic and romantic as the two kinds of love #where platonic is for family and friends and nothing More. #and romantic is for the relationships that overhaul all else #so 'aros can still feel platonic love!' ok. what if it's not platonic as you know it though. #'oh then it's romantic!' k but it's not romantic either. will your framework explode if i say that #'aros can still feel platonic love!' why do you say that like it's a second-best option and expect me to identify with it... #again. platonic might Actually mean smth i experience. but it won't be Heard that way. do you get what i'm saying #i don't experience 'platonic blurring into romantic' cause i will never feel romantic love actually. those lines are still blurring though #ummmmm in conclusion. killing and biting #aromantic #aromanticism #aroace #arospec #talking

[eloquent-edits]

🗡️ Casual kindness to cure the soul

small acts to show that they care 🗡️ fluff prompts

Character A refills character B’s water whenever they get up

B reminds A about taking medication (A often forgets to do that in the midst of strange activities)

A doesn’t think twice to move items out of the way because they know EXACTLY how clumsy B is

A slowly puts a pillow under B’s head so their neck isn’t strained in the morning

A can’t fall asleep without the tv on, but B can only sleep in total darkness, so A makes sure B has a sleep mask any time they stay the night

B makes A a small, discrete item to fidget with when they’re nervous

B keeps an eye out for collectibles that A wants and lets A know where to find them

Knowing A will be in a terribly boring work meeting, B sends A several memes to keep it entertaining

A and C are best friends and B makes sure C is involved in plans too (they don’t want to make C feel left out or like B is taking A away from them)

A reassures B that they don’t have to stay at the party if they don’t want to, the people there will be happy to see them whenever

A brings out a glass of water and a bigger hat for B, who decided the hottest day in the year was the right time to do yard work

B uses their dogs as an excuse to get A out of their house (“Arty is pouting because you’re not here… not for any other reason involving food.”)

B remembers a game that A wanted and buys it for them on their birthday (“I mentioned it once, like four months ago! How on earth did you remember that?”)

A secretly plans a fully customized gift for B with all of B’s friends

A sets a day and time every week to hang out with B, whether it be online or in person

A and B compete to genuinely compliment as many people as they can in a day (including each other)

#writing prompts #prompts #fluff prompts #writing #prompt list #imagine your otp #cute prompts #character dynamics #acts of kindness #flavor this in any way you want #these are all platonic to me as I’ve done almost all of these with friends

[bed-of-ashes]

It's the Etho & Cleo dynamic in Secret Life man

It's the "hi Cleo! :D" & the "hey Etho :)". It's the "no no no, you can't have her, you try to rip her out of my hands" & the "we're besties now!" It's the "Grian, give your heart to Cleo" and the "Scott, give your heart to Etho." It's the "can we go for Cleo last? She's having a rough day" & the internal monologue "theres no way I would kill Etho for hearts." It's the "I saw Cleo but I couldn't kill her" & the "I know *we* would never kill each other." It's the "I'm gonna fail this, I'm just going to protect you" & the "I knew he wouldn't hurt me."

The way he was the only one that remembered her hot & cold task without them prompting him, the way she joins in on his Bdubs shenanigans and builds a bedroom. How he's the devil on their shoulder but she's already committing arson before he asks. She doesn't tell anyone about his bed shrine and he joins them in trying to trick Mumbo.

It's the "I just want to die in my home" & the "right, they've killed Etho, they're dead now."

#trafficblr #traffic smp #traffic life series #life series #life smp #life series smp #secret life #ethoslab #zombiecleo #cletho #kind of? #platonic romantic familial whatever theyre just the duo of the season #amarambles

[craneworms]

i love how asl is like the truest representation of siblings in anime. they are like “like yes i love my brothers. yes i sometimes hate them for the smallest, stupidest things. yes i would do anything to protect them. yes we gang up on the youngest. yes we’ve all at least broken one bone while play fighting with each other. yes my brothers are most important people in my life and i can not imagine it without them beside me. yes they are my inspiration and i would trust them with anything but i would rather die than share a single french fry with them.” and that is so important to me. that is what true siblings are.

#one piece #asl trio #asl brothers #monkey d. luffy #straw hat luffy #sabo #revolutionary sabo #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #platonic relationships will always be so important to me #especially sibling relationships #like idk how i would survive without my sisters & i hate them & also love them #and i need fictional siblings to give of that kind of energy too

[punkeropercyjackson]

My son he has every gender

#neither part of the caption is a joke.hobie is a mix between a younger sibling and kid f/o for me and he's every kind of trans all at once #HOW THOUGH.I NEED TO KNOW HIS SECRETS BUT HE REFUSES TO TELL ME #hobie brown #unlabeled hobie brown #trans hobie brown #autistic hobie brown #spiderverse #atsv #btsv #the spider within #spiderfam #spider society #spiderband #spiderpunk #spiderman #spider manager #punkflower #t4t punkflower #platonically: #real self shipping hours #💌 #summerposting #gamerpunk

[i-got-da-rubes]

“Thank you for asking what nobody else did.

What not even I considered.”

Drawn with my non-dominant hand.

#fucking gave up on the last frame but whatever #uh #dear the person I am addressing #you know who you are #love you platonically #but I’m not good at accepting your kindness or putting my thankfulness into words #so here we are!! #also sorry your hot pink #you seem like you like pink #and again thanks #for asking me if I’m okay #I hadn’t given myself time to ask that question #I appreciate you #okay soppy time over fuck you man #onto the other tags #disability month #happy disability pride month #disability pride month #disabilties #fibromyalgia #AMPS #ganglion cyst #tendonitis #damn I collect illnesses like trading cards #vent comic #but like in a positive way #art #digital art #comic #rubes art

[theminecraftbee]

Etho's head is still strangely fuzzy, filled with something like a combination of cotton and bloodlust and hunger. He's sitting in the middle of their base. Cleo is tearing down the dripstone, complaining the whole time that Etho hadn't even built it right. Grian is fretting over his magma cube, even though his task is done. They both keep checking the door, and also checking on Etho as they wait nervously to find out if the apocalypse that had happened that past session was going to actually wear off now that the task was done.

Etho sits in the middle. The bloodlust and hunger is swirling around, sure, but the thing he feels most is the cotton. The fuzzy not-quite-there feeling. Something fuzzy and strange and slow, like his thoughts are made of syrup and death and safety, and...

And it hits him all at once what has happened, when Cleo puts a hand on his shoulder, tells him that they'll keep him safe until it wears off. The bloodlust and hunger are far away, replaced with that blank sense of safety. He leans into the touch. "Thanks, Cleo. That was all pretty wild, huh?" he says.

He doesn't really hear the responses. He feels Cleo's cold, dead hands, and even though they really shouldn't, they feel soft.

It hits him all at once. He'd say he's not sure how it happened, but he knows. He may have a reputation as cold, a loner, a survivor, but what he really is--everything he loves goes up in smoke, is the thing. Dogwarts, Bdubs, Joel, TIES--all of them, up in smoke around him, flames licking at his feet. It's nice if he can pretend he doesn't care. It's nice to pretend he's cold. That it won't hurt him this time. That he won't watch the smoke and fall apart this time.

Someone who doesn't know him, they might even believe it.

Cleo walks over to say something to Grian and Etho holds them in his vision and--breathes. The cotton isn't wearing off, but looking at them, he doesn't feel hungry at all. And he'd say he doesn't know how it happened, but he does.

It's love, all over again.

He wonders how much it'll hurt this time when it's done, but right now, he feels blessedly safe again. Grian and Cleo get into an argument. He watches the red of Cleo's hair and decides he made an okay choice, this time, for the thing that's going to kill him in the end.

Her hair already looks like fire.

He rubs his head and leans back where he sits. He should keep his mouth shut while he's still half-zombie, so that he doesn't say anything stupid like that out loud. He's pretty sure Cleo wouldn't appreciate it. Or maybe she would. You can never know, with a zombie like that one. That's part of what makes her perfect.

#secret life smp #secret life spoilers #ethoslab #a bee fic #I AM FEELING SOME KIND OF WAY ABOUT THEM OKAY. #you can read this as romantic or as platonically as you'd like btw #i am just. feeling something about cletho #and also about etho who has a REPUTATION for being a cold-blooded survivor but always seems to be attached to SOMETHING he loses #and loses part of himself with.

[python333]

bedbound — python333

— — — —

synopsis you're on a mission and oopsie daisy you get trapped under a building!! you end up in the medbay and tf141 visits you one by one, each of them giving you a lil piece of their mind for going and getting yourself trapped under a collapsed building.

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 4.5k

warnings pretty detailed (i think) descriptions of [reader] being in pain [specifically having a bunch of leg injuries], angstier than i usually write, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note this is my first actual fic ive wrotten in MONTHS so i hope its okay! so sorry if it feels like a majority of the focus is on the reader, i had a too much fun writing out the first part where they get crushed :3 i am also once again begging for requests. like on my knees hands together begging for requests. its the best way of getting motivation istg. anyway, this is all mild hurt/comfort and some angst + fluff so enjoy!! :3

You tried running out of the building—you didn’t expect the whole damn thing to come crashing down on you.

You’d just been chasing after an enemy soldier moments ago, dashing into the building, when suddenly the whole building seemed to shake. Then, the whole thing seemed to just collapse. When you think about it now, you realize the shake must’ve come from a nearby explosion, an explosion somehow powerful enough to damage the structural support of the building so terribly that it couldn’t hold itself up anymore and instead fell down onto you. 

Now, here you were, just ten steps away from the entrance of the building, stopped by the huge slab of concrete and twisted metal that pinned your legs down to the ground. Your earpiece fell off when you fell down, sliding across the floor, preventing you from calling your team.

Sure, you could try and move your legs, but the excruciating pain that came with each movement wasn’t worth it. You think your legs are broken with the way your nerves scream at you every time you move them, and with how uncomfortably and horrifyingly disconnected they feel.

“I’m making shit up,” You whisper hoarsely to yourself, ignoring the tears that welled up in your eyes from the debris and dust in the air, “They’re not broken. I’m making it worse for myself by thinking that.”

In the back of your mind, you remember that you’re quoting Price on that one, from the last time you got seriously hurt like this. You vaguely remember your panicked words and Price’s soothing voice that came after every worry, telling you that no, you’re not too badly hurt, it’s gonna be okay, you’re just panicking.

But in the forefront of your mind, all you can do is think about how you can’t reach your earpiece to talk to your team, the only thing you can do is listen to their worried voices.

The earpiece is loud enough for you to hear, even though you’re just out of arm’s reach from it, you can still hear your teammates repeating your call sign and asking how you copy. With the stupid Push-To-Talk thing, you can’t even just respond, no, you have to push the button on the side of your earpiece to unmute yourself.

You stretch your arm out just a little bit more to try and reach the earpiece, but when your leg starts to strain and your nerves light up you immediately give up, letting out a small, pained huff. You take a moment to just lie there and listen to your own labored breaths, every other breath hitching or catching in your throat.

You swallow down a sob that threatens to bubble out of your throat and try to reach again and—nope, that still fucking hurts.

You bring your hand back and put it over your mouth to muffle a small sob that climbs up and out of your throat, and try to take a deep breath the best you can with the debris in the air.

You feel a slight discomfort in your chest and cough, horrified when you see small specks of dust in the air you cough out, and God, the sight of it makes you want to rip out your lungs.

You feel the sudden urge to cough everything out, to flush out the dust in your lungs, to get rid of the uncomfortably full feeling you feel in your chest, but you know that every time you cough you can only exhale more of that debris-filled dust back in so now you’re trapped in a loop and—

“[c/n], how copy?” God, you want to yell at them that repeating that question won’t help, but you know there’s nothing else they can do. They’ve already asked where you are, if you’re okay, and how you copy multiple times, all of which got no answer.

They’ve only experienced radio silence on their end, and the thought makes you feel guilty for not being able to suck up the pain in your legs and just reach over to the damn earpiece and tell them you’re trapped.

You take a few deep breaths, trying your best to ignore the way you can literally feel the dust entering your lungs, and reach. You stretch your arm out the farthest you can, and feel the strain in your leg, and you’re almost to the earpiece, just a few more inches— pop.

A bone chilling pop rings through the air the moment you manage to snatch the earpiece, and good thing it was at least after you managed to grasp it firmly in your hand because you recoil back on instinct and gasp.

The gasp only lets in more dust, and you cough, wet tears dripping down onto your cheeks as you go through a seemingly endless loop of coughing out dust and inhaling debris and coughing it out again only for new dust to make its way into your system.

You stifle a pain-filled whimper and try to control your shaky breath, gripping the earpiece firming in your hand, looking down at it, looking at the sheer amount of debris on it. You bring your free hand out and wipe away the debris with shaky hands, making sure it’s clean enough to put in your ear before you carefully insert it.

It takes you a moment with your trembling hands, but you manage to do it, and you listen to Price ask how you copy one more time before you push down on the PTT button.

“Copy—” You hoarsely say, before coughing, everyone on the other line going silent, “Copy, not doing very well over here.”

“What happened?” Price’s voice crackles through on the damaged ear piece, “Are you hurt?”

“I got trapped under— under some concrete, and I…” You take a moment to catch your breath, “My legs are pinned, I can’t move.”

“Okay, okay,” Price’s voice softens, his tone becoming more soothing, “Where are you?”

“In a building— dunno which— which one… it’s by the really tall one,” You breathe out, mentally slapping yourself in the forehead for not being able to remember, “I’m sorry, I just know it’s orange and it has the entrance that Ghost bumped his head on—”

“It’s okay, I know which one you’re talking about,” Price reassures you, “Catch your breath. I’ll be there to get you out of there, okay? Just stay still, don’t move a muscle, you hear me?”

“I hear you,” You mumble, trying to catch your breath, coughing at the amount of dust that infiltrates your lungs. You bring your hand off of the PTT button and sob once, quietly, and sniffle to try and stop yourself from crying, blinking away tears.

The tears that trailed down your face earlier now only make you realize just how much dust and grime is on your face, how the tear trails must’ve been the only clean lines on your face, how there’s a whole layer of pure filth on your face and you can’t even properly wipe it away because your hands are dirty too.

The pain in your legs are throbbing and you know that you’ve torn some of the muscle in your thighs, and you know the popping noise had to have been your hip, from the unnatural way you’d twisted it to reach your earpiece. You don’t even have time to think about how pathetic you look when suddenly Price opens the barely-hanging-onto-the-hinges-door, looking at the floor for a moment before his eyes finally land on you.

He immediately walks over to the slab of concrete pinning your legs down and forcing you to lie on the ground and you can hear him faintly murmur, “Oh, God,” and kneel down to the same level as the concrete.

You turn your neck to look at him and watch as he looks at the concrete for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to lift it, before he simply grabs the edge of the concrete and, with a grunt and after a good thirty seconds, he manages to lift one end up and flip it over onto its other side. The circulation that immediately floods back to your legs and the sudden feeling of weightlessness you get is almost too much, and you can barely find it in yourself to feel shame as you let out a small, relieved sob at the sudden rush of blood to your legs.

Price immediately gasps and you can’t see much from your angle but in the midst of your relief you suddenly feel a pang of pain and oh God, that hurts. You can recognize now the warm blood that accompanies the drying blood on your calf, and with the blood rushing into your legs, more spills out from the wound in your leg. Vaguely, you can remember twisted metal doing something to your leg—stabbing it, maybe? Your brain becomes fog-filled; too hazy to think through but just clear enough to register the throbbing pain in your leg. 

“I’m so sorry,” Price murmurs softly, and before you can question him he takes the metal out of your leg and you let out a closed-lip scream, slapping a hand over your mouth to try and muffle the now uncontrollable sobs that break past your lips, the pain you feel making you light-headed.

Price quickly pulls a tourniquet out of one of the many pockets of his tactical best, wrapping the bright red strip around your leg just above the bleeding, blocking the blood from reaching past that point. He tightens it and rolls you over so that you’re laying on your back, making you stifle another pain-filled whimper. Without another word, he slips his arm under your knees and his other below your back and lifts you up bridal style, making you gasp sharply and cry out for a moment in pain, a few drops of blood making it onto the floor from your calf, the whole sight dizzying.

Being lifted up like this gave you vertigo—your head spun as you were lifted up and you could barely process anything with your hazy mind. Price mutters small ‘sorry’s under his breath, carrying you out of the door and quickly running with you in his arms back to where the others are, almost wanting to cry for you, seeing how much pain you were in.

Your eyelids drooped and your eyes shortly became half-lidded, and your ears started to ring, and everything was so overwhelming you just wanted it to be over. 

Price notices your eyelids drooping and quickly says, “Hey, hey, don’t pass out on me, you gotta stay awake, kid.” You can only shake your head ‘no’ because talking feels like too much right now and let out another small, pain-filled whimper, just the sound of it making Price’s heart shatter.

You can only find it in yourself to talk a moment later, your words slurring together as you try to speak, “I can’t— can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t—” You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, what you’re trying to warn Price about, but he seems to know.  

“No, no, no—” Price tries to beg you, as if you had enough strength to stay awake. Those are the last words you hear before you completely black out.

—

You wake up to a white ceiling and the faint beeping of a heart monitor. You move your head around a bit, trying to gauge where you are, when you realize— oh, I’m in the medbay. You blink for a moment before sighing and just resting there for a moment, trying to recount the events that happened earlier. You don’t have time to go down memory lane, though, because suddenly the curtains in front of your bed are pulled back to reveal your Captain. “You’re awake,” He states, closing the curtains behind him. “How could you tell?” He snorts and sits down in a chair by your bed. You look at him questioningly, “Where’re the others?” “They’ll be here soon,” Price assures you, looking at your blanket covered legs for a moment before looking back up at your face, “Medics said one at a time.” You hum neutrally in response to that and wait a moment before asking, “How bad is it?” “Your leg?” “Yeah.” “Well…” Price starts to list off on his fingers, recalling the doctor’s words, “The joint that connected your hips and your legs was twisted and it had to be set back to normal, your muscles were torn, your ligaments were torn, your nerves were so compressed someone had to physically massage your legs back to life, and the stab wound in your leg almost got infected.” “… Huh.” You blink at Price, before asking, “When can I get out of here?” “Why is that what you’re thinking about right now?” Price asks, confused, before sighing and answering, “Kid, your leg was basically broken. You can get out of here in maybe a few weeks to a month. Getting back to your assignments is a whole different story. It could take several months for your muscles to fully heal, and even then I don’t want you back out there for a while. Not until it’s guaranteed your leg won’t… give out, or something, out there.” You frown at Price, “So what, I’m just gonna be stuck here?” “What else are you gonna do with an almost-broken leg?” “…” Price sighs and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Look, I know it’s frustrating, having to sit here for a few weeks then be able to get out only to not be able to do anything too physical, but your leg muscles were torn. You were trapped under concrete. You’re not going on any missions any time soon. I feel like that should be kind of obvious.” You can understand it, knowing the condition you’re in now, but you still deflate a little where you lie down and let out a tired, frustrated huff. Price chuckles softly at your clear display of disappointment and rubs your shoulder gently before patting it and getting up. “I guess I have to let the others see you too,” He muses, making your lips twitch up into a smile, the sight making him smile in return, “But I’ll be back tomorrow to talk to you again, alright?” “Alright,” You nod, watching as he walks past the curtains blocking your bed from the rest of the medbay and listen as the door clicks open and closes shut. Not even a few seconds later, the door opens again, this time with someone walking faster to the curtains, pushing them aside eagerly. You quickly recognize Soap as he walks in, quickly closing the curtains behind him before rushing over and leaning down to hug you. This all happens so quickly you have to take a moment to process it, but you eventually hug him back, sighing at the warm embrace. “I want tae call ye stupid sae bad,” Soap mumbles into your neck as he hugs you, “but it wasn’ even yer fault sae I can’.”

“That’s the worst thing that’s happened all day,” You mutter sarcastically, making Soap laugh quietly. He pulls away from you and looks down at you. “It is, actually,” Soap says, and at your confused and mildly offended expression, he adds on, “It’s been over a day since ye got yer leg fucked up.” “… Oh.” You dumbly said, trying to process that. Over a day. “Everyone was really worried about ye, too,” Soap tacks on, refusing to sit on the chair behind him, simply standing by your bed. You stay silent, and Soap takes that as an invitation to keep talking. “I think that's the first time I've actually seen Ghost stressed," Soap muses, making you huff out a small laugh. “Really?” “Yea,” Soap smiles, “I ken. Stone cauld L.t, suddenly worryin’ o’er ye.”

“Isn’t that a surprise,” You mutter, a small smile gracing your lips thinking about Ghost worrying over you, “So you were all really worried?” “Very worried,” Soap nods, “Gaz thocht ye were gonnae die, poor chiel.” “Hm,” You hum neutrally. Soap stays silent for a moment before his voice softens and he quiets himself down a bit. “Try no' tae dae that again, aye? Ye'll gie the captain a heart attack," When you give him a pointed look, he rolls his eyes and adds on, “And me. Possibly. Maybe.” “Uh huh,” You look at him, unimpressed, “Right. I’ll try to predict when a huge piece of concrete is gonna fall on me.” “Ye ken wha’ I meant.”

“Never said I didn’t.” “Ye— y’know wha’? I’ll just leave then,” Soap says, feigning annoyance as he walks away from your bed, making you laugh quietly. He slips out and doesn’t bother to close the curtains behind him, simply walking out the door, not bothering to close that either.

You can hear him letting someone else know you’re ‘free to visit’, and just a few seconds later you watch Ghost walk in. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, seeing as Soap had told you Ghost was worried over you, but you still find yourself a little shocked when he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him. He sits at the chair beside your bed, and silently stares at you from the chair.

You stare back, not blinking, waiting for him to say the first word. You and Ghost’s silent staring match ends with Ghost sighing and speaking up. “How does your… leg feel?” “How do you think it feels?” You ask, deadpan, watching as Ghost’s eyes narrow. You blink at him for another moment before adding on, “It feels numb, right now.” Ghost hums at the actual answer and sits there awkwardly for another moment before stating, “Gaz thought you died. Or, were gonna die.” “I heard about that,” You respond, raising an eyebrow at Ghost, “Did he not know it was just my leg that got hurt?” “Hurt is a mild word,” Ghost mutters, before clearing his throat and saying, “No, he knew. He was more worried about all the stuff that got into your lungs.” “Oh.” “Yeah.”

You both stay silent for a bit, again, before you speak up, “So… are my lungs okay, or… ?” “No, yeah, they’re fine.” “That’s… good.” “Mhm.” Why is this so awkward? You purse your lips and turn your head back so that you’re staring at the ceiling rather than at Ghost, not knowing what to say. Why’d he even come in here if he was just gonna be awkward about this whole thing? It’s silent again, an uncomfortable sort of quiet that’s silent yet deafening at the same time—and you hate it. It seems Ghost hates it too, because he shifts in his seat, not saying anything verbally but you can tell by his body language it’s awkward for him too.

This goes on for maybe a minute or two, when suddenly Ghost gets up and walks the short one step between him and your bed and leans down to hug you. Like the silence, the hug is awkward, but unlike it, it’s comforting. A comfortable awkward? You tentatively hug him back and you feel his hands snake underneath your back, forcing his arms under you so that he can hug you properly. 

“I know Soap told you I was stressed and worried and whatnot,” Ghost mutters, his skull mask pressing into your shoulder, “… And he was right.” “… Did you think I thought he was wrong?” “Shut it and let me try to talk.” “Yes, sir.” Ghost sighs and takes a deep breath before continuing, “He was right. I was growing greys watching you passed out, and I think I almost passed out as well, hearing you were trapped under a huge block of concrete and got stabbed by metal.” 

“Did you ever find out what the metal was?” You ask after a moment, making sure he was done talking.

“The Captain said it was a twisted pipe.”

“Huh.” You lay there for a moment, simply enjoying Ghost hugging you, before Ghost speaks up again.

“I know it wasn’t your fault, but please, God, never do that shit to me ever again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m in a collapsing building.”

“I’m serious,” Ghost pulls away from the hug and looks down at you, keeping his hands on both of your shoulders, “I had to drive a car with you in the back passed out laying in the trunk with Price, all while not knowing what happened, and having to drive you guys back to base.”

“… Damn, you guys didn’t get a helicopter, or anything?”

“[c/n].”

“Sorry.”

Ghost sighs, “I’m trying to say that I don’t like worrying over you like that. I don’t like knowing that my kid is hurt, and I can’t do anything about it. That was the first time I was seriously worried and— and stressed over you, and it was terrifying, seeing you just passed out with dirt all over you and blood all over your leg, and just seeing you like that— I can’t do that again,” Ghost takes a deep breath, and looks down at you, trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see what you think of his words, but all you can think is, wait, he called me his kid?

“You called me your kid,” You dumbly voice your thoughts, watching as Ghost’s expression becomes more confused, and he opens his mouth to deny that when suddenly— oh shit, he called you his kid.

“… I did,” He dumbly says back, sounding surprised by his own words, before he fully realizes what he said and simply blinks down at you, not knowing where to go from here. You both blink at each other, not knowing what to say, before he clears his throat.

“I’ll just… head out then,” He awkwardly says, slowly walking away from the bed.

You take the opportunity to say, “Alright, dad.”

He freezes and slowly turns towards you and mutters, “Don’t call me that.”

A grin splits across your face, “Oh I will. Dad.”

He points at you with a single finger, “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“I’ll call you it in front of everyone. I’ll gaslight them into thinking we’re related.”

“God, you better not.”

“I will. In fact, tomorrow, I’ll begin with the Captain. Then I’ll tell Soap, he’s the next most gullible next to Gaz, who I’ll see right after you. Gaz won’t fight with me over it, he’ll just accept it, I know he will, then, and only then, will I tell everyone else. I spread it across the base like the flu. Everyone, and I mean everyone will think that you’re my father, Ghost.”

“That is…” Ghost blinks at you, dumbfounded and mildly horrified, “... terrifying.” “Yeah, I know. Pretty sure I got that from you, dad.” “Oh my God,” Ghost groans, making you laugh at his misery. He walks out without another word, being sure to slam the door behind him, making the poor medic passing by jump at least a foot in the air. You giggle quietly in your bed, waiting for the next person to walk in. By the time you’ve contained your laughter, Gaz walks in, looking strangely sheepish as he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him that Ghost had forgotten to close. He doesn’t say anything until he’s right by your bed and bends over to give you a nice, firm, quick hug before standing up straight again and clearing his throat. “Hi,” He greets you simply. “Hi.” “How’s the uh… how’s your leg?” “You thought I died?” You ask teasingly, ignoring his question. You can’t see any blush on his face, but you’re almost certain his face heats up as he looks away from you. “Listen…” He sighs, looking back at you, “Price ran over to the whole group, with you not moving at all in his arms, and a tourniquet wrapped around your calf. I feel like it was a bit reasonable for me to think you were dead for a second.” “Right, of course,” You nod, definitely not believing that he only thought you were dead for a second, “That’s totally why I’ve had both Soap and Ghost tell me you thought I was dead. They only told me that because you thought I was dead for a second.” “I’m gonna murder them both, I swear to—” He mutters, burying his face in his hands, making you laugh quietly. He glares at you from behind his hands and adds on, “Oh, you think this is funny? You having a laugh down there, knowin’ that I thought you were dead?”

“I think this is hilarious.” “You’re insufferable and I don’t even know why I try to care about you anymore.” “You don’t try, you just do,” You roll your eyes, “Don’t act like you have to actively try and care about me.” “You’re so snarky today, my God,” Gaz scoffs, “Wait ‘til I tell Captain Price about this.” “Alright, Draco Malfoy. You do that.” “I shouldn’t have ever visited you in here,” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking away from you, feigning annoyance. You huff out a laugh at that and that makes Gaz laugh a bit, though he keeps up his dramatics, continuing to look away from you. “You still think I’m dead now, or?” “Shut it, you.” “My bad.” “I wish they amputated your leg.” “No you don’t.” “…” Gaz can’t even argue with it, simply sighing and rolling his eyes before looking back at you, ”No, I don’t.” “I knew it,” You smile at him knowingly, making his lips twitch up into a smile. You think for a moment before tacking on, “Wanna hear what Ghost said to me?” That makes Gaz perk up and immediately reply, “Oh, absolutely.” Cue you both five minutes later, Gaz gaping at you while you laugh every other word, remember the horror on Ghost's face when he realized what he called you. Gaz covers his mouth with his hand, laughing into it, gripping the rail of your bed with his other hand, keeping himself up.

“He— oh my God,” Gaz laughs, trying to keep quiet so Ghost wouldn’t hear him, knowing the latter was right outside the medbay. He takes a deep breath and another before breaking into small giggles once again, making you do the same. After maybe a few more minutes of just pure laughter, Gaz manages to catch his breath and stop laughing, and you do the same. “I should probably head out now,” He says, sounding almost disappointed by the fact, glancing over at the closed curtain a few feet away from your bed. You nod in understanding and don’t say anything in response, making Gaz look back at you and add on, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow though, yeah?” “Yeah,” You confirm, making Gaz offer you a warm smile and lean down to hug you tightly one last time before getting up and walking over to the curtains, sliding them to the side and walking out, sliding them closed behind him. You hear the click open and shut of the door, as well as Gaz’s footsteps walking outside of the medbay and eventually fading into nothing.

#i want to let everyone know that i had to copy and paste this in CHUNKS #because tumblr simply couldnt handle my immense writing abilities #and wouldnt let me copy and paste all 4560 words :< #anyway!! tagging time #task force 141 #platonic task force 141 #platonic task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #cod #cod hcs #hcs #kind of but not really #captain john price #price #john soap mactavish #soap #simon ghost riley #ghost #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #hurt/comfort #technically #fluff #kind of angsty idk #sorry if reader sounds like an angsty teen #im going through something #i also wrote this way quicker than i thought i would?? #i havent written an actual fic in so long #and my last one was like #3k words max

[gravyhoney]

Guys watch Pacific Rim not for me, but for the gay rival scientists. Do it for them. Also power of love (Drift Compatibility). Also big robot. Also big alien. Also

#by power of love #i mean any kind #familial platonic romantic #literally any kind #there’s mostly familial in the movie #and the main two characters relationship can be read as platonic or romantic #it’s great #WATCH PACIFIC RIM #pacrim #pacific rim #mason posts #mason talks