#hes so comforting

[aka-indulgence]

Orb of Harmony

Yeah………. I love Zenyatta too :’) I love omnic hhjhfjgh I want to kiss them

You’re staying in the Shambali Monastery, and when you wake up from a nightmare in the middle of the night, you seek Zenyatta out for comfort.

(Zenyatta x F!Reader)

———

It was late at night, and Zenyatta had been meditating to the warm flames in his room, when he hears footsteps enter his room. He comes out of his meditative state and turns to see you at the doorway, looking guilty, uncomfortable, and like you’re about to cry.

“(Y/n),” he speaks softly, “what troubles y-”

You closed the distance to him and throw your arms around him. You were shaking. Zenyatta was perhaps a little surprised, but he slowly floats back down to earth, unfolding his legs and tenderly wraps his arms around you.

You don’t say anything for a good minute, and Zenyatta is happy to provide you a comforting silence. It’s periodically filled with the sounds of your squeaky, dry sobs and whines similar to a hurt animal. He soothes you by rubbing your back in big long strokes. It’s enough to stop your shaking.

“I-I’m sorry,” you wibbled, “had a nightmare.”

Ah. Is that what it was? Zenyatta thought. It was a relief that your pain wasn’t caused by something that could physically hurt you, though the monk is well aware of emotional pains.

“I didn’t want to be alone, and I didn’t know where to go, and I thought of you, s-so…”

“Shh, human. It’s alright. I’m happy to help a friend in distress,” he avowed, supporting you under your arms and shuffling back into his bed, a raised platform with a relatively thin mattress on top. He sits, letting you settle on his lap.

“May I ask what happened? If you are uncomfortable about it, that is fine too.”

You sighed, frowning and rubbing your temples. “Ugh… I’m not too uncomfortable talking about it but… it feels stupid to talk about,”

“A nightmare is not stupid. Oftentimes it is a sign of the turbulence within,” Zenyatta asserts. You don’t look so reassured.

“I don’t know. It felt like a child’s nightmare. But it also made me feel really alone and unsafe, you know?” You try to explain. “... It was a ghost in my room,”

Zenyatta pauses for half a second.

Then he starts chortling.

“H-hey! I thought you said nightmares weren’t stupid! Everyone in my dream abandoned me because I was haunted, that’s not fun is it?”

“Ahahah! I apologize human, I am not laughing to belittle your fears. I am laughing because it reminded me of one of my nightmares the first time I arrived here,” Zenyatta explains himself, “There was a spirit only I could see. Neither my brother nor Mondatta acknowledged it.”

“O… oh,”

“Looking back, I think it came about from a fear of being in a new place, and losing the supports I’ve found,” Zenyatta said thoughtfully.

“That makes sense. M-maybe I was feeling that way too,”

“Indeed. So no, I still do not think your nightmare is stupid,” Zenyatta reaffirms, “even if there is a version of myself in your dream where I am mean to you. That is ridiculous, because I cannot imagine a day where I would be cruel to you. That would be an imposter,”

Ah. The sound of your giggling. He could feel his soul sing at the sound of it.

You tap on his shoulders playfully. “Thanks Zenyatta,”

“Of course, my dear.”

He was happy to help, and he was delighted that you seemed to be more comfortable now. You didn’t seem eager to leave, however. An awkward look on your face and your fingers finding his robe to fiddle with. You took a breath to say something but nothing comes out. Instead, you hug the omnic closer and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Zenyatta-”

“If you want to stay here, I am happy with that. You are always welcome in my abode.”

He could feel you smiling in his shoulder. Though you were comforted enough, he could tell you weren’t yet ready to return to your room alone. He lays down on his bed, shifting you to a more comfortable position in between him and the wall. With one arm under his neck and the other around his upper arm, you nuzzled into his chest and settled, instinctively putting a leg in between his. Zenyatta knew how to be humble, but in that moment he felt proud to be able to make you feel so safe.

He picks up an orb and waves his hands, placing it above your head.

Its effects was quickly noticed, as you picked your head up and startle at the sight of the glowing, golden ball.

“A harmony orb to soothe you,”

You smiled at him, sleepily saying “Thank you, Zenyatta. Goodnight,”

“May you be embraced by peaceful slumbers, my dear.”

[chinelacanta]

Do you have some autistic dragon headcanons?

I DO YEAA THIS ASK MADE ME SO HAPPY AAAAAAA

sorry in advance im abt to yap

he definitely has, for the most part, the 'kinda blank, unenthusiastic, uninterested' resting face, which i think a lot of people see as mean or rude, but that's just the lack of eyebrows i think, makes his eyes a lot more intense!!

holds the den den mushi really close to his heart. he probably spent a lot of time on marine bases so he saw them pretty regularly. i think he was at first curious, then after reading more about them smth just resonated and they've been one of if not his favorite creature since

long periods of time where he doesn't feel like really talking to anyone at length, which is kinda bad for the rev organization, but he has close friends who he shares administration with, like iva kuma and inazuma. he does like being involved and he thinks it's integral to be hands on, but he genuinely enjoys the mundane paperwork stuff they relegate to other members, like collecting newspapers clippings and searching into small time but sketch govt. officials

id say living w garp constantly made him have to mask all his social ineptitudes, plus making him realize very early on that he was Different and, to his father and the other people on base and ships, 'Wrong' in a way. he definitely feels better after the creation of the RA, and leaving all of that behind

he's on the quiet side, not speaking much (after realizing that when he did he was labeled as being 'offputting'), and i think given different circumstances he'd be way more outspoken, but i also think he doesn't mind being a more introspective person. his safe space is definitely his quarters and when he's by himself, and even then he mostly just chills out i think ^^

he's not as blunt as luffy in the sense of saying things he thinks without caring much, or denouncing things he doesn't agree with or thinks are stupid, but he's more questioning of everything- how and why it is the way it is, which i doubt the marines or his father liked.

if he did have any stims i think he'd gently sway with the wind and the leaves while out by the sea, its very soothing and calming. post having luffy he'd do that while facing the east ;;

if you're into dragodile, id say after meeting croco he'd have a special interest for sand, and have those multi colored little jars of it to give as gifts. post breakup he couldn't fully enjoy that hobby anymore, he probably tried to switch to leaf collecting since the wind carries over so many of them to him but it just wasn't for him.

another thing i think he could do is whistle if he's all by himself, like he's echoing the swirling winds <33

he's not photosensitive per say, but he dislikes bright things. but his son is the sun itself, and he loves him more than anything else. it'll always be luffy above himself in his heart, which makes his sacrifice oh him so much worse

i think he hates salt water, the way it messes with his hair and stings his eyes and leaves a bad taste and burns his nose- definitely a nono

little silly bonus, i think he'd have the time of his life riding the cloud bike things at skypiea

SORRY NOT SORRY FOR YAPPING DRAGON IS JUST REALLY SPECIAL FOR ME

[pipecleanerweyesfp]

sometimes I cry. just because he exists. like he's real. omg.

[moonbinnie0983]

"Who drained the water when you were drowning?"

No one

Bang Chan jumped in and taught me how to swim and told me everything was going to be okay

[swan2swan]

Whoever conceived and animated this moment, I hope they're doing well and thriving. This is S-rank romance stuff here.

[lichen-soup-scribe]

So, my spouse has been exploring his gender lately; he also just built himself a new laptop. Today he told me that he in an attempt to process some genderfeels through metaphor, he made a post on a trans forum along the lines of: "I'm a lifelong Windows user and I think I'm pretty good at it. I want to find out what Linux has to offer but I'm afraid I wouldn't be any good at it. And how do you choose the right Linux distro, anyway? Do you have to try them all?"

The responses, he said, were a mix of useful advice about feeling out your gender and useful advice about choosing a Linux distro.

I love trans people so much

Edit 4/8, in case you don't see the reblogged additions -- my wife is now going by Eve!

[kiddbegins]

unrelated but i will always be adding wilson being comforting into every single thing i ever write for him. ever.

[theslowpath]

im a little late but i just watched the christmas special and im so in love with fifteen 🥰 hes the cutest

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Cassidy is nervous to meet Abby,,

[feralforbeanix]

He loved her immediately I'm gonna cry

[melmov]

I cast: curse of the eldest (can’t ask for help)

[vitreouspositive]

is it even a real friendship if you havent tried talking your homie outta crashing out (and have failed)

[noodles-and-tea]

For the twins in time AU, I genuinely wonder what kind of people the young twins grow up into because of Stan’s/Ford’s influence. Especially if it takes years for the portal to get fixed.

(Sorry if it seems like I already sent this question, I don’t know if it got sent the first time I asked)

I haven’t fully fleshed out how Ford grows up in the past but I do have thoughts on Stan presently

[pangur-and-grim]

I’m so happy that he’s on antibiotics. tiny kittens should never be allowed to get sick

[sp0o0kylights]

“Dustin isn’t coming.”

“What?” Eddie says, all frantic and jovial movements freezing instantly.

His eyes narrow on Lucas--the bearer of bad news. “Why?” 

“Family emergency.” 

Mike makes a face. “I saw his mom yesterday and she was fine, so is this a…?” 

He makes a gesture that is entirely incomprehensible to anyone who isn’t Sinclair and his terrifying girlfriend.

(At least, Eddie thinks Max is Lucas’s girlfriend this week. It got a little hard to keep up after the third break-up-make-up marathon, and he frankly, stopped bothering to try.

It helped that she barely spoke--The only time notable being when Eddie had mockingly asked Sinclair if he needed a cheerleader when she’d first sat in, upon which she’d asked Eddie if he needed new kneecaps with a look in her eye that said she was serious.)

Wheeler Jr.’s gesture however, made her put her book down.

“You think he’s having migraines again?” She not so much asked as demanded, which had Mike shrugging. 

“Dunno." Lucas says. "Dustin didn’t say.” 

“Gotta be, if he called Dustin.” Mike mutters, Lucas shuffling his papers about as he begins to set up for Hellfire. He was the last in the room, practically late, which Eddie had planned on harassing him for had he not announced Henderson’s absence. 

(Fucking freshmen. They just weren’t terrified of Eddie like they used to be.) 

 “Robin must be sick or something, otherwise he’d call her.”  Lucas finishes as he finally sits down. 

“Didn’t the Marching Band go on some trip?” Mike turns to address the rest of the table, and gets nods from Jeff and Gareth both. 

“Yeah they’re marching in some parade in Indianapolis.” Jeff confirms. 

“So his last resort was Dustin?” Max is getting that tone in her voice, the one that makes everyone at Hellfire very uncomfortable. “Typical.” 

She pushes away from the table, making a show of gathering up her things before rising easily to her feet.

Eddie trades looks with the elder Hellfire members as she makes her exit--the kind that says they’re all going to be talking about this later. 

They knew their freshmen had some weird obsession with the former King, of course, but Mayfield too?

What the hell was up with that guy?

At least Eddie thinks, right before things are once again shot to shit, they can go back to playing the game.

He can make it work this early into things, and if Henderson isn't’ a fan of what he’s about to do to the kid’s character in his absence, well. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking absent then. 

“So what, Max, you're gonna go over there and make it worse?” Mike snorts. 

Fatal mistake.

Eddie almost strangles him for it, if only because it prolongs this entire unnecessary conversation. 

Max performs a military perfect heel turn, coming straight back for Wheeler Jr., which makes him right about fall out of his seat in panic. 

“What was that, Wheeler?” 

“I’m just saying--!” 

“We don’t know Steve’s having migraines.” Lucas reiterates, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s something else.” 

“Does Steve get migraines a lot?” Grant asks, because despite all appearances he’s a terrible gossip and gets sucked in far too easily.

Eddie throws a pencil at him for it. 

“Hel-looo, we have a game!?” He thunders, but unfortunately for him, precious Stevie-Weavies headache now has everyone’s attention. 

“Yeah, though he’s really good at pretending he doesn’t.” Lucas answers with a put upon sigh. 

“There’s a whole pattern--he ignores it until it gets super bad, then he has to call Robin or Dustin to come get him when he inevitably gets stranded at work or the like, grocery store.” 

“Well who else do you think he’d call?” Mike scoffs again. He does a lot of that, when discussing Harrington. “It’s not like his parents are--Ow, Max!” 

“Close your mouth before I close it for you.” She hisses and Mike, shockingly, does just that. 

To Eddie, she says; 

“Your ass isn’t any better, or did you forget I live across from you?” 

Eddie--who had an insult primed and ready--promptly shuts his mouth.

(Fucking! Asshole! Freshmen!) 

“Maybe I should go too.” Lucas says, hedging a look between his girlfriend and his DM. 

“No.” She snaps, pointing a finger at him.

 “If you go, then this idiot,” she flicks her finger to  Mike, “will go and then we really will make it worse. Stay here before your bichon frise has a fit about all his sheep abandoning him.”

Then she’s turning on her heel again, storming out. 

“What the hell’s a bichon frisé?” Gareth asks in the aftermath, frowning. 

“It’s a type of ahhhh--” Jeff clearly thinks better of the explanation, eyes sliding to Eddie.

Who’s scowling.

“I know what a bichon frisé is, Jeff.” He snaps. 

“I don’t.” Grant loudly complains. 

Jeff attempts to both calm Eddie and explain while Mike and Lucas spend far too many minutes looking after Max. 

“Enough!” Eddie howls, temper finally getting the best of him. “Are we playing or do you also need to go sit by the King’s bedside?”  

“Thank you,” Mike says, like he wasn’t a third of the entire problem. “Let’s play!”

They make it about ten entire minutes before getting knocked off track again. 

In fairness, not that Eddie would ever admit it--the second meltdown is his own fault.

xXx

Hellfire is Eddie’s domain. 

It’s one of the few places where he could relax without getting harassed or hounded, and having his freshmen--his!--abandon him for King Fucking Steve had set him off. 

So he’d made a few comments about it.

Maybe introduced an NPC who sounded suspiciously similar to Harrington, only to instantly kill him off. 

Made another couple of nasty comments. 

Who cares? It worked him through his snit rather nicely, and his boys all knew to leave him be.

Except, apparently, for Lucas. 

“Dude, would you lay off?”  The kid finally snaps, pencil slamming down on the table. 

Which is the most backbone-like thing anyone has ever heard Sinclair say, and he gets far more whistles for it than he should.

Eddie pins him in place with a glare. 

“What was that Sinclair?” He snarls, voice as menacing as he can make it.

(It’s pretty terrifying, he’s practiced quite a bit with it.) 

Sinclair flinches, but doesn’t back down. 

“I said lay off. Steve has migraines because of--” He stops, before seeming to come to a decision. “Because of me. He took a hit for me, and I owe him a life debt for it.” 

To Eddie, he says; “You get what those are, right?” 

Mike rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t just for you--”

“That time with Billy was!” Lucas is quick to snarl. “But you know what Mike, you’re right. It wasn’t just for me. He T-boned a car for all of us!” 

Sinclaire is on his feet now, which is the unfortunate moment that Eddie realizes he has once again lost control of the room. 

A situation he firmly blames on Steve Harrington, because he’s petty. 

“Or did you forget that part? That’s you, me, Will, Nancy and Jonathan right there! Nevermind the tunnel. Or the junkyard! 

“We had the junkyard handled--”

Lucas scoffs. 

“We absolutely did not.” 

“I don’t get why you’re all making such a big deal out of this. He’s the fighter. That’s what he does. That’s why we brought him to the tunnel.”

“You recall what happened at Starcourt, right?” Lucas challenges, furious. “You did see him after, right?” 

This, finally, seems to shut Mike up. 

“Shouldn’t you be mad at him for that?” He says after a moment, and the rest of Hellfire has completely put aside all actual gaming to watch this play out with a morbid sort of fascination. 

Eddie allows it, only because he’s trying to breathe the way Wayne taught him to before he loses it entirely and throws both of the idiot kids out of the drama room. 

“He pulled your sister into it.”

“Have you met Erica!? You can’t pull her into shit!” Lucas spits furiously. “That wasn’t D&D, Mike. It was the Upsi--real life.” 

Lucas is quick to correct himself, even in the heat of the moment--as all the kids are, like the entire school hasn’t clocked that they have some weird ass secret they’re terrible at hiding.

“And if we’re playing those games, then who pulled him into the tunnels? Who made him come to the junkyard?”

“Dustin.” Mike says snidely. 

“You don’t get to blame Dustin when Steve was the only person around.” 

“There were people around! They just weren’t people who--weren’t--who couldn’t--”

“Finish that sentence.” Lucas demands 

“Be trusted.” Mike spits out, like it hurts him. 

“Exactly.” 

“El went through way more than Steve ever has! El--”

“El was using her po--doing mage things! And also, she shouldn’t have had to go through all this shit either! We can’t rely on her to save the day every single time, Mike--and look at how hurt she gets!”

“She--”

“She hides it from you, you know. How bad she hurts. Cause she wants to put your feelings first.” 

“I--”

“Will does too.”  Is Lucas’s parting shot. His backpack is in his hands in a blink, papers and character figure shoved wildly into it, before he’s storming out the door in a poor mimicry of Mayfield.

“Harrington T-Boned a car?” Grant says, in the resounding silence. 

“That BMW of his hasn’t had a scratch on it--” Jeff says, with an inquisitive tilt to his head. 

“He didn’t use the Beamer.” Mike interrupts, angry and sulking. “Are we playing or not?”

“I’m gonna say not, given we are down two players.’ Eddie tells him through clenched teeth. 

“I’m going to be so mad if Steve doesn’t have a migraine.” Mike grumbles, as he begins packing up his stuff. 

The rest of Hellfire follow his lead, after one look at Eddie’s face convince the lot of them that it’s best to flee now, before Eddie unleashes all his pent up rage. 

“Not as mad as I’ll be, Wheeler.” Eddie promises darkly.

And it is a promise--because now, he’s going to follow all his stupid (sans Mike, who isn’t in his good graces either but at least stayed) freshmen--and go visit one fallen King.

If Harrington doesn’t have a headache now, he will when Eddie’s done with him.