#lilyrosethedreamer

For my buddy LilyRosetheDreamer because she is the sweetest bean who deserves amazing things~

Leave a “Quiet Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character trying to calm another down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]

“Look, love, you need to calm down.”

“Calm down?” Bulma snarled. “Calm down?”

Jeice held up his hands placatingly. “In my defense, I just wanted to know if we were out of that macaroni dish your mom made.”

“So, what, you decide to not only barge in on me in the shower--which would scare the hell out of anyone who didn’t hang out with murder-aliens on a daily basis, by the way, so nice job there--but you rip half of it out of the fucking wall!” She gestured behind her at the ruined bathroom, clutching her hastily thrown on robe around her with her other hand. “Why the hell did you decide that was clearly the best course of action?!”

hey!!!! thank you so much this means a whole lot to me?? im still not sure about how i draw him sometimes so this always is so so nice to hear :’)) please have!! this hanzo i drew to get back into art i hope you like it!!!

(I have no idea what kind of warnings to put on this…but suffice it to say it’s not nice. This is the Suffering Broly.)

Broly scrubbed intently atthe top of one of the tables. Whoever had been at it last had somehow managedto get something gross and sticky all over half of it, and then left it fornearly an hour while they used the cafe’s WiFi. He had a bucket of soapy waternext to his foot and a once-clean cloth in his hand and a thousand curse wordsin his head.

Itwas one of his off days, and he knew that, and he was doing his best to workaround it. Chi-Chi was always very understanding of his off days, letting him avoidinteractions with people as much as possible. He was grateful to her for that.Other jobs he’d held before hadn’t been so accommodating. But even though heknew it was an off day, he knew little things were going to get to him evenharder, he still struggled to remind himself that every little thing thathappened wasn’t a personal slight. Seeing Goku that morning on his way to the dojo hadn’t helped, either. He still wasn’t sure what it was about Chi-Chi’s husband, but he always seemed to set Broly’s teeth on edge.

“Thanks for getting that.” Maza popped up next to him, her smile a little more nervous than usual. He knew he was practically radiating negative energy, but he couldn’t do much about it. He shrugged sullenly at her. “No, seriously, thanks,” she said. She started to pat him on the shoulder, then paused and stepped away again. “I can handle the rest. When you’re done that table, you can go on break if you need to! I’ll let Cheech know.”

He hated this. He hated how everyone walked on eggshells around him, how they treated him like he was a bomb made of spun glass. Maza never acted like this around him. She’d give him a friendly pat on the arm, a giant grin, a chirpy thanks, maybe a passive-aggressive comment or two about rude customers. Not this…this uncomfortableness. Something in him twisted and he squeezed the rag tighter.

“Bro?” Maza’s voice sounded far away. “You okay?”

Broly threw the rag down and stormed into the back room. His brain felt like it was going haywire, his vision fuzzy and his heart rate skyrocketing. He wanted to scream, to punch the tiled floor until his hands were broken and bleeding, to just start running and maybe never come back. Everything hurt, everything was wrong, and he knew it was his garbage brain being garbage but in that moment it didn’t matter, it was the worst he’d ever felt.

He grabbed for the necklace he kept hidden under his shirt, the one his father had given him to help with times like this. The small chunk of crystal was dwarfed by his huge, sweaty hand, but he clutched it like a lifeline and squeezed his eyes shut. He dug his other hand into his hair and pulled, hoping to ground himself with pain. His breath came in short gasps, and if he didn’t pull himself under control soon he’d be hyperventilating.

Broly leaned back against the wall. The bumps and edges of his crystal dug into his palm. He wanted to go home. He wanted his father. He didn’t want to stay here anymore. If he did he’d be sick. His crystal wasn’t working and he was going to lose his mind.

Cool hands wrapped around his hand that held the crystal. Broly flinched back and the hands followed. Someone was talking quietly, a soft murmur of comfort. It was Chi-Chi. Her words were distant, but comforting, and they gave him something to focus on besides his wild heartbeat. One of her hands came up to disentangle his hand from his hair and he let her.

Without thinking, he threw his arms around her and buried his face in the top of her head, a sob wracking his body. Her hands patted his back and she kept talking, quiet reassurances and soft comfort. When he stopped shaking, she patted his arm. “Do you want to go back to your shift?” she asked. He nodded. The worst of it was over. He’d be in a bad mood for the rest of the day, but he’d be alright. “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. Can I move back now?”

Nodding, Broly released her and stepped back. Chi-Chi smiled up at him. “Feeling better?”

He hesitated, then decided to be honest. “No,” he said. “But well enough.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure you don’t need to go home?”

“Yes.” He wiped his face. Now that the moment was over, he was embarrassed by the whole thing. He’d basically cried all over his boss over nothing. His father would call him weak if he ever found out. “Please don’t tell my father.”

Chi-Chi blinked. “I…wasn’t going to.” She squeezed his hand and stepped back again. “I’m going out front. You can stay back here and work on decorating cookies, if you like.” Broly perked up. Icing the cookies was always a calming activity for him. “Let me know if you need me again, okay?”

He nodded. “I’m–thank you. Don’t tell Father.”

“I won’t.” She gave him one last smile before turning and moving towards the door. “Tell me if you need to go home.”

Hanzo understood all too well why most of the others kept their distance. For many of them, they had been Genji’s friends and allies first, and meeting the man who forced Genji to become what he is…Hanzo would hate himself too, if he were them. Most days he still did.

The cowboy and the doctor, in particular, seemed on edge around him. Jesse McCree was close with Genji, and Hanzo would catch him squinting at Hanzo like he wasn’t sure what to think of him, how to feel about him. He soon scuttled off when he saw that Hanzo noticed, but he kept doing it. One of these days Hanzo would confront him over it, probably. Dr. Ziegler was less cold, but her smiles were tight and her eyes distant when she spoke with Hanzo. She leaned away from him slightly, probably unconsciously, and if Hanzo had not been trained to notice tiny details like that he likely would not have noticed. But he did, and it bothered him.

Genji had forgiven him. Was that not enough for them?

Although he supposed he shouldn’t be too hard on them. After all, no matter how Genji insisted that he’d worked through his issues with Zenyatta’s help, that he had forgiven Hanzo for what he’d done, Hanzo still couldn’t bring himself to be content. How could he? Whether Genji forgave him or not didn’t matter. Hanzo had still done something unforgivable. No matter how remorseful he was now, no matter how he wished he could go and take it back, there was no way.