Bad calming Pac down from his potential panic attack 🥲
41 notes
·
View notes
Thinking about Bad and Mike's discussion about hugging, specifically this quote—
Mike: Sometimes, when you're hugging someone, you can let your emotions out, you know? You feel... how can I explain... [...] Sometimes we all need a hug. Sometimes like, I don't know, sometimes when you have lots of problems on your mind, sometimes you give your loved one a hug and it gives them relief, you know? I think so, at least. * (Very approximate translation)
— and how it applies to q!Tazercraft.
Do you ever think about young q!Tazercraft fresh out of the orphanage with no one else but each other? Little Pac wrapping his arms around Mike and holding him as they fall asleep, them going from place to place to find shelter in abandoned shacks and buildings and huddling under the same blanket out of necessity but also because it's comforting to know someone else is there? Pac and Mike never growing out of this habit, especially after the events in prison and the kidnappings on the Island, always finding reason to stay near each other, always bumping shoulders and elbows or casually throwing an arm around each others' shoulders. Always tactile, always so expressive with their love through hugs and physical touch... :(
10 notes
·
View notes
despite it going against his entire character i feel like childe would be so pathetic when he's sick,, telling everybody "i'm fine" through a voice thick with congestion. he trails around miserably, lacklustre and sighing miserably (as best he can with a sore throat and stuffy nose), in comparison to his usual cheer and energy. the freckles on his nose are sharper against the red flush, the blue in his eyes softened by red rimmed wateriness, his hair even more tousled than usual.
but when it comes to zhongli/neuvillette/wriothesley etc, he snuggles into them, clingy and miserable in the privacy of their home, and lets himself be babied. he blows his nose into the tissues they hold up for him. he obediently takes the spoons of medicine they hold up and holds onto the heat pack they make him as he lays in their lap under piles of blankets, falling asleep to the soft sounds of them reading him a book while they rub his back, letting out small sniffles and coughs all the while. drinks the warm tea and eats the soup they spoon feed him after protesting half-heartedly, appetite all but diminished and uncomfortable with the steaming heat in his face. he lets himself be carried to bed after falling asleep and woken up with herbal tea and sliced toast with jam, hand gently carding through his hair and lips soft against his forehead.
after all he has been through, all he has done, since the young age of fourteen, it's difficult to let himself be taken care of, and a rare thing he indulges in (especially while sick and vulnerable) - but the way they hold him so gently, eyes soft and hands warm on his cold back and upset tummy, asking him if he needs more tissues or medicine or blankets; asking him if he feels any better, warning him to rest and take it easy - he thinks sometimes, it's nice to depend on others. it's nice to have his sickness be a cause of worry and caretaking instead of an inconvenience in his work or fear of contagion. it's not so bad, being loved.
22 notes
·
View notes
Watching midnight mass again and
John Pruitt my beloved 💖💕🥰💗💖💓❤💞😍
52 notes
·
View notes
Stop, the paddock ask, imagine being able to go on the grid and speak to him before the race starts
:(( im crying over this :((( getting to wish him good luck up close, giving his hand a squeeze and his helmet a good old slap shsjshsjs and seeing his smile up at you through his helmet 🥺
7 notes
·
View notes