🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨
hi mai <3 my music taste is so all over the place omg pls don't laugh
sufre - niños del cerro ; the lyrics of this song make me cry so hard literally every song by niños del cerro got me scratching my walls
dou jiang you tiao - jj lin ; if u understand the lyrics of this pls dont look at me this is so embarrassing... its my guilty pleasure song
if i can be your lover - back number ; THE MUSIC IS SO CATCHY we love back number in this house. literally no bad songs ever
i don't know - deulrejang ; another song thats got me shitting sobbing crying on the floor
rashisa - super beaver ; best opening ever for the best anime ever
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taking off their gloves ♡
nothing feels better than the warmth of his hands.
→ feat. zhongli, diluc ragnvindr, childe, kaeya alberich || genres: fluff
ZHONGLI never carries an umbrella around, even when it's raining incessantly on the busy streets of liyue like now. his body doesn't get sick after all, he doesn't find a need for umbrellas and whatnot. but you seem to think otherwise, as the moment you open the door for him you're quick to go grab a towel.
"you're soaking wet! did you forget to grab an umbrella?" you nag at him, while drying his hair.
"no, love. i don't have umbrellas," he replies, calmly. you raise an eyebrow at him. "i don't need them."
"what do you mean you don't need umbrellas? what—oh. is it, is it because you're immortal? but you will still feel cold, right?"
"but i won't fall ill, love." and zhongli sees how evident you disagree with what he said.
you don't say anything, it scares him (he prefers it when you are scolding him, when you're not quiet). instead, you leave the towel on the table and take off his gloves, his hands enveloped by yours. and when you start blowing hot air onto his hands, zhongli feels his chest about to burst.
when the color returns to his hands, you embrace him, face hidden in his neck.
"please take care of yourself," you whisper, softly.
"i will. thank you, love, for everything," he whispers back.
zhongli reminds himself to buy an umbrella tomorrow at bolai’s. but tonight, he's staying in your arms.
DILUC's favorite moment of the day is when he comes home. because no matter how late it is, you're always there waiting for him.
it always goes like this: you open the door before he can (it's because you recognize his footsteps, or at least that's what you say), and then you smile at him while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. you must have dozed off again while waiting for him; the drool on the corner of your lips doesn't go unnoticed by diluc.
and then it comes the kisses, one, two, three, on his cheeks, on his lips. while you kiss him, diluc always says "you didn't have to wait for me" to which you always reply with "i wanted to". and you help him take off his coat, his vest, his gloves. every time you take off his gloves, you always press a kiss on his hand before bringing it to your cheek.
"welcome home, diluc," you say, smiling sleepily. and those words make diluc's heart flood with love. he can't help but grab your face and plant a soft kiss on your lips.
"i am home," he whispers back.
the night is too long sometimes, but it is tiny routines like these that keep him grounded. diluc thinks that no matter how hard the day was, he can keep going as long as you’re there behind the door waiting for him.
CHILDE's life ended at fourteen. he doesn't remember much from his youth anymore, except the occasional fishing outings with his dad. he doesn't remember—he doesn't know—what children do, what toys they like and he definitely doesn't remember how to make snowmen; which is why he prefers to watch you play with teucer rather than join you two.
the snowman looks extremely curved, with droopy button eyes and a half-eaten carrot nose. there's something comforting about knowing that teucer gets to do things children do, things that childe didn't get to do. and childe knows, he knows there are things one is never supposed to get back. and in his case, it's his childhood.
but every time he sees you, he feels like a kid.
"babe, my hands are frozen!"
"what? let me see!"
you take off his gloves, so carefully, so tenderly (as you are). but the moment they're off, childe's hands are quick to plant themselves onto your cheeks.
"cold! childe! so cold!" you shriek, hands trying to pry his off from your face. but childe is firmly holding your cheeks while laughing like mad.
"sorry, just wanted to steal your attention a bit."
childe knows he's never getting his youth back. but he thinks that doesn't matter when being with you makes him laugh like a child every time.
"jealous that i'm spending time with your cute little brother, huh?" you tease.
he kisses your cheek. "yes, very much so."
KAEYA has never thought of his hands as pretty. the countless scars and cuts hidden under his gloves tell a tale that's far from pretty. but right now, with the wind blowing and you in his lap, he lets himself believe that thought.
"i love your hands," you say, holding his hands so lovingly, "so pretty."
he smirks. "you're with me only because of my hands?" he brings a hand to his forehead, "oh! you wound me, darling."
"stop being so dramatic," you roll your eyes before rubbing the rough fabric of his gloves with your thumb. "can i take your gloves off?"
kaeya nods. you struggle a bit taking off his gloves; the sight makes kaeya chuckle. when they're finally off, you take your time kissing each part of his hands: his palms, his knuckles, his scars and his cuts.
"pretty," you whisper after kissing all his fingertips, "so pretty."
"hm?" he gets closer to your ear. "i think you're prettier, darling."
kaeya laughs when the tips of your ears turn red. but it's true, kaeya thinks you're prettier than anything else in this world, in this universe. no sight in teyvat could ever compare to you. and kaeya hopes, he hopes that you're willing to stay with him in the future as well, when the entire world is against him.
he brings your hand to his lips before leaving a butterfly kiss on the back. "i love you. so much more than you think i do."
a/n: when is it my turn to have a pretty bf with pretty hands...
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summer heat.
it’s too hot to be cuddling.
→ feat. bokuto koutarou || genres: fluff || warnings: none
it’s too hot outside to be cuddling your giant boyfriend.
bokuto’s tightly wrapped around you and you can’t escape from his grasp. with every “it’s too hot” you whine out he just pulls you closer to him, hot breath on your neck. the fan doesn’t provide you enough air and you’re suffocating in the heat.
“babeee, just lemme hug youu.”
“kou, i love you but i need some air or i think i’ll die...”
“but it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other!” and you don’t even have to turn around to know he’s pouting right now.
you sigh.
“ok, let’s go outside,” you mumble. he chuckles and you can feel a smile on your neck.
“okay. get up, i’m taking you to the beach!”
no, no, no.
“i’m going to die!”
“no, you won’t! i’m holding you!”
this was a bad, terrible, horrible idea. why did you agree to this? you can’t swim, you can’t even get inside the water. bokuto’s carrying you to the sea, arms tightly wrapped not letting you escape, and oh god, oh god, this is not happening.
“i’m going to let you down now, okay?” he says. you shake violently your head but he doesn’t listen to you and lets your feet touch the water.
“oh no, oh, okay, okay, this isn’t that bad.” the water cools down your skin and bokuto’s warmth on your waist makes you realize you’re not that scared anymore.
“see? i told you it wasn’t that bad,” he laughs.
bokuto teaches you swimming for the rest of the afternoon. the air tastes like salt, the sky is a pretty aquamarine and the wind soothes your skin. it’s nice, spending time with him (it’s also nice seeing your boyfriend in only swimming trunks).
you missed this, his voice, his face, him.
“how’s practice lately?” you ask.
“good,” he answers, “i wish you could be with me. i miss you.”
you bury your face in his chest, “me too.”
a huge wave hits you both and you instinctively jump and wrap your legs around bokuto’s waist. he tightens his arms around you and holds you securely. when the wave leaves, bokuto looks at you, face and hair wet, and can’t help but laugh.
“we should go to the beach more often,” he says, forehead pressed against yours.
you smile, “yeah, we should.”
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