#aaaaaaarghhh

[jamespaderamericanpsychongod]

anyone else ruin it by being honest

[cosmicdandeli0n]

AAAAAAAAAAAAARG I LOVE THEM.

Sooo, here's the animatic/animation!

I did this in december and actually this was like the second Teleneo drawing I did, I just was so brainrot about them (now they dominate my mind, so the the obsession got worse)

[akindplace]

I’m facing the end of this year with the lyrics “I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me” by the mountain goats playing on loop in my head, I guess

[ereflowere]

i reblogged this and then i realised i cant reblog it again tch

my gift for @ereflowere in the kaito exchange! :]

[4barbatos]

✦ sfw alphabet with venti .ᐟ

a/n: another venti fic today yay !!! ventination how are we feeling ;3 AAAAAAARGHHH I LOVE THIS LITTLE BARD SO MUCH WHY ISN’T HE REAL. i’m gonna sob. genre’s fluff + mild crack btw!! bc when am i ever normal about him. never.

also this one’s with a gn!reader (FINALLY), and it’s extra self-indulgent bc it’s venti day and i can do whatever i want <3 pls enjoy !! let me know if you screamed cried threw up

a — affection

clingy clingy clingy. he attaches himself to you. sometimes literally. he’s in your lap. on your back. wrapped around your leg. you cannot cook, clean, walk, or breathe without him whispering “don’t gooo :(” into your ear like a very needy wind spirit. he also kisses you for fun. not even for love. just because he can.

“i’m kissing you because i love you. and also because your face is cute. and also because i’m bored. and also because—”

b — bonding

his idea of quality time is literally doing nothing but existing beside you. staying in bed all day, tangled in blankets, talking about nonsense or just listening to the wind outside. you’re warm, you’re soft, you let him stick his cold feet on you — you’re his home.

sometimes you’ll be reading and he’s just… lying on your stomach, playing with your fingers and humming to himself.

“isn’t this the dream, love?”

yes venti. yes it is.

c — cuddles

velcro boyfriend. no like actually you cannot get him off. you tried once and he made the saddest noise in history and you immediately apologized and cuddled him for the next two hours.

he likes to be the little spoon. he likes to be the big spoon. he likes to be the entire utensil drawer.

clingy in sleep too. once you woke up and he was hugging your leg like a koala. didn’t even remember how he got there.

“the wind carried me 🥺”

venti. get off my ankle.

d — domestic

he does not know how to live like a normal human being. this is a man who thinks eating apples for every meal is normal behavior. but when he’s home, he tries to help… and fails gloriously. he washed your clothes once and turned all your whites green. tried to cook and almost summoned a hurricane in the kitchen.

“it was a culinary experiment!”

“venti. it was toast.”

you still love him though. it’s the effort (and his cute little apron) that counts <3

e — ending ( no angst !!!!!! not on his bday 😡)

you said “we’re over” as a joke because he ate your dessert and he. took it. seriously.

his pupils dilated. his smile dropped.

“y/n… please. no. i’ll never eat your sweets again. i’ll write you an apology song. seven verses long. i’ll drown myself in cider—”

you never pranked him again. okay maybe once more. but then he cried and you folded. he’s so dramatic 😭

f — fiancé

he’s proposed to you 47 times. and counting.

one time he gave you a ring made of dandelion stems. another time he kneeled on one knee with a piece of shiny rock he found while drunk.

you’re not legally married. but emotionally? spiritually? cosmically?

absolutely soul-woven together.

g — gifts

venti gives gifts like it’s breathing. a flower tucked behind your ear. a leaf shaped like a heart. a napkin with a poem scribbled in cider-stained ink. once he brought you a glowing crystal and said “i stole the moonlight for you.”

you keep them all in a box. it’s overflowing. he calls it his love archive. you’re keeping it forever.

h — hugs

clingy. obsessively clingy. will hug you out of nowhere. from behind. from the side. from under a table. if you say you’re cold? hug. if you say you’re sad? hug. if you say nothing at all? still hug. he once said your arms are his “emotional support enclosure.”

i — i love you

says it twenty times a day. sometimes directly, sometimes in completely insane poetic metaphors.

“if i were the wind, i would always carry you home. that’s how much i love you.”

“i’d trade a thousand songs for one second in your arms.”

bro just say ily.

you think he’s so poetic it hurts. you’re so in love you’d probably cry over a leaf if he said it was shaped like his feelings.

j — jealousy

he’s not possessive, but oh he gets pouty.

you laugh a little too hard at another bard’s joke and suddenly venti’s in your lap going “do you still love me? 🥺”

you say yes. he goes “okay, just checking.”

he’s fine after you reassure him. just a soft boy who wants to be your favorite always.

k — kisses

EVERYWHERE. forehead, cheek, neck, knuckles, shoulder, ELBOW??

you asked him what the elbow kiss meant and he went,

“it symbolizes the bend in the journey of our love.”

bro WHAT.

he kisses your temple and whispers songs. kisses your hands when you’re tired. kisses your lips when you least expect it.

you are the most kissable person alive and he is on a lifelong quest to prove it.

l — little ones

he doesn’t see himself as a dad figure, which is hilarious given the “protector of mondstadt” title. but he loves kids. he lets them braid his hair, teaches them silly songs, floats them around with gentle breezes. he always makes them laugh. he says he likes hearing joy.

“they laugh just like the wind. freely.”

you once caught him having a tea party with toddlers outside the cathedral and using a falsetto voice for every stuffed toy.

he’d be a great fairy godfather though.

m — mornings

chaotic but soft. you’re the early riser. he is not.

“noooo y/n don’t leave the bed, i haven’t absorbed your warmth yet :(”

“venti i need to shower—”

“bring the bed with you :((”

you always kiss his forehead before leaving and that gets him to stop whining. he says it’s “morning fuel.”

eventually you drag him out of bed by the ankles.

n — nights

he thrives at night. writes songs, sings under the moon, sometimes disappears to chase shooting stars and comes back with flowers. when you’re together, he hums lullabies while playing with your hair. performs a new poem every other night.

“this one’s titled ‘ode to the soul who makes my heart waltz like the wind.’”

venti. pls.

o — open

venti hides a lot from the world. but not from you. he lets you see the quiet parts of him — the sadness, the ache, the parts that remember what he’s lost. he lets you hold him during the silence. you’re the one person he feels completely safe with. his heart is all yours.

p — pet names

oh boy. he doesn’t even use your name anymore.

“windblume.”

“darling.”

“my muse.”

“ethereal sparkle of my soul.”

“sugarplum rainwhistle of the northern breeze.”

he makes up nonsense just to see you roll your eyes. but his favorite is whispered softly at night, when he thinks you’re asleep —

“mine.”

q — quirk

when he’s deep in thought, he starts playing invisible harp strings. like literally air-harping. sometimes he unconsciously hums your name into the wind. one time you heard it echo off the mountains.

also: sings when he’s nervous. badly.

“🎶 i accidentally knocked over your vase but it’s okay because i’m still cute 🎶”

you forgave him. immediately.

bonus: somehow always smells like apples, no matter where he’s been — also makes random wind currents when he sneezes 😭

r — romance

he is so romantic it’s ridiculous. candlelit serenades. letters tied to birds. composing songs just for your laugh. he once made a whole musical just to say he missed you. this man breathes love. flirts like a second language. you’re dating a walking sonnet.

s — support

always in your corner. he hypes you up like you’re his favorite idol. he says things like “you’re the only melody i’ll ever follow.”

will write a diss track against anyone who upsets you.

t — thrill

he loves surprising you. wind-rides, unexpected songs, pulling you into a waltz mid-walk. he keeps life interesting. sometimes too interesting. like that time he tried to turn your room into a “floating love nest.” it floated. for ten seconds. then collapsed.

8/10 execution though.

u — understanding

venti’s the type to read your mood like music notes. he knows when you’re sad even if you don’t say a word. sits beside you quietly, offering his presence like a warm breeze. he never pushes, just waits. waits until you’re ready. he’s patient. he’s yours.

v — vows

you’re not married, but he’s written so many vows. every poem is a promise. every kiss is a contract. he once made a pinky promise under a tree and said,

“this is stronger than any ring. the wind will remember.”

you believe him.

w — wild card

once tried to ride a wind current into your bedroom window while drunk.

got stuck halfway and just. hung there.

you had to yank him inside by the cape.

he said, “the wind failed me… but you never do.”

you threw a pillow at his face.

x — xoxo

you receive approximately 102 hugs and kisses per day. minimum. he keeps count. proudly.

“gotta meet the daily love quota!”

he’s annoying. you’re obsessed.

y — yearning

he’s the type to ache when you’re apart.

writes you full ballads. sends them via wind.

once got sick because he missed you so hard he forgot to eat.

don’t leave him alone for too long or he’ll spiral into a dramatic monologue about your absence.

z — zzz

sleeps with his eyes slightly open. snores quietly. not loud. but he mumbles.

you’ve woken up to him sleep-singing.

once he tried to sleep-float and hit the ceiling.

now you make him wear a heavy blanket.

[gingerteafairy]

𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚

Tate's nirvana obsession led to a not-so -innocent band practice.

tags n warnings: tate landgon x reader, crack!fic, f!reader, mdni, smut, pwp, piv. word count: 592

The house was unusually quiet for a Saturday —except for you and Tate, hooking up like rabbits on his dark green duvet. Tate’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the cold iron bar of the bed headboard, his palms slick with sweat, holding your legs by his blushed shoulders. Who knew how long the two of you had been fucking—time seemed to dissolve into the rhythm of his hips.

Tate wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Hey,” he panted, mid-thrust, “you know Nirvana, right?”

Your cheeks flushed and your hair sticking to your face in every direction, squinted at him. “Uh… yeah? Smells Like Teen Spirit? Oh right there, baby.” You failed a bit on your voice, reaching that sweet sensation.

Tate rolled his eyes, steadying you with one hand. “No, hmmm... it’s more than that. It’s like… it’s a vibe.” He cleared his throat and began singing, albeit off-key:

“Come as you are, as you were...”

You burst into laughter between your wimpey moans. “Oh my god, Tate! You sound--hmmm, like a dying cat!”

“Rude,” he shot back, though his crooked grin betrayed how pleased he was that you were laughing. “Let’s hear you do better.”

“Okay, okay,” you said, trying to catch your breath. You scratched his back and sang—or rather, squeaked:

“Come as you aaaaaaarghhh! FUCK, TATE”

Tate doubled his thrust to intentionally make you fail, which sent a humongous laugh in his lungs. He rocked his hips deep with a muffled “fuck”. “That was so bad, sugar. Worse than me.”

You were laughing so hard you had to cover your mouth, your legs giving out to tremble. “It’s your fault! You distracted me with your cock, you bastard! You, ugh, looked like a drowning crow.”

“‘m a drowning crow,” Tate deadpanned, his head lying flat on your chest, nipping your skin. “You should sing backup for me. You’re a natural. Sing f’me, honey.”

“As I waaant you to beee,” you sang with the least amount of breath you had, before cupping his face in your hands in a sloppy kiss.

Tate groaned, grinning. “As a friend, as annn old memoryyy”

“Still so fucking bad.” You shot and grabbed his hand, pushing him away. “Up, wanna ride you.”

The two of you stumbled out of the mattress, limbs jelly-like, and made your way to sit on his lap to wrap his swollen cock from your juices inside your cunt again.

Tate holds your ass as you insert his cock slowly in your abused pussy, looking dramatically bored. “C’mon, hurry. Let me cum, hm?”

“Only if you keep singing,” you sigh, plopping down, moaning with his full length reaching your cervix. “It's awkwardly sexy.”

Tate smirked and started again: "Take your time, hurry up...”

You joined in this time, your voices merging into a chaotic duet. You wobbled on his lap, your attempts to sing turning into uncontrollable giggles and moans, driving into a perfect climax together a few seconds later.

“You’re so bad at this!” Tate gasped, wiping his face on his comforter, before taking it to cover both of you.

“You’re worse!” you retorted, laughing so hard you nearly tipped over.

You sang and laughed until the sun started dipping lower in the sky, your voices hoarse and your clothes damp with sweat and cum. As you walked home, you glanced at Tate and grinned. “Best band practice ever.”

Tate nudged you playfully. “You’re the worst lead singer I’ve ever heard.”

“And you’re the worst Nirvana impersonator alive,” you shot back, sticking out your tongue. "Bye, Kurt."

[davifransarts]

BEN BIGGER AAAAAAARGHHH 🫰🫰💕💕!!!

[kaurwreck]

Hello, i feel like you'd be very interested in this topic---i just wanna say, the real Yosano's life was quite bitter and very dispiriting, T- T she was exiled from infancy and was only removed from the prison of neglect when her father mistook her large forehead as a sign of intelligence (her father, was apparently an ardent believer of eugenics and wanted to produce superior human beings) and she was sent to school only @ the age of three.

It kindaaa made me think of how BSD Yosano was drafted from the candy shop because, too, of a sign of something valuable and special---the real Yosano was only noticed by her father when she seemed indicative of intellect while BSD Yosano was chosen specifically due to her potential to be of use i am biting my fist!! i am about to SCREAM!!

Also her father (the real Yosano) inherited a confectionary shop and i think it was mentioned in the manga that she (BSD yosano) was drafted from a candy shop, so i guess it's not too far fetched to assume, if we try to parallel them, that the candy shop BSD Yosano was taken from to serve the military was actually run by her family---she was taken from her family, however, the author Yosano didn't have a particularly strong familial love due to the neglect and indifference of her family and servants to her so it made me think that BSD Yosano saw being chosen by Mori as a chance to finally be acknowledged and be seen as someone who is capable of something bc the real Yosano's father looked down on her because she is a girl and even left their household for a week upon knowing that the child Yosano's mother gave birth to was not a boy AAAAAAARGHHH am only at the beginning of this biography book (Janine Beichman - Embracing the Firebird_ Yosano Akiko and the Birth of the Female Voice in Modern Japanese Poetry-University of Hawaii Press (2002)) but AHH it's making me feral!!

Also if this ends up being annoying or something ur not interested in please feel free to ignore my ramblings/gen issoki

This isn't annoying at all! Nurture your heart and tenderness towards Yosano Akiko as you move through her life; there will come a point at the very end where it may feel like she's betrayed you (or at the very least, she may leave you feeling conflicted). But I think compassion can (and should) remain constant, even where our opinions, complaisance, and favor need to be pliable and subject to revision.

I didn't know much about her early life before, so this was really informative and well received. Her parents' neglect and abandonment contrasts starkly with how fiercely she loved and supported her own children. I think, knowing this, I have an inkling of understanding into how the principles she held at the end of her life could have become so different from the principles that defined her early career.

Those are also very on-point parallels to bsd!Yosano, and add nuance to the circumstances that brought her to Mori. I agree that the parallels really emphasize how important Mori, his affection for her, and his faith in her competence were to her; which is why he was so capable of destroying her sense of self when he prioritized her skill over her humanity.

Thank you for sharing the title of the biography you're reading; I look forward to seeking it out!

[trash-llama]

Kurt: OMWOMWOMW WHAT DO WE DO? We have to teleport, but how? The M key doesn't go to the hospital!! AAAAAAARGHHH!!

[persephinae]

Me, trying to undo my mistakes: CTRL Z!! CRTL Z!!! AAAAAAARGHHH

[daburuwosagase]

infinity nado forcing me to spend hours figuring out videosubfinder again. I finally got less garbage results but now I can't generate txtimages out of them!! aaaaaaarghhh!!!!!

it's not even an issue of the sub language, I just can't figure out the right settings again

[andromedicasphyxiate]

AAAAAAARGHHH THESE ARE TAKING OVER MY LIIIIFFFEEEEEEE

let's synchronise with mama

[naninadz]

found that one utahraptor reconstruction I did and touched it up

[that-cheer-up-anon]

Okay that video of that white lady pouring nacho cheese on her kitchen island countertop is still making me angry holy cannoli

[sebstanaddict]

Seb is GOING TO THE MET!!!

Aaaaaaarghhh!!!

[wolffyluna]

Oh no.

I think I'm developing a new Blorbo.

Which isn't in and of itself a problem. It's just that this new Blorbo is Ouyang from She Who Became The Sun. You know, a canonically horrible person from a tiny fandom.

I keep wanting to go "Look at him, isn't it he neat?" I want to re-read the bits of the novel with him in it, even though I just finished the book a few days ago.

Aaaaaaarghhh.