#BITING BITING AND CHOMPING GRRRRRR
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lttm · 1 year ago
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ditheringkestrel · 2 years ago
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just the fact that the biggest thing that keeley emphasized when she broke up with jamie was lack of accountability and now being accountable for his actions has been like his biggest area of growth and it’s all coming back around to him being there to support her when other people who should be there aren’t
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tickle-bugs · 2 years ago
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TUMBLR LET ME REPLY FROM A SIDEBLOG CHALLENGE 
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ayatoscupid · 2 years ago
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im going to.
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the-artificem · 3 months ago
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my brain everytime i see that pic of short hair elise: WOOF WOOF BARK BARK BARK ARRRGFFF WOOF WOOF BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK SNARL GRRRRRR HSSSSS BARK RUFF RUFF SNARL BITE CHOMP WOOF CHOMP BARK BARK GRRRRRRRR RUFF RUFF SNARL BITE BITE HSSSSSS BARK BARK SNARL CHOMP gRRROWL WOOF WOOF BARK GRRRR BARK BARK WOOF HOWLL BARK WOOF
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dot-png · 3 months ago
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the way u draw liam makes me wanna bite bite chew graaaaggghhh squash and stretch him like a poor unsuspecting gummy bear grrrrrr bite chew chomp his head off bite bite chew gnaw (this is positive)
youre the second person to say this...hes not beating the chewable allegations
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rars · 6 months ago
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"toxic yuri" and it's a picture of a man and a woman HRRGGHHH GRRRRRR GHRARARGHGH RARAARARGHGHGH GRRRRRGHGHH!!! BITE CHOM BITE CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP
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sapphire-heart-tippy · 2 years ago
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speedwagon is the most bite-y of the heads (he's still got a bit of the old ogre street gangster attitude in him)
Vanilla: *putting all the heads back in their jars* Alright, everyone, bedtime
Zeppeli: Wait!! WAIT! *Tries to hop away to the cellar*
Vanilla: *catches him* tsk tsk tsk, naughty naughty. In you go *plops him into his resting tank*
Jonathan: *lets himself be carried gently into his resting tank* Ah... Nice and chilly
Speedwagon: *tries to hop away*
Vanilla: no sir, we will be having none of that *reaches for him*
Speedwagon: grrrrrr *chomps Vanilla's fingers*
Vanilla: OUCH! Hey!! *Rubbing his hand* .... Hmm...
Speedwagon: *doing a little victory dance* Speedwagon is doing a little victory dance!!
Vanilla: *reaches down to him with oven mitts this time*
Speedwagon: WHAT?! No!! That's not fair!!!
Vanilla: hmhmhm! *Plops him into his resting tank*
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luxgalador · 2 years ago
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whats a moment you can remember looking at someone (either romantically or platonically) and just being like oh damn. i fucking love this person?
also you're so pretty it makes me a little angry (you know how sometimes you see something so freaking cute like a baby bunny or whatever and you just have the urge to like gnaw on some drywall to ease the insatiable rage rising in you like some sort of software malfuntion ERROR ERROR TOO MUCH CUTE MUST BITE AND CHOMP AND GRRRRRR? yeah. like that.)
quite a few recently that i'm gonna keep to myself because they're quite personal, profound, and nsfw (lol)
and omg???? i'm bunny??????
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pending-trans-action-2 · 2 years ago
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CLAW BITE BITE BITE BITE TEAR GRRRRRR
CHOMP BITE BITE BITE CLAW BITE HISSSSSS
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xeiilys · 2 years ago
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SNARL GRRRRRR HSSSSS BARK RUFF RUFF SNARL BITE CHOMP GRRROWL I LOVEU U SOFI WOFI
my ushijima wakatoshi headcanons.
content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, from high school, to you two being married, timeskip.
⚠ warning/s: manga spoilers.
note: here's a celebratory gift for @xeiilys because i made her an ushijima stan (the bastard read my ushijima one-shot, and now she's head over heels). one scene is from my 100 followers special. enjoy!!! :p
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ushijima probably gives the warmest hugs ever.
when you're both asleep, you always cling to him for heat because the bedroom is terribly cold. unbeknownst to you, ushijima turned the ac down so that you could cuddle into his broad chest.
being the giant he is, he's very gentle when he touches you in great fear of hurting you. like when he cups your face with his calloused palms, or when he pulls you close for a backhug, or his feather-light kisses on your temple.
while hand-holding, he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. when he sees that you're stressed, it's quite effective in calming you down.
because of his parents' separation, he was fearful of getting into this relationship at first.
but on one faithful day, where you two went to a strawberry farm to pick a bunch, he took one look at your adorably excited face, and he thinks that he'd love to see more of that expression for the upcoming years of his life.
he wonders what face you'd make on your wedding day together.
tanned ushiwaka. it's already quite canon, but y'know, doesn't hurt to say it every once in a while.
girls stare at him and think about how great it'd be to lock arms with his muscular ones, but they think that it'd be even greater if you weren't the one in their fantasized spot.
you have a sensitive heart, so it's very rare that ushijima would ever raise his voice at you. arguments with him might be stubborn, but he's never scared you away.
he probably calls you "love" most.
if you're afraid of loud noises, per say, fireworks, ushijima will cover your ears with his hands in an attempt to drown out the noise. the noises are muffled now.
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© lowercase intended | loveephia
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eldriitchmurmurs · 2 years ago
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lately ive been watching animal documentaries on netflix a bunch and that one 'animal' documentary in particular. and i hate it for one simple reason and that reason is at the end of every fucking episode ive seen thus far they do this whole big dramatic scary music pictures of damaged habitats and THENNNNNNN uplifting music pictures of rehabilitation centers. it is the CHEAPEST kind of climate related emotional manipulation that i have seen in years and that's without getting into how "human action" instead of "colonialist capitalist industrialization" is blamed and iiiiiiisdjkladfkjlasdfjkl;afds;jkafsdjk graaaagh grrrrrrrr grrrrrr bite bite bite chomp bite
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googledocsdyke · 4 years ago
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good morning. dean winchester is a xerox on carbon paper and the gateway to heaven is in a sigil scratched into a sandbox in an abandoned midwestern playground
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lanchang · 4 years ago
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i get more and more obsessed with the adaptational changes made to guardian every day today im thinking about lin jing going from “monk” to “IT guy”
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tallyhoot · 1 year ago
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GRRRRRR BITE BITESSSS BITE CHEWS DESTROYS/POS :3333333333 YOUR SO COOOL DUDE AHHHHH GRRRRRR AHHHHH
GRRRRR BITES BITESSSSS CHOMP GRRR GROWL GRRR BITESSSS/POS
MY ARM HURTS SO BAD FROM PLAYING GUITAR I JUST WANT TO PLAY SOME TALLY HALL SONGS MAN >:[
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ashestoashesjc · 4 years ago
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A Necromancer & His Zombie Boyfriend On A Couple's Retreat
Short Story 1/2/(3)/4/5/6/7/8/9/10
"RrRRrrrr... grrr? <Hey, uh, babe... seen my arm anywhere?>" rang Sett's voice throughout their cigar box of a house as he rummaged through closets, opened cabinets, overturned couch cushions. 
Shutting and latching the front door behind him, Ulrick began flipping through the stack of envelopes clutched in his right hand. "Huh? Oh…”
“Okay, so… don’t get mad,” Ulrick began, as meekly and guilt-tinged as one can make a shout. “But... there was this huge, I mean HUGE silverfish…” 
“GRrrr! Rrrrr. <Dude! Not cool,>” could be heard as Sett stomped his way to the foyer. 
“I know! I’m sorry! I’m weak!” moaned Ulrick. 
Sett sighed as he entered the cove and laid his single remaining hand on Ulrick’s left shoulder, the other sleeve draped flaccidly at his side. “Grrrr. <Well, yeah.>” he said. Ulrick snickered. 
“You know, having your boyfriend kill a bug for you is exceedingly normal,” Ulrick said, separating the bills from the letters that weren’t bills. There were very few that weren’t bills. “Almost conventional.” 
“Rrr. <True,>” Sett replied. “Rggrrrr. <Probably while the arm’s still attached, though.>”
“A mere quibble.” 
“Rrrrgrrr? <So, where is it now?>” Sett asked. 
“Ugh. Still getting cozy with the silverfish, I’d imagine,” Ulrick admitted, guilt creeping back into his voice. He covered his eyes with his free hand and shuddered. “In… the shower.”
Sett sucked air through his teeth in a compassion-filled cringe. 
“Yeah,” Ulrick sighed, resigned to his trauma. 
“Grrrr. <Don’t worry,>” said Sett. “Rraarr. <I got it.>” 
Ulrick slid his hand down his face with a grateful groan. “God, I love you.” Sett pulled him forward by his collar and pecked his forehead.
Continuing to sort through the mail, Ulrick came to a red envelope and, seeing it addressed to Sett, handed it over. “Looks important.”
Confusion clouded Sett’s eyes for the first few, slow moments spent undoing the envelope’s seal flap, until suddenly, a surge of realization like lightning drove him to violently tear the crimson paper away.
As he scanned the contents of the letter contained within, words failing to do his emotional state justice, Sett began to fist pump wildly, God help anyone in the flight path of his singular elbow. Ulrick looked on in entranced bewilderment.
“Was there itching powder in that envelope?” asked Ulrick.
Sett shoved the creased letter in Ulrick’s face, his manic energy not yet dissipated. Ulrick took it and held it out at arm’s length until his eyes brought the words into focus. 
“A couple’s retreat?” he wondered aloud, lowering the paper enough to peer over the top at Sett.  
“Grrgrrrr. <An all-expenses paid couple’s retreat.> Rrrrrr. <At a swanky resort.> GrrrrRr. <Complete with water skis.>”
“This is from a contest?” he asked, rotating and inspecting the sheet. “When did we enter a contest?”
“Rrggrrrr? <You know those entry slips we’re getting in the post all the time?>”
“The ones I’m always throwing away? I’m familiar.” 
“RrrRrrrrr ggrrrr. <Well, your aim could use some work, because some of them wind up in the mailbox,>” said Sett, with a shrug.
The sound that next filled the room, colored with exasperated mirth, was one Sett was used to Ulrick making, though one that never stopped bringing a flush of heat to the place where his heart used to be. 
He grabbed Ulrick by the hips and the two began to sway back and forth. “Rrrrrr. <Just imagine it,>” he purred dreamily. “GrrrRRrrrr rrrrRrrr grrr...arrrr? <Massages, rock-climbing, a luau. And… did I mention waterskiing?>”
Swaying still, Ulrick looked up with his head cocked. "I've... never heard you mention waterskiing before."
"GrrRrrrrrr. <I enjoy a lot of things I don't talk about.> Rgrrrrgrrr. <Like country music, or bad chick lit,>" Sett said before twirling and dipping Ulrick in a blur. "Rraarrrr. <I'm a multi-layered zombie.>"
Breaking clumsily away from the songless dance and squeezing the bridge of his nose, Ulrick set down the remainder of the mail on the side table by the entrance and looked his boyfriend over. “It’s totally free?”
“Grrarrr. <It’s totally free,>” confirmed Sett. 
Ulrick raised an eyebrow. “No catch?” 
“Rrr… <Well…>”
-
“And streeetch! That’s right! Streeetch!” 
At the front of Meadow Grove Resort’s famed yoga studio balanced - one foot planted on the ground, the other hooked deftly behind her neck - Chrysanthemum Smith, a remarkably limber 60-year-old instructor, urging her out-of-shape contest winning students to achieve the same feats of flexibility.   
All around Ulrick and Sett, a pretzel factory’s soon-to-be-discarded collection of heinous, gnarly undesirables had been given life in the form of sweaty middle Americans. 
That pretzels went through a less agonizing process being baked at 500 degrees was a fact Ulrick was both confident in and envious of. His legs were angled in a way he was sure he’d feel for weeks to come. 
Sett, on the other hand, had apparently been a contortionist in a past life, the way he bent himself into poses, well, a pretzel would gawk at, holding each position stoically before moving gracefully on to the next. It also helped that he couldn’t feel what would leave most tendons shredded rags.
Ulrick gave up the pursuit of dislocating his pelvis and instead went to poke Sett in the cheek. Through his mask, Sett made a chomping motion at the finger, though remained otherwise totally still. "Okay, but this kind of bites, right?" Ulrick signed. 
"A little. And not in the fun way," Sett signed back.
On a pair of blue, rubber mats to their left were two women - one in a biker's jacket and tattered, patched jeans, short red hair tied into a haphazard ponytail; the other a dark woman donning a shaved head, flower-patterned maxi dress, and combat boots - the former of whom suddenly grabbed Ulrick's attention with a nod. 
"You're telling me," she signed. 
And in an instant, they were no longer alone in the hazy, secluded sphere that made their reality.
So taken aback was he that he blurted aloud, "You sign?" 
The yoga instructor shushed him from her place at the head of the wide room, leading him to duck down sheepishly. With the forced inclusion of an overly casual air, he said more than asked, "You sign."
"Oh, yeah," the woman chuckled gruffly. "Mom's Deaf." 
Taking a sudden interest in the conversation, Sett's head swiveled to the leather jacket-clad woman. "Shit yeah!" he signed with fervor, eliciting a harsh snort from the woman. The instructor's head whipped around to glare her way, but went ignored. 
Sett's hands jumbled for a moment before he continued. "I mean, I'm sure that must have been very difficult for your family and--"
She gave a dismissive wave of the hand. "Nah, don't worry about it. She's capital 'D' Deaf. A congenital thing. Whole family's been signing forever."
Her wife - Jen, they later learned - chimed in with, "Di does it at home, too. She's taught me half the lyrics to Boys for Pele." 
"Wow!" Ulrick said with teeth-clenching enthusiasm. "That's so great! Isn't that so great, Sett?"
The mask did nothing to conceal Sett's raised, beaming features. "That's so great!" he signed. 
"I'm sorry!" bellowed the lithe yogi, shattering all delusions of serenity. "Am I boring you?" 
Several overlapping voices came to the general consensus of "Christ, yes."
One of the husbands, portly and somewhat resembling the famously affable capybara, asked, somewhat less affably, why they were being stretched into taffy when they should be outside taking one-on-one lessons with the beach volleyball instructor. He was joined by a few surly “yeah!”s. 
They were met with an unimpressed crossing of the arms. Though it should be noted Smith’s foot was still being held comfortably behind her head. 
"I would suggest, in the future, that you more closely scrutinize contest entries," Yogi Smith advised in as calm a manner as it seemed she could now manage, though with an unmistakable edge to her voice. "In order to partake in our facility’s more... physically involved activities, you’ll first need to align and cleanse your mental, emotional, and spiritual energies.”
This provoked a studio-wide groan, with the exclusion of Jen, who seemed just eager enough to cancel out the cloud of grim impatience encircling her. 
“Unless, of course,” Smith said, shifting poses to something favoring the letter ‘G’, “you’d prefer to construct your own schedules. In which case, a full price admission to Meadow Grove Resort remains available.”
She sleekly extended her right leg, pointing its foot pin-straight toward the sliding studio doors. “Don’t, as the masters of yore were wont to say, let the door hit ya.” 
When no one moved and the room went quiet enough to hear an acupuncture needle drop, Smith resumed a standing position and bowed three times to each division of the studio. “Namaste. Namaste. Namaste.” 
Chrysanthemum Smith had in no way undersold how ‘aligned and cleansed’ couple’s therapy and its airings of dirty laundry and subsequent ferocious dissolutions of decades of marriage; couple’s pottery, the same thing but with clay vases; and couple’s finger-painting, a bonding exercise in shared humiliation, would make their minds, emotions, and souls through sheer gut-rending hilarity.
Ulrick almost didn’t want to stop watching people who, hours ago, seemed all confidence and bravado, now being brought to tears by an instructor’s criticism of their macaroni art lacking ‘depth.’ 
But their confinement was over and they were free to roam the grounds as they saw fit and Sett, without even feigning to look for a map of the resort, made a beeline for the largest body of water (and the largest gathering of humans) he could sniff. Ulrick was still surprised at times by how agile Sett could be on his feet when on the hunt for blood - or recreational watersports - and struggled to keep up. 
Their long-awaited waterskiing adventure began almost as soon as they arrived at the lakeside, the instructor needing a volunteer at that instant to man the skis while he lectured another guest on the controls of the boat. At nearly a head taller than anyone else present, Sett didn’t need much more than a raised hand to stand out. 
Things were going great; Sett mounted on skis as long as he was tall, the boat revving greedily for take off. At Sett’s thumbs up, the runabout hammered off in a thunderous roar. And then, all at once, things were going wrong. 
The envisioned majesty of skimming the motionless calm of the crystal river was halted abruptly with a leaden Sett stumbling mid-lake in his skis, trying and failing to correct himself, going feet-over-head, and sinking like an anchor to the agitated silt of the riverbed below. 
Ulrick, though he jumped with concern at the first hint of a misstep, expected a brief swim back, perhaps slowed a bit - but not much - by Sett's stoney limbs. He’d been the star diver of his local swimming hole as a teen and still maintained some of the underwater dexterity, though nowadays tended to lurk the floors of bodies of water like a carnivorous bottom-feeder; eating habits included.
But then a few minutes passed, and nothing. A lifeguard and two of the more experienced swimmers among the guests plunged into the river and searched for fifteen minutes, cracking the surface now and again for a gulp of air, all to no avail. The water was too cloudy with sediment to see past a certain depth, and the orange-purples of dusk were beginning to settle in. They'd need to return in the morning with a diving team.
It'd now been forty-five minutes, and three of the resort’s other guests were consoling Ulrick, one herself on the verge of waterworks. They'd just witnessed a man - someone's significant other - torn tragically from life's teat, and in front of the man he loved, no less. 
Ulrick, for his part, was positively miffed. 
"When I get my hands on him..." Ulrick started, before one of the grievers tossed him a teary-eyed questioning look. "Er, that is... would that I could only put my hands on him... again..." he corrected. 
Just as Ulrick had begun mentally reviewing the basics of the Arts of Throttling, a movement, barely noticeable, shook the surface of the lake. Then bubbles, then the full break of the water as a head rose into view. Then the screams of onlookers as, in the fading light, a ghastly lake monster began its murderous approach. Then screams of a different kind as people began to make the connection proper. Then there was weeping, fainting, more than one declaration of faith renewed. It was a miracle!
Later, after insistences for medical attention were politely but firmly refused and the religious stragglers begging for just a smell of Sett’s waterlogged clothes were shooed away, Ulrick asked why he waited so long to resurface, to which Sett said, "GrrrrRRrr. <Well, at first I was just sort of embarrassed.> RrrrrrrGrrrRrrr? <Then I thought, "How often do these people see miracles?>"
"Oh, sure," groaned Ulrick. "A man comes out of a lake after half an hour and it's a miracle. A man comes out of a grave after a few months and it's "Grab the torches and pitchforks, everyone!""
"Rrrr. <Babe.>"
Ulrick gave a pouty grumble. "I'm just saying. One's a little more miraculous, is all." 
Sett pulled Ulrick's head into his chest and stroked his hair. "GrrrRrrrRrrr. <Shh, I know, dude, I know.>" His heavy, soaked clothes and lack of body heat didn't chill Ulrick as much as they should have, and though a fine coating of sand covering him from head to toe gritted against Ulrick's cheek, it only made Ulrick rub his face in rebelliously. 
"Okay," Ulrick said, resting his fists on Sett's chest and gazing up into his eyes. "What's the next activity? I think we’re... due-au for a luau?" The moment the words left his lips, his face collapsed into disgusted regret.
“Rgrrr... <Actually…>” Sett said, wrenching off his mask and shaking the excess water from his hair, teasing a blush out of Ulrick. “GgrrrRrrrr? <Doesn’t watching the stars by the lake sound pretty relaxing?>”
Ulrick grinned and took a seat on the shoreline, running his hands through the tufts of ryegrass stretching out in waves around him. He tapped a spot to his right and Sett, half-cocked smile in tow, came lumbering over to take it. 
Hours flurried past, changing nothing about the image of the intimately silent pair but the number of stark white pinpricks in the sky they beheld. 
They threatened to sit silently basking in each other forever. 
And then Sett said, “GRrrrrgrrr, rrgrrr, graargrr. <So, Diane and Jen gave me their number, and they want to plan an outing.>” 
Unease shot through Ulrick’s veins, but he held his tongue in search of the correct words. “O-oh?” 
“Grrr? Rrgrrrrr. <Isn’t that cool? People want to spend time with us,>” said Sett, ensorcelled with the twinkle of every new star. “Rrrrr. <With me.>”
“That might be…” began Ulrick, before noticing the glimmer in Sett’s eyes and faint lift at the corners of his mouth as he stared up towards a great unknown. He sighed. “It’s going to be great.” 
Sett rested his hand on Ulrick’s, their fingers interlocking. He smiled, and the two gazed into an ever-darkening firmament, speckled with a thousand stars and a thousand futures. 
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