#long tailed spider

[nippongoto]

オナガグモ

クモを専門に食べるクモ

R5.4

[toacody]

Makuta Spiriah

Can never let that one failure go.

Source

Creator: Alivefaun2

[creatureimages]

ARACHNURA‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[hedonicghost]

happy valentines day, @freylaverse!!! we planned on doing something cute, but her and us had this interaction last night and it's been making us laugh each time we think about it, ehe. 💚💙

[doctorsiren]

This is what happened at the end of Across the Spider-Verse, right??

[nsdclassic]

Alfa Romeo Spider S1

[dansnaturepictures]

13th September 2023: Another gorgeous sky tonight, cellar spider, a beautiful Hedgehog out the front tonight and phone photos of the nice abundant purple flowers at Winchester Cathedral and plane tree and pretty purple roses I enjoyed seeing in Abbey Gardens.

Woodpigeon and Feral Pigeon at the cathedral, a Robin heard singing beautifully at Abbey Gardens, Long-tailed Tit, common mallow, ragwort and fleabane at Lakeside and ivy-leaved toadflax and hemp agrimony in Winchester were other highlights today.

[spookykestrel]

tell me about bugs ! /lhnp

Aah ty for the ask this is so general there’s so many facts and things um (edit I didn’t mean to write a whole essay you don’t have to read the whole thing)

Recently I’ve been enjoying learning about spiders which is ever so slightly ironic considering how afraid I was of them and how I still am a bit scared to come across ones I’m not familiar with. Learning about them makes them so much less scary though. A lot of the most venomous and scariest spiders are actually relatively docile and won’t bite unless threatened or they’re a mother with babies. In the US there hasn’t been a death from a black widow bite in 40 years bc their bites are rare and able to be treated. A lot of venomous spiders can actually administer dry bites too or control the amount of venom they inject which is super cool. Since their venom is used to kill prey, when they bite a human it’s usually just in self defense so a lot of bites from deadly spiders aren’t actually that dangerous. Ofc it’s still imperative to seek treatment just in case you have a reaction or they did inject venom (although you’d be able to tell there’s some nasty symptoms). Most cases are able to be treated, too, with anti-venom and while not a pleasant experience they’re rarely deadly.

I feel like there needs to be a picture here to break up this post so uhhhhh here’s a bunch of bees on a clover ( and a Yellowjacket)

One of my other interests rn is misconceptions/misidentifications. Which ig ties into spider bites. One common myth is that daddy longlegs spiders are super venomous but their fangs are too small to bite humans. This is very wrong for several reason uhh first is that daddy longlegs is a super broad term used to refer to cellar spiders (actual spiders of the araneae order), harvestmen (arachnids in the opilione order so Not Spiders), and crane flies (these are literally flies as the name suggests. They…. They aren’t spiders they have wings they aren’t venomous. Although they do have long legs). Cellar spiders are a little venomous but their venom poses little harm to humans (just a typical insect bite yk) and they rarely bite humans. Harvestmen actually don’t have venom and don’t have fangs just hollow claws used to grip. Which can’t harm people.

anyway harvestman are the absolute silliest guys I love seeing them bounce around

(Photo credit evanaturalist on inat <3)

Another quickl thing (I promise I’ll stop soon you invoked a topic I’m incapable of being normal about and gave me no limitations or anything so I’m on a ramble there’ll be no survivors etcetc) is also about flies. A lot of people assume those itty bitty sweat bees that hover around you at the park or whatever are actually more likely to be hoverflies (instead of a real sweatbee)! They only have one set of wings (unlike a bee) and no they can’t sting. I told this all to my friend at a concert who was being very annoyed by the one following her around and after explaining them and marveling over the super cool patterning of the calligrapher flies (specific type of hoverfly) they actually came around and admitted they’re very cool and it was a lovely moment bc once you know more about something then you can accept it more yay woohoo.

^ the black and yellow is deceiving it only has the one set of wings. If you cared the one pictured is a maize calligrapher specifically . Very common in the US and Canada.

Oh and I got a millipede tatto did you see :]

[shironezuninja]

I’ll post the last 3 AI Mermay Art photos later.

[obakawaiiart]

Commission set for KHVathiel.

Twitter | Bluesky | FA | DA

[frascospecimen]

I feel bad because I’m struggling to draw so hard but I NEED to get these thoughts out so. continuing from this tag

[hasellia]

Chart of Venomous Spiders in Australia.

The LOW DANGER spiders are literally harmless unless you have allergies, btw. "Localised pain and swelling" just means "you've been bitten". Also, mature label is on solely for the arachnophobic viewers.

[spider-gallery]

Lonely beast

[charliemwrites]

Men At Work - Part 3

I know this has been a little slow to start, but things should progress a little more quickly from here. I wanted to establish some of the groundwork for this weird dynamic they all have but unfortunately, these men don't know the meaning of slow, even in my own head.

No Content Warnings

“How are the repairs going?” you ask.

It’s just Nikto today, returning your Tupperware from dinner the other night. He’s covered head to toe once again, all that’s visible are those glass blue eyes. One way mirrors - hiding everything beneath the surface.

They remind you of… something. 

Hmm. When you figure it out, they’re sure to make an appearance in your next novel.

“On track,” he answers in that sharp, staccato way you’re learning is just his way.

Unfortunately for him, that just makes you more curious. You know it’s a bit obnoxious - you’re not entitled to information, you know that. And most of the time you curb the inquiries tapping at the back of your teeth. But he’s in your house, snuggling your traumatized cat. If he’s got a problem answering casual questions, you’re certain he’ll have no problem letting you know.

“You’re redoing the whole thing?”

“Most of it. Foundation is good. The rest - дерьмо.”

You don’t know a lick of Russian, but you can guess.

“Good bones,” you hum in understanding. As if you know anything about construction. “That helps. When do you think it will be done?”

He shifts, sharp eyes flicking between your busy hands, the door, and Rasputin holding him lovingly hostage.

Little guy is currently perched on your shoulder, face buried against your collar in abject despair that his bestest friend hasn’t come to visit. Shithead is poaching (or attempting to, anyway) the sandwiches you’re assembling. So far, she’s only swishing her tail, biding her time. You’re keeping an eye on her.

“Two months. Three if any of us are called.”

You hum, reach for the tomatoes. It’s only because you’re looking at him that you notice the slightest twitch around his eyes. Beneath his mask, you’d bet he’s scrunching his nose.

“No?”

“I will eat.”

You leave the tomatoes off. Guy mews sadly, you tilt your head to press a kiss to his little ear.

“So, two or three months. Krueger said you’ll move in then.”

“Da.”

You top the sandwiches with a final slice of bread and turn to the oven. Spin back just in time to catch Shithead’s paw reaching for Krueger’s designated sandwich. Nikto eyes the plate of brownies in your free hand; you bite the corner of your mouth to keep from grinning.

“What about the yard?”

Nikto tilts his head. If he didn’t give the impression of a particularly large predator, you’d call it cute. As it is, even spiders and snakes endear themselves to you somehow.

“What about yard?”

“Any plans for it?” You sneak an extra brownie onto Nikto’s plate. Reward and apology for wrenching conversation out of him. “Grass? Trees? Flowers?”

He blinks. Just once. Some sort of intuition tells you that even that behavioral tic is a big social step for him.

“No.”

“Oh, uh… gravel then?”

“We mean no plans,” he corrects.

“Oh! Alright, I suppose that’s a long way off anyway. There’s still so much work to do on the inside.”

But it does get you thinking. What even goes into fixing a house? And how do they know all this stuff? The electric, the insulation, the… whatever else goes into a home. Is it just Weird Things they picked up from the military?

You stare contemplatively at the house’s exterior as you walk the plates across the street with Nikto. (Ras is riding on his shoulder and Guy refused to detach his claws from yours. You fear for the state of your home with Shithead left behind, but neither you nor Nikto had a spare hand to wrangle her with.)

Nikto practically kicks the door in, shouting for the others as he goes. Guy chooses that moment to start crying - uncanny sense for appearing pathetic as possible.

Konig must hear him halfway down the stairs, because the steady boot steps get faster after a moment.

“Oh, bubchen! Why are you sad? What has happened?” Konig coos, nearly running to your side.

Of course, now that he’s gotten what he wanted, Guy’s volume lowers. He makes a pleased little “mrow” and slinks off your shoulder and into Konig’s reaching hands. You’d call him a traitor but you’re a damn sucker for a big man with a cute animal. 

“You two are ridiculous,” you laugh, setting the plates on the counter.

It’s already been replaced since last you saw it. Black granite, very sleek. You like it. (Which of them installed it? Nikto? You usually catch glimpses of him on the ground floor.)

“He is a baby, Biene,” Konig protests, “he must be treated like one.”

“He’s already five!” You reply, like you don’t have a papoose for when your hands are too full to snuggle him.

“Did I stutter? I do not think so. This is a baby.”

You have to turn away to hide your laughter, pretending that taking the foil off the lunches requires your full attention.

Krueger steps up behind you while you’re not looking. The heat of him is what alerts you, the only reason you don’t jump when his rough voice comes by your head.

“Where is the Shithead.”

“Hello to you too, Krueger. How is your day?”

He grunts and reaches past you, trying to snatch up a brownie. Without a thought, you slap at his hand - balk at the sharp whack sound it makes. He jerks his hand back in shock.

“You deny me my dearest friend and you attack me in my own home.”

You spin on your heel, mouth already open. False start as you realize he’s even closer than you expected. The height difference doesn’t seem like much until you’re eye level with his neck. You untangle your tongue and ignore the smirk growing at the corner of his scarred mouth.

“This is barely a house, never mind a home,” you scoff.

He snorts - that smirk turns to a full blown grin. A little crazed. Unfortunately, that makes it more attractive. (And the bastard probably knows it too.)

“You insult me too, now.”

“Sure, but I brought you food.”

He flicks his eyes to the plate behind you and arches a brow.

“Bring me the little Sheisskerl and I will forgive you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Go get her yourself.”

What the hell did you just say? Inviting a man into your house unaccompanied?! You may not be a true crime writer, but you know better.

You still don’t take it back.

He locks eyes with you, gives the distinct impression that he knows exactly what you just thought and he’s amused by your obstinance.

“Fine.” He reaches past your hip. Smells like sweat and something that reminds you of heat. Solder? Certainly not anything you’re used to. “Behave, eh? Konig is easy to take advantage of.”

You snort and glance at Konig over his shoulder, who’s glaring now. (Somehow no less intimidating even with Guy nuzzling at his mask.)

As Krueger turns, he takes a big bite of brownie, humming appreciatively under his breath. You shake your head, then turn to Konig.

“If you want to steal one of his sandwiches, I’ll look the other way.”

Konig barks a short, sharp laugh of surprise. It startles you a bit, but not enough to wipe the grin from your face. You know he really means it when he sounds like that.

“How are the bathroom repairs going?” you ask.

“They are going well!” he answers. Then launches into an in-depth explanation of all the ongoing projects. Replacing walls, rewirings, outlet and light installations. What doesn’t go over your head is almost too fast to understand as his accent thickens with excitement. You nod along anyway, because you asked, and he’s stupidly endearing - big muscular man getting a bit squeaky while he rambles about pipes.

He barely even notices Guy’s little paw reaching until it’s shoved into his open mouth. He sputters as you burst into laughter, gently tucking Guy’s arm against his chest.

“Why would you do this?!” he asks, only to receive a slow blink in response.

“He’s saying you need to eat,” you giggle, nudging Konig’s plate.

“Oh, that’s right! Thank you for the lunch!”

Barely a couple bites in and you hear the door open again. Krueger stomps in with Shithead bundled in his arms, one hand under her bottom, the other around her tummy. She’s got her head tilted all the way back to chirp and chitter at him.

“Why are you carrying her like that?” you ask, choking back a giggle. 

“It is how she wishes to be carried.”

You blink at her - but sure as shit, she’s perfectly content being held like a child’s toy.

“Well good luck eating like that.”

“You won’t feed me?” he leers.

“I don’t want rabies if you bite me.”

His laughter is even harsher than Konig’s. You like it instantly.

All that’s left is to hear Nikto’s.

Agatha is outside when Nikto walks you back home.

(Krueger huffed that he had too much work to do for the day, but he would see you for dinner. While you were still blinking in shock at his self-invite, Konig transitioned Little Guy back into your arms. All the while grumbling at Krueger’s impatient German.)

She scowls as she notices your two-person parade. Nikto’s juggling Little Guy and Rasputin; you’ve got a firm grip on Shithead and the stack of dirty plates. You snort a bit just thinking of her paranoid comments about them being bad men. Sure, they might be in some ways, but it’s a hard sell when Ras is trying to lick at the edge of the mask around Nikto’s eyes.

“Afternoon, Agatha,” you call, just to be petty.

“When is your fiance coming by again?” she calls back. “Such a lovely young man.”

Your mirth dries up in an instant. “I broke up with my boyfriend four months ago. I thought I told you.”

You did. You know you did. Because she’s a nosy pain in the ass that was asking about your Easter plans with him (trying to invite you to church once again) when you told her that you left him. She’d even fussed about it at the time, saying that there’s hardly anything that can’t be healed with time and understanding.

(It was only your commitment to your own privacy that kept you from asking how much time it takes to smooth over someone cheating with your cousin.)

At your side, Nikto grunts. You glance sideways at him, wondering what he must think.

But his eyes are on Agatha. Even Rasputin has paused the grooming routine to narrow his one eye at her.

“Is this the one that looks in mailbox?” he asks, louder than you’ve ever heard.

Loud enough that she hears. And flushes redder than the poppies in your flowerboxes.

“That’s her husband, actually,” you answer. She sputters, and an incredibly immature bolt of satisfaction suffuses you.

He grunts again. Eyes her up and down. “Maybe we leave surprise for him next time, da?”

You press your lips together, but it does nothing to prevent you from grinning. He’s deadly serious, though, which somehow makes it even funnier to you.

“Maybe!” you reply in a tone that really means absolutely.

Nikto shuts the door on her face before Agath can get out a threat to call the police.

“You’ve got a petty streak,” you say, grinning at him.

He tilts his head. “You like.” He doesn’t even sound sure if it’s a question or a statement.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “I like it.”

He grunts and takes the plates from your hand. “We wash. You think about dinner and revenge. Da?”

You plop yourself onto a stool by the kitchen counter. “Da.”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[demonic0angel]

Like any other species, Dragon courtship has its own sets of rules that it follows.

Males spend years carving out a territory and building up a collection of items that would astound anyone that happened upon it. While females roam from territory to territory seeking a compatible mate.

Hoards are the biggest deal breakers when it came to dragon courtship. It didn't matter if the male had the best territory or was beyond charming. If the female took one look at his hoard and wanted rare gemstones instead of the pile of gold he had, the courtship was dead. No amount of conjoling or bargaining could revive it. Niche collections that weren't the normal rare minerals or precious metals were even harder to get a pass on.

Jason's book hoard fell under niche dragon collections. He'd long gotten used to scenting one of his kind near his den entrance only to never spot them.

So when he returned home and smelled an hours-old unfamiliar female scent, he wasn't bothered by it. Finding her asleep by a pile of books with one open under her maw as if she drifted off while reading did surprise him, though.

(Reminds me of my spider fic lmaooo)

Part 2

Jason crept closer, breathing out a puff of smoke before he inhaled her scent. Yes, this was the dragon that had stayed in his hoard for at least a few hours. He sat back and observed her, tilting his head as he looked at her smooth black scales and sharp claws. Her hide was unscarred, her form was slender, her wings looked large and strong. She was big, far bigger than most dragons that he saw and possibly even bigger than his own sire and guardian.

Jason’s tail swished in happiness.

Yes, with her, they’d have a good hoard and a wonderful nest. He could already imagine it. They’d have plenty of eggs, cute hatchlings, with thousands upon thousands of books to satisfy them both. Jason could read human language, and clearly, so did this dragon, and he could already picture them reading to their children together.

He shook off his thoughts and laid down, pulling one of the books of his collection towards him to delicately flip open the pages. He read as she slept and after a while, she finally sat up with a start, her spines rising as well as her wings as she reared back in alarm.

Jason also stood up, but quickly corrected his posture to be more demure. He had clearly satisfied her with his hoard and his scent if she had been asleep that long, but he still had to ask her to let him court her.

The female dragon shook her head, as if clearing her mind before she looked up at him critically. “You must be the owner of this hoard,” she said. Her voice was sweet and now that her eyes were open, Jason stared in awe at the turquoise eyes that looked at him so sharply.

Dragons have killed and kingdoms had fallen for treasures the same color as those eyes.

Jason tried not to show how nervous he was as he nodded. “I am. My name is Jason, second oldest of the Waynes.” He spread his wings, large, scarred, and weathered, and bowed down to her in respect.

“The Waynes…” she said with a hum. “A good lineage. Very wealthy too, if I recall. I am surprised by the selection of your hoard. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Her wings curled around herself and her tail swished, pleased. “I am Jazz, oldest daughter of the Nightingales. In my long life, I’ve never seen anyone use books as a hoard before.”

She returned the bow deeply and respectfully.

Jason gave another puff of smoke. “I’ve always liked books. Humans have many treasures, but none can teach or imagine or create like books can. They’re delicate and small, especially for dragons. I felt like something like books were more rare and important than gems or gold, which can be recycled over and over.”

Jazz bared her teeth in a smile. She crept over to him and brushed her chin over his head. Jason froze in place as her smooth scales and long horns rubbed against his, creating warmth from the friction of their skin. A steady purr built up in Jazz’s throat as she rubbed her scent all over him, brushing their wings and sides together until he was thoroughly covered in her scent, sweet and salty and strong.

Jason finally found his words when she began intertwining their tails together and blurted, “I wish to formally court you!”

She paused and then rubbed her face against his again, still purring. “I happily accept. We shall make a home that will have all other dragons seethe in envy. I will protect our nest and eggs with my life.”

“And I will make my hoard even bigger and grander for you and protect us with my life,” he swore to her and returned her rumbly purr.

Thank goodness he never listened to his nestmates to get rid of his hoard and replace it with something else.

Otherwise, how would he have attracted Jazz’s attention?

[fatkish]

Hey!!!! Could i please an thank you req headcanons for pro heroes and their kid telling them they like another hero over them??? i just think itd be rlly cute haha

Pro Heroes x Child Reader: Asking Their kid who Their Favorite Hero is

Midnight:

When she asked you who your favorite hero was you happily shouted Present Mic. Although she kinda sweatdropped at the thought of Hizashi, she smiled and still agreed that he’s a good hero.

All Might:

When reporters asked you who your favorite hero was, since All Might is your dad, you happily replied with Endeavor. When asked why, you replied with fire is super cool and he make bad guys pee their pants cause he’s scary. All Might had to hide his frown and cried later that night. Endeavor who has caught the tail end of the interview, laughed at it

Sir Nighteye:

When he asked who your favorite hero was you replied with Gang Orca. This started a long Argument between the both of you on who’s better, All Might or Gang Orca.

Endeavor:

He isn’t really the type to care about this kind of thing but when you replied with Fatgum, he wasn’t expecting that. You told him that he’s your favorite because Fatgum is cute and squishy looking.

Hawks:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was, expecting you to say daddy, he was shocked when you said Edgeshot. He regrets asking since you started to argue with him on why Edgeshot is cooler than him.

Fatgum:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was you told him it was Mirko since she kicks butt. He laughed and happily agreed seeing you excitedly reenact her fights

Present Mic:

When he had you on his radio show he asked you who your favorite hero was you told him it was Nighteye since he’s smart. If he wasn’t on air at the time he would’ve been crying and explaining to you that your dad’s smart too

Aizawa/Eraserhead:

When you told Aizawa that your favorite hero was Present Mic, the only reaction you could see was a slight eye twitch, but you giggled and then told him it was a joke and that he’s your favorite since he doesn’t need his quirk to beat a villain. Plus he’s your dad so that automatically makes him the best. He just smiled and gave you a hug and kissed your forehead

Best Jeanist:

When he asked you who you’re favorite hero was you told him you don’t really have a favorite since you think heroes are kinda lame. You told him you liked Nedzu since he could probably bring humanity to their knees. He became kinda worried about you after that answer.

Mirko:

When you told her your favorite hero was Ryukyu because dragons are cool. She smirked and said that she thinks Ryukyu is cool too and asked if you wanted her to arrange a meeting so you could meet your Idol. You screamed in delight and hugged your mom’s leg begging her to do it.

Gang Orca:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was you replied with Black Manta. He sweat dropped and told you that 1.) he’s not real and 2.) he’s a villain. You looked at him with a straight face and said he’s cool like your dad. He’s now a little worried about you

Edgeshot:

When Edgeshot asked you who your favorite Hero was you replied with Itachi Uchiha. He looked you dead in the eye and said that Itachi isn’t real. You then began to explain how Itachi is a better ninja than your dad. Edgeshot listened and was happy that you admired a good person and at least you didn’t favor villains

Kamui Woods:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was you told him Deadpool and Spider-Man. When he told you they aren’t real you told him he didn’t ask for whether they were real or not. You told him you like how they’re funny and that you want to be like Spider-Man.