large spiders

Spark is OP

(We’ve entered an expansive room littered with rows and columns of pillars that extend into darkness. Just above is the beginning of a room filling cluster of webbing)

Sorcerer: I use the cantrip Spark about 20 feet above and inside of the webs.

DM: *Nervous* Uh… Roll a d20?

Sorcerer: *Natural 20*

DM: …

Sorcerer: …

DM: Like a miniature sun that grows outwards larger and larger, burning away everything in its path, you kill 5 various large sized spiders (now blackened and crisp beyond recognition) and several smaller sized ones. Congratulations on killing off this encounter. You monster.

Sorcerer and other characters: *Roaring with laughter*

Halloween Party

Note: i don’t even…i can’t explain..ROLL WITH IT, Y’ALL. happy early Halloween!! i’m hoping to dress up as a vampire! anyways, here’s a smut post, because why not. i imagine Bucky with this hair in this? leave a comment! I love reading them! I hope you’re all doing well! .c

WARNING: It’s SMUT!! 18+ ONLY! If you’re underage and on my permanent tag list, please respect my wishes and do not read this. I’ve yet to go through and see which of you are under 18. I’m horrible, I know, but yeah. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!!

Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ was pumping through your body, the music being so loud in the hallway from the party room. Tony was hosting his annual Halloween party - which you were a tad late to - and he invited nearly half the city of New York. Your shoulders brushed against others that passed by you, dressed as cartoon characters, supernatural beings, and even dressed as members of the team.

You’ve had to do a few double takes as you made your way to the party, nearly mistaking someone for Thor a few moments ago. He wasn’t nearly as tall, but he had the muscles and facial structure. Not to mention, the whole costume was on point, down to the Mjolnir.

For Halloween, you dressed as a cat. Leather black suit, a headband with faux fur black cat ears, a faux black tail that attached to your clothed ass by a velcro strip, and heels. It was a cliche costume, but it was last minute this year. You added the whiskers and nose with eyeliner to finish the look.

Plus, you already had the accessories from using them in the bedroom, so why not use them for this? Nobody would know.

Well, Bucky would.

The music was even louder as you stood at the entry door - you had to stop to take everything in. Ghosts hung from the tall ceiling, spider webs were littered over the walls with orange and purple fairy lights tangled in them, the tables had a large spider as a centerpiece, and fog rose above your ankles. The snack table had creepy looking snacks, a huge zombie cake was in the middle and was nearly half gone, and the punch bowl resembled blood.

Tony does not disappoint. He had planned this party in only a few days and it looked as if it had taken forever.

You smiled as you weaved your way through the dancing guests, searching for a familiar face. The strobe lights didn’t help, but it was easy for you to spot Steve and Sam near the bar. They were dressed as Woody and Buzz from Toy Story.

“Lookin’ good, fellas!” You hollered as you approached the two. They turned to face you and their eyes nearly fell out of their sockets as when they saw your costume. “Me-OW!” Sam gently grabbed your hand and bit his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. The team hadn’t seen your costume yet so this reaction was expected.

You laughed and shoved his chest. “Hm, couldn’t stay away from the wings, I see.” You smirked and Sam snorted, rolling his eyes. “Steve here wouldn’t leave me alone when he saw Toy Story for the first time. These costumes have been planned since August.” Sam muttered just loud enough for you to hear over the music.

Steve scoffed. “you were excited about it when I suggested it. This isn’t all on me!” He defended himself and you giggled softly. “I think you both look amazing.” You commented and straightened Steve’s cowboy hat, making Steve blush. 

“Thank you, Y/N.” You smiled and turned to face the people on the dance floor, your eyes moving across them in search for your boyfriend. “Either of you seen Bucky?” You questioned, trying to see over the tall people. Steve hummed as he looked over the crowd, searching for him. 

Bucky decided to dress up as Dracula for Halloween. His costume was also cliche, but you thought he looked sexy as a vampire. He wore a double buttoned victorian red vest over a white dress shirt and had a long, silk cape on, the inside matching his vest. His long hair was slicked back and you put fake blood drips from his lips to his chin earlier before you got ready. And when he smiles, those fangs remind you of when he bites your neck while he-

“There he is!” Your thoughts were interrupted by Sam. Your eyes followed his finger and you could see Bucky talking to Clint who was dressed up as a Mummy. Natasha, dressed up as Jessica Rabbit, was standing beside Clint. They seemed to be having a nice time, so you stayed with Sam and Steve.

“I’ll leave him be.” You turned to face the men again and watched Steve’s eyes trail down your body once more. “Don’t get all woody, Woody.” Sam snickered and Steve elbowed him quickly. “Shut up, Sam!” He whisper yelled. You couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes at them.

A few minutes passed while you spoke to them. The music was actually good this year and you were enjoying yourself a lot. A few friends stopped by a couple times, then you were left alone with the two men again. When they started talking about work related topics, you zoned out, facing the bar that was also decorated.

You hadn’t noticed that the two men left your side until a large body pressed against your backside, a metal hand and a flesh hand rest on your hips.

“Here, kitty, kitty.” Bucky’s voice was low and husky in your ear, it sent shivers down your spine. You bit your lip as he pulled you back against his crotch, nuzzling his face into your neck, giving it a small bite. “Mmm, good evening, master.” You heard the hitch in Bucky’s throat and he smirked, turning you around to face him.

You looked up at him and he squeezed your hips again. He let out a chuckle when you wiggled your eyebrows at him. “You look amazing, Doll.” His eyes focused on your slightly exposed cleavage. You felt yourself become bashful as his eyes raked over your body. He looked even better than you remembered when you helped him dress up.

“Being a vampire suits you,” You commented, watching the way his fangs shined underneath the lights. “I’d quite like you to suck my blood.” Your voice was seductive and Bucky bit his lip, the two fangs slightly poking his thick bottom lip. “I’d rather you suck me.” He whispered, moving his hands down to your ass, giving it a squeeze.

You let out a whine and started to become aroused. “Yeah? You want your cock in my mouth?” The innocent look on your face caused Bucky’s cock to twitch. He let out a harsh breath and nodded. You loved teasing Bucky and you knew exactly what to do. There was a bowl full of lollipops on the bar counter and you reached to your side to grab one.

It was cherry flavored and you unwrapped it, watching his face. Bucky kept his eyes on you, wincing at the tightness in his pants. You looked into his blue eyes as you raised the red lollipop to your lips. He gulped and you opened your mouth to lick it slowly, letting your lips wrap around it. Bucky’s eyes drooped and you let your lips come off with a pop.

“Kitten, you’re killing me.” He whimpered, playing with the tail hanging from your ass. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you grabbed his cloak, keeping the lollipop in your mouth as you pulled him through the room towards the door. You quickly made your way to the nearest empty room, which wasn’t difficult since everyone was occupied in the dance room now, all while maintaining a seductive sway in your stride.

You giggled as you pulled the lollipop from your lips and dropped it in the trash can outside the door, feeling satisfied when you heard Bucky groan behind you. “Damn, Kitten, your ass looks great.” He slapped your right cheek with his flesh hand and you relished the sting, shoving you both into an empty bedroom and shutting the door.

“Bet you want a taste, huh?” You giggled. Bucky quickly turned you around, slamming your back into the wall. You loved when he was rough with you. It took him a while to get used to it, even when he’d see you moan in bliss as he choked you, but he grew comfortable. You never pushed him and vice versa. You trusted each other.

Bucky growled and tugged down the zipper on your cat suit, unzipping it and moving it out of the way so your breasts were showing. “I fucking love these.” His teeth nipped at your breasts and you gasped when his hands squeezed them. “Bucky.” You whimpered his name and he bit down harder, eliciting a moan from you.

Your hands made their way into Bucky’s hair and he hissed, pushing his hips into you. “Are you gonna behave, Kitten?” His voice was barely over a whisper and you nodded, looking up at him innocently. “Knees. Now.” He ordered firmly. You sank down to your knees, keeping your eyes on Bucky’s. His eyes nearly closed for a split second as he watched you lower, the sight almost enough to make him cum then and there. Almost.

You reached your hands out to hold onto his thighs but he shook his head. “Keep your hands to yourself. I’m fucking your mouth.” The authority in his tone made you want to disobey and challenge him, but you decided against it. For now.

Bucky unzipped his pants and he shoved them down along with his boxers to his knees. His cock sprang free and slapped against his clothed abdomen. The sight made your mouth water and you absentmindedly leaned forward, your eyes locked on his thick member.

Bucky chuckled and his flesh fingers wrapped around his shaft. He started lightly tugging on it, the movement causing his balls to jiggle. “Mm, you’re so eager. You want me to fuck your mouth? Huh, Kitten?” He was teasing you with his words but you didn’t care. You were desperate to taste him, to feel his heaviness on your tongue.

“Please. I want it so bad.” You begged shamelessly, licking your lips. Bucky stepped forward and you sat up on your knees, keeping your back straight against the wall. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, letting Bucky slide his cock inside.

A shiver shook Bucky’s body and he gasped as you closed your lips around the tip, lightly licking as he kept sliding in. His hand left his shaft and he bottomed out, letting a groan fall from his lips as you relaxed your throat. His chest was heaving as he sat still. Tears started to form in your eyes but having his cock in your mouth and hearing the broken whimpers coming from above you, it made it all worth it.

Bucky pulled his hips back so half of his cock was in your mouth. He thrust only slightly, looking down at you as you hummed around him. You looked up at Bucky and his hips jolted involuntarily, his cock reaching the back of your throat again. “Fuck, such a good Kitten.” His voice sounded wrecked.

You moaned around him, urging him to start going faster. He chuckled deeply and rest the palm of his flesh hand against your cheek, wiping a stray tear. “Ready?” He whispered, spreading his legs a tad further apart. You nodded as best you could, causing Bucky bite his lip at the sensation.

He started to speed up and you relaxed your jaw so he could get even deeper. “Oh, that’s it. Yess.” His hands rest on the base of your skull, his fingers grasping locks of your hair. His balls started to slap against your chin and neck, and the sounds it was making caused your panties to get wetter by the second.

You looked up at Bucky through your lashes. He was a total mess. His head was thrown back, his eyes were closed, and his mouth was hanging open. You felt his hands tighten in your hair, tugging your head closer and off the wall. You gagged around him as he thrust particularly hard, your nose pressing against his pelvic bone.

“S-so good. Fuck yes, Kitten.” He whimpered your pet name and let his head fall forward. Your saliva was starting to come out from the sides of your mouth and he thought you looked so beautiful like this. He gave a few quick thrusts and gasped when he felt your tongue lick the underside.

He quickly pulled away from your mouth and you gasped for air, having not been able to properly breathe. A string of saliva connected your bottom lip to his tip. “I love your cock so much.” You wanted to lean forward again and take it, but you waited like a good girl. He smirked down at you, raising an eyebrow.

He started tracing your lips with the tip of his cock, knowing how crazy that drives you, but it drives him even crazier. “Do you?” He slid just a little in, watching as your wrapped your lips around his tip. You nodded and pulled away with a pop. “I want you to cum in my mouth.” 

Bucky gasped and creased his eyebrows, his cock twitching. You reached a hand up and began to stroke him. “Please, cum in my mouth. I want it so bad.” You spoke in an innocent voice, lightly squeezing Bucky’s cock as you jerked him off. “Oh, Kitten. Fuck.” He let out a shuddered breath and you lifted your other hand to fondle his balls.

When you noticed his abdomen tightening, you put him back in your mouth. You stroked the rest at a harder pace and sucked on his tip, moving your tongue back and forth against the underside, hitting a sensitive spot. “I’m gonna fucking cum.” Bucky growled, jerking his hips forward.

He took control again, holding your head as he fucked your mouth. You moaned and squeezed your breasts together as you stared into Bucky’s eyes. He was a gasping and moaning mess as he watched you. Suddenly his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he let out a strained groan and you felt hot spurts of his thick and salty cum coating your throat.

You moaned at the taste, furthering his orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He choked out, his thrusts faltering just a tad. You swallowed all you could in case he had more, and he always does. You felt a few more drops land and quickly swallowed the rest down.

Bucky let out a heavy breath as he pulled out, tapping your cheek, silently telling you to open up wider. You let your tongue hang out and he smiled lazily when he noticed his cum was nowhere to be seen. “Such a good Kitten.” He pulled you to your feet and you smiled, licking your lips clean.

Bucky kissed your neck as he zipped your cat suit back up. His warm breath made you shiver as he leaned into your ear and your knees nearly buckled as you felt his metal hand slide in between your thighs, his palm cupping your pussy.

“I’m fucking this kitty later tonight. I want you wet and aching for me.”

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Ya wee bunch o'cowards!

I got a chance to play again with everyone (Sexiest Zombie, Range Proficiency: Dwarf, What Did He Say?). The Party consists of Pete The Warrior, our Necromancer Friend (No one knows his name, we just call him Nec), Anges the Dwarven Boomerang(played by our former cleric DM) and Myself. We are exploring a vampires haunted castle in search for the key that leads to his quarters, we soon come up to a door that stands out.

DM: The door is cleaner and more well kept than most, it is adorned in gold and has spiders carved out of wood.

Nec: Ooooo f*ck no… Nope, no no no. No, my contract says no spiders!

Anges: Tis just a door! Pete show dis ninny ‘ow to be a man!

Pete: I’m with the necro on this one, I don’t want to die again…

Anges: Oh for the love of- FINE *Anges opens the door*

Dm: As Anges opens the door, a larger nearly empty room sits beyond the it. The floor is scattered with webs and bones, the smell of decaying flesh filling the air. You see a pedestal at the back of the room, on it sits a old key, the key that opens the way to the vampire. But just as soon as you see the key, a grotesque hissing is heard from the ceiling as two very large decaying spiders descend and block your path.

Pete: Aaaaaand those are undead spiders…

Nec: I think I just shat myself…

Anges: Ya ’re all just a wee bunch o'cowards! PETE THROW M-

Me(OOC): I run into the room, screaming at the top of my lungs, attempting to dodge the spiders, grab the key and get out!

DM: *Eye twitching* Roll me dexterity twice and apply your bonuses…

Me(OOC): *Rolls a 19 and a Nat 20, but with bonuses from enchanted equipment I dodge both spiders* I parkour around the spiders, running on the walls while still screaming at the top of my lungs. I grab the key and jump off the back wall, performing rad flips over the spiders before landing halfway across the room, then back out! I slam the door behind me shut and bar it shut before looking back at everyone.

*Everyone is staring in disbelief*

Me: I think that went well…

DM: Those were suppose to be bosses…

  • Do not pick up any large brown spiders unless you’re sure they’re a wolf spider or not, otherwise you might end up accidentally waving a brown recluse in your manager’s face.
  • Do not attempt to physically engage with the iguanas because they do not fight fair and are sharper and sharp in more places than you might expect. This becomes more and more true the more orange they are.
  • There are large bugs that look like Animal Crossing beetles that come out after hurricanes in areas that aren’t treated for certain types of bugs. They are called toe-biters, and will liquefy the flesh where they bite. Do not attempt to collect them, because no museum will take them.
  • Florida is essentially South America, and anything brought over from there will find a niche here via the exotic pet trade. Pythons do not fear national boundaries or smuggling laws. They simply exist.
  • If you see a sandhill crane with babies, respectfully look away and walk in the opposite direction. They know that you can’t match their fighting style and their fear of humans is only matched by the glory of protecting their fledglings.
The Walls Would Sing To Me.

When I was young, the walls of my bedroom would sing to me at night. I found the mysterious phenomenon soothing, and looked forward to it every night.

At eight years old, I mentioned it to my parents, and they brought me to a doctor, who concluded I had a wild imagination. This reassured my parents, and prompted me to keep quiet about it in the future.

A few years later, my father had a heart attack in his sleep while my mom was away on a business trip. That night, I woke up suddenly and quickly noticed the absence of the walls’ singing. The silence felt weird, wrong.

It was broken by a lone, strangely familiar voice.

“Young giant, your father is in trouble,” the voice was whispered. It was breathy, like silk against silk, the voice of one of the singers.

Something tickled the skin right below my ear, then dropped down to my arm. When it reached my index finger, I brought my hand to my face so I could see my mysterious companion.

A small, black spider sat on the pad of my finger. Before I could make a move to shake it off, it spoke again.

“You father is very ill. He needs a healer,” the spider insisted in the same delicate whisper before launching itself off my finger into the darkness of my bedroom.

Sure enough, when I went to check on my dad, I was unable to wake him. Later, the doctor told me that my dad would have died if I hadn’t woken up when I did.

The next day, I whispered thanks to the spider that sang in my walls. They hummed in response, and I grinned, happy with my new friends.

My father died from another heart attack when I was seventeen, prompting my mother to spiral into mental decline until her hospitalization a year later. After that, I sunk into a deep depression and ended up in an abusive relationship.

I eventually told the spiders all about my suffering, and they murmured with sympathy from their perches in the walls. A large, brown spider dropped down from the ceiling onto the pillow beside my bruised face and asked me if I would bring my boyfriend over that evening.

“We will take care of you, young giant,” it promised.

So that’s what I did. He came over and settled himself before the TV. I stood at the stove in the kitchen, barely paying attention to my cooking as I waited eagerly to see what the spiders had in store.

He started screaming as the pasta finished. He had stopped by the time I had drained it and added the sauce. I ate my meal happily as I waiting for the police to arrive.

They said he died of a brain aneurism. Tragic, they said. Yes, I agreed, very tragic.

That night, I slept soundly, lulled by the gentle music as my friends sang from their homes in the walls.

To woo the Widow Queen, or why do these things happen?

alright well here is the situation. our group has just lost our homes, lively-hoods, and in the case of our dwarf chef/alchemist, like 70% of his clan. we are on edge and have gone to the nearest city for supplies as we continue our travels to take another character home. in the (now ghost town, everyone was killed in another game in the same universe) city we encounter something undead so we set fire to the city and go a safe distance away. as we watch hordes of spiders, normal and magical, and Vampire pour out of the flaming city. Then a large long half spider lady charges at the group so my character (jutonfolk brewmaster/alchemist) plants himself for the charge. rolls to hit and it is a natural twenty. she fumbles to rip the weapon from his hands (which anything other than that would have done it since it turns out she is a hero-god).

then someone say something to the effect of, “i think you should kiss her” and i just had to reply.

“well i do love strong women.” I am then told to roll for it. another natural twenty.

My jotunfolk bartender character is then kidnapped and carried off. much to the shock and laughter of everyone.

not so spider-man after all

↳ tom holland head canon

requested by anon x

warnings: language 

Originally posted by tom-holla


  • you’d think after hearing endless boasts of: 
    • “BUT DARLING, I’M SPIDER-MAN” 
    • and
    • “you’ve got the strongest boyfriend of all, i’m practically an avenger myself” 
    • and the best of all, 
    • “i’m spider-man, so shut your face” 
  • your boyfriend would actually live up to his promises
  • oh how the tables have turned
  • as you were looking for a pan while cooking breakfast, you stumbled across a rather large spider roaming around the floor beneath the cabinets 
  • since you weren’t very fond of spiders, a loud shriek had left your mouth 
    • “TOM, HELP,” you’d yell out, hoping your boyfriend could kill the spider or take him outside 
  • tom came hurtling into the kitchen, coming to a halt as he saw you scurrying away from the cabinets 
    • “what?? are you ok? you look fine??” 
    • “there’s a spider right there” 
    • “oHFUCK”

Keep reading

how south park characters react to seeing a large spider

kyle: yelps, and proceeds to smack eric for laughing at him

eric: throws a cheesy poof at the bug, and laughs at kyle for getting scared

stan: slowly backs up and repeatedly yells “what the fuck dude”

kenny: literally didn’t even see it

butters: clings on to tweek and cries a little

craig: tells everyone to “let it live”, but then proceeds to smack it with his bare fucking hand

tweek: scREAM SO LOUD and he’s convinced it’s trying to kill him. he also clings on to butters

clyde: “wWAHHHhhHHh”

jimmy: gets v startled and wHACKs it with his crutch, but he also makes a dent in the wall

token: tells everyone to calm the fuck down, gets a cup to put the spider in, and releases it into the backyard. he’s fucking scared tho internally

Snail in amber.

It’s quite uncommon for anything larger than an insect to be trapped in tree sap, since most larger creatures can just wriggle out (including larger insects, hence the great rarity of large spiders or scorpions). Sometimes though, something out of the usual turns up, such as this critter trapped in Baltic amber, the remnants of 44 million year old Eocene tree sap.

Loz

Image credit: The Amber Gallery

The Weaver

*continues to throw things at you because Reasons, mostly to do with the fact that this is awesome*

There was once a girl at Elsewhere who spoke to spiders.

She would study their webs, snapping pictures with her cheap instant camera and, later, studiously recreate them with graphite and ink. For the first eight weeks of freshman year her roommate hated spiders, then one evening she opened the door to see ‘him’ feeding the tarantula that had taken up residence in one corner. She never mentioned the odd teeth or the hollowness of his back, and quietly moved all the iron out of the room, bit by bit (except for the bracelet she wore and the old washers she hid in her pillows).

That was when she started weaving.

As a child she had been the one who came home with muddy shoes and dirt smeared on her face and clothes, only willing to take a bath when her father (single, divorced, but still won sole custody - a rarity in 1960’s America) demanded it of her. She grew into the girl in the oversized sweaters that were as comfortable as they were ugly, the sleeves stained with food, ink, and occasionally blood, and never paid attention to what anyone else said - mostly because she never heard. The bloodstains might have been from picked pimples and accidental nicks from the whittling knife she kept hidden in her shoe, but nobody else knew that, and she was a tall girl - six feet even - with the broad shoulders of a swimmer whose father taught her how to punch and kick and scream. So when she went to Elsewhere, the textile industry was the last thing on her mind. She wanted to be an artist, to carve stories and emotion out of wood blocks.

But then, on her first day, she found a large, hairy, potentially deadly spider sitting on her not-yet-made bed when she came out of the bathroom. She shrieked, of course - the spider was nearly the size of her pillow - and grabbed for the plunger next to the toilet (school plumbing was always going to be shit, no matter what school it was). She did not, however, try and hit the spider - don’t hurt the animals, even the bugs was one of the first things the told you at Elsewhere, right after wear your iron and keep salt in your pockets.

So instead, she took a nervous step forward. “Do you need help?” she whispered.

The spider didn’t nod - couldn’t - but the feeling brushed past her face like faint tendrils of web. Yes.

She swallowed nervously. “What do you need?”

The feeling brushed past her face again. Take me.

Her face blanched as certain meanings of the phrase came to mind as she immediately tried to scrub the images away because oh sweet Jesus NO. “Where…where do you need to go?”

Under the hill.

She swore (in Latin) - but the spider rode her yellow rubber plunger to the entrance under the hill, and when she woke up the next day she found a shawl folded neatly at the foot of her bed, made of a strange, silvery material - soft as a daydream and impossible to damage.

She switched her major to textile production that afternoon, and if you needed something stitched or mended, she was always willing - for a price. When she left, she moved back home and started up her own business, taking in customers both humanly and inhumanly strange, accepting payment in oddities as well as in the swipe of a credit card. Everything is handmade on a wooden loom, and everything has its place.

Everything has a story.

[x]