Aries: Something old. Something without teeth or eyes, dragging its great tendrils along the ocean floor, trawling for the corpses of leviathans.
Taurus: Something fast. Something hidden by the dust storms. Something with wings and paws and talons and a beak. A golden blur from a rising savannah sun.
Gemini: Something drawn to the sites of naval battles. Hardened, twisted shells adorned with the eyes of dead sailors. Casualties of war pressed into grim pearls.
Cancer: Something that looks like a hen. Something that disguises itself among the others in the coop. Rotten eggs. A second, gaping maw.
Leo: Something with a sting worse than death. A mane of quills. Pellets of bone and hair. The king of the arid mountains.
Virgo: Something that sits just below the water. Long flexible antennae flashing to mimic the dancing of fireflies. Whiplike, threshing tentacles covered in stinging barbs.
Libra: Something pure white. Great wings and soft fur host to intoxicating spores. A great proboscis for feeding on sleeping giants. Thousands of lidless, orange eyes.
Scorpio: Something slow and heavy. Powerful arms terminate in claws meant for digging. Something that hates the corpse-eaters. Something that plants seeds atop the unburied.
Ophiuchus: Something like a tree stump, dragging itself along the ground on strong, gnarled roots. Following large prey until it dies of exhaustion, and replanting itself.
Sagittarius: Something fragile and light. Something that drifts with the wind on gaseous bladders, protected by its own noxious cloud.
Capricorn: Something pale and hungry. Something that feeds off trash and the insects attracted to it. Something far worse than garbage and flies.
Aquarius: Something with scales and a mane of colorful feathers. Something that hunts in packs, sharing moisture from kills.
Pisces: Something colossal. Wings like a thunderstorm and talons like massive fishhooks. Migrating from pole to pole, catching whales for their young.
Saved this larvae from the up coming storm and the cold weather outside. Small guy was crawling on a busy sidewalk and I decided to keep them until I get home and the weather clears up. What kind of larvae is this?
Can’t tell much from the photo but seems like it’d be a caterpillar.
Caterpillars have very specific host plant needs and will often eat only one type of plant. Probably best to put it somewhere sheltered near where you found it, so it can go back to its host plant and eat. If that’s not possible, I’d get close-up pics of it and submit it to some sort of bug ID blog to find out exactly what it is and what it eats, so you know either where to release it or what to feed it.
rodimus: crippling self-esteem issues hidden behind finger guns and some rad shades, financially irresponsible
ultramagnus: fear of the uncertainty of where ur life is going and also Sad bc you tend to think people don’t like u even though they do
drift: u have no idea who u are and that scares you, no one seems to be able to pin down what ur type is but ur definitely Gay
chromedome: ur 24/7 thinking abt Some Shit u did in the past that was either embarrassing or shitty or both, most likely a Sad Gay but a good friend
brainstorm: gay and a disaster – ur most likely touch-starved and excitable
ratchet: are the Parent Friend ™ but probably not by choice – ur very gay but more pragmatic than a chromedome or brainstorm so u don’t mope about ur crushes
swerve: overcompensating for somethin always, constantly gets sorted into hufflepuff, most likely a surprisingly good chef
rung: the Other Parent Friend ™, unlike ratchet doesn’t need coffee every .2 seconds to function, probably really likes plants
rung (version 2): is constantly being kinkshamed
skids: does a lot of things well but can’t figure out what their passion / their calling in life is, feels like they can do a lot of things pretty well but don’t excel anywhere, tends to be impulsive
whirl: never grew out of their punk/scene phase or is reliving it, is doing their best to recover from a lot of bad self-talk, is gay but is ready to fight always
perceptor: was the kind of person who binged the crash course videos in their free time, is gay and pragmatic but unlike ratchet or rung has a hard time identifying/labeling specific emotions
tailgate: a warm Friend, very willing to listen and encourage – another disaster gay, loses track of what they were saying a lot, means well
cyclonus: probably one of the few people not ashamed of their scene phase and feels like they learned a lot abt themselves from it, sword/knife lesbian, incredibly valid, less of a Parent Friend and more of a reliable uncle
firstaid: constantly willing to throw down in the target parking lot over things they like, very loyal friend, parents of friends and s/os like them a lot
rewind: one of those sentimental gays that likes to take pictures of their friends and family, cries about movies, doesn’t look like a top but is probably a top
nautica: enthusiastic science nerd even if they’re bad at math, space gay, probably really likes neon lights, is not involved in the Discourse, ever, a good friend to the Sad Gays
megatron: most likely to be Invalid, poetry gay, unironically likes walt whitman, is probably involved in a lot of the discourse even if they didn’t start it
for a quick change of pace–i know we’ve all seen a thousand posts about voting, but what i haven’t seen (not yet) is one saying thank you.
thank you for those who made it out in the rain and the cold, who organized and canvassed and took on the onerous task of working with non-voting & conservative friends/family to change their stance if at least just this once. thank you for those who stood in line for hours, who had to travel because your voting place was moved, who had to jump through ridiculous fucking hoops to register, who weren’t inspired but showed up anyway for the disenfranchised and the greater good. thank you as well to everyone who voted early, absentee, and provisional.
I have projects to work on that aren’t femme gladiator Megatron but at the same time BOY I want her to storm into those other projects and start sweeping people off their feet.
you will be glad to know that i suffered. and that i have no self-control and no sense of scale. i just wrote an 8k hondo/dogma fic on 1.5 hours of sleep. why did i do this. why did i ask for this. this was supposed to be short. i hope you are pleased with yourself. full fic under the cut.
Months. Years, maybe. Dogma didn’t exactly have a calendar in the tiny white room where they kept him when they weren’t prodding or poking or cutting or testing. Trying to figure out what his defect was, he supposed. He was told nothing. He didn’t even know if we was slated for death, or reconditioning, after they were finished with their tests. When the doctors came into the room for him, he never knew if they were taking him to his death or not. It was, as Kix would have put it, a “relevant stress factor”.
There were no brothers in the medical facility. The guards were all droids. Dogma had no way of getting news from the front, from Captain Rex and the rest of his brothers. He didn’t know if they were alive, dead, if they were winning the war, if Tup was doing ok without him. Sometimes, Dogma would lie on the ground and stare at the ceiling, wondering what bits of it were real and what bits he had imagined. Had he really shot a Jedi? Or did he make that up? Was there a trooper named Jesse with a republic cog tattoo? Had Dogma been part of Captain Rex’s squad, as he sometimes thought, or was it just something he’d wanted for so long, ever since he’d been a cadet, that he’d just convinced himself it was true?
Time smeared together. Dogma didn’t know if he slept anymore or not. It was impossible to tell. When they came one day and put him on a guarded transport, all hush-hush and talking like everyone Dogma knew was dead, Dogma didn’t even notice until the ship was in hyperspace.
tl;dr this woman was hearing creepy phantom nursery rhymes every night and it turned out to be a local industrial building’s alarm system, being triggered by spiders on the motion detectors
which is all well and good but “we investigated the creepy nursery rhymes, and it turns out it’s spiders” is one hell of a true statement
You left out the best part!
The alarm was at some kind of industrial building, and is apparently SUPPOSED to play creepy nursery rhymes, to deter criminals from breaking in in the middle of the night! It was just turned up too loud, and too sensitive, so it was being triggered by spiders.
That’s some creative theft-deterrent there. If you’re breaking in to a place, you kind of expect to hear a burglar alarm. You’re prepared for that, and you’re prepared to grab and go once it goes off.
But if you hear a creepy kid’s voice singing nursery rhymes at a seemingly abandoned industrial building in the middle of the night, you’re going to shit your pants and get the fuck out, in that order.
Give the guy who thought that up a promotion.
holy shit thay video is terrifying i should not have watched that alone
@copperbadge This seems right up your alley. For the retelling anyway.
I have to admit I had seen the headline several times but figured it was some kind of clickbait because what kind of alarm system plays nursery rhymes, but now I understand THE BEST KIND 😀
BettSplendens Tumblr Evac 