a spider at the center of a web

The Red Spider Planetary Nebula : Oh what a tangled web a planetary nebula can weave. The Red Spider Planetary Nebula shows the complex structure that can result when a normal star ejects its outer gases and becomes a white dwarf star. Officially tagged NGC 6537, this two-lobed symmetric planetary nebula houses one of the hottest white dwarfs ever observed, probably as part of a binary star system. Internal winds emanating from the central stars, visible in the center, have been measured in excess of 1000 kilometers per second. These winds expand the nebula, flow along the nebulas walls, and cause waves of hot gas and dust to collide. Atoms caught in these colliding shocks radiate light shown in the above representative-color picture by the Hubble Space Telescope. The Red Spider Nebula lies toward the constellation of the Archer . Its distance is not well known but has been estimated by some to be about 4,000 light-years. via NASA


He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He is the organizer of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city, he is a genius, a philosopher, an abstract thinker. He has a brain of the first order. He sits motionless, like a spider in the center of its web, but that web has a thousand radiations, and he knows well every quiver of each of them. He does little himself. He only plans.

―    Arthur Conan Doyle, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes    

opalescent-potato  asked:

You seem like the right person to ask this question: do spiders have to practice spinning webs to get good at it? Do young spiders fuck up their webs sometimes?

This is a really interesting question, and it took a bit of digging to find the right answer, which is… sort of yes and sort of no?

The ‘no’ part comes from the fact that spiders are born knowing how to spin webs- there’s no stepwise process of learning. They actually have, encoded within their genes, very specific algorithms to use when constructing webs.

Below are two figures from a paper that successfully imitated the process of building a spider web using a computer program by splitting the process into a few very simple rules:

So despite how complex the process seems to our eyes (and it would take a human some practice to get it right) evolution has split the process up into easily-encoded chunks for the spider brain to have ready from the get-go.

(This all applies to ORB webs, though. I didn’t find much information on how the construction of funnel webs, tangle webs, etc. are encoded- one would assume it’s similar, though.)

However, I DID say that the answer to your question is both yes and no. Despite the fact that the process of making a web is essentially hardwired into a spider from birth, there is still a surprising degree of plasticity (i.e., flexibility) to the behavior.

There is a lot of value to this for web-spinners because many species will build new webs every day. Studies have found that the spider’s personal experiences will modulate how they construct certain details within their webs.

For example, one study found that spiders which had recently eaten used less capture silk (that’s the sticky stuff) when they made their next web, probably because they didn’t feel like expending the extra energy when they were already full. (You and me both, spiders.)

In another study, researchers compared the number of webs a spider had spun over its lifetime with their top-bottom asymmetry. Let me explain that real quick before we go further: spiders tend to have better prey capture success when their webs have larger bottom halves than top halves. This is because orb webs are oriented vertically, meaning that a spider sitting in the very center of the web is going to reach the bottom faster than the top because of- well- gravity. Faster prey grabbing means prey are less likely to escape while the spider is scrambling over to it.

Here’s an asymmetrical web with a larger bottom half (left) compared to a more symmetrical one (right).

The researchers found two things: first, the more experienced a spider was overall, the bigger the bottom half of her web was compared to the top. However, when researchers placed more prey into the top half of the web than the bottom half, the spiders responded by making more symmetrical webs, i.e., putting resources back into the top half that they would have used in the bottom half.

Taken together, these two observations suggest that experience and learning do play a role in how a spider constructs her web, even if the main gist of it is encoded from the beginning. And that’s pretty neat!


Heiling, A. M., & Herberstein, M. E. (1999). The role of experience in web-building spiders (Araneidae). Animal Cognition, 2(3), 171-177.

Herberstein, M. E., & Heiling, A. M. (1999). Asymmetry in spider orb webs: a result of physical constraints?. Animal behaviour, 58(6), 1241-1246.

Krink, T., & Vollrath, F. (1997). Analysing spider web-building behaviour with rule-based simulations and genetic algorithms. Journal of theoretical Biology, 185(3), 321-331.

Venner, S., Pasquet, A., & Leborgne, R. (2000). Web-building behaviour in the orb-weaving spider Zygiella x-notata: influence of experience. Animal Behaviour, 59(3), 603-611.

Less Than 100 Kudos Fic Reclist

I’m getting real salty and tired of seeing reclists always, and I mean ALWAYS, showcasing fics that already get plenty of attention. Do these writers deserve it? Yes, of course, their fics are on a reclist for a reason to begin with, but what about the peeps that are already sifting through the crumbs? The ones that always get left out?

So, I decided: how about a reclist that only has fics with lower kudos counts that are also really good? How about making people that don’t normally get to feel special, special?

Thus from the fires of spite and salt, this was created! I’ll be updating it every once in awhile, and recs from other peeps are always wanted. For now, here’s a few.

(And for people that have been keeping up with my whinging today, I won’t be putting up any of my fic. GASP. Here she was, bitching about not getting put on reclists and she won’t even put herself on a reclist? Yep. Deal with it, I guess? I may bitch about not being noticed as much as my validation-starved ass wants to be, but most of my fic are over 100 kudos. I won’t throw myself where I don’t belong. Well… okay, maybe one or two, but just so I can include a middle finger emoji directed at certain fic rec list creators for making me feel unwanted and unnecessary and unskilled because of their fucking reclists. What can I say! I’m salty!)*


*I will be including a few fics over 100 kudos that I think deserve more recognition as well, because fuck you I can break my own rules

Keep reading

Linguist Staff (Okyeame), turn of the century Ghana. Magnificent gold-covered staffs like this one are carried by high-ranking officials within the courts of Akan chiefs in an area of West Africa once known as the Gold Coast. The spoken word, in the form of axioms and stories, is the repository of Akan custom and values, and a complete mastery of proverbial lore, combined with an eloquent and insightful way of conveying it, is considered the mark of intellect of highly esteemed individuals. Those who possess this knowledge and an articulate command of language may be appointed as court linguists, the most important nonroyal court officials.

This staff is surmounted by two human figures flanking a large web, with a spider positioned at its center. The finial refers to the saying, “No one goes to the house of the spider Ananse to teach him wisdom.” Ananse the spider, who brought wisdom and taught weaving to the Akan, is the originator of folk tales and proverbs and is thus linked to linguists.

You’re Just Like Your Father

    Steve sneered at Tony, deep blue eyes brimming with an intense spark of hatred. “You know, Stark, you are just like your father,” he spat, crossing his arms across his chest in a familiar gesture. His mouth opened once again, most likely to spew more insults at him, but Tony couldn’t hear anything apart from the sound of blood rushing to his head, an overwhelming roar that threatened to knock the man to his knees. You’re just like your father. That one sentence destroyed him, ruining any bit of self control that he had left. He felt himself crumble, his mind trying desperately to repair, patch up the network of cracks that ran like spider webs along the boundary that barely kept him from losing it with each passing day. They both knew it was a lost cause.

    Tony felt himself shut down, his expression turning blank, emotionless. Unfeeling, he turned his dead gaze back towards Steve, still unable to hear whatever the super-soldier was saying to him now, with that cruel grimace etched upon his features. “Sorry, Rogers,” Tony began, forcing himself to sound careless, sound like the man all the other Avengers expected him to be. The vain, self centered billionaire who couldn’t bother himself to worry about anyone other than himself. “But I’m afraid I have to get back to work. As much as I’ve enjoyed our little chat, I’ve got so much to do…” he rambled, backing up towards the elevators, not wanting to turn his back on Steve. It had been a little over two months since the Avengers and Captain America had waltzed back into his life and yet Tony was still unable to turn his back on the man, was hardly able to be in a room alone with him. As it turned out, apparently, that instinct had not been a bad one, seeing how things ended up when the two of them were left alone with each other. (Granted this was the first time but Tony was willing to bet that this would the last- at least if he had anything to say about it.)

    “Excuse me?”

    Too loud. The outraged protest Steve directed at him was too loud. Unbearably loud. Tony nearly cringed, hardly being able to hold together his cold, distant façade. “Did you not understand me, Capsicle? I said I’ve got work to do. Or is that word missing from your vocabulary? I wouldn’t be surprised if it was…” He kept creeping back towards the bank of elevators lining the wall of the corridor.

    Steve growled (Like the animal he truly was) looking as if he wanted to punch a hole in the wall. Tony wouldn’t be surprised if he did, just to spite him. Who else was going to pay for the damages? Certainly, not Steve, despite Captain America’s righteous reputation. “This conversation is not finished, Stark,” he countered, the fingers of his right-hand twitching as if they were yearning to feel the cool metal of the iconic shield beneath their tips. Too bad Tony was currently in the process of upgrading the shield, originally a peace-making gift but now it was more of a burden.

    “Too bad Rogers. Unlike you some of us actually have to get things done,” he quipped, reaching to press the down button of the elevator closest to him. “And I would hardly call this a conversation,” Tony added, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief when the steel doors opened revealing the bland, dull chamber inside.


    “Rogers!” he mocked, feeling himself slowly lose his grip on reality. If he kept pushing the Captain things were bound to get physical and while Tony was itching for a fight, he knew it wouldn’t end well for him. Steve had certainly proved that to him in Siberia. “Let. Me. Work,” he hissed through gritted teeth. His hand clenched the edge of the elevator door, the whites of his knuckles visible in a startling way.  

    Steve didn’t deign him a response, but instead glared at him, his eyes revealing as much as any of his words would have.

    For a moment, Tony stared at the super-soldier, allowing himself to feel wistful for a few seconds. He took in Steve’s defensive pose, his crossed arms, tense legs and flickering gaze, wondering what the hell happened to them. They had been friends once, hadn’t they? Looking at their latest encounter and the weeks of careful avoiding that led up to it, it didn’t seem that way. But it wasn’t unexpected, wasn’t surprising… Tony knew that, in the end, him and Steve Rogers would not be a good combination. They were explosive, volatile, a bomb that could go off at any second. And it looked as if those final seconds were finally ticking down.

    After what felt like an eternity, he ripped his gaze away from his former friend and stepped fully inside the elevator. It was only when the doors finally closed that he collapsed, back against the wall, his legs unable to carry his heavy burden of a body anymore. Shaking uncontrollably, Tony punched the number that corresponded to his workshops floor needing to get back down there, needing to return to his safe place. Needing to drown himself in numbers and equations and robotics until he forgot all about that damning insult Steve had so carelessly thrown his way. He sat on the elevator floor, eyes wide and unblinking waiting for the stupid machine to take him back down to his workshop- the place he never should’ve left. At least there he belonged.

    After what felt like an eternity, the doors slid open revealing the familiar, empty corridor. And it was quiet- so goddamn quiet compared to the screaming and the shouting and the complaining Tony had to endure upstairs in the common area. He let loose a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping forward in tired defeat. God, he was exhausted.

    You’re just like your father.

    Tony grimaced, forcing himself to rise to his feet. He wished he could just cower in the elevator for the rest of his useless mistake of a life. His steps seemed so slow, so weighed down as he began to walk towards his haven.

    You’re just like your father.

    Tony could practically see Steve’s piercing, hatred filled gaze as he spat those words at him. The complete satisfaction that settled upon his features once he released that wall-crumbling insult into the tense air. He ran a hand along the cool, smooth wall, a fraction of it to steady his shaking limbs but for the most part the action was merely to remind himself of something real. That was something Tony seemed to be lacking from his life these days.

    You’re just like your father.

    He knew those words shouldn’t hurt nearly as much as they did. That insult had felt like a shard of glass piercing through his heart or, better yet, like when the virtuous Captain America destroyed his Arc Reactor with the shield Howard had made for him all those years ago. Again, and again and again as the remark continued to ring through Tony’s shattered mind.

    You’re just like you’re father.

    He rapidly shook his head, attempting to clear his head of that goddamned phrase.  Tony threw himself towards the entrance of his workshop, stumbling slightly as his legs decided to give up on him. Clumsily, he put in his passcode, the familiar, rhymical tapping slowly calming the too-fast beating of his overworked heart. The door slid open easily and F.R.I.D.A.Y immediately greeted him with a friendly, “Welcome back, Boss.”

    This time the harsh insult was no louder than a whisper.

    “Glad to be back F.R.I.D.A.Y,” Tony responded, voice quiet and small yet not breaking. The entry-way glided shut behind him, his A.I knowing him well enough by now to lock the door behind him. He walked over to his main worktable, feeling much more confident now that he was back in his own element. “Could you pull up the plans for Parker’s new suit? I’m starting to feel a bit guilty for putting it off for so long…” He didn’t bother to acknowledge the reason behind why he had been unable to upgrade Spider-boy’s suit like he had promised. (Two words: The Avengers).

    “Of course, Mr. Stark. Where would you like me to store the plans for Captain Rogers new shield?” F.R.I.D.A.Y inquired, a slightly bitter drop tinging her usually peppy accent.

    Tony took a minute to consider his response before hesitantly saying, “In the Junk File with the rest of my other projects.” In other words, the projects that had no hope of being finished within the next decade. But, hey, Steve was a super-soldier, he had time.

    “Right away, sir.”

    “Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y.” He turned his attention to the detailed outline of Peter’s current suit, eyeing the parts he marked as desperately needing to be upgraded. Tony felt his mind settle, perfectly content with burying himself in the creation of things rather than the destruction. The cracks had not yet been repaired, but he knew work could easily fix that, patching up the gaping holes his argument with Steve had left. Although with that final insult still ringing in his ear, Tony wasn’t too sure how long that would take. So, he continued to work.

    And work.

    And work.

    Until he wasn’t sure how long it had been since that godforsaken argument. Since he had left the workshop. Well, at least he was being productive.

    Tony had just finished the final draft of Parker’s new suit and purchasing the needed materials (Who knew titanium-lined ballistic nylon would be so expensive? Quite the rip-off if you asked him) when there was a knock on the glass windows lining the outside of his workshop. He glanced towards them, startled, relieved to find that F.R.I.D.A.Y had darkened those windows without him having to give her the order to. He had been so pleased to reach his shop that he had forgotten to ask the A.I to do that (As had become typical when Tony locked himself down there). He was about to ask her who was attempting to bother him when he was working when suddenly a familiar voice called out to him.

    “Tony! Open up, man! It’s Rhodey!”

    He frowned, glancing at the darkened windows. He wasn’t really bothered by the fact that Rhodey was interrupting his work but he didn’t truly want to be bothered by anyone right now. All Tony wanted was to finish preparations for Peter’s suit and spend time with his bots. Maybe forever, he wasn’t too sure yet.

    “Tony? Please let me in!”

    But, then again, it was Rhodey. This was the man who had been there for to Tony since their days at M.I.T, who had stayed by his side when the majority of the Avengers had fled. He owed his life, and much more, to Rhodey. Shouldn’t he, at the very least, let his best friend in?

    “F.R.I.D.A.Y, open the door,” Tony ordered hesitantly, glancing regretfully at the newly finished design of Peter’s suit. Quickly, he moved the detailed image to one of his private folders before busying himself with scolding DUM-E (Who had, once again, attempted to wash the floor with coffee). He had a feeling Rhodey wouldn’t be too pleased if he found Tony consumed in another project. He didn’t look up even when he heard the thud of his friend’s footsteps behind him.

    “I’ve been looking for you for ages, man,” Rhodey greeted, planting a hand on Tony’s shoulders. “You okay?”

    He turned around, raising his eyebrows at his friend. “Since when aren’t I okay?” he responded, crossing his arms across his chest.

    You’re just like your father.

  Tony nearly cringed as the words flitted back through his mind. Damn it. Apparently, those hours of work did not solve anything. A pity, really.

    “Tony?” Rhodey looked slightly panicked, eyes wide and coated in a worried glint. “Hey, come on. Are you sure you’re okay?”

    He clamped down on his lower lip, biting down hard enough to break the tissue there. Hard enough to draw blood. “I’m sure, Rhodey,” Tony confirmed, turning just enough so that his friend would no longer be able to see his face. Or the pain that dwelled upon it.

    “’Cause, I mean, I heard about the fight you and Cap had,” he continued, hand tightening on Tony’s shoulder.

    “I said I’m fine Rhodey,” Tony assured through gritted teeth. “I don’t need you to check up on me, for god’s sake I’m a grown adult, I don’t need a babysitter.”

    His friend’s eyes darkened ever so slightly. “I know you don’t Tony but sometimes you terrify the hell out of me,” Rhodey confessed, running a hand through his shortly cropped hair. At the same time, his other hand released Tony’s arm, coming to rest, once again, at his side. “Like today for example.”

    He couldn’t help himself- Tony glanced back up at Rhodey, guiltily taking in the fear and pain that aged his features, lingered in his brown eyes. “What do you mean?” he questioned, his voice sounding unusually frail.

    You’re just like your father.

     Wasn’t he? Wasn’t it just like his dear old dad to disappear when his loved ones needed him- when Tony needed him most. How had attempting to hide from his greatest fear somehow turned him into his greatest fear? That was just like his crap luck, he supposed.

    Suddenly Rhodey’s hand was back on Tony’s shoulder, gripping tightly. “Ever since Rogers and his team of misfits barged their way back into your life, you’ve been working yourself to death. And that’s even without you shutting down,” he said, voice quiet, subdued. “You’re trying so hard to accommodate them, trying so hard to make things right when clearly it isn’t working anymore. It’s like watching a kid trying to force a puzzle piece in a place where it doesn’t belong. It’s just not going to happen Tones.”

    He could feel his lips turn down ever so slightly into a fragile frown. “Are you saying I don’t belong with the Avengers anymore, Rhodey?” And, oh God, he knew his voice was barely louder than a whisper but it sounded so loud in his head, in the comforting silence of his workshop. The question rang out, swallowing every other quiet noise being emitted in the room. All except for the one remark that was once again tearing through his head.

    You’re just like you’re father.

    “I’m not saying that Tony,” Rhodey continued, desperation heavily laced through the smooth, baritone of his voice. “All I’m trying to tell is that you’ve outgrown them. You don’t need the Avengers anymore.”

    Tony glanced up at him, fully meeting his friend’s worried brown eyes for the first time. “I can’t just leave, Rhodey,” he replied, voice cracking ever so slightly.

    That was all it took for Rhodey to wrap the invincible Iron Man into a solid embrace. “I know, man,” he consoled, running a steady hand down Tony’s back in a comforting gesture. One that his mother had used when his nightly terrors had sent him crawling into her bed in the middle of the night. “But, hey. You’re the most intelligent guy I know and you’ve got me, Pepper and Happy at your back. I have a feeling you’re going to be just fine.”

    “But what if I’m not?” This was the question that had been plaguing Tony for months. Ever since he had been left cold and alone in Siberia. “What if I’ll never be fine again?”

    Rhodey’s hand stopped moving for a long, heart stopping moment. But then the rubbing continued and the man began speaking again. “Then we’ll still be there. We won’t leave you Tony.”

     And, for a moment, he felt as if everything was going to be alright.

Wings - Yoongi

Min Yoongi 민윤기 - Dystopia!AU

Glossary - Seokjin. Yoongi. Hoseok. Namjoon. Jimin. Taehyung. Jeongguk

널 우러러보며
” - First Love

Worn down leather bench, soft wood caressing marble keys, rust suffocating the delicate insides.

The piano had been tucked into the back of university storage for years, hadn’t seen the light of day in far too long. Dust and spider webs dance across its surface. You try to recall the last memory of it being used.

It had once been on display in the center of the theatre, thin fingers dancing across the keys. You try to picture his face, the curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose but you cannot. Instead you only hear the soft rain beating down on the roof of the school and fading symphonies.

The memories dissipate like smoke into the air. The only thing you can remember are Yoongi’s words, “I think we should break up.”

They sting your eyes and you find yourself choking up simply at the sight of this piano. You look around for something, anything. Your hands land on a steel bat the baseball team used to use. It’s freezing under your grip as you furiously push desks, chairs and art supplies out of the way.

When the piano is close enough, you lift the bat, bringing it down on the wood. It cracks, the boards breaking in on themselves. Before you can stop yourself, you take out a leg, the whole masterpiece collapsing on its side.

You don’t stop there. Furiously you beat down on the keys, watching them fall out of place. Memories you’ve hidden bubble to the surface and you can begin to feel his touch against you once more.

Holding the inside of your wrist, wrapped around your waist, plump lips against your own. You remember every text, every word, every mistake. You remember how he used to call you doll and sing you his music. You remember watching Yoongi play the piano, soft chords ringing in your ears.

Though your throat feels tight and tears brim in your eyes, you continue to slam the bat onto the piano, watching as it disassembles helplessly. You let out a scream, cracking the lip into two as a memory of your first date surfaces. It burns in your head and you throw all your strength into breaking the bench.

You see yourself on it next to him, his hands guiding yours against the cold keys. The memory only spurs you to smash it more. Bits of the leather begin ripping and cracking, the legs in shreds.

For two years, you wanted him to love you. You longed for it in your heart and everything in you. He was your night and day, he was a sweet candy placed between your parted lips, he was an evil tingling that sparked at the bottom of your spine.

But all he did was play you the way his fingers delicately played the piano.

Someone’s hands wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you away. They assure in your ear that everything is okay. Something stings in your neck, you begin to feel drowsy.

Voices close in around you and your body falls to the floor. The last thing you see are the painted words:

Freedom of Expression Detainer Division 310

The End


Twelve Black Actresses who’ve provided their voices, likeness and physical performance in Video Games:

1. Kimberly Brooks | VG Credits: 53 | Notable Roles: Ashley Williams, Mass Effect (2007-2012), Daisy Fitzroy, Bioshock: Infinite (2013-2014), Barbra Gordon, Batman: Arkham Asylum (2007), Batman: Arkham City (2010), Injustice: Gods Among Us (2013)Shinobu Jacobs, No More Heroes (2007), No More Heroes: Desperate Struggle (2010)

2. Cree Summer | VG Credits: 54 | Notable Roles: Lady Belgemine, Final Fantasy X (2001), Lenne, Final Fantasy X-2 (2003); Susan “Susie” Carmichael, Rugrats games, Hylo Visz, Knights of the Old Republic: The Fallen Empire (2015), Numbah 5Codename: Kids Next Door Operation - Video Game (2005)Female Exo (player character), Destiny (2014),

3. Eva La Dare (Karen Dyer) | VG Credits: 4 | Notable Roles: Sheva Alomar, Resident Evil 5 (2009), Elena, Ultra Street Fighter IV (2014), Street Fighter X Tekken (2012)

4. Susan Dalian | VG Credits: 12 | Notable Roles: Storm/Ororo MunroeMarvel vs. Capcom 3: Fate of Two Worlds (2007), Haku, Naruto video games (2003-2011)

5. Yani King | VG Credits: 1 | Notable Roles: Riley Abel, The Last of Us: Left Behind (2014)

6. Danielle Nicolet | VG Credits: 8 | Notable Roles: Jacqueline Briggs, Mortal Kombat X (2015), Shaundi, Saints Row: The Third (2011), Saints Row IV (2013), Saints Row: Gat Out of Hell (2015)

7. Tanya Alexander | VG Credits: 1 | Notable Roles: Joslin Reyes, Tomb Raider (2013)

8. Merle Dandridge | VG Credits: 6 | Notable Roles: Alyx Vance, Half-Life 2 (2004), Half-Life 2: Episode One (2006), Half-Life 2: Episode Two (2007), Marlene, The Last of Us (2013)

9. Tina Marie Murray | VG Credits: 1 | Notable Roles: Angela Burns, Sunset (2015)

10. Cynthia Kaye McWilliams | VG Credits: 2 | Notable Roles: Holly Tanaka, Halo 5: Guardians (2015)

11. Jacqueline Boatswain | VG Credits: 1 | Notable Roles: Eileen the Crow, Bloodborne (2015)

12. Rochelle Aytes | VG Credits: 2 | Notable Roles: Rochelle, Left 4 Dead 2 (2009), Left 4 Dead 2 DLC, The Passing (2010)

Complete credits behind the cut. If you know of any other actresses, please send em my way.

Keep reading

Hello Detective Chapter 42

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14   Part 15   Part 16   Part 17   Part 18   Part 19   Part 20   Part 21   Part 22   Part 23   Part 24   Part 25   Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29 Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33   Part 34   Part 35   Part 36   Part 37   Part 38   Part 39   Part 40      Part 41   Part 42   Part 43   Part 44   Part 45   Part 46   Part 47   Part 48   Part 49 Part 50  Part 51  Part 52  Part 53  Part 54  Part 55   Part 56  Part 57 Part 58 Part 59 Part 60

 Within a few days Moriarty was to be tried at the Old Bailey, and Sherlock was named a witness for the prosecution. You stood in his living room, putting your coat on and preparing to leave for the court house. The police were escorting Sherlock there, so you had come to pick him up.

“Ready?” You asked, as you were about to open the door, knowing there would be a bunch of press outside.

“Yes.” He answered and you pulled the door open. You had brought some officers, to keep the press at bay, to let Sherlock and you get to the car safely and efficiently.

Sherlock opened the door for you and you slid in the back before him. He closed the door and the car was off.

“Remember–” you began before Sherlock cut you off.

“Yes.” He said quickly. You were supposed to brief him and make sure he didn’t do anything stupid.

“Remember. Don’t try to be clever–” You began but he cut you off again. You wondered if he was nervous.

“No.” He turned to look outside of the car.

“And please, just keep it simple and brief.” You pleaded.

“God forbid the star witness in the trial should come across as intelligent.” He whined.

“Intelligent, fine. Just try not to be a smartass. I don’t want to have to bail you out because you couldn’t control your mouth and the judge threw you in contempt of court.” You said.

“I’ll just be myself.” Sherlock stated.

“Are you listening to me? Sherlock, please.” you sighed, and the car pulled up to the Old Bailey. You left him to go find John. He was already seated, so you cat down next to him.

“How is he?” He asked.

“I think he’s going to be okay. We’ll see if he behaves himself.” You smiled, and the trial had begun.

“A consulting criminal.” The Barrister began, Sherlock was now on the stand after some opening statements.

“Yes.” Sherlock replied.

“Your words, can you expand on the answer?” She asked.

“James Moriarty is for hire.” Sherlock said, keeping his answer simple, behaving thus far.

“A tradesman?” the barrister asked.

“Yes.” Sherlock answered.

“But not the sort who’d fix your heating.” she clarified.

“No, the sort who’d plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I’m sure he’d make a pretty decent job of your boiler.” Sherlock said, eliciting a laugh from everyone.

“So far so good.” You whispered to John, he nodded.

“Would you describe him as–” the barrister began but was cut off by Sherlock.

“Leading.” He said shortly.

“What?” she asked, surprised.

“Can’t do that. You’re leading the witness. He’ll object and the judge will uphold.” Sherlock said.

“Mr. Holmes!” The judge sighed.

“Ask me how. How would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Did they not teach you this?” He asked rudely.

“I think you jinxed it.” John whispered to you as you shook your head when Sherlock looked up to you.

“Mr. Holmes, we’re fine without your help.” the judge scolded.

“How would you describe this man, his character?” The barrister asked.

“First mistake, James Moriarty isn’t a man at all. He’s a spider. A spider at the center of a web. A criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances.” Sherlock said grimly.

Suddenly a woman in a posh skirt with her hair in braids sat down next to you.

“Sergeant Gregson?” She asked, and you turned to look at her. “Kitty Riley from the Sun.”

You shook her hand that she had stuck out, just to be polite. You looked her up and down, deducing her.

“I’m not going to give you a quote, and neither is Sherlock, though you’ve already tried him haven’t you.” You whispered and rolled your eyes.

“You and Sherlock. Just platonic? Can I put you down for a no there as well?” She asked.

“I know how it feels Kitty. Waiting to be noticed, waiting for your big break. A woman in a man’s world. But you’re wasting your time here.” You told her, turning your attention back to the case.

“And how long–” The banister began again.

“No, no, don’t… Don’t do that. That’s really not a good question.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Holmes.” The judge scolded again.

“How long have I known him? Not really your best line of enquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun. He tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something.” Sherlock said.

Moriarty smirked and turned his head until it landed on you, his eyes glaring into your soul.

“Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert? After knowing the accused for just five minutes?” The judge asked. She was about to answer when Sherlock spoke.

“Two minutes would have made me an expert. Five was ample.” Sherlock said.

“Mr. Holmes, that’s a matter for the jury.” The judge argued.

“Oh, really.” Sherlock said, looking over to them.

“Oh, no.” You whispered.

“What?” John asked.

“I’m not overly fond of what follows.” You said, placing your head in your hands.

“One librarian, two teachers, two high-pressure jobs, probably the city. Foreman’s a medical secretary, trained abroad, judging by her shorthand. Seven are married and two are having an affair, with each other it would seem. Oh, and they’ve just had tea and biscuits. Would you like to know who ate the wafer?” Sherlock said.

“Mr. Holmes. You’ve been called here to answer Miss Sorrel’s questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess. Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes, without showing off?” The judge yelled.

You knew it was impossible for him not to, so as you had predicted, you were up at 6am, bailing Sherlock out of jail. You leaned against the counter as Sherlock sighed the papers.

“I told you your mouth would get you in trouble some day…” You said, slightly annoyed that he didn’t listen to you, but also not surprised.

“I can’t just turn it on and off like a tap.” He said, pulling his phone out of a baggy where it spent the night.

“Well? You were there for the whole thing. Up in the gallery, start to finish.” Sherlock said.

“Like you said it would be. Sat on his backside the whole time, never even stirred. Moriarty’s not mounting any defence.” You said, talking about his attorney.

You took Sherlock back to his flat.

“Three of the most secure places in the country, and he still managed to break into all of them within five minutes apart, if that.” You said, sitting back on the couch, exhausted.

“I don’t get why. He wanted to be caught. He’d have the jewels if he wanted to, the prisoners would be freed if he wanted to. Then why do it, what message is he trying to send with this?” You asked.

“Somehow this is part of his scheme.” Sherlock said.

You returned to your flat to attempt to get a good night’s sleep, but you knew you wouldn’t. You also knew that after this trial you might be extremely busy and never get a chance to go to the doctors. You needed to take the day and go tomorrow, during the verdict. John would be there scouting for Sherlock, so there was no need for you to be there and it gave you time to do what you needed to.

The next morning you woke up, luckily to no morning sickness. You took a cab to the doctor, and approached the receptionist.

“Hi, my name is Y/N Gregson, I had an appointment with Dr. Shephard a few days ago, but I missed it with a work emergency, I work for Scotland Yard. Is there anyway she can fit me in real quick today?” You asked.

“Why don’t you have a seat and we’ll call you in a few minutes.” The receptionist nurse smiled.

You sat nervously for a few minutes before the nurse called your name. A woman, who you could only assume was Dr. Shephard was standing at the counter with her.

“If you’d like to follow me Ms. Gregson.” She smiled and lead you back into a room and motioned for you to sit down.

“I was worried when you didn’t make your appointment, but then I saw the news and I put two and two together, Sergeant Gregson. How’s the trial going on that Moriarty man?” She asked, making small talk.

“Well the verdict is today, but they’d be crazy not to find him guilty. He was caught on the security cameras and he is mounting no defense.” You answered.

“Anyway, what brings you in here today? It’s not everyday we get our own little celebrity in here.” She smiled.

“Well, you see I think, that maybe, possibly I could be…” You stumbled over your words.

“You think you’re pregnant, but you’re not sure so you want a blood test.” She helped.

“Yes.” You nodded nervously.

“This will only take a minute, then you can be on your way. We’ll send your blood to the lab then we will call you sometime later today with the results.” She said and you nodded.

Your phone rang as you were about to have your blood taken, you looked at it then back up at the doctor.

“Go ahead and take it, we can do this while you work.” she smiled, you nodded and answered the phone while she inserted the needle.

“What’s the news John?” You asked through the phone.

“Not guilty!! They found him not guilty!” He yelled, and your eyes went wide.

“Did you tell Sherlock?” you asked.

“Yes I just told him, this is insane. Where were you? I thought you would definitely be there for the verdict.” John asked.

“I had a prior engagement. John I can’t really talk right now, but thanks for letting me know.” You said, hanging up the phone.

“We’re all done here Sergeant, if you would leave your number at the desk on your way out so we could contact you with the results.” She smiled, and lead you out the door. You were still in shock that Moriarty was a free man.

“I just need your contact information Sergeant.” The nurse at the desk asked, pushing a paper and pen towards you.

“Of course.” You filled out the paper quickly, sliding it back to her.

“Thank you…” you looked to her name tag. “Mary.”

You hailed a cab and headed to Baker Street. You decided you weren’t going to tell Sherlock anything until you knew for sure.


Author’s note: Sooo, ‘Spiderboy’ got 400 notes, which is absolutely insane, and you guys have been so supportive, and I’m so happy that you all enjoy my writing - anyway! Here is the second installment to ‘Spiderboy’! I think I will do a part 3, maybe even a part 4? All in due time! I will be posting some stuff for other characters though, as I feel I’ve been neglecting them, but there’s a lot more Peter Parker to come!

|| Part One ||

Peter Parker x Reader

Back at Stark Tower, you were busy helping your father design Peter’s suit. You hadn’t seen much of the boy ever since Tony had brought him back to your home - the upper floors were Nerd Heaven, and Peter was most likely spending hours marveling at the technology. You were more interested in the design aspect of your father’s work, and you’d been designing sketches for the Spiderman suit for a few days now - and you were pretty sure it was done. Your dad had noticed the attraction between you two, and had practically burst into the room every time you two were alone.

Keep reading


You make great villains the same way you make any great character–by making them real and dynamic. But villains must be paid extra attention because they, along with the protagonist, provide the crux of the story: the conflict.

When I talk about villains, I’m talking not simply talking about the force or figure working against the protagonist. I’m talking about the bad guy. Not every story has a villain. But when a story does have a villain, they must be done well.

Villains should be:


And to be dangerous he must be:

Active. Not some uninvolved figure the hero is trying to bring down. Your villain should be working just as hard against the hero as the hero is working against them. A disinterested villain is boring and not at all scary.

Smart. I see this cliché a lot. The climax comes about and the villain does something exceptionally stupid so the hero can defeat them. They stand there and give their spiel so the hero has time to escape/be rescued. They think “Oh, there’s no way he’ll get out, might as well call my guards away." 

Having a stupid villain makes the hero look weak, the win feel cheap, and the writer look lazy and unimaginative.

Purposeful. I don’t know any person or thing in real life who embraces evil for evil’s sake. There should always be a reason for your villain’s villainy. Similarly, your villain shouldn’t be running around being bad just to show how bad they are–that’s cheap and hollow. Everything should have purpose or it loses meaning.

Example: James Moriarty from BBC's Sherlock. Sherlock describes Moriarty as "He’s a spider, a spider at the center of a web, criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances." Moriarty is depicted as someone whose intelligence and skill is widespread, all-encompassing. He is a very powerful man with a very bad purpose, and that makes him dangerous.


Your villain and what they represent (the conflict) should have real-world resonance. Without this connection to issues in the life of the reader, the villain is only relevant within their story. That can make for an okay story, but it will never make for a great one.

Great stories are the ones that crawl inside you and live there for a while, and that won’t happen unless the reader can connect deeply with the conflicts within your story.

Your villain must stand for something bigger than themself. Every character should to an extent, but especially the hero and the villain. Think about your favorite book, show, movie, etc. Almost certainly it deals with an issue that you can connect with deeply whether it be cultural identity, social inequality, heartbreak, struggling with self-love, and on and on. You care so much about that story because it is relevant to you.

Example: President Snow. He represents something that teenagers are starting to realize is a very big issue in the real world: corrupt government. Dystopia. There are startling parallels between how the Capitol wants to spin the romance in the Games to distract from the literal murder of children by other children and how our own media focuses more on Team Gale/Team Peeta than on the horrifying themes addressed within the book and movie. The movies are their own sort of sick irony, perpetuating this issue of the rich getting richer while presumably speaking out against it.


Do not get this confused with realistic. Real simply means believable, honest, understandable. Your story is fiction, after all, so not every element of your story needs to be "realistic.”

Your villain should be as multi-faceted as your hero. This goes back to giving your villain purpose. The reader should be able to see where your villain is coming from even if they don’t agree with their actions. Your villain should have strengths, flaws and should be dealing with issues the reader can get

Example: think about how the perception of Voldemort changes throughout the series as more and more of his past is revealed. The reader begins to understand why Voldemort hates Muggles and Muggle-born witches and wizards, but his actions are never justified. 

And if you want your villain to be really fucking compelling, those many facets of their personality and desires should have a direct relationship with the hero. The villain and the hero should have chemistry so the conflict between them is amplified and made more complex. This can be done by having the villain directly parallel the hero, or having them directly oppose the hero–but honestly it is best done with some of both.

Example: the Joker (I know–you can’t talk about great villains without bringing up this asshole). In The Dark Knight, there are direct parallels between the Joker and Batman: both are just human, both technically hide behind a mask, both are incredibly smart/skilled, the Joker says Batman “completes” him, even going on to say, “Don’t talk like one of them. You’re not! Even if you’d like to be. To them, you’re just a freak, like me!”

But the Joker also compares them to “an unstoppable force” and an “immovable object.” They are so similar, but in different directions. The Joker wants chaos, Batman wants order. I read an excellent post analyzing their relationship here on tumblr and I can’t find it which makes me so sad, but it basically said that Batman represents what people can be at their very best, the Joker represents what they can be at their very worst.

That relationship, that chemistry, adds layer upon layer to the conflict, making it that much more interesting and compelling.

Villain Inspiration: Villains I Want to See in YA (Actually goes for any genre, really)

You get stopped by a spider web stretched out
from one root to another
blocking your path.
Fibers strands weave together before you,
and you know off the top of your head
that underwater basket weaving is a legitimate practice
Where the parts of said basket are kept
submerged in water.
It’s a part of the process.
(Stop making fun of it.)

You wonder why the spider web isn’t in the river.
Or if it might have been made there,
Because it’s doing a good job
of holding water, you think.

You stare into the center void of the web
and you make sense of all its connecting strands
in the background

A tear droplet gathers on one of the strands
until it gets so weighed down with grief
that it has to find a new path down to the center,
one you clearly hadn’t anticipated,

and all this time, you’re wondering,

Where’s the spider?

—  s.r (meters)
Imagine Joji// No Good For You.

For anon <3

 Joji’s genuine smile makes you realise how loud you’re laughing, you cover your mouth and lay back against the arm of the couch. your hoodie bunches up around you, the arms getting longer, covering your hands.

“So who’s idea was the Halloween party” Joji asks, relaxing as well as you calm down. It’s always fun with Joji over, you laugh, and you always have a lot to talk about. Joji’s the kind of friend that you just connected with automatically, you had been meant to be friends since the beginning of time.

“Who’s idea do you think it was” you say in a giggle, tipping your cup back and getting a sweet splash of fruit juice, with a harsh alcohol aftertaste. Joji raises an eyebrow and nods once signaling his understanding.

“Makes sense, you’re too lame to throw a party” Joji says, you scoff and throw a pillow at him, he raises his drink so it doesn’t spill, and laughs.

“Fuck off, i can too. You just watch, it’s going to be the best party you’ve ever been to”  you tell him, maybe not the best, you almost want to take it back but you can’t. Daniel walks into the room from the hallway and looks down at you both.

“Hey, I’m gonna hit the gym, I’ll be back” Daniel dips to give you a kiss on the cheek, you smile and watch as he leaves. His blonde hair covered by a beanie, he’s wearing that shirt that makes his chest and shoulders look bigger.

“He been working out a lot lately” Joji asks, taking a long drink.

“Yea, i don’t know, just a kick he’s been on” you say, standing and heading towards the kitchen. You dump the rest of your drink down the drain and rip open a bag of chips, crunching on a few then walking back over to Joji. 

“that’s cool, i guess” Joji says, you shrug.

“He’s kind of a bruh now” you say using bruh as a verb, the type of guy who works out, and snapchat’s his progress… everyday. 

“You know what he’s been listening to? techno” you say, you hate techno, its annoying.

“Like jessica?” Joji asks, you nod, same songs and everything.

“I hate it, i mean the remixes are cool, what they do to other songs. Not just constant metallic noises, i don’t get it” You say, feeling the alcohol take a bit of an effect.

“It’s okay sometimes” Joji says, grabbing your chips, you narrow your eyes as he shoves a handful into a mouth, raising an eyebrow as if to challenge you. Joji is up before you can lunge forward fast enough, you scramble up and he holds the chips above his head.

“cocksucker” you say reaching for them, you lean against him, trying to pull his arm down. it doesn’t work. Joji looks down at you, kind of a nice angle to see you at. Your eyes wide, focused, lips pursed, on your tiptoes against him. You give up and step back, crossing your arms in a pout. Joji laughs, and looks you over before handing the chips back.

“you fucker they’re pulverized!” you say, you cant help but laugh though. looking up at him. Joji has such a solemn expression on his face, a soft smile, like he’s admiring you. The bag seems to be lighter in your hands, you feel a bit lighter. A blush spreads over your cheeks and you look away.

“I just don’t know what i’m supposed to serve yaknow” you say balling up the bag, and throwing it into the trash can from where you stand, you miss.

“weak…” Joji says, you scowl at him playfully, and he smiles.

“I don’t know, pizza is always a go to” Joji says, picking the crinkled bag up and shoving it into the trash can.

“pizza gets cold too fast” you say, walking back to the couch and plopping down cross legged.

“Well then think of something that should be cold, or like room temperature at least” Joji says, sitting next to you.

“ohhhh what about those sandwiches from that place, i could order a huge one, or two! theyre so good, i could cut them up and have a whole bunch of chips, and other stuff” you say, excited about your idea.

“Those are the best” Joji agrees, but it seems like his mind is somewhere else…

“you okay Jo?” you ask lightly reaching to touch his arm, he looks down, and he seems to be brought out.

“uh yea, jut tired, i should probably go” he says, standing up.

“what? loser… fine. Promise you’ll be here for the party, I’ll personally blame you if I’m stuck with all of Daniels new muscle head friends, and the usual Halloween whores” you say, Joji chuckles.

“Yea I’ll be here I promise” he says. pausing before he opens the door, but he doesn’t say anything, he just resumes and steps outside.

“night” he says, turning back to face you, you smile.

“g’night” you say with a sweet smile. Joji’s lips part, as if he’s going to say something, but he just smiles and shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks away. You don’t pay much attention to it.

Stefano’s Italian deli isn’t as crowded as it usually is, you reach the front fo the counter and stefano smiles. The smell of salami, and freshly sliced prosciutto is in the air, making you hungry. 

“ayeeee it’s my favorite customer!!” he says, you laugh

“awe i bet you say that to all the girls” you say acting bashful dramatically. stefano grabs an order paper.

“alright, i got a monster for you, i want two of the cousin nadia’s, everything on em” you say, you had asked him once why he calls them cousin nadia’s

“when i married my wife, i hadn’t met her family, she lived in the states. So when i came, i met her cousin, Nadia. Biggest woman i had ever met!” The story still makes you laugh, you tell it sometimes and might even break it out tonight. stefano smiles, and writes everything down, he always likes a challenge.

“oh! and some of those peppers that bella makes!” you say to him as he disappears behind the counter. stefano has everything down quickly, he’s a fast little man. he hands you both huge sandwiches in a large bag, and a half a pound of the peppers you love.

“thanks so much stefano” you say, handing him the money.

“anytime my love!” he says as you leave, you take out your phone, and text Joji.

“Alright I got the food taken care of, with an hour to spare, you’re still coming right?” you ask. you put everything in the back seat of your car and close the door, feeling your phone vibrate when you’re done.

“i promised didn’t i” it says, you smile, and get into the car.

“No, more over… there!” you say, Daniel drops the large circular table in the very corner of the room, almost touching the walls but you don’t want to leave scuff marks.You draped a deep purple lace cloth over it, and in the center you have one of those trick crystal balls. The kind that show your reflection in the center, decaying and growing old.you place large bowls of candy all around it and look over the rest of the house.Over in the kithen, you’ve got mounds of candles, it was a project you’d been planning for months. Large chunky candles melting over one another, looking creepy as hell. some lone candles to make it spread out. the kitchen light is dim. All of the lightbulbs in the livingroom and kitchen have been replaced with purple ones, one that flickers a bit randomly. The fog machine is on low hidden under an end table, and pointed into the livingroom where you’ve lined green lights along the wall. Fake spiderwebs placed onto the couch,  and up the walls to gather in the center. A realistic, and horrifying spider is burried deep, with little spiders spilling all over.you strung up some red christmas lights in the web to make it look more spooky.you hung bats in the hallway to scare anyone that has to go to the bathroom.Pumpkins cover the coffee table, clear bowls inside containing chips and pretzels. All of the lightbulbs in the livingroom and kitchen have been replaced with purple ones, one that flickers a bit randomly. Making sure everything is in the correct spot is the last step, and that’s the step you’re on. The green gooey pudding makes you giggle every time you see it. The larg tray of sandwiches is on the counter, with a large stack of paper plates. Time to fill the bucket up. you bought a large wooden-seeming bucket from a farmers market. The bag’s of ice sting your hands, as you empty one after the other into it. you shove beer and soda, and juices all over, then for a festive feel you place random red and green apples all around it. The doorbell rings and you brighten up immedeatly, almost running for the door, you stop and backtrack, turning on the music before you open the door.

“whooooa-ohhhh!!” Daniels friend Trevor says.

“yea!!! kickass! this looks amazing, you did great!” his brother, Travis says. You smile softly, and motion for them to come in.

“This is dope” Travis says again as he walks in. Your glad they like it, but you were hoping Joji would show up just to make sure you got everything right, you’re sure theres something you forgot. Joji would remember whatever it was, you look at your phone, no new texts. More people start to file in and compliment you. You smile and nod, walking into the room to get your costume on.The white button down is long enough to not show anything that shouldnt be shown, you pull up tall white socks, and grab the sun glasses. The party is already lively as you enter.

“Risky business?” You hear, but you cant see a thing with these glasses on and the lights so dark. You shove them into your breast pocket and see Joji.

“of course he would know” Daniel says, walking away from the hallway and the both of you, you’re a little confused… Joji runs a hand through his hair.

“where’s your costume?!” you ask, looking him over, he’s just got a hoodie and jeans on.

“I’m a uh… college student?” he offers an excuse, you roll your eyes.

“Let’s make you a cat” you smile, he shakes his head no but you’re nodding your head yes. Joji laughs as you draw whiskers on his cheeks, having already put the fake ears on him.

“I am going to be the prettiest girl at the party” he says, making you laugh as well, he’s leaning against the kitchen sink as you put eyeliner on his cheeks and nose. You look down at his lips, parted a bit, his lips arereally… something arent they? For a moment you forgot what you were doing, you look back up at Joji and he’s watching you… You go back to his cheeks and make the lines darker. When you’re done you hear laughter behind you, some people seem to be watching and it seems they liked your idea. you take a bow and gain some laughs.

“see, i was right” you say, Joji rolls his eyes, but softens.

“Yea you were right, this is the best party I’ve been to” he says softly, you feel warm inside, and smile back. Joji’s eyes trail behind you, and he tenses a bit. you look over and see jessica over by Daniel, in a slutty nurse’s costume. You’re a bit jealous… but not very. Which you know is a bad sign, you should be reeling.. but you’re not. Daniel has been distant lately, and it’s made you question whether you even really cared about him in the first place. That’s the first time you’ve ever let yourself get the entire thought out, you don’t like the idea of breaking up with Daniel. You stay in denial, and look back at Joji.

“Do we need a music change? Will you change the music?” you ask, not wanting to go over there, Joji nods, and walks across the room, he grabs the Ipod you’ve got hooked up and puts something more upbeat on, you smile, and relax against the counter. Joji motions behind you, and you know he means the balcony. You walk through the kitchen and open the sliding glass door letting some cold air in and hope someone thinks it’s a ghost. you take a seat in the patio furniture. Joji closes the door and sits across from you at the table, looking up.

“Don’t look at me like that, Jessica’s a whore. Slut’s be slut’s right?” you say shrugging.

“Didn’t seem like Daniel was doing much to let her know he wasn’t interested” Joji says, you roll your eyes.

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore” you say, placing your elbows on the table and rubbing your face.

“The party is, really awesome, it looks incredible” Joji changes the subject, you smile.

“Thanks Jo” you say, he looks over at the door, and sighs, laying against his arm as well.

“you can go back in, I’m fine seriously” you say, trying to prove yourself.

“No, no i was just thinking how i really don’t want to go back in there” Joji admits, you tilt your head.

“I have more fun just you and me” His voice is soft, you swallow hard and look away again. That warm feeling coming back. Joji knows he isn’t supposed to want you, You were dating Daniel when he met you, but he can’t help it. When he met you everything clicked and you got along great, he hasn’t had anyone like that in his life for a long time. Even when you’re just watching a movie, your little comments, or the way you lay down, it’s all attractive.

“That’s because we hate people” you huff a laugh trying to lighten the mood.

“no it’s not… It’s because we just, have more fun together. I mean… I don’t think about doing anything without you anymore” Joji says, just like you wanted to make sure he was coming to the Halloween party. It isn’t okay unless he’s around, Joji is the only thing you like about being here. But that cant be true, you have Daniel, you can’t do that to him.

“Joji don’t.. fuck around like that it isn’t funny.” you say, shaking your head and standing up to walk away, He stands up too blocking your way.

“no I’m not kidding, I know it’s fucked because you’re with Daniel, but i… i fucking hate Daniel. Daniel is a douchebag, he’s a total tool and i dont understand why you’re with him. He’s no good for you. You’re so different, you’re smart, and you have depth, Daniel…” Joji trails off. “I don’t think he appreciates that” he finishes.

“How do you know? are you in Daniel’s head?” you defend Daniel, Joji sighs.

“No but the guy’s so dense it isn’t hard to figure out what he’s thinking” Joji says, irritated that you don’t see it. You shake your head and sigh walking past Joji and o the door, you open it and look over at the livingroom. Everyone’s dancing, the party was a hit, and there’s your boyfriend. Smack in the middle grinding up on nurse Jessica. You walk over to them and push Daniel back off her Jessica says nothing.

“what the fuck?!” Daniel says, slurring his words to you. He seems to have had a lot to drink, he might not even know it’s you in front of him. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, every time you went to the club he’d find someone to dance with. Joji steps between you and him.

“come on, you’ve had enough, maybe you should lie down” Joji says, Daniel scoffs.

“This fucken guy” Daniel says, laughing at himself like he told a great joke.

“yea, alright come on” Joji says, helping him walk towards the back room.  Daniel fights against Joji, so Joji simply lets go and takes a step back. Daniel falls against the floor with an ooof. The party gets a bit quiet, some people file out the door awkwardly. the others are too drunk and wanna see the scene.

“You stupid mother fucker!” Daniel slurs, scrambling to his feet, and lunging at Joji, who just steps aside and lets him hit the wall. Joji looks really mad though. You watch as Daniel gets up and get’s into Joji’s face, Joji’s face is stone cold, and Daniel looks like he might be drunk enough to try to hit him.

“That’s it!! i want you out of here! get your shit and leave!!” you shout, running in front of joji and pushing Daniel back again.

“what did you just say?” Daniel says, standing up straight.

“I’m so done with your shit, I’m done, we are finished. I want you to get your shit, right now, and get the fuck out” You repeat yourself, you’re shaking, and you feel like you might cry at any second.

“Well fucking, fine then!! i don’t even care about you!! and guess what” he whispers stepping close, Joji tenses up and Daniel smiles at you.

“you need to back the fuck up” Joji’s low voice comes from behind you, Daniel looks up at him, with an almost fearful expression, he stands up.

“I’ve been fucking Jessica for months” he says, you feel it coming, but its not tears, it’s rage. before you know it, your hand flies across his face, hard. So hard it stings you, and leaves a red mark on him. Daniel, staggers a bit and smiles over at you.

“what are you mad??? mad that she fucks better maybe” Daniel continues with a laugh, you feel Joji push by you, he grabs onto Daniels shirt and drags him out the door. Slamming it hard behind him. Joji seems really tense.

“everybody needs to leave, party’s over” Joji says, opening the door back up.

“you two can take your friend with you” Joji says to the two muscle heads that came for Daniel. Everyone files out the door, and you sit down on the couch, tired of this shit. Joji sits on the couch as well, but all the way on the other end.

“I’m sorry” Joji says, you look up at him, he rubs his hand over his mouth. “I figured you’d just, see it, and eventually break up with him. I figured you’d wind up breaking up with him, and then, i don’t know” Joji says, you look up at him

“you knew?” you ask, almost hurt, Joji looks up.

“What would you have done if i told you? I only knew as much as you told me, and when he started listening to techno and acting like an ass around me, i just knew. I didn’t want you to wind up hurt… but if i told you… you’d just be angry with me” joji says, he didn’t want to hurt you, so he was just there for you.. you move over and wrap your arms around Joji’s neck.

“thankyou” you say.

“for what?” Joji asks.

“For always being here” you say, pulling away. Joji softens a bit, and you watch as he leans into you, you close the gap and press your lips against his. Kissing Joji feels right, it’s every warm feeling he’s given you, and every thrill, every butterfly all wrapped up into one. 


written for @surfacage‘s newest greatest Pokemon Go comicsome dialogue was borrowed (with permission). 

I personally view Blanche as gender-fluid, but for comprehension’s sake, Blanche was given the pronoun “her”.
- - - 
Something was wrong. He didn’t know for certain what, but something in the bottom of his gut was telling him he was needed.

Like a lightning bolt, Spark darted through the woods that surrounded the clearing of his gym on the high mountain. He knew its terrain better than any trainer under him and he quickly zipped through the trees, pulling a Pokéball from his hip just as the trees began to thin. 

“Pidgeotto, go!“ 

The great Pokémon appeared above him, its wings spread wide as it soared through the air, taking a moment to stretch its feathers. Spark kept his gaze ahead of him, his sights set on the approaching cliff and the magnificent view of the valley below. With one great leap of faith, he threw himself over the edge and for one adrenaline-pumping moment, he flew. But before he could begin his quick descent back to the unforgiving earth below, Pidgeotto streaked towards him and ducked under his fall, catching him with practiced grace on its back. 

With a clear view of the valley before him, Spark suddenly understood what had made him feel so anxious. The large, blue and white Tower of Mystic’s gym was engulfed in smoke. 


Without waiting for a command, Pidgeotto soared towards the once-glorious building at an impossible speed. Spark’s bright orange and yellow gloves protected his hands from the bite of cold air and his dark jacket billowed out around him as the large Pokémon circled the blue needle at the top of the tower. The once intricate and sparkling glass was now cracked and broken, and like silent birds of prey, they revolved around the needle until they found an opening they could dart into. Inside, Pidgeotto found a high perch to settle on to overlook the gym. 

A horrible feeling welled in Spark’s chest as his bright eyes took in the destruction below. Giant shards of glass from the supporting pillars and ceiling littered the gym and the once-flawless diamond floor now held spider web cracks that stretched across the entire length of the battle arena. The worse of the damage was in the center, where Blanche was lying unmoving with her Pokémon just as injured beside her. However, she was not alone.

Candela, the third major gym leader of the region, was beside her, but she was in no better shape. Her jacket was torn and the Flareon that never seemed to leave her side was sprawled on its side. This was no Pokémon Battle. This was an attack. 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to see Team Rocket standing across from the pair with an army of Pokémon behind them. It was not the first time the infamous group had attempted to take one of them down in sake of destroying their gifted power; but this was on another level Spark had never seen before, and though the trio squabbled like siblings, there was anything one wouldn’t do to protect another. 

"Down,” Spark ordered.

Without hesitation, Pidgeotto sprang into action, its large wings flapping to life before they descended downwards towards the party. Team Rocket noticed his approach at the last second, but before they could ready an attack, Spark dropped to the floor as Pidgeotto used its large wings to send a biting gust of wind in their direction before it retreated once more to the high perch. 

“Spark!” Candela called. Her tone was equal parts surprised and relieved.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Now that he was closer, he could see the other gym leaders were better off than he first suspected but neither looked able to continue their fight. Blanche was sporting a rather nasty cut to her arm and Candela’s cheek was bruised. The injuries made his stomach twist in knots.

“Better late than never,” Candela smiled.

She gathered Blanche further into her arms as heavy-booted steps thumped behind him. He turned as a member of Team Rocket stepped forward, obviously presenting himself as the leader. Spark didn’t recognize him, but the smugness surrounding him was undeniable. “Well, look who decided to join us, boys. If it isn’t the baby of the Big Three.”

At the insult, Spark’s eyes narrowed dangerously. However, it was Candela that spoke first: “The Big Three.” Spark didn’t need to glance back at her to know there was a confident smirk etched into her face; he could hear it in her voice. “I think you forget that Spark earned his title, just as Blanche and I did.”

“There is more to a gym leader than power and ability,” Blanche added. “It is equal parts ambition, wisdom, and instinct.” Her voice was rough, but it still held the undertone of a confident, experienced trainer and leader.

Spark stood slowly as he adjusted the cuff of his gloves. The doubt was evident in the leader’s expression, but he merely faced him head on as the anger began to boil just under his skin. No one touched Blanche and Candela without answering to him.

“Team Leader? Don’t make me laugh.”

“I think you forget you’re standing in water,” Spark murmured. He could already feel the power of Zapdos spreading through him, like little pinpricks of lightning running through his veins, causing his body to vibrate with building power as his skin broke out into goosebumps. “And you know what electricity loves?”

Confusion rippled through Team Rocket, but he didn’t give them time to answer as the beat of wings reached his ears.


A monstrous clap of thunder reverberated through the air as a bright bolt of lightning blinded them. In a moment that seemed to last forever and yet only an instant, it was gone, leaving deafening silence in its wake as the three leaders found themselves alone once more. What remained of Team Rocket was nothing more than a giant hole in the glass doors of the Tower’s entryway.

Relaxing his stance, Spark scratched the back of his neck as he glanced back at the other leaders. “Sorry about the door, Blanche.”


I’m often amazed at what develops from the pictures I take. This lone dandelion in a sea of autumn grass was what first caught my eye. It was only later that I saw the tiny spider (lower right-hand corner) in the center of an intricate web spun from the tip of one blade of grass to another. Here I was thinking how singular, small and fragile the dandelion looked…
There’s always more to every story.

(rights reserved, leave credits * please reblog but not to nsfw 18+)


Imagine finding out Dean has been cheating on you.

Requester: onlysightlyimpossible

Song: Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood

Word Count: 1,168

Though the picture in your hand wasn’t very old, little white lines bordered the corners like spider webs spreading from bent edges and accidental creases. The faces in the center remained untainted by time. They were, however, smeared with motor oil and stretched wide with toothy grins. Your past self was leaning up against the Impala with assorted tools all around you and Deans arm slung over your shoulder, his lips pressed to your cheek.

You had to admit, even now, it was a good picture. Good enough that you took the time to put it in a frame and hang it on your kitchen wall. You had laughed at yourself even then, and Dean did too. You weren’t exactly known for being sentimental and the small act was very out of character.

Although, back when you were wild with the frenzy of young love, you had a habit of doing a lot of things that were out of character.

Your back pocket buzzed impatiently and you pulled out your phone, still staring down at the photo frame in your hand. The smile you wore seemed to mock you now.

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