the answer to that one debate is right here

3 Kinds of INFP

All INFP’s share the same cognitive functions, however differences in behavior and motivation can be quite drastic. The best explanation for these kinds of differences is Enneagram. Enneagram is a personality theory that assesses trauma, motivation and behavior, it can be used along side MBTI as they do not cancel each other out in any way. Any MBTI type can potentially be any Enneagram type. Unlike MBTi, where the point is to develop INTO the best your type can be, the point of Enneagram is to develop OUT of your type, basically categorizing it as a self-help tool. INFP’s are often enough one of 3 types. It is absolutely possible to not be one of these types, and my description of each kind of INFP will not correspond directly with the broader scale of each enneagram type (example; I’m explaining what a type “X” INFP looks like not what a type “X” looks like) I have met or am each of these types of INFP and here is my assessment:

Type 4 INFP

Type 4′s are often called the “Individualists”, “Romantics” or “Artists”. This makes up the biggest portion of INFP’s. I’d say almost half. This is the classic INFP. The feeler, the lover, the emotional and rhapsodical idealist. The princess in her castle, the poet writing in water, the passionate artist. This type of INFP puts alot of weight on Fi and the Fi truly “wields” the Ne. This Fi is organic, true, and uncompromised by anything. Type 4 INFP’s are likely to feel the greatest depths of pain and sorrow of any of us. Type 4 INFP’s might describe emotional pain as so real it physically hurts. With that passion comes poetry, art, and beautiful written word. This type is likely to have deep moral convictions based on ethics and empathy. This type of INFP is highly dramatic, bringing to mind shakespearean theatrics. This can manifest as scathing drama, emotional appeals to the heart or just general hellfire and brimstone. Certainly the most likely type of INFP to cry and/or throw a fit when they feel overlooked or invalidated. Has the speech pattern of someone writing in their diary. This type tends to be a wallflower due to being unable to conform to social norms or put on a face for anyone. May be a person of few words due to only being able to be honest. This kind of INFP is highly individualistic, craving authenticity more than any other type of INFP. They’re likely to see trends, fashions, cliques and fame as highly detestable. The type of INFP to hate and never want to be “the cool kids”. This kind of authenticity is very attractive to those who love authenticity and originality, as these INFP’s have it in spades. Always interesting and always unique, these INFP’s can be highly cherished by friends and family and highly sought after as lovers. This subset of INFP’s might be the most romantically minded of any other subset of any other type. However, they are plagued by fears of being abandoned, and when alone, wish for someone to come and save them. Type 4 INFP′s believe that someone (or something, maybe a religion or philosophy) is going to come into their lives and make them whole, and can have trouble generally feeling whole in and of themselves. Overall, this kind of INFP’s personifies on of the most lovable subsets of human beings. Genuine, authentic, passionate, and creative. This kind of INFP is capable of the most beautiful and genuine expressions of human emotion of just about anyone. 

Type 9 INFP 


This type of INFP is also very well known but less of the population than Type 4′s. Type 9′s have been called “The Peacemaker” or “The Mediator”. This Type of INFP is very sensitive to conflict and great at seeing others perspectives. This INFP is great at giving advice and helping with others problems and generally being a caring shoulder to cry on. Often being mistaken for INFJ’s, Type 9 INFP’s still have staunch values and an openly hyperactive mind, they’re just less pushy about their views. This Type of INFP can be seen as having a very balanced function set, not weighing to heavily on any functions. They are very laid-back, non-judgemental, and sensitive to others thoughts and feelings. This type is likely to have a weak definition of self, seeing themselves in everything. They might see themselves as “a little of column A, a little of column B, quite honesty”. They might outwardly appear to not greatly enjoy or strongly feel about anything. They may struggle to say exactly who they are and what they stand for, being cautious of taking any harsh or finite stances on things. They really don’t want to offend anyone or be offended. They just don’t want a conflict to break out. This type seems to have the strongest shadow Ni of any kind of INFP, easily seeing other perspectives and views. They are still, however, separate from INFJ because they are still associative creatures rather than dissociative, relaying new information through the lens of their own understanding and experience. This kind of INFP was often neglected or silenced as a child and taught to not think of themselves as important. As a consequence of this, they are likely to see other people as having more intrinsic worth than they do. (not in a type 2 way, mind you, or in an Fe way, in a self-depreciating way) This can cause this type of INFP to think nothing they do is important, and kill any drive for them to do anything. Because of this, this INFP is kind of a loaner and maybe pretty lazy and slothful. However, these same qualities can make these type 9′s, self-sacrificing and loving friends. They are a wonderful, understanding and compassionate shoulder to cry on. They are just as happy talking about any topic with you as any other, and the most imaginative and flexible people you will ever meet. 

Type 6 INFP

Somewhat lesser known, but about as common as type 9 INFP’s, Type six INFP’s are cautious, inquisitive and loyal. Type 6′s are often called “The Loyalist” “The Detective” and “The doubter”. This kind of INFP focus’s much more on the Ne/Si axis than the other kind of INFP’s and can seem to effortlessly match even ENFP’s in outward intuition. However, this comes at a price as this type of INFP tends to use that ability to worry quite a lot. This type of INFP is highly insecure, spending a lot of time in “what if” scenarios and wondering if things will turn out okay. Due to just how much time they spend doing that, they get rather good at guessing outcomes and asking the right questions. 
This type of INFP craves security, they value unconditional love and stability above just about anything. They are plagued with doubts in their relationships, personal struggles, and careers. They can really bring down the mood and bother people with this behavior. They image countless scenarios in which things can turn out bad, and really just need guidance and a gentle push out of such thinking from friends and loved ones. Guidance, security and reassurance are paramount to a type 6 INFP, and anyone who gives them this will receive a loyal and passionate ally. This kind of INFP is also highly opinionated as they become very attached to things that mean something to them. They might go on a rant at or about people who disagree or ideologically oppose them due to their deep and inseparable attachment to their owns thoughts, preferences and philosophies. 
This is they type of INFP to seem to be really into a handful of things and talk about them non-stop. “I have all their albums” “I’ve been going here for years” “I have a blog about it” “I’ve read tons of books about it” They’re very loyal to bands, ideas, philosophies, values, ideologies, artists and people. 
Valuing stability, this kind of INFP is much more sensible and practical than the average INFP, and less likely to be emotionally turbulent. They stand in solidarity with thier self-concept and values. They rarely question thier identity or the validity of their feelings. Due to this, much more energy goes into the Ne/Si axis and allows type 6′s INFP’s to be great philosophers and thinkers, asking the right questions and stead-fastly seeking answers. All makes the type 6′s a fierce debater, playful philosopher, and loyal companion. 


Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you INFP’s out there find yourself in this. There are also many type 2, 5, 1 and 7 INFP’s out there but i wanted to focus on the common ones here. The roughly 10% or so of INFP’s who aren’t a 4, 9, or 6 should feel special! I hope you’ve enjoyed this very much!

~INFP-sama
Onsra | Part III

(v.) – to love for the last time; a bittersweet feeling of knowing a love won’t last

Read: Part 1 | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Words: 7.8K

Genre: Demon au, soon-to-have: some angst, maybe fluff, smut(?)

-

“Won’t you be mine instead?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You claimed that glassfed beef produces more gas than grain. Can you explain why? And does that mean that letting cattle graze on a natural grassland or pampas unsuitable for crops is bad?

What a good question! Again, you could write a whole paper on this, or a thesis, but let me try to hit the major points. I’m  going to have to break up the answer into two bits here:

1) Grass-fed animals, on an individual animal level, produce more methane per day than grain-fed ones. But why is that?

Let’s start with a view of what’s going on inside the animal: 

  • Herbivores like cattle and sheep have a very complex ecosystem of microbes in their gut, particularly in the part of the stomach called the rumen. 
  • The rumen is like a giant fermentation vat - it’s anaerobic (no oxygen), warm, and has a pH ranging from neutral-ish to slightly acidic. 
  • Feed goes in, gets regurgitated and chewed to break it down into smaller pieces, and then the rumen microbes break it down.  
  • While some nutrients exit the rumen into the acid part of the stomach without microbes getting a hold of them, the majority of nutrients in feed go to keep the microbes healthy and happy. 
  • The byproducts of the microbes’ actions on these feeds help feed the animal

The basic equation is this: 

Feed + microbes -> VFAs + CO2 + methane +microbial protein

  • VFAs, volatile fatty acids, are short-chain fatty acids that get absorbed by the gut and used for energy - in fact, these account for >70% of a cow or sheep’s energy!  
  • Rumen microbes use nitrogen in feed to grow and make more microbes, and when they get washed out of the rumen into the acid stomach, become a major source of protein to the animal, especially on low-protein diets. 
  • Waste products like carbon dioxide and methane get burped out and become greenhouse gases.

Methane is what the rumen does with excess hydrogen. 

  • There’s been research that shows that the level of hydrogen in the rumen affects the rate of certain chemical reactions, especially ones needed for microbial function, and too much hydrogen can make it harder for some microbes to function.  
  • So methane production by specific methanogenic microbes reduces hydrogen in the rumen, allowing microbes to go on their merry way. 

What you feed cows alters how much hydrogen microbes produce as a byproduct of fermenting feed.  

  • The major VFAs, acetate, propionate, and butyrate, are always going to be produced, but the ratios differ depending on diet. 
  • When acetate or butyrate is produced, so is hydrogen, and hydrogen levels rise in the rumen.  
  • When propionate is produced, the reaction uses up hydrogen, and hydrogen in the rumen decreases.
  • Pasture-based diets contain lots of cellulose, which produces mostly acetate when fermented.  
  • This is good, because cellulose is one of the things that humans definitely can’t digest, so cows are turning human inedible food into tasty meat and milk
  •  But it also means that there’s more hydrogen in the rumen because of the higher acetate levels.  
  • Mostly-grain diets, which have more starch, favor propionate, so less hydrogen and therefore less methane gets produced by the animal itself

There are other more complex effects involving different microbial groups, plant compounds, and pH effects, but let’s stick with this for now. 

There’s also the factor that methane production is driven by how much feed enters the rumen, which is driven by how much feed the animal needs to meet its energy requirements.  Forages usually have lower energy per pound of feed and are less digestible, so an animal needs to eat more. This, combined with acetate being the major VFA, means that on a per day basis, a grass-fed animal will in general produce more methane than a grain-fed one. 

However, the nice thing about grass-fed beef is that the inputs to the system are lower.  On native pasture, the only inputs are often rain and manure.  On managed pasture, there may be irrigation, seeding, fertilizer, etc.  

For grain-based diets, you have to add on the energy (and greenhouse gases) from producing the feed, processing the feed, and transporting the feed, versus the greenhouse gases from managing pasture.  But grain-fed cattle eat a lot of byproducts from other industries that would otherwise go to waste (beet pulp, distiller’s grains, barley hulls) so you need to consider that. Emissions from feed can make up a good chunk of the overall emissions associated with animal production, so the answer gets even more complex fast.  

This specific kind of analysis, of assigning greenhouse gas emissions and summing them up for a product, is part of a technique called Life Cycle Assesment - that is, looking at the life cycle of a product to determine the inputs and outputs and the emissions associated with them.  I’m doing one right now on sheep production in California and it’s utterly fascinating, but it shows that in these situations, there often isn’t an easy answer, and it depends a lot on where you set the boundaries and what you define as an impact. The debate is ongoing, and there really isn’t one clear-cut answer right now. 

So, moving on to part 2 of your question:

Is it bad to let cattle graze land unsuitable for crops because the animals themselves produce more methane than the same cow on a grain-based diet? DEFINITELY NOT.  

Cattle grazing on rangelands is definitely sustainable if managed right.

 I discussed this on my previous post here http://animalsustainability.tumblr.com/post/159885334236/hey-there-ive-been-really-enjoying-reading-your but grasslands need large herbivores to survive, and given how much land is grassland, not producing livestock on grasslands wastes a lot of land that could feed people. Removing herbivores also changes ecosystem balance for many other species that rely on herbivores to clear out excess brush, provide manure, or alter habitats.

If we don’t graze these native rangelands with something, then we risk habitat degradation and impacts on the other species that live there.  Large herbivores are an important part of the grasslands’ circle of life, and help promote ecosystem health if managed sustainably.  Grass-fed systems are also important for using land responsibly to feed everyone. 

Methane is just one part of the big picture. We need to look at ecosystem health, and the methane and other GHGs needed to produce what we’d feed these cattle if we didn’t feed them pasture.

So to answer your question, Both grain-fed and pasture-based systems have their place in modern agriculture, and neither is strictly better than the other.  And the fact is: all systems have the potential to be sustainable!

Thanks for staying with me this long. Here, have some cute Herefords as a treat (one of my favorite beef breeds). They have such sweet faces. Image credit: Irish Hereford Breed Society

Don’t Let Me Down (Yooran)

because I was listening to this and decided to hop on the yooran angst train

On AO3
On FFN


No new messages.

Saeran tossed his phone onto his bed and pushed both hands into his bright hair. He stared up at the ceiling and took a deep breath trying to calm the jittery feeling that was growing in his chest. Glancing at the phone, he grabbed it up and checked his texts again. Maybe he’d forgotten to hit send.

No such luck. The message had been sent but hadn’t been read yet.

He threw the phone back onto the bed (with a little more force than before). That was fine. It was fine. Not a big deal, right? Yoosung was still a student, after all. He had classes and tests and needed to study. Even outside of the RFA, he was busy. Saeran couldn’t reasonably expect him to respond to every text, right?

Except…

He glanced over to his phone again but squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself from reaching over and snatching it up.

‘This is ridiculous,’ Saeran thought. Sure, they’d had a fight, but Yoosung wouldn’t leave him over one stupid fight, right? Only…it hadn’t been a fight. Not really. 


He had too much energy. Everything under his skin was vibrating. It was going to come out. He was going to explode.

‘Just breathe,’ he reminded himself. Saeran sucked in breath after breath like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. 

Everything was still too close. Why did his clothes have to rub against his skin like that? It just made the vibrating worse.

“Saeran,” Yoosung spoke to him, voice calm and even. “Everything’s okay. You’re okay. You can handle this.”

“I know,” Saeran snapped. How often did this happen? Of course he knew that everything was okay, but that still didn’t make it better. It was only more frustrating! Why did this happen when everything was fine? Why did he have to be like this?

“Try to focus on your breathing,” Yoosung tried talking to him again, but it only set Saeran further on edge.

“I know!” He snapped again. Rounding on Yoosung, he shouted, “Why are you always like this? How are you so calm all the damn time? You have no idea what I’m going through! What the hell do you think you can do to help?”

Yoosung was quiet for a few seconds before he said, “You’re right, I don’t know how you feel right now. Maybe if you told me I could help?”

His breaths were coming faster now, each one burning in his chest. Saeran wasn’t even thinking about his words and continued to shout, “What is wrong with you? Why are you so nice? Are you stupid? Do you like it? Why do you stay?” 

Turning away, he didn’t even look at Yoosung’s reaction. Everything was falling apart. He was falling apart. Lifting his hands, Saeran gripped his head. He had to hold himself together any way he could. Frustrated tears burned his eyes. He didn’t want Yoosung to see this. Not this ugly side of him. Why wouldn’t he just leave?

“Saeran,” Yoosung’s voice was gentle and it pulled at the tight knot in Saeran’s chest. But when a hand touched his arm, everything he was trying to keep together unraveled.

Lashing out, physically shoving Yoosung away from him, Saeran screamed, “Go away!”

Breathing still harsh, eyes wide and frantic, Saeran caught Yoosung’s reaction this time. That moment was what brought him back to his senses, focus narrowing down to only the hurt look on Yoosung’s face. All the excess energy suddenly flooded out of him, leaving him cold and exhausted.

The shock on Yoosung’s face only lasted for a second before he was smiling again, forced as it was for his sake, and saying, “Sorry, I guess you just need some time to yourself. I’ll head home for today. Feel better, Saeran! Take care of yourself, okay?”

Saeran wanted to say something, wanted to stop him from leaving, but he could barely stand, barely breathe. When Yoosung was gone, the door shut behind him, Saeran finally collapsed in on himself to cry and scream until he was spent and hoarse lying on the floor.


Saeran thought back to that awful moment after he pushed Yoosung away. The look that had been on his face had haunted his memory for three quiet, lonely days. But what hurt the worst was remembering how quickly Yoosung had tried to smile and brush it off. That tight smile, the redness that took over his cheeks and nose while he tried not to cry at Saeran’s rejection, how tight his laugh was when he said he’d go home for the day.

Saeran pressed a hand over his heart. His chest hurt. It was tight and suffocating and made his eyes burn. He grit his teeth, refusing to cry, refusing to give into this feeling. It was just in his head. It wasn’t real.

Yoosung had always been there for him. From all the way back when Saeyoung had first brought him home, Yoosung had slowly tried to be his friend. He didn’t talk to him like he was fragile or damaged. He always came back, even when Saeran pushed him away. He told him he would be there for him if he ever needed someone to talk to.

But maybe he had pushed too hard this time. It hadn’t just been harsh words or looks, it had been physical.

There was a voice in his head, ‘He’s never coming back.’

“Stop it,” Saeran said to no one. He knew what this was. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. “He’s just busy. He needs time. He’ll come back. I said I’m sorry.”

‘Did you really though? It was a text. Pretty pathetic.’

“Shut up,” Saeran said through clenched teeth. “He promised. He knows. He knows how I am sometimes. I don’t mean it. I don’t. He promised he’d stay, that he’d be here.”

‘Yeah, but you never hit him before.’

“I didn’t–!” Taking another deep breath, Saeran clenched his hands in his hair. “I didn’t hit him. I didn’t.” Even as he said it, guilt twisted his gut and made the tears he’d been fighting back spill down his cheeks.

‘You might as well have,’ the little voice in his head told him. ‘Who would want to stay around someone like that? Who knows what you might do next time you get upset with him?’

Sniffling, Saeran croaked, “But he promised…”


Well, this was it. He’d tried so hard not to have one of his episodes in front of Yoosung. He didn’t want him to know about that part of him, the scary part that he lost control of every so often. But it was bound to happen eventually, right?

Lying on his bed, trying to get some of his energy back, Saeran kept his eyes closed. He waited, listening for the front door to open and shut, signalling Yoosung’s departure from the house and from him. But instead the door to his room opened.

Saeran opened his eyes and watched Yoosung walk towards the bed to sit on the edge and place a cool cloth across his forehead. “How are you feeling now?” He asked. “Better than earlier?”

“Why’d you stay?” Saeran asked in return. He was genuinely confused. He couldn’t understand why Yoosung would still be here after seeing what he’s like during one of his meltdowns.

Yoosung didn’t answer right away, taking a moment to think about it. “Well,” he started, “I care about you. That looked like it was hard on you and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Why?” Saeran still didn’t understand.

“I need a reason?” Yoosung laughed. He reached towards him, pulled his hand back for a second, but eventually decided to reach out and pet Saeran’s hair in a calming gesture. “I just…do,” he shrugged, cheeks a little pinker than before.

Saeran debated with himself before finally admitting, “This probably won’t be the last time it happens.” Yoosung continued to gently stroke his hair as he continued, “Things build up and all come out at once sometimes.”

“That’s okay,” Yoosung reassured him with an understanding smile. “You’ve…well, you’ve been through a lot, right? It’s okay if things get to be too much sometimes. I’ll be here to help however you need.”

Saeran had a hard time believing it, that someone would stay with him through moments like that not because they had to but because they wanted to. He wanted to ask ‘why?’ again but settled on “Really?”

Yoosung nodded. “I promise. It might be easier to share it with someone that deal with it on your own. I have other things I have to do, like school and my volunteer work, but you can always text me. I’ll come over as soon as I can.”

He was tired and could feel himself starting to doze off. “Yeah,” he agreed as his eyes slipped shut. “Okay.”


“Please,” Saeran begged, still sitting on the bed and staring down at his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

‘Too little too late,’ his inner voice prodded. ‘Can you really blame him?’

“No,” Saeran whispered, throat clenching around the word. Honestly, he would’ve left himself a long time ago. It was crazy to expect someone else to put up with something he even hated about himself. “But I…” He was starting to crack under the weight of his guilt and anxiety. “I need him.”

He felt horrible for saying it, for admitting that if Yoosung would come back, he’d be willing to selfishly accept his help and attention again. But it was the truth. He hadn’t realized how much he’d come to rely on Yoosung as a grounding presence in his life until this incident. 

Turning to reach behind him, he grabbed his phone again before turning back to rest his elbows on his knees and stare down at the screen. Still no new notifications.

“Please,” he begged again, willing the phone to buzz in his hands. “Please come back so I can apologize properly. You promised. I need you and you promised. I’m so sorry.”

He was crying again, grip tight on his phone, when it answered his prayers and buzzed in a few short bursts. It was so unexpected that it startled him into almost dropping the phone. When he recovered, he rubbed his sleeve across his eyes to help clear them and looked down at the screen.

1 New Message from Yoosung Kim

Someone Else Part 3

A/N: Ayooooo part 3 here! 
Part 1 | Part 2

—————-

You woke up the morning you were scheduled to go back to work and seriously considered calling in sick.

The entirety of your time off was spent moping around. You had decided not to try to call Spencer; him walking out was rejection enough. At least that’s how you saw it. Plus he would have called you if he did actually feel the same way… right?

You dreaded going back to work and having to see Spencer again. After putting your feelings out on the line like that and him just walking out the way he did… things were going to be awkward to say the least.

After taking a deep breath and straightening out your shirt as you looked in the mirror, you headed out the door.

You walked into the BAU with your head held high. The pep talk you gave yourself in the elevator really boosted your confidence upon facing Spencer.

And just as you had feared, there was Spencer, turned around in his desk as if he was just waiting for you to walk through the glass doors of the FBI. As soon as his eyes met yours, he sprung from his chair and straight to you.

“Y/N, do you think we could talk?” he asked once he approached you.

“What is there to talk about Spencer?” you said as you brushed passed him and to your desk. You tried your hardest to ignore him hovering when you took off your purse and coat.

Spencer paused and you could hear him gulp loudly. “You know what I’m talking about…” he said in a hushed voice.

You huffed loudly then spun around so you were face to face with him. “We couldn’t have had this conversation over the weekend? You want to do this right here, right now? Spencer, I am not going to be one of those girls that ‘makes you choose.’ If there’s even a thought or debate whether you should be with her or me, then I don’t want this to happen. It should be a no brainer. I’m not going to wait around and be someone’s second option, Spencer. Not even to you” you said sternly but in a hushed voice so you wouldn’t cause a scene.

You were surprised at how confident you sounded.

Spencer’s eyes widened but before he answered, Hotch called the team in for a briefing for the next case you were scheduled to be on.

“We are done here”

You walked away with a new found confidence in your step. As much as you loved Spencer and probably always would, you would never settle for anyone who thought you were a second option. Plus, you wanted to make him think that you were okay. You didn’t want his sympathy.

“Y/N…” Spencer started but you were already walking away from him.

For the first half of the new case, you and Spencer didn’t utter a word to one another. You didn’t even glance up at him once. Although you weren’t looking, you could feel Spencer’s eyes on you almost every moment you were together.

It was distracting you from your work with so much tension between the two of you.

Hotch must have picked up on that tension because he insisted that you and Spencer work on the geographical profile together while the other team members were off on their assigned tasks.

Hesitantly, you walked over to the large map that was set up and grabbed a magic marker and began making dots all over the map.

“So here is where we think is the unsub’s first kill was…” you said as you made a mark on the map.

Spencer cleared his throat loudly. “Y/N…”

“And here is where we found the second victim, almost 20 miles away…” you blatantly ignored him.

“I need to tell you about what happened this weekend” Spencer tried to cut into your train of thought.

“And here is where he dumped the third body… then that means that this is his comfort zone…” you said as you made a big circle. “And somewhere in this area is where he probably lives”

Spencer rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated huff. Your stubbornness was hard to deal with at times. “C’mon Y/N just hear me out”

“I’m trying to work here, okay? You can either help me or get the hell out” you almost shouted at him. Your stare bored into him until he stood down and picked up a magic marker of his own to mark up the map with.

You exhaled softly, the pain inside of you at an all-time high.

—————-

Only hours after the team gave the profile, you had a man that fit the description you were looking for being reported in the neighborhood. You and the team were the first to arrive at the scene only to find the man keeping a young girl at gun point.

“Sir, put the gun down now!” J.J. roared at the unsub. His machine gun was pressed up against the girl’s head but in a flash, he had it facing towards where you and the team were standing.

He pulled the trigger, unleashing a rain of bullets on all of you.

Ducking against the door of a police car, you steadied your gun and shot as many times as you could. The shooting coming from the unsub abruptly stopped. You peeked your head around the side of the door to see that the unsub was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, and the little girl was safe in J.J.’s arms.

Standing up and breathing a sigh of relief, you suddenly felt an intense pain in your side, right where the bullet proof jacket comes together and leaves a large gap. You pressed your hand to where there was pain only to see that your hand was covered in blood.

You fell to your knees when your adrenaline wore off and the pain set in. Spencer was the first one to find you and immediately crouched down next to you.

He held out his arms and you gratefully gripped onto him for support. Your sight was getting fuzzier by the moment and you felt your hearing fade away.

“Y/N? Y/N! You stay with me, you hear? Help is coming, you just have to stay with me…” Spencer’s voice soothed you.

Your body began to go limp as you fell into Spencer’s chest.

Then everything went black.

tumblingxelian  asked:

Hi there, a big fan of your blog, there's amazing advice here! I have a multitude of questions but one that kind of sticks out at me right now is. How do you go about turning a fanfic or fanfic idea into an original fiction? Especially when a lot of the story hinges on the series original world building. I've done this once before with one story, but due to the genre it was easy to separate the settings. Less so here with a WOW fic concept I'm debating trying to make original. Sorry for vaguness

Thank you, love <3  That’s an interesting question!  I’ve answered something similar here, but I’ll expand on it for your specific situation.

Breaking a fanfiction away from its source material can be variably challenging, depending on how much has to do with the plot itself – that is to say, any history, setting, or character details that affect the course of the plot.  You’re going to want to first assess what parts of your story are “extra” details (e.g. canon-character personalities and interactions, unimportant canon-settings) and change/remove them.  Anything that’s unnecessary and not your own idea, cut it out.  Replace it with your own characters, your own settings, and your own history.

It gets a little more complicated when we reach plot-changing details, though.  You’re going to have to develop your own worldbuilding to support your plot… or you’re going to have to change the plot.  It really comes down to each individual detail, to be honest.  Without knowing what the story is about, the best I can tell you is to try to work backwards from the plot to figure out new worldbuilding.  Take the different plot points (e.g. a war, a magic system, etc.) and try to find different causes or twists for them.

For example: if someone were to write a Hunger Games fanfiction taking place in District 12, between Katniss and Gale, pre-Reaping.  You’d need to change Katniss’ and Gale’s personalities, names, and histories, obviously – but you’d also need to assess the setting.  District 12 is a poor province, a mining colony, in Panem.  Panem is a post-apocalyptic nation under authoritarian-totalitarian dictatorship, managed by violent Peacekeepers.  You’d have to figure out which of these details are important, and pull them out.

So let’s say, the violent police force is relevant to the plot, and so is the fact that the province is poor.  But it doesn’t have to be a mining colony, and it doesn’t have to be under dictatorship.  It doesn’t even have to be post-apocalyptic!  So then you develop a different history, in a different nation – different government, no Hunger Games, no apocalypse, not even necessarily any “district” format.  You’re left with two new characters, still antagonized by police in a poor region, as a platform for your plot.

That’s really all I can tell you without more information, though.  If you wanna message me and discuss it further, that would be fine with me :)  Otherwise, I wish you good luck and happy writing!


If you need advice on general writing or fanfiction, you should maybe ask me!

anonymous asked:

I have noticed a thing. A lot of people write Yuuri as unintentionally seductive and constantly has people falling for him just as he goes around being cute and sweet, while Victor is the only one who overcomes the obstacle of his ignorance gets to date him. I have seen similarities between this and how many people have lined up to be your spouse, though Justine is your one true love. Your url is so appropriate dang

this is some introspective content right here but i gotta say – i’m more of a victor than a yuuri personality-wise ;o ;o if you think about it, justine has a bunch of rabid KIC fans and i am just one zealous fan among many. i think this dynamic can be reversed! but you’re onto something here, anon

Suga; Tease (M)

❝ Aite, this blog is the best thing that’s ever happened—too much inspiration going on and this is based on this post but I tweaked it a bit! (go check this blog out; because you’ll end up like me in a pool of emotions)
►642 words | mini scenario, rated for suggestive content
© (photo credit)

Seven down, three more to go, you’re switching books just to get more references in making your point more solid and it doesn’t help that there are more vibrations coming from your phone as the minutes tick by. It’s not even two full hours that you’re here and it’s like your phone is having an unstoppable seizure—which is not good. You groan and tell yourself no, just because it’s Yoongi, doesn’t mean you have to reply and usually, it doesn’t end up well because now you’re neglecting everything else just to check the messages he’s sent and it’s like he has way too much time up his sleeves.

‘Babe’ [2.31p.m.]

‘Gorgeous’ [2.31p.m.]

‘Are you just going to keep ignoring me?’ [2.33p.m.]

‘I know you’re seeing this—come home now’ [2.34p.m.]

‘Baby. Come. Home.’ [2.36p.m.]

And the next photo he has the courtesy in adding a self-captured image of himself, lazing in bed and the bed sheets look pretty familiar to your eyes as he’s resting on a pillow, one hand in his hair while the other is holding up to the right angle where the light hits his skin perfectly. You groan and tempt to reply but you know he catches the ‘seen’ text and he’s tempting you further and this should not happen in a library!

‘My face is cold, I need you to sit on it.’ [2.38p.m.]

Rolling your eyes and debating if you are going to be sexting him here or not, you decide to go with the other option and opt him with an answer you know he’ll be groaning at.

‘Jimin’s contact number is in your phone; call him instead.’

The phone in your hand is about to be put aside forever until you’re done but the buzzing halts you from doing so.

‘I don’t want to fuck JImin, I want to fuck you.’ [2.41p.m.]

Amused, you reply something among the lines that you bet Jimin begs to differ.

Then he’s pushing all the right buttons by saying how your lips moaning my name is such a pretty sight—and you taste fucking good.

He’s grinning so hard, his cheeks might hurt but he bursts out laughing when you’ve seen his message but you’re not replying him at all. He contemplates and thinks if he should keep pestering you but then, yeah, he should and he’s sending a message that should be considered as lethal and illegal.

You regret it the moment his face appears on your screen, the caption you know you want to hovering over his tongue as he juts it past his lips just enough to have you squirming on your seat and you’re calling him rude and telling him to stop.

‘I’ll stop if you come home now.’ [2.46p.m.]

You’re halfway in, ready to give into his ways but you’re seeing how far he’s about to seal the deal.

‘What are we going to do when I get home? Is this all for show, Min Yoongi?’ [2.48p.m.]

Few minutes go by and you’re half disappointed that maybe, he’s just joking around in a way where he knows it’s messing with your mind. You’re about to dive into the heavy work gathered on your shoulders but the next text has you going fuck this, I can do this when I get home, on his laptop and you’re dashing out of the library, hopping into the car and maybe speeding all the way home with the image of him sprawled out in bed, at your mercy.

‘Was it all for talk the last time you came on my face?’ [2.53p.m.—seen]

Giving up | A Liam Dunbar imagine

External image

Y/n P.O.V

You looked down, suddenly taking an interest on your shoes. The tears brimmed at the edge of your eyes, wanting to escape but you didn’t let them. Sighing deeply, there was a knock on your door.

“Y/n, Stiles will be here any min-” Scott, your older brother started as he opened the door then immediately stopped. “Y/n what’s wrong?”

You shrugged before taking a seat on your bed, Scott closely followed. He wrapped his arms around your shoulder and squeezed it gently. “I don’t know any more Scott. I don’t know what i did to make Liam avoid me like I’m the bloody plague, for God’s sake. He won’t even glance at me whenever i walk past him at school and I thought i was supposed to be his girlfriend. I’m confused Scott.” You explained, letting out an aggravated sigh.

Your older brother gave a weak smile, “Y/n, Maybe you should try talking to him today and tell him how you feel. Maybe it will sort things out. I’m not exactly an expert at relationships but I see the way he looks at you, It was the way i looked at Allison.” He reassured before hugging me.

You could tell he was upset by the mentioned of Allison. He had a distant look in his eyes and his forehead creased. There was a sudden honk outside which made him escape his trance. “Come on Y/n, don’t want to keep Stiles waiting.”

It was finally lunch making you cheer lightly to yourself. Your eyes darted around to see that familiar figure until you saw him. Your heartbeat began to rise and you were sure he could hear it as he looked up and met yours.

Finally for the first time in a week he held eye contact for more than one second. As if you was the stimulus of a reflex he quickly turned around walking the other way.

“Liam wait!”

You called after him. Then you took off on a run, as you caught up to him you grabbed his arm making him swiftly turn towards you. His shocked face, stared at you like a deer in the headlights. “Look Y/n, I need t-“

"No Liam. I want to know why you’re avoiding me. Don’t say you’re not because you’re not answering my calls or texts and won’t even talk to me. Every time you see me walk towards you, you turn the other way and you won’t even save me a glance Liam. And i don’t know if we argued or something but whatever I did that is making you avoid me like the plague, I’m sorry. Just please tell me what I did, I promise I’ll make i better. If that’s not what you want, I’ll understand. Just don’t leave me hanging and tell me straight if you don’t want to be with me anymore. I’m sick and tired of waiting and not knowing what I did wrong.” You begged with pleading eyes.

He stood still, his blue orbs searched mine blankly as you panicked. As silence passed the both of you, you sighed with disappointment that he didn’t deny your assumptions.

You had no choice but to walk away, if you didn’t you would’ve broken down right in front of him and you didn’t want that.

————-

Next Day…

You debated whether or not to go to Scott’s game, one reason being Liam was playing too. Sitting in Violets car, in the school parking lot gave you no choice but to go. Violet was not going to take a no for an answer.

"Come on Y/n, let’s sit here.” Violet suggests, and you simply nodded. There were sudden cheers as the Beacon hills players ran into the field. Your gaze darted around and easily found Liam’s jersey.

Even though, you had no clue what the relationship status between you and he was but you wanted him to be safe, due to the fact he was newly bitten. You remembered when Scott was bitten a few years ago, he scared the bloody shit out of you.

You missed Liam. You missed everything about him, his laugh, and his smile. You never understood what you did to make him ignore you like you never existed. You needed answers.

Feeling a tear prickle your eyes, you quickly closed it. “I’m sorry.” You whispered quietly to yourself, hoping Violet never heard. Opening your eyes, the familiar baby blue ones instantly met yours. Everything slowed down as if it was you two. Your breathing began to quicken as your heart clenched.

Without noticing, you began to retreat the benches and towards the car park. You couldn’t handle it anymore and you were hurting.

Y/n!” You quickly turned around at the sound of the familiar voice. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw Liam jogging towards you.

“Liam what are you doing? You can’t just leave the game? Coach will kill you.” You said, desperately trying to hide the evidence that you were crying.

Liam seemed to notice making his face soften. “Y/n, I saw you leave. Aren’t you going to finished the game?”

You shrugged, “Why are you speaking to me all of a sudden? You’ve been ignoring me for the past week and now you’re speaking to me like nothing’s happened? If you don’t want to me with me, then grow the hell up and tell me or else I have no choice but to give up.”

“To give up on us.”

—————

A/n

Hey!

This is not the Birthday imagine but this imagine has been in my mind for quite a while and the feels are real.

The Birthday imagine will be up tomorrow with a very sad an fluffy Thomas sangster imagine.

Hopefully you liked it and requests are open! Please do send requests, i honestly don’t mind!

Not my gif.

The Silver Lining: Part One

Summar: The reader is not a fan of the show, but gets dragged to a convention and catches Jensen’s eye.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 1855
Warnings: Just a bit of language. 

As I mentioned in the teaser, this series is based on a request from @dancingalone21; hopefully this five-part mini-series will do her request justice! 

Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

Your last name: submit What is this?

Keep reading

Political Cartoons and Public Debates - Library of Congress | History |1003498623

Political Cartoons and Public Debates
Library of Congress
Genre: History
Price: Get
Publish Date: August 31, 2015

This Library of Congress Student Discovery Set is here to put history into your hands. It brings together historical artifacts and one-of-a-kind documents from the collections of the Library of Congress. Interactive tools let you zoom in for close examination, draw to highlight interesting details, and make notes about what you discover. There’s no single right answer, only new discoveries to be made. For over two hundred years, whenever a debate has broken out in the United States, political cartoons have been there to take part in the argument—and sometimes to push it to its limits. Political cartoons from centuries of U.S. history paired with other historical documents let students explore the ways in which cartoonists try to persuade their audience. This set is intended for open-ended primary source analysis by students. A Teacher’s Guide with background information, teaching ideas, and additional resources is available on the Library’s Web site for teachers, loc.gov/teachers.

Fight For Family...Part 4

(Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Epilogue)


Just shy of two hours later, you found yourself at David’s after not only grocery shopping for the rhubarb pie recipe but also dropping off your newly-acquired fresh foods at your apartment.

You couldn’t help but notice the light worry in David’s eyes the entire time you were walking through the complex.

Stepping foot into his house was like stepping back home.  The routine you had fallen into suddenly came flooding back as David took your coat and you slung your purse over the side of his couch.

“I’ll go get the groceries real quick,” David says as you hear the door open behind you.

Your eyes were slowly canvassing the room, taking it all in in case this meeting went drastically wrong.

“Make yourself at home,” he says lowly as you slowly turn your body towards him.

The sincerity in his eyes caused you to hold your breath, struggling not to ruin the moment as his eyes hold yours with a fiery passion.

Letting out your breath as your eyes widen, you feel your stomach jump lightly as your eyes whip down to your stomach.

You watched your stomach wave in movement as your jaw unhinges.

“Hey there,” you breathe as you smile, your hands encompassing your little bulge as David looks on in wonder.

“Hey there, little one,” you whisper as a smile lightly graces your cheeks.

David didn’t know what to do…what was appropriate for a scenario like this.

But your voice ripped him from his debating thoughts as you answered his question for him.

“Come here,” you beckon as you hold out your hand for him.

As he leaves the open front door and slowly walks towards you, you wraps your fingers around his wrist as you press his rough, warm hand lightly against your stomach, right where your little girl was flailing about.

Where David’s little girl was flailing about.

Watching his face as his hand rolls on top of the movements, his eyes widen in wonder as study his face.

The elated joy of feeling his child move in the womb.

The tears of happiness rimming his reddening eyes as he slowly sinks to his knees.

The adoring way he parted his lips as he splayed both of his hands along your stomach.

And the reverent way he closed his eyes as he planted his lips firmly on your belly button, her little feet kicking against the warmth of his lips I’m sure even she could feel as he smiles and begins murmuring into your stomach.

“I’m right here, piccola ragazza.  Daddy’s right here.”

The sentiment caused burning tears to flood your eyes and stream down your face as your chest heaves with sobs you had refused to cry for weeks.

And the sound caused David’s eyes to rip open and stare heavily up into yours.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he murmurs lowly, his body staying planted on his knees as his eyes dance in between yours.  “Whatever it takes to be in her life…in both of your lives.”

Your heart fluttered strongly with his words, threatening to burst out from behind your sternum as you watch him slowly raise up onto his feet.

“I won’t leave you like this,” he says as his hand comes up to cup your cheek.  “ I won’t let you do this alone.”

And the tears running down your cheeks found their way over his fingers as your salty regrets and wet hopes soak his fingers as his thumb lightly brushes over your reddening cheek.

“What can I do?” he asks as his other hand flies up to your cheek as you sniffle hard and flutter your eyes closed.

You were carrying David’s little girl.

“Please tell me,” he whispers as he leans his forehead lightly down onto yours.

And just as you went to part your lips, breathing in his air as your trembling hands meander over his as you weave your fingers tightly together with his, your stomach lets out a massive growl as the two of you begin to chuckle breathlessly, feeling each other’s breaths pulsate off of each other’s lips.

“You can make that damn rhubarb pie,” you giggle as David opens his eyes to look at you.

His lips were so dangerously close to yours…

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs as a light smile graces his cheeks.

Healing

For ease of access please find below links to all my previous stories;
Sam and Dean Series            Requests and Stand Alones    
Lil Winchester             Heart Song
A Love She Never Knew          Dear Diary
High School Sweethearts       Reader Title Challenge
Enjoy my lovelies.
Regards,
Bec
Xxx
                                                Stand Alone
                                                  
Healing

 

Authors Note: So this one wasn’t going to be posted for a while, and it was the one I asked about the other day about if you wanted a happy or sad ending. No one answered, SO I debated through out it. lol. As you can probably tell along the way. I’m posting it as a bonus story and for @deansgurlimagines because well tonight you just made my day right when I needed it. xxx

WORD COUNT: 4028

  Y/N shut the door and was walking through the garage and into the main area of the bunker when the lights went, an alarm starting blaring and the red emergency beacons flashed.

  ‘Sammy?’ she called.

  It had been a month since she was last here. She left needing to come to terms with Dean’s death. Trying to grieve and join Sam on the mission he was one, hell bent on finding Dean’s body just got too much for her.  She had lost the love of her life, and was struggling with losing her best friend too.

  ‘Sammy?’

  ‘Y/N?’

  She spun coming face to face with Dean. Tears sprung instantly to her eyes.

  ‘How? When? Why?’ she sobbed.
  ‘I don’t know. One minute I was gone, the next I’m back. I think Sam did something, he’s lost his mind. Now he’s trying to kill me.’

  ‘What?’ she panicked. ‘Oh God. Is that why the bunkers in lock down?’

  ‘Yeah. God, Baby I missed you so much,’ Dean smiled.

  He pulled her close and kissed her. Watching her face carefully, she was hesitant and unsure, that much was obvious. But he knew she trusted him, that she would listen. She always did.

  ‘We need to move, find him before he finds us,’ Dean prompted, tugging her hand.

  Y/N nodded and followed him. The moved across the concrete floors, Dean using one hand to push her against the all while he checked around the corner. Sam would trade himself for her. Dean didn’t doubt it. Her arrival was just pure luck.

  ‘Sammy?’ Dean called. ‘Sammy, come play. The third wheels here.’

  ‘Third wheel?’ Y/N frowned.

  ‘Well Sweetheart, you never did really fit in, now did you?’

  Y/N’s head shot up and she looked at him surprised, stepping away from the wall, preparing to move back. Something wasn’t right.

  ‘Aw, come on baby. It’s the truth and you know it,’ Dean lent down and kissed her hard, before he shoved her roughly against the half tiled wall. He heard the crack as her head made contact. Before kissing her again.
  She tried pushing him away but Dean just pushed up harder against her, locking her in place.

  ‘Come on Sweetheart, no one likes a tease.’

  Y/N watched as his eyes flickered black, gasping she hit him with everything she had and took off running. For Y/N situation’s like this sucked. She wasn’t a hunter, she was a girl the boys had rescued and made friends with. Her and Dean becoming more than friends. A lot more.

  Y/N kept running, turning a corner she ran into something and nearly screamed. Only stopping when a hand clamped over her mouth.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Visiting, checking on you. Why didn’t you tell me?’ she sobbed.
  ‘I’ll explain later, I promise,’ Sam told her.

  ‘How do I know you’re you and not another demon?’

  Sam pulled the demon blade from his belt and cut himself with it. Y/N nodded and the two ran off trying to figure out a way to deal with Dean.

  ‘If I can get to the computer room there was a thermal imaging program I was working on with Charlie ages ago. It was almost complete. If I can get it going I can use it to find him.’

  Sam looked at her hesitantly, the idea was great, but that would mean leaving her alone.

  ‘Y/N, I don’t know.’

  ‘We need to find him Sam.’

  Sam nodded reluctantly, and Y/N took off running.

  She had almost finished the program when the door was kicked in and Dean appeared.

  ‘Hey baby, I’m thinking it’s time for some fun.’

  Y/N froze, with Dean in the doorway there was no escape. He moved closer to her, the smug smirk on his face making her want to be sick.

  Dean’s eyes roamed over her body, the demon in him contemplating his options. She went to run but he grabbed her slamming her face into the computer table.

  ‘You always were useless Y/N. Useless at running, at fighting, at hunting. I’m not surprised that vampire almost killed you. I mean, hell chances are there wasn’t any thrill in that chase. But then with you there never is.’

  He punched her in the stomach, the face and the ribs over and over again. Telling her how pathetic she was, how weak she is, how she wasn’t worth the time, how he never loved her. She listened to his insults and taunts as she faded into blackness.

  Y/N woke in the room her and Dean shared in the bunker. She considered that maybe she had died. But she couldn’t think of a reason as why either heaven or hell would put her here.

  ‘You’re awake, that’s good,’ Sam’s voice came from the door.
  ‘Am I dead?’ she groaned.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do me a favour?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Kill me,’ she muttered.

  The pain through her body was excruciating.
  ‘Nope, but I will make you a tea.’

  Sam left and Dean moved into the doorway and looked at his girlfriend in the bed. He was so full of guilt. He was responsible for the pain she was in, for the bruises and cuts to her body. For the blood mattered hair. He fought back tears, she didn’t deserve it. She was the sweetest person he knew, the gentlest and yet he destroyed her.

  Deep down he knew it wasn’t him, it was the demon. And while he was grateful Sam and Cas had cured him. He wished they had of killed him. It would have been kinder on everyone.

  Y/N looked over at the door and Dean watched as fear and anger crossed her face. He watched as she shifted and tried to move further away.

  ‘I’m not him anymore. Sam and Cas, they cured me,’ Dean said quietly.

  Y/N frowned at him, not saying a word. Dean went to step into the room and watched as she moved back again. He sighed and stepped back out, he didn’t blame her.

  Sam returned and explained everything to Y/N. Her eyes never leaving Dean, every time he moved she flinched.

  Over the next two weeks Y/N healed, physically at least. She was plagued by nightmares of Dean’s fists and haunted by his words. She knew it wasn’t him but that didn’t stop them.

  Dean was suffering from the same dreams, the same replays in his mind. Each day he hated himself even more. He found himself avoiding her, sleeping in another room. He couldn’t handle being close to her in case he hurt her again.

  Dean walked into the library to find another book, when he saw Y/N struggling to reach one. He walked up behind her and automatically put his hand on her hip and grabbed it, pulling it down. He realised as he lent down to kiss her as he always did, she had stiffened under his touch. He kicked himself for getting to caught up in how it should be, in doing what comes naturally. For letting his guard down.

  ‘Thanks,’ Y/N said quietly, frozen on the spot.

  ‘Can we talk? Just for a minute?’ Dean asked.

  Y/N stood there, looking at him.

  ‘I am so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. It wasn’t me that night. You’re my world Y/N, I wouldn’t. Not by choice.’

  Dean wanted nothing more than to run a thumb across her cheek, through her hair. He ached to kiss her, to see her smile. But he couldn’t bring himself to touch her. He struggled to even talk to her.

  She went to talk but had no response to him. So she walked away.

  Sam tried to get them to talk, to watch movies together like they used to. But nothing worked. Neither of them knew if they were still dating, the relationship hadn’t exactly ended but it wasn’t there either.

  Dean watched as Y/N left again, this time for a hair appointment. She seemed to go out a lot now days, not that it surprised him. She was probably too scared to stay in the bunker with him. His heart broke every time she walked out that door, he was always worried she wouldn’t return. That he wouldn’t get a chance to fix things. He would walk past her and go to reach for her but stop himself. He lost count of the amount of times he’d gone to kiss her, or walked into their old shared room wanting to cuddle, to feel her heart beat against his body only to find it empty and the bed cold. He would watch those strands of her bangs that would fall in her face that he loved so much, the ones he loved to push back because it meant contact with her. He hated this so much. He hated himself more.

  By the fourth week Sam had finally got them to agree to a movie. Y/N sat on the floor in a bean bag. She was close enough that Dean could run his hands through her hair. He almost did so many times. By three quarters of the way through the movie he got up and walked out. He couldn’t take it anymore.

  A few days later, he came out to the viewing room early hours of the morning, unable to sleep. He found Y/N laying on the sofa watching TV.

  ‘Can’t sleep either?’ he asked.

  ‘Not lately.’

  ‘Can I join you?’

  Y/N shrugged and sat up, giving Dean room.

  ‘What are you watching?’

  ‘I have no idea, it’s more on for the distraction.’

  They watched some Japanese maze show, similar to the old Takoshi’s castle. Dean kept watching her, debating on if he should talk. Wondering how she would react if he just held her hand. If he had contact of any kind. He sat wondering if she still loved him. Because despite what happened, despite how much he hated himself, if he lost her love, if he lost her it would destroy him in every way. He’d go hand himself to Crowley on a platter. Life now was hard enough, to live it without her. Knowing it was his choices that made it happen, that would be a fate worse than death. One he wasn’t man enough to face.

  Y/N felt uncomfortable, she could feel Dean’s eyes on her. She had no idea what he was thinking or what he wanted. And she was too scared to ask, she felt stupid asking. And she was scared it would be a question and she didn’t have answers.

  ‘Here,’ she said softly, handing Dean the remote, standing up. His fingers brushed her and for the first time since it happened he noticed she didn’t flinch.

  ‘You don’t have to leave. I’m happy to watch whatever you are watching.’

  ‘It’s fine, I should try and sleep anyway.’

  ‘I miss you Y/N,’ Dean said quietly. ‘I wish I could fix it, change things back to how they were.’

  ‘So do I.’

  With that she left. Dean’s head fell back, he closed his eyes and swallowed, fighting back a tsunami of tears.

  He noticed Y/N stopped avoiding him as much. Her answers weren’t as short or as quiet. She still wasn’t smiling but it was an improvement. He watched as she came out the bedroom and headed towards the garage in skinny jeans and a loose shirt. The combination on her was hot. He watched as she grabbed her handbag and headed for the garage. She was going out again. Every day for the past few weeks. She refused to tell them where she was going.

  Dean decided to follow her, and watched as she sat down in a café and how not long after a man joined her. He felt his heart plummet. He had lost her. And as much as he hated himself he didn’t blame her. She deserved more than some guy who almost killed her. He knew he should leave, that he needed to pack up and just return to the bunker, but he couldn’t help himself. He stayed in the car watching, stalking, spying on the two of them. He watched as she laughed and smiled. His heart broke and swelled at the same time. He hadn’t seen or heard that since he went off to fight Metatron. He didn’t know if he should shake the mans hand or beat him up for making her feel so amazing that she could do it. That was his job. It should be him making her happy.

  He watched as the man stood after a while and kissed her cheek before leaving. Dean jumped out the car before he could stop himself and sat in the chair opposite Y/N, surprising her.

  ‘I don’t blame you. After what happened. You deserve to feel safe, to be happy. But I don’t want to do this without you. I can’t,’ Dean told her, tears forming in his eyes.

  ‘Now isn’t the best time,’ Y/N told him quietly. ‘Or place.’

  ‘Can we go somewhere and talk please?’

  He watched as she sighed and nodded. He waited while she got a coffee to go and he drove them to the spot out behind the bunker they would go to sometimes to watch the clouds or the stars.

  ‘How long?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You and that guy,’ Dean commented sadly.

  ‘Since I healed up. It’s not what your thinking Dean. He’s a personal trainer and muay tai instructor. He’s been teaching me to fight.’

  Dean looked at her shocked.

  ‘There’s no one else,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m not even sure if there’s an us.’

  ‘I want there to be an us. I just don’t know how to fix things Y/N.’

  ‘The worst part in all of this, is that you didn’t do anything wrong Dean. None of this is on you. And yet you have to suffer for it. I’m so sorry.’

  Dean looked at her in disbelief. He had no idea what to say.

  ‘What I did-.’

  ‘That wasn’t you. I know that. You know that. It was your hands, your mouth, but the words and actions they weren’t you.’

  Dean felt the tears in his eyes again. What she said struck the guilt cord again. She didn’t deserve what happened.

  ‘I’m so sorry for everything, for avoiding you. I just, I keep seeing it, hearing it. I can’t stop. I’m not sleeping, among other things.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologise, Y/N. I don’t blame you, I understand. I’m so lucky that you didn’t run the moment you came too.’
  He watched as she took a drink of her coffee and rested her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. They sat quietly for a while, Dean unsure of what had or was happening.

  ‘Can you take me to get my car?’

  ‘Could we talk some more?’

  ‘I don’t think we are going to fix this right now.’

  ‘I want to. I want to know what’s happening. If we can fix it.’

  ‘I’m not sure Dean. I wish I knew, but right now I just need to go home.’

  Dean started the car and drove her back to town and followed her home. He watched as she got out her car and walked inside. His stomach dropped and his blood ran cold. He knew something was wrong. He raced after her finding her in her room packing her bags.

  ‘Stop! Y/N don’t please.’

  ‘Dean I just need some time, to sort myself out.’
  ‘Do you love me?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter whether I do or not,’ she said quietly, placing more clothes in her bag.

  Dean yanked them out and stuffed them back in the cupboard.
  ‘Dean,’ she sighed.
  ‘Do you love me?’
  ‘It’s not enough.’
  ‘How is it not enough?’

  ‘Because it’s not, I’m not,’ she cried.

  ‘You’re not what?’

  ‘Good enough.’
  Dean watched shocked as she threw the clothes back into her bags and the tears fell down her face. How could she think that? She was more than enough.
  ‘Baby, how the hell do you even think that?’

  ‘He was right, what he said,’ she sobbed. ‘I’ve tried to become something you deserve but I can’t.’ She burst into tears and sunk to the floor.

  Dean felt the wet streams running down his own face. This was worse than what he thought it was. He sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug.
  ‘You’re more than enough. More than I deserve. I don’t want anyone else, just you. I love you so much Y/N. You have no idea how wrong he was. You are amazing, in every aspect. I’m in awe of you constantly.’

  Y/N cried into Dean’s chest, and he felt his heart breaking.

  Eventually Y/N sobs subsided and her breathing changed, Dean realised that she had cried herself to sleep. He sat there with her in his arms and savoured the moment. Realisation washing over him that he could hold her, touch her, be near her and not hurt her. He kissed her head and breathed her in. God he missed her.

   Y/N woke up several hours later from what she would have to say was the best sleep she’s had in months.

  ‘Hey,’ Dean said quietly.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to.’
  Y/N stood quickly and moved out the way.
  ‘Don’t apologise, I don’t mind. God I’ve missed holding you.’
  Y/N gave him a sad smile and looked at her bags.

  ‘I can’t believe you believed him,’ Dean said quietly. ‘You are so much more than I deserve.’

  Dean moved in closer and held her hand, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles.

  ‘I love you Y/N. I’m so sorry for what I did, what he made me do.’
  He watched as the emotion in her eyes changed, to uncertainty.

  ‘I need a minute,’ she said quietly.

  Dean watched her, his eyes full of pain. Struggling to deal with what she was asking. He was so scared if he left she would too.

  ‘Please.’

  Dean sighed and kissed her head. Struggling not to kiss her properly. He left her alone and went to wait in the main area, there was no way he wanted to have her walk out past him without him having the chance to stop her.

  He sat on the chair his head buried in his hands, her scent coming up from his shirt occasionally, making his heart ache all the more. She came out about an hour later, to his relief her hands were empty.

  ‘I love you,’ she said softly.

  Dean’s heart swelled and he jumped up so fast he knocked the chair over.

  ‘I. Love. You. Too. So. Much,’ Dean mumbled in between kisses.

  His tears running down her face and his. Her own mixing in with his.

  ‘Please tell me you’re staying?’

  Y/N took a moment before answering, no matter what she said the answer changed everything.

  ‘I’m sorry.’
  ‘No. Don’t say that, don’t tell me your leaving. You can’t…No,’ he cried, his voice breaking.

  Dean kissed her again, this time she didn’t return it.

  ‘I need you Y/N, I can’t go on without you. You keep the darkness away. Please.’

  ‘I need to sort myself out Dean. Figure out who I am, what I’m worth. Because right now I feel you’d have a better relationship with some bar floozy or your hand than me. I’m not in a good place. I’ll message Sam when I’m settled, but right now I think we should just keep our distance. It’s too hard.’

  ‘It’s not too hard, its simple. You love me, you stay. Don’t go acting stupid and leaving,’ Dean argued, his voice raising. He didn’t mean but he was devastated. He was losing everything. She was slipping between his fingers and there was nothing he could no and no one he could blame but himself.

  Y/N walked back into her room to grab her gear. Listening as a glass smashed against the wall.

  ‘Y/N?’ Sam said quietly from her door.

  ‘I’m sorry Sammy. I just need to sort my head out.’

  ‘You can’t do it here? We can keep our distance?’

  ‘That’s not the issue.’

  ‘He’ll keep his distance. He’ll try.’

  She gave Sam a small smile and moved out past him.

  ‘Dean wouldn’t ever say or do that stuff. He’d never dream of hurting you and he’d kill anyone who so much as thought it. Your safety is all this thinks about. He holds you on a pedestal Y/N, in his eyes he’s not worthy of you. He’s the pauper and your princess. He thinks your so far out of his league he can barely see you.’

  Y/N looked at Sam surprised.

  ‘I see it in the way he looks at you, his expression every time he realises you chose him. When he sees all these men that he puts in the same category as you and he’s the only one you have eyes for.’

  Y/N looked to the ceiling and blinked.

  ‘What you feel right now is how he feels constantly. Not a day goes by when he’s not trying to be the man you deserve.’

  Sam must have seen her expression and realised what she was thinking.

  ‘It’s nothing you did to make him feel that way,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s the life, the people dying, the guilt and self hatred that comes with the job. It’s hard to believe you deserve anything quite so amazing as the woman you love who loves you back.’

  She gave him a hug and walked out, bags in hand.

  She came face to face with Dean in the passage way. He was a wreck, worse than she had ever seen him.

  ‘Give me five minutes please, before you go?’ Dean asked quietly.

  Y/N nodded and placed her bags by the passage walk way. Dean took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

  ‘I know nothing I say will make things better, it won’t help. It won’t take the pain away. But life is better together. For both of us.’

  ‘Dean it’s not about being unhappy with life. It’s about being unhappy with me, it’s about need to move past seeing it again and again.’

  ‘How? I know what I said made you insecure but how?’

  ‘I’m not a hunter Dean. I’m slow, weak, I couldn’t kill or hurt something even a monster to save my life.’

  ‘And I love that. I love that you don’t hunt. Yes, I’d feel better if you would and could fight back if I’m not around to help. But I love that when I’m hunting your safe. I sleep better, hunt better. There’s no distractions. That said, if you ever wanted to hunt. I’d love to have you by my side. Then I get to watch you constantly not just when I’m home.’

  He saw a small smile on her lips.

‘I’m so different to everyone else.’

‘I’m not sure how that’s a bad thing.’

Dean pulled something out his duffle bag and handed it to Y/N.
 ‘What’s this?’

 ‘My reason for breathing.’

  Y/N opened it up and found photo’s inside, one or two of Sam and Dean, his parents, Bobby and the boys. But then hundreds of Y/N, and Y/N and Dean.

  ‘It’s a reminder as to how lucky I am. That I wasn’t dreaming when you agreed to date me. That I have someone worth fighting for and coming home too.’

  Y/N felt the tears in her eyes as she flicked through the pages.

  ‘I would never have taken the Mark if I knew this would happen. Losing you wasn’t worth it.’

  ‘You didn’t have a choice Dean. We both know that.’

  Dean brushed the hair from her face, his heart beating faster as she lent into his hand.

  ‘Don’t leave,’ he whispered, shifting his fingers through her hair.

  Tears welled in her eyes as she buried her head into Dean’s chest. He wrapped her up so tight he was worried he would crack her ribs.

  ‘It doesn’t mean everything’s ok,’ she said quietly.
  ‘I know. It won’t be fixed overnight. But we can’t fix it if you’re not here.’

  She pulled back and looked at him.
  ‘Then I guess I should go move my bags before someone trips on them.’
  Dean grinned at her, pulling her into him. Smothering her face and neck in kisses.

  ‘I’m more concerned about this right now,’ Dean mumbled into her mouth, moaning as she kissed him back.

anonymous asked:

Sterek prompt: Derek's the captain of the lacrosse team and goes over to Stiles' after a game and Stiles has an asthma attack, so Derek stays up with Stiles in the ER, worrying about him.

why does Stiles have an asthma attack.

why you gotta make me write semi-angst with worried Derek and injured Stiles. WHAT IF, DEREK GETS TAKEN DOWN ON THE FIELD AND STILES HAS BEEN PRETENDING NOT TO LIKE HIM ALL TERM, OK. THEY’VE BEEN JOSTLING EACH OTHER WHEN THEY WALK DOWN THE HALL, STILES HAS BEEN KNOWN TO FLICK PENS AT DEREK’S HEAD, DEREK HAS BEEN KNOWN TO ~ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE GET HIMSELF PUT IN DETENTION WHEN HE HEARS MCCALL TELLING THIS GLORIOUS STORY ABOUT STILES FILLING JACKSON’S LOCKER WITH GLITTER AND BEING PUT IN DETENTION HIMSELF, so you know, Derek kinda wanted to uh, spend time in detention, get a feel for it, he’s a good boy, he’s never done it, he has to, right? rite of passage in highschool. so he sasses a teacher and the whole class IS LIKE OOOOOH SHIT, AND BOOM, DETENTION. LIKE, THEY SAT NEXT TO EACH OTHER IN SILENCE WITH HARRIS GLARING, AND DRAWING ENDLESS HANGMAN GAMES AND STILES THINKS UP THE DIRTIEST WORDS THAT MAKE DEREK’S EARS GO PINK, worth it, though. THERE’S BEEN ENDLESS STARING AT LUNCH AS LYDIA AND ALLISON TALK OVER THEM AND SCOTT EATS STILES’ POPTARTS WITHOUT HIM EVEN NOTICING BECAUSE HE’S TOO BUSY GAZING INTO DEREK’S EYES. 

but shut UP they don’t like each other jESus. Derek is so BOSSY and annoying and makes Stiles run track with him before school, and Stiles is so LOUD with his stories that threaten to make Derek laugh, ugh, and Stiles’ stupid tight jeans and Derek’s stupid PLAIN t-shirts that make Stiles salivate, and UGH the way Stiles eats is oBSCENE and the way Derek almost smirks to himself when he gets an answer right in class or WORSE when he’s goading Stiles into debate and one minute they’re on the national economy and then Stiles is gibing Derek into explaining exactly HOW they’d afford a home in the suburbs if Derek’s going to play lacrosse professionally, is he expecting STILES to be the breadwinner here? and Finstock’s pulling his hair out in the background and Scott’s confused because WHEN DID DEREK AND STILES DECIDE THEY WERE GONNA LIVE TOGETHER? AND— OH. ok they’re glaring again, and Stiles looks smug and Derek looks grossly like… ugh, turned on, he doesn’t wanna know, he’d rather admire his own notes which are neat and beautiful and he can trade with Allison later. so there’s shoving and winding each other up and TOO MUCH SEXUAL TENSION FOR A CLASSROOM SITUATION, but they’re not in to each other GOD.

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HOUSE OF BLACK PRESENTS: a list of religious resources!

That is, individuals within our community who have practiced or currently practice a religion or belief of some kind. These individuals are open to discussing or answering questions about what its like to practice their faith.

NOTE: These individuals are here to help. Please treat them courteously and do take care to discuss and ask questions with respect. They are not here as a means to debate one religion over another, these people have volunteered their voices as information sources - so treat them well. If anyone sends me word of any source of ill-intended or insulting correspondence sent their way, they have all rights to request to be removed from this list. Be kind. Don’t be the person that cuts off another information source from someone else looking to learn.

Find them here.

anonymous asked:

Do you think our Pearl was white Diamond's pearl or Rose's pearl? And was Rose even Pink Diamond? I think not, because we now know the purpose of quartz gems and Rose fits the profile, but she is also too short to be a Diamond... Plus we saw Pink Diamond's legs (part of them anyway) and they were too skinny to be Rose's. Also Pearl's color skim and gem placement mach white Diamond's. What is you opinion about all that?

This is certainly a hot topic right now, isn’t it? Well, first, I agree that I don’t think Rose Quartz is Pink Diamond. She’s got a similar body type as the other quartz gems we’ve seen, she’s nowhere near the height of the diamonds that we know of, and considering the importance and the status of the diamonds, it’d be a lot more obvious if she was Pink Diamond. 

Rose still could have been an elite gem, perhaps very close to Pink Diamond (maybe she took down Pink Diamond???), maybe a personal guard. We know next to nothing about Pink Diamond, so it’s hard to speculate on her and her purpose among the other diamonds. 

If you want me to guess… um.. well, she could have had something to do with gem production, which brought Rose to Earth in the first place. Maybe Pink Diamond was part of the rebellion and that’s why she no longer exists. Maybe the other diamonds broke her. Or maybe none of that is true?? There’s no way to be sure at this point (but I REAALLY want to know more).

Oh yeah, next is the Pearl debate. This post right here made me really doubt that our Pearl belonged to White Diamond, and maybe she belonged to Bismuth (seriously go read that post, it’s cool). It makes a good argument about her coloration as well, that the outfits we’ve seen her in don’t make it seem like she belonged to White Diamond. 

Even in The Answer, the farthest back we’ve seen Pearl (5,750 years ago), her outfit was multi-colored. Could mean she belonged to Bismuth at the beginning. Alternatively, she has coloration that fits every single one of the diamonds: blue, white, yellow, and pink. Maybe she helped all the diamonds. Or maybe she changed her appearance after she was liberated and joined Rose Quartz, Or maybe she belonged to Pink Diamond and that’s how she met Rose in the first place. She could have even been a gift to Rose Quartz.

There are countless possibilities and I really can’t be sure about anything at this point. I get disproven a lot, so I don’t want to make a definitive statement. There’s evidence to prove many different theories, so I’ll just leave these ideas here so people can see and make their own judgement. 

One thing is for certain tho. Pearl is a fancy one.

- Mod Sparky

I never really posted much about the Q&A after the live show the other night, but random bits of it keep coming back to me. Note that none of these are exact quotes (forgive me if I mangled anything) and they’re not in sequence, but it gets at the spirit of the thing:

- Someone asked about what sorts of non-human voices/sound effects they can all do. We got treated to an assortment of monster noises from Matt and Liam especially. Taliesin’s crow sounds quickly got called out (so to speak), and then he bounced it back to Liam with “He’s got one I can’t do,” whereupon Liam did a pretty spot-on Speak & Spell. (If you’ve never played with one, this is what they sound like.) Of course then he went and said, in that voice, “I will kill you in your sleep.” ;)

- Laura read the full specs of Trinket’s buff. (It’s pretty sweet. For one thing, so long as he stays within a hundred feet of her and his HP drops to zero, he’ll safely be called back into the locket. Trinket: legit Pokemon.) Someone asked Sam if this revised his opinion of Trinket at all, and he basically went all “As Scanlan, I still think he’s useless…but as Sam, that’s great.” 

- Laura to Matt: “So if I hadn’t brought Trinket out right then, would I ever have gotten this…?”
Matt: “Nope.”

- They also apparently went waaaaaay around something Matt had planned for the Threshold Crest. Percy and Keyleth, getting all sneaky…

- One of the very (if not the) first questions asked, actually: what’s in Matt’s notes. We got to see them! …albeit at a distance. :) “It’s sort of like a report…” Bullet points on the basics, then more detailed info about characters and places, all sorts of little things.

- Someone in the audience really was there all the way from Europe, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s the one who won (by random cast selection of a letter and number, corresponding to his seat) the infamous broken motherboard from a few weeks ago. Which prompted a few jokes about how to get THAT thing home / past the TSA…

- Someone asked about their favorite projects they’ve done / characters they’ve played, which prompted a couple “there’s cool stuff I can’t talk about”-type answers, but as Travis pointed out, “We’ve lived with these characters longer than anything else.”

- Liam got asked about running games like this with kids, and his recommendations had a lot to do with simplifying things: shorter, more linear missions, only a couple significant branches, basically keeping things contained and on track.

- Matt jokingly commenting re: guests / additional party members / group size, which is already a lot to wrangle: “I love Zahra as much as the next person, BUT…” 

- There was a question about the conversion from Pathfinder to 5E and whether or not Matt would have done it if they hadn’t done the show. Verdict: yes. As I recall it, Matt said he’d sort of gotten burned by 4th Edition (there were a lot of sympathetic groans) but 5th was more promising, especially for a group of that size, since it streamlined so much of the combat mechanics. So the show stepped up his timeline a bit on the conversion, but he would have done it anyway.

- The last question was about which roleplay moments they’re all the most proud of. Taliesin answered with that conversation Percy and Keyleth had about civilization during “Hope,” in part because he said in real life, he’s much more like Keyleth and Marisha’s much more like Percy, so when they get into these inverted debates and have to take the other’s side, they both keep having moments of, “Damn it, that’s a good point…” Meanwhile, Sam cited the whole thing with Kaylie, if I recall right, and the whole triceratops escapade (forgot that, added!); Travis mentioned a couple moments and I forget what one of them was, argh hah, thank you, Reddit, you were useful here: the scene in the toilet talking with his sword :) , and I believe he brought up Kevdak; Laura went to the conversation with Syldor, in part because she really had no idea how that was going to go; and Liam’s response included “from going through the Briarwoods’ door right up through not dying.” 

- …and I’m forgetting things. But this is a fair bit of it!

eta: I also got my memory jogged by PungentPomegranates’ comment on Reddit, and I’m just going to quote this bit for my own reference:

There was also a question like, “What is one thing you still want to explore with your character from a roleplaying perspective that you haven’t been able to do so far?” I can’t remember all the answers. But Travis answered he would like to see Grog fall in love and explore that side of him. Sam mentioned he was really curious to see what would happen if one of them died, not that he actually wants it to happen. But that he wants to see how the group/characters would react, what they would do after the fact, and what having a new character would do to the group dynamic. Matt went on to say how close it has been to happening and that as the story progressed there was a greater chance of it now that they were going deeper into the Fey Wild and going to places in the future like The Abyss. They all joked it would probably be Liam/Vax who would die first.

anonymous asked:

I kinda feel like Riley doesn't know the emotional part of Maya. We all know how good Maya is in hiding her feelings and I think there was a limit you know? Riley only knows what Maya shows her. She never really tried to see the bigger picture and that's why she doesn't know how to help. Maya never let Riley see this part of her, she always hid it, she was always tough, but this time Riley noticed it.

Yep! But you know who HAS seen the emotional part of Maya? You know who’s looked right smack deep in her eyes in more than one vulnerable moment?

You can’t truly put Maya all the way back together without that part of her, the part of her that was willing to be truly vulnerable and eventually take a *huge* brave risk with her heart instead of hiding behind a façade. That was GROWTH.

(And some of y'all might think Josh is the answer here, but we’re gonna have to table that debate for a few weeks.)

But really, just rewatch the Corpanga pep talk and the rooftop scene again…

Alright but does anyone actually know what Charlie Hebdo’s position on islamophobia actually is? Because i’m fucking tired of all the misinformed bs.

What most people at Charlie Hebdo think, is that religion as an institution is not a good thing. You can agree with that or not, but their precise point is that, whereas you are free to believe in whatever you want, the existence of organized structures with leaders and general arbitrary rules meant to impose a particular way of exercising faith actually endangers people’s free will and their ability to think for themselves. Those of them who are still here to explain their work keep saying again and again that they never make fun of religious people, but that they do make fun of religions as oppressive structures.

Same goes for any religion.

It’s literally soooo easy to understand that it has absolutely nothing to do with racism or xenophobia: they think that the mere concept of religion takes power away from people and that anyone, wherever they live, wherever they come from, deserves better than this. That’s it. 

So yeah i suppose you could talk about islamophobia, but that’s a bit inaccurate.
First of all islamophobes hate/shame/criticize Muslim people as they are different from them, whereas Charlie Hebdo aims to show that Muslim people don’t benefit at all from the existence of Islam as an institution. This idea can be debated, but it’s like, a philosophical question (do people need religion to be happy? is religion necessary to society? does a culture have to be linked with a particular form of religion to be legitimate as a culture? etc) and whatever your opinion is on the subject, it can’t be morally wrong because it’s not going to hurt anyone.
Second of all, as i said, if you want to talk about islamophobia regarding Charlie Hebdo, it has to go along with christianophobia (is that even a thing?), anti-semitism etc and to be quite honest it wouldn’t make any sense. That’s not the question. They just want to mock the great figures of religious structures, whether it be any prophets, mullahs/ulamas, rabbis, or the pope, because to them, these figures stand for principles and creeds meant to make the population submissive and easier to tame. Obviously you can argue that religion is necessary to people and/or generally a good thing, but no, you can’t say that “they’re fucking islamophobes” not to mention “they’re fucking racists” bc that’s like 100000 miles away from the truth.
Thirdly, islamophobia and any kind of rejection of difference are, per se, not open to debate. I don’t know if you have seen many cartoons from Charlie Hebdo but generally speaking you can’t actually say “oh the point here is ***”. What does this cartoon mean? What is the serious message behind the humour? Is there any serious message behind the humour? Is it necessary that there be one? Is there an actual precise point that stands out within the serious message? What questions does this cartoon raise? There are very few occasions where you can answer these questions right after seeing the drawing. It’s meant to make you 1) laugh 2) think 3) understand that things are more complicated than they seem. These people are most of the time ready to discuss stuff. That’s not the definition of islamophobia.

So yeah, there are things they can be reproached for. One could argue that they’re not funny. One could argue that they go too far. One could argue that if a cartoon addressing political issues needs side explanations from the artist to be understood and not to hurt innocent people’s feelings, then it hasn’t achieved its goal. One could argue that a newspaper cannot deem itself ‘irresponsible’ and that it has a part of responsibility in society.

But calling Charlie Hebdo “racist bastards” betrays a profound lack of knowledge of the situation and of understanding of this side of the the opinion they convey.