screwed up generation

We stay up late and we blast our music and drink vodka and do drugs and laugh and cry and have the best time because we are the sick generation. Intoxicated by love and desperate for danger. We belong to nobody. We break hearts and we get our hearts broken. We are the kids your parents warned you about.
—  Ais
Reggie Mantle x Reader PART ONE: THE ARTIST & THE JOCK

Before the story starts I must say this one is pretty long because I needed to tell you a bit of the backstory I have created, and hopefully you guys like this it’s my first fanfic ever. Also I see very little Reggie Imagines, so one came to mind and I decided to write, please comment what you think about it. I’m thinking of turning into little series so I’m guessing this is Part One.

words: 1974

Summary: The beginning of something b/w the reader and Reggie

Spoilers: Its gonna get good by Part two i promise, hopefully you guys like it

Part Two - Part Three - Part Four -  Part Five - Part Six    

Such a small town Riverdale was. A town where everyone knew each other. By default though, the town you once knew was falling apart. Your parents’ generation was so screwed up and your generation was just trying to make it out alive.

           The next thing you knew this wholesome town had turned into a horror film, and you were not looking forward to the ending. Ms. Grundy was exposed a sexual predator and sent to Jail, and as happy as many people were that she had been put away, you couldn’t help but think how your friend Archie was doing. Not everyone knew that it was Archie who she had been with, as The Coopers decided to keep his identity a secret for his sake and the fact that Betty would not have them humiliate him.

           Then the incident of July 4th, when Jason Blossom was running away with Polly Cooper. Forbidden love, which ended in such a tragic ending with the murder of Jason. Then again does Forbidden love ever get a happy ending?  There you could not help to think of how both Cheryl and Betty were doing. Cheryl had lost her best friend, her confidant, the only one who was there for her unlike the rest of her tragic family dynamic. Betty in a sense lost Polly too since her parents sent her away because “she was not well” and she hasn’t seen Polly since.

           With you though you’re problems weren’t as big as theirs. Growing up in Riverdale was not easy, especially when all of us kids were just trying to make our parents happy, while trying to do the things we loved. You were the neutral ground for all the kids, well you and Betty. You had always hung out with almost every kid in Riverdale, from Betty, Archie, Kevin, Jughead, Cheryl, Chuck, Moose, Ethel, Trev, Josie, Valerie, Melody and Reggie. Now adding the new girl Veronica who seemed quite nice. She had her share of dysfunctional family problems too just like many of us in Riverdale. You’re parents came from nothing and in Riverdale they blossomed, your dad became a doctor and became rich and your mom decided to quit her job to support the household, which was not really her choice, but she would do anything for your father.

           These days though you were all grown up, many from different sides of the high school spectrum. Cheryl had her River Vixens cheerleading squad, Archie found love in music and sports (Such a Troy Bolton), Kevin realized he was gay (which we all accepted), Jughead found comfort in writing, Betty opened up The Blue & Gold newspaper for school again and dragged Jughead with her. Josie made a band with Val and Melody, Reggie/Chuck/Moose/Trev decided to channel their issues in the Jock spectrum. You however loved art, so they’d catch you drawing or painting hanging out with all of these losers on your free time. Oh did I forget to mention where Veronica made you and Betty tryout for the River Vixens. You only did it for the reason you do anything for anyone, to make them happy. Obviously you thought you weren’t going to make it. Proven wrong though when Cheryl accepted you because you were her friend and she knew you had “fire” only when your “fire” is needed. Though since the light of events this summer You and Veronica helped get Betty on the team.

            .

           You were arriving home in your new uniform since you didn’t have time to change, Your mother seemed a little too happy about you joining the vixens, and dad was just happy you weren’t just the “hippie”  artist.  I did say this was a small town right? Well word got around that you were now a vixen. And to avoid your parent’s cheeriness about this whole ensemble you changed and decided to go to Pops.

           As you opened the door to Pops with the delightful smell of burgers and fries, you looked to your right to see Jughead in his usual booth typing away and slip across him in the booth.

“Hey” you stated as he looked up. “What no more uniform?” he retorted.

“Oh c’mon not you too, I am so tired of the comments and looks I have gotten” as you replied back Arch, Kevin, Bets, and Ronnie were coming into Pops

“Oh c’mon (Y/N) you talk to everybody here, you were bound to became a bit of the “in-crowd” Jug signals with his fingers.

“I just don’t want this to take time away from my art” You replied as the gang snuck into the booth.

“You can do both like me, (Y/N)” Archie answered with a smile as you gave a shoulder shrug.

“I only did this, because Ronnie made me, and thinking Cheryl wouldn’t let me in” you exclaimed.

“Oh come on I just recently met you and I can now see you have legs!” Veronica exclaimed after listening into our conversation.

“Yeah (Y/N) we’ve all known you for so long honestly I thought the only part of you that moved were those hands when they’re painting away.” Kevin adds on with a giggle

and so we kept on talking until it was our curfew and we had to go, the only one who ever stays behind is Jug trying to fix up his novel.

“Get some rest” you say to Jug as you are one of the last one there and he just gives you a glare and bids you goodbye.

The next morning as you were getting ready to leave your house, your parents call you.

“(Y/N), we need to talk to you!” Your mom shouted from downstairs.

“Coming!” you shouted back, grabbing your stuff for practice later.

“Hey mom, dad what’s up?” you asked as you reached them in the kitchen.

“We are having dinner with The Mantles on Friday night” your father answered

“And we need you home and go buy yourself something nice for the dinner” your mother ordered with a smile as she continued dads sentence.

Confused as to what’s going on since you don’t really mingle with The Mantles anymore you ask “Why?”

Dad just shoots you a look “Its business, and I want you here and that’s final (Y/N).”

You nod and make your way to the door and get the bike to get to school.

As you walk through the hall reaching your locker to shove in your Vixens outfit, he appears with a smug look on his face.

“Hey (Y/N), looking good today, um well you look good all days” Reggie fidgets and continues “but you definitely look good today.”

“I’d like to think so” you retort “but does this by any chance have to do with the fact that our parents are having a dinner on Friday?” you question Reggie

“Well a bit, but I always have to compliment a girl when she looks good” he smirks

“OH MY SAVIOR!” you give a sarcastic comment while motioning your hands to forehead like a damsel in distress, as Betty and Ronnie approach you.

“Hey, Reggie” Veronica speaks up, “um I was wondering if you’d like to do something on Friday?” she asks Reggie

“Sorry Ron, I got plans with my family and (Y/N) family” and he bids farewell by reaching to his forehead with his hand as if he was tipping an imaginary hat and walks off with his Goonies as Jug likes to call them.

“The (Y/L/N) and The Mantles together again, it’s been so long, what’s the occasion?”  Betty questions me.

“Is there something I’m missing here (Y/N)? You said you guys were just childhood friends” Ronnie adds on

“Oh, oh… my god no! We used to be very close when we were smaller, but um… no, you can have him Ron I haven’t changed my mind, and my dad said its purely business related” you retort while closing my locker answering to both Betty and Veronica.

The day goes by and during lunch you head on to ask Cheryl if there is going to be practice on Friday.

“No, I got some things to do at home (Y/N), have a nice dinner with The Mantles” Cheryl answers and gives me devilish smirk

“It is not like that Cheryl, just a business dinner” you answer annoyed.

“I always did think he’d end up with you, before he went full jock king on us and you ended up the tortured artist” she stated with sly smile.

The week went by and you bought yourself a dress that both you and your mom could find middle ground on since you preferred jeans and t-shirt on any occasion. It was Friday during lunch and you were with Jug, Kevin, Arch, Bets, and Ronnie. Talking about your plans for the weekend when Kevin decided to have a movie night tonight.

“Can’t, family dinner, if I skip it they’ll put me on death row” You told Kev

“Seriously? Ok how about Saturday night then?” Kevin asks

“Yeah, I think I can, how about you guys?” you ask the rest of the group

“Yeah sure, Betty and I will stop sleuthing for a night” Jug answers while taking a bit of food from all of us, while Betty nods

“I’m in!” Veronica states “What about you Archiekins?” She says taking away one of Archie’s fries.

“Yeah” the red-haired boy answered.

Reggie made his way to the table

“Hope you’re not making any plans for tonight (Y/N/N) my parents and my little sister would be so sad” Reggie states with a puppy dog expression.

“Oh, God please don’t call me that.” you tell Reggie while making an annoyed face.

“What? You love it when I call you that!” Reggie proclaims

“Yeah when we were eight” you declare as he walks off before Ronnie can get to talk to him.

“Well he’s been awfully sweet to you lately” Betty announces to the group

“It’s probably because he doesn’t want me telling our parents he’s a jerk most of the time” you say, while Ronnie just looks at you with a small smile, before you get to speak again, to re-assure Ronnie, Kevin decides to open his mouth.

“OMG, Sorry Ron, but you and Reggie, can it be? Straight out of a movie plot” he motions his hands together against his heart.

“I promise, he’s yours for the taking Ron” you speak up glaring at Kevin.

At the end of the school day as you’re getting ready to go home Ronnie stops to talk to you.

“Hey (Y/N), look if you like Reggie it’s okay, I mean you guys have history, I’m new and he doesn’t even give me the time of day, I mean…”

You grab her by the shoulder and cut her off by saying “Look Ron, you like him, me and Reg were just friends, I have never thought about him like that, never.”

Ronnie gives you a sad smile “Look I’m just saying the guy is hot, and he doesn’t even look my way, when he looks and talks to you it is like he is not that douchebag everyone thinks he is”

“Ron I… I… look… Look I am not going to let you mope around like this, I admit that Reg is good looking, but that could never happen you like him, and were just polar opposites that could never work out” You reassure her.

She looks at you still a bit sad and so you speak up again “I promise to talk you up during dinner, so he can start crushing on you, I’d invite you, but my parents as I have said would put be on death row if I did”

You bid goodbyes as you headed home to get ready for dinner with The Mantles.

Man it is going to a long night…

Originally posted by riverdalesource

Tag: @sgarrett49 @oharchiekinz

anonymous asked:

Hi! I am in love with your advice! Would you be able to point out some helpful websites or ideas on how to write children and teenagers having to mandatorily serve in the army? Thank you so much!

First, in modern times, that is uber illegal. Like, war crimes illegal. If they are 15-18, it’s more complicated, but if they’re under 15 (which I assume “children and teenagers” falls under), it’s really illegal.

There are (in modern times) essentially three kinds of child soldiers (which is a generic term, not one that just means soldiers who are under the age of 13). I’m going to term them the British type, the Bolivian type, and the Central African Republic type. Know that all of those are titles only given because they are countries where this happens, not that they are necessarily in any way illustrative of the region or the people in them.

In the British type (which happens in the UK, Australia, Canada, USA, India, and a number of other countries), people can join the army when they’re younger than eighteen (but older than fifteen), but they can’t serve in combat until they are eighteen. Some countries have specific exemptions that allow for under-eighteen service in cases where evacuation isn’t possible (like Australia) but otherwise do not allow for service of anyone under the age of eighteen.

In the Bolivian type (which happens in Bolivia, Cuba, Zimbabwe, Burma/Myanmar and a number of other countries), the governmental army has soldiers who are under eighteen (and often under fifteen) who fight in combat. This often ends up being mandatory and is really looked down upon by the international community.

In the Central African Republic type (which happens in the Central African Republic, Burma/Myanmar, Sri Lanka, Syria, Chechnya, and a number of other countries), non-governmental military or paramilitary forces have children in them. In these cases it is especially common for the groups to forcibly take the children, who are often then addicted to drugs so they will be more willing and able to commit atrocities. Girls who are taken in—something which is less common but does happen—are commonly sexually assaulted.

I’m assuming you’re talking about the Bolivian and Central African Republic types, because the British type is generally relatively benign and most people don’t have an issue with it. You also mentioned mandatory service. There are essentially two ways that you can go about having mandatory military service. The first is like the draft in the US, where it is the law. The second, which works especially with children, is to abduct people and force them to become soldiers. This is especially common in the Central African Republic type, but it also happens in the Bolivian type. This happened a number of times in Cold War-era conflicts like in El Salvador.

Here are a few things to think about:

  • Machine guns are probably the best things (best in regards to efficacy rather than morality) for child soldiers, because they’re not that heavy and they don’t require a ton of training to hit what you’re aiming at.
  • It’s going to be really difficult especially for young children to do physical tasks that a normal military person in somewhere like the United States would do.
  • Especially if this is a large-scale thing, this is going to really screw up a generation (or more). You have children growing up killing people, and so their view of morality would be…off at best. Killing would be their normal.
  • It’s going to be pretty hard to get a child to go into a war zone without any sort of enticement. Drugs are often a good way to do this, especially if you don’t care all that much about whether or not the children survive.
  • You need to think about whether fighting will be required for only boys or for both boys and girls.
  • You need to figure out the command structure. Are children leading other children, and if not, does the hierarchy stagnate from whenever they are brought in (at 7, 11, 15, whenever) until they reach whatever you count as being an adult? If so, why does anyone trust their decision-making capabilities?
  • There are positions in the military other than fighting. They can also be scouts, medics, cooks, intelligence analysts, or numerous other things.
This is what it's like to be part of 'Generation Avocado'

When you arrive in London as two fresh-faced graduates excited to get on with life but realise over time you’re just two twentysomething nothings living in a brunch-crazed world, you know it’s time to shake things up. For us two yupsters, Dave and Max, quitting our jobs in head-hunting and branding and going to theatre school seemed like the most sensible thing to do #PlotTwist.

Ahead of our Edinburgh Festival Fringe comedy show this August, we’re here to give you a taste of what it’s been like growing up (but mainly screwing up) in the “Avocado Generation”.

How to spend it

When it comes to consumption, we have a unique attitude to spending and put our hard-earned cash towards sensible things like almond milk, noise-cancelling headphones and tickets to Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone live at the Royal Albert Hall (exciting!). Even at the most creatively vacuous corporate day prisons, we feel the urge to invest in the most enviable lunches.

Where Dave should buy the £3.29 Boots meal deal he instead has to head to Whole Foods for ingredients that would be more familiar to a 13th-century Peruvian peasant, not a recruitment agent from Hammersmith. “Here’s to never being able to afford a deposit for a flat,” he says on an extra-legroom seat on a flight to Barcelona. For we are the flat white-downing, quinoa-munching, triathlon-running Avo-Gens who don’t see the point. Pay now, think later.

Game of homes

The chances of us two chaps buying a house or flat are as likely as Theresa May skinny-dipping in the Serpentine. We are told to save but the only way we know how is to nestle into bed on Friday night instead of going out and smashing through unwatched episodes of Love Island while eating boiled rice.

There’s no doubt the main hope for anyone in our generation looking to buy is our parents, who are getting left behind in this age of technology yet still hold all the power. Maybe we could both bump off our parents quietly, but we’d probably end up inheriting their mortgage. “If we can’t live in London, fear not! We can always snap up that canal boat in Staffordshire we’ve been looking at,” Max reassures himself.

Love me Tinder

We both think we’re able to disconnect from the digital world. But then Max arrives at Devon’s remotest Airbnb to find the wi-fi doesn’t work and spends hours rocking back and forth in a cold shower, praying that the pub across the valley will let him see if Lucy from Tinder has replied to his pathetic winky face.

Both of us are compelled to connect with love interests digitally and this affects our real-life behaviour. Dave was once on a train and saw a girl he fancied. He had to act. What is more likely to have happened? A) He approached her like the Matthew McConaughey you’ve seen in myriad rom-coms to deliver the line “You are the most beautiful woman I ever seen, have dinner with me.” B) He immediately went on Happn and prayed for a match. — I think you know the answer.

We’re wondering what men did back in the day? Maybe all the chaps of the baby boomer generation approached women on their commute with the swashbuckling confidence of Justin Bieber after a few beers. Maybe even our dads had such swag. Surely not?

Dating’s a joy when you manage to get one in the diary. But you will inevitably be deemed a cheapskate or a sexist depending on what happens with the bill. To split or not to split, that is the question. Ultimately Dave concludes, that you just can’t win. But after thumbing through Facebook posts and seeing another engagement announcement, he wants to flush himself down into the Thames.

Looking for a casual escape from the dating game and a spot of adventure somewhere in between Zones 1-6, Max joined a threesome app. But he got bamboozled after being presented with more options for defining one’s sexuality than you could shake a turmeric bulb at. Now he’s been forced to seriously question his sexuality. “Do I qualify for pansexual? What about polysexual? Maybe I’m heteroflexible during the week and homoflexible at the weekends. What is the difference between omnisexual or autosexual?” Sexuality has become a Dulux colour palette of choice. When a group of Max’s friends started discussing how gay they might be as a percentage (as you do), he was forced to make a decision. “I’m 20 per cent gay,” he declared, on a bus to Kennington.

Work it

Top grads (which we are not) are shunning the 27-floor behemoth corporates and choosing to join start-ups. Hello to in-house baristas and edible business cards. As a start-up foot soldier, Max can say that the best thing about working for a start-up is that you can say “I work for a start-up” to anyone. “Excuse me,” he inquires of a passer-by on Regent Street, “did I mention I work at one of London’s leading start-ups?”

For him, working in a shared work space felt like a version of The Crystal Maze, but with a lot less cash flying about. The only things flying around where he worked were ping-pong balls and the steady whiff of newly applied beard oil. At least now he’s an expert at cleaning the office fish tank and chairing conference calls behind the marquee at family weddings.

When the hamster wheel of start-up life began to spin out of control, he gave Oscar-winning performances to family and friends to reassure them it was all going marvellously, before crying on the shoulder of the Deliveroo cyclist who had finally turned up outside the office.

Political animals

When it comes to politics, us two Avo-Gen falafel eaters know we’re both embarrassed and guilty about growing up in a middle-class Tory utopia. After being slapped wide awake by the Brexit-Trump 2016 there was only one thing to do: we voted Labour. For Dave, it’s also thanks to grime artists like JME getting involved in its campaign that swayed him. Max would have preferred Chris Martin.

Ironically, despite our proud salute to the left in the recent election, the next week we both found ourselves dodging an ambush from a charity collector outside Highbury and Islington station before buying a pint of cocktail saucissons at £8 a pop at our favourite gentrified pub.

In this jittery new world, we’re completely addicted to news. It’s a rush. Max admits to collecting new news sites like he used to collect Pokémon cards. Dave is waking up at 4.30am desperately clucking for his news fix. Maybe we both need help. In this futile quest for truth, the reality is us two Brits have no idea what we believe and will change our allegiance depending on the last compelling article we read from anywhere on the political spectrum, from anywhere in the world.

With all of this going on it’s no surprise that we feel anxious. But what the hell. Let’s keep listening to Stephen Fry narrating The Prisoner of Azkaban late at night. Here’s to becoming a shaky, sweaty mess at ashtanga yoga on Thursday evenings. Hooray for doing meditation on the Central line, and spending most of it thinking about sex. Yes, don’t worry at all. All we need to do in the post-Brexit Marxist apocalypse Britain that awaits is to splash our begged cash on organic, lactose-free asparagus sorbet.

Max and Dave’s comedy sketch show Avocado! is at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, August 2-27.

Book tickets at:tickets.edfringe.com/whats-on/avocado

I’m tired of the people in power these days. They love to tell stories
of past struggles as if it is not in existence any longer. This is not
some story you can tell me to fix something. I am no longer a child,
you will not sneak into my room at night and disturb the pillow
holding my dreams, because money does not buy happiness. You see, what is about to happen is since your generation screwed up, it’s high time ours took over. We are the 90s kids that quickly learned that our Will can not be broken because the Smith fathers that left us behind are the screw ups, not us. We screamed, “ahhhh!” When we learned the real monsters were in fact the adults in our lives and not the ones on tv. And we are the ones that invented Tumblr fame because celebrities that make it big eventually forget from whence they came. So I challenge my generation, to remember that we are now THE generation and it is time for the cremation and degeneration of those that pretended everything was equal in our nation.
— 

Just some thoughts I had on a bus ride today…

thewinksofgod

  • Mom, to her friend from our church: This generation sucks, right? Like those kids using gadgets..
  • Her friend: I know right? It's so screwed.
  • Mom: Let's not forget about the US legalizing same sex marriage.
  • Me: What? What are you talking about?
  • Mom: How screwed this generation is, like America legalizing same sex marriage.
  • Me: What's wrong with same sex marriage? It doesn't screw the generation up..
  • Mom: What are you talking about? Did you not hear what's in the bible---
  • Me: No no no, I'm gonna stop you right there.. You know what's really screwed in this generation?
  • Mom: *stares blankly*
  • Me: Is that Christian homophobes will still not shut up about same sex marriage is a sin, please just stop and please just leave them alone. They're actually nicer than you, mom. Shoving the bible up to their asses is actually a sin though. I'm sorry.
Saiino makes perfect sense

I totally understand why Saiino appears to be a very weird pairing at first glance. Ino is a high-maintenance girl who requires much attention, while Sai is a socially-awkward wreck who isn’t very captivating. Furthermore, shikamaru and Ino seem to be a much more likely ship due to their interaction within the shika-ino-cho formation.

I was also a shipper of ShikaIno. Actually, I still am. When the SaiIno pairing became canon, I was shocked and disappointed, but after a while, I realised that it made a lot of sense.

1) If Ino married Shikamaru, ino-shika-cho would be screwed up in the next generation because The ino-shika part of the formation are siblings, causing the formation to no longer have a distinctive yamanaka and nara clan technique.

2) Ino would become Nara Ino if she married Shikamaru. That would be a bummer, because Yamanaka, Nara, and Akimichi clans have always been three separate families. By making Ino a part of the Nara family, the distinct Yamanaka gene is pretty much mixed with Nara genes which really sucks.

3) In the next generation, there must be an Ino-shika-cho, because it’s only proper. Because Ino is female, naturally, she takes her husband’s last name. The only way Ino can retain her last name to continue the legacy of Ino-shika-cho is to marry a man without a last name. The only person who qualifies is Sai.

Note: I know these first 3 points seem like political reasons that Ino married Sai and not Shikamaru but read on please:)

4) Ino symbolizes the flower while Sai symbolizes the root. A flower cannot bloom without its roots and a root cannot be beautiful without a flower. This point is kinda self-explanatory.

5) Let’s also look at their personalities. Sai, while distant and somewhat unapproachable, is actually longing for love and affection because he has been denied of emotion for so long. Ino, on the other hand, is significantly more emotional and social than her counterpart. Sai wouldn’t mind her personality because she has a refreshing charscter from what he has known all his life. This creates a good balance for their relationship. On the other hand, Shikamaru is the type of person who cannot put up with a needy, emotional wreck like Ino–he requires an intellectually capable counterpart who can engage in smart discussion (and is also independent), thus, Temari.

I hope this analysis was insightful:)

I still do ship shikaino, because I think they do share a bond that even romance can’t touch. They may have discovered feelings for each other along the way, somewhere down the road they realised that their personalities clashed and weren’t compatible in a romantic relationship. But for the sake of the team, their legacy and their happiness, it’s best for Shikamaru and Ino to stay platonic.

anonymous asked:

Sorry to be depressing but at this point i think the human race is done for. the newer generation knows how to fix so many problems but by the time we're old enough to be listened to the old people will have destroyed anything worth saving because humans are selfish and greedy beings that will be their own undoing.

eh tbh i’m more scared of our own generation at this point

i’m quite convinced that censorship is gonna come back which, frankly, TERRIFIES me. I’ve always been a big supporter of Voltaire’s “I disapprove of what you say, but I defend to the death your right to say it.” 

This whole ‘you say one wrong thing and then get attacked by hundreds of people you don’t know, lose your job and your family and essentially your whole life on a comment you’d do anything to take back’ culture is awful, in my opinion. Yea, shitty people have shitty opinions, but the idea that most of tumblr would consider it justified to destroy their entire lives over those opinons is fucked up. 

It’s okay to hate an opinion. It’s okay to hate someone for their shitty opinion. But it’s not okay to tell them they don’t have the right to freedom of thought, to try and censor them and then destroy them if it doesn’t work. What is this, 1984?

Plus, greedy, power-hungry people are not, nor have they ever been, limited to today’s older generations. I hate to break it to ya, but humankind has been like this for thousands of years - corruption is part of our nature. Tumblr has a habit of blaming everything on the older generations, as if they’re the first ones who’ve ever been greedy or screwed up the economy. Every generation has bad people, and we’re not exempt from that.

BUT

There are good people in every generation too. If there’s anything we know for sure, it’s that for thousands of years, the human race has fucked up, and waged war, and experienced things have seemed like the end of the world - but we’ve always dragged ourselves out of the dirt and back on our feet in the end.

As shitty as things might seem to you now, they’ll work themselves out; it’s just the cycle of the world. Hey - those people who lived under Vlad the Imapler’s rule, the ones who woke up every morning with the fear of having themselves or their loved ones literally impaled, probably looked pretty pessimistically on their elders and people in power too. 

But, hey, we’re still here, aren’t we?