#I also wrote an essay once where I stumbled into realizing a way to relate to Moses as someone raised in an interfaith household

[alagaisia]

I’m going to say it. I think Moses is going to win the tanakh sexyman bracket.

It’s all fun and games voting for trees and rocks and background characters, but even aside from the picture chosen, I can’t imagine *not* voting for Moses. I don’t care if he’s a sexyman or not. Like. That’s my guy. It’s him! It’s a silly little tumblr poll and I am not very religious at all but he is the main guy. To me. I’m sure all these other stories are just as important rabbinically speaking and in terms of like creating and protecting the Jewish people. But my dad did not read them to me every year at Passover while we all participated in Rituals™️!

And I have to imagine others feel the same way since he’s cleaning up right now with 75% while everyone else’s polls are closer together.

[ariadne-does-her-best]

Sparks Dancing Across Your Skin

Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: Mentions of death, gets very angsty but ends with a happy ending :)

Author's Note: Hey guys! I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying to post once every two weeks on Sunday but its very difficult for me right now. I just started college this week so I haven't been very active on any of my socials because of my orientation schedule. Originally, this was going to be around the same length as the Dick one-shot but when I finished writing it, it didn’t feel complete so I may go back and turn this into a series. I’m not very satisfied with this but I did want to try and post regularly. Please let me know how you like this and if you would be willing to read a series with a similar plot. Thank you, Ariadne.

Summary: As someone with a busy schedule, you never really thought of who could be your soulmate. Rather you didn’t have the time. But lucky for you, it’s your friend. Unluckily for you, he’s a vigilante and you don’t even know his secret identity. 

You sighed as you packed up your belongings. You never meant to stay late but here you were, sitting in Mrs. Jones’s classroom, and if the clock was correct, Mrs. Jones herself had left more than two hours ago.

The class committee meetings weren’t supposed to take so long but that was only if the president, vice president, and secretary were all sharing the workload. As president, you had to pick up all of the slack that your friends left you. But you didn’t mind since you understood that they also have a life outside of school.

As you left the classroom, you made sure the door was locked on the inside before checking your phone. You only had one text and it was from your mother, telling you that she had to jet over to Paris to meet with an investor and that your father had gone to South Korea to look at some sort of textile for her. She ended the text by saying that she loves you and that she’ll try to be back in a week.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, turning the corner of the hallway towards the main entrance. You had parked your car in the back of the parking lot, something that you had started to regret once you saw how deserted the school really was. Remembering the fact that most people were kidnapped in parking lots, albeit grocery store parking lots, they were still parking lots at the end of the day. You sped up when you saw your car and yanked the door open before locking it after sitting inside. When you turned around to put your seatbelt on, you let out a scream when you saw that someone was in your backseat.

“Calm down, it's just me,” the boy said in the back, his red domino mask doing nothing to mask the laughter threatening to spill out of his mouth.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the boy who was laying on your backseat. Robin was organizing the items in your car, putting them into two piles. You watched him as he pulled out a piece of gum and popped a bubble. You smiled as you shook your head before coughing as you turned your car on, effectively grabbing his attention.

“You wanna go to the diner and tell me why you’re not with the Bat tonight?”

At that he pursed his lips, a small smile threatening to spill over.

“I dunno if I should…”

“I’ll pay.”

“Deal.”

*****

When you had first met Robin, it was after he had tried to help you escape from a mugger. Instead of cowering like he had expected you to, you had just grabbed the man's arm, twisting it as far back as you could without breaking it, and kicked him down. Robin had swooped down, laughing as he handcuffed the man and complimented you on your punch. You both were waiting for the GCPD when your stomach grumbled and you offered to treat him to some waffles at the diner across the street since it had started snowing. After that, you both kept meeting up frequently at night, him on patrol and you going home after finishing whatever official school-related event you had.

And soon enough, those nights all added up to you and Robin meeting up frequently to eat at the same diner from the first time you had met. You liked your friendship with Robin. Even though you had no idea who he was under the mask, you felt comfortable with him, like he was your rock to help keep you grounded.

As you sat there and watched him fiddle with the menu, you resisted the urge to grab his hands and instead looked down at your own hands. You started picking at the skin on one of your still healing scabs from where a cat from the animal shelter you volunteered at had scratched you.

“You should stop that,” Robin was looking at you, his bottom lip stuck out slightly in what you recognized as worry.

“You’re my distraction,” you waved your hand at him, “so go on, distract me.”

“What do you want me to talk about,” he asked as he leaned back, letting Linda, the waitress, put your regular orders down on the table. After a chorus of ‘thank you’s, you sipped your hot chocolate and contemplated on what to ask him. There was so much you didn’t know about Robin, such as his identity, but you didn’t want to scare him away.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”.

“Maybe a librarian,” he said after a long pause. You smiled at that and started stuffing your face with your hashbrowns, watching as Robin finished chewing his food.

“What about you, what do you want to be?”

You sat there, thinking. You never really knew what you wanted to be. Every year, you would have a new dream job but it never felt right to you. You just shrugged before turning the topic to books and different book recommendations, watching his eyes light up at the mention of literature.

“You should read Le Petit Prince,” you said as you both stood outside on the chilly November night. You had talked about different works by Shakespeare and had only started heading outside once Linda told you that it was ten. It was snowing slightly and Robin looked breathtaking with the white snow in his dark hair, his red mask creating a sharp contrast against the fairness of his skin.

“Only if you read it to me,” he said before grappling to the top of the veterinarian's office near the diner. You slowly walked to your car and turned it on. Robin was still sitting on the top of the building and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you waved goodbye to him before heading home, rolling your eyes with a smile when you realized that he was following you by running across the roofs of the buildings.

*****

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), your tutor here at the Student Center. And you are?”

“Jason Todd,” the boy said, nodding at you as he pulled out his chair and sat down. You smiled at him and wrote his name down on the form you were given. You asked him basic questions about his grade, what class the assignment he wanted to go over was from, and what his reason was for visiting the center.

“All right, so it looks like Mr. Mijia wanted you to come in here and just have someone review your essay for you. Is he doing the extra credit padding before final exams again?”

Jason nodded his head and you marked the according box.

“Alright, the first thing I’m going to have you do is pull up an electronic copy and pass the hard copy to me. Then we’ll have you read it aloud so we can catch any grammatical errors.”

Jason nodded again before clearing his throat and reading his paper off of his screen, stumbling over the wording of his essay only twice. You were impressed, his style of writing was advanced, with him connecting his ideas throughout the whole essay.

“As time progresses, it is imperative to look--”

“Hey bestie,” you sighed when you heard the grating voice of Elsie Lager. You gave Jason an apologetic look before forcing a smile on your face as you faced Elsie.

“Hi Els, what are you doing here,” you asked, taking note of the way her eyes flitted over Jason, before landing on you.

“I’m just here to give you these,” she said, holding out a thick manilla folder. “Mrs. Jones said that we have to read through all of these proposals for the Spring Fling and Jackson and I thought that you could do it since you are the president. And because your mom is the famous torchbearer in today’s fashion world. It’ll just be soooo easy for you.”

You resisted the urge to smack Elsie with the manilla folder, aware of the fact that if you did that there was a witness, and instead took it from her hands before flipping through it. Great, there were over fifty concepts and designs to choose from. Taking out your planner, you wrote down ‘choose Spring Fling concept’ between your Taekwondo lesson and your animal fashion show at the shelter.

“I have that down, anything else I can do for you Elsie,” you asked with a strained smile. The brunette stood there, twisting a piece of hair around her pointer finger before smacking her forehead.

“OMG, I totally forgot! Callisto Barsotti told me that you should keep your ears open for an invite to one of his parties. I’ve gotta go now but you just have to tell me how you got Callisto to notice you, you lucky bitch.”

You watched as Elsie left the library, blowing a kiss towards you, in a blur of white. Sighing, you turned back around to Jason.

“I’m so sorry about the interruption. Why don’t you continue reading from where you were interrupted.”

“She’s a bitch,” Jason said. Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as he leaned towards you, resting his face on his hand. “Why are you friends with people that take advantage of you like that?”

You sucked in your breath, keeping your face impassive as you stared down at him.

“You have no idea what my life is like Jason Todd,” you said evenly, setting the manilla folder to the side. “And because you don’t know me, why don’t we talk about something we do have some knowledge about: your essay.”

Jason just sighed before he started packing his items up, tugging the hard copy of his essay out from under your hands.

“You and I both know that I don’t need help with my essay. But if you ever need help, let me know,” and with a familiar wave, he left you sitting in the library, confused about how you had gotten his attention when you both weren’t even in the same grade.

*****

You scanned the room as you tugged your jacket around you. You normally didn’t attend parties, especially those that you knew involved alcohol, but your mother had pushed you to go after being nagged by Elsie’s mother by her daughter’s lack of invitation. And speaking of Elsie, she had left you alone as soon as she had entered the house. Which sucked since she had insisted on driving in her new Mercedes.

As you walked around the living room, making small talk with the people who greeted you, you couldn’t help but think about what Jason Todd had told you. It frustrated you that he took up so much space in your head, that he was all that you could think of since that day in the library.

He didn’t know anything about your life. While he had grown up on the streets, you had grown up with a silver spoon in your mouth, never having to worry about anything.

‘But you do worry,’ the small voice in your head said, sounding very similar to Robin. You needed a drink.

You were searching the coolers for a bottle of water when a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders causing you to flinch and elbow them in the stomach.

“Ow, what was that for,” the person asked, slurring their words slightly. You looked up and sighed when you saw it was the host of the party, Callisto Barsotti. He smiled at you and rubbed at his stomach before holding his arms out, “I’ll let you go if you give me a hug,” he said, enunciating his words with grabby motions.

Normally, you would be on your best behavior, helping whoever was drunk by getting them water and calling their friends, but you were pissed. You didn’t want to be at this party, instead, your mother had forced you to go after Mrs. Lager had bitched to your mom about her precious Elsie not being invited. And to make matters worse, you were tired. So tired.

You were tired of your mother, for filling up your schedule with things you had no interest in, such as modeling gigs and piano lessons. Your father for never being there. Elsie for complaining to her mom and Callisto for inviting you to his stupid party. Jason Todd for being in your head for over a month. Robin for not reaching out in weeks. But mostly at yourself. You were upset at yourself for quietly taking all of this and then loading yourself up with more so you could be the perfect doll for your mother to brag about raising.

So when Callisto tried to grab you and hug you, you kneed him in the groin before deciding to walk home. Ignoring his cries and the looks you got from others at the party, you ran out of the house, only pausing to take a breath once you exited the gated property. You didn’t know where you wanted to go so you let your legs decide on what direction to walk.

Walking around anywhere in the middle of the night was not a great idea. But walking around Gotham in the middle of the night was one of the worst ideas anyone could have. Looking back at it, your night could have gotten worse, like you being kidnapped by a c-grade villain or something.

Instead, you ended up running into Robin. He didn’t look surprised to see you and instead gave you a small smile.

“So, do you wanna go to the diner,” he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No,” you snapped, “Leave me the fuck alone birdbrain.” You pushed past him, a look of surprise etched on his face.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

You ignored his calls and instead sped up, aware of the fact that he was catching up to you. At this point, you were walking near the actual city parts of Gotham so maybe you could get a cab to drop you off at your mother’s apartment near the business sector.

At that thought, you broke into a run, sprinting down the street before calling a cab, hyper-aware of the fact that Robin was staring at you with a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

*****

You felt bad for how you treated Robin. He didn’t deserve your cold shoulder and you certainly didn’t deserve him. With his witty jokes and the way he always followed you to make sure you got home alright, you had realized yesterday in the cab, watching the red and yellow of his costume jump by on the roof, that you didn’t deserve him.

You threw yourself back into your different activities and soon, you didn’t even have enough time to even think about what you were going to eat for dinner.

As you exited the school building, you walked slowly towards your car, being careful not to slip on the ice on the ground as you rounded the corner.

But you felt someone grab your wrist, making you scream and fall. The person cursed as they tried to pull you up but you slid as far away as you could from them so you could see their face. It was Callisto Barsotti.

“What the fuck,” you yelled, trying to yank your wrist out of his iron-like grip. When that didn’t work you got ready to elbow him but he twisted your other arm behind you, causing you to scream.

“Not today you bastard,” he growled as he started to drag you. You screamed and tugged against him, and when he turned towards you, you stopped pulling against him and stomped on his foot, making sure to drag your snow boots against the skin on his shin.

Callisto let out a cry of pain and you pushed him away from you, letting yourself fall to the ground out of shock.

“You little gremlin,” Callisto stuttered out as he started limping towards you. You panicked as you tried to find something heavy to hit him with. A rock or anything would do. But you couldn’t find anything so you got up on trembling legs to run towards your car.

But you didn’t have to worry as a figure in red and yellow dropped by and wacked Callisto in the back of the head. Your eyes widened as Robin took this moment to start kicking the fallen boy. You don’t know how long you stared at him, but you snapped out of your daze once you started hearing cracking noises.

“Stop! Robin, please stop,” you cried desperately. But he didn’t stop, he continued to beat Callisto.

“Please stop,” you cried, whimpering as you knelt down near Robin. When he didn’t listen to you again, you leaned forward and grabbed his face, turning it towards you. You were going to tell him to stop again but you then felt a warm sensation, different from the coldness from the March air, followed by the feeling of a shock. Your soulmate, Robin was your soulmate.

He stared at you in shock, allowing you to pull him off of Callisto. You pushed him towards your car, and he stumbled since he was still staring at you as a look of understanding passed on his face.

“Look,” you said, inspecting the blood on Robin’s costume, “you need to listen to what I’m going to say carefully. Go to my car and grab the cleaning wipes from the trunk. Clean yourself off as I call the cops. The story is going to be that you were patrolling the area and heard my screams.”

Robin stared at you, mouth slightly open as he reached to touch you with a bare hand. You let his fingers ghost against your skin, the shock from before still present as you pulled back to stare at him.

“Go.”

*****

It's been over five hours since Robin beat Callisto. Not half to death like you had expected but still pretty bad since he had a broken nose, arm, and bruised ribs. As you waited in the police station for your parents to pick you up (“The gang that you described could always come back for you,” the officer had said), you could only think about how scary it was, watching Robin hit someone so many times with so much anger in him. In the end, your parents didn’t come and instead, your older brother had driven all the way from Metropolis to pick you up.

You both didn’t talk to each other during the ride back to your house but you could tell he was worried by the way his eyes would flicker to you. When you reached the gates to your house, your brother had parked the car and turned to look at you.

‘(Y/N), I have no idea what's going on with you right now but if you ever feel overwhelmed or alone, just tell me and I’ll take you with me back to Gran’s in Metropolis.”

You smiled at him, eyes tired but filled with a small spark as you exited his car, making sure to express your thanks with a kiss on his cheek. As you entered your house, you took off your shoes and slipped on your home slippers before going to your room and taking a shower. Drying your hair, you walked towards your windows to close your curtains, letting out a slight scream when you saw a hand pressed against the glass.

You sighed when you saw it was Robin and opened your window, letting him come inside to your room. He looked around your room, studying the many medals and certificates you had accumulated from the years along with the magazines you had in your room, before turning towards you.

“Hey,” you said, walking to him slowly. Robin licked his lips slightly as he stared at you before coughing.

“Can I please touch you,” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. You nodded and watched as he took off his right glove before caressing your cheek with his hand. You watched as he smiled when he felt the same spark from before, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he took off his left glove so he could hold you with both hands. You shivered as his thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, eyes closing before snapping open when you couldn’t feel the warmth from Robin’s hands.

“Don’t freak out,” he whispered in your ear, “I’m just going to close the window and then dry your hair for you. Just go and sit down and I’ll be right there.”

You nodded and sat down at the chair in front of your vanity, watching as he closed your window and pulled the curtains before grabbing your towel. You smiled as you watched him in the mirror, massaging your head with your hands before wrapping your towel around your scalp.

“How come you never asked me what my name was,” Robin asked as he brushed through your hair.

“You’ll tell me when the time is right.”

*****

“I should’ve asked him what his name was,” you thought as you walked near an alley, waiting for a sign of Batman so you could ask him what happened to your soulmate.

A couple of months had passed since you had last seen Robin in April. He had looked angry when you both had met up at the diner and he had further worried you when he ignored the ringing of his phone. As soon as he had seen that you were tucked into bed, he had given you a peck on the forehead before leaving through your window.

You were worried for him. Dressing up as a traffic light every night was dangerous, no matter how much you loved going out there and beating up criminals. So you had been following Batman for months, trying to find a moment to ask him what happened to your soulmate. But you never had the opportunity since he always managed to lose you by either disappearing or by just leading you into a dead end.

Months of following Batman has helped you as you were now familiar with the rooftops of Gotham, like the roof of the veterinarian’s office near the diner you and Robin used to meet up at. Sitting with binoculars, you let out a small gasp when you saw a familiar flash of red and yellow, watching as it ran across a rooftop. Scrambling, you started following the figure, zigzagging around multiple large gaps that you couldn’t jump before cursing when you realized that he was gone.

“Why are you following me,” an unfamiliar voice asked behind you. You turned around and assessed the boy, taking note of the fact that he was taller than your Robin and didn’t seem to have the same half-smile-half-smirk that he did. But the only way to confirm, for your brain to tell your heart to stop searching would be direct contact.

“I can’t find someone,” you started, voice shaky as your eyes filled with tears. The boy’s mouth twisted in a slight frown but he still let you continue.

“I just need to check that you’re not my Robin. Please, let me just hold your hand briefly or something. I just need to know.”

At this point, you were crying. When he hadn’t returned the next day, you had started to panic, wondering if he had really left you and gone somewhere else. But that night, you had started out of your bed, wondering what had woken you up when you felt a hollowness inside of you.

The boy patted your shoulder sympathetically before offering his hand to you. Sniffling, you pulled his glove down slightly so his wrist was showing and touched it.

There were no sparks, no warmth, as you collapsed on the rooftop and cried.

Your Robin was no more.

*****

You smiled as you entered the diner, waving at Linda before taking the booth that you and Robin used to eat at. Six years had passed since you had learned that he was no more and even though it was hard most of the time, you always moved forward. You had graduated high school and gone forward to become a librarian, your choice mostly influenced by your late soulmate.

As you waited for Linda to bring out your regular order, you looked around the diner, recognizing everyone except for a man wearing a red sweatshirt. He was staring down at his phone but was now looking up at you when he felt your stare. You flushed slightly and gave him a wave before looking out of the window.

When Linda came out with your packed regular, you left after giving her a large tip. You had to go back to work.

*****

When Jason came back to life, he knew something was wrong.

After finding out that you were his soulmate, he felt this familiar warmth inside of him, similar to the feeling from when Bruce had first made him Robin. But after the pit, that feeling was multiplied tenfold, to the point that it felt like he was being burned from the inside out. And then the random sparks started.

The first time was when he was with Talia. It had been months since she had started training him, helping him remember a bit of who he was beforehand. When she grabbed his wrist, he felt a spark. It wasn’t the same familiar, welcomed spark with you but it was still a spark. He had brushed it off as static electricity, especially since Talia didn’t seem to have noticed.

But the sparks continued. He felt it frequently when people would hold him, touch him, brush against him. It was an annoyance at that point. A reminder that something was wrong with him, especially since he knew that you were his soulmate and that the others seemed to have not noticed the sparks.

So when Jason saw you walking home one night, he couldn’t help but follow you to make sure you got back safe, just like in the old days. Except for the fact that it’s not like the old days and he was malfunctioning. He was too scared to meet you; he was terrified of the idea that he might touch you and that there would be no spark anymore.

Jason had decided to only follow you home and keep you safe from the shadows, to never interact with you directly. So why exactly was he bleeding on your couch?

He watched as you helped him out of his leather jacket, eyes following your movements to the best of his abilities. He then watched as you pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting the area he was shot.

Your eyebrows were furrowed and Jason couldn’t help but want to reach out and smooth them. Instead, he settled for helping you by peeling the square of his cut shirt away as you prepared the gauze to apply pressure.

His head was spinning and his breathing sounded labored even to his own ears but Jason didn’t want to take off his helmet in fear that you would recognize him from the red domino. But you seemed to have other plans as you reached your hands towards his head, still applying pressure to his wound with your knee.

He tried to avoid your hands but it was difficult to do when his head started to spin. He just watched as your hands reached out towards his helmet and opened it.

A small, selfish part of him wanted you to pull off the helmet and accept him, regardless of whether or not the spark was still there. But from the two years that he had known you, he knew that you’d accept him as Robin, but he wasn’t sure that you’d accept him as Red Hood.

Jason watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his red domino but you didn’t go as far as to peel it off. Instead, you turned your attention back to his wound, gathering more gauze to apply pressure.

As he lost consciousness, he watched as your concerned face entered his vision. And then he felt the fated spark, and all he could think about was how right it felt.

*****

When Jason woke up, he was surprised. By multiple things. For one, you hadn’t called the cops on him. The second thing being the fact that he was, in fact, fine and not dead: he had checked by pinching himself. The third was that his domino was still on his face. And the last being that he could hear your voice clearly, it was distinct, like music against his ears.

He listened as you spoke, not understanding what you were saying but knowing that you were reading Le Petit Prince. After all, one of the first things he did after coming back from the pit was listening to the audiobook, imagining what you would sound like.

He heard the page flip and decided that now would be a good time to open his eyes and sit up.

His sudden movement startled you. You both stared at each other before Jason croaked out a ‘hi’. He watched as your eyes filled with tears as you hugged Jason gently like he was the most delicate, expensive thing in the world.

“I missed you (Y/N),” Jason whispered against your shoulder, feeling the tears form in his eyes as he pulled back.

Your eyes flitted down to his wound with a concerned look but he tilted your head up, towards his face as he pulled the domino off.

He saw a look of recognition in your eyes, knowing for sure that they recognized him when you whispered ‘Jason Todd.’

He nodded, watching as you slowly extended your hands towards his face, caressing it as you skimmed your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I’m a terrible person,” Jason whispered, looking down into his lap. You simply lifted his face, shaking your head.

“You’re not a terrible person Jason. You were a hero back when you were Robin and you’re a hero as the Red Hood. You’ve always been one. Now lie back down before you pull your stitches and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Jason smiled as he laid his head across your lap, smiling as the sparks now seemed to dance across his skin in joy, happy that he was finally home.

[kayteewritessteve]

It’s nice to be important, but it’s important to be nice.

Alright, I think it’s time that I put this out there. I wasn’t planning on having any more to do with this shit storm, but I think this needs to be voiced now, more than ever. I’d like to point out, this is my generalized views on this shit, and it is not to attack or shade anyone in this fandom. This is how I have felt on this shit for years, between two different fandoms and finally I feel like I need to put it into words. Side with me or not, this is my set views on this issue, and I will not sit here and argue or fight online with anyone over them. This is how I see it, and nothing anyone says will change this. So don’t even waste your breath.

To start off, to all my lovely readers, I just want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I sometimes feel like I’m in my own little bubble in this fandom. Like whenever I see other writers having issues with readers not interacting, I feel bad for them, but then I look at the comments on my fics and I can’t really relate to them on that front.

I normally steer clear of the reader feedback issues, because I genuinely feel it does not pertain to me, personally. I have so many lovely readers, who leave me lovely comments and feedback, and those few of you who do, are all I truly need to keep me happy.

But, with that said, I also am someone who sees both sides of the coin. I’m someone who cherishes the readers who just like and reblog, cherishes the ones who just like and comment, and cherish every other interaction in between.

I will never personally demand comments from you all, I will never say ‘fuck your social anxieties, you will comment or else!’ Because how does that help? I deal with social anxiety myself, I know how crippling it can be. I have been that person reading other peoples fics silently and in the background. I have had moments where I’m afraid to even like a fic, because then I feel like I must reblog or I’ll be labelled a shit person. I have been there, so many damn times.

I may not appear as someone with social anxieties at first, but they are there, hiding under the overly bubbly personality I also have. I turn the volume up on my friendly side for this blog, just to hide the true anxious person that I am.

So I get it. God do I get it.

Tumblr is scary, it can be overwhelming, and loud, and nerve-wracking. And when issues like this happen, it can be an even scarier place. And I think demanding feedback, and getting super angry about this all, is not helping matters. It’s scaring more people away.

I think us as writers, need to remember that we may not feel intimidating, we may just completely forget that to others, we are bigger blogs, we are the people they look up to, the people they want to be like. And I’m not saying this as an ego trip, I look up to other bigger blogs myself. I idolize some bigger blogs and hope I can even be blessed enough to get halfway to where they are, some day. But the point I’m trying to make here, is that sometimes we forget that someone else may be nervous to reach out, to comment, to interact with us, because they themselves feel like a small blog. Like a nuisance, like they are annoying us, like we will think they are weird. And I only use those exact words, because I have had my readers reach out and tell me that’s how they normally feel in interactions with other writers. How those writers have made them feel.

So I think we need to all (writers included) be a little nicer to each other. Yelling, bitching, chastising heavily, will not fix these issues, it will probably make them worse. If I’m being honest.

And us as writers need to give back just a little more to our readers—I know, I know! Some of y’all are about to go in on me, saying how dare I say we give MORE back after all our hours of writing. But, hear me out first.

When I first started this blog, barely anyone commented on my fics. So what did I do? I started commenting and thanking the people who just reblogged. As people started to comment a little more, I made sure to leave just as in-depth replies as they did, when people started reblogging essay’s on my fics, I replied in kind. I laugh, I cry, and I stomp with my readers. I don’t just write, post it then walk away and expect everyone to sing my praises. I don’t ever demand feedback or love.

I take the few lovely people who give me that feedback and love, and I return it once again. And you know what? Because I do, I have so many lovely readers returning, to give me feedback once again! I have people reaching out to thank me for actually replying to them, I have people stepping out of their comfort zones to read AU’s they never liked before, solely because I wrote them.

And shit. That’s the highest of damn praises, man. Like I can never thank the few of you who love my stories so much. I can never thank the few of you who have been with me from the start, I can never thank those of you who stumbled upon me recently and never wanted to leave again. You all, every single one of you, are the reason I still write today. You are the reason I’m still here.

But I have BUILT these relationships. I have nurtured them, and helped them grow. I have taken the time to really see my readers, to appreciate them. To give back exactly what I get. And yes, it’s time consuming, and yes, sometimes it takes me a few days to finally reply to them, but the point is, I find the time to reply.

I can’t tell you how many times I have seen someone leave such a lovely long winded reblog comment on a fic, and they literally get ‘thanks for reading!’ in reply. Like. Damn. That hurts meeeee, and I wasn’t even the commenter. But I think I can only feel that hurt, because I have been the reader that pours my soul into my comment, and then doesn’t even get a thank you. Not even a reply at all. And that shit sucks, and it can really deter me from ever commenting like that on that persons fics again. Like why waste the time, if they aren’t even reading your comment? And yeah, maybe they are, and in this case, even just a ‘thanks’ would be better than nothing. But most of the time, a thanks doesn’t even come.

Now look, I get that we all have lives, I get that we all have things that are more important to take up our time. Trust me, I do. But I think you can’t really sit here and complain about a lack of reader interaction, when you yourself aren’t doing everything you can to encourage them to interact. To show them that they can reach out and comment, and you will love them for it. They will be your hero for it.

I think if you just come in here, thinking you’re above everyone else, and demanding praise for this, you are going to be in for a rude awakening when you don’t get what you think you are owed. What you believe you deserve, solely because you write.

I personally believe that my job is not finished just because I posted my fic. I personally believe my job is never finished on a story, so long as people are commenting and reblogging. I give them a story to read, they give me love and feedback, and then I give them that in return as my thank you for reading. And ya know what? It’s worked out well for me. I’m happy with all of my readers, I cherish them, and I feel blessed for every single one of them.

This is a hobby for me, it’s not a job, I love interacting with my readers. And I think when this hobby starts to feel like work, and I don’t want to interact anymore, then I will walk away. If I ever stop getting the joy out of it, then I’ll stop. Simple as that, and you know why? Because I was the one who decided to share my writing with others. I am the one who built a following around them. I am the one who choose to put myself in this place. So how the hell am I supposed to sit here and demand people to praise me, when I was the one who took the necessary steps to put myself in this exact spot. I was the one who opened my stories up for people to actually read.

So yeah, maybe I don’t see it the same way the rest of you do. Maybe I’m naive, or silly, or ignorant, but this is how I see it. And I’m sorry if you don’t, I’m sorry if you feel you deserve a certain level of interaction and you just aren’t getting that. Because at the end of the day, I want everyone who writes to truly enjoy it and to get the love they deserve.

But we have to lower our standards a bit, we have to realize that we may not get exactly the praise we want, but we still get praise. And in any form, that’s such a glorious thing. When we all first started out, getting 3 comments was HUGE for us. Getting even one persons feedback was like life changing! So why is that not the case anymore? Why is that not enough now? Because we have thousands of followers now, instead of a hundred? That’s utter bullshit.

Praise is praise, take it or leave it, but don’t bash it. Don’t discredit it. And don’t act like it isn’t there. Because it is, just maybe not in the full extent you are wanting. But it’s still there.

TL:DR - please be nicer to people, and understand not all of us are extroverts. Some of us suffer from social anxieties, and that needs to be realized and remembered. Show love. Spread love. Stop bashing each other and just write because YOU want to, and not because you want all the damn praise.

[patricia-von-arundel]

Till Min Älskling

Anyone remember this one? I guess it’s right at four years old, since I wrote it for TDOE back in 2014. 

Till Min Älskling,

It is less than a day since our marriage was finally made complete, the consummation of our love. Even as I write this - “working,” ostensibly, at the desk in the quarters we now share - I just caught you glancing my way, saw your soft smile and hooded eyes, the flush across your cheeks, and I know you are thinking of it, too. The best part, though, is that you look happy.

If I could bring that light, that joy, to your face every moment of every day for the rest of your life, it still would not be as much as you deserve. But I swear to you this, my darling Elsa; I will spend the rest of my life doing all that I can to give you that happiness. If I have a purpose in this world, it is that.

And it is a purpose I thought would be forever unfulfilled. Do you know when I first felt a spark for you, a tiny flame carefully kindled and carried across so many miles and so many years?

Alas, the day and time are lost to me, fallen victim to faulty memory and failing attempts to deny those same feelings. They frightened me, Elsa - oh, how they frightened me! You know well what a coward I am.

And yet, you have accepted my love regardless. You are everything I know I will never be. You are everything of which I will never be worthy. And for so many years, a part of me has known how much I love you.

For a very long time, i tried to deny that part of myself, to convince myself that it was merely a result of your philosophical presence in my life long before your physical one. I knew you for so long through the words of your father; surely, I thought, this is the natural extension of seeing what has always been a product of the imagination unexpectedly made flesh! And truly, it took me by surprise, on our first introduction so many years ago, to actually meet someone who had heretofore only existed on paper. I’m sure your first impressions of me were far from favorable, considering I was behaving like a puppy, overeager to please but as yet not particularly well-versed in etiquette. You have spoken of wishing you had taken more time to get to know me - I lay no blame on you, considering the circumstances and my behavior.

But it was sometime then that the spark was kindled - the realization that not only were you so much more than words on a page, but also that you were the most remarkable person that I had ever met, would ever meet. And despite my best efforts, that spark only grew.

Did I truly believe I might ever see that love reciprocated? I hoped - but I did not truly believe, no. Too many times, I set myself on a path I knew was doomed to fail, and at some point, I finally learned my lesson. But hope - yes, there was always hope.

I might have forgotten the moment when I realized I was in love with you, but I shall never, as long as I live, forget the day I knew it was reciprocated. I will never forget how beautiful you looked, the way the light reflected in your eyes, the way your hands felt when I took them in mine. I will never forget you in my arms - how right and wonderful, at that moment, the whole world seemed to be. I will never forget any moment we have had together since - not if I can prevent it. A true narrative began then in my life - new meaning, new purpose. I do not know where our story ends, but I know the journey through it will be a magical, beautiful one. 

Elsa - my darling Elsa - know always: you were the answer to all of my questions. 

I love you.

- Alarik

Til Alarik, Min Elskede Mann

So many things I once thought were impossible, because of me, because of who - or what - I am. Angry mobs screaming “monster” were never necessary to see one in the mirror. I knew. From a very young age, I knew, but I did not understand. I didn’t want to understand.

I just wanted to be anyone but who I was. Even as at the same time, I believed I deserved it - to be a pariah. An outcast.

I hurt, again and again, the person I loved more than anyone else in the world. I deserved every torment life could offer me.

I lived with that truth for so very long.

There are many people to whom I might owe an apology, but only two I felt deserved an explanation: Anna, and you.

But as I have discovered time and again, through all the years of my life: I lack talent in the spoken word; I stutter and stammer; I lose the path of my thoughts, and fail to backtrack to the start.

Anna is patient, but she has her limits, and I fear I will never adequately express for her all that weighs on my fractured conscience. Perhaps, if I find the self-fortitude to deliver this letter, rather than casting it into the fire, I will try to write to her, as well.

(Speaking of fires - I’m still getting used to trying to sleep, once more, in a room made so suffocatingly warm by one. I trust you appreciate the sacrifices I make for you!)

From a young age, I knew that my future held not only the running of a kingdom, but also, in all probability, a marriage made for diplomatic reasons. It was the case with my own parents, it would be the case for Anna, and it would be the case for me, no matter the fairy stories that spoke of love and romance: such things existed for me no more than a poisoned spinning wheel and cottages of gingerbread.

Then, of course, I realized the darker truth: no negotiations would be made for my hand. No family would risk their child on marriage to a monstrosity. I would be spared the possibility of a loveless union, but equally, I could never anticipate a loving one. I could only hope Anna was not assumed to carry the same taint in her blood; she wanted so badly to believe in the possibilities of romance. Selfish thing that I am, I couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible for yet another of my sister’s disappointments.

But I found out later, much later, that it was me, not Anna, for whom my parents were attempted to negotiate a betrothal at the time they were lost. I didn’t have the faintest inkling - but when I found out, all I could think of was what Anna would have thought, finding I had taken something else from her. With a history of such thoughts, I still marvel that I was surprised when she showed up on the arm of the first eligible royal she happened to meet. It seemed the beginning of the end. I could never have imagined it heralded the start of wonder as well as terror.

The young woman I was then - I doubt very much you would have seen anything but a cipher, a half-clever ruse. You have always seen so deep within me. It is one of the traits, to my own surprise, that I have come to like best in you. I enjoy being seen as who I truly am, at least as far as your biased gaze observes me. My role and my strange abilities so often create facade that is view enough for most.

But I digress. My point: I never anticipated, initially, an opportunity to marry for love; later, I never anticipated an opportunity to marry at all. Perhaps as a result, when the responsibility became mine, I reacted rather poorly to Anna’s first attempt at betrothal. Hindsight may have shown this to be for the best, but it was, honestly, due solely to panic on my part. In some way, I have always seen Anna as my sole chance at redemption. Her marrying for love, then, not diplomacy, was more important to me than was perhaps politically expedient. I will credit myself with one thing: doing everything necessary to allow her to marry Kristoff, when that proved to be her wish, and to assure that her children might be legitimate heirs to my throne.

I believed, then, that I had done my part, as far as such things went. My sister in a happy marriage to a wonderful man like Kristoff, and Neta the healthy child of their union. My feelings for you, despite their gentle, gradual growth, came as quite the shock when I finally forced myself to acknowledge them.

What am I trying to say here? I wish I knew for sure. Perhaps I’m no better, in the end, with written word than with spoken. I can’t think of anything I’ve attempted to write aside from my schoolwork and official correspondence - and it is possible I would better grasp my own intentions with the familiar format of an essay or diplomatic missive.

Or I could build you something from ice?

(Actually, I have strong suspicion you might like that very much!)

I have rambled on long enough, I think, with no obvious conclusion in sight. I was hoping that writing this might ease my mind - should you receive it (or merely stumble across it) at some distant point, I should say that I am writing it in the midst of another half-miracle: I believe marriage unlikely, marriage for love almost outside the realm of possibility. But carrying a child?

I would have harshly, unequivocally dismissed the very notion.

I am frightened, Alarik. As frightened as I have perhaps ever been - and fear is, for me, an old friend. I know that you, and scholarly authorities, maintain my powers hold no threat for the quickening life I carry - but my heart returns always to my tiny sister, so still and cold in my arms.

And yet, the same arms ache to hold the child that grows within me, the very physical manifestation of the unwarranted love you have gifted upon me. Your faith in my ability to navigate these uncharted waters gives me such strength - such hope. Your trust in me is the greatest gift I will ever receive.

So many paths that I believed closed to me, you have helped me find my way down. With you as a light in the darkness, I conquer the unknown.

Jeg elsker deg.

- Elsa

Till Min Älskling,

I write this as you speak low, soft words of encouragement to the infant at your breast, both of you entirely absorbed in one another. “Johanna,” I have learned from your sister, means “gift from God” - she informed me it is related to “Joan.” I meant to ask you about the relevance of the last, actually; I know Johanna is your grandmother’s name, but I have not come across a Joan in the annals of Arendelle. Perhaps this will jog my memory later.

I have learned quickly that I prefer not to interrupt your interactions with Jenny: few things in life give me as much pleasure as watching you with her. In three months, it seems to have become wondrous second nature for you, mothering our child. I should finally admit, through this safe medium of paper and ink: As you feared pregnancy and birth, I feared you would refuse to allow yourself to love the baby once she arrived. Rarely have I been so pleased to be proven wrong! You have taken to it, to her, so naturally. I can hear your arguments to the contrary, my darling, were I to voice these thoughts. “I’m just doing what I saw Anna do,” or, “I’ve read a lot of books, I’m just following directions.”

But it is not that simple, and you know that as well as I, whether you are inclined to admit it or not. Not everything can be learned by extension: many things, you must just do, and discover in perseveration any talent or natural affinity. As Anna could attest - she can watch how beautifully you can skate across ice, but it does not ever seem to improve her own performance! Some things, you can either do well, or you cannot. And you, darling, care for Jenny so, so well.

She fascinates me, you know. I have not often since my own childhood spent much time around children, and even less around infants. There is the added, selfish bonus here - the infant in question is made up for half of you and half of me, and somehow, that makes her more fascinating still. I seem somehow almost hardwired to see with amazement every change in her, every new development or act of self-discovery. (Though I will admit, it will take a lot to displace my most cherished memory: our shared mirth at Jenny’s obvious delight upon first discovering her hands!)

But watching you and her together: that is one of the greatest gifts that life has given me. I watch you when she wakes crying, the way you soothe and murmur, the soft song to ease her back to sleep, cuddles and smiles and gentle touch if she calms, and the way she stares up at you, you who are the center of her entire world. What a wonderful, loving world it is, too!

I thought, for a very long time, that I could not love you more, that I knew your bravery and your strength and your intelligence, and that left me so enamored that no matter what happened, I thought it could not be more than it was. How wrong I realized I was, the moment I first was able to place our newborn daughter in your arms!

I truly believed I would never have children of my own. For a very long, as you know, my life held the possibility of ever-present threat, and risking a child to that would have been the height of selfishness. By the time all that was dealt with, of course, I was well past the typical age by which one would be expected to marry. And truly, by then, I knew - I could love no other as I love you. And I believed wholly that my own cowardice had destroyed any affection you might otherwise have felt for me.

Wonderful woman that you are, though, you would never deny someone a second chance, just as you believe so many gave to you. (Anna, I suspect, would disagree that you ever had need of them!) And you gave me mine - and so much more, more than my wildest dreams might have imagined. Including the daughter I can see even now warm and well-fed in your arms, fighting sleep, those slow, heavy blinks that mean the inevitable will have her soon.

I know that you, too, believed you would never have children of you own, though for different reasons. I do remember when you told me, so many years ago, that Anna felt it her duty to provide the kingdom with an heir, because you believed yourself incapable of carrying a child. I had my doubts, even then, but of course I had no place in your life to say that - more cowardice.

But I have always believe din you, Elsa - in your strength, your power, your intelligence. You are a wonderful mother - but you are, always will be, so many other things. So much more.

I love you, darling.

-Alarik

[suzanneshannon]

Chapter 1: Birth

Tim Berners-Lee is fascinated with information. It has been his life’s work. For over four decades, he has sought to understand how it is mapped and stored and transmitted. How it passes from person to person. How the seeds of information become the roots of dramatic change. It is so fundamental to the work that he has done that when he wrote the proposal for what would eventually become the World Wide Web, he called it “Information Management, a Proposal.”

Information is the web’s core function. A series of bytes stream across the world and at the end of it is knowledge. The mechanism for this transfer — what we know as the web — was created by the intersection of two things. The first is the Internet, the technology that makes it all possible. The second is hypertext, the concept that grounds its use. They were brought together by Tim Berners-Lee. And when he was done he did something truly spectacular. He gave it away to everyone to use for free.

When Berners-Lee submitted “Information Management, a Proposal” to his superiors, they returned it with a comment on the top that read simply:

Vague, but exciting…

The web wasn’t a sure thing. Without the hindsight of today it looked far too simple to be effective. In other words, it was a hard sell. Berners-Lee was proficient at many things, but he was never a great salesman. He loved his idea for the web. But he had to convince everybody else to love it too.

Tim Berners-Lee has a mind that races. He has been known — based on interviews and public appearances — to jump from one idea to the next. He is almost always several steps ahead of what he is saying, which is often quite profound. Until recently, he only gave a rare interview here and there, and masked his greatest achievements with humility and a wry British wit.

What is immediately apparent is that Tim Berners-Lee is curious. Curious about everything. It has led him to explore some truly revolutionary ideas before they became truly revolutionary. But it also means that his focus is typically split. It makes it hard for him to hold on to things in his memory. “I’m certainly terrible at names and faces,” he once said in an interview. His original fascination with the elements for the web came from a very personal need to organize his own thoughts and connect them together, disparate and unconnected as they are. It is not at all unusual that when he reached for a metaphor for that organization, he came up with a web.

As a young boy, his curiosity was encouraged. His parents, Conway Berners-Lee and Mary Lee Woods, were mathematicians. They worked on the Ferranti Mark I, the world’s first commercially available computer, in the 1950s. They fondly speak of Berners-Lee as a child, taking things apart, experimenting with amateur engineering projects. There was nothing that he didn’t seek to understand further. Electronics — and computers specifically — were particularly enchanting.

Berners-Lee sometimes tells the story of a conversation he had with his with father as a young boy about the limitations of computers making associations between information that was not intrinsically linked. “The idea stayed with me that computers could be much more powerful,” Berners-Lee recalls, “if they could be programmed to link otherwise unconnected information. In an extreme view, the world can been seen as only connections.” He didn’t know it yet, but Berners-Lee had stumbled upon the idea of hypertext at a very early age. It would be several years before he would come back to it.

History is filled with attempts to organize knowledge. An oft-cited example is the Library of Alexandria, a fabled library of Ancient Greece that was thought to have had tens of thousands of meticulously organized texts.

Photo via

At the turn of the century, Paul Otlet tried something similar in Belgium. His project was called the Répertoire Bibliographique Universel (Universal Bibliography). Otlet and a team of researchers created a library of over 15 million index cards, each with a discrete and small piece of information in topics ranging from science to geography. Otlet devised a sophisticated numbering system that allowed him to link one index card to another. He fielded requests from researchers around the world via mail or telegram, and Otlet’s researchers could follow a trail of linked index cards to find an answer. Once properly linked, information becomes infinitely more useful.

A sudden surge of scientific research in the wake of World War II prompted Vanneaver Bush to propose another idea. In his groundbreaking essay in The Atlantic in 1945 entitled “As We May Think,” Bush imagined a mechanical library called a Memex. Like Otlet’s Universal Bibliography, the Memex stored bits of information. But instead of index cards, everything was stored on compact microfilm. Through the process of what he called “associative indexing,” users of the Memex could follow trails of related information through an intricate web of links.

The list of attempts goes on. But it was Ted Neslon who finally gave the concept a name in 1968, two decades after Bush’s article in The Atlantic. He called it hypertext.

Hypertext is, essentially, linked text. Nelson observed that in the real world, we often give meaning to the connections between concepts; it helps us grasp their importance and remember them for later. The proximity of a Post-It to your computer, the orientation of ingredients in your refrigerator, the order of books on your bookshelf. Invisible though they may seem, each of these signifiers hold meaning, whether consciously or subconsciously, and they are only fully realized when taking a step back. Hypertext was a way to bring those same kinds of meaningful connections to the digital world.

Nelson’s primary contribution to hypertext is a number of influential theories and a decades-long project still in progress known as Xanadu. Much like the web, Xanadau uses the power of a network to create a global system of links and pages. However, Xanadu puts a far greater emphasis on the ability to trace text to its original author for monetization and attribution purposes. This distinction, known as transculsion, has been a near impossible technological problem to solve.

Nelson’s interest in hypertext stems from the same issue with memory and recall as Berners-Lee. He refers to it is as his hummingbird mind. Nelson finds it hard to hold on to associations he creates in the real world. Hypertext offers a way for him to map associations digitally, so that he can call on them later. Berners-Lee and Nelson met for the first time a couple of years after the web was invented. They exchanged ideas and philosophies, and Berners-Lee was able to thank Nelson for his influential thinking. At the end of the meeting, Berners-Lee asked if he could take a picture. Nelson, in turn, asked for a short video recording. Each was commemorating the moment they knew they would eventually forget. And each turned to technology for a solution.

By the mid-80s, on the wave of innovation in personal computing, there were several hypertext applications out in the wild. The hypertext community — a dedicated group of software engineers that believed in the promise of hypertext – created programs for researchers, academics, and even off-the-shelf personal computers. Every research lab worth their weight in salt had a hypertext project. Together they built entirely new paradigms into their software, processes and concepts that feel wonderfully familiar today but were completely outside the realm of possibilities just a few years earlier.

At Brown University, the very place where Ted Nelson was studying when he coined the term hypertext, Norman Meyrowitz, Nancy Garrett, and Karen Catlin were the first to breathe life into the hyperlink, which was introduced in their program Intermedia. At Symbolics, Janet Walker was toying with the idea of saving links for later, a kind of speed dial for the digital world – something she was calling a bookmark. At the University of Maryland, Ben Schneiderman sought to compile and link the world’s largest source of information with his Interactive Encyclopedia System.

Dame Wendy Hall, at the University of Southhampton, sought to extend the life of the link further in her own program, Microcosm. Each link made by the user was stored in a linkbase, a database apart from the main text specifically designed to store metadata about connections. In Microcosm, links could never die, never rot away. If their connection was severed they could point elsewhere since links weren’t directly tied to text. You could even write a bit of text alongside links, expanding a bit on why the link was important, or add to a document separate layers of links, one, for instance, a tailored set of carefully curated references for experts on a given topic, the other a more laid back set of links for the casual audience.

There were mailing lists and conferences and an entire community that was small, friendly, fiercely competitive and locked in an arms race to find the next big thing. It was impossible not to get swept up in the fervor. Hypertext enabled a new way to store actual, tangible knowledge; with every innovation the digital world became more intricate and expansive and all-encompassing.

Then came the heavy hitters. Under a shroud of mystery, researchers and programmers at the legendary Xerox PARC were building NoteCards. Apple caught wind of the idea and found it so compelling that they shipped their own hypertext application called Hypercard, bundled right into the Mac operating system. If you were a late Apple II user, you likely have fond memories of Hypercard, an interface that allowed you to create a card, and quickly link it to another. Cards could be anything, a recipe maybe, or the prototype of a latest project. And, one by one, you could link those cards up, visually and with no friction, until you had a digital reflection of your ideas.

Towards the end of the 80s, it was clear that hypertext had a bright future. In just a few short years, the software had advanced in leaps and bounds.

After a brief stint studying physics at The Queen’s College, Oxford, Tim Berners-Lee returned to his first love: computers. He eventually found a short-term, six-month contract at the particle physics lab Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Nucléaire (European Council for Nuclear Research), or simply, CERN.

CERN is responsible for a long line of particle physics breakthroughs. Most recently, they built the Large Hadron Collider, which led to the confirmation of the Higgs Boson particle, a.k.a. the “God particle.”

CERN doesn’t operate like most research labs. Its internal staff makes up only a small percentage of the people that use the lab. Any research team from around the world can come and use the CERN facilities, provided that they are able to prove their research fits within the stated goals of the institution. A majority of CERN occupants are from these research teams. CERN is a dynamic, sprawling campus of researchers, ferrying from location to location on bicycles or mine-carts, working on the secrets of the universe. Each team is expected to bring their own equipment and expertise. That includes computers.

Berners-Lee was hired to assist with software on an earlier version of the particle accelerator called the Proton Synchrotron. When he arrived, he was blown away by the amount of pure, unfiltered information that flowed through CERN. It was nearly impossible to keep track of it all and equally impossible to find what you were looking for. Berners-Lee wanted to capture that information and organize it.

His mind flashed back to that conversation with his father all those years ago. What if it were possible to create a computer program that allowed you to make random associations between bits of information? What if you could, in other words, link one thing to another? He began working on a software project on the side for himself. Years later, that would be the same way he built the web. He called this project ENQUIRE, named for a Victorian handbook he had read as a child.

Using a simple prompt, ENQUIRE users could create a block of info, something like Otlet’s index cards all those years ago. And just like the Universal Bibliography, ENQUIRE allowed you to link one block to another. Tools were bundled in to make it easier to zoom back and see the connections between the links. For Berners-Lee this filled a simple need: it replaced the part of his memory that made it impossible for him to remember names and faces with a digital tool.

Compared to the software being actively developed at the University of Southampton or at Xerox or Apple, ENQUIRE was unsophisticated. It lacked a visual interface, and its format was rudimentary. A program like Hypercard supported rich-media and advanced two-way connections. But ENQUIRE was only Berners-Lee���s first experiment with hypertext. He would drop the project when his contract was up at CERN.

Berners-Lee would go and work for himself for several years before returning to CERN. By the time he came back, there would be something much more interesting for him to experiment with. Just around the corner was the Internet.

Packet switching is the single most important invention in the history of the Internet. It is how messages are transmitted over a globally decentralized network. It was discovered almost simultaneously in the late-60s by two different computer scientists, Donald Davies and Paul Baran. Both were interested in the way in which it made networks resilient.

Traditional telecommunications at the time were managed by what is known as circuit switching. With circuit switching, a direct connection is open between the sender and receiver, and the message is sent in its entirety between the two. That connection needs to be persistent and each channel can only carry a single message at a time. That line stays open for the duration of a message and everything is run through a centralized switch. 

If you’re searching for an example of circuit switching, you don’t have to look far. That’s how telephones work (or used to, at least). If you’ve ever seen an old film (or even a TV show like Mad Men) where an operator pulls a plug out of a wall and plugs it back in to connect a telephone call, that’s circuit switching (though that was all eventually automated). Circuit switching works because everything is sent over the wire all at once and through a centralized switch. That’s what the operators are connecting.

Packet switching works differently. Messages are divided into smaller bits, or packets, and sent over the wire a little at a time. They can be sent in any order because each packet has just enough information to know where in the order it belongs. Packets are sent through until the message is complete, and then re-assembled on the other side. There are a few advantages to a packet-switched network. Multiple messages can be sent at the same time over the same connection, split up into little packets. And crucially, the network doesn’t need centralization. Each node in the network can pass around packets to any other node without a central routing system. This made it ideal in a situation that requires extreme adaptability, like in the fallout of an atomic war, Paul Baran’s original reason for devising the concept.

When Davies began shopping around his idea for packet switching to the telecommunications industry, he was shown the door. “I went along to Siemens once and talked to them, and they actually used the words, they accused me of technical — they were really saying that I was being impertinent by suggesting anything like packet switching. I can’t remember the exact words, but it amounted to that, that I was challenging the whole of their authority.” Traditional telephone companies were not at all interested in packet switching. But ARPA was.

ARPA, later known as DARPA, was a research agency embedded in the United States Department of Defense. It was created in the throes of the Cold War — a reaction to the launch of the Sputnik satellite by Russia — but without a core focus. (It was created at the same time as NASA, so launching things into space was already taken.) To adapt to their situation, ARPA recruited research teams from colleges around the country. They acted as a coordinator and mediator between several active university research projects with a military focus.

ARPA’s organization had one surprising and crucial side effect. It was comprised mostly of professors and graduate students who were working at its partner universities. The general attitude was that as long as you could prove some sort of modest relation to a military application, you could pitch your project for funding. As a result, ARPA was filled with lots of ambitious and free-thinking individuals working inside of a buttoned-up government agency, with little oversight, coming up with the craziest and most world-changing ideas they could. “We expected that a professional crew would show up eventually to take over the problems we were dealing with,” recalls Bob Kahn, an ARPA programmer critical to the invention of the Internet. The “professionals” never showed up.

One of those professors was Leonard Kleinrock at UCLA. He was involved in the first stages of ARPANET, the network that would eventually become the Internet. His job was to help implement the most controversial part of the project, the still theoretical concept known as packet switching, which enabled a decentralized and efficient design for the ARPANET network. It is likely that the Internet would not have taken shape without it. Once packet switching was implemented, everything came together quickly. By the early 1980s, it was simply called the Internet. By the end of the 1980s, the Internet went commercial and global, including a node at CERN.

Once packet switching was implemented, everything came together quickly. By the early 1980s, it was simply called the Internet.

The first applications of the Internet are still in use today. FTP, used for transferring files over the network, was one of the first things built. Email is another one. It had been around for a couple of decades on a closed system already. When the Internet began to spread, email became networked and infinitely more useful.

Other projects were aimed at making the Internet more accessible. They had names like Archie, Gopher, and WAIS, and have largely been forgotten. They were united by a common goal of bringing some order to the chaos of a decentralized system. WAIS and Archie did so by indexing the documents put on the Internet to make them searchable and findable by users. Gopher did so with a structured, hierarchical system. 

Kleinrock was there when the first message was ever sent over the Internet. He was supervising that part of the project, and even then, he knew what a revolutionary moment it was. However, he is quick to note that not everybody shared that feeling in the beginning. He recalls the sentiment held by the titans of the telecommunications industry like the Bell Telephone Company. “They said, ‘Little boy, go away,’ so we went away.” Most felt that the project would go nowhere, nothing more than a technological fad.

In other words, no one was paying much attention to what was going on and no one saw the Internet as much of a threat. So when that group of professors and graduate students tried to convince their higher-ups to let the whole thing be free — to let anyone implement the protocols of the Internet without a need for licenses or license fees — they didn’t get much pushback. The Internet slipped into public use and only the true technocratic dreamers of the late 20th century could have predicted what would happen next.

Berners-Lee returned to CERN in a fellowship position in 1984. It was four years after he had left. A lot had changed. CERN had developed their own network, known as CERNET, but by 1989, they arrived and hooked up to the new, internationally standard Internet. “In 1989, I thought,” he recalls, “look, it would be so much easier if everybody asking me questions all the time could just read my database, and it would be so much nicer if I could find out what these guys are doing by just jumping into a similar database of information for them.” Put another way, he wanted to share his own homepage, and get a link to everyone else’s.

What he needed was a way for researchers to share these “databases” without having to think much about how it all works. His way in with management was operating systems. CERN’s research teams all bring their own equipment, including computers, and there’s no way to guarantee they’re all running the same OS. Interoperability between operating systems is a difficult problem by design — generally speaking — the goal of an OS is to lock you in. Among its many other uses, a globally networked hypertext system like the web was a wonderful way for researchers to share notes between computers using different operating systems.

However, Berners-Lee had a bit of trouble explaining his idea. He’s never exactly been concise. By 1989, when he wrote “Information Management, a Proposal,” Berners-Lee already had worldwide ambitions. The document is thousands of words, filled with diagrams and charts. It jumps energetically from one idea to the next without fully explaining what’s just been said. Much of what would eventually become the web was included in the document, but it was just too big of an idea. It was met with a lukewarm response — that “Vague, but exciting” comment scrawled across the top.

A year later, in May of 1990, at the encouragement of his boss Mike Sendall (the author of that comment), Beners-Lee circulated the proposal again. This time it was enough to buy him a bit of time internally to work on it. He got lucky. Sendall understood his ambition and aptitude. He wouldn’t always get that kind of chance. The web needed to be marketed internally as an invaluable tool. CERN needed to need it. Taking complex ideas and boiling them down to their most salient, marketable points, however, was not Berners-Lee’s strength. For that, he was going to need a partner. He found one in Robert Cailliau.

Cailliau was a CERN veteran. By 1989, he’d worked there as a programmer for over 15 years. He’d embedded himself in the company culture, proving a useful resource helping teams organize their informational toolset and knowledge-sharing systems. He had helped several teams at CERN do exactly the kind of thing Berners-Lee was proposing, though at a smaller scale.

Temperamentally, Cailliau was about as different from Berners-Lee as you could get. He was hyper-organized and fastidious. He knew how to sell things internally, and he had made plenty of political inroads at CERN. What he shared with Berners-Lee was an almost insatiable curiosity. During his time as a nurse in the Belgian military, he got fidgety. “When there was slack at work, rather than sit in the infirmary twiddling my thumbs, I went and got myself some time on the computer there.” He ended up as a programmer in the military, working on war games and computerized models. He couldn’t help but look for the next big thing.

In the late 80s, Cailliau had a strong interest in hypertext. He was taking a look at Apple’s Hypercard as a potential internal documentation system at CERN when he caught wind of Berners-Lee’s proposal. He immediately recognized its potential.

Working alongside Berners-Lee, Cailliau pieced together a new proposal. Something more concise, more understandable, and more marketable. While Berners-Lee began putting together the technologies that would ultimately become the web, Cailliau began trying to sell the idea to interested parties inside of CERN.

The web, in all of its modern uses and ubiquity can be difficult to define as just one thing — we have the web on our refrigerators now. In the beginning, however, the web was made up of only a few essential features.

There was the web server, a computer wired to the Internet that can transmit documents and media (webpages) to other computers. Webpages are served via HTTP, a protocol designed by Berners-Lee in the earliest iterations of the web. HTTP is a layer on top of the Internet, and was designed to make things as simple, and resilient, as possible. HTTP is so simple that it forgets a request as soon as it has made it. It has no memory of the webpages its served in the past. The only thing HTTP is concerned with is the request it’s currently making. That makes it magnificently easy to use.

These webpages are sent to browsers, the software that you’re using to read this article. Browsers can read documents handed to them by server because they understand HTML, another early invention of Tim Berners-Lee. HTML is a markup language, it allows programmers to give meaning to their documents so that they can be understood. The “H” in HTML stands for Hypertext. Like HTTP, HTML — all of the building blocks programmers can use to structure a document — wasn’t all that complex, especially when compared to other hypertext applications at the time. HTML comes from a long line of other, similar markup languages, but Berners-Lee expanded it to include the link, in the form of an anchor tag. The <a> tag is the most important piece of HTML because it serves the web’s greatest function: to link together information.

The hyperlink was made possible by the Universal Resource Identifier (URI) later renamed to the Uniform Resource Indicator after the IETF found the word “universal” a bit too substantial. But for Berners-Lee, that was exactly the point. “Its universality is essential: the fact that a hypertext link can point to anything, be it personal, local or global, be it draft or highly polished,” he wrote in his personal history of the web. Of all the original technologies that made up the web, Berners-Lee — and several others — have noted that the URL was the most important.

By Christmas of 1990, Tim Berners-Lee had all of that built. A full prototype of the web was ready to go.

Cailliau, meanwhile, had had a bit of success trying to sell the idea to his bosses. He had hoped that his revised proposal would give him a team and some time. Instead he got six months and a single staff member, intern Nicola Pellow. Pellow was new to CERN, on placement for her mathematics degree. But her work on the Line Mode Browser, which enabled people from around the world using any operating system to browse the web, proved a crucial element in the web’s early success. Berners-Lee’s work, combined with the Line Mode Browser, became the web’s first set of tools. It was ready to show to the world.

When the team at CERN submitted a paper on the World Wide Web to the San Antonio Hypertext Conference in 1991, it was soundly rejected. They went anyway, and set up a table with a computer to demo it to conference attendees. One attendee remarked:

They have chutzpah calling that the World Wide Web!

The highlight of the web is that it was not at all sophisticated. Its use of hypertext was elementary, allowing for only simplistic text based links. And without two-way links, pretty much a given in hypertext applications, links could go dead at any minute. There was no linkbase, or sophisticated metadata assigned to links. There was just the anchor tag. The protocols that ran on top of the Internet were similarly basic. HTTP only allowed for a handful of actions, and alternatives like Gopher or WAIS offered far more options for advanced connections through the Internet network.

It was hard to explain, difficult to demo, and had overly lofty ambition. It was created by a man who didn’t have much interest in marketing his ideas. Even the name was somewhat absurd. “WWW” is one of only a handful of acronyms that actually takes longer to say than the full “World Wide Web.”

We know how this story ends. The web won. It’s used by billions of people and runs through everything we do. It is among the most remarkable technological achievements of the 20th century.

It had a few advantages, of course. It was instantly global and widely accessible thanks to the Internet. And the URL — and its uniqueness — is one of the more clever concepts to come from networked computing.

But if you want to truly understand why the web succeeded we have to come back to information. One of Berners-Lee’s deepest held beliefs is that information is incredibly powerful, and that it deserves to be free. He believed that the Web could deliver on that promise. For it to do that, the web would need to spread.

Berners-Lee looked to his successors for inspiration: the Internet. The Internet succeeded, in part, because they gave it away to everyone. After considering several licensing options, he lobbied CERN to release the web unlicensed to the general public. CERN, an organization far more interested in particle physics breakthroughs than hypertext, agreed. In 1993, the web officially entered the public domain.

And that was the turning point. They didn’t know it then, but that was the moment the web succeeded. When Berners-Lee was able to make globally available information truly free.

In an interview some years ago, Berners-Lee recalled how it was that the web came to be.

I had the idea for it. I defined how it would work. But it was actually created by people.

That may sound like humility from one of the world’s great thinkers — and it is that a little — but it is also the truth. The web was Berners-Lee’s gift to the world. He gave it to us, and we made it what it was. He and his team fought hard at CERN to make that happen.

Berners-Lee knew that with the resources available to him he would never be able to spread the web sufficiently outside of the hallways of CERN. Instead, he packaged up all the code that was needed to build a browser into a library called libwww and posted it to a Usenet group. That was enough for some people to get interested in browsers. But before browsers would be useful, you needed something to browse.

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[itstimetodrew]

All the Reasons Why I Like Drew

The Big Essay

To truly celebrate this Drew Day, I’d like to talk about why I like Drew and what he means to me. This whole blog is kind of dedicated to that idea, but it’s not all stated outright, and definitely not all in one post. So…. here’s the granddaddy of them all. Happy reading! :D

How I found The One

So, the matter-of-fact portion: How did I get into Pokémon? When did I decide I liked Drew as a character? It was mostly on accident. I remember I was 10 and getting over my big interest in the Tokyo Mew Mew/Mew Mew Power series. I always had some sort of Big Interest, and it was boring to be without one (it had been Yugioh before and original Pokémon before that, funny how all my favorite things came back). Since I had dropped early Pokémon for Yugioh, I didn’t care for Pokémon. It was old news, not that great, not worth going back to. But then one morning before school I went through the TV channels and stumbled upon an airing of Pokémon. All the characters except Ash and Brock and Team Rocket were foreign to me…and who was that green haired guy? I thought he was cute and needed a rebound anime crush.

By 10 years old I had started using the internet a lot, and so I found out about this new series of Pokémon, and that what I saw on TV was part of the Hoenn Grand Festival, which included that interesting Drew character. Then I found out about what a fandom was, fanfiction, AMVs, fanart, everything. It was hard not to get sucked into a fan base that had so much content and excitement surrounding it! I really doubt 10-year-old me would have imagined liking the same characters at age 21, but here I am! So, the next question…

Why Drew? (Let’s do bullet points for convenience.)

-        He’s smart and resourceful! He’s sharp enough to see through Team Rocket and Harley’s plans more than a couple times. His appeals and battle techniques can also be pretty neat…mostly. Sometimes it’s just a Petal Dance and he gets a perfect score for it pfft but stuff like that Dragonbreath + Razor Wind combo? Neato.

-        The snark…I love the snark. I like that Drew brings some comedy to the show and says what I sometimes think as the viewer (The infamous scene...

May: What’s extremespeed, Brock? 

Brock: It’s when a Pokemon uses its speed to the extreme! 

Drew, appearing from offscreen because he never misses a chance to make fun: Only an amateur would ask a question like that, May. 

(like honestly girl what did you think it meant))

-        Drew is helpful! He’s obviously a challenge and barrier to May, but he doesn’t want to see her fail. Drew helps to get May, Ash, Brock, and Max out of 4 situations with Team Rocket, and his eagerness to do what’s right is cutely summed up in his first appearance 

“No clue what’s goin’ on, but happy to assist!” 

He’s a gem and has a good heart.

-        He’s so talented! This boy is a winner plain and simple. …Ok most of the time. …Some of the time. It just isn’t onscreen. You know, it’s the attitude that counts. But really!! He got to the final round of his first contest? That he got the final round of his first Grand Festival (I assume)?? He’s a STAR. A prodigy.

-        He has realistic flaws: doesn’t like spontaneity, doesn’t display emotion well, not the best with some social interaction, stubborn, secretive etc. He is definitely not a perfect character, which makes him that much more likable.

-        Drew’s motivation and dedication inspire me. He’s so passionate and focused about what he does, and he’s worked hard to get where he is. It’s difficult for me to not want to see him succeed!

-        He’s polite and respectful! Drew isn’t a jerk to everyone, he just likes riling up May sometimes, and even then, he knows when to knock it off and be a friend. Also, when he’s uncomfortable around over-excited fans, he thanks them for their support and tries to make a quick but smooth exit. He could just as easily be mean or look down on people who think of him so highly, but he doesn’t take anyone’s praise for granted.

-        That aforementioned awkwardness around fans? Absolute plus. The irony of Drew pursuing a path that’s filled with glamor and style but being weird about personal compliments is adorable, 10/10. (But it does highlight how he loves contests for the sport itself, not for fame or vanity!)

-        He means everything he says. Drew never once apologizes for his outbursts, which can be a problem and highlights a stubbornness in not wanting to admit he was wrong. But I think it also shows how Drew is careful in what he says and has little regret about his opinions, despite how they come across.

-        Drew is mature! It’s fun seeing him become more mature over the course of the series. At first he’s a typical brat and instigates conflict with May to an obnoxious degree, but by the end we see him and May having nice heart-to-hearts about losing and how to regain motivation to try again. Amazing.

-        His bond with his Pokémon. Drew is tough and not overly affectionate with them, but it’s those little hints of friendship that make it all the better. Especially him and Roselia. They’re my lifeblood. That he keeps Roselia out of its Pokeball to see fireworks? To sunbathe? Adorable. Look at them....

And knowing Roselia was Drew’s only Pokémon for the first few contests we see him, it makes his sadness over Roselia getting hurt that much more important. His small conflict and resolution with Absol is great, too. I kind of think May and Drew’s differing opinion during the Kanto Grand Festival is the same theme that goes on to compose a large part of Ash and Paul’s rivalry. That idea of what a ‘proper’ way to train is to get results. I’m getting sidetracked and wrote about this before but anyway!! They’re all great, the whole team is great. And I can’t believe Drew’s Roserade is making lovely teas for the whole region of Alola.

-        And of course……. he’s so cute. You know this point had to come in somewhere. But look at him! 

Those bright, sharp eyes. Those lovely lashes. That smirk and – if you can catch a rare glimpse – genuine soft smile. His hair, that signature hair flip he does when he wants to seem Really Cool, his controlled mannerisms, his clothes that are way too warm for Hoenn and I don’t know why he wears them but he obviously doesn’t care---- everything!!! He’s so cute and cool and lovely and 

I Adore Him.

He’s a bit of an idol of mine at this point. Some sort of ideal self. Which sounds weird since he’s a 10-year-old secondary anime character who hasn’t been seen onscreen in like 8 years, but whatever. I admire Drew’s drive to succeed, how he helps others, respects their feelings, and doesn’t change just to impress other people. I wish I could be as unconcerned with other people and follow my own path the way he does.

But his flaws are good to reflect on, too! His strict means of training make him inflexible, and I think his lacking ability to adapt is what holds him back a bit. It’s nice to know what you’re good at it, but if you focus only on your strengths, weaknesses become that much more obvious, and new opportunities for growth may be missed! I relate to this a lot because I’m afraid of doing new things because I’m so uncomfortable at appearing unskilled. But there’s no way to improve at something if you never attempt it!

His line about there always being someone better out there than you sticks with me, as well. I think Drew takes a different take on his own advice (“I guess there’s always someone better”) between the two grand festivals we see him in. In Hoenn, Drew uses the idea of someone always being better as a consolidation as to why he lost to Robert, he doesn’t seem too upset about it because I think it was more about the person he was facing. Robert is older, presumably more experienced, so it’s fine and understandable to lose to him. 

But when he’s faced with the prospect of May having a good shot at beating him, he’s agitated and nervous. Scared. Because May wasn’t just a ‘someone’ that could be better than him. He had seen her as a novice, and so the idea of losing to this kluzty beginner girl wasn’t acceptable. When Drew has time to sit and think about why he’s so upset, with Ash and Brock giving him some thoughts, I think Drew realizes that if he comes out of the competition stronger and more experienced than when he went in, having won or not, that is more valuable than focusing on being better than specific competitors. That’s what rivalry is. The end goal of a rivalry shouldn’t be to definitively be the winner in the relationship, but to keep challenging each other to become more skilled. You hope your rivals and friends help you improve, and you want to see them experience that same growth as well.

Pursuing any goal in hopes of being the best will get discouraging fast because there really is someone better than you, eventually, if not now. The most reliable thing is to just keep improving yourself. Hope that your past self would be in awe of what you can do now, and know that you still have a lot of growth and accomplishment ahead of you.

The reason I love Drew so much, and why this essay is so ridiculously long, is probably because I’ve locked myself into a bit of an echo chamber, honestly. Since I watch episodes with Drew most often and reflect on him a lot, he’s become extremely important and fascinating to me. I realize he’s a standard character from an objective view: the love interest and classy, arrogant rival…but after a full decade he’s developed a whole life of his own in my mind. Making headcanons and backstories and predictions for the future is so much fun! I know I build him up to be a lot more than he is in the series (I mean I usually get disappointed at the lack of depth he has when I go back to watch episodes) and it seems silly but…I’m okay with that silliness at this point. I kind of have to be after a solid decade lol

After all, I only picked up art again after wanting to bring fanart ideas to life when seeing a challenge for drawing favorite characters. Is that a laughable reason? Yeah! But do I enjoy art and I’m glad I decided to try again? Definitely!

And I thought AMVs with Drew on YouTube were so neat that I decided I wanted to make my own. So, I tried video editing, and I liked it! I still do video work and may incorporate it into a career. A career – from wanting to put clips of Drew and May to cool music. It’s so bizarre, but I’m glad that started me on this path!

Last year I also decided to finally get serious about learning Japanese which unsurprisingly, probably wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t so interested in the Pokémon anime and my doujinshis with you know……. Drew. Learning a new language is rewarding in itself because I think it’s so neat to develop the ability to communicate with an entirely new group of people. To share ideas and culture and conversation…it’s amazing! Speaking of which – the people.

I’ve met so many people because of my love for Drew. Quite literally all of you reading this. Otherwise my YouTube account wouldn’t have existed, this blog wouldn’t, the videos, the shitposts, the fanart, all the cards and packages sent to one another, the hilarious, thoughtful, bizarre, uplifting text messages, every interaction and friendship online…none of them would have happened. Not that I don’t have bonds built on things other than Pokémon (it’s hard to believe, but some people have no clue how much I like Pokémon, much less Drew lol), but it seems like a butterfly effect. Since I’ve loved him for literally half of my life and I’ve gone through my teenage and now early adult years with this Thing for him, I don’t even know how much of my own personality and experience living as myself would be different. It’s wild and weird. My time in the Pokémon fandom has factored into so much of my life that I can’t possibly imagine what my life in some Drew-less parallel universe is like. Not to say my life would be bad without this fixation, but it’s too much change and I love my life the way it is!

Although this Drew Day is entirely arbitrary and June 12th has no real significance for him as a character, it’s great to get all my thoughts and feelings focused on one date. It all probably sounds ridiculous, all the importance I put on Drew as a character, but I’m aware of that ridiculousness. I thoroughly enjoy it! Drew will likely always be my favorite character in all of media. Perhaps someday I won’t think of him much anymore, but I would have guessed that as a 10-year-old thinking of her 21-year-old self, wouldn’t I?

All I can hope for is that I continue to have a great time with the Pokémon series, and that maybe my love for Drew will end up leading me to new passions and interests even further in my life. I’m so thankful he exists as a character and that I’ve had such a great time discussing him in stories and jokes and art with so many others. So, thank you! Everyone!!

[herotheshiro]

i didn’t know where to post this -- here or on my other blog where i’ve moved my fandom ramblings but i’ve decided to put it here since it kind of touches on more personal topics/feelings. jk i wrote it all out and i didn’t really touch too much on personal stuff so into the fandom blog it goes. also putting it under a read more bc it ended up being pretty damn long wow

recently had a sort of issue/not-issue on twitter where i kind of openly expressed my dislike for this one character. no essay backing up why i dislike them, but i do have my (valid) reasons and i tend to be kind of semi-serious w my hate so i didn’t think too much abt swinging my opinions around. and also since this twitter is a recent development, i’m more used to tumblr where even if you openly express an opinion, you have a ton of character space to utilize to explain your opinion so you tend to explain yourself anyway unlike twitter’s limited character tweets where you basically just express your opinion and that’s it. anyway i might have gotten a little carried away since i don’t really interact w anyone in fandoms anymore and only w my fam member who we enable each others’ opinions and put my opinion on my bio and i think that along w my tweet trail led to potentially being vagued abt by a twitter account that mostly posts abt that fandom. i still have reason to suspect that /i/ wasn’t the sole target of the vagueing (if even) bc they said some stuff abt this character’s negative opinion that apparently someone expressed that /i/ never overtly said (like he’s evil and bad simply bc of how he treats this one person but i never said that, just implied that he’s a general asshole and maybe his relationship w this one person isn’t as good as i’ve seen previously from the fandom which is what i’ve deduced from reading canon content). since they never mentioned names or twitter handles explicitly, i purposely made some tweets (still being open, no censoring on purpose) to try to get a direct response and also low-key targeting the vaguers (out of my paranoia that they were indeed talking abt me which honestly prob not but also it’s a relatively small eng-speaking fandom involved w this character so they have to have stumbled upon me at one point). i did get a response (not from the vaguer(s)) from someone calling me out for not censoring my open dislike of this one character. but i also suspect they knew abt my dislike of this one character stemming from their interactions w another character bc they started talking abt shipping even though i never mentioned a ship in those tweets (but i did mention the latter character though not in conjunction w the former). anyway i felt the familiar heat of embarrassment upon seeing that notif of their callout but i almost immediately felt better abt the entire situation bc i finally got the direct callout i was waiting for and i knew what i needed to take down. direct and clear action

in hindsight after i made a series of vagueing tweets last night lol i feel like this entire situation is just me creating unnecessary drama and wildly hitting even ppl not even involved at all (as noted by the callout which was supposedly having non-involved randos in mind) just to make myself feel better or something which isn’t really respectful in any way (and i was totally open abt me just swinging wildly after the callout and my ensuing taking down of posts. this isn’t even a private twitter where ig it’s apparently socially acceptable to talk abt shit like that). and also makes me think maybe i never really learned anything from being online for almost my entire life. a weird part of me has always wanted to become fandom-famous online but i’ve never succeeded in doing so nor have i made an online group of friends i can bounce my opinions and headcanons off of. so i’ve never really developed an online community, i’ve always just been on the fringes and yelling into the mass without getting much attention. now ik that apparently twitter does indeed chuck your opinions well into that mass (good and bad i suppose), it’s a bit surprising to actually get “attention” ... i also mentioned this in my tweets last night but i really really dislike getting vagued abt which my psychoanalyzing brain was like “that’s bc you don’t like not knowing what others think abt you irl” and yeah if you got an issue w me i’d prefer you to tell it directly to my face rather than pretend you like me (which is totally hypocritical bc i do the latter to others but also i tend to just swerve ppl i dislike so it’s not like i go out of my way to pretend to be nice to them).

idk where i was trying to go w this bc now that i’m writing it out i’m like wow yeah i’m still in the wrong huh. sometimes i am in the wrong like years ago when i got called out for grossly shipping irl ppl (which yes i will admit i did do once upon a time but now i no longer do it or am ok w it) but i don’t feel like i was in the wrong this time so i just feel a little frustrated abt the vagueing bc if i was part of the group they were vagueing abt then i was definitely painted as someone w no critical thinking skills which i do, i just don’t share their opinion which they think is right (and tbh i wonder if THEY have critical thinking skills bc they said some things in defense of their opinion which i don’t agree with esp if you’re interpreting canon content like that. are we even reading the same content). i do genuinely feel better abt the series now bc before i was literally anxiety whenever i thought of or even saw the related characters. my fam member was trying to talk abt the series to me and they weren’t even talking abt the related characters but i just wasn’t feeling it bc of this whole situation which i literally made abt me even though there was no indication whatsoever it was abt me. this all make me think that i really should take a good fucking long break from fandoms and social media bc it just gives me unneeded stress and anxiety abt cancel culture, trying to be likeable enough to become fandom-famous, seeing hot takes, etc etc. i’ve already been winding down in terms of strongly interacting w fandoms but my mental health has not been doing so hot recently bc of irl things and fandoms are not ameliorating it at all. ik for some fandoms do indeed make ppl feel better but that’s when ppl actually interact w them and they’re not stuck in a bubble of no response whatsoever while ppl may potentially gab abt them outside of that bubble. my issue is that i always feel the need to create when i really get into a fandom and when you create you want ppl to respond to your creations! so you need to interact w the fandom. but then i then want to actually interact w the fandom fr instead of just posting from time to time and staying out of it and you know where that gets me sometimes. i think it’s bc i had a good time in the pjo and warriors fandoms and i want something like that again in new fandoms i’m in but for whatever reason that’s not how it is now.

i didn’t jump into the vagueing tweet mess bc as i said i wasn’t directly called out and also better to just ignore it but i couldn’t get it out of my head. and that’s making me really consider leaving fandom social media and just create fanworks solely for myself without even posting them online. my works don’t really get much response anyway which is fine tbh even having 1 like these days is good enough so it’s not like i’d be losing out. but idk man ... sometimes you just want to share stuff w others. maybe i should just make my own website and put stuff on there w no expectation for likes or whatever. this has also made me re-evaluate whether or not i really do want to go into art professionally. ik this one situation is inevitable w putting your opinion out on the internet and i wasn’t even in the wrong i feel bc it’s not like i have a problematic opinion (racism, sexism, incest, etc) but it has put a damper on creating content to put online even if the content i eventually want to create is original and is in no way associated w fandoms. even as i write that out i realize it’s kind of stupid to have such a damper put on me. i should watch spiderverse again bc that was the film that really inspired me to create my own creative visual content again and also i’ve been feeling really uninspired lately. ik i shouldn’t let this kind of stuff get me down if i really want to create art in the future but it’s hard to deal w sometimes. honestly i really should be seeing a therapist but also wow now it’s delving into more personal territory so i’ll end it here.

tl;dr i need to learn how to chill on the internet and i think i need to create boundaries for fandoms fr and stick w those boundaries for the benefit of my mental health. maybe i shouldn’t have gotten a twitter in the first place lol even if all i made it for originally was just so i could message a proxy on twitter and not to actually get involved in fandom twitter. i didn’t even get the proxied good in the end anyway bc i was forced to cancel the payment by a third party bc the proxy had not sent me the good in months despite them updating relatively regularly on how busy they were as a student. hah that just how it be

also side note i was like to myself “ok you need to chill bc these series’ characters aren’t real. there’s no need to get so worked up over them” but then i realized even that opinion is “problematic” bc there are ppl out there who really use the characters as like idk a therapy object and i’m genuinely not trying to be an asshole i just forgot the specific wording you use. so even if i’m like ‘they’re fake’ there are others who are like ‘no they make me feel better so don’t hate !!’ which idk is a mentality which i think ppl should shift away from bc you can’t be in fandoms forever unless you’re a professional fictional content creator which is also an opinion i think a good number of ppl would disagree w (“they’re not bothering anyone and it’s their life so what are you to say what they should do??”). idk this is my hot take for the day i guess but it’s fine to be a fan of stuff as you grow up but i think it should become less of a focus/active part in your life as you grow older. i mean maybe that’s a cynical way of seeing things bc maybe creating fanwork is a good de-stressor for ppl but i think i feel that way bc i’m not going into creative content professionally career-wise but ... idk what i’m trying to say here. i guess i just have complicated thoughts on fandoms in general.

[citruscisco]

Proposal

     So a little back story on this, I’m taking an Honors English class and we have 5 essays due this up coming Monday. I just finished my last one, and it’s a narrative. The prompt was that I was supposed to create a scene with a creative proposal or something. Little does she know it’s secretly fanfiction about Ben Hardy, but I just changed his last name. Also  speaking of the female character in the story (I know I didn’t speak of her before), I kinda pictured her as having Charlie Bradbury’s personality, but a bit more confident and flirtatious. Anyways, enjoy! Also I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote this from 10 AM to 4 PM, I think!

     “Here, let me help you,” a deep voice chimed in from the doorway of the bedroom. The freckled, hazel-eyed girl spun around at the sound of his voice and smiled shyly. She fiddled with the golden locket in between her pale, slim fingers that held a picture of them both. The blond had been watching in amusement as she struggled to put on the necklace – which he had given to her – and finally decided to speak up. The girl nodded slightly and turned back to face the mirror, holding the necklace in one hand and using the other to hold her flaming locks of auburn hair. The blonde walked up behind her and grasped onto the locket from her much smaller hands, gently grasped it from her fingers and began clasping it on.

     It had only been 6 years since Ben Johansson had met Serenity Geist, one of those years had been spent as staying friends, while the rest had been spent in a loving relationship. Ben had the opportunity to move to the states from his hometown in London at the ripe age of 22, both for a better education and more job opportunities. He had been working at a Barns and Nobles that was a block away from his university the day he had met her, and Serenity just so happened to be a visitor at the books shop. The two of them can remember that day oh-so clearly.

     November 19th, 2014. Ben has been sitting at the front seat that chilly morning. He wore his usual white T-shirt with a red and black checkered flannel. His feet were propped up on chair across from him as he watched a movie on his phone. Ben want much of a reader himself, which is quite ironic considering where he works. He held his head up in his left hand, which was propped up on the table. It had been a quiet morning, thankfully. Ben wasn’t much of a morning person anyways. There were no customers in sight. Just people walking by the front door with their cups of coffee in their hand and a cell phone in the other.  

     His head perked up at the sound of the bell at the front door ringing, meaning a customer is here. At the gust of cold air let in, he suddenly wished he wore better pants than a simple pair of khaki jeans. Ben’s green eyes scanned over the room, looking for the customer. His heart nearly beat straight out of his chest at the girl before him. There in the fiction section of the library stood a girl with wavy auburn hair and pale skin. She wore a simple pair of black leggings and a cream-colored sweater that practically swallowed her small frame. She too wore a pair of Converse that matched his own. Her wide eyes scanned over books of all sizes and colors with a look of curiosity and awe in her eyes. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way, but the sight of her was enough to turn him back into the nervous, scrawny teenage boy he once was. His palm started to sweat, and his heart was beating just a tad bit faster than before.

     He switched off his phone and began to walk over when noticed how she was struggling to reach a book on the very top shelf. He chuckled to himself as he watched in amusement as she jumped up and down while trying to snatch the book off the top shelf. He walked up beside her and reached up for the book, now noticing how his tall, fit frame practically towered over her. ”Here, let me help you,” he spoke softly, not wanting to startle her. She stopped her attempts at reaching the book and smiled wide as he handed her the book. She looked up at him and he could now see that her eyes were hazel, and her face had millions of freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. She looked around his age, possibly a bit younger, but still over 18.

     Serenity Geist was only a year younger when she met Ben. She had just moved into the area a week ago and was still trying to figure out her way around town. On her way to a coffee shop she was suggested to visit by her neighbor, she stumbled upon the famous book shop, Barns and Nobles. Serenity figured it wouldn’t hurt to delay her trip to the café, for maybe she would find a book she liked and could read it as she sipped her coffee. She was quite the book worm after all, as well as a coffee addict. She gently pushed open the door to the book store and her eyes widened at the millions of books that laid right before her very eyes. There were hundreds of shelves filled to the brim with thousands of books of all colors and sizes.  

     Serenity stepped into the shop and it seemed as if her legs moved on their own, taking her straight to the fiction section, for it was her favorite genre to read. She slowly walked along the beginning of the shelf and glanced at each book there, yet she stopped when a certain book caught her eye. It was a thick, green book on the very top shelf that read Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince. Serenity needed to have that book. It was the only book she didn’t have in her Harry Potter collection. Being the stubborn and ambitious person she is, she didn’t bother asking around for help and began to jump up and down all the while trying to snatch the book off of the top shelf. Curse her parents for giving her the short genes.

     Just when Serenity was about to give up and go look around for a stool of some sort, she saw a hand reach up and grasp the book for her. ‘Oh god, I probably looked like an idiot,’ she thought to herself, feeling embarrassment creep up her spine and a blush form its way onto her pale cheeks.

     “Here, let me help you,” a deep, British voice spoke. A voice low as a bassoon, yet sweeter than honey. It was the kind of voice that you would hear on the radio. Serenity looked up and it felt as if her embarrassment worsened. ‘Oh no he’s British and attractive,’ she thought awkwardly. She was never good with talking to people she found attractive. Scratch that, she’s not great with talking to people in general. Maybe it’s from her anxiety, her awkwardness, or she didn’t want to express how much of a geek she truly was. She didn’t want to bore or annoy anyone with her constant rambles of how the books and movies of the Harry Potter series were different, or how she thought Star Wars was better than Star Trek.  

     She grasped the book from him and smiled shyly up at him and tucked a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. “Thanks, uh sorry you had to see that,” she spoke awkwardly, still trying to appear confident. Yeah, that didn’t work. “Unfortunately for me, I got the short genes of the family.” The blond laughed at her comment and shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki jeans.  

     “Well, I can’t and never quite have understood what it’s like to be short, but I can someone relate to your pain. I’m too tall to sit in the back seat of some cars. My legs are too long, and in the end my legs are scrunched up against my chest. You know what I mean?” he asked while scratching the back of his neck, hoping that he chose the right words to say and didn’t seem like an idiot. He was relieved when he heard her angelic laughter, which sent his heart soaring. Not only was she cute physically, but she had an amazing personality – from what he could tell – and an amazing laugh.

     “Yeah, I know what you mean...” She paused, furrowing her eyebrows when she realized she didn’t even know his name. She scanned his upper body, hoping that she would find a name tag of some sort. Serenity’s eyes seemed to roam a tad bit longer, gazing at his nicely built chest. She quickly through those thoughts out the window when she heard him speak. Ben seemed to notice how she paused and the way her eyes scanned his shirt.  

     “Oh! How rude of me! I’m Benjamin, but just call me Ben,” he spoke with a grin and stuck out his hand for her to shake. Serenity grinned up at him and grasped his larger hand with her smaller one.

     “Greetings and salutations, call me Serenity.” She sent him a playful wink – which was totally something she wouldn’t do considering the fact she’s horrible at flirting. His eyebrows furrowed and the corner of his plump lips turned up into a smirk.

     “Was that a Heathers reference?”  

     “You ‘betcha it was!” At that moment when their hands touched, both of their hearts soared high in the sky, and a beautiful friendship had been born. Serenity ended up staying at the book shop until Ben’s shift was over, reading her new book to pass the time. The two then went down to the café Serenity was originally heading to, and the rest was history.

     Ben gently wrapped his strong arms around Serenity’s waist, smiling at the memory of how they first met. She noticed this in the mirror and placed one hand on the locket and the other on top of his arm lovingly. She raised an eye at him through the mirror, “Whatcha thinking about?” she asked while resting her head against his chest. This only made Ben’s smile grow into a grin. He placed a gentle kiss to her temple and tightened his arms around her waist.

     “Just thinking about how beautiful you look.” Of course, that’s not what he was thinking about, but it was no lie that she looked stunning in the dress she wore. She wore a dark red dress that matched her dark red flats. The dress itself was a vintage style dress as well as an A-frame dress, meaning it went out at her hips and gave her an elegant look. The top of the dress was lace around the sleeves as well as around the neck line. The neck line was also off the shoulders, showing off her collarbones and shoulders nicely. The golden locket gave a nice touch to the outfit overall. Ben always loved the outfits she chose. They were always different depending on her mood. Some days she wore sweatpants and a hoodie that was tied together with a messy bun in her hair, for those outfits were for days she felt like she wanted to be lazy. However, times like these called for a beautiful dress and shoes. Times like these are special times, times when she wants to dress up. She wants to feel beautiful, then again, no one wants to feel ugly.

     Ben wore a simple black button up shirt, black dress pants, fancy, black dress shoes, and a light brown jacket. The jacket itself was made of leather and had a viscose lining, a snap tab collar, and a zipper style closure. It also had open hem cuffs and two waist pockets and inside pockets. It was something so simple, yet so attractive on him. Over the years of knowing each other, Serenity had helped him expand his sense of style. When she first met him, she was horrified to find that his drawers were only filled with khakis and flannels.

     “We should probably get going, don’t wanna be late for our reservations. Plus, I'm starving!” Serenity spoke, breaking his train of thought in the process. Ben pulled his arm away and grabbed his keys and wallet, yet Serenity was quick to snatch the keys from him. She insisted on driving, which causes Ben to pout because he desperately wanted to drive the new car he bought. It was brand new and shiny and he wanted to drive around showing off his prized possessions. His car and the love of his life.  

     “Darling you can barely even reach the pedals!” he called out to her as she was already making her way down the stairs.  

     She stopped at the door and turned around to face him, “Of course I am! Besides, if I’m not I can always just grow another leg or two, plop that onto my current leg and boom! I’ll be able to reach the pedal!” His eyebrows furrowed at her words. This isn’t the first time she’s said something this weird. Was she already tipsy?

     “Darling that doesn’t make any sense.”

     “I am under no obligation to make sense to you!” With that, she walked right out to the door and to his car. She still didn’t get to drive.

     It was their 5-year anniversary today, and Ben – like every year – is planning something special. Serenity constantly tells him that just being with him is the best present she could ever ask for, yet he insists on spoiling her. The restaurant this year had been the first restaurant he had taken her to their first date. Nothing too fancy, but nothing too casual. The two sat down across from one another, and a bottle of her favorite wine was brought out without needing to be asked. Serenity raised ab eyebrow at him from across the table.

     “You have something planned, don’t you?” Her tone was playful yet serious. She has always been observant from the day she was born. Surprisingly, Ben was quite calm and let out a small chuckled and smirked while sipping the glass of wine.

     “Only time will tell, my dear.” His words sent a wave of excitement down her spine and caused her heart to beat a bit faster. She said nothing and sipped her wine as well, wondering what he might have planned. Was he planning on taking her somewhere for vacation? She frequently mentioned how she always wanted to explore New Zealand. She’s already visited London to visit his family, so that’s crossed off the list.

     Ben set down his glass and reached down under the table and pulled up a small white box that looked around the size of a picture frame. It had a small red bow resting on top of it as well as a tag with her name on it. Ben sat the box in front of her, but Serenity didn’t touch it. Ben could tell she was eager to rip the box in two and see what laid inside of it. He chuckled and nodded, silently saying she could open it. “Go ahead,” he spoke, feeling himself grow anxious as well.

     Serenity grinned wide and grabbed the box but stopped. Her grin faltered into a pout. “You didn’t have to get me anything, and I didn’t even get you anything,” she pouted, suddenly feeling upset. He laughed and shook his head at her words, reaching across the table and gently grasped her soft hand with his rougher one.  

     “You didn’t need to get me anything. Your love and happiness are the best gifts I could ever ask for. Now open the box, I’m getting impatient!” She rolled her eyes at the last comment he made and did as she was told. The grin was back on her face and was even wider than before – if that was even possible. In the box sat a book. It was a book she never heard of before, but they both knew how much she loved books.  

     “Aw, Ben, you didn’t have to!” She exclaimed, feeling her heart flutter as she pulled the sticky note that sat on the book, which read, “HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!”  

     “You’re right, I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Read it.” She looked up at him then down out the book, but was puzzled to find that the first page, the second, and what seemed to be 100 pages were glued together. It was as if it was a box. She opened the book and her breath hitched as she saw what was inside.  Inside of the book was a highlighted paragraph, a small box carved out of the pages that held a diamond ring with a silver band, and in big, red, bold letters above the box were the words, “MARRY ME?” The paragraph read, “I’m in love with you...I am... I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.” Tears were now streaming down her face. This was paragraph was from her favorite book, The Fault in Our Stars. Ben’s hand reached out and gently grasped the ring from the book.

     “Ignoring everyone in the room is my favorite part of this tradition,” Ben laughed out as he held the rink in one hand while the other one was held out to her. “Take my hand.”

     “Why?” She asked, laughing through the tears of happiness in her eyes.

     “I’m trying to ask you to marry me, to take my dang hand!” He demanded while laughing as well. Their laughter blended together, creating a sweet harmony that made the people around them smile at the couple. “Serenity, when we were friends, I was just kind of hoping that you’d, y’know...fall in love with me.” Tears now started to brim his own eyes. “You don’t know how hard I tried not to fall in love with you, I really did...but I did anyways. It scares me. I think – no – I know I’m in love with you, and that...and that scares me. It scares me to death.” a tear fell down from the corner of his eye as his bottom lip trembled. ‘God I’m being such a crybaby today,’ the thought to himself. “I’m scared to death because I have this irrational fear that someday you’re going to leave me. Whether it be before me due to an illness, or you leave me for another man. I just hope you know that I’ll be with you until the end. I'll be by your side through the 9 months of pregnancy, childbirth, sickness and health, and whatever life throws our way. So...will you marry me?” His voice was shaking with the last three words and his heart bounded as he waited for her response.

     Serenity’s hands were covering her mouth, but they couldn’t hide her sobs throughout Ben’s whole speech. As soon as his speech was over, she screamed an incoherent yes, practically tackled him and slamming her lips against his. The people who had been watching the scene began clapping and cheering for them. What a beautiful scene it was indeed. Ben held her tight as he stood up, practically holding her up off the ground with their lips still attached to one another. He set her down and slipped the ring onto her ring finger on her left hand. Ben reached up and wiped the remaining tears away from her face with his thumb. Serenity grinned at the gesture and reached up to his face and did the same, making him smile softly. “You scream like a girl by the way,” Ben laughed out, wrapping his arms around her waist. Serenity rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her tip-toes to do so.  

     “Okay, first I am a girl for your information, and second I do not scream like a girl,’ she defended.

     “Well you sure did a high-pitched scream.”

     “I did not scream!”

     “Oh yeah, so what did you do?”

     “That was merely me trying not to have a heart attack with a little dignity.” He rolled his eyes at her comment and decided to drop it.

     “So...what’s our plan for tonight?” He asked while they both sat back down. He smiled politely as a thanks while people would walk by and congratulate them on the engagement.

     “We do not have a plan –”

     “Well let’s make one!”

     “– I have my own plans that don’t include you.”

     “Oh yeah, what’s that?” He chuckled out in amusement.  

     “Well, my plan includes me going home, running a bath filled with bubbles and soaking in it as I drink some champagne, and I plan to do this by myself. Alone.” She leaned back in her chair while sipping her wine, glancing over at him with a hint of playfulness in her eyes. He placed his hand on his heart and his mouth dropped open a bit, acting as if he was offended.  

     “I thought we were a team!”

     “We are, which is why I need a break.” He raised his eyebrows at her words.

     “You need a break from me?”

     “Yes...so I’ll still like you in the morning.” Ben held back a laugh while Serenity bit back a smile. They both had progressively leaned forward, so far that their faces were inches from one another.

     “Wow, I’m that bad, huh?” He reached out to cup her chin, resting his thumb on her bottom lip and gently running it over the soft skin. He flickered his gaze from her eyes, down to her lips, then back up to her eyes. Serenity smirks and reaches up to cup his cheek, running her thumb over it.

     “Yep.” With that she presses her lips against his. It felt as if fireworks went off every time they kissed, and it never gets old. You can picture what happens next, but all I can tell you that both Ben Johannsson and Serenity Geist – now Serenity Johannsson – lived happily ever after. I can’t say that there is such a thing as true love, for I don’t believe in it. However, one thing I do believe is that Serenity and Ben were meant to be together

[blaacknoir]

#I also wrote an essay once where I stumbled into realizing a way to relate to Moses as someone raised in an interfaith household#like. he was raised by the Pharaoah! he probably was not brought up perfectly in line with Jewish traditions#and with like a super complete knowledge of his people and culture and religion#like. how often might he have worried about fitting in with other more educated Jews and if he knew enough and did things right and like#then he had to lead everyone??? like! one must imagine a man simply wracked with imposter syndrome#so now I’m like. that’s my buddy Moses.#and exodus and Passover are so foundational to like. my experience of Judaism and my identity. somehow

I’m going to say it. I think Moses is going to win the tanakh sexyman bracket.

It’s all fun and games voting for trees and rocks and background characters, but even aside from the picture chosen, I can’t imagine *not* voting for Moses. I don’t care if he’s a sexyman or not. Like. That’s my guy. It’s him! It’s a silly little tumblr poll and I am not very religious at all but he is the main guy. To me. I’m sure all these other stories are just as important rabbinically speaking and in terms of like creating and protecting the Jewish people. But my dad did not read them to me every year at Passover while we all participated in Rituals™️!

And I have to imagine others feel the same way since he’s cleaning up right now with 75% while everyone else’s polls are closer together.