#My absolute favorite thing!
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egophiliac · 4 months ago
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he did it! 🐍 and it only took...uhhh...well, there probably could've been less punches, but why hold back!
PUNCHES FOR EVERYONE
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#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 part 9 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 part 9 spoilers#snakes#ONE MORE DOWN#oh my god happy jamil was SO scary and yet adorable all at once#i want real jamil to see him and just be utterly disgusted#and yet he got nothing on the return of everyone's favorite twst character: WEIRD RHYTHMIC ELEPHANT#oh weird rhythmic elephant what would we do without you#me kicking my stupid little feet as jamil wakes up through sheer force of kalim though#he was SO happy for jamil and SO ready to just go along with everything. my sweet boy.#jamil getting so flustered by him that he's just shocked back into reality#and the SLAPFIGHT#silver being like 'they need this' and doing his one smile animation as kalim and jamil are pulling on each other's hair and going YOU SMEL#mmm yes delicious#also this is probably nothing but#but...they brought up the whole thing with azul having dirt on crowley again#the thing that was briefly alluded to in episode 4 and never mentioned ever again?!#i had JUST finally convinced myself that i was reading too much into it and it was just azul playing along with jamil's plan#but now they've mentioned it again and i'm going to be all BUT WHAT DOES IT MEEEEEAAAAN for another three years about it#is it a meaningless reference to that one scene?! is it absolutely ridiculous foreshadowing?! am i ever going to be validated?!#I HAVE TO KNOW
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lovecolibri · 2 years ago
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catgrandpa · 2 months ago
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I need a fic where Bruce realizes this kid who shoved his way into his sidekick roll will not be leaving anytime soon, and instead of emotionally distancing himself he becomes a combination Helicopter Mom and Shotgun Dad.
☆彡
Tim: Bruce, I’m headed out to meet my friends at the mall.
Bruce: Is that Kent boy going to be there?
Tim, rolling his eyes: Yes, Kon is going. And so is Bart, and Cassie, and maybe Bernard if he can make it.
Bruce: Hnn. Do you have everything? Coat, scarf, keys, wallet, tracker, pepper spray, dagger, kryptonite shard, emergency beacon, first aid kit, fire starter, extra pair of-
Tim: Yes, Dad! I already went through the list with Alfred. I’ll be fine.
☆彡
Kon: Hello Sir! I’m here to pick up Tim!
Bruce: Follow me.
Bruce: Sit down.
Kon: In your study? Is Tim on the way, or…?
Bruce: I just thought you might need reminding of the fact that I have a vault downstairs full of items specifically designed to take down a Kryptonian.
Kon: Whuh?
Bruce: You should probably ask your father about the time I was slightly annoyed with him for encroaching on one of my cases.
Kon: Why are you telling me this?
Bruce: Now just imagine what would happen if someone were to hurt my darling little boy.
*door opens*
Tim: Hey Bruce, Alfie said Kon was here, have you seen him? Oh! Hey, why are you two in here??
Bruce: Oh, hey sweetheart, we were just chatting. Have a good time at the carnival!
☆彡
Dick, pouting: I don’t understand, you’re not this protective over who Jason or I date.
Bruce: Don’t be ridiculous, Jason and I may have our problems, but he would never betray me by gallivanting off with someone I disapprove of.
Dick, who covered for Jay sneaking out to visit Roy Harper just last night: Mhm yeah, sure. And you’re not worried about me?
Bruce: Chum, I’ve known who you were going to marry since you were 12 years old.
Dick: WHAT?
Bruce: I have the whole ceremony already planned. I’ve got Gotham’s best wedding planner on standby. You have a very nice house waiting for you both, 20 minutes from here. A modest 7 bedrooms on 5 acres of land.
Dick: I’m not even dating anyone?!
Bruce: I can’t wait to meet my 3 grandbabies:)
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keferon · 5 months ago
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The tac net crash chapter is one of my favorites so far~
Ah and. Guess what. I just discovered that including this post, I made 50 pieces of fanart for Mistakes on mistakes until.. I’m so sane and normal about this story can you tell👍
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solarmorrigan · 18 days ago
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The Witch and The Carpenter
For the @steddie-spooktober day 23 prompt: Witch Rated: T | Words: 2862 | CW: None | Tags: fantasy AU, witch!Eddie Munson, carpenter!Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington gets migraines, Eddie Munson needs a hug, Steve Harrington needs a hug, they're perfect for each other hugs all around Divider credit: @saradika
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Eddie hears about the new carpenter within hours of his rolling into town – of course he does; any witch worth their salt knows exactly what’s going on in their town at all times (it’s hard not to, when you’re the one providing the potions and charms that help everyone else keep their secrets).
His name is Steve, and he’s come with hopes of filling the hole left when Benny, the previous town carpenter, had died without an heir to his business. People say that he seems hardworking and capable, that he’s strong and handsome, that he’s friendly enough, but that there’s something a little distant about him – a little lonely (though the older ladies who give Eddie gossip do tend to romanticize at times).
Eddie doesn’t expect to meet him as soon as he does, but before even his first week in town is out, Steve turns up on Eddie’s doorstep, looking at once earnest and wary, and just as handsome as the gossip had said.
(Not that that last bit has any bearing on anything.)
“People in town say you’re the one to see for remedies,” Steve says when Eddie gets the door open.
“People in town say a lot of things,” Eddie replies. “But in this case, they’re right. Come on in.”
Inside, Eddie finds out that Steve is seeking a remedy for headaches. But not just any headaches; these seem to be full-body affairs that can keep Steve down for days at a time. He gets dizzy, nauseous, is bothered by any noise, and even candlelight can be too bright for his eyes.
Eddie mixes him up something strong, gives him strict instructions on how it’s to be taken, and then moves on to the matter of payment.
At that, Steve begins to look sheepish.
“I’ve only just set up my business. I… don’t have much money yet,” he admits. “I was hoping you might be willing to do a trade.”
Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him. “And what do you have to trade that you think might interest me?”
“Your door?” Steve offers.
“…what about my door?” Eddie asks after a long moment of confused silence.
“It sticks. You were having trouble getting it closed earlier. I could fix that,” Steve says.
And it’s true – Eddie’s front door does stick. So does the back door. The shutters often refuse to open or shut properly, and the porch sags a little, and there’s a leak in the roof when it rains hard enough. While Eddie is the best in the business when it comes to working magic, he’s not so handy with home repairs.
(It doesn’t particularly help that witches exist in an odd sort of social limbo. Every town needs one—this is generally acknowledged as truth—but no one particularly wants them around. Eddie lives a little ways away from town, up against the forest line, where it’s easy to ignore him and his shabby house unless someone needs something from him. No one has ever exactly been chomping at the bit to come help him fix the place up.)
Eddie shouldn’t say yes. He often trades goods and services, but he doesn’t know this man. He doesn’t know if he’s reliable, doesn’t even know if his work is any good – but something in him wants to agree, anyway.
Maybe it’s the earnestness of his offer, or the hope in his expression that he’s clearly trying to quash, or maybe Eddie’s just a sucker for a pretty face, but eventually he finds he can’t say anything but, “Okay, sure.”
“Thank you,” Steve sighs as he accepts the potion. “How would tomorrow work for you?”
Still not entirely sure he expects Steve to show up, Eddie says that tomorrow is fine. If he doesn’t show, if he thinks he can fleece a witch and continue living peacefully in town, he’ll quickly find out otherwise. And if he does come back – well, it would be nice to have a door that doesn’t stick anymore.
“What’s your favorite color?” Steve asks before he leaves.
“Red,” Eddie answers, one brow raised in a question that Steve doesn’t answer.
“Red.” Steve nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The next day, Steve is back bright and early with a bag of tools and a pot of paint. He tells Eddie not to mind him, he’ll just get to work and try to stay out of Eddie’s way, but Eddie can’t help but watch as Steve inspects the door hinges, the frame, and then not only trims the door down, but sands and paints it, too.
Red: Eddie’s favorite color.
Anyway, it isn’t Eddie’s fault for getting distracted. There’s an unfairly attractive man doing manual labor in front of his house, what’s he supposed to do?
Eventually, though, Eddie does force himself to look away. He shouldn’t get attached to things he knows he can’t have. He’s the witch; he’s in the background of everyone else’s story, he doesn’t get to have one of his own – especially not with someone like Steve.
And that’s fine, Eddie had accepted that long ago. He likes being able to help people, and it’s sort of the only thing he’s any good at. He won’t deny that it stings sometimes, the way people talk about witches—about him—but what should he care about what other people think?
In any case, it doesn’t matter, because once Steve finishes with the door, it’s unlikely the two of them will cross paths again any time soon.
Steve finishes the door (it now opens and closes smooth as butter) and goes home.
And comes back the next week.
“Finished what I gave you already?” Eddie asks.
Steve shrugs. “Stress always makes the headaches worse, and with travelling and setting up shop…”
Eddie nods, pursing his lips in thought. “I could make you a bigger batch, but it would cost you more.”
“I can fix those shutters.” Steve nods towards the windows. “And you mentioned something about the back door?”
“You’re going to neglect your real customers, spending all your time fixing up my house,” Eddie teases.
“I can make the time,” Steve says, smiling at Eddie. “I think it’s worth it.”
Eddie has to turn away again, reminding himself that Steve is talking about the medicine, not him.
He fixes up a bigger batch of that same strong potion he’d made the previous week (“I’ve never had anything work so well,” Steve had practically gushed. “It was more than worth my work.”) and Steve comes back the next afternoon to start work on the back door.
They talk more this time, when Steve takes breaks, when Eddie is between tasks and brings him cool water to drink, and Eddie finds that Steve is funny and sweet, and catty and sharp, and a bigger gossip than even Eddie himself. And he reminds himself, again and again, that Steve is not for him. This isn’t how the story goes.
Witches don’t get nice things.
(And that’s fine. Eddie is fine with it. He’s fine.)
They do, however, get increasingly nice houses, apparently. Or at least Eddie does. Steve paints the back door red, too, and then gets to work fixing the shutters. Those, to Eddie’s bemusement, he paints a buttery, golden yellow.
“They don’t exactly scream ‘witch’s cottage’,” Eddie points out.
Steve only shrugs. “It’s my favorite color,” he says, flashing a grin at Eddie. “Besides, I think they go with the doors.”
Eddie doesn’t argue.
It goes on like this. Eddie brews medicine for Steve’s headaches, and Steve finds things around the house to work on. He fixes the leak in the roof, the creaky porch steps, the drawer in the kitchen that will never stay closed; his business picks up in town, but he always makes time for Eddie.
As much as he can, at least.
“I’ve got a few big orders built up,” he says apologetically one afternoon as he collects his medicine from Eddie. “I’m not sure when I’ll have time to get to the cabinets like I said I would, but I can pay you–”
“Nah.” Eddie waves Steve’s offer away before he can pull out any coins. “I’ll just put it on your tab.”
Eddie doesn’t do tabs.
Steve looks skeptical. “If you’re sure…”
“Of course I am. And if, for some reason, you welch on our deal,” Eddie gives Steve a sharp grin, “I do know where you live.”
“You should come visit, then,” Steve says.
Eddie falters. “What?”
“If you want to, I mean.” Steve shrugs, avoiding Eddie’s gaze. “Just– if I can’t make it out here, maybe you could come see me, instead.”
And again, he’s so earnest, trying so hard not to look too hopeful, that Eddie can’t say anything but, “Alright, I will.”
The way Steve lights up at that is worth just about anything he could have Eddie do.
Eddie tries to remind himself of this as he ventures into town the next week.
He doesn’t go into the town proper very often; he grows a lot of what he needs and trades for a lot of the rest of it with customers; he’s a rare enough sight that some people stare, and whisper, and Eddie does his best to hold his head up high and walk without a care.
And if he pulls faces at some of the more egregious offenders, causing them to gasp and scurry away, scandalized, well – Eddie is allowed his simple pleasures.
Anyway, Steve is all smiles when he finds Eddie at his door, and that’s the most important thing. He ushers him through the shop (a large, warm space that smells of wood shavings and sweet smoke, just as Eddie’s come to associate with Steve) and into the living space above. He serves Eddie tea and cake with a studied nonchalance that says he doesn’t want Eddie to realize how excited he is.
How excited he is to see Eddie.
Eddie searches for anything else to focus on before he does something ridiculous, like act on the rising warm feeling in his chest. He finds it, oddly, in Steve’s eyes.
“Have you been sleeping?” Eddie asks him; the shadows beneath his eyes look almost like bruises.
Steve shrugs. “I’ve been busy.”
His hands are shaking, Eddie realizes, as he pours the tea for the both of them. Steve must notice Eddie noticing, because he folds his hands back into his lap with a little huff.
“Happens sometimes,” he says brusquely. “More annoying than anything. Carpenters are supposed to have steady hands.”
(Eddie wonders sometimes what must have happened to Steve, but he’s seen some of the scars that adorn his body, has seen the faraway look that gets into his eyes from time to time, and he thinks he knows. Steve has the bearing of a soldier, and the eyes of a man too kind to have ever been made to fight for a king who doesn’t give a damn about him.)
Taking the hint, Eddie changes the subject, but the thought of Steve’s shaking hands follows him home. All those tools, all those sharp things he works with – maybe Steve isn’t his, not his to worry over or to care of, but Eddie decides he’s damn well going to do it anyway.
The next time Steve comes by, Eddie slips him an extra packet along with his usual potion.
“You brew it like tea,” Eddie says to Steve’s confused glance. “Should help steady your hands, when you need it.”
Steve stares down at the packet for several silent seconds. “You didn’t have to–”
“But I wanted to.”
Shaking his head, Steve looks back up at Eddie. “How can I–”
Eddie waves him off before the question is fully formed. “Let’s say it’s on the house, for my best customer.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” Steve says, not without amusement.
“Then how about my favorite customer?” Eddie offers.
Steve is smiling now. “Are you allowed to have favorites?”
“I’m the witch,” Eddie reminds him with a smirk. “I can do whatever I want.”
And so it goes.
And so it might have continued going, if it hadn’t been for the night Steve turns up at Eddie’s door well after dark, looking grey and haggard and haunted.
Eddie ushers him in, sits him down, makes him some tea, and tries to get some words out of him.
“Do you make anything to help people sleep?” is what Steve finally asks.
“I can,” Eddie says slowly, watching Steve carefully.
Steve drops his face into his hands, rubbing harshly at his eyes. “I just– I just want to sleep. I don’t want to dream, just for one night,” he says, so low that Eddie has to strain to catch all the words. “Just once.”
Eddie weighs his options. He knows how to make an elixir for a deep, dreamless sleep; he won’t deny that he’s used it himself, when certain memories had become too much, but that’s exactly how he knows that it hits hard and fast. It can be disorienting – maybe even a little dangerous, if you don’t know what you’re doing.
“I can make something for you,” Eddie says, “but only if you stay here tonight. I don’t want you walking back home in the dark, it isn’t safe.”
“I don’t… I don’t want to impose,” Steve says, as if he could ever be an imposition to Eddie.
“I’d feel better knowing you’re here,” Eddie says, and that seems to break Steve’s resolve.
By the time Eddie finishes the elixir, Steve is barely awake in his seat. He doesn’t even argue when Eddie leads him to his own bed, lays him down, and tells him to drink.
He’s out like a light in minutes.
Eddie closes the bedroom door and sets himself up in a chair by the fire, but he doesn’t sleep for a long time.
He wakes in the morning to the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen. He follows the smell and coffee and sizzling bacon to find Steve there, flitting around the room, cooking.
“Hey.” Steve smiles, broad and true, when he sees Eddie in the doorway. “I was going to come wake you soon, breakfast is almost ready.”
Eddie blinks at him, wondering if maybe he’s the one who took the sleeping elixir, because he can’t quite fathom what he’s seeing: Steve, happy and sleep-rumpled, using his kitchen to cook breakfast like it’s familiar to him, like it’s something he does every day, smiling at Eddie like he’s the final piece missing from the morning.
“I don’t know how I’m going to repay you for what you did last night,” Steve says, determinedly poking at the bacon in the pan. “I can’t– I can’t tell you how much I needed that. How much it helped. But I figured I could at least start by making you breakfast.”
Eddie watches him cook, and feels like his heart is about to crack, because for some reason he’s getting this taste of what life could be like, but he doesn’t get to keep it.
This isn’t for him.
(And Eddie wants to be fine, but he isn’t. He isn’t.)
Something must show on his face, because when Steve looks up at him, his own expression falls into a concerned frown. He forgets all about the bacon and moves over to Eddie, arms outstretched to place his hands on Eddie’s shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, so invested, so concerned, that Eddie feels like he might lose his mind.
“This isn’t right,” Eddie manages, and Steve only looks more upset.
“Should I– should I not have done this? Did you want me to go, or–”
“I never want you to go!” Eddie blurts. “I always want you here, but this—this morning, breakfast, you—I don’t get to have this. It’s – it’s not right.”
Steve’s expression softens, eyes warming with understanding. “You can have it, if you want,” he says softly. “You can have me. You always could have. Since the beginning.”
Eddie shakes his head. “This isn’t… this isn’t how the story goes.”
“Then let’s write a new one,” Steve says.
There isn’t anything Eddie can think to say to that, but that’s alright, because that means his mouth is unoccupied when Steve leans in to kiss him.
Steve never has to trade anything for his medicine ever again, after that, nor does he have to come over to fetch it – he’s already there. Eddie’s house becomes the nicest in town, what with his live-in carpenter, and all. It’s painted in bright colors, and it draws people in, and makes them want to stay just a little longer, exchange pleasantries just a little more, and get to know Eddie just a little bit better.
Steve keeps his workshop in town, goes there every morning, and returns to Eddie at night. They start their days with breakfast together, and they end them in bed, pressed together like spoons in a drawer, and with every day that passes by, Eddie believes, more and more, that maybe this is something he gets to have.
Maybe this is something he gets to keep.
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.
except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?
at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.
except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.
about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.
he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.
#i used to think it was romantic too and then i was like. now i see it as a HUGE red flag#writeblr#it is also almost EXCLUSIVELY said by immature ppl who think this is normal#fyi even if u think it's funny and ur like 'im an introvert it's just TRUE' like. you need therapy (ily tho)#healed introversion is just ''i would prefer to be by myself'' not ''i hate every person'' ... hate is not normal. that is not healthy#im sorry. i know it feels accurate. but if you're walking around with that kind of rage....#1. you're making a LOT of assumptions about every single person u have ever met. which is often unfair and unkind#and also usually involves judging people based on their worst moments or little mistakes#2. you are being unfair to the person who is ur ''exception''#3. there is a VAST difference between ''ur my favorite person'' and ''the ONLY person i like.''#idk i think this is just a personal bias thing tbh#im sure there are people who have this experience normally#but i have YET to find a man who thinks like this and ISNT absolute DOGSHIT. although tbh.... like. im sure he exists#when u hit like 30 some of the things that were once kind of hot now just sound fucking exhausting. like ''im in a band''#edit in the tags: i used to kind of be like this too. but the thing is that like. my life became so much more peaceful#once i started believing that people are generally good. like yes i am mad at the world at large#but it's just.... a very hard way to live. you're not a bad person or wrong for the ways other people hurt you and taught you to be angry.#but that anger will continue to hurt YOU. it will punish YOU. it will prevent YOU from making new deep connections. it will protect you yes#but it will also cause MASSIVE blowback. bc if you lose the One Person... your life will fall apart. i know this personally.#i really recommend just trying to be... cautiously optimistic instead. like. yes#people can be horrible and cruel and there are some communities (incels for example) that aren't worth that optimism#but i think like... most people will hold a door for you . most people want to help you find your wallet .#i hope one day you are able to find peace. i hope that rage eventually smooths over. i know how hard it is PERSONALLY#and i know what must have happened to you. and im deeply deeply sorry we share the same wound.#but i promise - sometimes we all need someone else to help us carry the weight. eventually the rage has to die so that we can let help in#i had to spend years biting at outstretched hands. i still often do. im still very wary . and my heart breaks that you flinch too.#here's the thing: i don't blame you. but we were both acting out of fear and pain. .... not out of healthy behavior. and ... change#was needed. i needed change too. rage was useful for a while. then it just left me isolated and bitter. i had to (with effort)#choose to let that rage go. and let people in . VERY SLOWLY THO LOL
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neon-zipperooni · 1 month ago
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this fandom confuses me
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deep-space-lines · 4 months ago
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I remember reaching deep underneath my ribs,
grabbing out my heart and holding it up to the dawn
where it caught fire
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crunchycrystals · 1 year ago
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this makes me want to cry
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formulanni · 4 months ago
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Crashed💥‼️
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Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo
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xylo-art · 3 months ago
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Just wanted to doodle Loop in some of my favorite outfits!
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egophiliac · 9 months ago
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What do you like about the Diasomnia boys if I may ask?
I always love hearing about the different reasons people enjoy characters.
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I mean, c'mon. he has split custody over Sebek okay
also, Lilia in particular has maybe the best timeskip character development of all time
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#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 chapter 4 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 chapter 4 spoilers#stage in playful land#i hope this is legible whoops#anon i am sorry but you made the fatal mistake of asking me to talk about diasomnia#insert 'i just think they're neat' jpg#i do like the other characters a lot but they are definitely my favorites#they just hit a lot of my favorite things in characters i guess!#yes even you sebek even though you keep shrieking NINGEN at me#(it's okay he gets Character Development™ later)#and their dynamic! it's great! these guys frikking love each other SO much and they WILL have terrible terrible angst about it#ohoho delicious#give me all your emotional hangups baybeeeee#also somewhere in there i went from 'i like them all equally (but lilia is the most fun to draw)'#to 'lilia is absolutely my favorite (and still the most fun to draw) (EVEN MORE fun now thank you swishy ponytail!)'#(it was probably when his candy coating got a little scratched and whoops all the tragedy fell out)#(where's that 'get loved loser' post because i need to staple it to lilia's forehead)#i am extremely bad at putting things into words so please don't ask me to explain it any further#just know that the diafam is everything to me and if we don't get more episode 7 soon i'm going to crumble into dust and blow away#we'll be getting the crowleytimes on monday and maybe there will be. idk. some foreshadowing or something in his groovy#probably not but LOOK i'm desperate
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theonewhowails · 11 months ago
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silly stuff i drew while reading Feel No Evil by @payasita , in which the Lamb does not know how to propose, Narinder does not know how to be alive, and neither of them knows what an obligate carnivore is
bonus? lmao
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caycanteven · 11 months ago
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I needed some more nightmare gang in my life (and I will add the others later just got eepy)
Lex’s face never fucking stays the same and it’s frustrating
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ourstaturestouchtheskies · 3 months ago
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Summer – Thomas Dewing // The Hermit Thrush – Thomas Dewing // The White Birch – Thomas Dewing // seven – Taylor Swift
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sensitiveheartless · 1 year ago
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Chuuya making Dazai cry in the last comic broke my heart, I know it’s only a few tears but jeez that had to hurt
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He’ll be alright, he’s just experiencing equal measures of reluctant heartbreak and crippling embarrassment (he ran all the way back to the ADA and has been dividing his time between sulking on the couch and thudding his head on his own desk ever since)(it’s okay, the other detectives are attempting to cheer him up in their own special ways :D)
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