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meeedeee · 11 months

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#not mine #wish I could credit the creator #lgbtq+#very witty

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treasureplcnet · 6 months

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assorted bodies doodles (transcript of that messy relationship square under the cut due to my handwriting/incoherency)

TAKE THESE W A GRAIN OF SALT i am like 90% joking:

hillinghead -> hasan, and vice versa: immediate mutual respect

hillinghead -> whiteman: he's incredibly smart, deceptively cunning but very kind. but he is also so annoying oh my god--

hillinghead -> maplewood: "please someone explain science fiction to me"

whiteman -> iris, and vice versa: two friends secretly think of the other as the sidekick

whiteman -> hillinghead: annoying him is quickly becoming a favorite pasttime

whiteman -> hasan: will not admit it but he wants parenting tips from her

hasan -> whiteman: has slipped a parenting book to him

hasan -> maplewood: deja vu about their future weirds her out a little, but she trusts her

iris -> hillinghead: fond of him from the time they spoke in the prison. enjoys fucking with him

iris -> hasan: SHE'S THE GOAT

#re: while i like whiteman being a funny comic relief type character in this lineup (less comic relief and more witty and funny)#i do recognise that he's not rly like that in canon. much more cunning and able to blend into whatever situation he can #able to say the right things when he needs to (right after farrell dies) and deflecting of any real observations (with calloway)#its very chameleon like to the point of giving up a very integral part of his identity to safeguard himself--#even though he cares very much about it (the way he reacts to antisemitic comments and his face drops when farrell mentions the synagogue)#now what is actually annoying to hillinghead is that he knows karl can actually be very gracious he's still choosing to fuck with him LOL #the annoyance spreads to iris too. i rly think iris-karl buddy cop duo could be so funny #i actually really need more fic or art of them all interacting . here's how bodies s2 can still happen.#bodies netflix #karl weissman #esther jankovsky #sharara hasan #alfred hillinghead #iris maplewood #and sorry to hillinghead who is not drawn well. kyle soller 1 treasureplcnet 0 #my art #and im not quite sure why theyre having breakfast tgt in that first comic. perhaps bc the original meme has them like that LOL

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lilislegacy · 1 month

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hear me out

grown up percy jackson ≈ tony stark

i’m pretty sure that i am not the first person to say this. but it’s the way that they’re both sarcastic and witty, even in dangerous situations (no percy is not self obsessed or entitled like him lol)

also i’ve decided to use gifs instead of words to explain the similarities

#only percy isn’t self obsessed lol #they are VERY different but the humor is so similar #they’re both so sarcastic and sassy #even in dangerous situations they’re making witty comments #i love this comparison guys #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #tony stark #avengers #marvel #percabeth #pjo

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duchessofostergotlands · 2 months

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“Kensington Palace made it clear in January the timelines of the Princess’ recovery and we’d only be providing significant updates. That guidance still stands.”

Kensington Palace have got their sassy pants on and I for one am thoroughly enjoying it

#reminds me of the very dry and witty statement about William’s haircut #british royal family #kate middleton

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sureuncertainty · 11 months

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so as a former employee of RMS Titanic Inc, I have some thoughts I need to get out about this whole current situation, or I will literally explode.

for context, I worked for RMST Inc. for a year and a half as a tour guide and artifact specialist. The company owns the salvage rights to the wreck site, and partners with Oceangate and other companies to retrieve artifacts. the artifacts are used for educational purposes only, in the museum that I worked at, although they weren’t above selling little bits of coal from the Titanic in stupid little tchotchkes like snowglobes and hourglasses.

i dedicated so much of my life and passion to that company and that museum and was treated like absolute dirt lol. and I didn’t even get the worst of it, I had friends and coworkers whose safety and wellbeing was consistently disregarded for the sake of profit, fighting desperately for corporate to stop pretending to care about the legacy of Titanic when all they really cared about was making money

so despite my initial shock at reading about what was going on with the missing submersible, I can’t say I’m surprised. This is what fucking happens when you cut corners and put profit over everything else. If only there was some big historical event that we could look to that would show us just exactly how dangerous that can be... oh wait.

Jack Thayer, who was 17 when he survived Titanic, said that “the world woke up on April 15, 1912″, which pretty much sums up how SURE people were in 1912 that they would never make those same mistakes again. They realized had gotten complacent and swore things would be different. They enacted safety laws, pointed fingers at survivors, created conspiracy theories to try to explain what happened, all out of fear of it happening again. And yet, history always repeats itself

and now people are fucking OBSESSED with the Titanic, they find it fascinating, they won’t fucking leave it alone, and the company I worked for, and Oceangate, and others, capitalize on that because they’re greedy and want to make money off of it. all they care about is how to profit off of it. they PRETEND to care about Titanic but they don’t. They never did.

I also actually have a personal connection to one of the five members of the team in the submersible. I met P.H. Nargeolet at the event our museum did commemorating the 110th anniversary of the sinking, I spoke to him and heard firsthand some of his accounts of dives to the wreck site, I even took a picture with him. He cared, he cared so much about Titanic and its legacy, and so do I and so did so many of my friends I worked with. The company we worked for took advantage of our caring, it took advantage of how passionate we were about it in order to line its executives’ fucking pocket

I’m horrified, I’m devastated, I’m vindicated.

on the one hand, I hope this ruins them. i want to watch the company die. there’s a satisfaction in that. but the shitty thing is how much suffering has to happen for things to change. i just wish good people didn’t have to die to make change happen. I wish people cared first, before tragedy strikes. I wish our world wasn’t so fucked up and shit like this didn’t happen. But it did. And it does. And money won’t save any of those people any more than it saved John Jacob Astor or Benjamin Guggenheim, or any of the other rich greedy assholes who died on Titanic. I’m not celebrating their deaths. But I won’t ever forget who suffers the most. The coal trimmers and the stewards and the minimum wage guest service associates at the museum I worked at.

I’m glad I don’t work there anymore. But some of my best friends still do. And I don’t want them to suffer more because of this. All I can hope is that it enacts meaningful change that actually lasts. But I know that’s just wishful thinking.

#win rambles #this is very convoluted and not really... idk how much sense it makes i just had to get thoughts out #i don' thave a witty conclusion or a message or anything like that #i just want people to know how shitty our company was and i want you to know how much i loved that job and how much i cared #and how much people in the titanic community do care #i'm just tired of seeing posts and memes about it from poeple who don't know what they're talking about #the titanic community is full of shitty bigoted white men and people who fucked me over bc i'm trans #and fucked over my queer nonwhite neurodivergent disabled friends #but me and my friends are in the community too whether they like it or not and we care and WE matter #titanic #rms titanic

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creekfiend · 1 year

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Man sometimes I think about the gay adults in my life when I was a kid and I get so emotions

My shop ("technology education") teacher in middle school was this extremely gruff no nonsense older dyke who I was just totally enchanted by and she brought her rescue dog to class all the time and I like, drew her Sailor Moon drawings to put on her classroom door in sparkly gel pen. Other kids would go "ew I heard she's a lesbian" at lunch and I would be like "what did you say. Say that to my face. Meet me in the pit. I have no idea why I feel so strongly about this but meet me in the pit nevertheless. I'm 12 and I would take a bullet for Nancy Lynn and her wife who I have Never met"

Just. When ur a baby gay and ur like. "I have no idea why I would trust this loud opinionated masculine woman with my life," lol

I often wonder what she thought. As an adult now I am like, "Oh yeah, I can for sure identify when kids are fascinated by me because there is something about themselves that they see in me and they're curious and excited to meet an adult who is like them in some way even tho they don't know why" so she must have known. She was very nice to me and we were friends and she knew my parents also. so. OH IM FEELING EMOTIONS ABOUT IT ALL OVER AGAIN

Man. I love. Middle aged butches

A friend of mine has two 12 year old kids and one is a furry who loves to draw Wolves With Horns and I am going to stop at their house and visit when my friend and I drive back with Flare this spring and so my friend was telling her kids about me and she showed them some pictures and her kid was like SO EXCITED and my friend sent me a bunch of voice messages from her this morning being like "WOW I LOVE THE MOON TOO. WHAT DO YOU LIKE TO DRAW THEN MOST? WHATS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR MINE IS PURPLE" this kid already knows she is queer because her mom and her school are awesome and 2023 is a different place to be 12 in than 2001. But I'm still like 🥺 TO BE AN ASPIRATIONAL FIGURE FOR QUEER KIDS.. ooogh. Feelings

#i was also lowkey in love with our very gay family friend Steve as a child bc he was so CLEVER and FUNNY and WITTY #equal opportunity infant gay baby.

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destinyandcoins · 7 months

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okay i know shane was making a (highly relatable) point here about the tediousness of having to plan and prepare meals over and over again, but also like. yeah. that's exactly how the pandemic felt. it's another week and there's gonna be seven days

#sorry something about the phrasing of this was SO funny to me #shane out there teaching folks about the concept of time and how to count the days #watcher #food files #shane madej #DELIGHTFUL show #fun and witty banter and very charming to see the two of them in the ''off'' moments when they're filling time between Obligations

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zeroducks-2 · 2 months

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"Dick is so smart and cunning he can easily hurt the people he loves with just one sentence"

Yall do realize that this is like. Extremely easy. Hurting someone's feelings is a walk in the park once you get to know them, like even superficially. Talk to a tumblr mutual twice and you're likely going to know what to say to piss them off or make them upset. Your close loved ones? Yeah that's even easier since you hold the nuclear codes to their insecurities and most likely know a good chunk of their secrets. Even hurting them by accident is easy.

When Dick hurts people with his sharp tongue it's not a testament of how smart he is. I mean you can choose to see it like that I guess, but to me it only shows that he has been raised by Bruce and he's been taught that every bit of knowledge he has can be used as a weapon. He rarely ever does it anyway because he's a very good person, unlike his mentor.

#idk folks this feels like one of the classic 'mean behaviors are a symptom of intelligence' tropes which are pretty dumb if you ask me #hurting people doesn't require high level of smarts #sure witty comebacks tend to come from smart folks but being witty and emotionally intelligent are two very different things #'oh but he can easily hurt people because he's emotionally intelligent' that's not how it works #being emotionally intelligent is what allows him to UNDERSTAND people support them be a good leader #Bruce says things that hurt people ALL THE TIME and he's the emotionally dumbest person alive #anyways #Dick Grayson

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beaft · 1 year

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"I remember Toni Morrison said something like 'the serious work of racism is distraction.' And something similar is happening with transphobia and the conversations of TERFs. The fight they want to have is a distraction. It is shallow. If I even acknowledge the terms they set, I walk into a distraction. Trans women are out here making really incredible art—I know so many trans artists doing mind-blowing things, making profound statements about what it means to be alive—and you’ve got this crew going 'BATHROOM! TRANS! WHERE U GO POOPOOPEEPEE?' Or whatever they say. That is a distraction. Even as a fight, it is frankly a boring and undignified fight. I’ve got better things to do."

-Torrey Peters

#reading detransition baby right now it's Good #she has this very no-nonsense and witty way of phrasing big topics that i really enjoy #torrey peters #detransition baby

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hooked-on-elvis · 14 days

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Vince: Man, give me that fortune! What you're gonna do with all that money? Vince: I'm gonna buy me a herd of chorus girls and make 'em dance on my bed.

Elvis Presley as Vince Everett in Jailhouse Rock (MGM, 1957) — Dir. Richard Thorpe; Screenplay by Guy Trosper.

#jailhouse rock movie is full of witty lines #very well done the script #elvis presley #jailhouse rock #1957 #elvis #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis history #50s elvis

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serenescribe · 8 months

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I'm a *tad* obsessed with the idea of fae Lilia raising a completely different species son Silver, specifically jellyfish mer Silver. I am curious to see how you would interpret fae Lilia finding baby jelly Silver.

it's been a long while since the last long fic request :') slowly chipping away at them. uni is killing me. i hope you enjoy!

a side note: this was started beeeefore the latest update? actually started it before uni but then didn't get back to it till recently oTL

The thronging crowds of shoppers press in around him, making it harder for him to traverse through the crowd. Still, Lilia tries his best to shove his way past them, twisting his shoulders and ploughing through any gaps he can find. On instinct, one hand reaches up to pull down the hood of his cloak, masking his face further; it isn’t as though he’s in any danger here, or wanted in any capacity, but one should always exercise caution while exploring the boundaries of a black market.

For as long as Lilia can remember, he’s been searching for an old friend of his since the end of the war, travelling to different corners of the world in hopes of finding some inkling of his existence. Such a quest has brought him here, to a black market tucked away in the corner of a tiny island, but unfortunately for himself, Lilia has ended up empty-handed.

He’s trying to leave the area, pushing and shoving his way through the endless sea of patrons, when a sudden shrill cry stops him in his tracks. Lilia’s ears twitch. His head snaps to the side, following the source of the sound, only to come across a small group crowding around a rickety wooden stage. A tall man dressed in a patchwork suit jacket and a rumpled collared shirt talks to all of them, gesturing animatedly with his hands.

But it is what the man is gesturing at that snatches Lilia’s breath.

Because next to him, curled up in a too-small tank filled with muddied water, is a tiny little mer. Little tendrils of its tail tangle together as the creature presses thin fingers against the glass panes of the tank, auroral eyes flicking from side to side with a fervent desperation that Lilia feels in his soul. It is too young to be here, too small; Why in the name of the Thorn Fairy is this child here?

And for some reason, against the logic that tells him he should turn and leave, return to the Valley and carry on with his next mission, his next search, Lilia finds himself stepping towards the stage instead. He slips through the mob with silent steps, eyes fixated upon the petrified mer — a jellyfish, he recognises, his knowledge of aquatic animals rising to mind.

Within a matter of seconds, Lilia has gotten close enough that he catches wind of what the man is saying: “—a beauty, isn’t it?” he crows, tapping a dirty fingernail against the tank, causing the little mer child to shrink away. “We caught it out on the sea this mornin’, and we ain’t gonna let it go for anythin’ less than two thousand thaumarks!”

Disgust chokes his throat like a slimy wad of muck. How utterly deplorable, Lilia thinks, a rare flash of anger sparking through him. He still does not understand what has drawn him so much to this strange creature — the mer with dull silver hair who hugs itself, little bubbles floating through the water as its gills flutter, so impossibly tiny and small—

…Ah. He understands now.

In some way, looking upon this child, Lilia is reminded of Malleus. His mind whisks him back to a different time, when he had been tasked with raising the boy through his infant years, his childhood years, until he matured enough that Lilia no longer needed to keep an eye on him at all times. Is it no wonder, then, that his heart seizes at the sight of this blatant mistreatment? Regardless of whether the creature is fae or not — and it is not, evidently a child of the sea — it does not deserve to be sealed away like this.

Lilia could very well afford the mer. Two thousand thaumarks is quite the sum, but for someone who has been in the service of Briar Valley’s royalty for centuries like he has, he has more than enough money to afford it. But at the sight of the sleazy seller, who reeks of rotting fish and keeps toying with the child — banging his fists against the glass, sticking his grimy hand inside to grab its fragile wrist and yank it partially out of the dirty saltwater, yelling loud enough that its fins press against its head, clearly terrified—

The mer’s eyes flick towards him, locking with Lilia’s gaze. A fervent desperation flickers within them. It presses its hand against the glass again, scrabbling against the surface. A silent plea for help — and one that Lilia shall answer in the only way he knows how.

When night falls, Lilia strikes.

The auction for the jellyfish mer has been scheduled for tomorrow – a greedy move on the part of the fisherman selling it, to maximise profits as much as possible by drumming up heaps of attention. But it had worked; by the time evening fell and the terrified little child had been carted away to a dinky tent nearby, a sizable crowd of murmuring buyers had formed. Lilia had caught sight of some of them flipping through their stacks of thaumarks, counting their funds carefully.

He only has one shot at this. He has to make it count.

Closing his eyes, Lilia allows his magic to cloak him like a thin veil over his skin, shielding him from view. Stealth is his best option here; while he is more than capable of slaughtering everyone involved in kidnapping that young mer, Lilia does not wish to bloody his hands any more than he has to. His days of bloodshed and violence are long behind him, and as much as he wishes to teach the mer’s kidnappers a lesson, he figures that losing the child shall be punishment enough for them.

Besides, it wouldn’t do good if word got out that the general of Briar Valley was off slaughtering humans in another country.

With silent steps, Lilia steals past the guard — a man who keeps dozing off, jolting upwards every few seconds — and slides into the tent with scarcely a whisper. The interior is dank and dim; there is another guard there, this one alert and awake, arms crossed as he surveys the dirty tank left on the floor nearby.

A crushing feeling overtakes his heart at the sight of the mer. The young child curls into itself, tucking its chin into its chest, floating tufts of hair shielding its eyes from view. It looks lifeless, the only sign of its survival being the faint fluttering of gills. Something in his chest twists at the sight, a certainty settling within him. Lilia knows that what he is doing is right.

With the flick of a wrist, he conjures a small mist of magic, watching as it wafts over to the guard and swirls around him. Within a matter of seconds, though he fights to stay awake, the man has passed out, collapsing onto the ground — and it is only Lilia’s reflexes that allow him to cushion the fall, more from the need to avoid attracting attention than any care for the man. Slowly, he lowers him to the ground before releasing the invisibility spell, brushing off his hands on his cloak as he turns back towards the tank to see—

Wide eyes, hued with shades of baby blue and lavender and pink, gaze at him from behind muddied glass. Fingers press against the tank, and Lilia winces at the sound of a warbling trill.

In a flash, he darts forward, pressing a finger against his lips. “Shh!”

But he is too late.

Even as the child slaps its tiny webbed hands over its mouth, eyes widening as it realises what it has done, Lilia knows the guard outside must have heard it. There’s a creaking sound, heavy footsteps dragging across the ground, accompanied by a languid sigh, and it is only his quick reflexes, honed after years and years of war, that allow him to escape notice.

In a flash, Lilia has flung himself upwards, clinging to a corner of the tent, tucking himself in as closely as possible. If he’d had more time, he’d have thrown the same invisibility spell over himself but alas. All he can do is shrink back as much as possible, limbs wrapped around one of the poles holding the tent upright, and praying that the guard is stupid enough to not notice the shadow he’s casting across the floor.

He holds his breath, watching as the burly figure enters the tent.

“Oi,” the guard grunts sharply, narrowing his eyes at the mer in the tank — who thankfully avoids glancing over to Lilia, smart enough to avoid betraying his location. He ambles up to the tank before glancing off to the side. The man stiffens, having found the slumbering body of his fellow guard. “What the—”

Alright, that’s enough of that.

With the same spell he’d casted earlier, Lilia knocks out the second guard. The only caveat is that this time, the guard falls to the ground with nothing to cushion his landing, smashing into a nearby crate with a rather loud CRASH!

Lilia flinches, adrenaline igniting his veins. Dropping from the pole, he barely spares the scene a glance, racing back to the mer instead and lifting the heavy glass lid off its tank. “Can you breathe outside of the water?” he asks, constantly glancing over his shoulder for any signs of someone coming in, ears pricking as he strains to hear the barest bit of sound. As soon as the mer nods, Lilia’s reaching into the briney water as the mer raises its arms, thanking the fact that he’s wearing thick cloth and gloves, if only for the fact that the mer’s tendrils wrap around his limbs as he lifts it out and cradles it close to his chest. “Stay quiet,” he hisses, using his other hand to conjure the same spell from earlier, hoping it’ll hold through. “The last thing we want is to attract any unwanted attention.”

They slip out of the tent just before someone else arrives — another one of the fisherman’s nameless cronies, with the fisherman himself ambling after in ragged loungewear. Lilia holds his breath, skulking beneath the shadow of a tree, each step careful and calculated; he would teleport if he could, but he isn’t sure how that would affect the child, weakened and frail as it is.

So he sneaks away slowly and steadily, leaving the commotion behind, the pitching screams and demands for everyone to search for the missing mer, to get their product back — such an inhumane term that it makes Lilia want to puke. And the further he gets away, the faster he gets; before long, he’s sprinting, the spell melting off of him, out of distance from the captors for now.

The mer clings to him, snuggling close. Lilia holds it tight against him like a lifeline, a swell of such fervent protectiveness rising within him, washing over his mind and soul.

“Here we are,” Lilia breathes. His chest rises and falls as he catches his breath. Ah, he is certainly growing old, more winded from this than he would have been in his prime. His boots dig deep gouges into the sand as he walks towards the shoreline, the night’s sky twinkling overhead, reflecting in the waves to form a sea of stars.

Initially, he’d headed straight for the nearest beach he could think of, all before arriving and already spotting a small group of stragglers searching around. It had taken much longer to travel to a different corner of this island, but it had been a necessary precaution in the end; the last thing Lilia wanted was for the mer to get recaptured after being returned to the sea.

The waves lick at his boots as he walks into the ocean, far enough that the water reaches his knees. “There you go,” Lilia says kindly as he leans down, pulling the little mer away from his chest, returning it to the sea. A soft smile spreads across his lips as he watches the child reach for the water before plunging in with a splash, its form a tiny shadow amidst the lapping waves before its head breaks back above the water.

“Isn’t that better now?” Lilia croons, a warmth wrapping around his heart as the mer nods eagerly, beaming brightly at Lilia, the moonlight shining down on its silver hair. “Good, good,” Lilia says, slowly straightening up. He yawns, stretching his arms above his head, a cracking noise accompanying the motion. “Oh, I hadn’t expected to do this much today,” he murmurs to himself before shaking his head. Giving the mer one last smile, Lilia says, “You take care of yourself now, hm? Don’t go getting caught in any nets again, khee hee.”

And that would have been the end of everything. Ideally, Lilia would have stepped out of the water, using his magic to dry himself off before teleporting to the pier at the other side of the island and waiting for the first ferry to start him on his journey home. The mer would have been relegated to little more than a story to recite to Malleus upon his return, a thrilling rescue he’d mounted in the midst of what would have been another ordinary trip.

But what Lilia didn’t account for was that the child would get attached.

Before he can even make it a few steps away, there’s a rapid-fire outburst of frantic trills and clicking before something heavy barrels right into his legs. Lilia stumbles, losing his balance and crashing down with a screech and a mighty splash. Water soaks through his clothes, his cloak; Lilia spits some of it out of his mouth, blinking the salt out of his eyes, all while something curls around his leg tightly, refusing to let go.

“Little one…” Lilia stares at the mer child, its arms wrapped around his leg, squeezing with a vice grip that a lesser human would not have been able to withstand. Where was all this strength while you were trapped? Lilia ponders briefly, before dismissing the thought. He leans forward, gently prying webbed fingers away from his pants, pulling the child off of him. “Your home is here,” Lilia insists, gesturing at the sea around them. “I live elsewhere; I cannot possibly stay.”

Another round of distressed clicking and trilling. The mer stares at him with big, pleading eyes, swimming forward between his legs to cling to the front of Lilia’s shirt. “Little one—” Lilia tries again, because how can he stay? He has a place to return to, obligations to attend to, people waiting for him. But the mer child ignores him, pressing itself against Lilia with a stubborn determination that surprises him.

“Surely your family should be coming to find you soon,” Lilia tries, only to be met with the shaking of a head, silver hair slicked against its forehead. He raises an eyebrow. “An orphan?” Lilia mutters — words intended for his ears only, except he knows the mer has heard him from the way its grip on him tightens. “But— dear, I cannot possibly bring you home. I live very far away from here, and not anywhere particularly close to the sea!”

But no matter how hard Lilia tries to protest, to gently push the mer off of him, to leave it here — because this is its home, here in the sea; what will become of it, if Lilia were to smuggle it into the Valley, bring it on such a lengthy journey? — it refuses to go. And as time ticks by, the hours passing until the sunrise begins to bleed on the horizon, Lilia finally concedes.

“What a headstrong child you are,” Lilia muses, ignoring the sopping wet cloth clinging to him as he stumbles out of the sea, giggling mer child held in his arms. He gazes at it— no, him, at the child in his hold. “Do you have a name, little one?”

The mer blinks at him. “I’ll take that as a no,” Lilia sighs. Ah… what could a good name possibly be? It’s something he ponders over during the entire trip back, using his magic to mimic a glamour over the mer such that everyone shall see him as only a human child.

But it’s not until he’s sitting in his cabin late at night with the mer curled in his arms that it hits him. Moonbeams streak through the porthole, reflecting off the boy’s shimmering hair, washing it in a silvery light.

“Silver,” Lilia decides, testing the name out on his tongue to find that it feels right.

Silver, this mer he rescued by chance, the one who clung to him, who didn’t want to let go. Silver, who is his.

Leaning back in his chair, Lilia closes his eyes and smiles.

#my writing tag #tumblr drabbles tag #writing requests #twst #twisted wonderland #spoilers are VERY minimal. one line. but just to be safe #twst spoilers #twisted wonderland spoilers #twst ch7 #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #twst fanfiction #twst writing #one down seven to go #i usually have more witty tags here but i'm tired tonight ahfndhfgdg

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