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sage-nebula · 4 months

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I've decided to make my own post because I am not an idiot, but full disclosure that this post is 50% based on thoughts I was having while I was driving home from the auto repair shop yesterday and 50% a response to a post I saw just now that conflated "redemption arcs" (things fictional characters go through in fictional stories) with "community support" (things real life people offer to other real life people in real life) and how this relates to "fixing people" (making someone who mistreats or abuses themself or others not mistreat or abuse themself or others anymore).

Read my words very carefully.

In fiction, it is more than okay to like whatever type of toxic or fantastical relationship you want. If you like to read stories about toxic, codependent people who are absolutely horrible to one another and will never, ever change, you read those stories. If you like to read stories about a tortured man who just needs The Right Person to teach him to be better, and then he is, sometimes exclusively only to them though, then you read those stories. Sometimes you want to read stories where the main character says "I can fix him" and fails spectacularly, and sometimes you want to read stories where the main character says "I can fix him" and succeeds spectacularly, and either way, you read whatever stories you want, whatever makes you happy, I'm sure it's somewhere in this vast Archive that we call Our Own.

However, in real life?

First of all, "arcs" aren't things real life people have. An arc is something that has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Real life people don't have those, because our stories don't end until we die. Unlike a character, whose life presumably continues even after their story ends (except in circumstances where they die at the end but you know what I mean), we have to keep living day by day, with all the rises and falls that come with it. Now, this does not mean that a person cannot change, or that a person can't get better and learn from their mistakes; but it DOES mean that we can't have a "redemption arc" where we complete a checklist of story beats and then suddenly we're a better person who has experienced the necessary growth to be forgiven. First off, no amount of growth or change ever requires any victims to forgive. And second, that's just not how life works. That's not how change works. Change and growth are baby steps taken each day, and sometimes you go backwards, and you get angry with yourself, but then you pick yourself up and you try again the next day, and the next, and the next. It's an ongoing journey that does not end until you die. That's life.

But second and more importantly, the real idea that I think the original post was trying to get at, but missing the mark on was . . . okay.

So, the original OP of the post (and the person who replied to OP) got angry at the idea that the strawman they had invented (the person who had theoretically said "you can't fix him!") would deny support to someone who needs that help to grow and change as a person. The person who had replied in support of OP added that the strawman clearly believed in punitive justice over rehabilitative justice as well. On the surface, I can see where they are coming from. After all, on the whole humans are a social species and do need support networks in order to not only thrive, but survive. People such as drug addicts need support and assistance in order to get into better places in their lives, and the prison system has been proven to be far less effective at preventing repeated offenses than rehabilitative programs. This is all true.

However.

The reason why "you can't fix them" is still true, and needs to be said and understood particularly by those who are susceptible to falling into abusive relationships (e.g. people who have been abused before, particularly in childhood or adolescence) is because of free will. Specifically, the free will that each of us has, but specifically the other person. Person A can want so, so, so badly to "fix" Person B so that they stop being an abusive alcoholic 75% of the time. But if Person B doesn't actually want to stop being an abusive alcoholic (even if they say they do during the 25% of the time they aren't smacking Person A around), and refuses to put in the work that it takes to become sober and be a better person, then guess what? Nothing Person A does will ever make them be a sober, non-abusive partner. They will be unable to fix Person B. It doesn't matter how much time, energy, money, or commitment they pour into that person. It doesn't matter how much they genuinely, honestly, earnestly love them. Because unless Person B wants to change, and will put the work into doing so, then they will not change, and Person A, for their own health, safety, and sanity, needs to exit that relationship.

Now, does that mean that if, ten years down the line, Person B decides they are ready to put in the work to get their alcoholism under control, no one should help them? Of course not! They should absolutely be put in touch with sober counselors, support groups, medical professionals, friends and family who can help them. Person A could potentially forgive them, if Person A chooses. But that willingness to change and put in the work has to come from within Person B first.

I've been in the position where I've seen people in awful situations just tanking their lives, people I loved and cared about, people I begged to just listen to me and get help, only for them to not . . . and ultimately I had to accept that I couldn't fix them. I could be there to offer support when they were ready to fix themselves, but the core work that needed to be done had to come from within themselves. I couldn't provide that. Not because I was inadequate, not because I didn't love them, but because I couldn't force them to do anything they didn't want, or weren't ready, to do.

So at the end of the day, "you can't fix them" isn't about not giving support. It's about recognizing your limitations as a human being. It's about knowing that:

You cannot force someone to do something they do not want to do.

You cannot force someone to do something they are not ready to do.

Not being able to help or save someone is not a moral failing of yours.

Not being able to help or save someone does not mean you do not love or care about them.

Providing support should never come at risk of your own health and safety, physical or otherwise.

When you love someone, it can be really hard to accept this. You think, "I know I can make them want to try. I know I can inspire them to want to change. I know they love me, so if I just love them a little harder, they will want to change." Nine times out of ten, though, that is just not true. And if someone is abusing you, it is not worth the literal risk to your life to keep trying. You are worth more than that. You are more than just someone else's band-aid.

Keep yourselves safe in 2024.

#not an abuse scenario but: my mom died of covid-19 #it's relevant to this discussion bc she was a trump-supporting republican who refused to get vaccinated #bc the far-right propaganda shows she watched told her the vaccine ''wasn't a real vaccine''#and i know this bc when i literally BEGGED MY PARENTS to get the vaccine my mother LAUGHED IN MY FACE and TOLD ME ''it's not a real vaccine #so anyway both my parents got it. my father almost died from it #my mom seemed like she was doing much better . . . except she CONTINUED to smoke heavily while both having covid #and recovering from covid #and once again i said hey don't you think you should not smoke cigarettes while recovering from a serious respiratory disease #and once again she laughed at me #anyway 2 months later her heart gave out in her sleep and she died #bc her body couldn't handle the stress of the cigarettes + alcohol (she was also an alcoholic) after covid had done its thing to her #she was only 56yo #so this was a case where i wanted to fix my mother. i tried so hard. and i've similarly tried to fix my father (who is still alive)#but i can't! my dad almost died and my mom DID die and my dad STILL won't get the vaccine #I HAVE BEGGED THIS MAN. WHO IS NOW 73. TO GET VACCINATED. AND HE STILL WILL NOT.#you can't fix people!!! you can't!!! you can offer them support if they want to fix themselves #you can help them fix themselves but you can't fix them. you just can't. no matter how much you love them #and in abuse cases it can be really fucking dangerous to keep trying.#anyway. that's my TED talk. thanks for attending or w/e it is they say

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void-botanist · 1 month

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Thade Adventures: Parkour

OCs: Thade Orech-Pabat, Caladea Ores-Pabat, and Pirianus Orech-Pabat

Words: 500

Content warnings: heights, getting kinda made fun of in front of your crush

Taglist: @vacantgodling

“Do you think it’s possible to parkour all the way down to the ground floor from here?” Thade said, leaning against the railing at the edge of the open space that cut all the way down to said ground floor.

“Maybe,” Caladea said, barely looking up from her phone.

He grinned. “You think I should try?”

She looked up for real. “No, you can’t parkour.”

“I can totally parkour,” he said, pushing himself up on his arms so that his hips rested against the top of the railing. He brought one sandaled foot up between his hands—he wasn’t going to go further than crouching on the rail, because he couldn’t parkour, but his foot slipped out from under him and his arms betrayed him and he found himself bent double over the railing, clinging to the slats, his feet barely skimming the carpet. The fourth floor suddenly looked very high up.

“Okay, I take it back,” he said. “Can you help me?” If he’d been with anyone but Caladea, they probably would have left him there to think about his actions for a while, but she came over right away to haul him back up by his pants waistband. Which would have worked if he hadn’t chosen this moment to be wearing sweatpants. Instead of helping, she just pulled down his pants, and he suspected also his boxer briefs.

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” she said like it was an accident, but she was also giggling.

“Callie, you better not be filming this.”

“I’m not.” Giggle giggle. She must be, because she certainly wasn’t helping him. He kicked his legs a little bit and felt a cold rush of fear as he shifted forward on the rail. Well, this was fine. He could just work his way back up the slats with his hands, and he would eventually slide back onto the floor. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be faster. He’d hardly started when he felt familiar rough-edged hands on his hips and he was ungraciously pulled back upright. As his blood stopped pooling in his head, he beheld Pirianus standing there, frowning as always. That is, until Caladea showed him something on her phone, and he cracked a tiny blue-edged smile.

“Thanks,” Thade said with zero gratitude, pulling up his stupid sweatpants. Before he could escape these two chucklefucks, though, Caladea turned her phone on him, and he was met with a photo of himself stranded over the rail, his panicked face looking through the slats, and his hairy asscrack surrounded by ironic hearts and sparkles. Across the top was the word PARKOUR flanked with party poppers and flames.

“Great, thank you,” he said with a fake smile. It should have been funny. He should have been laughing—he could take a joke at his expense any day of the week—but instead he felt his cheeks burning. “I’ll get that put on my calling cards.”

He didn’t look at her or Pirianus as he walked away.

#it WAS an accident however. this did not stop her from taking the opportunity #this one actually made me feel kinda bad for him. because yeah normally he would laugh it off and be fine #in fact if Caladea had managed to get him back up onto the floor he would have been howling about that picture #“no put a clown emoji on my face. yes I promise not to fake parkour again” (this is a lie but it will be less dangerous next time)#that's really what she intended. Caladea is not a mean-spirited person #and shouldn't he have been able to see Pirianus's little smile and be fine anyway? but he knows Pirianus doesn't actually like him #and this otherwise hilarious situation is pouring piles of salt in that wound #so anyway I think Thade has spent most of the last thirteen years pining after someone who will not let him in in the slightest #so he laughs it off and is “fine” with it but this is going to be an absolute powder keg when Kiatcarmen dies #(on that note do you think their theme song is Total Eclipse of the Heart)#Marcus's polycule: tearful heartfelt reunion #Minaya's polycule: trying to hold it together through the funeral and coronation #Kiatcarmen's polycule: just two guys. fighting in the hallway. their husband and wife are ignoring them #(Marcus's polycule is betting on whether they're going to wrestle each other in the hallway tbh)#c: Thade #c: Caladea #c: Pirianus #wip: iecunem #rose writ #thade adventures #rose brambles

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asheanon · 9 months

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Kuja and Sal MerAU.

— For @mahkohime

From: Ask Box Writing Prompt Game

📖 It's Story Time... (And some music to accompany!)

The tour would not end there, no. Wherever "there" was.

As the two denizens of the deep descended down the corridor, they were soon accompanied by familiar faces (the term "faces" being used rather loosely, in this instance.)

Pitch black, furnished with large, luminescent pearl-like orbs partly obscured by the brims of their pointed hats, the cephalopod-shaped masses reappeared. They slunk around them, minding the various fins and features of the two in the process. Akin to nautiluses, they swam with their sharp chapeaus leading the way, point first. It was hard to say whether they truly threatened to impale or gently poke whoever and whatever may impede them, however... after all, what were those dapper duds of theirs even made of? She certainly didn't know. Curious things; though she had come to retain some information on them by now, Sal still found herself puzzling over aspects of their existence.

In time, the Mer and these tenebrous "creatures of servitude" (as they were often "affectionately" referred to here) came to a halt before a large entryway. They swarmed around the doors, dexterous tentacles finding purchase wherever they may, slowly pushing them open.

A panoply of antique treasures soon appeared before them. Rays of sunlight, warped by the motions of the sea, filtered through the windows, casting an animated array of warm light upon the scene. Most all that lie within glistened with splendor. It was an art gallery, rich in culture. And, unsurprisingly, it was just as sumptuous as the rest of the aquatic estate.

Basking in the limelight of his possessions amidst their big debut, Kuja swerved around, facing her. Crossing paths with the sun's rays, the shimmer of his silver scales cascaded down the length of his tail as it followed him.

“Splendid, is it not?” He certainly put the "extra" in "extravagant."

Sal nodded in response, little more. There was an initial silence as she drifted slowly into the room, studying its contents with care.

Thankfully, he was no stranger to her thoughtful bouts of silence by now. There were times previous where it came off strangely unsettling, despite her often warm and gentle demeanor. Even in its familiarity, however, he still had his moments of uncertainty.

He stole a glance, studying her as her eyes continued to traverse the treasures within. After taking her time to observe many a detail, at last, she spoke.

"There are so many years of so many different lives here. Countless intricacies of creative minds and dreams made manifest. Unique, yet unified by the nature of artistic pursuit."

A small sigh debuted as an intermission between lines. Her feelings felt to be ineffable in this instance, but an attempt to translate them was made nonetheless.

"It's beautiful. And a lot to take in, when you really think about it."

There it was. Magnificent. With the spectacle thoroughly lauded, the grin the noble Mer bore swelled with pride, dazzling and oddly ingenuous for a man of his class. Perhaps it had something to do with who was doing the lauding today.

It was then that Sal noticed it. Amidst all the sparkle, shine and tales yet divined, there was one particular artifact that caught her eye. Carefully and without sparing another word, she navigated past the still-gloating merman, swimming down to a portion of the room.

Sure enough, she had spied a mirror. Her eyes met with their own reflection before lingering elsewhere. Intricate designs danced down the frame that contained it, telling stories she would never know. Though, there was one she may be able to glean from it...

The pad of her thumb met with her ring, lightly rubbing at it. It was the ring that could most always be found upon the index finger of her right hand. The Wayfarer's Ring. She entertained the thought of trying to use it here... not now, but at a later date, perhaps...

"Ah, yes... a personal favorite. Procured from the depths."

Her musings were interrupted by her fellow Mer as he appeared behind her. Of course this was a personal favorite.

Briefly, Sal humored herself with the addition of said thought into the thought pool as she continued to study the mirror. Inadvertently, her eyes met with the reflection of his in the process. The moment was fleeting... as it often proved to be with her.

"I too can't help but to stare sometimes..."

Suddenly, she felt something softly graze her hips. Hands, cradling her; arms gently wrapping themselves around her waistline.

A wave of uncertainty washed over her, head falling as she peered into an empty space somewhere upon the floor. However, her eyes soon returned to the mirror, meeting with the reflected gaze of her elegant... "friend." Or whatever he was now, really. His eyes were set upon her parallel image.

They idled before the mirror, motionless, spare the gentle sway of staying afloat. Cerulean irises locked with bright celadon. For better and for worse, it was a moment that felt to be frozen in time.

Softly, he hummed to himself. She could see his eyes wandering, landing somewhere just off the mark for eye contact.

"Surely, to be forced to hide such beauty is a sin."

It was as if her heart sank - or she was stricken by some other manner of poetic interpretation of a troublesome reaction. Either way, claimed by unease, she knew exactly what he was referring to. This time, a sigh of a more weary nature escaped her. It was not the first of its kind in relation to the soon-to-be subject.

"This close to the surface, it's necessary."

"Not here, though." One of his hands was drawn up. Lightly, it brushed her back before finding its way to the topic of discussion: those long, delicate tentacles of hers, normally sprouting from the base of her head.

Today, they hid beneath white and gold ornamentation, wrapped in a dark azure silk. The fabric bore silver embroidery and flecks of white; designs that appeared as abstract mimicry of the deepest depths of the sea and sky. Her hair had been braided and interwoven within the wrapping rather artfully.

Though all was bound and tucked away beneath such adornments, its glow could not be contained. Those who looked upon it knew the truth, there was no denying it. She was an Abyssal. An Α Abyssal who refused to cut it all away and medically suppress the regrowth. She could bind it, but could never part with her heritage, as some of her kind had chosen to.

She was not the only Abyssal entity present, however...

"You needn't hide who you are from me, my dear." Though elegant and persuasive as ever, what was coming to be commonplace commentary continued to fill the air - or water, rather. Here's to another day of this song and dance of theirs... A finger traced the beginnings of the intricate wrapping of her headdress; its claw dipping into a space between the ivory and lapis blue silk, tugging lightly.

"Don't." The mermaid's tone was less restrained. Firm.

Reflexively, Kuja laughed to himself. It was more of a titter, really... but no matter! "Shall I cast it again, then?"

Just like her, many mysteries of the Abyss intertwined with his DNA. Though, he was an Abyssal of a different make. A Ψ Abyssal. Much like others of his ilk, he possessed the faculty for what most of the world(s) populations had come to interpret as "magic." And such sorcery had its fair share of workarounds when it came to... hazards, such as herself. Or at least in theory.

With an eloquent wave of the hand, a shimmer of light manifested, scintillae forming all around the prodigal Mer before coating his body. Another barrier spell.

"Better?" Fetching as he made his conviction out to be, even so, he was met by silence. Silence and an utterly unmoved expression on Sal's part.

"There is room for error." She then answered. "I've seen it."

"Not of my aptitude."

"Not yet."

One counter met by another. Classic. He let out another light chuckle before humming to himself again.

Ah, if only she knew he simply wished to help! This was for more than his benefit. It truly was! To offer her the scarce safe haven to justly and freely be. Existing in this near-perpetual hiding of one's self for the sake of social standard and the safety of others grew tiresome, surely. In ways, he would know.

Motivated by the reminder, he now found himself particularly intent upon this pursuit today. His eyes narrowed, dignified, yet baleful in their determination. "I survived you once already..."

Once more, he then dared to close the distance between them, their questionable proximity resumed. Looming over her shoulder and her clothed tendrils, he peered into the mirror, regarding her likeness and empyrean beauty as she stared his own down with a... vehemency.

There was a chance they never would have met had he not stepped in. Perhaps she would have been consumed by the Ω that now swarmed and multiplied in the Abyss. Despite her concerns, his point was not lost on her.

Reminded once more of the matter, her gaze fell, the furrow of her brow growing more apparent. It was like a disease, spreading and taking hold of their world, now. What had disrupted that balance? Could it be fixed? Would they have to evacuate this entire planet one day, if not? What could she do right now?

"I speak not only of your kind, but you."

Doing her best to dismiss that particular branch of inner turmoil, she was brought back to the more immediate one. Her eyes returned to his reflection.

"I rescued you. Handled you. Cared for you."

Yet again, she contemplated him and his insistence as he spoke. The remains of the intensity of which she mulled over previous thoughts seemed to leave a stain, however...

It was in that moment that Kuja was reminded just how sharp, yet hypnotic her gaze was. There was starlight cradled within her eyes. He could swear by it. Little did she know, the silence which fell between them was due in part to those radiant irises stealing his words away.

"... Couldn't you trust me to do so again?" For but a moment, anyway. His voice fell to a softer note as he managed to recover. The smile which painted his lips was just as beguiling as it ever was. And the nebulous shades of anxiety she bestowed upon him at times such as these would be his secret to keep yet another day.

Whatever little studies and "science projects" he had stashed away certainly spoke of his experience, but it was not enough for her. She would always have her reservations. There was always a chance to be taken with these things. Which, it was a chance he was clearly willing to take time and time again, of course, but her...?

Talk stagnated yet again. Time inched forward at a slow...

"... If you experience any burning or numbness, no matter how little, stop."

Finally, What sounded uncannily like the beginnings of a warning label left her mouth. They still bore a rigid inflection, but...

"Regardless of your confidence. Regardless of how well informed you may be. Just stop and back away. I'll rebind it."

... She was ultimately granting him permission to proceed.

"Okay?"

Delightfully surprised she would actually indulge him for once, of course, he was more than willing to oblige!

"As you wish, mon étoile." The request was met by a rather deft reply.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. This venture would be undergone merely to see what could be ventured, Sal supposed. Who knew what there truly was to gain from letting a wealthy fanatic inspect you more closely... maybe it would be more than just a spectacle of vulnerability or an oddly erogenous experience. Maybe she'd learn something? You never know.

Drawing in a deep breath in attempts to help settle some of the disquietude, she observed him as he began to carefully unfurl her ribbon-bound locks...

For those curious about the hair stuff MerSal has going on, I actually scribbled out a bit of a concept to help me write it...

It's scribbly. Design could definitely be improved upon later, but for now, I figured that'd do well enough! 🎨 For those who may be wondering "can she manipulate those tentacle-y hair bits, even when they're all wrapped up?" Yes. She absolutely can. The metal bit at the end wasn't intended to be a weapon, but I do think it'd be pretty badass if it was sharp enough to be one, now! 🗡️

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wistfulphantom · 3 months

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i made this painting some time around 2020 during like the middle of lockdown. Its acrylic paint and canvas (before i discovered the almighty posca markers..!). I reaaaally wish i still had the physical copy of this, but alas its pretty much gone. But who knows, maybe its floating around my things somewhere..?

#i made this bc i was inspired by a thing i was watching on tv #about wild hogs in texas and how many there are and how dangerous they are as well #and i was like wow they just fuck ur shit up and laugh in ur face #so i thought it was kinda funny that a simple hog could almost ruin a human life 😭😆#my art #traditional art #small artist #original art #painting #small art blog

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byanyan · 1 year

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growing up, one of byan's staples as far as manipulating & fooling people, as well as otherwise traversing the harsh world around them, was pulling the wide-eyed innocent kid act. they've always had a talent for it, admittedly aided a lot by their big eyes and soft features, and for many years it was their main method of getting out of trouble and getting what they wanted.

...but it's not really a method they employ anymore. --don't get me wrong, if they feel like they can get away with it and gain something they're after by doing so, they absolutely will. they will always happily lie, cheat, and steal to benefit themself. unfortunately, it's just a lot harder for them to successfully pull off the innocent act these days - most people won't buy it as easily from a kid in their late teens, and their style of dress most days being more punk than the softer, cuter aesthetic they used to lean in to doesn't exactly help their case. if they think you look gullible enough though, and they can hide any of their more obvious tattoos or bruised knuckles at the time, they'll for sure flash you some big ol' deceptively pure and innocent looking doe eyes so you'll buy them a meal or give them your credit card number.

#literally just 🥺 at you #they've learned to use what they have to their advantage what can I say #the moment they get what they want though they drop the act and laugh at you as they walk away #just really rub it in your face so you know they aren't the pathetic creature you thought they were #back on my bullshit of thinking too much about really specific things at 4am don't mind me #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ HEADCANON ⋮ DANGER IN THE FABRIC OF THIS THING I MADE.

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bbqhooligan · 5 months

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go watch this even if you dont like asmr youre gonna like this guy i promise cuz i dont like asmr and even if you dont like guys youre gonna like this guy cuz i dont like guys either you get it

youtube

lesbian APPROVED hes the most beautiful man ive ever seen full stop

#mypost #asmr #HIS MOUTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i KNEW something was up when they animated miles morales laugh when he has his mask half up i was like HOW am i gonna #capture that mouth shape #as always im fixated on mouth+teeth combo #normal thing to be extremely interested in.#anyway this man has that shape. YOU BETTER BELIEVE IM USING HIM AS ART REF. BELIEVE IT #hes so gorgeoussss damn #ngl i dont like the flirting tone but id LOVE to tell him how beautifully sculpted his face his. bro let me speak to you no homo #hes so hottttttt hes got me wishing the asmr flirting wasnt bothering me mans got me wishing i could see him irl #yeeeeeesh #what a pretty boy WITH charisma to match hes deadly hes on dangerous levels of hotness ngl #this is an atomic weapon #Youtube

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duaghterofstories · 2 years

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One time I thought of a really funny byler fanfic where it's entirely canon complient, except that just days after the Byers moved, Mike meets some random girl who seems super weird, and it turns out she's a time/dimension traveler from either just plain 2022 or our world 2022 (That was never determined, hut one fo the two. Also, it didn't have to be 2022, I just thought of it in 2022, so...). I called her Brittney

Anyway, they become great friends somehow, and Brittney thinks it would be hilarious if he just... didn't tell the Byers anything about this.

Also, she continues operating as if it's her time/dimension, and she isn't ashamed. She's openly queer, uses her tech, and is just your average, depressed, Gen Z kid with crippling anxiety and an ao3 addiction. Everyone is too scared to bully her about any of these things because she has demonstrated multiple times that she is excellent with many weapons, including many types of polearms+a scythe and crossbows, and one of her writing presontations was a detailed story where a girl killed someone and then detailed her exact method for hiding the body and getting away with it etc.

Anyway, she's just kind of chilling with the Party in Hawkins for S4, and Eddie lives, but then, the Byers come back and everyone kind of... assumes that Mike told them about Brittney.

He listens to them talk about her and Mike, and assumes Mike replaced him or smth. He didn't, Brittney just figured out he was gay in .5 seconds, attached to him, and now they're both queer pining messes and she knows he likes WIll and stuff, she's not trying to replace anyone, just exist.

And one day they crack and ask who Brittney is and they're super confused, but they take them to meet her, and she immediatly calls Will gay, insults his hair, and the gets confused when he gets hurt and offended and shit.

And then Mike walks in, and she immediately is like: "This is your type? Honestly, I thought you at least had some decorum. Like, honestly, you couldn't like someone who at least looks good."

If someone could write that, that's be great.

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