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donnerpartyofone · 18 days ago

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You won't read this if you know what's good for you.

There's this principle I can never remember the name of, it has like a "Murphy's law" type of name, and it works like this:

ME: I'm hungry. YOU: But there are starving children in India! ME: That is true, but it doesn't make me not-hungry.

I think about this whenever I have to contend with the topic of work and career, because right away I start thinking about the people who are really full of potential and ability, but they're surrounded by people who tell them they'll never amount to anything, and sometimes this treatment directly causes them not to amount to anything. So I feel stupid complaining about being surrounded by people who maintain totally disproportionate expectations of me because doing so makes them feel like they're being supportive somehow, but you know, just because I don't have the WORST problem, that doesn't mean I don't have a problem.

Roughly half the jobs I've ever had, I got because somebody knew somebody who took pity on me; roughly the other half I got because the employer was so totally desperate that they didn't really have a choice. I spent about the last ~15 years very actively job hunting, and I did everything the conventional wisdom tells you to do; I even saw a career counselor, and tried to learn a trade, neither of which got me anywhere. I applied to everything that I thought I was remotely capable of doing, regardless of whether I felt under- or overqualified. After a very, very long period of being scarily unemployed, I finally got a really mindless bottomfeeder writing job (my chosen field) that I had to quit after a few months because I couldn't keep up with the demand, besides which nothing I wrote was successful. Many people in my life responded to this by trying to tell me that I was too good for this job; they did not listen when I asked how I could be "too good" for something that was literally the only job I could find, and that I had to stop doing only because I wasn't good at it? Maybe they meant that I was too good for it in my soul or something, but I don't know how that's supposed to help me be a functional, self-sustaining adult. Also being told frank and unsubstantiated lies doesn't make me feel better, even if it's somehow well-meant. It makes me feel like the people think I'm too stupid to notice that what they're saying isn't true -- which makes it extra difficult when they also refuse to acknowledge that, based on my ongoing problems, I am manifestly, literally stupid, but that's a different topic.

[Actually, a useful anecdote here is that one time after months of trying to make an important loved comprehend my struggles with basic competence and intelligence, which seemed to make him angrier and angrier, he finally said, sarcastically, as if it were ridiculous: "WHAT, do you want people to AGREE WITH YOU?" And then I realized that my problems seem so absurd to normal people that most of them genuinely think that I'm just fishing for compliments, that I WANT to be contradicted and misunderstood and called a liar. Which is incredible, and painful, but seems to be true. It also seems to be true that part of friendship is just allowing people to say hurtfully confusing and untrue things to you, because doing so makes them feel like a good person.]

So then I got a part-time barista job at sort of a lower-end cafe; I persistently showed up and begged them to let me work there for months before they started giving me shifts. At first I was deeply relieved; then I found out what the people in my life thought about this. The nicest person who addressed me about it spoke to me in an uncomfortably delicate tone, as if we were meeting for the first time after I was humiliated in a public scandal, and he wasn't sure how to be both kind and honest with me. Then my boss at one of my dumb little labor-of-love hobby gigs said to me in horror, "Are you REALLY working at a coffee shop?," and then started fantasizing about what he could do to make the hobby pay me money (which would not ever be remotely enough to live on). Later on when I vented to a friend about this experience, he responded with a story about someone he knows who is "prolifically creative" but has to work a coffee job to make rent, and I guess she had some bad experience with rude customers that made her feel ashamed...and I don't know if my friend had really developed a point to make before he started saying this to me, but the message I received was "It's ok to serve coffee AS LONG AS you are a capable and talented artist who is richly productive and ambitious." Which definitely does not apply to me and did not make me feel better. It seems like everyone thinks it is alright to be a worker -- they just wouldn't want to have one for a friend.

I was going to go into a litany of other encounters I've had with people who seem to believe that they care about me, but who can't think of anything nice to say that doesn't amount to "You are way too good for the very few things that your extremely limited abilities and intelligence have allowed you to achieve, even with years and years of trying as hard as you can! No matter what, never believe that your experiences are real -- you are obviously much better than the apparently-unspeakable loser who stands before us today." But I think I'm too exhausted to get into all that, and anyway I'm only writing this down for my own paltry benefit because recent experiences with therapy only made things worse, and I'm starting to get the message that it's actually cruel to tell friends that you have certain kinds of chronic problems, because it's painful for them to say anything other than "You don't really have the problem, the chronic difficulties that materially affect your real circumstances are all in your mind because secretly you are amazing -- you just don't realize that you are wonderful and brilliant because you are also a delusionally negative quitter." I don't know why it's so hard for people to just let you be the expert on your own life and say, "That sounds tough, I'm sorry you're going through that," or to let you be happy with your minor wins even if they would be embarrassing losses for a normal person. And now for some reason this diatribe is reminding me of a little manlet douchebag who came into the cafe the other day with a tee shirt that said "I <3 GASLIGHTING," and I thought about refusing to serve him on that basis alone, but it turned out that I am just smart enough to know not to lose my extremely hard-won menial part-time job over it. I guess everyone is right about me, I'm secretly a brilliant genius who can do anything! I should quit that job right now and throw everything I have at pursuing my dreams...again. I'm sure it will work out this time, for some reason.

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sunnysam-my · 1 year ago

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One of the funniest things in Criminal Minds to me was the writers poor attempt at making Reid look super smart. I say poor because, if you know anything about what they claim Spencer can do, you know why it's ridiculous.

1. Speed Reading.

It's a unique skill Spencer has that's used often through out the show. He claims he can read 20,000 words per minute. The thing is, the way he does it makes no sense.

First of all, when speed reading, you pay the price of comprehending the text. It is suggested by experts that speed-reading is most useful to those who need "to skim a large amount of material or need to improve their study skills" and less useful to those who read "highly technical material that requires careful study of each sentence". A lot of what Spencer reads is exactly that.

Second of all, on a normal book page, about 250-300 words fit on a page. Unless my math is incorrect, if he can read 20000 w/m then he can read 333.333 per second. He can read a book page in less than a second.

Even if my math is wrong, the average word count for adult fiction and non-fiction is between 70,000 to 120,000 words. The average word count in a book is between 60,000 and 100,000 words. He can read a 80,000 words long book in 4 minutes. He could read the entirty of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (~75,000 words) in less than that.

2. Eidetic Memory

Again, I'm not really sure the writers even know what that means. Eidetic memory, also (incorrectly) known as total recall and photographic memory, is the ability to recall an image from memory with high precision, at least for a brief period of time, after seeing it only once.

The key words here are for a brief period of time. Unlike with photographic memory, it's a vivid afterimage that lingers. Additionally the memories often contain minor errors, including information that was not present in the original visual stimulus.

It's a very complicated and interesting matter, you can look into it more, but basically the writers just used it as an ass excuse to give Spencer perfect memory.

3. The Star Puzzle

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I genuinely laughed at this scene. The Star Puzzle is literally a beginner-medium level puzzle. I have that star, I can see only 2, maybe 3 ways you can make a mistake while assembling it. My mom, who doesn't do those regularly like I do, only needed 15 minutes to figure out all on her own. The hard part is physically putting it together, because, until it's complete, nothing is holding the pieces together and they fall through your hands.

Noticed another thing? The way she describes it? "It's basically impossible to figure out. You have to put all the pieces back together to form a star." "It's basically impossible to do, because you have to take all those pieces and put them exactly…-" Like, yeah? That's how puzzles work??? Congratulations? All puzzles work like this. You have to put them together in the only correct order or solved them using the only solution. It's rare for puzzles to have more than one solution, that's kinda the point of them. And yeah, you can cheat usually, like with the star if you assemble it loosely and jam the last piece, but that's not the same.

And the thing is, there are harder versions of this, but no, they had to go with the identical 6 pieces. This just makes her look like an idiot.

4. His geeky overreactions were very reasonable, actually.

TBH I stopped watching CM a while ago, so don't remember as many situation as I used to, but I remember Phantasmagoria scene. Maybe this is more of geeky pet peeve of mine, but whatever.

Reid is 100% underselling Phantasmagoria here. It's not just a horror theatre play with a bit of science magic to spook the audience. They literally invented holograms for this.* Our modern image of a ghost? It's all thanks to Phantasmagoria which used live holograms** so the actors playing ghost could appear to be half transparent and floating.

You can still think that's not that cool, but wait, there's more. Other than that it used projects and many other 'magic tricks' to not only bring the monsters to life, so you can see them, but also feel them. Phantasmagoria used many special effects outside of visual illusion to make you feel cold winds, smells blood e.t.c. That's better than any other movie you can go to, especially since we're talking about reenactment, which use improved technology. Although you won't get drugged drinks before going in nowadays, so count that as a win or loss. On top of that, reenactments of Phantasmagoria are rare and for many this may be the only chance in their life to see it.

It's kinda like a walk-through haunted house, except you don't walk and there's a plot. The scene shows Spencer as some weird geek for being excited, which sucks. In general I could talk about how awful the teammates are to him half of the time, but that's not my biggest problem here. We as an audience are meant to find Reid's excitement and knowledge as lame and nerdy, but he's not even overreacting. That's a very tamed reaction when you invite your friends to possibly one in a lifetime chance to see this amazing horror magic, horror, theatre play.

*For horror shows in general, a bit earlier than Phantasmagoria, but it gave birth to it.

**Pepper's ghost isn't technically holographic, but you get it. Most people call it that anyway.

#I don't really mind them making Spencer a super genius #sure it's ableist #but half of this show is fiction anyway #with the amount of misinformation in it #'profilers' literally don't exist and FBI had to add that info on their website because of this show #rant i guess #spencer reid #ableism #criminal minds #cm spencer reid

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stoneheart-paramour · 3 months ago

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part personal, part telestrata log

got my gall bladder taken out yesterday, so i'm now in recovery from that. gonna be tough for a while, but today has been better at least. but, that's not what i'm here to write about.

this was my third ever surgery, and i don't really count the first two for different reasons, so i went in with only the things my family/friends could think of to tell me in advance. other than that, i really didn't know what to expect.

general anesthesia had me feeling like i'd just fast-forwarded through time. one moment, i was in a room. the next, i was waking up somewhere else. i didn't even really comprehend that it was all over until i started feeling the pain. but before that, while i was still groggy and barely able to open my eyes or perceive the world around me, something else occupied my mind.

every person who i perceived near me - even if i didn't see them, even when i had no idea who they were - all triggered the same thought in my head: i love you. i don't really know why, but that just kept popping up, in response to every voice or shadow, just... i love you. only once i woke up more and the pain crashed over me did this stop, but i didn't forget that this happened.

i bring this up in the context of a "telestrata log" because it's resolved an internal conflict i've been grappling with: do i believe in the thesis/conclusion of the narrative i'm writing? do i actually agree with the characters' philosophies, or am i just a cynic playing pretend? in the present, living in america as a queer disabled afab person, things are grim and scary. there are people who want to do me harm and now have the power to do so. it's hard to embrace love and compassion and forgiveness when people like that exist, yet i've also long believed that at our human core, most people would choose to do good things for each other and the world. on the whole, deep down inside, humanity is good. i wanted to continue believing this, and i still contend there is much evidence to support it, but it's just been really hard.

so, having this experience, only conscious and cognizant enough to recognize there are people around me, where my first and only thoughts were just... love? i think i have my answer. i still love the world and the people in it, even the strangers, even the ones who have nothing to do with me. and you, dear reader, if you are indeed reading this, that includes YOU. i love you too.

love is the point. love is the solution. love is the antidote to the poison of hatred. that's the story i'm writing here in this fic, and we will not be cracking half-smiles saying, "i know it's corny, but-" no, it's not corny or cheesy, we will not roll our eyes or be cynically ironic about it. radical sincere love only in this house. love is the point.

anyway, that's basically it. if everything goes well and my road to recovery is swift and conclusive, i hope to finally get back to working on this project in earnest, or more specifically, getting back writing the actual chapters. i've been diligently keeping myself busy with hiveword plotting and further narrative refinements/fleshing out backstories/patching plot holes/etc etc. keeps it all fresh in my mind so i don't lose track of what i was doing, and i can ensure my passion doesn't die out. but, until then... i love you, dear reader, and i hope you are well <3

#paramour rambles #telestrata log

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pawsitivelymiraculous · 4 years ago

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Le parfum de l'amour

This is the @maribat-secret-santa-2020 piece for @saltandfluff I am so sorry for being late!

Anyway, I will be using the quantic kids, but you don't necessary have to know them to understand this fic.

The only have to know that "Melodie" is Allegra's nickname.

Ao3

It was always a bad idea to try to mess with fate. Everyone knew this. Allegra knew this, but she didn't care. Not when it was taking a toll on her sanity.

There were only so many times a person could see two literal soulmates walk past each other before they decided to take matters into their own hands.

So that's what she did.

Or well, was going to do once she could convince her friends to help her out.

"I don't know, Mel." Allan rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "These things take time you know? You cannot rush it." He glanced at the corkboard that was behind Allegra and winced, it was going to be impossible to talk her out of the crazy plan.

On the corkboard, there were two pictures. One was a selfie of Marinette Dupain-cheng. A twenty-year-old who was a regular at the café where Allegra and Claude worked at. After chatting with her in the mornings, Allegra decided to adopt the girl, and she introduced her to the rest of the group. She quickly became friends with Allan and surprisingly enough, with Felix as well.

The second picture was a rather blurry photo that was clearly taken from afar. You could sort of make out the image of Timothy Drake. The sleep-deprived twenty-one-year-old who had started going to the café for about a month. All the employees loved him because he never failed to amuse everyone with his half-asleep antics.

The one thing that both pictures had in common was a coffee cup.

On Marinette's collarbone, there was a small tattoo-like mark that looked like a coffee cup. The same one that was on Tim's wrist. Soul marks . Granted, they looked a bit plain compared to most people's soul marks, but in Allegra's eyes, they were the excuse she needed to get them together.

Allegra had shipped her two favorite customers long before she noticed their soul marks. But now that she knew they were soulmates . Well, she was not going to rest until they finally met.

"I'm not trying to rush things!" Allegra insisted. "I just want to push them in the right direction."

Allan looked at her, doubtful. "That's basically the same thing. Plus do actually think that," he squinted to read the list of plans that was tacked on the corkboard. "'Locking them inside a room with no escape' is merely pushing them in the right direction? 'Cause I think that sounds more like a hostage situation."

Allegra glared at him. "You know what? I don't need your help. Claude will help me. Right, Claude?"

Claude looked at her with wide eyes. "Oh no no no. Sorry Melodie but I can't."

"Uh, I'm sorry what?" Allegra blinked. It was very out of character for Claude to turn down the opportunity to help her with one of her elaborate plans. Not to mention that in this case, they were doing it to help Marinette.

"Allegra," he said solemnly, "this is a destiny thing. We just can't interfere."

Allegra facepalmed. "You can't be serious."

Claude looked at her dead in the eye. "If we interfere we might end up," he leaned towards her and whispered " cursed"

"Oh give me a break." Allegra pushed Claude away. "Are you guys kidding me? This is Marinette we're talking about. You all can't possibly think that Marinette wouldn't want to meet her soulmate, and as her friends, we have to help her."

"I agree with Allegra."

Everyone spun around in surprise.

Felix rolled his eyes at his friends' incredulous expressions. "What? Marinette is my friend as well. Is it really that shocking that I want to see her happy?" The three of them nodded. He ignored them. "Besides, I've heard Marinette ramble about soulmates nonstop, so it's clear that meeting hers is what she would want."

Allegra was the first to react "See guys? Even Felix agrees with me!"

Felix huffed. "Yes, but I also think that your plans are ridiculous and ineffective."

"Ouch"

"I think the best thing we can do to help is to get them to interact and we-"

"That's literally what my plans are for!" Allegra interrupted.

Claude crossed his arms. "And what do you mean by 'we'? I haven't agreed to do anything."

Shooting both of them a glare, Felix continued. "- can do that without needing to kidnap them. We simply have to make it so that they have no other choice but to sit at the same table at the café. You all know how friendly Marinette is, it will only be a matter of time before they start talking."

There was a beat of silence.

"That… that might actually work," Allan admitted. "Soulmates are naturally drawn to each other so once they actually have a conversation we won't have to do anything else. They can figure out that they're soulmates by themselves." He paused and then chuckled. "We'll just have to push them in the right direction."

"But how are we going to get them in the café at the same time?" Allegra asked. "Tim always comes in right after Mari has left."

"Pft that's easy!" Claude exclaimed. "Just tell her that you need help with something and that you'll need for her to stay a while longer at the café. Since Mari doesn't have early classes on Wednesday she'll agree and- oh!" Claude suddenly slapped his hand over his mouth as his eyes widened with horror. "This does not mean that I'm helping." He mumbled from underneath his hand.

Allan laughed. "I think you just did."

"Looks like someone's going to end up cursed." Allegra singed songed. "Not even ladybug is going to be able to help you with that bad luck that's to come." She teased.

Claude pouted. "Haha, laugh all you want." He then looked up at the corkboard and grimaced. "But you're right, there's no turning back now. What do you need me to do?"

Allegra clapped her hands in glee.

"Okay so here's the plan."

~♡~♡~♡~

Just like Claude had predicted, it was incredibly easy to convince Marinette to stay at the café. All that was left to do was orchestrate everything just so that the two soulmates had to sit at the same table.

It was easier said than done but after enlisting more people to help out, they were able to make sure that the café was full for that morning.

Everything was going according to plan…

Until…

"WHERE. IS. TIM?"

Claude looked around. "He hasn't arrived yet?"

"No!" Allegra cried. She glanced down at her watch and winced. They were running out of time.

Claude frowned. "And you know, it would have been nice if Marinette hadn't chosen today to wear a turtleneck."

Allegra couldn't help but agree. Sure, Marinette looked amazing with the turtleneck and skirt outfit but did she really have to wear it today? When they needed for her to show off her soul mark?

It was like the universe was against them.

But finally, Allegra heard a tinkling sound at the door. She spun around praying that it was Tim.

And it was!

He looked more tired than usual as he stumbled around trying to find a seat.

Allegra watched as Tim danced around the tables that were being occupied just as he was about to take a seat.

One after the other until finally, a good push later, he ended up at Marinette's table.

~♡~♡~♡~

Tim was too tired to deal with this.

All he wanted was to sit down, have a couple of cups of coffee at his favorite coffee shop and finally be awake enough to continue investigating the moth guy.

But apparently, that was too much to ask because almost all the tables were full.

"Sorry man," Claude whispered as he guided a couple and motioned them to sit at the table that Tim had beelined for.

"Oh, actually I'm waiting for Adam." Felix had said when Tim asked if he could sit with him. Which was strange since Adam had said that he was waiting for Felix when he asked him.

But he could barely comprehend what they were saying, so he was not conscious enough to complain.

Tim continued on his journey when he felt someone push him from behind. In his half-asleep haze, Tim lunged at the chair that was in front of him hoping that it would break his fall.

It took him a few seconds to recover. He wanted nothing more than to pass out right then and there, splayed out on a coffee shop chair as everyone stared at him wondering if he was drunk.

He too wondered if he was drunk, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so if he was drunk, he was not going to figure it out on his own.

When he finally looked up, his eyes met with a pair of beautiful bluebell eyes.

~♡~♡~♡~

Marinette watched as a guy stumbled around the café until finally flopping onto the other chair at her table.

It was clear that he was sleep-deprived. She had seen enough videos that her evil friends had taken when she was in a similar state to know the poor guy probably hadn't slept at all for the last week or so.

Marinette wanted nothing more than to drag the guy to the nearest bed or couch and wrap him up in a bunch of blankets. Just because she didn't comprehend the term "self-care" for herself didn't make Marinette any less of a "mom friend"

But she had to remind herself that she didn't know the guy, so it might be considered kidnapping to drag someone somewhere against their will.

Too bad.

The best she could do was offer him her own coffee.

"Hey, I think you need this more than I do at the moment." She said, pushing the drink his way as he stood up.

He mumbled something that could be interpreted as a "thank you" and eagerly took the drink. His eyes lit up when the heavenly liquid touched his tongue.

It was almost miraculous how quickly the caffeine took effect.

Actually, it was Marinette may or may not have mixed a little concoction she made with Tikki that helped her when she stayed up late with her regular coffee.

The guy blinked. "This. Is. Incredible."

Marinette laughed "Yeah, it's what I always get. Though you still look like you need to sleep."

"Yeah, yeah whatever." He waved her off. "But seriously, what is this called? I need a gallon of this."

"Sorry," Marinette said sheepishly "but I'm afraid that's a secret, you know, I'm kind of everyone's favorite, so I get the miracle coffee." Okay so that was a lie but what else could she say?

The guy pouted. Marinette had to admit that he looked adorable.

"Well, then I'm sure you can get me some then... um"

"Marinette."

"Ah, nice to meet you, coffee goddess, I'm Tim."

Marinette's cheeks heated up. "Uh, coffee goddess? Shouldn't they be the coffee gods and goddesses?" She pointed at Allegra, Claude, and the others.

"Nah, you have blessed me with this amazing coffee. Claude didn't even help me in my time of need."

"You know Claude?" Marinette asked, surprised.

"Yep, I've been coming here since I arrived in Paris, so I've gotten to know Allegra and Claude a bit."

"That's funny, I've never seen you. And I come here every day." Marinette said.

"Huh, that's weird. I've never seen you either. "

And from there they kept talking. Like they were old friends and not just acquaintances. Marinette found out that Tim had come from Gotham city. That he was in Paris because of business. Meanwhile, Tim learned that Marinette was an aspiring fashion designer and a college student who was close friends with almost everyone from the café.

Hours passed and the two were still deep in conversation completely oblivious to the crowd that had gathered behind the cafe's counter to watch the soulmates.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this before." Adrien, who had arrived after Tim, whispered to his cousin.

"I was under the impression that your father needed your assistance for the upcoming fashion show. I was not about to ask my dear uncle Gabe if I could steal you so that we could set up our friend and his future competitor, Marinette Dupain-cheng, with her soulmate."

Adrien hated to admit that he had a point. "Fine, but can you at least catch me up to date? Who is he?"

"He's a rich guy from Gotham city. He's pretty cool though he's basically Marinette when it comes to coffee which is honestly kinda scary now that I'm seeing them interact." Allegra whispered.

Adrien looked down to look at her. "Alright, I guess I'm going to have to do my own research since you guys are useless. What's his job? Why is he rich? If his from Gotham then who knows, maybe this guy is actually dangerous and wants to take Marinette as ransom for-"

"Oh please Adrien, stop with your theatrics. Do you honestly think that I would allow this if he was dangerous?" Felix interrupted.

"I mean-"

Felix glared at him.

"No?"

Felix sighed. "Timothy Drake is Marinette's soulmate, and I can assure you that he's clean. So don't worry about Marinette."

Allegra shushed the cousins. "Guys, I'm trying to listen here you know?"

"Um, you could probably hear better from up here" Felix nodded in agreement.

"Thanks, Adrien, but I don't want to risk Marinette seeing me and then remembering about time and stuff."

"Ah"

"Speaking of time, it's been years since I last ate, I'm hungry." Claude cut in.

"Claude! You're supposed to be with the customers!" Allegra whisper-shouted.

"Whoops."

~♡~♡~♡~

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. Marinette eventually remembered the reason she had stayed in the cafe. Not only that but when she looked at her watch she realized that she was running late for class.

After Marinette's rushed exit, Tim went back to investigating Hawkmoth. But while they were trying to concentrate on their own thing. Marinette with her class and Tim with his research they found themselves zoning out and thinking about each other.

It was strange, they had quite literally just met.

Why had they made such an impact on each other?

~♡~♡~♡~

It wasn't until Marinette was getting ready to go to bed that she found the answer.

"Tikki is… is that what I think it is." Marinette's voice trembled as she stared at her reflection on the mirror.

Tikki gasped. "Oh Marinette, I think it is!"

Staring back at her was her soul mark, which no longer was a regular coffee cup but rather a gorgeous cup with beautiful red flowers that surrounded a somewhat familiar symbol.

"But, how? I mean they're not supposed to change… right? And why?" Marinette's eyes widened. "Does this mean that I met my soulmate? Who is it?"

Tikki giggled, "You seriously don't know?"

"Umm no? Should I?" Tikki continued to giggle as her holder looked at her confused. "Who is it Tikki?"

"Oh Marinette, how many new people did you meet today?"

"Uh, I don't know? I mean surely I must've passed by lots of strangers in the street." Marinette panicked. "Oh no Tikki! What if one of them is my soulmate? I'll never find out who they are!"

"So you don't remember meeting anyone else?"

"I don't think so, well other than ohhh- "

"Exactly"

~♡~♡~♡~

Tim could not believe what he was seeing. Gone was the plain coffee cup he was used to seeing, the daily reminder of the fact that he was still painfully single, it now had an intricate flower pattern that surrounded a symbol.

He recognized that symbol.

After weeks of researching and tailing the red Parisian heroine, he knew that it was the Ladybug symbol.

But why was it on his soul mark?

Unless…

No, the heroine couldn't be his soulmate, Tim hasn't even officially met her. Nor had he even seen her today.

The only blue-eyed girl he had met was Marinette.

Marinette

No, it was impossible. Except it wasn't. Tim had only known the girl for a couple of hours, but he knew that Marinette would make a great heroine or vigilante.

But, he… he was probably hallucinating, right? Tim hadn't slept for weeks, so surely he was just seeing things and his soul mark was still a plain coffee cup and the Marinette conclusion was just wishful thinking.

Right?

Because otherwise, his first meeting with his soulmate was him acting like a sleep-deprived zombie and Tim could not allow that.

Well, one thing was for sure, he really needed to get some sleep.

~♡~♡~♡~

Three days.

It took three days for Marinette to find Tim.

She looked everywhere. The coffee shop, Le Grand Paris Hotel, the tourist areas, and when she was ladybug she looked down from all the rooftops trying to find him.

But he had vanished, leaving Marinette worried sick that he had either A. Gone back to Gotham B. Died or C. Been so horrified that she was his soulmate that he decided to move to a remote island and changed his name in hopes of never seeing her again.

Gosh, she was starting to sound like her fourteen-year-old self.

But finally, she saw him, sitting on a bench, not far from her own home, looking down at his wrist.

He looked at his wrist like it was some puzzle he needed to solve. Marinette also noticed that he looked a lot more refreshed, so he must've finally gotten some sleep.

Marinette cleared her throat. "Well, you've been a very hard person to find Mr. Drake."

Tim looked up. "Ma- Marinette!"

"We need to talk."

Tim nodded his mouth hanging wide open as he stared at her soul mark.

"How do you feel about coffee? There's a coffee shop that's not very far from here, I hear their coffee is divine.

~♡~♡~♡~

Bonus:

(this was going to be a scene on the fic but I didn't know how to add it but it has important info sooo)

*They are at the coffee shop*

Marinette: So you're red robin.

Tim: And you're Ladybug

Marinette: Should I be worried? Like doesn't this compromise our secret identities?

*Claude and Allegra appear with some pastries*

Claude: Yooo Marinette! So you found your soulmate! Crazy right? We totally didn't have anything to do with it!

*Allegra elbows him*

Claude: So uh, congratulations! I um feel happy for you.

*looks nervously at Allegra who is glaring at him*

Claude: Bummer about the soul mark though…

*Allegra keeps glaring*

~♡~♡~♡~ Permanent tag list ~♡~♡~♡~

Claude: What? It's just a plain white cup!

Bonus bonus:

(here's a bad doodle and my crappy handwriting)

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

@charme-de-malchan, @theatreandcomicfreak, @m3owww, @elliebelliegirl, @genevieve-the-demonologist, @vixen-uchiha, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @waffleyunsure, @technicallyburninggarden, @azuremayscarlet, @vroomtaka, @emimar7, @ichigorose, @maskedpainter, @art-is-hard-to-do-sorry

#maribat #timari #tim x marinette #maribat secret santa #ml x dc #mlb x dc #quantic kids #My writing #my trash writing #my art #my trash art

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antisociallilbrat · 4 years ago

Text

We're The Losers, And We Always Will Be Chp. 4

Read on Ao3

Chp. 3

Chp. 5

Summary: Two more losers join the group

A/N: You don't have to have seen Goosebumps 2 or Shazam to understand....I still haven't seen Goosebumps 2

“I’m just saying it would’ve made more sense to stop in Pennsylvania first. Now we’re having to double back there, wasting time and gas.”

At this point, Wendell had started just replying to Mike with a, “Mhm”. It was the fifth time Mike has said that after all. Mike was the one finding the most frustration with them going to New York first, and then turning around to go back to Pennsylvania to only have to turn around again to go back to Maine. “I have my reasons Mike,” was all Wendell had to rebuttal the first time he complained. When Mike had looked to Jacob, who was sitting up front with Wendell, for some type of agreement with him, Jacob just shrugged his shoulders, “It’s Wendell’s van, and Wendell's plan.”

Sonny is trying not to take it too personally that Mike is basically complaining about the fact that they picked him up in New York first before going to Pennsylvania to pick up the other three. He gets the the vibe that Mike is an unintentionally brash person.

It sounds like Mike has finally given up his complaining, his last little mumblings of how inefficient this was dying out, as he plugs in earbuds and looks out the window. Maybe Mike will take a nap Sonny wonders, he’s in travel clothes and they still have five hours till their next destination. He also looks exhausted like the other two.

Wendell is driving and humming softly to the music playing quietly on the radio, occasionally taking sips of an energy drink. Sonny gets the impression that Wendell has been the one driving the whole time. Wendell’s the only one out of the three that’s bothered to wear something besides sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, which is a little odd.

Sonny glances at the third passenger, who’s currently sitting in the front passenger seat. He’s now passed out against the door, and his hair is starting to look a little greasy. When Sonny first saw him, he instantly recognized him, even with the scars and cane. Surely the other two knew who he was, right? If they do, they don't seem bother by him.

Jacob was that kid all over the news a couple of years back, having been accused of killing some kid in his grade. He only remembers seeing him because his older sister thought Jacob was cute-looking. Gross. At least, if he remembers correctly, Jacob was found innocent. There was also that whole spiel about the wreck with his mother, that must be how he got the cane and scars. Jacob doesn't exactly seem like a killer in Sonny's opinion, but who knows, he's just met him. Were Jacob and him really friends in their past life? Did Sonny really have a past life? Apparently they all did and they were all friends?

It’s crazy to think about and it’s a little mind-numbing. He still can’t comprehend why he just agreed immediately to come with these guys. He had a great scholarship to a great college of science and technology too! He wants to be an electrical engineer, and he should be studying to get ahead this summer. Yet, when Wendell just showed up at his home and explained it (well some of it, he still had lots of questions but that will come later), he didn’t even think it over, he just agreed.

One quick bag packed later, and then he’s loading up in Wendell’s van outside his house, and meeting Mike and Jacob. When he met Mike, there was this feeling that something wasn’t quite right. He keeps looking over at Mike half expecting him to be wearing glasses, and he doesn’t quite know why.

Besides studying for school, he's really not leaving much at home. His mom won’t notice his absence until at least tomorrow, she’s working a double shift. His sister is off spending the summer with college friends, and it’s not like he has any friends of his own that will notice. Sam moved away two years ago and they haven’t kept in contact. It always kinda felt like Sam was just holding a place for someone. Or he figures now, someones.

He hasn’t had any friends for a while. His mom said he would make some at college, but she’s always at work so what does she really know about him? His sister just ignores him, too much of an ‘adult’ now to give her little brother the time of the day.

That’s probably part of the reason why he didn’t hesitate to agree to come. The prospect of having a friendship that’s so strong it surpasses all scientific logic? And not just with one person, but six? That’s really why he agreed so quickly. Whatever the ‘promise’ is can be dealt with when they get to Derry.

He’s still questioning the whole ‘reincarnated’ bit, but the other two seem to believe Wendell. Even Mike looks to be on board with the idea of it, and Sonny can tell that Mike is a very scientific person, a lot more so than him. He’ll do research when he gets to Derry, that’s his solution. If this all started there, hopefully once there, he can get some answers.

Sonny settles back into his seat and tries to settle himself. He’s shaking with anticipation, but for what? He guesses he’ll soon find out. Eventually, his mind tires out and he sees a flash of fiery red hair before he falls asleep.

“Hey, Sonny! Wake up, dude!”

He jerks awake at the sound of Wendell’s voice. “I’m awake, I’m awake,” he grumbles.

They’re in some city, Philadelphia presumably, and even at night, the city is alive. Cars are honking and people are walking up and down the sidewalks, enjoying the nice summer night. Mike is wide awake, and Jacob is still fighting sleep, refusing to wake up.

“Wendell, did you mean to bring us here ?” Mike asks quizzically as he looks out the window. His question piques Sonny’s curiosity and causes him to look too. He sees what Mike means, who are they picking up here?

“Yes,” Wendell responds, sure of himself.

Again, he wonders who out of their 'group' they’re picking up at a homeless shelter.

"Mike I need you to do something," Wendell says.

Freddy Freeman has not had a good life, but you can’t tell when you meet him. He’s learned that sometimes, you have to be the optimism in your own life when you keep getting knocked down. Find your own happiness, even if it’s as simple as in the comic books you dig out of the dumpster.

Nowadays, he’s finding it harder to find joy in his life.

He’s just another homeless youth that aged out of the foster care system, trying to find his way in life. Being forced to live on the street, bouncing from homeless shelter to homeless shelter, and being crippled on top of all of that, it’s hard to find some direction in life. He’s tried looking for work, but no one wants to hire a homeless boy perpetually on crutches. His life can’t keep being like this, he can’t stay here, in Philadelphia. He has this feeling, or sense, that he should start heading north. Maybe he can hitchhike there? That’s a thought for tomorrow though.

The homeless shelter he’s picked for tonight is a little nicer than some of the ones he’s been in, still, though, he tries to hide his crutches under his bed with his jacket. Don’t want to go through another morning where he wakes up to discover they’ve been stolen, again. His bet of actually falling asleep is to do so before everyone comes in to settle for the night at lights out. His fellow patrons can be loud.

Before bed, he pulls out his favorite comic, the one about a group of friends fighting monsters. This comic in particular has always been a real sense of comfort for him growing up. What he wouldn’t do to have friends like that? A group of friends that love each other so much that they're willing to do die for one another? He wants that, especially when it feels like he's been alone his whole life.

The main hero of the comic has wild curly hair and radiant green eyes, always cocky and saying a cheesy punchline before he decapitates the monster of the issue. What a man.

Ya know, the character looks kinda like the guy that’s just entered the shelter….who is heading straight to him.

“Are you Freddy?” he asks, a little harshly, once he gets close enough.

He’s dazed, “Huh?” He’s seen this guy somewhere before, and not just because he looks like the guy from the comic! Although he does look a lot like him, even with his baggy clothes on. Also, what, he knows his name?

The guy sighs, “Look, are you Freddy or not?”

“Uh yeah, that would be me. Freddy Freeman, a real free man so to say,” he laughs awkwardly.

All he gets for his joke is an eye-roll, okay, so maybe this guy isn’t exactly like the main character in the comic. But where the hell has he seen him before?

“Okay cool. Now come on, I don’t have all night. Get your stuff,” the guy reaches down to grab Freddy’s tattered duffle bag.

Instinctively he yanks his bag out of his reach, “Hold up dude, I’m not gonna go anywhere with you! I don’t know you.” Cute or not, he’s not about to follow some random guy outside, that's how you get killed.

“Okay okay! I get it,” he holds his hands back, “I’m Mike, Mike Wheeler.”

“Still doesn’t mean I’m going with you.”

Mike dares to look annoyed, “Why the hell did Wendell send me in here,” he says under his breath.

“Who’s Wendell?”

“He’s uh, he’s a friend of mine. Sorta."

"How can someone be sorta your friend?" he asks

Sighing, Mike replies, "It's a long story, I'll explain later. Look I get it, you don’t know me, and I just show up here asking you to come with me. Believe me, you have no idea how much I get how weird and sketchy it is. But I need you to come with me, it’ll make sense along the way,” he sounds almost pleading.

This is a joke, right? Mike just plans on robbing him or beating him up the moment they get outside right? Despite the instincts he’s cultivated from all his years in foster care and now the streets, there’s something different about Mike. They’ve met before, somehow, somewhere. Some lifetime.

A hammock, hidden kisses, gazebos, and a broken promise.

He just stares back at Mike.

“If you just come with me, there’s a guy in a van, his name is Wendell, and he can explain a lot more than me. He's the one who can explain why I need you to follow me. There are two other guys, Sonny and Jacob, and we’re looking for three more. You’re one of the three. I can’t tell you why exactly, hell I’m not even sure myself why we’re doing this, but we have to go. Wendell needs to take us to -”

“Derry.”

Mike looks back at him surprised, “Uh yeah, we have to go to Derry. It's up in Maine. Have you heard of it before?”

“Nope,” he pops the p sound. It’s the truth, he’s never heard of Derry once in his life. But for some reason, he knows of it, and he gets the feeling he doesn’t want to go back.

“Huh, I was like that too,” Mike says more to himself, “It’s your choice to make, I can’t make you come with me, but I really think you should,” he addresses Freddy this time.

“And this ‘Wendell’ can explain more? Wendell, who is supposedly waiting in the van outside?”

“Well, that’s what I said isn’t it?” Where does Mike get the right be sarcastic right now? It's kinda funny, a little.

He should say no, but what does he have to lose? And going up north doesn’t sound entirely too bad, maybe that's where he was going to head up the whole time, for uh, some reason. He feels some almost supernatural pull to go there, even if the idea Derry is giving him the heebie-jeebies. Maybe this 'Wendell' can explain why that is anyways.

Instead of an answer, he reaches below his cot to grab his jacket and crutches, and he does see Mike’s surprise at them. “Okay Mike, take me to this Wendell.”

Mike goes to grab his duffle bag again, and again he stops him, “I can carry my own bag.”

“Wait, wait a second, you’re telling me, that I had another life?”

“I know it sounds crazy but-”

“Are you kidding me? It sounds awesome! It’s like some sort of-of superhero origin story! This is so cool!” Freddy cuts him off. Out of everyone else, Freddy has definitely had an interesting reaction in Wendell’s opinion.

Mike scoffs, “Cool? Really? You think that being ‘reincarnated’,” he makes finger quotes, “and having to go to bum fuck nowhere Maine to keep some, some promise we made in our past life, is cool?!”

“Well, that’s what I said isn’t it?” Freddy replies in a mocking tone.

“I think it’s kinda cool.” Mike shoots a glare at Sonny, “Only for scientific reasons of course,” he amends.

“Whatever Fredrick , this isn’t some superhero story,” Mike says.

“Don’t call me Fredrick!”

“It’s your name isn’t it?!”

Trashmouth, more like Smartmouth. Wendell chuckles at the thought. He's so thankful to have found Freddy. All he knew was that he was somewhere in Philadelphia, and when he got here, he had to wait for guidance to tell him exactly where Freddy was as he drove around the city. The Turtle did not disappoint.

The two are continuing to bicker, causing Jacob to shift in his sleep. “Mmmhm,” he starts to grumble in his sleep, pulling the scrunched-up hoodie he was using as a makeshift pillow tighter around his head.

Wendell glances over at him, Jacob’s notebook is still open in his lap. His latest drawing, a portrait, is on display. It’s one of an older man with tight brown curls and a kippah sitting delicately in his hair. A pair of small reading glasses sit on the tip of his nose, and he’s smiling. Surely that can’t be who he thinks it is? Does Jacob even know who he drew?

On the stretch of drive to Indiana, when it was just him and Jacob, he learned that Jacob remembers basically four things, a boy missing an arm, Georgie , the face of a man who sometimes appears as a boy, Stanley , a clown, Pennywise , and terror . He doesn’t think Jacob knows the context behind these things, but he will, eventually. Wendell will either explain when they get to Derry or Jacob will pick up the memories when they get there himself.

Regardless, their next stop should be an interesting one for Jacob.

“Stop calling me Fredrick! How would you feel if I called you ‘Michael’ huh?!”

“I’d feel like you just called me by name.”

“Ugh!” Jacob has given up on sleeping, as he yanks awake to glare at the two bickerers in the back.

Mike is smiling smugly, “Look at what you did Fredrick, you woke up poor Jacob.”

Freddy doesn’t retort back, and is just looking at Jacob bewilderedly, “Aren’t you the teenager that killed that kid?”

“What?!” Mike shrieks.

Shit.

A/N: Is it that obvious I haven't figured out Sonny as a character? Also, sorry to do that to Freddy. In this universe he never ended up with the family like he did in the Shazam movie, and at this point he's aged out of foster care. And he never met Billy Batson. For some reason this was a harder chapter write and it's probably my least favorite I've written so far. But it's out ! One more chapter to get Syd and Stan and then off to Derry! Once we get to Derry, the chapters will be longer so there may be longer time between updates. It'll be worth it though! Lemme know what you think!

Tags: @alex-whitley-187 @elliee-doodles

#reddie #stenbrough #bill denbrough #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #jacob barber #wendell deaver #sonny quinn #mike wheeler #freddy freeman #it ch 2 #it 2017 #stranger things #shazam

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 4 years ago

Note

Ok good, very positive rant incoming;

First of all I love Hels using the "Welsy" thing to mock him, top tier, secondly I absolutely love how mad Hels got about being caught in the trap and how Wels responded so sarcastically, hes such a snarky person and you captured that perfectly in that paragraph. I live for the way Hels is so pouty about all of it too.

And oh my god I love how much Wels' mercifulness and basic humanity contrasts with literally all treatment that Hels knows or is used to. The way he's so skeptical about Wels giving him bread because he, as Wels said or at least implied, doesn't understand the concept of sharing or being shared with. ALSO, small detail I absolutely love: the fact that Wels offered him the bigger half of the bread, I just love that small detail that shows how selfless he is and contributes to Wels' point that he prefers to not be Hels' enemy, along with how he just doesn't understand why Hels would think he poisoned the bread somehow or why Hels wanted to be enemies so badly since he started it. And the way Hels stops his talking to tell Wels not to pity him after basically getting him to talk about the kinds of conditions that were influencing him to not even understand basic humanity.

Also, one thing that makes me really love this oneshot: you give Hels emotions in a realistic way. A lot of what I've seen is just a cruel Helsknight or one that just acts tough but with the second sometimes it doesn't seem super realistic? I can't really give much of an example but I just love the way you add in his thoughts that show why Wels' remark made him tear up.

And don't even get me started with the end omg—I just love it so much. The way Wels is basically using the last of his strength to make sure Hels makes it out alive and Hels just doesn't understand why. And for a second that tough attitude he puts on drops when he hears zombies since the reality is, as Wels said, if Hels dies, he doesn't respawn. I just,, aaaaa I have no words for how much I love it!! Just the way Hels is trying to comprehend why the hell Wels is giving him the materials to get out, sacrificing himself so that Hels at least lives, and how desparate Wels was for him to live. It just really put into perspective for Hels that Wels really did not want to see him as an enemy and in a way refused to. And the way Wels relaxed and stopped worrying or caring once Hels was safe in the Nether really showed that he cared despite how much Hels insisted on fighting him.

You just,, write the dynamic so well. I love it so much. Easily my favorite oneshot ever. And that's honestly saying something with how much I love it because usually I don't even like fanfics, even if I write stuff myself I rarely if ever read anything that others make (not that I read my own either beyond editing) and when I do I often just come out disappointed whereas this, a oneshot, really impressed me with how well it was written and got me hooked reading it over and over again because it's just that good.

-🌺

Ahhhhh I’ve been trying to think how to respond to this for so long!

Thank you so much! I’m always proud of my writings but there’s something about that one I loved even more so it means a lot to me that you love it too! Honestly I think writing Wels and Hels brings out my best work.

I appreciate you so much, thank you again! I have a new Wels/Hels chapter in the works and I’m definitely gonna save screenshots of this ask to read later for motivation. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#hermitcraft #welsknight #helsknight

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mulletpeters · 4 years ago

Text

toothache of the mind

ship: peterpatter

rating: g

word count: 1938

tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, high school, 1990s, best friends, feelings realization, pining

Reggie gets braces for his sweet sixteen.

He doesn’t tell anyone―not even his best friends in the whole wide world. So when he walks into homeroom the Tuesday after his birthday, Luke nearly topples out of his chair at the sight of the metal wrapped around Reggie’s adorable little snaggletooth. Alex may or may not be hyperventilating, but Luke wouldn’t know. He’s distracted.

Reggie, for his part, is acting like Luke’s world hasn’t just been tilted on its axis in a dangerous way. “Hey, guys,” he says nonchalantly. “Sup?”

Alex recovers much quicker than Luke, though there’s still a glint of concern in his eyes. They both know how self-conscious Reggie can be, especially about his smile, so he treads carefully. “Hey, Reginald. Do anything fun for your birthday?”

They had their own party on Friday after school―Luke gave Reggie a new studded strap for his bass because the one he’d found in Bobby’s garage had started to look pretty sad―but Reggie’s parents are the type to force family time onto him any chance they get. Luke has a sneaking suspicion they only do it so they can use Reggie against each other in whatever asinine argument comes up that day, but it’s not like he can really do anything about it. None of them can, so Reggie is unfortunately left to his own devices when it comes to compulsory dysfunctional family celebrations. “Not really,” he says in lieu of giving any actual details; he’ll tell them eventually, but a crowded classroom is not ideal for dishing out his personal drama. “Got braces.” He shrugs, like his mom hasn’t made him feel like shit about his less than perfect teeth for most of his childhood. Definitely since Luke’s known him, anyway, and they’ve been friends since they were ten.

“Oh, did you?” Alex asks, and it sounds borderline sarcastic but he holds back most of his usual bite. “Let’s see ‘em, then.” He holds an arm out in a grand gesture like he’s giving Reggie the floor, and Reggie flashes the most hesitant smile Luke’s ever seen on him.

Luke swears his heart stops, but Alex is once again carrying the conversation so he does his best to tune in. “Oh, nice,” Alex says, approving of the red brackets stuck to the front of Reggie’s teeth with a slight nod.

Reggie returns the gesture, and he looks considerably more relaxed now that he knows his friends won’t shun him for something this mundane. “Thanks,” he tells Alex before turning to face Luke, and he looks a little apprehensive, like maybe Luke should get his brain to reboot so he can offer some reassuring words instead of just staring like a total weirdo.

Luke wants to say something about how red looks good on him, or how it’s cool that it’ll match his favourite flannel, or maybe he’d settle for even just a supportive thumbs up. What actually comes out of his mouth is, “How long do you have to wear them?”

Reggie gives him a funny look, head tilted and brow furrowed. “Only like, a year,” he answers anyway, and Luke wants to scream.

Thankfully, the teacher chooses that moment to draw their attention to the front of the room, and Reggie turns around in his seat so Luke can only see the back of his head. Luke sighs in relief, sinking further into his chair till his limbs are sprawled out into the aisle, accepting his defeat. It’s gonna be a long year.

Luke decidedly does not address the issue after that day. The issue being that weird fluttery feeling he gets in his chest every time Reggie smiles at him, or laughs, or talks, or breathes. Basically any time he sees the glint of metal in Reggie’s mouth, really.

It’s not like this is a new development, exactly; Luke has always had a bit of a soft spot for Reggie, a little bit of weakness. In the six years they’ve known each other, he can’t recall a time that Reggie just existing didn’t make his brain static out. The braces just made him recognize what’s always been true, even if he still doesn’t know how to make sense of it.

Normally he’d talk to his best friends about whatever’s on his mind, but he can’t very well articulate a dilemma he can’t comprehend to begin with. Plus, he doubts Alex would be any help, considering he’s got his own set of issues to work through, and he’d rather die than bring it up with Reggie himself. And as for Bobby, well. Bobby’s got the emotional depth of a puddle. So, naturally, he does the only logical thing there is to do: he writes.

He figures if Reggie’s smile is stuck in his head like a song, he might as well make it one. It’s what he’s good at, and it gives him a false sense of separation from the issue that grants a certain clarity he can’t get any other way. He jots down pages and pages of lyrics, curled up in his bed late one night, fingers itching for his guitar even though he knows his mom would kill him if she caught him playing at 1am again. So he just sits cross-legged on his comforter, hunched over his ratty old notebook, scrawling cliche lines about green eyes and freckles and an endearingly crooked canine.

It’s the sappiest thing he’s ever written. When he reads over it before school the next morning, he knows he’s well and truly fucked.

Reggie plops down into the dip in the center of the studio couch, inadvertently leaning onto Luke’s shoulder. “You working on a new song?” he asks, tilting his chin at the notebook on Luke’s lap like the question needs clarification.

Luke nods even as he scrambles to shut the book, shuffling loose papers to stuff them between the creased cover. “Uh,” he stammers, biting his lip. “Yeah, I am.”

Reggie just nods back, averting his eyes to look up at the loft when he realizes that Luke doesn’t want him to see the song. “Rad. What's it called?” He glances at Luke, offering a comforting smile that says Luke can tell him as much or as little as he wants.

And well, that's the thing. Luke hasn't given it a name yet―the song, or the bewildering cocktail of feelings that inspired it to begin with. So he looks up from his scratchy handwriting to Reggie’s lopsided grin and says the first thing his useless brain can come up with. “Crooked Teeth.”

“Oh.” Reggie’s smile slides right off his face and Luke realizes what he's done half a second too late. Reggie bites his lip self-consciously, fidgeting with the sleeves of the flannel tied around his waist as Luke scrambles to backtrack into less sensitive territory.

“It's about Bobby,” he blurts unwittingly. And technically speaking, it is a little bit about Bobby, mostly because it's a little bit about the whole band, seeing as they’re mentioned in one line of the second chorus. But Bobby’s not the point of the song, not by a long shot. Luke decides Reggie doesn't need to know that, though. Especially not when his face lights up at the revelation, conspiratorial eyebrow raised like Luke’s letting him in on some great secret.

“Oh, snap! Well, I won't tell him, but don't let him find those lyrics.” Reggie winks, and it's not like it’s an unfamiliar sight, but Luke’s heart stutters out of time all the same. He's just glad Reggie isn’t the type to ask to see a song before Luke’s ready to share it; Luke doubts he'll ever be ready to share this particular piece, but if he does show it to Reggie, it'll be his choice.

He laughs halfheartedly, more a forceful exhale than anything else, and lands a playful punch to Reggie’s bicep. “Sure, man.”

Reggie just smiles wider. It feels like a kick straight to Luke’s solar plexus.

“You told him it’s about Bobby?” Alex asks, but what Luke hears is, you’re an idiot. Luke looks down at his best friend―he used to consider Reggie his best friend too, but he thinks maybe Reggie is in a category all his own at this point―and frowns. “He got his braces off before we even met him.” Alex stands up, walking around his drum kit to pace the floor. “And you told Reggie it’s called Crooked Teeth before you said that? Dude, you know how insecure he is about―”

“Yeah, Al, I know,” Luke huffs, cutting him off. It’s not the title Luke would've consciously chosen, but it's weirdly fitting, in a sort of convoluted way. Like, maybe Reggie’s teeth weren’t the sole catalyst for this whole...whatever this is, but they definitely played a major part. Luke’s really gonna miss Reggie’s snaggletooth, okay? He resents Reggie’s parents for a lot of reasons, but forcing him to get braces instead of a real birthday present is pretty damn high on the list.

Alex, with all his anxiety-induced powers of perception, notices Luke’s internal struggle and momentarily stops wearing a hole in the floor. “You’re kinda wiggin’ out, man. Chill.” He holds his hands out in what’s meant to be a placating gesture, but the drumsticks in his fists sort of ruin the effect.

“You’re one to talk,” Luke mumbles, but he doesn’t mean it, and Alex knows that. He’s just confused, and stressed, and generally unsure what to do with his recent epiphany. “What should I do?” he asks louder, eyes pleading.

Alex goes back to nervously lapping the room, and Luke picks at a loose string on his guitar strap just to have something to do. “I dunno,” Alex says after what could very well be an eternity. “But I think you’d feel better if you told him.”

Luke’s eyes shoot up to meet Alex’s gaze, brow furrowing involuntarily. “You what?”

Alex walks over, planting his feet in front of Luke, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder that isn’t holding his guitar strap up. “You’re clearly upset about this, Lucas. Tell him.”

Luke is shaking his head before Alex has even finished his sentence. “Not happening.” He folds his arms like a petulant child, but it loses its effectiveness when his guitar gets in the way, a sad thump echoing through the room. “I wouldn’t know what to say, anyway.”

Alex cocks an eyebrow with a pointed look at the notebook sitting on top of Luke’s amp. “I think you already said it.”

Luke follows his line of sight, eyes landing on the folded corner of a piece of paper sticking out from all the others. He already knows what’s written on it―has the words memorized by now. They were written on his heart long before he put them to the page, anyway.

Bobby bursts into the studio then, Reggie in tow, and the moment is broken. They’re laughing about something Bobby said, and Reggie is as beautiful as ever as he throws his head back, and Luke thinks that maybe one day he’ll get the courage to tell him how he feels. He’ll ask Alex to work with him on the music to go with his lyrics, maybe even get Bobby to help with the melody. He’ll throw rocks at Reggie’s window and serenade him from his front lawn like they do in the movies, and his friends will back him up, and it’ll be perfect.

For now, he needs to focus on perfecting the songs they already have. They’ve got a show at the Orpheum next summer to prepare for.

#posted this a week ago but i finally got around to putting it here too lmao #i still don't know if i like the formatting but whatever #anyway! i'm writing willex next <3 #jatp #julie and the phantoms #peterpatter #luke #reggie #alex #mine #fic

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guide-on-how-to-read-faster · 4 years ago

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Guide on How to Read Faster?

Isn't it so much easier to get through school if you could complete your reading assignments three times as fast? Wouldn't it be more fun to jump right into a good piece of fiction and blaze through it in less than a day? Let's explore speed reading in more detail.

The two ways of thinking about speed reading may be familiar to you if you've already looked into the subject. It is said that speed reading is the essence of success and everything you have ever dreamed of. Others say speed reading is a myth and doesn't work. Truth usually lies somewhere in the middle.

When considering speed reading, the first thing you need to ask yourself is: "Why do I want to read faster?" While speed reading novels for pleasure requires a different approach than speed reading textbooks or research articles for understanding hard science, speed reading novels for pleasure requires one approach. When using RSVP tests or Rapid Serial Visual Presentations, individual words or blocks of two or three appear sequentially on the screen.

Reading Process

Before we move on to the techniques, it's important to understand the reading process.

Reading is the action of analyzing a piece of writing to understand its intended meaning. So, reading effectively requires more than just recognizing a series of words. You must also understand the relationship between the words and the unstated implications of the situation.

Compare this to skimming, which is the rapid consumption of text to gain a general idea of what you're reading. The gist of it will become apparent even if you don't comprehend the details. The goal of speed reading is to maintain skim-like reading speeds while maintaining reading-like comprehension.

An educated adult reads approximately 200-400 words per minute. It is claimed that speed readers can read thousands of words in a minute. To do so, they rely on peripheral vision.

The fovea, or center of your visual field, has the highest acuity, about 1° in any direction. The width of your thumb extended at arm's length is approximately this size. The parafovea has moderate acuity between 1 and 5° from the center, and the periphery is greater than 5° from the center. In peripheral vision, it is physically and biologically impossible to recognize and interpret the text.

Try looking at a stationary object, such as where the wall meets the ceiling. Keep your eyes smoothly moving from one side to the other of the line. Unfortunately, it is actually impossible. Multiple small, jerky movements of your eyes are called saccades. During reading, saccades allow the reader to fixate the fovea on a word by moving their eyes quickly.

When speed readers use their fingers to guide their eye movements, I initially thought they employed smooth pursuit. Smooth pursuit occurs when your eyes fixate on a moving object and can follow it smoothly. If you move your finger from side to side in front of you, your eyes will smoothly follow it without jerking. The finger technique speed readers use is less about the pursuit of smoothness and more about maintaining a metronomic pace as they read.

The saccades allow the fovea to focus on the next word. It is estimated that each fixation lasts around 250 milliseconds, but it can vary greatly based on legibility, difficulty, and whether it is proofreading or reading for comprehension or swiping. However, not every word is fixed.

In about half of the sentences, the word "the" is skipped. In certain cases, a word may be skipped even though it has been processed. The rapid serial visual processing (RSVP) technology is useful for displaying information (usually text or images) in which the text appears word-by-word in a fixed focal point. In addition to being a basic reading aid, RSVP is being investigated as a way to boost individual reading rates. Additionally, RSVP is being used for research in visual impairment, dyslexia, perceptual and cognitive psychology. There are many different languages and platforms available for RSVP.

Through these technologies, words are presented to the viewer in the center of the visual field in rapid succession, thereby eliminating the need for eye movements. In light of the aforementioned individual variations, visual processing physiology, and the way we comprehend language, I would argue that RSVP is an inefficient way to consume text. RSVP does not allow for regressions, which is another problem. Regression is a brief look backward in the text to return to an earlier word. The purpose of this is to correct errors' incomprehension. RSVP further reduces comprehension by eliminating the possibility of regressions.

According to proponents of speed reading, subvocalization, or using your inner voice while reading, will slow you down. Numerous studies have examined the effects of eliminating or minimizing subvocalization. Findings consistently indicated decreased comprehension. It makes sense that phonological processing is an important part of reading and comprehension, since all writing systems represent words, and since the primary form of language is vocal rather than visual.

What does all this mean? Perception of visual information occurs rapidly. However, reading is slowed down by linguistic processing. It has been demonstrated that language processing rather than the ability to control eye movements is the determining factor of reading speed in various studies. We are limited in our ability to read by our ability to identify and understand words rather than by our ability to see them. As a result, reading faster actually reduces comprehension, which may or may not matter depending on what you are reading.

Learn how to read faster

After we have clarified the science behind reading and speed reading, we will take a look at how to speed read faster. To read faster, one does not need to read the same way for every reading goal.

As a method of improving one's reading comprehension and speed, it is suggested that one practice more reading. Even though this does help, it's a very slow and gradual process that doesn't produce drastic changes.

To drastically improve speed, comprehension must be reduced. We need to read slower to increase comprehension. There's no way around that; you can only improve slowly.

In each case, we have to balance reading comprehension with reading speed. Is it possible to reduce comprehension minimally, while increasing speed maximally? I have found the following techniques to be the most useful over the years.

1) Determine the Type of Reading

Determine your reading goal and the type of reading you will perform first. It is not necessary to maximize comprehension for every reading task. Do you read nonfiction for pleasure? Do you proofread an essay for a friend? Do you read a textbook for class? Do you read high yield notes and bullet points for one of your classes?

Having a clear goal in mind will help you determine the minimum level of comprehension required and, therefore, the maximum speed that can be achieved.

2) Remain Flexible

Secondly, make sure your speed is flexible. During the reading process, you will come across sections of text that are easy for you. It's a simple language, you understand the concepts, and you can easily get through it. You don't have to focus on every word to understand it.

In other sections, you will be introduced to new words or concepts that require your attention. Often, this will happen, so you must be flexible with your reading speed to optimize your speed/comprehension balance. If you're not sure about the significance of a paragraph, focus on its first and last sentences.

3) Use a Pacer

Use a pacer, such as your finger or a pen. You can follow along with your eyes by running your pacer below each line from end to end. You will instantly increase your reading speed with minimal comprehension loss.

It is important to find the sweet spot between pushing the boundaries of your comfort zone and only slightly reducing comprehension. My opinion is that if you reduce comprehension by 10% but gain 50% in speed, that's not a bad tradeoff. The pacer will need to move faster in places and slower in others, as described above.

Different Types of Reading

1) Textbooks

There is often a lot of unnecessary text in textbooks. There's no need to worry if you accidentally skip a paragraph or a whole section. Pay attention to bolded words or sections that contain key information, and speed up while reading text that adds context to what you've already learned.

Identifying what is important in each section by looking at section headings and bolded terms will make it easier for you to read the section. It may take a few minutes at first, but overall, if you execute it properly, you should save time.

When I'm finished reading a section or page, I summarize what I've learned. Alternatively, I can write a few bullet points or speak out loud to myself. This greatly improves retention and comprehension.

2) Books for Pleasure

If you read for pleasure, you can do whatever you want. If you want to enjoy the nuances of language, then you should slow down. In contrast, if you only wish to grasp the gist, it won't be a problem if your comprehension drops considerably.

It very much depends on the book and what you hope to gain from it. Depending on the book, I read every word or skip sections. The majority of books fall somewhere in the middle.

3) Research

In reading research articles, which you will read a lot during your pre-med, medical school, and residency years, follow a systematic approach. The best way to gain a deeper understanding of the abstract is to read it slowly and carefully. Focus on those key points when you read the full article.

Spend a few minutes reading the abstract, a few introductory paragraphs, the methods and results in sections quickly, and then spend more time on the conclusion.

A Guide to Speed Reading

Problem – The amount of reading material available these days is so overwhelming that often it's impossible to keep up. In this way, we scroll headlines and teasers instead of reading content that will actually educate us. Our lives are often dominated by the pressure to finish our daily tasks on time or keep up with the latest developments in our areas of interest, regardless of whether we are at work or studying.

Solution – Today, speed reading is a highly valuable and essential skill. People who master speed reading techniques can read as much as three times faster than the average reader, who usually reads between 200 and 250 words per minute.

Benefits – When speed reading, the human brain is challenged to perform faster and better. With speed reading, your brain will be trained to absorb information much faster than it is used to. As a result, your memory and brain function will be improved. Additionally, you may benefit from increased general and specialized knowledge, improved problem-solving skills, or increased self-confidence.

A Final Thought

We have compiled this article to teach you how to read faster. This article will describe how speed reading techniques work and provide you with tips, information, and resources to help you read and learn more quickly.

#speed reading #guide on read faster

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savysavannah · 4 years ago

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Challenge 1

Special thanks to @damian-schreave and @hadleyjaneharper for the rps.

Also the last section is not in fic format because its 2am, im lazy, and you get the gyst from the RP. Apperantly this is too long so part 2 soon.

The Prince was off in Paloma for a bit so we were of little use in the Palace, no idea why they had us move in so early. Therefore, I’d spent most of the day with some books I’d grabbed from the library. Primarily they were legal books since it never hurts to brush up. But every once in a while, such as now I’d need to go and grab some food.

I brought my notepad and a book on contract law with me and walked into the kitchen. There was another girl also in the kitchen. We haven't spoken to each other, she didn’t seem unfriendly or particularly awful company, just hadn’t really had the moment to. I grabbed a plate of fruit and wondered if she would say anything. After a moment I sat down and resumed reading.

Then a small sad sigh came from the young woman who was looking down at her phone with a sad face. It wouldn’t be too bad if I took a break for some conversation. However, the young woman looked troubled, she may not be in the mood. I yawned and stretched then mumbled, but loud enough for her to hear, “God, I could use a drink.” and wondered if the other would take the bait.

There was a beat before the other spoke, “Long day?”

“More or less. Lots of reading, missing work. How about yourself?”

She shrugged “Its...different than what I’m used to. Lots of sitting still when I’m used to spending my days moving around.” SHe grimaces then sighed, “The adjustment period is always the toughest, though.”

I thought for a moment trying to remember the occupations of the selected, “The dancer?” I asked.

She grinned “Yeah. Hadley.” She raised an eyebrow, “And you?”

“Lawyer.” I said and stood from the table, walked over to Hadley and held her hand out, “Savannah Mars, Labrador, three.”

She shook my hand, “Nice to meet you.” then thought for a moment, “You said you were missing work? Do you work at a law firm?”

“Kinda. I work for the Illean Civil Liberties Union in their legal division. It's a non-profit which focuses on civil rights and for me civil legal cases. Lgbt+ rights defense, domestic defense, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, that’s really cool.” She said, seeming actually interested in my work. “Are you missing the casework, or something else?”

“It's pretty hard for me to step back from my work. Since I'm kind of left worrying about my clients. A new guy took over my cases but I'm trying to still work in my own way by studying up on some legal sections I work in less frequently but still may come up. Such as contract law.” I explained not fully hearing her other question.

She nodded, “I understand, sort of. I’m left worrying about how my ballet company is going to perform, with somebody else taking over the role in the Nutcracker that I’ve had the past few years.”

“Yeah the transition really is nerve wracking. Have you seen them perform though?” I asked hoping that could at least provide some solace.

“I’ve seen pictures on Instagram, but no videos yet. We were just finishing up our performance of Cinderella when I left. Nutcracker rehearsal started a few days after, but it’s a show we do each year, so... “ She sighed “ It /should/ be fine.”

I nodded, “well if they assigned them the role try and have faith in their qualifications. That's what I'm keeping in mind for mine. They did go to law school so it's fine. They got the role so it’s fine.” I said partially for her and partially for me.

She sighed a little hesitant, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Competition is just gonna be a bitch and a half when I’m sent back.” She chuckled wryly.

“Well maybe you'll win and then you won't have too. Who’s gonna take a role away from the future queen of Illea.”

“That’s extremely unlikely to happen.” She then almost smirked “What about you? If you win, nobody’s going to tell you no in a courtroom.”

I laughed, “If I win I'll kill myself.” Then I realized how dark that sounded, though it didn’t seem to phase her.

“I hate to say that I feel the same way, but…” She shrugged and nodded, “I feel the same way” For a moment I was confused, why would she join if she felt the same way? Then it clicked, a dancer would be a five, lower class, need the money.

“You're a five right? Did you apply for the money? If you don't mind my asking that is. It would just make sense why you'd dislike to win.”

“It…” She bit her lip, “Kind of? It’s a long story involving a deadbeat mom, a shitty health care system, two starving artists, and a kid with leukemia.” She said with an apologetic smile. Whatever she’d be apologizing for I can’t say.

“Well shit man, I'm glad you got in then. Both for the money and for a break from that. I know this society fucking sucks and we've got a likely shit for brains hier, but if you ever need a lawyer I'm here to help. Hopefully, being a three now will provide some help for you too.” I said then caught myself making a mental note to not be so vulgar with my language.

She gave me a small smile, “Thanks. Now I just have to figure out what I’m doing with the rest of my life, after throwing my career into dance, only to become a Three.” She laughed, “What about you? Why did you enter? It sounds like you had a pretty cushy gig going on.”

It wouldn’t be smart to tell the truth, but lying when Hadley had been so open felt wrong, I sighed and said, “My brother. Basically he forged my entry and I didn't want him to get into legal troubles for that. He's a fucking idiot.” I sighed and let that last cuss word slide as he is a fucking idiot.

She snorted, “Men really do only have two brain cells.” She gave a small smile, “I’m sorry that you ended up in that situation, though. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. I tried to beat him up but my other brothers stopped me. It was really a mess. Had to find out from a waitress asking for a photo with me.”

She shook her head, “My best friend told me that he was so upset to see me, “throwing my life away,” as if I hadn’t entered to help him and his brother.” Sounds like an ungrateful ass. She sighed and looked down at her fruit, “When did life get this messed up?”

A question with too big of an answer. A bit panicked and not knowing what to say I took a strawberry off my plate and held it out to her, “Fruit?”

She chuckled and took the strawberry, “Thanks.” She takes a bit, chews, and then pauses, looking at Savannah, “You know what I could really go for right now, though? A good gin and tonic.”

“God that'd be great. You know what, let's make some. One glass can't hurt.”

She shrugged, “Sure, sounds fun. I’m down.” She looks around, “I know they keep the wine in that cabinet, but I haven’t found the liquor yet.”

After gathering our ingredients we get to work making the glasses, “so, what's your plan in all this?”

“In the selection?” She raises an eyebrow and then shrugs, she starts pouring things into the mixer bottle, “Stay here for as long as I can so I keep making stimulus checks, and then get sent home before I’m stuck spending the rest of my life here.” She finishes pouring and looks at Savannah, “You?”

I sighed, “about the same. Give the money to the non-profit I work for. I was hoping I could root for you to win, you seem like you have a good head on your shoulders to influence him, but the more I think about it the more I realize that's like damning to hell.

She snorts, “Well, I still appreciate the compliment, and I would’ve said the same about you.” Then she sighs, “I’ve always known that it’s been like this, though. He gets to squander every penny he has on luxury shit, whereas my paychecks…” another sigh, “But life isn’t fair.”

“Yeah. And then waste the money on useless shit and trying to pass dumb laws like making 'cats' illegal instead of actually fixing the problems in this country.” I said and poured myself a glass of the drink.

She poured some for herself and then shook her head with an eye roll, “Don’t even get me started on that debacle. Why even joke about things like that?”

“Because he doesn't comprehend how the people of his own country are suffering. He's just so blind with privilege. Not that I have much to speak on but at least I freaking try to think about others in the country and their situations.”

She gave me a small smile, “You didn’t seem like the type to blow your money on worthless things to me, at all. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to him when we have that interview in a few days.”

“Yeah I think im just gonna be polite for the sake of not causing a scene that'll haunt me my whole life” I said and took a sip, then clarified, “polite though, not kind.”

She nodded then drank too, “I really went from putting on one type of show for Twos to another.”

“Any idea what you're gonna do as a three?” I asked.

She pursed her lips and shook her head, “I haven’t taken a science or maths class since I was eleven, and I don’t have the money for university. I guess I could work as a translator, or if that doesn’t work out, marry a five and go back to dancing.” She took another sip of her drink, “Hopefully I’ll be here long enough to figure it out.”

“Do they not have like threes who are dance teachers? I haven't really looked much into the area myself but it may make sense.”

She shook her head, “For me, at least, it was mostly Russian immigrants who were former dancers themselves, so Fives.”

I thought for a moment, “Well if you ever need history lessons, english, or legal aid I'm around. I dug into my pocket and pulled out a business card, since it’s not like either of us plan to be here long, “Just all the way up in Labrador. Where are you from again?”

“Allens. So, not too far. Thanks.” She replied and looked at the card.

“Welcome.” I replied, finished off my drink then wrote down another idea.

Hadley narrowed her eyes curiously, “What are you writing?”

“Just an idea for a proposition with the ICLU. There are probably other girls in a similar situation as you being lower caste now upper be it through marriage or selection, it may be helpful to talk about implementing a caste readjustment program.”

She lifted her head, smiling just a little, “That sounds like a great idea.” Then a little quieter she added, “I'd appreciate it.”

“Hopefully my boss will agree and pass it onto the innovation department. I'll write a quick memo about it to her later.” I smiled happy to have something to do.

“You really love your job, don't you?” She asked.

I nodded, “It makes me feel like I have some kinda purpose. As cheesy as that is to say.” Making actual change in Illea instead of just prancing around doing whatever else I could have grown up to do.

“No, I get that.” She looked down, “As a kid, I never really felt like I belonged, but on the stage, dancing?” She looked a little distant, “Standing out was a good thing.”

I nodded, “Mhm. Have you thought of ways you could continue working while at the palace?”

She smiled, “Actually, I had a conversation with Prince Eaton about that, and I’ve been able to work out a schedule that allows me to still practice, even though I have to do a little more work to catch up on lessons.”

“That'll be good. If you wanted too you could put on a performance and donate the profits. That way you could be working towards a goal too instead of general practice.”

She tilted her head, “That's an interesting idea. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I nodded, “Well it was nice meeting you, Lady Hadley. But it is probably time for me to get back to work.” Then held out my hand to shake goodbye.

She took it, giving it a shake. “Nice to meet you too.”

It was pretty late in the afternoon by the time I was escorted to the interview room. Damian was in a navy blue suit jacket, dress pants, and a white button up shirt. He smiled at me as I got closer. His eyes flicker to my nametag for a second before he speaks, “Hello, Lady Savannah. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”

I smiled trying to stay polite, then gave a small curtsy, “The same to you, your highness.”

He smiled back, taking a few steps back and gestured for me to go into the interview room. In the room is a sofa, surrounded by stage lights and a few cameras, what a romantic first meeting. There is one camera on a swivel stand, that is currently focused on Damian and I. He starts walking into the room, looking at me as he talks, "How have you found your first few days here, so far?"

I debated giving him a short one word answer of 'fine' but Danny's words of 'don't ruin your own happiness" slipped into my head. "They've been fine. I've enjoyed your library. It's helped me feel like I can in some ways continue working by catching up on legal matters normally outside of my areas of expertise."

He nodded while smiling then took a seat on the sofa, "So you're a lawyer, then? What kind of law do you practice?"

Reluctantly I sat next to him, hopefully I wouldn't catch an STD from proximity alone, "Yes, I practice primarily civil and criminal law with the Illean Civil Librities Union. So primarily defending people who are in bad situations due to outdated laws which need amending." My tone came out more passive aggressive than intended, but it was slightly justified as he should have been working to amend said laws and help people instead of partying.

"That's a great thing, to be doing. What got you into law?"

"Well I was at the University of Labrador. My best friend I'm the sorority I was in decided to go to a protest over women's rights in illea. We went, someone man came and antagonized some women, she defended herself verbally, got arrested, felt up by the officer, then was unable to do anything legally about it. I felt that was unfair so I decided to look into being a lawyer, liked the process, graduated in 2 years, went to Yale and here I am."

He lets out a low whistle, looking down for a second. I couldn't help but be a but prideful at my accomplishment, then looks back up at me, more serious than before, his jaw tense, "I'm really sorry that happened to your friend." He said and fell silent. What a conversation killer.

"It's fine." I said trying not to dwell on it, "How was your time in undergrad? Partied a lot, I saw." I said the passive agressiveness coming out again.

He smiled, a little more relaxed than before, but not as relaxed as he was when he first entered the room, "I enjoyed my last few years of freedom before entering the real world, yes." He then raised his eyebrows, grinning a little wider, kind of teasing, "And what about you? Being in a sorority and all, I doubt you were much of a homebody yourself."

I couldn't help but completely flush and bit down my urge to absolutely smack him upside the head. "It was a brief phase. It was fun. But also a waste of time." I chuckled a bit remembering my airheaded behavior in that year, "had I already been working harder I may have been able to finish faster and help more people."

He grinned a little at how flustered I was, which just made me want to punch him more, then smiled a little more genuinely towards the end, "We're still young. We have our whole lives to keep fixing things."

i frowned, "That isn't true. We never know when we're going to die. Something could always happen so we should be trying to help as much as we can. Not to mention while we" I paused after my slip of the tongue, but didn't correct it "partied in undergrad people were suffering who could have been helped."

There's a flicker of a frown on his face when I mentioned how short life is, but he lets it go, tilting his head when he looks at me, "We can't save everyone. That's impossible. We can try to do as much as we can, but there will always be more people in need of help.

"Partying isn't trying."

He raised his eyebrows, "You didn't even know you wanted to be a lawyer, back when you were partying in college."

I got kinda flustered again, he's right, there's no logically sound way to win. Yeah but I should have, I wish I had. Would have made the time a lot less regrettable." I said then cleared my throat, "Though, this is a bit of a heavy topic for our first meeting, don't you agree? Your- Damian." I barely corrected myself from saying Your Highness.

He chuckled, "A bit, but it's different from the surface level talk about work and provinces." He inclined his head, "Though, if you think about it, you never would have discovered your passion for law if you hadn't joined your sorority." He shrugged and gave a stupid grin which made me blush even more.

Finally I snapped and turned to point a finger at him, "You won okay. I can't regret something if I didn't know to do something better, but that doesn't make topless jello shots any less of an embarrassing memory." I exclaimed then heard what I said and wished to curl into a ball and die.

He chuckled a little, "We all have our moments. It's okay."

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door then, and a guard pokes his head in. Damian nods at him, then turns and looks at me, "Unfortunately, we'll have to exchange stories another time. It appears our time today is up."

I sighed in relief at my rescue, then mumbled under my breath, "Thank God." I stood to curtsy, "Your-" I cringed a bit at the error, "Damian."

He chuckled again, "It was a pleasure to meet you Savannah. Until next time." He smiled at me when we got to the door, and stopped in the doorway.

I smiled back politely, "Thank you for the conversation. Till next time."

*savy was taking a break from her work and decided to out for a walk in the gardens. She had always been a fan of taking runs when stressed snd the gardens were providing a peaceful alternative. She was walking around when she thought she saw a bunny in the bushes. Being the gal she is she wanted to see it closer so she stepped off the path and walked into the gravel. Immediately her heel sank in the gravel. She lost her balance for a moment but didnt fall. Instead she panicked. She debated stepping out of her shoes to get it out but she didnt wanna hurt her skin on the gravel. Instead she tried to wiggle it loose and hopped no one was near*

*rip savannah, but Damian is out distressing by playing basketball at that point in time, and from where he's standing as he shoots this basket, he can see someone clearly struggling with something in the gardens. he can't see who it is, or what the problem is, but he figures he should go check it out. he tucks the basketball under one arm, jogging towards the person he can see, calling out* Hey, everything okay?

*savannah hears him call out an knows immediately it's the last person in the world she'd want to find her like this* Absolutely peachy! *calls back and debates ditching the shoes*

*he slows to a stop when he gets closer, his eyes going from savannah's face to her foot* Mmm, looks like you've got yourself in a bit of a sticky situation, there.

*is extremely flustered* no situation at all. I said I'm fine. *aggressively wiggles the heel and almost trips so she squeaks but manages to catch herself*

*when he sees her almost trip, he lunges forwards to catch her before she hits the ground, but then she catches herself, so he's like "oh was that for nothing?" he looks down at the shoe, furrowing his brows, thinking* Here, let me help with that, before you actually fall.

I'm not going to fall and I don't need your help. I'm perfectly capable of defeating some gravel on my own

*he takes a step back* Alright... if you insist... *hes not going anywhere, just watching her, waiting to see what she'll do*

*huffs when she doesnt hear him walk away and continues to wiggle then huffs when shes not getting anywhere* Fine. If you're just going to stand there anyways you may as well help.

*he chuckles, setting the basketball down on the ground, kneeling down to look at the gravel and the heel, before beginning to dig the heel out with his fingers* Not the best shoes to walk off the path in.

*rolls her eyes* I didn't think about that. I thought I saw a bunny and got distracted

*he can't help but raise his eyebrows at that, grinning, twisting the heel a little to unscrew it from the gravel* Was it at least a cute bunny?

*his tone is a little teasing*

It was cute, be careful with your tone though when your face is near my foot. *once its free she steps back on the path so she doesn't sink again*

*he chuckles, joking* What, are you planning on giving me a royal nose job with your shoe?

You could probably use one. *offers a hand to help him stand back up*

*he picks up his basketball, taking her hand, still grinning at her, teasing* Maybe it's just the angle you've been looking at it from.

*stands on her tiptoes looking at his nose* Nope. It's a little off. Nose job it is.

*she pinches his nose* its a big flaw. Doubt you'll be able to get a wife like that

*he chuckles* I don’t know, my nose has never gotten in my way before

*considers* You're right, I'm sure that was just your sense of responsibility that got in the way.

*he raises his eyebrows* You know, I’ve never turned in an assignment late, or anything for work late. Never asked for an extension.

I somehow find that doubtful. Your reputation of being a loose partier precedds that of a responsible duitiful person.

Well, it’s the truth. *he shrugs* If you’re really curious, you could email my professors. It’s all about finding a balance. *he smiles*

*grumbles because he seems to be honest about it* What did you even study?

I dual majored in political science and marketing. You?

*sighs in relief* at least you werent a buisness major. Political Science and History for me on a prelaw track.

*he nods, smiling, genuinely curious* Did you prefer one over the other?

Probably political science. I mean I love history it's why I added it. For fun since it's just like learning stories and seeing the modern day impact of said stories. But political science felt more efficient. Like it helped me have a better understanding of the philosophy of political thinking which has helped me a lot in law. Plus I just liked the professors more.

*he smiles* Understandable. Good professors make it so much easier to learn the content

*smiles* yeah and lots and lots of highlighters. Did you have a favorite topic in political science?

*grinning* I took a really cool course on comparative political economies - I really like the economic side of things. That, and the classes I had to take on international politics. *he looks over at savannah* What about you?

Probably civil politics. I've always been a fan of civil work. I honestly thought about working for the AFEI instead of the ICLU but decided I wanted to do more personal legal work than policy legal work. But it's always been the work that has interested me more since it's important to bring up civil conflicts within the country and try to help as much as possible. But learning about where we came from in terms of The United States vs the civil policies of Illea was an interesting course for me, especially because of the overlap of History and Political Science.

*he nods as she talks, thinking that all over* I think work guided what classes I liked as well. Because beyond national politics, I also have to think about international politics, trade agreements, and maintaining Illéa’s position in the world.

*seems slightly surprised* so you actually liked your major? I assumed you just were kinda forced to pick it

I was kind of forced to, but I could still pick the classes that interested me more. *He shrugs* Plus I really enjoyed my marketing major.

*thinks for a moment* Can I ask you something and have an honest answer? No bullshit PR answer. I'm just trying to figure out if we can trust you to be our future king through this, at the very least.

Sure *he nods, pursing his lips a little* Ask away.

Do you actually want to be the king of this country? Like aside from the perks you have from it, do you care about the work?

I do care. *he pauses, swallowing* I really do. It’s just...it’s a lot of pressure to accept from a young age.

*she thinks for a moment* Noted. Thank you for your honesty. *Looks at the basketball* Do you play much?

*he smiles kind of sadly* Not as much as I used to. I’ve gotten a little busy helping to run the country, and such.

*gets an idea* Do you wanna make a bet with me?

*he grins* Depends on what it is

Basketball. I'm working on a program right now with the ICLU, a coworker wants to come visit me and discuss about it but appreantly work visits aren't allowed during this. If I can get more hoops in you'll arrange that?

*he furrows his brows* Better yet, I could just organize for your coworker to visit under the guise of another event going on. Just give me a few weeks to work out the details.

*kinda chuckles because shes competitive* oh? Youre scared you'll lose? But if that's what you prefer

*he laughs* No, I just know I’d win, and I’d hate to deny you the ability to see your coworker

Fine. You'll set up the meeting, then I'll just prove to you that I would win had their beem stakes.

*he narrows his eyes at her, extending a hand to shake, still grinning* Deal

*shakes it firmly then kicks off her heels planning to walk to the court barefoot.* Would be an unfair advantage for me to still be in them

*he raises his eyebrows* Why, they helped square up the height difference between us, at the very least *he chuckles*

*almost elbows him over that but barely stops herself* I don't need that help. I'm perfectly capable of crushing you independent of my shoes

*he laughs* I played basketball in uni, you know?

As did I. Well- not in a club. A guy who I was *ponders for a moment* acquainted with, played it therefore I played with him and his friends fairly often

*he raises his eyebrows* And how tall was your acquaintance? Because I’m used to playing with people my height, but also my mom and sister, who are - *he puts his hand somewhere around his shoulder because they’re 5’4” and 5’5”* - about this tall

He was around 6'3. His friends the same or more. Don't worry I'm well aware of the disadvantage of my height and very prepared to utilize it

*he chuckles* Oh, I’ve got to see this. *when they get to the court he starts dribbling the ball casually, walking towards the middle of the court* Do you want to start with the ball, or should I?

*thinks for a moment and puts her shoes down on the edge of the court and rolls up the bottoms of her dress pants a bit* You can start with it.

*he raises his eyebrows at her rolling up her dress pants, but he nods* Okay, if you insist. *he waits until he’s ready before starting the play*

*she walks up prepared to steal since she cant block*

*he starts dribbling more seriously, quickly maneuvering around her, taking three large steps with the ball, and then shoots a basket, and it goes in*

*she kinda huffs about that dislikes. But once he has the ball again she tries again, this time getting it and doing her UNDER THE LEGS MOVE AND SHOOTS*

*he turns around, a little in shock* That is not a legal move!

Hmmm *puts her finger to her chin very smug* I dont think it explicitly says in the rules that you're not allowed too. You use your height I'll use mine *VERY SMUG*

*he narrows his eyes* Fine, best 2 out of 3? Whoever gets this next shot wins, then

*SHES BEING COCKY NOW* Aw is the wittle princey calling it quits so soon? His fragile ego damaged? *bats her eyes teasingly*

*he narrows his eyes* Fine, best three out of five, then. *he starts dribbling the ball right from here he is, and it’s a long shot to his basket from there, but he’s pretty confident, so he goes for it, and somehow it actually goes in. he raises his eyebrows at her* Still think you’re gonna win?

*crosses her arms* That was luck. *goes to get the ball since shes closer*

Or just sheer skill. *he smirks a little*

*turns to face him just to roll her eyes and gets the ball. She then dribbles it back to the middle or something idk how basketball works*

*he follows her to the middle, standing in front of her, knees bent in that “ready” position idk wtf it’s called lmao*

*that position makes knees wide so she dribbles and goes to do her fast under the leg move again*

*he sees it coming this time, and takes a few steps back, keeps his arm in front of him to reach for the ball, which he gets, and then dribbles across to the the hoop he has to score in, taking the shot, and watching it go in again. he grabs the ball as it bounces back up, raising his brows at savannah* One more, or are you good? *he grins a little*

*huffs again and crosses her arm* Fine we'll call it at 3 to 1. But in my defense it's been awhile.

*he grins* Well, you’re always welcome to practice out here with me, if you want.

I can't tell if you're being taunting or not *rolls her eyes and walks up to him then holds out her hand to shake for the end of the game*

*he takes her hand and shakes, then gives her a genuine smile* No taunting. I mean it. I’d love to have someone new to play with.

I'll consider it then. I am getting slightly bored of your homes running path for exercise.

*smiles back even tho she doesnt wanna because it was a nice offer*

*he tilts his head from side to side* Yeah, the running trail through the gardens is kind of short. There are better ones /in/ Angeles, if you ever want to check them out

Not sure I'm allowed to just waltz on out of here, but I'd love the names of any you know. My grandmother lives near her so I'm sure I'll be visiting soon enough after this if not immediately so.

*he shrugs* I could also drive you sometime, if you want. I /do/ have a car.

*seems a bit surprised* You know how to drive?

*he furrows his brows* Of course! I got my license as soon as I was legally allowed to.

But its not like you need too? Don't you have like drivers?

*he looks a little confused and taken aback* I’m sure some exist, but why would I want someone else to drive me when I could be free and drive myself?

I'm not sure. I just know rich people, like for example my cousin *mumbles for a moment to find the phrasing* So my grandmother is in charge of the Mars Candy Corporation. My mom's older brother Nathaniel will be taking over it, his kids also my cousins all have drivers. They're like twenty something now but Jackson is always bragging about how he doesn't have to take the effort to drive himself places. I just assumed other people who could afford them would have them, especially busy people who could work instead of drive.

*he blinks* Wow, I never even would have considered that. *he shakes his head* No, I like driving. Being able to roll the windows down and blast the music...it’s like a few moments of freedom. *he shrugs, smiling a little sadly*

*she noticed the smile then something clicks* so freedom is your vice. You act out to feel free, thus the partying. You mentioned earlier the responsibility of being a prince being am influence on the partying. A lack of freedom makes sense. *she knows shes getting too personal but her curiosity and worry for the future gets the best of her* But what does that mean you're going to do when you're king? You'll have even less. How do you plan to maintain that restriction without bursting and needing freedom?

*he stiffens a little at her analysis because damn it’s spot on, but sighs towards the end* Getting as much out of life as I can now. I always knew what my future held for me. So I can plan accordingly. *he forces a small grin, trying to joke* Besides, with any luck, I’ll be old and almost out of energy by the time I’m king.

*furrows her eyebrows concerned* That doesn't work. *sighs* Believe me I'd know. But we aren't wired to run off memories. Instead we develop habits and coping mechanisms. Everyone snaps from time to time, you'll go back to what made you happy last. For you I assume that'll be partying. Which is something you can't do as king, and assuming it wont be till your old isn't right either, regardless of if that was a joke it's not something that you can lean on since millions of people could be relying on you and you'd be unprepared. You are going to be king, You are not going to have freedom, you are going to be under immense pressure and responsibility, honest answer, what are you going to do when you need to snap?

*he narrows his eyes at her, this time more out of irritation than anything else, and he’s a little sarcastic* Gee, thanks for the reminder. Though, for the record, I /haven’t/ partied since uni, and I have no plans to in the near future. So perhaps I’ll rely on my other coping mechanism, such as basketball, or taking a drive.

Yeah well it's the truth and uni wasn't that long ago. It's hard to break habits. I mean I partied like 4 times a month in undergrad and I still use it. That was forever ago but that's not how humans work. You're gonna lean on what you've leaned on. You're going to get shitfaced, you're going to want what you used to have, you're gonna idolize those times in uni and want them back. But you're not going to have it and it's going to be hard and shitty but you have to tough it out because of the country that relies on you and this is proving to me that you're not going to be a reliable King for the people who need you.

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dannyphantomisameme · 7 years ago

Text

DNA TEST (Part 1)

"Please do not open the packets unless instructed to do so!

"Dash Baxter,

"Tucker Foley,

"Star Fredrickson,

"…. I said, do not open the packets…" Mr. Smith (haha basic name) groaned as he saw his students begin to open the packets after strictly instructing them not to. Danny reluctantly sat in his seat, waiting for his name to be called. Biology was a boring class, he often felt the need to just make up an excuse to get out, but he needed the attendance for his grade. It was on the verge of failure. Currently he was balancing his pencil on his finger, the lead pressed against his skin.

"Daniel Fenton" Mr. Smith shouted over the commotion of the classroom as Danny's pencil fell. He sighed and hopped out of his seat, shuffling towards the front of the room. He grabbed the paper from his teacher's hand and returned to his desk. His eyes roamed the object, but he could not gather any new information from it.

Finally, after Mr. Smith finished handing out all the packets, he instructed the students to open them. Danny flipped through the pages slowly, looking for possible information that would free him of his boredom.

He stared at the numbers, not comprehending the message they were conveying. He looked over to Sam whose eyes darted from side to side as she read her packet.

"Now class, let's go through it together. On the second page you will see your ethnicities. Such as 15% German or 25% Chinese." Mr. Smith paused for a moment, giving students the opportunity to read their results.

Danny turned back to his own sheet. 35% British, 30% German, 25% Irish, 5% Italian, and 5% unknown. Ok, so now I know I'm white. He chuckled a bit at his own joke. It wasn't like he was going to find any shocking evidence from this packet. It was only a DNA test. Unless his ghost half decided to screw things up.

He glanced over at Sam's paper on his right, but he couldn't read the small font. He then switched over to Tucker who was reading his paper thoroughly. He wanted to talk to his friends, but they seemed preoccupied. Danny eased back in his chair, waiting for the teacher's next direction.

"On page 3 you will find the DNA sequences that matches your mother as well the traits you two share. One page four you will see the DNA sequences that match with your father. Go ahead and look through the rest of the packet if you want. It includes any specific details or abnormalities the test may have found. After you're done, work on your assignments till the end of class." With that final declaration, Mr. Smith sat down on his desk chair with a soft thud.

Danny flipped to the next page and eyed his and his mother's matching genotype. There were tons of similarities, including skin color, nose shape, body traits, etc. About 45% of Danny's DNA matched with his mom. He flipped to the next page and immediately furrowed his eyebrows. Barely any of Danny's DNA matched his father. Other than the hair color and the eyes, he was nothing like his father. The test gave him a 10% similarity between the two.

Danny clutched his papers in his hand and stood up, walking towards the front of the room. He stopped at Mr. Smith's desk and slid the paper onto its surface. "Mr. Smith? I have a question…"

"How can I help you Daniel?" the teacher said as he swiveled away from his computer to face his student.

"This doesn't make sense." Danny said pointing to the page with his and his father's DNA. Mr. Smith pushed his glasses up his nose and picked up the packet, scrutinizing it thoroughly. He placed the papers down and slid them towards Danny.

"I don't know what to tell you Daniel. I'll look into the testing program and ask them." Mr. Smith said with a smile. Danny just nodded and returned to his seat in the back of the classroom.

"What was that about?" Sam asked as he sat down.

"Nothing… I just didn't understand something." Danny said avoiding telling the entire truth. Sam simply nodded in reply and returned to her paper. Danny flipped to the next page in his packet. There were no outstanding abnormalities, other than a few never before seen pieces of DNA. Probably my ghost half,he thought.

As Danny continued reading the rest of the packet the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. The trio filed out of the classroom with the other students, each member going to their respective lockers. They grabbed the materials they each needed to take home and met up at the front door.

Danny shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked down the stairs and out of the school. The leaves on the ground crunched under their footsteps as the chilly fall wind flew through their hair. Sam zipped up her jacket as Danny lifted the hood of his sweatshirt and placed it upon his head, hiding his face under his bangs.

Sam and Tucker chatted about their classes as they walked while Danny kept silent. He stared at his muddy red converse as they strolled. The other two didn't bother to question his silence, already sensing he wouldn't tell them even if they asked. When they reached a fork in the sidewalk, the members said their goodbyes as they each left for their respective houses. Today was Wednesday, meaning they wouldn't hang out after school with all the homework they received.

Danny took out his phone from his pocket and plugged in his earbuds. He needed to redirect his thoughts and he knew music would help him do just that. He placed the earbuds into his ears and pressed the shuffle button on his Spotify playlist. He nodded his head to the rhythm of some super catchy theme song. Yo Danny Fenton he was just 14 when his parents built a very strange machine… (I swear it isn't young, Bitch Fartman is a liar) Surprisingly, the lyrics matched his life accurately. Even the song was about a dude who had the same name as him. Haha… wait… never mind.

He looked around at his environment. A group of children were playing in the driveway of a house across the street. Two of them were chasing the other three in circles and holding their hands up as if they were guns. Danny chuckled at the scene, reminding him of his childhood. He, Tuck, and Sam used to play cops and robbers all the time. Danny turned and saw an elderly woman gardening in her front lawn. When she noticed him, Danny waved as a smile crawled across his features. Danny recognized the woman, one he had saved after a ghost attack at the mall. She waved back in reply. He strutted along the gray sidewalk until he reached his house. The trees in the front yard displayed vibrant colors of red and orange in their leaves; few leaves littered the dying grass.

Danny walked up the stairs and brought his house keys out from his pocket. Unlocking the front door, he slammed it shut once he was inside. "MOOOOOMMM I'M HOME!" he yelled as he chucked his backpack onto the couch. He entered the kitchen and opened the fridge. He immediately closed the fridge. Yesterday's dinner was reanimated again. He sighed and went to the cupboard, grabbing some bread and made a quick PB and J sandwich. He didn't necessarily like toast, but it was the only food in the house that was edible.

He chewed on his sandwich as he entered the basement. He really hated this place. It terrified him with the possibilities of being dissected. His gut twisted within him, the feeling he always got when entering the lab.

"What did I tell you about bringing food into the lab?" Maddie scolded without lifting her head. She was in the back corner working on a new ghost weapon. Danny walked up to her, her face was painted with concentration.

"Fofwy.." Danny mumbled through his mouth full of bread. He quickly chomped down the remains of his sandwich and stood near his mother. He wiped his hands together, lettings the crumbs from his snack fall onto the cement floor.

"Danny you're not going to believe what this weapon can do! It's going to finally allow us to bring down Phantom!" Maddie excitedly exclaimed as she held up the invention. Danny hesitantly took a step back, hoping his mother didn't notice. "I've calibrated this gun to shoot ectoblasts so powerful that they exceed his ecto entity level! He'll never see it coming!" Maddie held up the machine and cocked it, as if ready to shoot, peering through the eye hole with one eye open.

"That's great mom…" Danny said off to the side. He did not want to get in the way of that. "Uh mom, I uh- can you take a look at this?" Danny fumbled through his pocket and grabbed the crumbled-up packet. He handed it over to his mom as she pushed her goggles up onto her head. She raised an eyebrow at him before accepting the packet and looking it over. Danny quietly waited for a response, fidgeting with his hands behind his back. The only noise within the lab was the sound of paper being flipped to the next page.

Maddie's eyes went wide for a moment as she placed the papers down. She stared at it intently, her body going stiff without motion. A minute of silence passed as Danny looked at his mother questioningly. Multiple emotions clouded her face as she tried to understand. She suddenly glanced at Danny, her eyes a hazy violet.

"I-" she choked up as tears threatened to emerge from her eyes. "I'm sorry Danny. I – I didn't know…"

"Mom, what are you talking about?" Danny said anxiously as he took a step forward. His mother burst into nonsensical mutterings.

"I didn't mean to! It – it wasn't supposed to mean anything! I didn't think to check. I – I" She stuttered as her hands flew up to her face, covering her emotions effectively.

Danny stood there uselessly, unable to comprehend his mothers' words. "Mom you're not making sense!" He shouted over her mumbling.

"I thought you were Jack's!" She exclaimed as her hands immediately jumped to cover her mouth. Danny felt his world crumble upon him, the weight of his mother's words heavy upon his shoulders. He felt his heart skip a beat within his chest. The dread rose up within his being, enveloping his mind.

"Who's my father…" he whispered in the silence. He couldn't even look his mother in the eye. He glared at the papers, the source of this new revelation. His mothers' sobs were the only thing audible in the quiet.

"It was a one-time thing! He said he would in exchange for some crucial parts… We needed them Danny! Jack would have been devastated!"

"Who's my father!" Danny said furiously as he lunged forward and grabbed his mother by her hazmat suit. He was taller than her now, easily towering over her. The fabric felt uncomfortable bunched up in his hands. He suddenly let go, realizing the brute of his actions and taking a step back. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the ground, a nervous habit of his.

Maddie stood there dismayed, staring at her son with wide eyes. The word reluctantly rolled off her lips, crushing her son into a million pieces. Maddie suddenly felt weak, her knees buckling as she dropped to the ground. Her hand ran through her hair as she held the table for support with the other hand. She closed her eyes for a moment, but before she could say anything, he was already gone...

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vikrantbhagat · 5 years ago

Text

Peanut Allergy:Why People Are Most Affected By It?

Oveview

It's normal nowadays to discover schools that have pronounced they are "sans nut" That implies the onetime staple of children's lunchboxes — a nutty spread and jam sandwich — is mysteriously gone on school grounds. That is on the grounds that peanuts can cause a dangerous response in certain individuals. Peanuts are one of the food allergens most usually connected with hypersensitivity, an abrupt and conceivably dangerous condition that requires prompt consideration and treatment.

There are a few misguided judgments about nut sensitivities. For instance, a nut is a vegetable (having a place with a similar family as soybeans, peas and lentils), not a tree nut. And keeping in mind that it was recently accepted that a sensitivity to peanuts was long lasting, research has appeared at 20 percent of people with a nut hypersensitivity in the end grow out of it.

Nut sensitivity is one of the most well-known reasons for extreme hypersensitivity assaults. For certain individuals with nut hypersensitivity, even small measures of peanuts can cause a genuine response that can even be perilous (hypersensitivity).

What is Peanut Allergy?

A nut hypersensitivity is a response that happens when your body erroneously recognizes peanuts as unsafe substances. At the point when you eat peanuts or food containing peanuts, your insusceptible framework — the body's characteristic guard framework that battles contaminations and maladies—goes overboard and can cause a genuine, even hazardous reaction.

3MEDS-online pharmacy store in India,is concerned with health and fitness of their customers and therefore believes in providing knowledge about healthcare to their customers.

How regular is a Peanut hypersensitivity?

This pervasiveness of peanut hypersensitivity has expanded altogether over the previous decade, most remarkably in westernized nations. The pervasiveness of nut hypersensitivity in westernized nations is around 0.5%, with the best commonness in youngsters under 3 years old. This expansion in commonness has additionally happened with other unfavorably susceptible conditions, for example, skin inflammation (atopic dermatitis), asthma, and feed fever (hypersensitive rhinitis). Nut hypersensitivity is considerably less basic in immature regions of the world, for example, Africa and Asia. Rising writing recommends that the expanding pace of nut hypersensitivity might be leveling off in numerous countries, including the United States.

Side effects Of Peanut Allergy

An unfavorably susceptible reaction to peanuts for the most part happens inside minutes after presentation. Nut hypersensitivity signs and indications can include:

Vomiting

Stomach cramps

Indigestion

Diarrhea

Wheezing

Shortness of breath, trouble relaxing

Repetitive hack

Tightness in throat, rough voice

Weak beat

Pale or blue shading of the skin

Hives

Swelling, can influence the tongue or potentially lips

Dizziness

Confusion

Anaphylaxis-Life-Threatening Reactions

Some unfavorably susceptible responses are extreme and perilous. This sort of unfavorably susceptible response is known as hypersensitivity. You may have any of the side effects portrayed above, just as:

swollen throat

trouble relaxing

drop in circulatory strain

racing heart beat

confusion

dizziness

loss of cognizance

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Causes

Nut sensitivity happens when your resistant framework erroneously distinguishes nut proteins as something destructive. Immediate or aberrant contact with peanuts makes your resistant framework discharge manifestation causing synthetic compounds into your circulatory system.

Peanut allergy can happen due to many reasons

Direct contact. The most well-known reason for nut hypersensitivity is eating peanuts or nut containing nourishments. Some of the time direct skin contact with peanuts can trigger an unfavorably susceptible response.

Cross-contact. This is the unintended presentation of peanuts into an item. It's commonly the consequence of a food being presented to peanuts during preparing or taking care of.

Inhalation. A hypersensitive response may happen in the event that you breathe in residue or pressurized canned products containing peanuts, from a source, for example, nut flour or nut oil cooking shower.

Hazard factors

It isn't clear why a few people create hypersensitivities while others don't. In any case, individuals with certain hazard factors have a more prominent possibility of creating nut hypersensitivity. Nut hypersensitivity chance components include:

Age. Food hypersensitivities are generally normal in youngsters, particularly little children and newborn children. As you become more established, your stomach related framework develops, and your body is more averse to respond to food that triggers hypersensitivities.

Past sensitivity to peanuts. A few kids with nut hypersensitivity grow out of it. Be that as it may, regardless of whether you appear to have grown out of nut hypersensitivity, it might repeat.

Other sensitivities. In case you're as of now adversely affected by one food, you might be at expanded danger of getting susceptible to another. In like manner, having another sort of sensitivity, for example, roughage fever, builds your danger of having a food hypersensitivity.

Family individuals with sensitivities. You're at expanded danger of nut hypersensitivity if different sensitivities, particularly different sorts of food sensitivities, are normal in your family.

Atopic dermatitis. A few people with the skin condition atopic dermatitis (skin inflammation) likewise have a food sensitivity.

Treatment

Palforzia is essentially peanut flour in pill form.Aimmune Therapeutics is the company behind the drug, and the purpose of the pill is to reduce the severity of allergic reactions (including anaphylaxis) by ingesting daily microdoses of peanut powder.

Home Remedies For Peanut Allergy

One of the keys to forestalling an unfavorably susceptible response is realizing how to maintain a strategic distance from the food that causes your manifestations. Follow these means:

Never expect that a food doesn't contain peanuts. Peanuts might be in nourishments that you had no clue contained them. Continuously read marks on fabricated nourishments to ensure they don't contain peanuts or nut items. Fabricated nourishments are required to obviously state whether nourishments contain any peanuts and on the off chance that they were created in plants that additionally procedure peanuts.

Don't overlook a name that says a food was delivered in a production line that forms peanuts. The vast majority with a nut sensitivity need to maintain a strategic distance from all items that could contain even follow measures of peanuts.

When in question, say "no way." At eateries and parties, you're continually facing a challenge that you may inadvertently eat peanuts. Numerous individuals don't comprehend the earnestness of an unfavorably susceptible food response, and may not understand that a little measure of a food can cause a serious response. In the event that you are at all stressed that a food may contain something you're hypersensitive to, don't attempt it.

Be arranged for a response. Talk with your primary care physician about conveying crisis meds if there should arise an occurrence of an extreme response.

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Finishing Lines

As indicated by ongoing examinations, there is solid proof that acquainting in danger infants with peanuts as right on time as 4 to a half year old enough may decrease their danger of creating food hypersensitivities by up to 80%. Infants in danger for nut hypersensitivity incorporate those with mellow to extreme skin inflammation, egg sensitivity, or both. Before acquainting your infant with peanuts, talk about the best methodology with your kid's primary care physician.

-Vikrant Bhagat

#3MEDS #peanutallergy #besthealthcarecomapnyinindia #Anaphylaxis #24hoursmedicinedelivery #Palforzia #vomatting

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