she is just like really smart

All right, everyone, buckle up: it’s the Workplace AU.

There are no superheroes. There are only board meetings. And coffee.

Bruce is the serious and completely competent CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He’s well on his way to making the company a Global 2000, but… there are some hurdles. 

His staff. They are the hurdles. 

Most of his employees are either hard workers or unremarkable. It’s the few who who can’t be lumped solely into either category that are the problem.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Omg Hillary is gonna turn 70- it sounds like such an enormous age but at the same time she’s so hot and smart and delicious. Is it just that society makes us see 70yo people as ancient or is Hillary an exception?

There are a lot of very beautiful and interesting 70 year old women, and I think that intellectual charm is the key to staying attractive through the passage of time: the sheer beauty and interestingness really shines through and makes people glow.
Nobody finds a moody, snappy person charning, but it somehow can get masked when one is younger and more superficially deemed “attractive” (but tbh I lust after HRC even now and I can’t stand young people who are like that, but apparently others can ).
Anyway she is amazing 😍

This is a call out post

Happy birthday to the lovely and amazing @ilovefoodandgirls


-one of the kindest people I actually know?

-gorgeous, just, sexy and really pretty and wowie damn?

-did you know she made an amazing career change and is changing kids lives?

-wicked smart, like knows her shit and tells you like it is?

-great taste in everything! Drinks, food, lingerie, plushies!

-awesome writer! Her stuff is so genuine and unfolds really naturally!!

-so thankful to have this gorgeous, amazing, loving soul in my life


I love you, sweetie

Favorite LGBTQ+ Ships in TLC

So, it’s lgbttlc week, and I want to shine some light on my absolute favorite LGBT ships in this fandom:the holy trinity of kaiswell, cressder, and emiko. Why do I find them so awesome?

Cressder is just so so cute. I can imagine them sleeping snuggled up next to each other and doing all sorts of cute couple shit. Not to mention that they’re both so smart that they’d talk to each other a lot about mechanics and programming and the like, and they’d be scary to go up against just as a duo let alone as a couple. They complement each other really well, and both of them had such terrible childhoods that it would be a relief to find someone who feels the same way. Cress is so sweet and soft-hearted that she would crack Cinder’s tough-cookie exterior, and Cinder would love Cress unconditionally. There’s literally so many possibilities for them to get together, and all of them are so cute!!

Kaiswell has some definite canon evidence, which is part of why I like it, but the other part is that the two are such opposites, but also very similar. Like Thorne’s a wanted fugitive who’s dated every girl that looked at him(but he’s always liked guys too and was super confused), and was brought up in a cold, unloving household. Kai is royalty who’s had a relationship with 1(1) girl and has to be a Good Role Model™ his whole darn life, and was raised in a loving family despite being under the public eye. But they’re both very analytical and, despite what Thorne would say, caring. Their thought processes are probably pretty similar, although with different methods of expression. They would be the couple that is always lightheartedly arguing.

Emiko is brilliant in and of that the fandom took two characters with exactly one interaction that hadn’t been paired up with anyone else and just started making content. That being said, their personalities are pretty similar:both are very cheery and loyal. In Cinder and Scarlet’s lives respectively they light up any room they enter, and together they’d shine even brighter. Also, Kiko is bs so jot that down(unless we’re talking Iko x Tressa, then sign me up). Not to mention that they’d be such a power couple. I highkey expect them to open up a joint fashion line or something when they start dating. Cute shopping dates and surprising each other with flowers would be some things they’d do when dating.

@lgbttlcweek

Hey guys! I’m writing a long our world reader insert Ignis fic and I need some help. I’m writing a character that’s related to Sania, not as you but as an OC that helps move the story along and may pop up again later. Anyway I’m just going to put it plainly. Can I describe her as black? She is a black Woman so can I say that? That’s what I’d say in conversation, that’s what we would say in England, but I don’t want to accidentally insult anyone. I googled for if it’s ok to describe a character as black but it’s just a bunch of white people saying ‘of course’, and honestly it’s not for us to say it’s ok really. I’d write dark skinned but I feel like that’s skirting around who she is, to me she’s going to be a smart enterprising black woman, if I say dark skinned it feels kind of brushing her race under the rug….

anonymous asked:

my crush lives on my floor and we eat dinner together almost every night. sometimes I'm afraid I'm getting on her nerves but then she keeps asking me out!! it's not like a date though, it's just as friends. anyway I'm pretty sure she's not straight and that she might like me back but I'm too chicken to make a move. but she's really cute and smart and funny and I just love being around her

 at first i read “my crush eats dinner off the floor” and i didn’t even question it lmao but anyway she sounds adorable and you should find out for sure if she likes girls!!

my mom has a friend who has a failed program-service dog and he’s literally my favorite creature

He’s a really smart lab, he learned all the commands, but he just has an affinity for doing them whenever he wants

So this lady’s dog literally turns on-off lights, opens doors, opens the fridge, etc… at his own wishes.

Her house looks like its baby-proofed, with kid safe locks on everything and stuff, but really she just has a dog that’s learned all the mobility service dog commands but has a mind of his own.

my mom was talking about how she didn’t like a series of unfortunate events that much because it falls into the “adults are stupid” trope which she doesn’t think is realistic and i… really just don’t know how to explain to her that the point isn’t that adults are stupid, it’s that children don’t get listened to. some of the adults in the series are actually very smart, their problem is that even the good and decent adults in the series seem to staunchly refuse to believe the baudelaire children are just as smart as they are, or that they may know what they’re talking about, out of the sheer fact that the baudelaire children are children. it isn’t always a story of “adults are stupid, kids are smart, kids rule, adults suck,” it’s a story of “children are often mistreated or taken advantage of or at the very least condescended to, and don’t get their voices heard because adults don’t trust them enough to validate a child saying they are in an unfair or even abusive situation”

the princess stayed in the tower and read books about better girls, where their hands learned how to hold swords, where they rode in on horses. i gave her books as often as i could. she devoured them.

her princes saw her and pretended to be scared off by dragons. got too lost in the thicket. didn’t want to handle it.

“tell me what it’s like, out there,” she whispers to me for the millionth time. i take her from The Throne into her bed, tucking her in and making sure her feet are covered. 

“boring without you” i say as always, “but i did bring back a great story.”

i tell her about how the stars change beyond the equator. how there are places it looks like there are twin suns. how the desert crawls into you but so does snow. i talk about the taste of fruit and promise to bring her back some. she falls asleep while i murmur about rivers, and then in the morning i bring her from bed to Throne, even though she can do it on her own. sometimes she likes help, is all, and i’m happy to give it. 

she doesn’t want help getting dressed. the men come for me, blindfold masters i have almost befriended. the path we take away from her is always different, carefully manufactured so i don’t know exactly where she’s located. after all, a lady might get ideas about things.

they let me go in the queen’s room. i report findings, ask for fruit in the next week’s supplies, am told not to spoil the princess, that she must be kind and waifish and wanting when the prince comes. i spend an hour suggesting that fruit might turn the blood sweeter and am allowed six oranges.

in the next week, she marvels over them. turns them in her calloused hands. smells them. holds them until she can’t control her curiosity, devours them. i bring her books about rivers. i bring her books about deserts. 

“when is our birthday?” she asks me tonight. i’m knitting her a scarf for it.

“soon,” i tell her, “i’ll come by.”

she rolls onto one side, looks up at me in the dimming light. “I’m glad they chose you to be mine,” she says, and i drop a stitch. my heart sings against the inside of my wrists. i blow out a candle so she can’t see the blush and i can’t see her lips. i know what she means, i say. i know what she means.

it’s twenty-three for both of us. i bring her a cake we both eat, her on her throne and me on the floor. i am in the middle of laughing when she falls silent in the still night. “nobody else ever comes for me,” she whispers. i say nothing.

we have more cake, we go to sleep. i don’t know if she knows i’m awake, but i hear her crying.

the men come, the men take me. the one that smells like cedar always laughs at my jokes. the queen half-hates me because i remind her of “that nasty thing” they forced on their daughter. 

“the left wheel needs oil,” i mention, “she’s having trouble turning again.”

the queen’s nose goes up. she never reacts when i mention her daughter’s wheelchair by name - doesn’t find it funny we call it a throne, thinks it’s well enough to leave alone.

“well, she’ll have a prince in this next month coming for her,” says the queen, “i’ve arranged it all,” says the queen, “he’s … had the situation explained to him first this time. i thought it would be best,” says the queen. “we’re paying him…. quite a lot for his effort,” says the queen.

situation. she means that her daughter can’t walk very far. she means the situation of towers. i excuse myself. i find my girl books about turning down marriage. i’m not sure why. it’s all she’s ever wanted.

they blindfold me and take me. cedar laughs at my jokes. the sawdust one is here this time, even he chuckles at a few. we ride horses through places i’ll never see clearly. 

“so according to the queen this is the last time i’m needed, huh?” i ask them as they walk me blindly up too many stairs for my girl to make it down, “i’m sorry i never made your acquaintance.”

cedar laughs. he takes off my blindfold and for a second, lets me see his face. “it’s been an honor,” he says, shaking my hand, “you’ve been a perfect lady.”

i spend the day with my princess pretending i am not peeling apart from my bones. i just want her to be happy. to get to come home. 

it’s late. “do you think in a past life i was a mermaid?” she asks.

“almost definitely,” i tell her. 

it’s quiet for a while after. “what if,” she whispers, “i don’t want to leave?”

i sit up and look at her from across the room. 

“it’s just,” she says, “i have you here and all the books i need and nobody makes me walk too long and i don’t feel like… like i’m wrong here.”

i want to tell her she’s never been wrong. that she’s always fit into my heart like a puzzle piece. that, more importantly, the leadership i see in her glows like a fire - that, no matter her body, she’s always been kind and gentle and smart and sweet. a princess that could bring a nation to her feet and do so lovingly.

“it will be okay,” i say, “there’s more fruit to discover.”

she doesn’t say anything. i think i’ve ruined something by accident, but i don’t know what. i don’t really sleep. i don’t say anything when the men come take me.

the world outside without her is boring. no mermaids. i put my hand in a river once a day, just thinking about her. 

two weeks later i am awoken by my name, and a voice i recognize perfectly. cedar stands above me in the darkness. “i know two things in this world,” he says to me, “and one of them is about love.”

this time we make the trip without blindfolds. i see the squalor they keep her in. i see the waste surrounding her castle, the terrible place she’s in. rage fuels my footsteps even when they start flagging. 

the prince is already there. he has dropped her twice, cedar tells me. i am already running up the stairs even though i can barely breathe. i hear her crying through the door and i don’t need to get ready - the fire that starts in me burns so brightly.

i roar inside. turn dragon and beat back prince with girl made rage. the bruises on her body turn me into giant snake. i eat the man alive, or at least i chase him from the place, never to be seen again. later i will hear a rumor about a demon that stole the princess from him.

she cries into my arms. i take her down every single stair. i hear her murmur her thanks into my hair and then i kiss her, because i can’t handle it, because i have places to show her and she has my heart to lead.

my house isn’t much but it’s near a river. she likes putting her hands into it. i take her places when she is able, and otherwise i bring the places back. we read books together. cedar no longer works for the queen, but he’d rather live with the man of sawdust making tiny wooden figurines.

i lie in bed next to her, stroking her soft hair. “do you think i was a centaur in a past life?” she asks.

“definitely,” i tell her, and kiss her, gently. she holds my face and pulls herself closer to me.

“will i be a good queen? i mean, in this life?”

“i’m certain of it,” i reply. i can hear the truth ring in it. the bone-deep certainty.

she’s quiet for a moment. “you saved me,” she whispers, “and usually we’d end up married. but…”

i don’t know how to answer that. i feel ice down my spine suddenly.

“i’m not demanding, is all,” her voice shakes, “i’m asking this time. for you to choose me. for me to be yours, i mean. and for you to be mine. permanently.”

the next birthday we celebrate, we are both queens.

So this is a totally useless rant, but as a skinny girl, I’m getting extra, extra tired of fat-shaming.

I work for a corsetier at a Renaissance Faire. We sell corsets. Not flimsy bullshit costume corsets; like real, durable, waist-training corsets. Today a woman came in with her boyfriend, so I helped her pick out a corset and try it on. While her boyfriend—who was decidedly enthused about the whole corset thing—sat watching me lace her in, he told me, grinning, “Of all the good jobs at the Renaissance Faire, I think you have the best.”

I shrugged in agreement. “I touch butts and reach down cleavage all day; I mean…” Because we like to be a bit rakish at the Faire, and, y’know, it’s true. Tying people into corsets pretty much invariably requires getting handsy.

The couple laughed at that, and the boyfriend said, “That’s the job I would want!” But then he chuckled again and said, offhand, “Or maybe not; while we were looking at the racks, there were some pretty big sizes on there!”

Our sizes are all done in inches, and the biggest we make is a 46. And you’d better believe our large sizes sell. For a second I wasn’t sure what to say to the guy’s comment, but I answered him casually. “We get a lot of beautiful big ladies in here.” Because we do. “We make corsets for real women, not Barbie dolls,” I added. Wasn’t trying to be smart, just kind of tossed it out there because that’s the line we like to use when people ask about larger sizes, and because, again, we do.

The boyfriend went quiet at that; I didn’t think anything of it, I just kept on lacing. A moment later, he said, a little awkwardly (but sincerely enough), “Didn’t mean to be offensive.”

I quickly smiled and brushed it off, said he wasn’t, said I was just saying. (Don’t want to make the customers uncomfortable, you know?) And that was the end of it. His comment had rubbed me the wrong way, but it wasn’t a big deal. Now, I wear a 20-inch corset. I’m a few cup sizes short of being one of the Barbie dolls. Like his girlfriend, I’m one of the “hot chicks”; he doesn’t have to worry about offending me by implying that I wouldn’t be fun to poke and pull at.

Honestly though, of all the people I fit sexy technically-undergarments to in a day, fat girls are maybe my favorite people to lace up. Because they are just so damn happy that we have stuff that fits them. They are so damn happy that the corsets we make in their sizes are all the same pretty, shiny colors and cool flower/dragon/skull/etc. prints that the smaller corsets are, not ugly beige and boring “granny” colors. They are so goddamn happy that at least one (of several on the grounds) corset shop carries things that they can wear, that they actually want to wear, and that they look fucking awesome in. This is only my second season working, and we’ve fit 60+ inch waists and double-K busts. The only people we’ve ever had to tell sorry, we don’t have anything that fits them, are twelve-year-old kids.

It’s half-wonderful, half-heartbreaking how excited those women get. Women who say with sad smiles, when we ask if they want to get fitted, “Oh, no, you don’t have anything that fits me,” and then are stunned when we’re 300% confident that yes we do, and we have options. Women who can’t stop smiling and looking at themselves in the mirror after we’ve got them laced in.

I had a lady last week whose waist I measured (cinching the tape tight, as per procedure) at 41 inches—honestly not all that big. So she picked out a 41-inch corset to try on. I could tell halfway through getting her laced that it was going to be a bit big for her, so I mentioned it and said she might do better to try a smaller size. She started crying on the spot. She was so overwhelmed; she couldn’t believe someone had just told her that a 41 was too big. She told me about how hard clothes shopping was for her, how her mother would tell her she needed an XXXL instead of an XXL, how she had recently lost weight but still couldn’t wear certain colors because they didn’t fit or she wasn’t confident enough.

She did end up getting her corset, and after I checked her out she asked if she could give me a hug, so we ended up standing there hugging each other for a minute. While we did, I told her, “Do not ever let anyone tell you any bullshit. You are gorgeous.” She said, “I have a new boyfriend and he keeps telling me that.” I told her he was right, and to just keep telling herself she’s gorgeous; it was okay if she didn’t always believe it, but to keep telling herself anyway. (That’s how I talked myself through shit when I had bad anxiety.)

We all know fat-shaming is bad. The stupidity, fatphobia, and misogyny of it has pissed me off since I first became aware of it. But working with clothing, especially as figure-hugging and precise as corsets, has given me a new perspective on it—how much it affects people and just how shitty it is. Like, what does it say that I had a grown, only average-big woman crying into my shoulder because she was so overjoyed not to be the uppermost extremity of what a manufacturer can clothe?

My job rocks and it’s really rewarding, but sometimes it highlights some of the ugliest shit about society. I’m so glad I work at a shop that’s not bullshit about body types and operates with more people in mind than just scrawny white chicks like me. The fat women I work with are a ton of fun to lace up, and they’re so much more than their size—they’re cool, they’re smart, they’re funny, they’re sweet, they’re great to talk to, and yes, they’re hot. I’m so damn done with them getting short-changed and shamed by petty fucks who refuse to make them nice clothes, who refuse to even try to work for them, who refuse to consider them pretty. This whole rant was useless and won’t get read, but I had to vent because it’s been driving me nuts.

So actually, screw you, random dude. Fat girls are the highlight of my job.

look at me - i will never pass for a perfect bride

so i know i already made a retold mulan post but i just LOVE MULAN SO MUCH so here’s another

in the original myth mulan isn’t really a clumsy fish out of water. she’s strong and smart and the reason she goes to war is because she’s the most qualified person in her family to fight, regardless of gender.

so how about this: mulan’s a fighter. she knows exactly who she is, like in the original myth, she’s knows how to be the blossoming flower and the great stone dragon. she’s still mulan though, so she still doesn’t memorize the silly ways she’s supposed to be a good wife and has little patience for appearing graceful while pouring tea. she’s innovative and courageous and beautiful, but no one is under any illusions about what kind of wife she’ll be.

and the matchmaker is the matchmaker for the li family as well, for this great big part of china. and general li wants his son to be married before he goes off to war, wants his son to have a reason to fight to live, like a wife waiting for him. and the matchmaker reads the stars and the tea leaves and the astrology charts, and no matter what all the signs point to one thing: the honorable li shang is destined to marry the insolent, arrogant fa mulan.

the matchmaker isn’t going to let that happen, she refuses to be responsible for that disaster of a wedding. so she sends her most beautiful girls, the ones that are obedient and quiet and know their roles, the ones that are eager to marry into the li family.

and each of them are entertained and met and sent back. shang is many things, but smooth isn’t one of them, he has nothing to say to these quiet girls who smile at him, feels large and awkward around their polite smiles. so he and his father go to the matchmaker’s village, shang reluctantly and his father to demand she stops messing with them and provides a proper bride.

it’s on the day that mulan and the other girls are parading in the street. shang sees a girl - mulan - hurry into the end of the line, jumping over a bench and darting around a careening wagon to get there, and stifles a laugh.

then there’s no reason to laugh at all, because a group of huns have decided that this village is in their way, and attack.

everyone scatters, women hide, children hide, and most of the men do too. shang and his father join the fight with some of the other men who hadn’t hid, and these men are starved, clearly not with shan yu, so even though they’re outnumbered they’ll likely win.

shang sees a hun go to attack the girl he’d seen earlier, the girl for whatever reason hadn’t run and hid. the hun raises a sword above his head to strike her down, and shang is so sure he’s about to see this pretty girl lose her head.

but she doesn’t. instead she rolls out of the way, and pops up, headbutting him in the stomach. she takes his sword from his now-slack grip and plunges it into his chest. without hesitation or pause the girl joins the fight, swinging the sword expertly and cutting down every man who stands against her. soon they’re fighting back to back, and shang has never felt more in sync with another person. she cuts off the head of the last hun, and shang has never seen anyone more beautiful than this girl, dress ripped and make up smudged and covered in blood that isn’t hers.

“mulan,” one of the other girls says, peaking out of a store front, “is it over?”

the girl, mulan, looks out over the dozen dead men and says, grimly, “it’s barely begun.” she searches the crowd, finding and old man and yelling, “gather the bodies, we’ll burn that at dusk outside of the village. everyone else,” her eyes sweep across the gathered people, and shang is struck by the fact that this girl isn’t well liked. there’s anger and disapproval in many of the faces, but they’re listening. these people don’t like her. but they do trust her. “let’s clean this all up. these were bandits, not soldiers. there’s nothing more to fear.”

“what if there are more?” the other girl asks, arms wrapped around herself.

mulan raises her stolen sword and says, “then i will slice them to ribbons. this is our village, and this is our country. any who would try to take it from us - from me - will suffer the consequences.”

and it shouldn’t be comforting, hearing words of violence from this young girl, yet everyone around them relaxes, and gets moving, gather the bodies and tending the wounded.

“who are you?” his father asks, and someone who doesn’t know him might think he was angry, but shang can tell he’s impressed.

mulan turns to them and bows, “my apologies. i am fa mulan, daughter of fa zhou. thank you for helping us.” she stands, and shang meets her eyes for the first time.

he swallows, and blurts out, “you - you fight good.”

his father coughs to hide his laughter, but mulan’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “thank you. you do as well.”

and they just keep standing there smiling at each other until his father claps his hands and is like okay - they’ll have to report this to the emperor, no time to dawdle, have to go now.

so they take their leave, and shang thinks this is the last time he’ll see fa mulan.

except there’s still the draft, and this time mulan doesn’t take no for an answer, won’t hear of it. her father is injured and old and she is young and fit to fight. she will go in his place.

so she arrives at the camp, prepared to pretend and lie - except she goes to meet her commanding officer and it’s him, that boy who had fought with her. shang’s eyes widen, but they’re in front of too many people. he can see it on her face, her fear, and she hadn’t shown any fear when she was facing down over a dozen huns, but she does now. so he makes his choice and says nothing, pretends he buys her story.

she tracks him down that night and demands an explanation. he says this war is too important to kill good warriors, whatever gender they are. he swears to keep her secret. mulan is his best soldier from the beginning, and means to treat her like anyone else, but it’s impossible. she isn’t like anyone else, is strong and smarter and braver than them. they argue tactics, and she’s the only one who can give him a workout in hand to hand, and he doesn’t have trouble finding his words with her. he finds himself falling in love with her, but doesn’t say anything. she’s not here for love, she’s here for a war. he vows to say something if they survive this, but it’s unlikely that will happen.

they head to the front earlier. they get there in time to provide back up for his father and his army, and it’s a loss but not a slaughter. his father is too distracted to notice ping is the girl from the village. all he knows is this soldier had led the second wave of attacks, and it was thanks to her any of them were alive at all. they prevent half of the huns from getting through the pass, but that’s still an army heading for the imperial city. the general is injured, so mulan and shang lead the army after him.

they find him at the mountain, and just like before mulan uses the cannon to destroy the army. she knew it would spell their death, but it was worth it, for her people, for her country, for her family. this time it’s shang that won’t accept her death, that tries to drag her unconscious body to safety. only he fails, and mulan becomes buried under the snow.

they return to the city, and shang is besides himself - the woman he loves is dead, she saved them all and she’s gone, and he’ll never recover from this. only he can’t tell his father this, their friends. they think he mourns a friend, not the woman he wanted to make his wife.

except mulan survives, and sees the other huns as well. only she kills them there before they can get to the city, and decides this is for the best. fa ping dies honorably in battle, and fa mulan is free to return home to her family.

so general li decides that it’s time to go to that matchmaker again, and demand she stop playing games. the matchmaker confesses that she thought the bride was unsuitable, and the general demands she send her anyway.

so mulan has barely had the chance to settle back home when the matchmaker shows up at her door saying she’s sending her to see a potential husband, but not who. so mulan shows up all made up to li household and shang drags himself into the room, already resigned to a loveless marriage, when they see each other. “mulan?” he demands, and his father is all pleased because it’s the fighting girl from the village.

but then his son starts crying and they run to each other. shang picks her up in his arms and she clings to him, and shang is babbling about how he thought she was dead, and mulan is so overjoyed that she’s with shang, and shang wants her, that she kisses him without explaining.

except now shang’s father demands an explanation. so they give it to him, the whole story comes tumbling out, and he stares hard at her, and remembers her as ping, the brave soldier that had saved them all. he’s not upset - he ecstatic. he goes to the emperor and tells him everything, and the emperor officially offers mulan an officer position in the army. she accepts, as long as shang is by her side. shang seconds this, and they set in motion the plans for the wedding.

fa mulan and li shang get married and lead armies and live happily ever after, just like the stars intended.


read more of my retold fairytales here

where adrien flirts
  • so adrien has a little problem: he likes marinette. like he really, honest-to-god likes her, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. his track record with girls isn’t so stellar. after he confessed his feelings to ladybug as chat noir, she calmly turned him down and admitted she liked someone else. so as nino would say, without a lady to tie him down, adrien agreste is single and ready to mingle
  • but he’s always been single?? and what does mingle even mean?? like, nino, what the hell, dude?? help a man out. 
  • so nino sits him down and explains how to get his crush. with his previous crush, nino tells him, adrien obviously didn’t do it right, and that’s why she turned him down (nino doesn’t know it was ladybug, and he just likes to think adrien was crushing on a supermodel who was totally out of even his league). 
  • nino: “you gotta flirt, man. the ladies love a dude who’s chill and cool and confident. you gotta rock it and own it. you got this.”
    adrien: “but how? every time I go to her, she looks at me, and I can’t… make my words work.”
    nino: “….you two are perfect for each other.”
    adrien: “what?”
    nino: “what?”
  • nino gives him an article with a few tips for flirting. this shouldn’t be too bad, and hey, it worked on alya, nino swears by it. so with 10 Flirting Techniques That Are Garunteed to Work on Women on his mind, adrien is determined to woo the ladies.
  • 1. set the stage with the “soft stare”: so all he had to do was stare at marinette as deeply as possible whenever they had a conversation while maintaining a calm and relaxed expression. marinette likes to stutter and stammer her ways through her words, and he couldn’t blame her, because he lost control when he tried to talk to her as well, and usually her antics made him smile and laugh. but according to the tips, he wasn’t allowed to.
  • it’s all good for a week or so, until nino pulls him aside and asks why he looks like he’s plotting how to murder marinette in her sleep like some type of serial killer every time he talks to her. 
  • he stops talking to her after that. alya tracks him down a few days later and whacks him upside the head for making her best friend cry by ignoring her. adrien goes back to talking to marinette as normally as possible after that because it’s better to talk to her as friends than invoke his “killer smile” while trying to flirt.
  • 2. be vague and leave her wanting more: adrien has this in the bag. he knows how to skirt around a topic, but that’s just because he has to make sure he kept his secret identity as a superhero of Paris a… secret. being vague is one of his best talents, it also helps with those stupid paparazzi who always follow him. the article offers some suggests: tell her you know a secret about her, tell her there’s something interesting about her and you can’t put your finger on it, tell her that’s she exactly your type but don’t tell her what you type actually is, etc. he spends most of the night plotting his exact words, and the next day, when he sees marinette, it just comes spilling out…
  • adrien: “i know your secret, marinette.”
    marinette: “…what?”
    well shit, adrien thought, the article didn’t tell him what happened after this.
    adrien: “…i know it. your secret… i knew there was something about you that i couldn’t put my finger on.”
    marinette: “…wait, so you know? ohmygodthiscan’tbehappening,ohmygod, how did you figure it out???”
  • adrien wasn’t sure what to do after this point, so like the article said, he leaves her wanting more and nopes the fuck outta there, cha-cha sliding out of the classroom and bolting down the hallway before she could catch him.
  • 3. the sensual look: once a girl is comfortable around you, give her a mischievous look that makes her think. the article (and nino) never really explain what the girl will think about, but adrien totally supports girl empowerment and helping those smart cookies get the best grades and brilliance recognition they deserve. if a mischievous smile is all it takes, then he’s more than happy to help.
  • he flashes her a quirky smirk in Madame Bustier’s lecture, marinette notices and freezes up. he thinks he did it wrong when nino just leans closer and says, “you broke marinette.”
  • adrien apologizes after class and swears he’ll never break her again. marinette just mumbles, “you can break me anytime.”
  • adrien thinks it’s counterproductive. 
  • 4. the surprise wink: whenever you pass her, just wink after you lock eyes, nino says, she won’t expect it and it’ll surprise her but give her the clear and distinct message that you are flirting with her. adrien wants marinette to know he likes her and wants to flirt with he rand wants to date her and just be with her, so he winks every time he gets. 
  • they see each other in class? wink he catches her eyes while they study for physics? wink they talk about madame bustier’s homework? wink she asks him for his opinion on her designs? wink 
  • at first, she giggles. after two weeks, she presents him with a bottle of over-the-counter artificial tears for his “eye twitch.” he stops winking after that and doesn’t talk to nino for the rest of the day.
  • 5. the playful bump: playful actions, like bumping, will definitely make a girl smile. 
  • adrien: “but nino, i could hurt her.”
    nino: “no, my dude, she knows you’re teasing.”
    adrien: “i don’t care if she knows. what if i knock her over?”
    nino: “no, you don’t do it hard, you just–”
    adrien: “what if she falls over and breaks her nose? i don’t wanna break her nose, nino. she has a cute nose.”
    nino: “adrien, you’re not gonna break her–”
    adrien: “niNO
  • 6. the understatement: understate the compliments you give her, okay, okay, adrien can do this. it’s simple.
  • adrien: “marinette, your eyes are blue… like avatar’s skin. just blue.. all over.. it’s great. not the brightest blue, but not the darkest. just blue. you have blue eyes, marinette.”
    marinette: *is speechless*
    nino: “…you nailed that, adrien.”
    adrien: “oh thanks, nino.”
  • 7. the double negative, “i don’t think you’re not beautiful”: 
    adrien: “but i do think she’s beautiful.”
    nino: “i know, you’re telling her that.”
    adrien: “but you just said i don’t think she’s beautiful?”
    nino: “no, no, you said you don’t think she’s not beautiful, so ergo you think she is beautiful.”
    adrien: “…grammar hurts my head, nino.”
    nino: “i know, my dude, i understand.”
  • 8. the sensual tease, tease her for liking you: okay, but adrien doesn’t know if marinette likes him like that? nino swears she does, and alya says so too, but it still makes him feel bad for teasing her. so he doesn’t tease her and just keeps doing stuff like he normally does, like walking her home from school and helping her study physics and giving her advice for her designs and keeping a stash of food for her on the mornings she runs late and he knows she didn’t have breakfast yet.
  • nino rolls his eyes, but adrien doesn’t care. his momma didn’t raise no hooligan. no, if he was going to flirt with marinette, at least he can be a gentleman about it.
  • 9. the moniker: giving her a cute nickname will let her know how special she is. adrien spends a week thinking about it, and nino gives him a few suggestions, but he doesn’t listen. if he’s giving marinette a nickname, it has to be something he does because it’ll let her know she’s special to him.
  • a few days later, he slips up and calls her “princess” because she’s pretty, sweet, smart, likes pink, and is a natural born leader just like a royal. marinette freezes when he calls her that, but she smiles and laughs eventually. she seems to like it, and he keeps doing it. it’s fitting, he supposes, for someone like her. marinette, his princess.
  • does that mean he gets to be her knight?
  • nino calls him a nerd.
  • 10. tell her how you feel: it’s the last step, and adrien agonizes over it for days. it can’t really be as simple as nino makes it out to be, but then again, his best friend has been dating a pretty sweet gal for months, so it obviously worked for him. adrien broods over it for a while, and alya warns him not to ignore marinette for days again, and he swears he isn’t. he’s just trying to find his courage. why oh why is it so much easier to face an akuma with certain death hanging over his head than tell a girl how he really feels?
  • marinette decides to take matters into her own hands, which he isn’t really surprised by because she usually is a head-strong, independent female. what he is surprised by is when ladybug swings into his bedroom window and transforms into marinette right before his very eyes.
  • marinette: “why are you ignoring me? did i do something wrong?”
    adrien: *adrien.exe has stopped working*
    marinette: “…adrien?”
    adrien: “…you’re… ladybug?!”
    marinette: “yeah, i know. you know. we’ve been over this–”
    adrien: “nononoNO, we most certainly haven’t.”
    marinette: *marinette.exe has stopped working*
    adrien: “…marinette?”
    marinette: “I… but you said you knew my secret.”
    adrien: “I WAS BEING VAGUE.”
    marinette: “WHY?!”
    adrien: “IVE BEEN FLIRTING WITH YOU.”
    marinette: “…you have?”
    adrien: “well, i was trying–”
  • plagg: *pops out of adrien’s pocket* “oh, are we trading secrets?”
    tikki: *pops out of marinette’s bag* “I think so?”
    plagg: *holds out paw to marinette* “fine. im plagg, i turn him into chat noir. nice to finally meet you. i’m glad you guys are finally telling each other, it’s been so tiring listening to him mooning over you. do you have any cheese?”
    marinette: “…you’re chat noir?”
    adrien: *dies*

so marinette and adrien are dating now, so in a way he thinks his plan worked? that doesn’t stop marinette from asking him how he thought he’d been flirting, so he tells her nino’s tips. she laughs for a week straight. that’s the last time he ever listens to nino.

an adrien version of this post. some people asked for an adrien version, it’s not directly a sequel, but still another au. just two nerds trying to flirt and failing spectacularly. 

The Reader and the Writer

Originally posted by mieczyslwstilinski

Anon requests: Hey! Omg your Jughead series Beanies and Negotiations are fantastic and very well written, I’m new here and I’m already a fan. I was wondering if you took any requests? If you do I was wondering if you could write a jughead imagine, where reader is new to town, she’s very shy at first but is smart and witty just like Jughead. She actually hides a really dark past which is why she’s so shy, Jughead is beyond curious, trying to figure her out and help her while falling for her. smut or fluff! ^_^

Jughead imagine with reader being new to town and shy!! PS love your writing

heeeyy ^_^ could you write a jugheadxreader imagine where she’s new to riverdale and she has a huge crush on him and his smart witty comments but she’s really shy and he tries to figure her out (maybe she has a secret!) fluff or smut at the end if you write that please ^_^ your writing is amazing btw, don’t ever stop!

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: New girls can’t hide in a small town like Riverdale

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,188

A/N: this one ends with a cliffhanger, so brace yourselves. Enjoy!


Jughead sat in his usual booth at Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe, writing his story about Jason Blossom. His focus was interrupted when he heard the jingle of the bell, signaling that a new customer had arrived.  He looked up and saw an unfamiliar face, which struck his curiosity.  Familiar faces were an extremely rare occurrence in a town as small as Riverdale.  The stranger walked up to the counter, and requested an order under the last name of (Y/L/N).  Jughead narrowed his eyes as he tried to recall if that name was familiar, but his mind reached a dead end.  While she waited, the new girl scanned the diner.  Her eyes landed on a mysterious figured sitting in a booth near the back with nothing but a laptop and a coffee cup on his table.  They made eye contact, and for a second (Y/N) considered going over to the stranger’s booth and trying to get to know them, but then the waiter brought her food and she exited the diner.


He saw her again three days later, sitting in his usual booth.  There was an untouched chocolate milkshake in front of her, all of her attention focused on her book.

Wuthering Heights?” he inquired, stepping closer towards the booth. Setting her book down, the girl looked up at Jughead.  She nodded. “You’re in my booth, you know.” The girl’s eyes widened and she grabbed her book, getting ready to leave.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she stood up.

“I didn’t say you have to leave,” Jughead explained, gesturing for her to sit back down.  “I’m just warning you that I’m gonna join you.” A small smile grew on the girl’s face as she returned to her seat.  “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” the girl answered.

“Well my name’s Jughead,” he introduced himself.  “Are you new to Riverdale?  I haven’t seen you around.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) nodded. “My family just moved here last week.”

“Welcome to Riverdale, (Y/N),” Jughead smiled, “a small town with some of the worst people, and some of the best burgers.”


(Y/N) began to find herself frequenting Pop’s quite often.  At first, she couldn’t place her finger on the reason.  The only thing she ever did there was read, eat, and occasionally talk to Jughead.  Then, she realized it was the latter that kept drawing her back.  She and Jughead didn’t even speak to each other too much; in fact, there were days where they would both sit at their booth, Jughead on his laptop and (Y/N)’s nose in a book, and neither would say a word the whole night.

“So what are you writing?” (Y/N) asked.  It had been a month since she had met Jughead.

“A novel about Jason Blossom’s death,” he responded nonchalantly, eyes remaining on the laptop screen.  He didn’t see (Y/N) tense up at the name.


Pretty soon, (Y/N) was introduced to Jughead’s other friends.  It started with Betty and Veronica when they walked in one day and spotted Jughead with (Y/N).

“Jughead!” Veronica called out as she strode over to the booth, Betty right next to her.  “Who is this?”  She turned to face (Y/N), a smirk etched on her face.  (Y/N) blushed and avoided eye contact, resorting to sticking her nose in her book.

“She’s a friend of mine,” Jughead introduced her, “(Y/N).  (Y/N), this is Veronica,” he gestured to the brunette, “and that’s Betty.”  He pointed at the blonde.  (Y/N) peeked up from her book and waved hello, then turned back to the novel.

“Quiet, huh?” Veronica inquired, sliding into the booth next to her.  “No biggie.  I do enough talking for two people.”

“Sorry, what was your last name?” Betty asked, sitting down next to Jughead.

“(Y/L/N),” she answered. Betty’s eyebrows furrowed, recognizing the name, but she remained silent.


Archie was the next to meet (Y/N): he met her a week later, when Jughead wasn’t around.  He entered Pop’s, and saw someone occupying Jughead’s usual booth.

“You know,” he said, approaching the booth, “that booth is my friend’s.”

“Does it have his name on it?” she retorted, raising an eyebrow.  She contained her chuckles, knowing exactly who Archie was talking about.

“May as well,” Archie replied with a laugh.  “See my friend, his name is Jughead, isn’t much of a people person.  He chooses this booth because it’s far away enough from the entrance so that no one will approach him unless they’re specifically looking for him.”

“Sounds like a drama queen,” she commented.  

“He is,” Archie chuckled. “Anyways, he’s here almost every night, so he’ll be here any minute.  I’m just giving you a heads up.”  As soon as Archie finished his sentence, the diner door opened and in walked Jughead. He made a beeline to his booth and sat across from (Y/N), opening his laptop and beginning to type right away.

“You two know each other?” Jughead asked, refusing to tear his eyes from his computer.  (Y/N) smirked.

“Just met, actually. He was warning me about some drama queen who sits here every night.  You wouldn’t happen to know who he’s talking about, would you?” (Y/N) replied sassily. Jughead lifted his gaze to meet her eyes.

“Ha ha, (Y/N), very funny,” he voice dripped with sarcasm, but his eyes twinkled.  Archie confusedly looked between his friend and the stranger.

“So you know who he is?” he asked her.  She smirked and nodded.

“Oh yeah.  I’ve been sitting in his booth for over a month now. I’m still waiting for him to kick me out.”  When she noticed Archie was still looking at her with a puzzled expression, she stuck out a hand and introduced herself, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Archie,” he responded, shaking her hand.  “Damn, a whole month in the same booth with him?  I don’t know how you’ve survived.”  (Y/N) laughed.

“Honestly I don’t either.”

“So are you new?” Archie questioned.  She nodded.

“Yeah, everyone asks me that.  Is that like some small town thing, everyone knowing everyone?” she asked, and both boys nodded.  “So that’s how everyone figures I’m new.”

“When’d you move here?” Archie inquired.

“July 1st.” Jughead perked up when he heard her say that.  He had never thought to ask (Y/N) when she moved to Riverdale.  She was here when Jason Blossom was murdered.


It was another month later when Jughead asked (Y/N) to help him with his book.

“You’re reading all the time,” he explained himself.  “You’ve gotta know a thing or two about writing.”

“I really don’t,” (Y/N) shut him down, shoving her nose in Macbeth.

“Oh come on, (Y/N),” Jughead groaned.  “What’s with you and my novel?  Every time I even try to talk about it, you change the subject.  What’s up with that?”

“Nothing, Jughead, it’s nothing,” she replied, her voice growing sharp.  “I just don’t want to help with your book.”  She grabbed her book and stomped out of the diner, leaving a confused Jughead behind.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he muttered to himself, minimizing his document where he wrote his story.  He opened up Google and typed in her name.  The results began to pop up, and Jughead scrolled through them, reading article after article. He sighed, “Oh God, (Y/N).”

Part 2 here   Part 3 here   Part 4 here

Angel in the Darkness (M)

Originally posted by jungkook-gifs

Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)

Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au 

Word Count: 5,468

A/N: This is a dark and filthy story! Graphic descriptions of sex (masturbating, etc), heavy dom/sub undertones, drug use, vulgar language use……(alot of smut comes in later) This is a mature read! You have been warned!

 part 2



Your mother told you that there was a purpose for what everyone does. That there is always a reason for someone’s actions; whether it was bad or good. If it was a good action, the individual has learned the most rewarding path to handle situations; regardless if it was easy or not. If it was a bad action, the person could reflect on it, and with guidance, they will learn the right way toward dealing with obstacles. And to this day, that is how you viewed life. If you handled something well, you would be rewarded in the future, if you handled it poorly, you would need to reflect on why you did such a thing, till you find the right path. With these beliefs, you always wanted to find the ‘purpose’ of an individual’s actions, and help them find the right way. So that’s how you ended up working at a rehab centre; helping mentally to find the root cause of someone’s poor actions, and leading them to a better future.

Keep reading

the shit that still doesn’t sit well with me is when allura, hunk, pidge, and keith were all either lowkey or highkey calling lance dumb. and they were satisfied with themselves for it. 

he’s already shown disappointment in himself for not being able to connect with the black lion and has expressed that he doesn’t feel like he’s good enough to be a paladin. so why would they be so quick to make fun of him when he’s feeling vulnerable? yeah, he’s a goofball but that’s only one part of his personality and they shouldn’t treat him like he’s stupid all the time.

he only wanted confirmation from allura that she wasn’t making fun of him. she had said, “i just had to get into a lance-like mindset and stop thinking so much.” a pretty back-handed compliment in contrast to all the praise she was getting for connecting with blue. 

lance immediately got defensive (”are you calling me dumb?”), which is a completely reasonable reaction because it was kind of rude of her. she did say he was a natural, but the rest of the team jumped right on that dumb comment and kept going, and allura did nothing to stop them. 

then keith said he was glad they were all making fun of lance… it didn’t really seem like friendly teasing to me. it was mean of them to do that after lance has proven himself to be just as smart (albeit in different ways) as the rest of them.

To whomever loves her next, here’s some things that you should know:

Her favorite color is black. She hates lipstick. She likes to call you when she’s driving somewhere, it’s one of her favorite times to talk. She loves going out at night. She loves her alcohol even more. She’s emotional when she’s drunk, it’s okay though, she’ll be okay. She might call you up when she’s drank too much, and crying, just listen to her, just softly tell her things to soothe her from whatever’s wrong that night. That’s truly all she needs from you. It’s all she wants from you. She’ll eventually tire herself out and fall asleep. Your flaws will be her favorite parts about you. She’ll constantly touch the parts you hate most about yourself. This is her way of pulling the shame from these things. Because how could you hate a part about you that she loves? She likes for you to read to her before she falls asleep. Her arms will be the safest place for you to rest your head at night, but please don’t get too comfortable, you won’t be there for long. Sometimes she’ll curl into you and pull at your arms to wrap around her, and that same night she may throw them off. Take it with a grain of salt. You’ll need thick skin to be with her because she can be the sweetest person in the world or more cruel than you ever thought possible. She jokes a lot, but they’ll sting still. One minute you feel like the most important person, and the next it’s like she wants nothing to do with you. She’ll tell you what you want to hear, and I beg you please don’t believe it till you see it, and even then be careful. Falling for her will be easy. It won’t even feel like falling. And before you even know it, you’re in deep. She’ll tell you she’s ready to settle down, she’s not. She’ll tell you that all she wants is you, you’re not. She will kiss every inch of you and fuck some random girl in a bathroom stall the next night. And you’ll stay. You’ll pretend it doesn’t bother you and maybe it won’t, because you know who she is, you know how she is. You’ll let her win every argument. Until you don’t. And fighting with her will be one of the most painful things you’ll do. You’ll do it with tears streaming down your cheeks and she’ll do it with venom in her words. It really will crush you because all you’ll want is for her to just try to see it your way, but she won’t. And then you’ll never hear from her again. But you’ll never forget her. Never. She’s stubborn, she’s smart, she’s funny, she’s reckless, she’s selfish, she feels like home, she’s driven, she’s passionate, and she’s confusing. She’s a lot of things, but she’s never boring. And god, she’s so fucking extraordinary.

—  you’ll go into this knowing that she is a storm, and all she’ll do is break you, but let me tell you this, you’ll do it anyways.
Some Strings Attached

Ugh so there was a post going around that I’ve now long since misplaced but it was like “I just saw you go upstairs with someone else and I know we’re only fuck buddies but I’m gonna go punch them in the face” and I was HERE FOR IT. If somebody remembers the post, link me. In the meantime, have some Sterek getting together fluff.

“Just tell Derek you want to date him,” Scott says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Stiles bugs his eyes and flails his hands in wordless frustration, because the correct response to this patently ludicrous advice eludes him. He had come for sympathy, not pie-in-the-sky delusions. “Scott. Bro,” he finally gasps. “How could you even suggest that in good faith? No way! Bad plan!” He slashes his arms in a demonstrative X. “The only reason we’re even hooking up is that I made it super clear I was down to fuck, no strings attached! I’m not ruining a good thing by announcing to Derek Hale that I’m 85% in love with him.”

“Why?” Scott genuinely seems confused, the sweet summer child. After falling into a happy triad with Allison and Isaac after their first semester at UCLA, he doesn’t really understand the definition of “unrequited.”

Stiles turns his attention to a hanging thread on his t-shirt, sourly tugging it loose. “He’s out of my league. I mean, with the baseball, and the smarts, and the sarcasm, and those eyes…” he breaks off with a sigh. The last thing he needs to do is remind himself of how gone he is on Derek. “Just, he’s popular. Dictionary definition of too cool for school. And the three people he actually deigns to hang out with here are all just as cool and good looking as he is. Do I need to remind you I’m not? I’m a gawky, nerdy Sophomore. I’m lucky to even be his fuck-buddy.”

Scott makes a face, incredulous. “I dunno, he must like you well enough if he’s still sleeping with you after all this time. What’s it been, six months? And you guys hang out, too, you’re always telling me about how easy it is to chat with him after you bone. So it’s not just sex.”

Stiles grimaces. “Yeah, but it’s not…”


“… a real relationship,” Derek says into the phone, hearing full well the heavy dejection in his voice. So sue him; the admission is more than a little depressing. “He just wants to be fuck buddies.”

“How do you know?” Laura asks reasonably. “Maybe this Stiles person would be interested in dating you, too. No offence, but you’re not great at reading people. I mean, he’s interested in chilling with you even after you hook up, and clearly he enjoys the physical aspect. Did he actually ever say he wasn’t looking for more?”

Derek heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes even though she can’t see over the phone. “Yep. About two minutes after the first time we slept together he said, ‘no strings attached, obviously.’ So, you know, pretty safe bet that it’s no strings attached.”

“Oh,” Laura says. For once she doesn’t have a snappy comeback.

“Oh,” Derek agrees. Dejectedly.

She gives him a sympathetic little hum, and then asks, “and he’ll definitely be at the sorority barbecue?”

“Yeah.” Stiles and his broad shoulders and his long fingers are definitely going to be at the party.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go,” his sister says softly. “If you really like him, and he’s just looking to get laid…”

Derek groans. Not go, and give up a chance to hook up with Stiles? Smart, maybe, but not something he’s capable of doing.

The problem is, he’s liked Stiles forever. Or at least since he first saw him, laughing uproariously and running around with his friends with an actually broom between his legs, playing “Quidditch.” Derek would have been way too embarrassed to do something like that on the front lawn, but Stiles made it seem like the most effortlessly awesome thing a person could get up to.

No, compared to Stiles, Derek is practically a social recluse, an awkward jock with only about three people who he gets along with at all. Stiles definitely doesn’t want to get saddled with a boyfriend like him. He’s lucky they’re even hooking up after all this time.

“Derek, I mean it,” Laura says. “Look out for yourself for once.”

“I know, I know,” Derek grumbles. “But it’s not my fault he’s…”

Keep reading

4

In 2010, Sonia Vallabh watched her mom, Kamni Vallabh, die in a really horrible way.

First, her mom’s memory started to go, then she lost the ability to reason. Sonia says it was like watching someone get unplugged from the world. By the end, it was as if she was stuck between being awake and asleep. She was confused and uncomfortable all the time.

“Even when awake, was she fully or was she really? And when asleep, was she really asleep?” says Sonia.

The smart, warm, artistic Kamni – just 51 years old — was disappearing into profound dementia.

“I think until you’ve seen it, it’s hard to actually imagine what it is for a person to be alive and their body is moving around, but their brain is not there anymore,” says Eric Minikel, Sonia’s husband.

In less than a year, Sonia’s mom died.

An autopsy showed Kamni had died from something rare — a prion disease. Specifically, one called fatal familial insomnia because in some patients it steals the ability to fall asleep.

Basically, certain molecules had started clumping together in Kamni’s brain, killing her brain cells. It was all because of one tiny error in her DNA — an “A” where there was supposed to be a “G,” a single typo in a manuscript of 6 billion letters.

Sonia sent a sample of her own blood to a lab, where a test confirmed she inherited the same mutation. The finding threw the family into grief all over again.

Today, Sonia and her husband live and work in Cambridge, Mass., where they are both doctoral students in the lab of Stuart Schreiber, a Harvard professor of chemistry and chemical biology. Over the past several years, the couple has completely redirected their careers and their lives toward this single goal: to prevent prion disease from ever making Sonia sick.

A Couple’s Quest To Stop A Rare Disease Before It Takes One Of Them

Photos: Kayana Szymczak for NPR