that way i can study this film and receive a grade for it

Little Monster part 1


Pairing: Professor!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual activity (NSFW) and accusations of abuse. Oh, and foul language. Skip the NSFW by skipping the cursive part! (that’s why it’s cursive too hehe)

Word count: 1.707

Summary: You’re an arts student on the verge of graduating when you get the verdict: either you do an extra year or you take one extra, mandatory course to salvage your reputation. You hold a grudge against history and would rather be fooling around with your boyfriend than sitting in a bleak auditorium listening to some old fart’s war stories. Turns out that fossil isn’t as old as you thought he’d be and soon you’re begging for taste of Professor Rogers, taking advantage of the high life.

A/N: As I’m finishing up on Manhattan Mistress, I’d like to pitch this little series based on the newly released photographs Chris Evans did for Vogue (and Esquire). They just screamed recently divorced college professor/high society beau/sugar daddy to me so here it is!

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Topp Dogg Alphabet Drabble: P-hotograph

P is for Photograph!

Pairing: Sangdo x You


Thursday was your Photography class and you dreaded being here today. Not only because it was seven in the morning and you only got two hours of sleep but also because you didn’t get to eat breakfast because you were running late.

You don’t even have any idea why you’re in this class. The only reason why you chose it was because you received a camera on your birthday and you actually want to put it to use. It’s not like you regretted enrolling in the class but you hated all the activities that requires you to go outside.

“Good morning everyone.” Your professor greeted. “Today, we will be having another outdoor activity.”

“What the fuck.” You cursed under your breath. Professor Jung likes sending you all to outdoor activities, asking all the students to take a photo of a plant, a rock, an animal, the sky or just whatever floats his boat. And it’s only because he was too lazy to teach.

You wondered what will he ask you to take a photo today. “I hope he chooses flowers. There’s tons of flowers in every inch of this university.” The person beside you said.

“I want you guys take a photo of your definition of beautiful. Send the file on my email and we will discuss each photo next meeting.” Professor Jung announced and left even though ten minutes hasn’t even passed since the class started.

Seriously, you woke up just for this? Why didn’t he just sent you guys an email?

You sighed and proceeded to go outside of the classroom just like everybody else. Your definition of beautiful? You have no idea. Should you just take a photo of a pizza or a burger? You find food beautiful anyways.

First things first, you decided to sit at the bench to clear your head. “I need to take this more seriously.” You thought as you get your camera out of your bag.

You tried to focus and rack your brains out to your definition of ‘beautiful’. After ten minutes, you still have no idea and almost decided to go home when a guy sat in the bench across you.

He got his phone out and put on his earphones then closed his eyes. For a moment you thought you were seeing an angel, cause that’s what he looked like. He was very handsome, like the gods took their time in creating him. When the sun shone on him, he looked very beautiful.


You hurriedly turn on your camera and started taking photos of him. The flowers behind his back made the picture more perfect, and you wondered if he was a model. When you were satisfied with your shots, you hurriedly left before he even notices that you just took a hundred photos of him.

The week passed by quickly, and before you knew it you are on your way again to attend your Photography class. You took a seat closest to the front door, so you could leave immediately once the class is over.

Professor Jung was five minutes late, and before he entered you saw him talking to someone.

“Good morning everyone. Let me just set the projector up before I introduce someone to the class.” He then proceeded to connect the laptop to the projector, the clear image of his desktop wallpaper was shown in the screen.

“Today, I invited someone to help me evaluate your photographs. He studied Film and Photography in New York and he was nice enough to lend us some of his time today. Mr. Yoo Sangdo?” He signaled the man that was waiting outside to enter and you almost fell on your seat when you saw his face.


The man standing beside Professor Jung was the same man you photographed last week sitting in the bench across you!

HOLY SHIT. You were panicking and didn’t even notice that Professor Jung already started the class. He started flashing your class mates’ photographs and one by one he called them in front to explain it.

You wanted the floor crack open and eat you up. In any moment now, yours will be flashed in the screen for everybody to see. You don’t even have a proper explanation for it! You just took the photo cause he looked really beautiful.

After what seems like an eternity, your photo finally flashed on the screen. There were hushed whispers from everybody and you heard someone behind you say, “Isn’t that Mr. Yoo Sangdo?”

Professor Jung cleared his throat to silence the class, “Who’s work is this?”

You stood up from your seat and you can feel everybody’s eyes on you. You couldn’t read Sangdo’s face, and you don’t know what he’s thinking right now that his face is flashed in the big screen.

You went in front of the class and proceeded to explain your work. About how you thought he looked very beautiful in that moment, and that you never saw someone fit the definition of 'beautiful’ so perfectly that made the whole class tease you.

Mr. Yoo Sangdo remained silent the whole time you were talking, and you almost ran to your seat when your turn was over.

Your one and a half hour class felt like years. Professor Jung and Mr. Yoo Sangdo were evaluating and grading the photos that will serve as one quiz.

Finally, Professor Jung stood up to announce. “I will be calling your names one by one and Mr. Yoo Sangdo will give you a paper where your grade is written. Mr. Yoo has also written some of his feedbacks regarding your photos.”

When it was finally your turn, you couldn’t even look at him in the eye. Your eyes were on the floor the whole time until you heard him say, “Hey.” You looked up and saw that he was smiling at you. “Check my feedback. It will help you a lot.” He said.

When you returned to your seat and looked at the paper, you couldn’t help but blush.

Grade: A+
Feedback: I think we need to talk about your photo more. Call me?

Underneath the paper was his phone number.

Making the Grade - Ch. 1

The only sound Poppy Miller could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears.  The words were swimming in front of her eyes.  “Clerical error…unable to complete graduation application…missing credits.”  Reaching up with a trembling hand, she pulled her laptop closed with a quiet click.  “No no no no no.  This is not how this is supposed to go.  This is not how this is supposed to happen.”   Her voice was thick, the words tinged with panic.  She rolled away from the small desk in her cramped office and dropped her head between her knees and started counting.  “100…99…98…97…”  The numbers had always soothed Poppy, even when she was a small girl.  They never changed, there was always order, and they never faltered.  Saying them out loud made her feel like she was in control and centered, even when things in her world were spinning into chaos.

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Indecison;; A Riarkle Drabble

Hey hi hello! I wrote this little drabble for the lovely Lily aka @minkthews since she’s needed some cheering up. So Lils, I hope you like it, especially since I’m uploading writing at one a.m. for you aha. 

Mini Playlist: 

- This Is What You Came For;; Calvin Harris ft. Rihanna

- When The Party Ends;; The Summer Set

- The Night Is Young;; The Summer Set

- The Story of Tonight;; We the Kings

Word Count: 1,703

Rating: Teen 

Look, if it were up to Farkle, this sleepover would have never happened. There was no denying he loved Riley, and there was no denying that any time with her was a good time. But Farkle had figured something out mere hours before she was supposed to come over: he was utterly in love with Riley Matthews. It had been no secret that he loved her, after all, he commonly said the familiar words, “I’ve loved Riley since the first grade.” This, however, was different somehow. This was a genuine realization that he was in love with his best friend. It was hard for even a genius to process. There was some sort of connection needed to be made before he could even begin to express it. Why couldn’t he have just said no?

“Farkle?” Riley asked softly, sitting partly in his lap as they studied in the library. Today seemed to be the one day it was packed with people, and he had managed to insist he didn’t need personal space, so Riley ended up in his lap. He looked up at her with a warm smile, his entire persona lighting up as their eyes met.

“Yes, darling?” he replied, letting his eyes flit up to meet hers as he moved her slightly more onto his lap. She let out a barely audible gasp as his fingertips grazed the skin where her skirt had ridden up, her eyes widening slightly before a dark blush settled on her already rosy cheeks. Then there was the slightest shift in her features as she lit up, her eyes crinkling around the edges, her smile becoming more radiant than the sun, and her hand finding his to lace their fingers. No matter how close he had accidentally gotten, and no matter how bad both their blushes were, Riley trusted him enough in that moment, and Farkle was melting.

“Can we have a sleepover tonight?”  her voice was a fiercely soft thing that he barely heard at first, wrecking him between that tone and that look she was giving him, that look that tore him apart and made him feel so utterly whole. And he felt it in that moment. He felt the aching realization in his chest that confirmed his feelings, that brought a shockwave of revelations onto him. He was in love with Riley Matthews and her bashful smile. He was in love with Riley Matthews and the way she nervously played with his fingers. And all he wanted to do in that moment was cup her cheek and run his hands through her hair and kiss her until they both melted into the other or until the world ended or until no one saw them as two separate entities. But his head thought faster than his heart ever could, and he found himself nodding and saying, “of course we can, you can come to mine this time,” instead of saying, “I love you, Riley.” He found himself wrecking himself.

“Sparkley?” Riley asked with a quiet chuckle, leaning in his doorway with a supressed smile, “You okay?” How long has she been standing there? Had she gone to the bathroom that quickly? Did he seriously zone out? Farkle choked out a laugh, pretending not to notice the way the t-shirt she borrowed to sleep in barely hit her thighs, pretending not to notice how fondly she stared at him. He had to remind himself that it was just fondness, not love. Riley would never love him; of that, he was certain.

“Of course I’m okay, Riles, just a bit distracted. What movie are we watching?” It seemed to snap her out of a daze, and he could read the confusion on her features as she mentally scanned for a movie to watch. That was how well they knew each other, just like he knew she was going to say Mean Girls before she actually said it. In fact, he had already started to put it in the DVD player. He could do this. He could get through a night with Riley, a normal night. It was going to be easy. He quickly moved back to his bed, heart pounding in his ears as Riley sat beside him and snuggled deep into his side. She rested her head on his chest, and all he could think was please don’t let her feel my heartbeat, please don’t let her notice my pulse jump, please don’t let her realize she has this uncontrollable effect on me that science can’t explain. That’s why when she looked up at him with an inquisitive look, his blood ran cold.

“Farkley, can you braid my hair?” Her request made his breath stabilize and his smile come back, giving a bashful smile in return. He couldn’t say no, not with the adoring look she was giving him. So instead, he offered the truth.

“I don’t know how, actually.”

“Oh. I’ll teach you.” Her smile was a pastel reminder that he couldn’t refuse her, a slight blush on his cheeks as he nodded.

“Okay, look.” Riley sat up and ran a hand through her hair, and Farkle had to pretend that he didn’t want to trail kisses down the collarbone she’d exposed as her shirt slipped off her shoulder. Needless to say, he averted his eyes.  “Look, you take three strands of hair, and you separate them evenly. Then you cross the two outside over the one in the middle over and over until you can’t anymore or it gets too small.” She demonstrated as she spoke, and he made sure to keep his eyes deadlocked on her nimble fingers, swiftly moving to create an intricate braid that she automatically undid. “You try.”

“Me try?”

“You try.” Farkle nodded and gently took part of her hair in his hands, chuckling at the slight shiver he received as his hand accidentally brushed her neck.

“Sorry, Riles,” he murmured, earning half a scoff in response as she leaned into him once more. He got the knack of braiding fairly quickly, and before he knew it, he was deftly- if somewhat messily- braiding her hair. Riley was focused on the movie every time he glanced at her face, and he couldn’t help but admire the way her lips curved into different shapes as she mouthed the words to the familiar film, or the way her eyebrows quirked up whenever it seemed irrational, or the way she laughed her genuine laugh every time she found something funny opposed to the laugh she gave their friends- even Maya. He smiled a bit himself at that thought, tying off her braid with a hairbow and trying to straighten it out. “All done.”

“Does it look good, Farkle Minkus?” she deadpanned, and he could hear the amusement in her voice. Wow, she was seriously not helping his thoughts.

“It looks perfect, Ri-” his voice caught in his throat as he met her gaze, his words collapsing and crescendoing and cresting into silence. He couldn’t help but notice how close they were. He could smell her strawberry perfume faintly, and his lips were a mere breath away from hers. Their eyes were locked, a deep longing in his and a dawning realization in hers. His flickered to her lips the moment she instinctively shifted closer to him, feeling their breath intermingle and her fingers intertwine with his. He was going to kiss Riley Matthews, his best friend, and he was going to enjoy it. Their heartbeats seemed to be in sync as they held their breath, both waiting for the other to make the first move. And Farkle almost did, his heart screaming yes and his head screaming yes and every ounce of Farkle Minkus wanting to feel how soft her lips would be on his, wanting to know how her hands would feel in his hair. He craved Riley in such an aching way that he needed it, and yet he couldn’t kiss her. Why couldn’t he kiss her? Oh. He wasn’t sure she felt the same.

Farkle jerked back and away from her, earning a wounded look in response and automatically feeling remorse. Had she wanted it? Had she craved it too? Had the aching love he held in the hurricane of his soul been discovered in hers too?

“Riley, I, uh,” he stammered, searching frantically for any explanation as to his actions but coming up extremely short, “I, I, um…” And then there were lips on his, soft but firm and he just knew. He knew that Riley had wanted it too. It was evident in the way her hands tangled in his hair the moment he responded to her, in the way she shifted to straddle him so easily, in the way she shivered when his hand shifted to her now visible thigh. She melted into his touch, and he relished in the fact that he could make her logic go out the window so quickly. He relished the way a single touch on her hip could make her gasp, and the way she could barely speak when she pulled away, a dizzy, breathtaking smile on those lips that had kissed him with the desperation of a hurricane on its last rounds, those lips that had found his neck mere moments ago. Farkle was in awe of this beautiful creature before him, trying to keep his gaze trained on her eyes before he realized he had left a few accidental marks on her collarbone. A flurry of panic whispered through his mind that he abruptly pushed away, adoring the way Riley looked like the sun and the stars and everything pure.

“Wow,” she whispered, earning a chuckle from him.
“Wow indeed, Riles.” And they stared at each other for a long moment before erupting into a fit of laughter at the surreal nature of it all, their worries and definitions of each other flitting through the window with the sound of their voices over the New York traffic. They lay there for hours talking about nothing and everything, wondering if that was all it took. Maybe they weren’t definitive, but they didn’t need to be. They were Riley and Farkle, Farkle and Riley. Together forever, no matter what.

Spin the Bottle

A Steve x Reader on this high school AU “Weve been best friends for practically our whole lives but youre a thousand times more popular than me so you dragged me to a big party and now we’re play spin the bottle and you spin and it lands on me oh crap” 

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8

“Mate come on I don’t want to go to this thing!” You beg, remaining adamantly in the passenger seat of Steve’s car.

“It won’t be that bad.” He insists, prodding your arm gently.

“It so will.” You insist, crossing your arms.

“Please. Just do this one thing for me. Pretty please. I will repay you in sexual favours?” Steve pleads and you can’t help but crack a smile. You look away so as not to give him the satisfaction, and unclip your seatbelt.

“Better be some damn good sexual favours.” You grumble, opening the car door and reluctantly stepping out.

“I knew you were my best friend for a reason.”

“What so you can guilt trip me into going to a popular kid party with you?” You jab, walking round to his side of the car, the accusing house in front of you.

“How many times have I gone to things with you, my friends aren’t that bad.” You scoff, making Steve chuckle slightly.

“Your friend group comprises almost solely of jocks and cheerleaders.”


“I feel like I have made my case.” You glance again at the house, the nerves that had been simmering in you all afternoon reaching a tumult. Steve seems to read the fear on your face, and holds out his hand. You take it and give him a grateful smile, the warmth of Steve’s skin against yours keeping you somewhat grounded.

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Failure, as a perfectionist.

It is the day before my last exam, so I should really be carrying on with my last minute revision, but instead I’d like to take this moment to address something: the notion of failing

‘Failure’ can mean a whole number of different things – it depends who is doing the talking. Lately, I have heard ‘I’m going to fail,’ increasingly often, not in the context of ‘I am actually going to fail my exam’, but in the context, ‘I am not going to achieve my own personal target.’ I will address this issue in a minute, but first I’d like to note something else.

As exam term has gone on, I have even found myself saying ‘‘omg’ – I feel like I’m definitely going to fail,’ an awful lot, without even knowing what it is I actually mean by it. I feel like it is something said to humble oneself in the presence of others, to express in signifying words ‘my work has been really difficult, and I’m not sure how good at this I actually am’. It has been said by me perhaps to reduce other people’s expectations of my intelligence, so that when I come out with a decidedly average mark others won’t frown upon me, instead saying ‘well, at least you didn’t fail!’ And the notion of ‘failure’ seems to express the real intensity of my university course somewhat melodramatically: I know that it’s pretty impossible to fail my exams this year, especially after all the effort I have put into revision, but the idea that something so dramatic could possibly happen has possibly been said by me as an exaggeration of the fear I am feeling. I may be analysing things a little too much, but hey - I’m an English student, it’s what we do.

Back to my initial point. We all have our own targets, some realistic, some unrealistic. For future notice, I will never post my own targets or my own current academic achievements publicly on this blog because that’s not what I’m here for, and I refuse to create a marker (not that it would be much of a marker anyways) against which people can judge themselves on (I was a little uncomfortable about revealing my GCSE/A Level grades but figured that as they are in the past my emotions connected to them have been & gone). But my point is that when the idea of failing to achieve your own personal targets is raised, the problem of failure becomes a whole lot more personal, a whole lot more psychological, than a letter such as ‘A’ or ‘F’ can represent. The one main concern that I feel with regards to the institutional pressures put on people to succeed according to a certain guideline or socially acceptable ‘grade’ is the effect the failure to achieve this grade can have mentally on a human being. For example, take my own two years of studying A Levels, in constant fear of failing to achieve my own ‘target’ of getting into Cambridge. At the time, I thought my life would have been “over” (quote Sarah, melodramatic since the age of 18) if I hadn’t got in. Now that I am here, yes I am happy, but I am also now aware of many other, equally fulfilling, paths my life could have taken. All that has really come from my A Level fear of failure is a kind of ‘perfectionism,’ that, now I am at Cambridge, I have realised is a really shit trait to have. I have learnt, getting to my dream university and realising I was studying the wrong subject, that sometimes, life just doesn’t work out the way you expected it to. Sometimes our targets don’t even feel that great once we have achieved them. They are essentially imaginary stations that you form in your own mind, and it doesn’t register to us that they are moveable, adaptable. You don’t have to reach it first try, hell, you don’t have to reach it at all.  

I guess what I’m trying to say is that failure to achieve your own personal target isn’t the end of the world. Of course, it can be devastating, but the best thing we can try to do is heal ourselves, and attempt to move on. There is always another option, life is not over just because we didn’t get the grade, or didn’t manage to achieve something. But after ‘failure,’ perhaps a time out is needed. Give yourself time to think, ponder (maybe, like I do, wallow in self-pity for a while with chocolate and films), then dust yourself off and get back to trying hard to be a successful person, perhaps with a shaped or new perspective on where you want to go and how you can do your best to achieve it.

As a little example I am going to use my experience of our Shakespeare exam last week. I had worked ridiculously hard on this exam paper, as I happen to love Shakespeare, and I really wanted my hard work and my passion to show through on the exam. I opened the paper, and it was brutal. It was possibly the worst exam I have ever sat in my life, and after the exam I rushed to the bathroom to just sit and cry. I literally broke down. The one exam that I thought would really contribute to my overall grade and show what I can do was a disaster. To put it short – I think I have definitely failed to achieve my own target in that paper, which makes me feel like the grade I am going to receive at the end of this year won’t be representative of the kind of work I can do, the kind of things I can achieve. It is easy to allow this failure to seep into my expectations of my next exam, to think that I am going to ‘fail’ in my final exam tomorrow - and believe me I have had these thoughts – but quite honestly I am not going to give the pessimistic side of my being the satisfaction of knowing it has won. Yes, I wallowed in self-pity with chocolate and films after the Shakespeare exam. Yes, I rang my mother and cried for way too long. But I have re-focused, worked for my final exam, and I am telling myself to see tomorrow as a positive contribution to my final mark, instead as a negative contribution to my ‘failure.’ It is, admittedly, a consistent, conscious effort to tell myself so, but I feel it helps. And I know that even if I don’t get the total grade I have been aiming for mentally, I will know that I have worked my hardest to attempt to achieve this, and that will hopefully console me (along with cocktails).

Just a few thoughts.


I’m not actually sure how many other countries have results day apart from the UK so this is based at UK students for now, but can be applied to anyone getting important exam results 

Essentially, for our three main examinations - GCSE, AS Levels and A Levels - we take the exams in May - June time and after excruciating waiting, we get all of our results in late August. Which is quite frankly horrible. Maybe it’s different with other schools, but in my personal experience, you go to school and collect your results, expected to open them in front of a room full of all your friends and teachers, and also other students who have already received their results. It sucks, but even though it’s quickly approaching (18th for me! two days!) there are ways to lessen your nerves and keep yourself chill in this important time. 

Before results day ~  

  • Try your best to put results day out of your mind! Exams are over and done and there’s nothing more you can do at this point. 
  • So enjoy your summer! Keep busy if you’re preoccupied with the quickly looming date, summer’s here to be enjoyed - start a project or see friends
  • The night before, try to remind yourself that: you did your best and that’s all you can ask. Don’t try and predict your results because there is a chance you could be disappointed. 
  • Set yourself one goal, that you think is achievable and is something to be proud of - “I didn’t fail any subjects” or “I got a B or above in English” 

On results day ~ 

  • Breathe. Go about your morning like you would any other day, usually schools open at 9am to collect results and pick your timing wisely. 
  • The earlier you get there, the less people are likely to be there which could be a plus for you. 
  • However for you personally, maybe you’d like time to gather and calm yourself and you’ll arrive later - which is completely okay too. It’s personal. 
  • Be selective about who you go with. Are your parents hard to please? Expecting a lot? It may be best to go on your own or with friends and process your grades yourself before sharing them. Is a friend likely to get higher grades than you, for any reason? If it’s likely that will make you feel disappointed or not as pleased with your own achievements perhaps suggest to go separately. 
  • While it’s common to open your results in the hall, it’s not always necessary. I know people to collect their results and retreat to their car until they want to sort out the necessary things inside - if you even need to.
  • Some people are away on results day and need their results mailed to them, or to give permission for other people to collect them. While this is mostly done by people on holiday, if you’re too anxious to face the school results day this may be possible for you, but usually has to be planned in advanced. 
  • There will always be one thing in your results you can be proud of. An unexpected result, a module you really achieved in, there will always be something you did well and succeeded in. Look for it.

If your results didn’t go as planned ~ 

  • Don’t panic. Your life, academic or otherwise, is not over. 
  • Take a deep breath and do what your need to. Leave the hall, go home, cry if you want to. Getting out your disappointment is okay - but don’t wallow. 
  • Stay away from social media. There will seem to be dozens of people posting about their great results - but there are still just as many who didn’t get what they were expecting, they’re just not visible. 
  • You may need to look at options, but give yourself the night off. Likely there will be parties if this is your thing, if not maybe go out for dinner, or watch a film with ice cream. Treat yourself for that night and let yourself think tomorrow.
  • For some, not doing as well as expected isn’t a problem. Colleges and universities can present leeway. Most people also have back up and second placement options. But it can throw some people off - usually there are people within your school who can help you, so shoot off an email. 
  • This is specifically for AS or A Level students. There is absolutely no shame in retaking a year. It is extremely common. People underestimate the work needed for AS as it’s such a jump and as such, a lot of people can end up retaking a year or certain classes.

Most importantly ~ 

  • Your results do not define your or your capabilities. 
  • Exams are hard and you did your best. 
  • There is almost always another way to the path your looking to take, it may mean another year, another class, an apprenticeship or a different outlook but a failed exam does not mean that it isn’t possible. 
  • Many many great people have failed exams. 
  • If you are upset with your results, this is motivation to work harder, not to give up. 
  • With the amount of stress that’s put upon us for exams now, you survived and should be proud regardless.

She made her name in Game of Thrones and is in the Hunger Games movie out next month. But there’s more to Natalie Dormer than playing fierce women. (Full Interview)

“It really bugs me,” says Natalie Dormer, “the way people criticize how actors look. We’re not models. Models exist.” She doesn’t sound terribly happy about the existence of models. “I get accused of having a haughty smugness. I have a lopsided mouth. I can’t help it. I was born with it. It looks as if I am smirking. I have had my publicist tell me, ‘Don’t do that smile on the red carpet.’ I’m, like, ‘That’s my smile.’”

So Dormer, who starred in The Tudors and Game of Thrones, and who now appears in the next installment of The Hunger Games (Mockingjay — Part 1, out next month), feels as plagued by her personal appearance as a "normal” woman. This is a tribute to the misogyny of modern film-making, for which a woman can never be lovely enough. Because Dormer is, in the flesh, very beautiful, although I think she does not know it. The vehemence with which she recalls taunts about her “lopsided mouth” is painful to listen to. It is the feature that makes her face. She is tiny - are actresses ever anything else? - with slanted green eyes and silverish hair buried under the actress’s disguise of choice, a hat. They all wear hats. I don’t know why. Maybe they are cold. Or maybe they do not want to be seen to clearly. Her voice, when she is certain of herself, is poised, delicate, and deep. When she is nervous, she stammers slightly. She is 32.

She is candid about the life of an actress. She makes it sound terrifying, which feels closer to reality than anything Gwenyth Paltrow, who cannot breathe without mentioning her gratitude, might say. It’s odd to hear it spoken of, though, as Dormer waves her arm for emphasis. It feels transgressive. “It’s not luck,” she says plainly. “You have a lot of heartache.”

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Asa Butterfield offers insight to aspiring student actors

District got the chance to sit down with actor Asa Butterfield while he was in town for the Savannah Film Festival, where he will receive a Rising Star Award tonight. The 17-year-old actor has achieved international fame since he began film acting in 2006, starring in “The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas,” “Hugo” and, most recently, “Ender’s Game.” His newest film, “X+Y,” premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival Sept. 5, and his next, “Ten Thousand Saints,” will be released in 2015.

 Do you have any tips for young actors who are trying to juggle going to school and having an acting career at the same time?

It’s difficult. It’s no easy feat. I’ve had to do it ever since I’ve been an actor and I’m still doing it. I’m in my last year at school and it’s hard work, trying to get the best out of both worlds. You’ve got to put all of your focus when you’re on set into the character, trying to get the most out of it, and then when they say ‘cut’ you’ve got to go and do math or whatever it is that you’re doing.

For me, my schoolwork has taken a priority. It’s definitely something me and my family have talked about and we’ve always wanted to make sure I get through my education and get the grades before I can let go of that and really focus on my acting work.

Because you can’t be an amazing actor without having a sort of understanding of the world. Everything you learn you can take into your craft as an actor. So I advise them to stay in school. Don’t drop out. I wouldn’t advise getting homeschooled, either. Obviously it’s down to personal preference, but I find learning with peers and with other students a lot more beneficial because you can learn from not just your teachers, but other people. The experiences you learn in school and in college are invaluable. They stick with you for the rest of your life.

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Dear Y11 students awaiting their GCSE results

Five years ago, I was in your shoes. I was waiting for the day that I had been working up to since I began education. The day I hadn’t heard the end of since I began my GCSE classes, where I began revising and revising for exams and tests. Where I worked endlessly on coursework and tried my hardest at each opportunity. That day. Results day.

For many of you, the grades you earn will help you to get into college to broaden your education, and that’s the path I chose. I wanted to study childcare, to become a nursery teacher or assistant, to maybe move on to teaching older children someday, and there was a certain grade that I needed in order to get onto the course at college, and that was grade C or above in maths.

I didn’t get it.

Maths was the only subject I didn’t do too well in. I’ve never been good in it, and I knew I’d struggled in the exam so my hopes were not up high, but at the same time I so badly wanted to go onto the course at college, but I couldn’t. I failed. I thought my life was over at that point, but you know what? It had only just begun.

Instead of studying childcare, I picked myself up, brushed myself off and chose another subject. Media Studies. 4 years down the line and it’s the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I have found my true calling. I’ve completed my second year at university and I’ve found people I never would have met if this road hadn’t opened for me.

It just goes to show, sometimes one door closes so another, brighter one can open. I wasn’t meant to study childcare like I thought I was, I’m destined to make films, TV shows and radio shows.

Good luck to those of you receiving their results tomorrow, but remember my story if things don’t work out the way you hope. It’s okay. It’s destiny.