#and i have to ask my teacher to let me submit the proper file but i know that accidentally making it late makes more work for her and idont

[lockandkeyhyena]

so stressed about school i feel like im going to throw up but at least im not having another derealisation attack so theres that

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑆𝑒𝑥 𝑇𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝐿𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑑 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warnings: NSFW content. Aged up/Older Ateez but age differences are still within legal boundaries. Allusions to infidelity. Also contains major spoiler for the dilf!Yeosang fic.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

"Hongjoong? Hongjoong baby?"

You lightly tapped his cheek in an effort to wake him up from his nap on the couch. Fluttering his eyes open, he yawned softly, almost an exact replica of how your son often would.

"What? Is it dinnertime already?" He asked while sitting up.

"Almost, but I noticed your phone was going crazy with notifications so I thought it must be something important."

Kissing his sleepy face, you chuckled and returned to the kitchen before anything accidentally burned. Fixing his hair, Hongjoong picked up his phone to see about 10 missed calls, 20 unread messages and a dozen emails all from different people, most of them from his fellow teachers at the university. Scanning through the first few, Hongjoong became wide awake and immediately began looking back to see the email he had sent right before going to sleep.

"Ok food is- what's going on?" You noticed how agitated he looked.

"Um...well.... funny story. You know how I was supposed to send in my report to the administration? I might have accidentally attached the wrong file on there.." He sheepishly admitted to you.

By his tone, you knew it was probably something serious.

"Ok and what was the file?"

Hongjoong grabbed your arm and placed you next to him.

"You're gonna want to be seated for this."

Hongjoong opened the file and held the phone out for you to see. You widened your eyes as you saw it was the old video he had taken of you sucking him off for the first time when you were at the university. You couldn't help the tiny grin tugging your lips as your loud slurping sounds blasted through the speakers.

"Fuck! Miss Y/N, do you really enjoy sucking cock so much?" Hongjoong's raspy voice was heard on the background, one of his hands holding the back of your head to plunge your mouth further down onto his length. You were seen moaning dramatically as you pulled away slightly, drool falling down your chin.

"I used to, but now I think I'll only love sucking cocks that are as big as yours." You winked as your hand pumped along his shaft, your tongue coming out to swirl around his head.

"Still think a pretty young thing like me can't take a cock like yours Mr. Kim?"

Getting so flustered, Hongjoong stopped the video and ran a hand through his hair as he waited for your outburst. When you were silent for a while, he looked over and was confused to see you smiling.

"I can't believe you kept that after all this time." You giggled as your hands cupped his cheeks.

"Well I.... I just like reminiscing about the old times when you used to give me the best suck of my life."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean used to Kim Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong flushed even more when you came down and sat in front of him as you began pulling his pants down.

"I can still give a blowjob that'll leave you breathless."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

"Well it seems your wife and her lawyer have decided to stoop low in methods to stop the divorce from happening."

Seonghwa's lawyer seemed uneasy about telling you guys about it.

"What did that witch do now?" Seonghwa could already feel a headache coming.

"She submitted a video for the judge and other attorneys to view and hopefully use against you.. but the nature of it...... well it's not exactly something we can show in the courtroom but most of us lawyers have unfortunately seen it."

Leaving the laptop open and sliding it forward to you both, the lawyer stood up and cleared his throat.

"I thought perhaps you two would want to take a look and decide what you'll want to do after this." The poor man left the room, feeling embarrased for you.

You were the one who leaned forward to press play. Seonghwa and you stiffened in your seats when you saw it was an old video you had taken during one of the nights he often went over to your place after one of the many fights he'd have with his wife.

"How did she even get a hold of this?" You asked but you weren't really paying attention to your question and neither was Seonghwa, both of you just watched the screen in front of you, seeing the erotic action unfold.

"Shit! Look at you, all stuffed to the brim with my cum, it's leaking out of you."

Your body jolted underneath Seonghwa as his hips once again slammed into yours, your body aching from the overstimulation he had already been giving you for the past hour but you didn't want him to stop, even after he had cum inside you three times already.

"Keep my cum inside your body my little slut. Don't drop any of it out." His voice was raspy and hoarse as he continued his merciless pounding into you.

You looked like a mess by then, your face was buried on the pillow, nails nearly tearing the sides of it and even though it was muffled, your screams of pleasure could still be distinguished through it.

"I'm gonna breed you my little bunny. Stuff your little hole until you're carrying my babies."

Yanking your hair, Seonghwa pulled you so your back was pressed against his chest.

"Cause that's what you promised me right? You promised you'd let fuck my babies in you right?" He cooed as he nipped at your neck.

You whimpered loudly and nodded at him, tears falling out of your eyes.

"Yes! Please! Breed me Mr. Park. I wanna get fucked with your babies." You begged him, your face scrunching up as another orgasm was being pulled out of you.

Seonghwa and you sat there silently after watching all that, taking it all in. It was him who broke the ice by spinning his chair to you and looking all too smug.

"Well I did knock you up didn't I?"

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Yunho calmly scrolled over the messages in the group chat he had with his friends, all of them bragging or retelling about what they had done over the course of their vacation.

"What'd you do Yunho?" "Something boring probably."

He rolled his eyes at Jongho's sense of humor.

"I actually had a lot of fun at the waterpark with Y/N and my son. I even have a cute video of it."

Scrolling through his gallery, he didn't realize he accidentally clicked on the wrong video thinking it was the one you took as your son was learning to swim. Confidently pressing send, Yunho waited for them to coo over his boy as they always did when anyone shared pictures of their kids.

"Um.... Yunho? What exactly am I watching?" Seonghwa asked while Hongjoong just replied with a shocked faced emoji.

"Damn, did you have fun turning that bed of yours into a waterpark?" Wooyoung added with a winky face emoji.

Wondering what the hell they were talking about, Yunho opened the video he sent and his face fell when he realized what it actually was that he had sent.

"Yu-Yunho.... too big. I can't." You whimpered pathetically on his screen, your hands rubbing along where his bulge poked out on your abdomen.

"Yes you can baby, you've taken all of me before." He reminded you as he slowly stuffed more of his cock inside you until he bottomed out and his cock was enveloped in your walls.

"There? You see. Your tight pussy can fit me just fine."

Feeling so full yet not having him move inside you, you began whining and clenched around him.

"Yunho, please fuck my tight pussy. I wanna get destroyed by your cock. Please." You begged him.

"Awww do you want me to fuck you dumb with my huge cock? Is that what you want?" His mocking tone was unmistakable even if his face wasn't shown.

"I'm gonna fuck you til you're crying baby, don't say you didn't ask for this."

The rest of the video transpired with his grunts and your whimpering. Yunho's cock disappeared in and out of you at a brutal pace, one of his large hands holding you down so you couldn't move away from him. He ripped orgasm after orgasm out of you until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you began squirting all over the sheets.

"Fuckfuckfuck! Yunho!" You cried out, unable to stop shaking as he just continued his pace and made you squirt all over again.

"That's it. Be a good girl and squirt more for me. By the time I'm done, all you're gonna remember is this feeling of me breaking you."

Yunho was giggling out of embarrassment now that he knew what his friends saw.

"All of you delete this right now and pretend it never happened."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang looked down beyond the railing on top of the staircase. Although he should have been horrified, disgusted or the slightest bit sad, his face showed absolutely no emotion whatsoever. He just looked at the scene with no remorse, no emotion and nothing at all.

"Sir?" His trusted butler immediately came up, hands behind his back as he awaited for any instructions

"Take care of this Damian. And make sure no one knows about this. If anyone else knows.... take care of them too." He ordered.

The proper English butler let out a chilling smile as he adjusted his cuff links, happy to be able to put his hidden talents to use.

"Rest assured Sir, no one will suspect a thing." He walked away with chest up and shoulders back.

Meanwhile Yeosang turned his attention back to you, who was sitting with back pressed against the wall, eyes shot wide open as your body couldn't stop trembling and shaking from what had just happened. Kneeling in front of you, Yeosang cupped your face, trying to get you to calm down he began hushing you close to your ear.

"It's ok baby. You're ok, you're going to be ok. And our baby is ok." He cooed at you as he stroked your hair.

"She's..she's..." You couldn't form a proper sentence as your mind replayed everything what just happened.

You had just returned from a small trip to the store and went to your room, only to find Mrs. Kang in there, back turned to you.

"Madame? Is there something I can help you with?" You offered.

When the lady turned to look at you, her face was tear strung and red from all the crying she had done, not from heartbreak, but from rage. In her hand, she had your phone and your heart dropped as you heard what it was that she had been looking at.

"I knew you were probably nothing more than a low, poor common whore, but to actually know you slept with my husband!"

You gasped when she came up and slapped you harshly across the face before yanking your hair and throwing you on the ground. Your hands immediately clasped around your belly protectively and the lady's face fell in shock.

"Don't tell me that the bastard you're carrying is actually..." She clasped a hand over her mouth as it all made sense to her now.

You couldn't help the tears that sprung out from your eyes. This was not what you wanted to happen

"I'm sorry, I-"

You began screaming when she suddenly pulled you up and began dragging you out of the room and into the hallway. When she pressed you up against the railing, you began to fearfully fight back for your and your baby's life, desperately trying to get out of the mad woman's grip.

"I'm going to fucking kill you! You and your child! How dare you do this to me?!"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

"How was I supposed to know there would be a camera right in the middle of the beach placed on a totally secluded place? I mean come on! Hardly anyone ever goes to that spot, why install security cameras on a place hardly anyone goes to?!" San tried to justify himself as you both looked at the computer screen in front of you.

"Maybe precisely because people prefer going to secluded places to do illegal activities?" You glared at him.

"In my defense, it's not like we were hiding a dead body." San wanted to lighten up the mood.

You groaned as you covered your face.

"Why did I even agree to letting you fuck me in public at a beach?"

San rolled his eyes at you.

"Oh stop. You could have said no many times but instead you actually begged me to go harder on you. Don't believe me? I got evidence to back me up."

Pressing play once again, San nudged you so you could look at the video playing again. The good thing about it was that it happened during the night so your faces weren't that visible. But it was clear enough for anyone to see what was going on.

It happened during the vacation you two took to the beach. While talking a midnight stroll through a lonely part of the beach, San had gotten a little too wild and began groping you.

"San! Right now?" You squeaked when he cupped your breasts from behind, pulling your biking top to the side so he could squeeze them better.

"I'm feeling a little romantic babygirl. Wanna have my way with you right here." He whispered in your ear as a hand dipped inside your bikini bottoms, rubbing along your clit.

Your legs were turning to jelly the more you felt his caresses and the steamy kisses he pressed along your shoulder blades.

"If you'd rather go back to the hotel room, I'll carry you there right now." He offered as he began his pull his hands away.

"No! Fuck me right here." You told him.

"I knew you'd open up to the idea." He chuckled as he layed down on the sand, pulling you on top of him.

Both of your swimwear was soon discarded and you were bouncing on top of your husband's cock as the moonlight illuminated your sweaty and dewy bodies. Even after you had both came, you were begging San to keep going, which prompted him to grip your hips and start ramming up into you as he sputtered out words about making another baby with you.

Your lips were still pursed tightly even after the video was over. San stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head in an effort to calm your worries.

"If it makes you feel better....... the camera really captured your gorgeous figure." He snickered and held his hands up protectively when you started smacking him.

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

"You like that my little slut? Like being treated like this?" Mingi's deep voice asked as he tugged on the leash that was wrapped around your neck.

You grunted when he pulled you forward, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips and nose. Your mouth instantly parted, tongue licking the underside of his shaft.

"Such a dirty little cockslut." He teased you.

"Only for you daddy." You winked up at him but were met with a harsh slap on your face.

"Did I say you could talk slut? I don't remember giving you permission to talk." He harshly said.

"Why don't you shut me up then?" You challenged him.

Mingi plunged his cock deep inside your mouth, stuffing himself down your throat, making you gag around his long length. Using the leash, he kept pulling your face to and fro so he could fuck your face. You were moaning and choking all over his cock, spit running down your chin and onto the floor as his tip hit the back of your throat.

"Oh fuck!" Mingi cried out as he pulled out to cum on your face, splattering his hot liquid all over your forehead, cheeks and your tongue as you had it stuck out to eat up some of his cum. Mingi's thumb grazed over your swollen and red lower lip, pinching it slightly.

"You look so pretty like this." He said as he began tightening the leash around you.

"Well you did look pretty." You laughed when Mingi spoke up behind you.

"Shut up!" You pushed his face away when he began nuzzling his face against your cheek as he tried to keep you from freaking out over the fact one of your private videos had accidentally ended up online.

Mingi just chuckled and pulled you onto his lap.

"What are we going to do?" You sighed.

"Look on the bright side, your face was covered by the mask and no one really saw me so as far as anyone is concerned, it's an anonymous couple." He assured you. Wanting to get a little funny, he joked:

"Maybe we could even start an OnlyFans account."

You slapped his chest.

"Song Mingi!"

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Although Wooyoung should have been furious over the fact the CCTV footage of you two in the strip club you used to work in got uploaded without your permission onto an adult site, he was surprisingly calm.

"I could have sworn I payed them to turn the cameras off?" He questioned as he knew fully well that customers weren't allowed to touch the strippers, hence why he paid an expensive amount just to be able to get alone time with you.

"Clearly that didn't happen." You stated as you just watched the video play out in front of you. You weren't going to lie, besides the slight arousal it was giving you to watch the sex tape, it also made you feel fuzzy to remember how your relationship with Wooyoung started in the first place.

"One thousand dollars if you hop your pretty ass over here and bounce yourself on my cock."

Your naked figure wasted no time in going over to take him out of his confinement before fucking yourself on top of him. Wooyoung was spilling out a clutter of curses as he watched your ass bounce on his lap. Soon enough he was landing slaps on your skin until it became red, his hips fucking up into you.

"Your own place, monthly allowance and anything else you want if you leave this place and become my own personal fuck toy."

You nearly came at his words when he made his final offer.

"Fuck! Yes! I accept!" You exclaimed.

Shifting positions, Wooyoung got you on all fours on the couch as he began to relentlessly thrust into you from behind, his cock hitting deep inside you.

"You're my little fuck toy now beautiful. No one else gets to fuck this cunt of yours but me."

You let out a loud yelp that was probably heard outside the door when you felt his hand slap your clit.

"No one, got it?" He snarled at you.

Your thighs clenched together as he remembered how possessive he was, and still was, towards you.

"Did the video affect you so much?" You heard Wooyoung ask as his hands came up to rub your shoulders. You shivered when his teeth grazed at your earlobe.

"Cause I know it affected me."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

"Which one of those fuckers hacked into my personal computer and leaked this?"

Jongho single handedly split an apple which terrified the person in front of him.

"We don't know s-sir...." He trembled.

"Well find out who they were and report back to me, I want you to work fast too. Now get on it!" He ordered harshly.

You came into the office and were confused when a poor intern sped out of there looking like he saw a ghost. Closing the door behind you, you handed Jongho a folder.

"The vein on your forehead is sticking out, what happened?" You knew he was majorly stressing over something and it was probably no small thing.

Huffing, he turned the computer so it could face you.

"One of those fuckers out there got a hold of the systems and managed to hack into my computer. Not only that, they decided to spread a certain video around." He explained, fists clenching and unclenching.

"What video?" You asked.

"Press play and find out."

Doing as he said, you blushed when you saw it was an old video of a time when you and Jongho were still a secret couple. He had stayed over at your house and during the night, he had snuck into your room and crawled his way into your bed, which you allowed him to.

"Shhh. You gotta be quiet princess. Don't want to get caught by your dad right?"

You shook your head and bit down onto one of the plushies laying around you in an effort to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Jongho's thick dick kept sliding in and out of you.

"This is so fucking dirty. I'm ruining you even more by fucking you in the bed you grew up in. Tell me how does it make you feel? To have me shove my cock deep in your pussy in your childhood bedroom while your parents are asleep? Are you enjoying it?"

You whined loudly and clenched more around him as your breathing became more labored and you panted like crazy.

"You enjoyed it so much, you ended up pregnant by me."

You lifted your head to see Jongho wink at you which made you giggle.

"You enjoyed it too, don't even lie."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

My Rumsfeld and Cheney story.

***

I am in my late 20s and have been at my job in the White House for several months. Despite my age, I have been handed the task of helping to organize and arrange the administration’s new initiative to expand the humanities in America’s schools. I have an Ivy League education but I know the real reason I have the job. It is because my father has been lifelong friends with the President and is one of his closest advisors.

But being this is Washington, my father has enemies. At the top of the list are Donald Rumsfeld and his acolyte Dick Cheney — notorious for their scheming, ruthlessness and ways to grab power at the expense of others, and they are eyeing up putting a knife in my father’s back.

I am walking down the hallway. There are two things in my mind. The first is career preservation. If my father is forced out by them, then my career goes down the toilet.

But the main reason is because of something I have finally admitted to myself — that they are both incredibly attractive, and I want to submit to them.

I see Rumsfeld’s hatchet face of a Secretary. She buzzes. I wait for a few minutes, hearing him laughing on the phone. Finally, he has me sent in as he peers over some files and is writing something on a notepad, not paying me any attention, giving me a terse, “How may I help you? I’m not sure I can be of any service to your program.”

I shiver.

“Well, Mr. Rumsfeld,” I say. He perks up a bit hearing the deference in my voice. “I did not come specifically to ask you that. I came today to tell you...” I gulp. “I came to tell you that I know you are coming after my father. And I want to tell you that I know you are going to push him. And that my full loyalty and allegiance is with you.”

He stops writing and looks up.

“I see,” he says, with no emotion at all. “You see, I know my way around Washington. And this is something that I find highly dubious. Some kind of trick. So, you may go, even though you are correct about your father’s fate.”

I knew he would doubt me. So I have him a file.

“Well, in advance of that, I prepared a briefing document for you. It is a lot of information you may find useful to destroy him. Not that you need my assistance.”

He opens the file, adjusts his glasses, and chuckles.

“Well, I know some of this already. But this... I will say, that this could be useful in making my job that much easier.”

He leans back and steeples his fingers.

“Of course, I still do not quite believe you yet.” He swivels his chair. “Come here now and kneel before me. Denounce your father and your entire family and beg me to accept your loyalty.”

I pace around the desk and get on my knees.

“I denounce my father and an ashamed of my family’s name. Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. I beg you. Please accept my allegiance to you. I promise I will serve you in any capacity that you wish, Sir.”

He lets out a Cheshire Cat smile and laughs.

“Very good. That is a good boy.” He then stands and beads to his belt. “Now there is one more chance to show your utmost loyalty. If you do this, and do this well... I will allow you the chance to serve me, as you put it.”

His pants and shorts drop with my assistance. He sits back down kingly, and I begin to take him in my mouth. His hand quickly moves to the back of my head, the weight of his Princeton class ring evident, as he steers me at the pace and depth he wants.

“That’s it. You’re starting to prove your worth to me. I assumed you were as worthless as your old man. But I can see what you think of me. Look up at me and tell me you worship me.”

I pant and look up at his smirking face.

“Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. I worship you like the superior person you are, and have done so since the first time I heard your name, Sir.”

He nods and forced my mouth over his cock again, now gripping my hair snugly and fucking my face. I am moaning as I suck away. Finally, I can hear him gasp a bit. Moaning, and I sense what is coming. He explodes all over my face, and then laughs.

“Let me look at you. The son of my arch-enemy, dripping in my cum.”

I let him look as he smiles at his trophy. Finally, he nods to the tissues, and tells me that I may clean myself up, he will be in touch, and I may take my leave. He then heads right back to his work, paying me no mind.

I head to the door and pause.

“Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. May I please say something before I leave?”

He looks up, nods, and tells me to be quick.

I walk towards his desk and am opposite it. I kneel once again, and this time cup my hands like I am praying.

“Thank you so much for letting me suck your cock, Sir. I know how lucky I am to be able to breath the same air as you, let alone to know I can pleasure you. I hope I have shown my allegiance to you, Sir.”

He looks at me with a stern and serious gaze, pausing as he does.

“You recognized your place and chose wisely to admit it. You’ll be able to rise up the ranks here so long as you remember that you are beneath me and you live to do as I order. Now you may take your leave.”

***

It is a few weeks later and he has finally been in touch. 7 pm. That night. His estate.

I arrive promptly. A maid answers the door. I head him laughing, and I am not sure who. The maid tells him that the guest has arrived.

I walk in and am paralyzed with fear. Flanking him to one side is Dick Cheney. To the other is his wife, Lynne.

“Well, there he is! The ambitious young man who will be a big help to us that I told you about.”

Their mouths drop a bit. Dick just stares at me coldly.

“Surely this is a joke,” Lynne says, hoping it is not the case. Rumsfeld tells her it is not, and then directs me to tell them both what I think about my father, especially in comparison to him, and what I wish for out of my life.

“My father is a pathetic excuse of a man and not even fit to shine your shoes, Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. The only thing I wish for out of life is to be your faithful servant.”

They both stare at me incredulously, although evil grins cross both of their faces. Rumsfeld smiles widely and orders me to tell them what I did to serve him. So I told them how I sucked his cock and was lucky to wear his cum.

“Now, boy. I want you to know something. It is very hard in DC to find people you can trust and actually respect. Dick and Lynne are the only two people alive I call friends and consider as my equals. And that means that you serve them, too. Do you understand that?”

“Yes. I understand that I also serve Mr. and Mrs. Cheney.”

“Oh, let’s see about that,” Lynne says, grinning as she leans back in her chair.

Lynne and I have crossed paths a few times in my past. I am tasked with the humanities project. She is in charge of the agency that issues our humanities grants. She does not like that I am running this program and let me know about this and has done all she can to prevent me from enacting it unless it meets her goals.

I turn to her.

“Now, I told you that you did not deserve the job you have. You probably thought it is because of your age or who your father is. But that’s not the reason why.” She pauses. “Tell me if you agree with me... but the reason why is because you are an idiot.”

I hear Rumsfeld stifle a laugh. But I have no choice, even though I hesitate.

“You’re right. I’m an idiot, Mrs. Cheney.”

She laughs and nods.

“I am so glad that we cleared that up. I am sure that from now on, you will do as I say. I will tell you the programs I support and how much I want them supported financially. You are going to meet with me once a week with a draft of succinct reasons why you now support exactly as I want, which you will then defend to the president. Of course, I know you lack the intellectual capabilities to perform something like that up to my standards, so you can expect me to red mark your work with a pen like a kindergarten teacher.” She smirks. “And I am sure your father will be in the room, too.”

“Now, there is more than just that. One thing I want you to do — anytime you enter my office, you will show me proper respect by kissing my feet. Why don’t you do that now?”

I steel myself, press my lips to her shoes, and then thank her as she laughs as loud as she ever has in her life. She tells me to stand up and then ask her husband what he thinks.

He just smiles at me. Before I can even say anything, he starts to speak.

“I am so glad that you have recognized this about yourself. It is not easy to admit you are inferior. But I have always seen a lot of potential in you.”

He continues to smile.

“It won’t be too long until your father is back home in Wisconsin where he will be buried. Once that happens, and I inherit his job, I am going to have a need for a chief aide. Usually, this job is in an advisory capacity. But for your role, I envision it more fit for your capabilities. Having me coffee ready. Shining my shoes before any important meetings. Not saying anything beyond ‘Yes, Sir,’ and ‘No, Sir,’ unless I tell you to speak beyond that. Any sort of errand or task me or Lynne or Don want, it gets done. Got that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Now, your peers and people who have worked for your father for a very long time are going to see you hold my coat or wipe off my desk for me. What do you think they will say about this?”

“They’ll mock me, Sir.”

“They will. But deep down inside, they are going to be jealous because each and every single last one of them wants to be in the position you find yourself in — dominated by your superiors.” I can see Rumsfeld not in agreement. “Now, you will also perform the same tasks that Don had you do... only I will not be so gentle. And I will also make sure Don keeps you on his calendar as well so you can continue to serve him as well, being that he made you his toy before sharing you.”

“And don’t worry. I will still find the time and ways for you to correct your work so you can try to come up to even half of our level.”

I meekly say “Thank you.”

Rumsfeld stands up, as does Lynne. He slaps me on the back,

“Just think that your epitaph is going to read about how you were the faithful servant to the most powerful three people who ever lived.” He and Lynne head to the door. “Now get on your knees before Dick.”

I do, and he chuckles and heads to his belt.

[bruh-haikyuu]

REQUEST: Can you do a scenario where lev meets his s/o because she playing the piano or singing. Thank you. Love your writing.❤️

A/N: Thank you for requesting!! Ok Sasha storytime 😳😳 I used to be in a piano class since I was 5 (I quit, but I still play just for fun). And I joined this competition when I was 9 and got selected as one of the finalists - and I was so fucking surprised bc jesus, I play averagely for all I can say... I’m not the best, but I’m definitely not the worst. But there was this messed up system where more familiar faces/winners would definitely be chosen. And despite some other kids messing up a lot, the MCs removed me first bc “Sorry, no one knows you around here. You played better than some others, but maybe if you talked more, you could win. No one really wants a winner they’re not familiar with.” I couldn’t really say anything. I knew they were right. So I left with a Certificate of Participation and not even proof that the judges chose me as a finalist. THIS particular event got me so fucked up for so long that I tried to get myself sick/injured so that I wouldn’t have to go to my piano classes for 4 weeks straight. Eventually, I pulled out after my exam and started playing for myself, with the songs that I enjoy, whenever I want. So,,, fuck those MCs and my teacher, I’m a bad bitch you can’t kill me 😎 *plays Superbass by Nicki Minaj* FEM!READER BELOW

duende. | haiba lev

summary: in which lev has no sense of direction, but finds a lone sugarplum fairy along the way.

word count: 2438

warnings: none

(n.) the feeling of profound awe experienced when viewing a piece of art, watching a performance or listening to music that has deeply moved a person

It’s difficult to tell precisely... but Lev was definitely lost.

It wasn’t his fault the school had to be so large! What’s the point of having so much staircases when they weren’t going to lead to one conjoined hallway? It was like a maze, except Lev knew he wasn’t getting anywhere near a familiar area.

Crap! he cursed, pawing nervously at his empty pant pocket. I left my phone in the clubroom.

Light was already fading from the west-side window and he hadn’t come across anyone for the past 15 minutes. He recalled something Taketora said about a part of the school being dead deserted. Was this that place? He couldn’t tell.

He was getting impatient. If Lev didn’t hurry up and submit his additional worksheets to Sakamatsu-sensei before sundown, it was over. Goodbye to the club’s training camp. Goodbye to becoming the greatest ace Nekoma has ever had. Goodbye to everything he ever cared about.

Instinct taking over, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him and called out to the empty hallways for someone. Anyone. “Hello?! Sakamatsu-sensei...?!”

And when the vacant corridors replied back to him, Lev stilled, frozen.

“...Piano?”

Alisa had told him something about ghosts once. It was right after she’d gone out to watch some horror movie with her friends. Lev couldn’t remember exactly her words, but his sister had “slept” with her eyes open that night and he wondered if he should be taking her advice seriously.

But this didn’t sound like a ghost. Something that sounded so beautiful wouldn’t have any murderous intention behind it... right?

The melody reminded Lev of those old ballets his grandmother would play on TV when she visited. Every glissando a delicate spin by one of the performers, and every perky note a tiny leap. He could almost see them, those beautiful dancers, and Lev wondered—if he were to trace the music to its source, would he find a charming sugarplum fairy waiting for him?

His feet were already ahead of his thoughts. Lev couldn’t even tell where he was in the gallery of clubrooms. His senses of direction numbed, he relied on his ears and the sweet, sweet melody of the piano that was getting warmer. And warmer. Warmer.

Hot.

“Or...chestra Club?” he read out, the placard’s kanji wrapping itself around his head. Peering through the rectangular window of the doors, Lev zeroed in on the bareness of the room, save for the large grand piano settled in the center.

This is the place... right? he thought, retreating slowly. No one’s here.

Looking around for good measure, Lev scratched his head. Ah, geez, I don’t even know where I am anymore. He reconsidered throwing away his curiosity and return to his quest for the third year’s Teacher’s Room before his Biology teacher could scold him for his incompetence. But the little fluff of hair peeking out from behind the piano swayed him over and he didn’t even stop to think when he barged through the doors.

“Fairy!”

The girl who squeaked in shock really did convince Lev for a millisecond that she was a fairy. Straight out of that stage his TV had replayed for him. Tiny in stature, eyes shining like morning dewdrops and fingers pressed again the white keys, thin and graceful as if you were producing magic. All excluding the lack of a pair of shimmering wings sprouted on her back, you were an enigma in this barren universe.

“I’m human,” you said, voice like air. Breezing and pushing like wind.

Lev approached the center of the room, speculating if your glamour would disappear if he were to come closer. “T-That song you played. That was from a ballet, right?”

“It’s Tchaikovsky,” you replied bluntly, grinning. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before, can’t recall... We’re not too familiar, but you’re awfully rude for a first year, aren’t you? At least address me with the proper suffixes if you’re going to assume my species like that, Giant-kun.”

Speak for yourself! he thought, becoming more and more amused by this fanciful person. “I mean, you don’t look like a high school student either—”

You, completely ignoring him, returned your attention the piano, playing another song. This one faster, more fluid. Seeing your hands up-close, Lev eyed the muted details of your hand. A gentle blush on its skin, illuminated by the sunlight from the large window sitting ajar. His sister would kill to have a hint at your manicure routine.

So this is what a pianist’s hands looks like.

“Oh, I remember now,” hands coming to a rest on your skirt, the fairy girl turned to him, as elegant as ever. Now that the room was silent, there was a nervousness that lingered in the air. “You’re one of Kuroo’s boys, aren’t you?”

Hearing the familiar name of the no-nonsense captain of the Volleyball Club, Lev perked up, “You know Kuroo-san?”

“Of course, we’re in the same class after all.”

Same class. That would mean—no way!

“Y-you’re older than me?!”

You gave him a bright smile. Added to your fairy-like personage, Lev couldn’t help but to notice that this upperclassman of his was aware of his existence. There was actually a girl—who was awfully cute and just his type if he thought about it—in this godforsaken school who knew about Nekoma’s ‘ace’, Haiba Lev.

This was a dream, right? No, he shouldn’t be saying such a thing. In fact, Lev had gotten so engrossed in this reality that he didn’t realize how much he was staring into your beautiful face before you piped up again.

“Oh, it’s almost time for me to lock up. I forgot to ask, did you need anything when you came in here?”

Wait, what time is it?!

Lev let out a strangled noise between a dying boar and a tearful sob. Collapsing on the floor before his worried senpai, he squeezed the papers in his hand. Oh, it was over now. Over, over, over. Hello wretched make-up exam, goodbye glorious training camp...

Kneeling down next to him, you peeked at his wincing face. “H-hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Raising his head to look into your swirling eyes, Lev pursed his lips. Damn, you were totally going to think he was uncool after this. Grabbing you by the shoulders, he lowered his head in a bow.

“Senpai, could you show me the way to the third year’s teacher’s room? I’ve got an assignment to submit before 5 pm and I don’t know where I am! Please, senpai, I need to—”

No more words were exchanged when you grabbed Lev’s collosal hands in your delicate ones and dragged him through the door. You sped and hurtled down the corridors, bringing him along with you in this strange joyride. It was a funny sensation, similar to being towed around a park by a wild dog on a leash—except you weren’t a dog, but simply a shorter person whose size reminded him a bit of Yaku-san...

“S-Senpai—?!” he wheezed out, long legs pedalling in front of him. For someone nearly half his height, you were really fast; he wondered if you should’ve went for the Track and Field Club instead of the Orchestra Club.

Just as he had thought of letting go before you became a physical hazard to him, you skid to a halt in front of a door. Panting, you smiled up at him. “Here we are. Y-You’re not late, right?”

Eyes darting between the doors to the teacher’s office and you, the burning intention of a hug fuzzed out Lev’s brain—unfortunately, that would have to wait until later. Shoving the door open, he dashed inside the near-empty office and handed over his pile of crumpled assignments to the jaded Sakamatsu-sensei, face red.

Filing through the papers, the Biology teacher griped. “Well, all the assignments I asked for you to do are here... I’ll inform the Volleyball Club supervisor that you’ll be able to join the training camp this weekend.”

Saved. He was saved.

Exiting the office, he bowed before you—his fairy godmother—and murmured. “Thank you, senpai! You saved my life... ”

“Y-You’re welcome,” you said. “But I don’t think I went as far as “saving your life”, um... what was your name?”

“Haiba! Haiba Lev. Thank you so much!”

When you giggled, Lev heard the choirs of angels fill his head. God, he really wanted to hug you, stuff you in his pocket and bring you home with him to coo at and cuddle.

“The pleasure is mine, Haiba-kun. You’re an interesting person, you know? I’m glad we met.”

Lev really felt like he’d won the lottery. Was this finally his chance? Was he going to get a super cute, older girlfriend before his intolerable seniors? Unthinkable! Yet here he was, indulging in the soft smile of Nekoma’s resident sugarplum fairy, as if his entire gag reel of clumsy flukes never existed.

“Ah! I forgot to lock the doors to the clubroom!” you yelped. Even in panic, Lev thought you looked cute. “It was nice getting to know you, Haiba-kun. The main staircase is right over there, so you’ll be able to get back without getting lost. Be safe!”

Before he could offer his hand in accompanying you—at least being next to you for as long as possible—you had already sped off into an indistinct corner, the amber light of sundown fading with your shadow. And once again, Lev was alone.

Damn. He didn’t even ask for your name.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“You’re asking me... if I know a girl in my class called ‘Fairy-senpai’?”

The gaze in Lev’s green eyes were resolute. “Yes.”

Kuroo sighed, wiping off his sweat with a towel. Day by day, he swore, the first-years were getting more and more difficult to deal with. “Someone named Fairy who hangs around in that derelict part of the third floor sounds shady as hell. And what club did you say she was from?”

“Orchestra Club.”

“We have an Orchestra Club?”

Lev was getting nowhere with the rooster-headed captain; it was either that, or Kuroo was intentionally leading him to a dead-end out of sheer mischief. Anything could happen with him.

It had been a total of 18 hours since he’d last seen you, and Lev’s head had never felt any emptier. He’d startled his parents and Alisa enough by playing one of his grandmother’s ballet DVDs once he’d arrived home. But it wasn’t the same. Even the visual movements of the ballerinas and the skill of the ensemble didn’t amount to your solo rendition.

Yours was more natural, more sturdy. Something he could feel and see without opening his eyes or reaching out to it. Smitten with your performance, Lev slept that night, head filled with the thought of seeing you again, his little sugarplum fairy in the maze of doors and desolation. And maybe, he’d even get your number this time.

“She’s really good at the piano and has a twinkly smile. Fairy-senpai is a bit short too, really tiny,” Lev hesitated to continue, looking around for safety “... A bit like Yaku-san’s height.”

“What’s this I hear about my height? Hey, Lev! Why aren’t you practicing your digging receives?!”

Wincing at the stinging kick thrown at his back, Lev pouted miserably. Watching the poor behemoth being dragged away by the demonic upperclassman, an implausible feeling of pity struck through Kuroo, and he called out for the libero.

“A cute girl who looks like a fairy, can play the piano and is in the Orchestra Club? In our class?” Yaku repeated after Lev and Kuroo’s explanation. Tapping his chin in deep thought, he replied dubiously. “Doesn’t that sound a bit like L/N-san to you?”

“Ehh? L/N-chan can play the piano? I never knew that.”

Yaku clicked his tongue indignantly. “That’s because you barely talk to her. Maybe if you attended cleaning duty properly, you would’ve realized that when you’re paired up with her.”

The sound of his seniors bickering was already white noise to him. L/N. Repeating the syllables on his tongue, Lev tasted a sugary relish linger in his mouth. What a beautiful name. A fitting name, and suddenly, he already sensed that your first name would be just as wonderful.

“Though I’m impressed that you managed to get a full conversation out of L/N-san. Did you scare her or something?” Yaku snickered at Lev’s unappreciative scowl. “It’s just that L/N-san only says something when she’s required to. Otherwise... she’s really quiet. I’ve only heard her say ‘thank you’, ‘I’m sorry’, ‘yes’ and ‘no’ for the past three years, everything else we know about her comes from gossip.”

Lev’s chest swelled up and he smirked. “Maybe she likes younger guys like me.”

“I think she likes you because you’ve got nothing going on in your head at all,” the team captain scoffed attracting the giggles of his surrounding teammates. “You are right though, Lev. L/N-chan is a really cute person... I might get interested one of these days.”

“H-Huh?! C’mon, Kuroo-san! I’ve got dibs on her first!”

Nearly there, the captain thought. Lev’s ears were already burning red, a clear sign of his impulsive outburst. And when the timing was right, the Volleyball Club loved to use his recklessness for profit.

Crossing his arms in faux doubt, Kuroo shrugged. “I don’t know... I highly doubt you’ll attract her attention if you’re not even a regular on the team...”

Furrowing his brows deeply, Lev snatched a ball from the ground and stared deeply into the captain’s lacklustre eyes. “I-I’ll show you! I’ll become a regular on the team and the ace! That’s why I’m going to go practice right now, right, Yaku-san?!”

Even Yaku, completely amused and alarmed, had to do a double take. “R-Right... Do your best then.”

“I will!”

Chuckling at Lev’s shrinking back, Kuroo patted himself on the back for a job well done. Kenma, who had watched the entire nasty exchange go down, was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Weakly punching his childhood friend on his shoulder, he grumbled. “Great... Now that he’s fired up about some girl, he’ll keep asking me for more tosses. Kuroo, if I pass out because of your ‘encouragement’, you’re paying for my health insurance.”

Lev couldn’t hear the new conversation happening between the team’s setter and the captain, but that didn’t matter right now. He was going to practice, become better, then the best. Then ask you out, his sugarplum fairy in the third floor’s Orchestra Club clubroom. Lev felt invincible.

[huntermagazine362]

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Picture 5 of 20Grammarly’s mistake improvements were very easy to see contrasted to other on-line grammar checkers. Photo 6 of 20Grammarly found a lot more content-based mistakes than various other on-line grammar checkers. Photo 7 of 20Grammarly sends out regular reports with updates concerning your most typical blunders as well as the number of words you inspected.

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Image 9 of 20I suched as that Grammarly allows you set a creating genre, which transforms how you could edit your job. Photo 10 of 20Compared to various other on-line grammar checkers, I located Grammarly regularly discovered more errors and also made much better recommendations. Photo 11 of 20It takes a few seconds for Grammarly to refine your record.

This way, I really did not need to wait for it to refine my text several times. Image 13 of 20I had Grammarly check student work as well as a sentence error test file I produced to see the amount of sorts of mistakes it could capture. It surpassed other grammar checkers. Photo 14 of 20I suched as exactly how simple it was to approve Grammarly’s recommendations from the program, online or in Word documents.

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I found this helpful when blogging about different products on the internet. Picture 16 of 20Grammarly offers numerous strategies, however they are rather expensive month to month. Photo 17 of 20The free version catches fewer mistakes than the paid-for version, yet I advise using it for at the very least a little while since Grammarly will email you discounts for the costs variation.

The company prepares to launch an Android version quickly. Photo 19 of 20Grammarly has a robust, searchable Frequently asked questions web page where you can find help with any troubles you might have with the program. Photo 20 of 20Grammarly’s on the internet text box mosaic was the least intrusive and also least disruptive of the software program we tested.

Compared to the competitors, it isn’t as buggy or sluggish, and also it captures more errors as well as offers excellent suggestions for repairing them. Grammarly is specifically handy if you have a respectable take care of on grammar as well as spelling currently as well as know what you’re doing. I’m not exactly sure I ‘d suggest this program to English language learners, pupils or creating beginners.

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I ran Grammarly with a handful of tests and also used the program in my day-to-day writing for over a month to get a feeling of exactly how handy it is. The software discovers comma mistakes easily, which is among one of the most typical errors I saw as a writing teacher.

For the tests, I created a paper which contained sentences with common English grammar errors along with student-written sentences that consisted of errors or negative routines to avoid when composing. Grammarly racked up a 60 percent detection price, which, while not excellent, blew the competitors out of the water; the next best rating was 30 percent from ProWritingAid. Grammarly has a free version, which works, however the service desires you to update and is regularly advising you concerning all the features you’re losing out on.

As a result of this, I wouldn’t recommend installing the program unless you intend to upgrade to premium. Once you’ve registered for the totally free version, Grammarly begins sending you e-mails for discounts on the premium plan, so I likewise suggest awaiting those before you update to the full cost choice.

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You can after that scroll via the doc to deal with mistakes. In instance a mistake confuses you, the system offers a short description for its tip. While useful for somebody skilled in grammar and also punctuation, these aren’t fairly finding out devices. They operate a lot more like tips. When you acquire the costs version, you obtain weekly standing updates that let you recognize exactly how you’re doing, which I believed was a wonderful function.

With Grammarly, it’s ideal to wait until you complete making up before you inspect for mistakes. Despite the fact that it is better at checking your job as you go than any various other program, there’s a lag in its ability to register when you’re repairing typos on your very own. Therefore, you’ll intend to wait to click through the testimonial instead of try to edit within the message box or electronic record.

Among the aspects that makes Grammarly the most effective choice for an on the internet grammar mosaic is exactly how easy it is to use on various internet apps and also in Microsoft Word. Unlike other grammar checkers, the application isn’t invasive, and it appears in texts boxes online. A number of the other programs I assessed made it tough to properly determine the trouble message, however Grammarly’s red highlighting is easy to see as well as clearly marks where the mistake is.

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The site after that redirects you to a suite where you can read the message in your e-mail or message with more information and also useful input from the checker. There’s a short lag while the software application analyzes your material, and it adds a couple of additional steps to your creating process. Nonetheless, Grammarly’s helpful and also proper recommendations trump the minor delay.

You can compose and save records within Grammarly if you would certainly like, and you can also mount an application on your phone to check your composing on the move. While I think Grammarly functions far better than its competitors, its price is a little much. It sets you back just under $30.00 for the premium version every month.

The cost of the solution is reduced when you pay in advance for longer amount of times. The yearly strategy is the finest offer if you can manage parting with $139.95 upfront. You can change to any of these plans whenever you would certainly such as, so I suggest trying the monthly version for some time prior to committing to the quarterly or annual strategies.

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This is really helpful because you utilize different voices when writing for different target markets, and it’s great that Grammarly can adapt to different kinds of tasks. The application also makes it very easy to ignore its advice, which is especially practical if the software obtains glitch in your paper, which occurs occasionally.

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I located this feature helpful when I utilized unusual terms planned for an interior audience. Registered subscribers can get 24-hour support from Grammarly’s site via a demand attribute. If you can’t discover the answer you require on the searchable Frequently asked questions page, the system motivates you to send a ticket. The solution guarantees to reply to your issue within a day.

From the homepage, you can develop or upload files as well as edit them straight. You can additionally add a Grammarly extension in Microsoft Word. While I found this grammar checker the least invasive as well as buggy, there were times I had to await it to tons, and often it didn’t immediately sign up the adjustments I made within the paper.

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Grammarly is a good device that can assist you prevent typos when working online. It’s not fairly excellent sufficient to keep those who aren’t confident in their composing abilities from making large errors in their material. It also includes a couple of extra actions to your writing process, and also there is a small hold-up while the system checks your job.

I suched as having another collection of eyes on my work, and utilizing the program gave me added self-confidence prior to I sent my writing to my editor. While it’s nice not to miss out on a comma in an e-mail or while publishing on social networks, I’m not certain the program deserves its hefty price month-to-month, especially if you’re a newbie looking to discover more about writing.

This Grammarly testimonial will certainly dive in deep with benefits and drawbacks to completely unload just how this system can be of usage to. Understanding these facets will certainly be necessary in determining if Grammarly fits your needs or otherwise – Download Grammarly For Wps Office. If you are considering making a dedication to this application, be sure to do the research.

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This makes editing and enhancing and examining your work much quicker than conventional approaches. Instead of inspecting at the end, you will see today if you have actually made a mistake or blunder. This is particularly helpful if you neglect to strike that “check punctuation and grammar” switch prior to submitting job. Rather, you can transform as well as approve the errors as well as errors as they occur, developing a clean outcome.

There’s no requirement to track the blunders as well as double back. Grammarly does the help you. You can likewise hover over the suggested blunders to see if you need to accept it or otherwise. Human beings make errors. If we really did not, we would not need Grammarly or other spell checker tools. Fortunately, the Grammarly editor is highly exact as well as does not make a great deal of blunders.

Some suggested mistakes might not be appropriate. However, this is rarely when it concerns Grammarly solutions. When it concerns performing reliable grammar checks, precision is important for the last item. Grammarly does even more than right basic errors. The program additionally discusses the errors. This can help you to enhance as well as to gain from blunders for future job.

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This is different than conventional grammar checks like those in Microsoft Word. Word processors do not always explain why something is incorrect. The descriptions from the program come in two alternatives. A quick-view can give a short bit of the modification. From there, you can accept the change and continue your means.

This aids in discovering what the error is, why it is a mistake, as well as just how to remove the error (Download Grammarly For Wps Office). Using Grammarly regularly will help in recognizing where to put commas and enhance sentence wording. Overall, it will certainly aid you come to be a stronger writer. At the end of the day, it’s a great source for individuals that not just write frequently yet are looking for to progress authors.

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Grammarly allows you to select a favored language. It also lets you determine which sites to utilize Grammarly on and also include new words to the dictionary. Including words to the dictionary is great if you regularly utilize vernacular, brand, or acronyms. This can be valuable especially for individuals in the marketing field.

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This software program is relatively easy to use regardless of what your degree of technical abilities could be. Once you install the plugin or extension, you are great to relocate forward!Grammarly will highlight incorrect grammar or words. From there, you hover over it to see what the suggested change is as well as choose to approve it or not.

Grammarly is wonderful for individuals that discover grammar is not in their convenience zone. It’s a very easy option that creates top quality outcomes. Grammarly has app versions that can be downloaded and install as well as utilized on mobile phones. Grammarly is offered on both Android and iPhones. It sets up a key-board especially for inspecting errors while on your phone.

Grammarly is not for every person and every kind of usage though. Depending upon your area of work, writing needs, and chosen systems, you may be able to avoid Grammarly completely. Particular features can be enhanced and also ought to be thought about before deciding to use Grammarly. Grammarly does collaborate with many websites but not with whatever.

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If you regularly use Google docs, Grammarly could not be that valuable for you. Grammarly is likewise not compatible with Microsoft products, like Word, on Mac laptops. Grammarly is currently in beta testing for Google docs compatibility. However, as of right this writing, it is not a solidified feature – Download Grammarly For Wps Office. Grammarly is suitable with Firefox, Safari, Chrome, and Side.

This works if you require to prevent regularly pasting e-mails, social media web content, and also various other infiltrate a word processing program to figure out if it is suitable for publishing. Grammarly is also compatible on platforms like Facebook Carrier, Slack, Salesforce, LinkedIn, and Jira. While it does cover a great deal, the Grammarly free version is still rather restricted.

If you just need fundamental grammar punctuation, you will certainly be good to go. For some people, this is sufficient. If you are simply aiming to have an e-mail proofread, the totally free version will certainly supply in this capacity. The checks are more extensive than word processors, so it does still offer enough protection.

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[maknaesdancersrappers]

on the first day of kinkmas, my lover did to me:

[ a n g r y s e x ]

>TAEYONG

>warning/s: face fucking, unprotected sex

a/n: when i was at the sleepover, my friend told me about how he and the girl he’s seeing gets off at hating on a person and we were laughing so hard because it’s technically hate/angry sex right?? Just not towards each other lol anD ALSO THIS TEACHER WAS BASED OFF A REAL PROF I HAD BACK IN COLLEGE THAT COST ME A “Failure due to absences” MARK ON MY RECORDS i was that chicken towards him and i feel like most of this was just me shitting on him huhuhu if soMEONE FROM MY SCHOOL RECOGNIZES WHO THIS IS IM GONNA-- pls dont spread it around if u kno who this prof is huhuhuhuhu im probably //already// on his hitlist

-

Everyone hated at least one teacher they had come across in school; you met yours during Junior year in college. Mr. Chon was your Writing for Film elective professor and you’ve heard all the stories about how strict and uptight he was. You had blockmates who had him as a prof last semester and they always talked about how every meeting with him was living hell. You weren’t happy at the news, especially since he wasn’t even the prof you signed up for in the beginning.

There was only one class for the elective and you were able to get into the list before the final enrollment date, but because more people signed up for it and the registrar is absolute shit; you, along with other people, have been transferred to a new class--with the strictest, terror prof known in school.

You tried to appeal to the registrar for you to move back, but they put the blame on the Department of Comm for the class list and in the end, you weren’t allowed to move.

The first meeting with Mr. Chon was terrifying. Everyone in the room felt like they couldn’t breathe; so quiet that you could hear a pin drop and the air conditioning system sounded deafening. This elective was comprised mostly of Comm students and there were only a few of you that weren’t; one of which was your seatmate, Lee Taeyong, a dance major.

Before Mr. Chon entered the room, the two of you promised to help each other since your free time matched one another’s and neither of you wanted to do this alone. His friends ditched him last minute when he enrolled, opting for another elective he didn’t have the prerequisite of.

The first couple of classes with Mr. Chon was bearable. He made you guys watch highly rated films from his favorite directors during class and series like ‘Lost’ and ‘Designated Survivor’ for weekend homework. When it came to the first assignment, which was to pitch film ideas, it was all easy going aside from the one slip up majority of the class, with you included, of not printing it out in the specific format he made clear on the first day.

Strike one.

But when the time came to start working on the final project, as it is a full script for a film, the stress of it all came piling up. Mr. Chon gave out assignments to create character sheets, a lesson he never gave on, and expected you to submit a properly written one from research alone.

But before you can even create character sheets, he had to choose and approve a logline from the ones you’ve submitted beforehand. You tried to be nice and formal in your emails to him, always ending the message with a “Thank you and God bless.”

His replies sounded harsh despite the lack of words that would support that description. He had reprimanded you for submitting an edited version of the logline you presented in class, saying that no matter how good it was, if it was not submitted properly the day he had expected to receive it on a printed paper, he had expected you to revise all off them.

Strike two.

So you apologized for your mistake and made new loglines; and luckily he had chosen one that suited his taste. When it came to creating a character sheet, you were reprimanded for the format and given an example on how to make a proper one. However, you didn’t quite understand the file he had sent and took your chance into making minor changes to your previous submission, taking into account the little information you’ve understood from the text.

Strike three.

He reprimanded you (AGAIN), through email, for the ‘pathetic’ edit you’ve made. Ordering you to personally consult him after class or through scheduled one-on-one meetings in the Comm office where two other assistants can be witnesses to the whole ordeal.

This was indeed disadvantageous to you because while your classmates had the freedom to consult him 24/7 through email, you had to wait for class--one you had once a week--before you can even officially start anything, and that’s IF he approves anything.

At this point, you gave up; on him, the class, and your grade. It might be too late to officially drop out of class, but you can use up all your allowed absences until he’s failed you for it.

You were upset at your decision but it was the best sounding option you had, even Taeyong agreed to it because he couldn’t even get his loglines approved. You agreed to accompany him when he had his one-on-one consultation for his third revision of loglines and nearly half an hour later, he practically stormed out of the office while violently whispering to you that he was joining your little ‘boycott’ of the subject after Mr. Chon told him to revise everything again in the most passive aggressive manner.

Both of you had three allowed absences before your final grades would be considered FA (Failure due to Absences) and the two of you spent the supposed class hours together instead to ease each other of the anxiety of it all.

“I hate him.” You snarled, throwing your head back to gulp the can of beer Taeyong had offered you. “It wasn’t even fair to begin with!”

It was the last allowed absence you had for class. The thought of it made you cry, thinking how it would tarnish your records and disappoint your parents if they find out.

Taeyong wipes your tear with his thumb. You had oddly gotten close with Taeyong because of the elective; working together to do your assignments, consulting one another for suggestions, and especially sharing mutual hate for the class. It was maybe a month and a half already, but it’s as if you and Taeyong had been friends since freshman year.

“We both enrolled and paid on time for the original class and prof, why were we the ones moved?” You sniffed, silently thanking Taeyong for inviting you to his dorm so you could vent out your feelings to someone who understands the situation.

“I know. But the system sucks, what can a couple of students do against them?” He sighs, rubbing his eyes in frustration; probably wanting to cry as well with how his voice shook. He was his organization’s vice president and he had plans to run as president the next year, but with an FA grade, he doubts he can even make the minimum CQPA to run as treasurer. “Ah, hyung would be so disappointed if I don’t take his spot as org president.”

You glance at the wall clock as you take another gulp of beer, “T-there’s like 30 minutes before class actually starts… should we just go?”

Taeyong snaps his attention towards you, “Are you crazy? And what will we say for ditching class for two meetings? We don’t have anything to present to him. He might as well give us an ‘F’ as fat as him if we show up empty handed.”

You hated how he was right; Mr. Chon would probably eat you alive in front of class for doing so. “Yeah, w-we shouldn’t. We need to commit to this stupid idea of ours.”

A phone begins to ring and Taeyong stands up to answer the call outside.

You let your gaze wander around the room, noting how clean and organized it was. You vaguely remember him telling you how he always cleaned up after his roommate, but he took no offence to it, rather enjoying the act of tidying up as a stress reliever or time killer.

As you finish off your beer, you receive a notification for a new email from no other than Mr. Chon, reminding you of the consequences if you don’t show up to class and the way he had worded it so condescendingly made your blood boil, and on top of that had it CC’d to both assistants AND the chairperson of the department, you just felt utter rage from embarrassment.

You put your phone down before you could even reply with the most improper and vulgar message you can think of. At the same time, you hear the front door slam and Taeyong is stalking into the room; face red and nostrils flared.

Before you could even ask, he’s screaming in frustration: “Our president found out that I’m purposefully failing a class and is demanding me to attend it! He even went as far as threatening to take me off my position as vice president!”

“Then make him go through the class and let’s see how he deals with Mr. Chon, who, by the way, just emailed us. He’s reminding us of the consequences and you know what’s worse? He had copies of the email sent to both assistants and the chairperson of the department! Like, was that even necessary?”

“What the hell?” He checks his phone immediately, scowling when he finds the email. “What is his problem?! Does he get off of our misery or something? I’ve never dealt with this kind of prof before! He doesn’t even fucking teach!”

You don’t really know Taeyong long enough to think formulate this opinion, but you’ve never seen him so angry and honestly, he looked hot.

Maybe he caught how you looked at him, but one second he’s ready to spit out more hate, instead he slams his lips over yours, grabbing the sides of your face with his hands after dropping his phone to the floor.

It caught you off guard; making you stumble back a few steps at how he met your lips, your hands flying to grasp the cloth of his shirt around his waist. He steadies you against him, slipping his fingers over your nape as his tongue licks your bottom lip.

When you part your lips to make way for him, he wastes no time slipping the wet muscle into your mouth and exploring the warm cavern. You both moan at the contact of your tongues, tasting each other of the beers and mints you previously had.

“Fuck,” He gasps in between kisses, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You look so hot when you’re angry.” You guide his hand over your chest.

“Yeah?” Taeyong squeezes your breast, moving his lips onto your jaw. He slides his thigh between your legs and rubs it over your crotch, hurriedly.

Stifling a moan, you stretch your neck out to give him more access and thread your fingers through his hair as you grind yourself on him.

He brings his mouth over yours again after slipping his hands under your shirt to get a better feel of your boobs, pressing his thumbs over your nipples until they were pert to his touch. He helps you out of your blouse, using the moment your lips are separated to unhook your bra. While he shrugs out of his own shirt, you fall to your knees and begin to to unzip his pants.

Once you were able to push his pants down and free his cock out of his briefs, you engulf most of his length as best as you can, tightening a grip on the few centimeters with one hand.

Taeyong cusses above you, moaning low as he combs your head back.

A ringtone erupts from below you and you fish out his phone out of his pants, handing it to him before resuming your previous act. “Answer it.”

He swallows hard as he obeys your request, not even giving the caller ID a glance before picking it up. “Hello?”

You watch him through your lashes, continuing to lick the underside of his cock.

“Wha-Calm down! I’ve made up mind! I’m not going to class and it’s way too late now.” He shouts into his phone, catching you by surprise.

You meant to pull away but his hand pushes you back down his cock, forcing the tip all the way to the back of your throat. You thank your ability to control your gag reflex and let yourself get used to the feeling; hollowing out your cheeks as he thrusts into your mouth.

“Shit, li-listen, I’m n-not going to beg Mr. Chon to let me back in class! I--what? So what if I’m with a girl-- I didn’t-- Prez, you’re being ridiculous!” He growls, pushing you away and kicking his pants completely off in anger. “You can’t just kick me off the team! I’m--”

You rise up from the floor, wiping the spit that dribbled down your chin. Warily, you watched Taeyong huff at his phone, ready to throw it to the ground but glances at you.

In a beat, he’s turning you around and pinning you against the back of an armchair; making quick work of your jeans and pushing them down your ankles with his foot once he got it past your knees.

“Did he threaten to kick you off the team?” You quietly ask, breathing rapidly as Taeyong cards his fingers through your pussy.

“He already has. He’s so abusive with his power! He was only elected president because he has connections to sponsors.” He grumbles behind you, “He also keeps reusing past choreo for new pieces! No one has the guts to call him out for it. I even made the fucking mistake of trying to befriend him because now I just get pushed around by him!”

You reach behind you to guide his cock into your pussy, “Let it out, Taeyong. If you’re really off the team, you’re not his lacke--”

You’re cut-off with a gasp as Taeyong surges forward, penetrating into you.

“I’m not his lackey!” He hisses, clawing your hips for support as he thrusts his hips repeatedly. “I’m the fucking vice president of the dance team!”

“What kind of president pushes around the VP like that then? Are you sure you were elected as vice president and not his lackey?”

“Stop calling me that!” He yells, snapping his hips harder into yours and eliciting a high shriek from you.

You bend over the armchair, grabbing at the pillows to anchor yourself against the force Taeyong was going at. You can feel your walls already accommodating his girth as they pushed in and out of you. Your lower abdomen tightens as your legs start to quiver in excitement; your orgasm is coming faster than you anticipated.

“T-Tae, I’m going to-- I’m really, really close--”

He grunts, moving you to the couch while still pounding into you. He only pulls you off of his dick to spin you around so you would be facing him and sits down, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers around your thighs to have you sit on his lap.

“You know,” He starts, guiding his cock back into your awaiting entrance, “That goddamn class is the reason why our president is so harsh on me. I was either going to practices late or leaving early to work on our stupid assignments.”

“Ugh, the root of all our problems is because of that goddamn class! It’s still unfair how we were transferred to Mr. Chon’s class.” You adjusted your legs so you could carry your weight as you begin to ride him.

“Don’t even mention that asshole! He keeps bragging about how he wrote scripts for indie films and how he was mentored by great, award-winning scriptwriters, but he never bothered actually teaching us shit.” He punctuates his complaint with a hard thrust upwards.

You moan out loud, dragging the sound until your head is situated on the crook of his neck. “Do that again.”

He obeys--multiple times; each with an insult towards your professor.

“Aah, I’m comi--!” Taeyong pulls you in for a kiss, drowning out your cries of pleasure as he holds your hips down for him to drive his cock into with a more calculated force.

You come with your toes curled and head thrown back in a silent cry while Taeyong thumbs furious circles over your clit and chases after his own high.

“In me, in me.” You chant, still shaking from your release.

Taeyong moans, “Shit, really?”

After confirming with a nod, he shoots his load into you; sensing immense warmth overcome your belly as you help him ride it out. When you take his cock out and proceed to sit back down on his lap, you can already feel it drip out of you.

“I can’t believe I got off for being so pissed.” Taeyong breathes, covering his eyes with his palm. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“Not at all.” You clamber off of him, dropping your weight to the space beside him. “I liked it and I guess… sort of needed it, too.”

He turns his head towards you and snorts, “We deserved it after that hell of an elective. We’ll be weakshits to those who stayed, but whatever, yeah?”

“I value my sanity, thank you.” You laugh and he joins you. “The only thing good that came out of this was you.”

Taeyong’s lips twitched into a smile, “Yeah. We wouldn’t have met if not for that damned class. If we didn’t help each other out with Chon’s assignments…”

“We would have died way earlier.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, but, uhm, no, not just that… what I mean is that I wouldn’t have gotten to know you and,”

You blink at him, “And?”

“I can’t do this with my dick out, [Y/N]. Hold on.”

“Your dick is fine--it’s amazing, in fact.” You grab his shoulders when he tried to get up, “Taeyong, I like you.”

Taeyong bursts out laughing, “We’re really confessing in the nude?”

“Think of it this way: if you feel the same way, it’s so much easier to get down to business.” You cock a brow at him and he shrugs with puckered lips.

“Then, I like you, too.” He says, twisting his torso to face you and dragging his thumb across your lower lip, “So, round two?”

Snorting, you cup his face and pull him in for a kiss, “How about we exclude shitty profs and abusive friends?”

Taeyong hoists you up in his arms, carrying you so that either of your legs were secured over his hips. He starts to walk away from the couch, grinning at you as you squealed in surprise at his action, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

-

a/n: this feels so rushed because of my internet situation ;A;

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Do you think Fred would ever call Alec dad?

Ooooh… that’s an interesting question.  Maybe?  But more as a teenager/young adult versus a kid.  Actually, you just inspired a little ficlet…

*trudges back from the word mines with a much heavier bag than expected*  Not sure ‘ficlet’s the right word here anymore…  Enjoy?

Hardy looked up at the knock on his office door, surprisedbut pleased to see his stepson instead of another junior officer with a trivialcomplaint, as he seemed to get constantly now that he was the chief.

“Fred!  Come in, comein.”

The teenager slunk through the door, an unsure expression onhis face.  “I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Nonsense, you’re fine.” He took a moment as the boy settled to close the file folders on his deskbefore joining him on the sofa.  “Whatbrings you by?  Everything all right?”

“Yeah.”  Fred refusedto meet his eye though, clutching his backpack for dear life, and Hardyfrowned, watching him.  Between the threekids, Fred was by far the easiest to deal with as a ‘teenager’.  Not having had a traumatic divorce happen inhis early teens like Tom and Daisy helped. Typically easy going and lively, the shy young man in front of him was amarked contrast from even the night before, and a heavy weight settled in Hardy’sstomach.

Checking his watch and seeing he had plenty of time, hedecided to wait Fred out.  Consciouslyrelaxing his pose, he did his best to be unthreatening and un-cop-like, morelike a safe space for him to share.

After a solid five minutes, Fred finally raised his headenough to stare just past Hardy’s left ear. “So, how’s your day going?”

“Good, good.  Your mummade an arrest about an hour ago, so it’ll probably be just us for dinner.”

“Pizza?” he asked hopefully, and Hardy hid a grimace at theidea and nodded.

“If you like.”

They fell silent again long enough for Hardy to saycarefully, “You know, you can tell meanything.”

Fred nodded, staring down at his backpack.  “A new kid started in school today.  Family just moved to town.”

“Oh?  What’s theirname?”

“Jake.”

“Did you want to invite him round for football or videogames or something?  Cause that’s fine,so long as you give us proper warning.” Hardy didn’t think that was it, but sometimes you got more informationwith misdirection being automatically corrected rather than flat out questions.

“We were talking about our families,” Fred mumbled.  “His dad’s an electrician, mum’s a teacher.”  He was playing with the straps of hisbackpack, a long-held nervous habit that told Hardy they were close to thetruth.

“That’s nice.”

“I told him my parents were cops.”  It was said with the gravitas of arevelation, though no lightbulb came on for Hardy.

“Well, it’s true,” he considered in confusion, stillwatching carefully, “though perhaps a bit of an understatement.”

Fred’s head popped up, staring at him in disbelief as thoughhe’d missed something egregious.  “Didn’tyou hear me?  I said my parents were cops.  Parents. Plural.”

Enlightenment slowly dawned on him, his heart sinking.  “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Fred blurted, now eager to explain with theconfession off his chest.  “It justslipped out.  I tried to fix it but thenthe bell rang and I didn’t see him again and his parents will be at the back toschool night tomorrow and they might say something and I didn’t want you to beoffended or anything.”

“Wait, what? Offended?  Why?”  Whatever reaction Hardy was expecting, itwasn’t that.

“You’re not my dad.”

This was an indisputable fact.  Fred had been a year old the first time Hardyhad moved to Broadchurch, almost seven when he and Miller had finally starteddating.  Yet the words still felt like a blowto his heart, more painful than any episode he’d ever had before thepacemaker.  “Right.”

“It’s just you’re alwaysthere, and Joe never is, much less mentioned like Mark’s around for Lizzie, andsometimes it’s just easier to think of you that way, as my parent, but I didn’tmean to say it.  Please don’t be mad.”

Hardy’s brow furrowed as he tried to follow the madramble.  “Hang on, let’s stop for asecond.  To clarify, you accidentally talkedabout me to your new friend like I’m your dad?”

The teenager nodded slowly, a fearful expression still verypresent on his face.  At this rate, thestrap of his backpack would be nothing but string.

“Fred… I’m not offended,” he started carefully.  “I don’t mind if you think of me as yourparent, or dad, or whatever – actually, I’m honored.  But you don’t seem happy with that.”

Confusion overtook the fear in Fred’s eyes, back slowly unhunching.  “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

“Of course not!” Hardy leaned forward, putting his hand on top of Fred’s and stilling hisnervous twitches.  “Fred, of course not.  I just- you were ten when we married, I didn’tthink… I mean, I consider you my child, but I thought you wouldn’t- I’m sorry,”he gave up trying to make sense, sighing. “I didn’t think you thought of me that way, or would want to.  Especially since Tom made it very clear he didn’t, though I don’t blame him in theleast.”

“So… it’s okay, then? That I basically said you were my dad?”

“Yes,” Hardy said firmly. “Absolutely.”

Fred nearly melted from relief, sagging back against thecouch.  “Thank fuck.”

“Fred.”

“Oh come on,” he grumbled, suddenly looking like his normalself again.  “You and Mum curse all thetime.”

Hardy merely gave him a stern look, unable to deny it.  He wasn’t too bad unless furious, but especiallynow that Fred was older Ellie was much freer with the language she used.

“Fine,” Fred rolled his eyes, his heavy sigh incongruouswith his teasing smirk.  “Dad.”

A smile spread on Hardy’s face before he could stop it.  “Thanks, son.”

After a moment they started snickering, and it was justsettling down when his door opened again.

“Hey, did you happen to bring- Fred!  What a lovely surprise,” Ellie beamed, herexhaustion seemingly melted away.  “Whatbrings you by?  Were you waiting for me?”

“Hi, Mum,” Fred rose to give her a brief hug and submit to acheek kiss.  “I needed to talk to… him,actually.”

Hardy heard the hesitation even if Ellie didn’t, saw thenervous look in Fred’s eye and smiled at him. “Don’t fret Miller, just having a father-son chat is all.”

That sparked a round of cooing and hugging, the men sharingfond eyerolls as she fussed over them.

To an outsider walking by, they looked just like what theyfinally were – a real family.

[fastfoodessay609]

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In new normal, all schools will shift to online classes. This type of learning is very new and to all students who have shifted from traditional face-to-face learning to online learning. In my experience I have learned about the advantage and disadvantages of online class.

One of the best advantage of online class is flexibility. I can usually do my activities any time during the day or week. There are assignments and requirements to complete and the precise time to take the class often depends on my desire. One of the best advantage of online class are also I can simply open websites to get answers for my activities unlike from traditional classes we have to use what we learned from the discussion.

Apart from the advantages there are also disadvantages. First of all is the complete lacking of supervision. Students in face to face can be supervised by their teachers to motivate them from finishing their activities online. There might be also deadlines and expectations from online classes but there will be no one to remind me to the assignments or quizzes.

But the most annoying and the real deal of online class is the tendency to procrastination. I’m in my comfort zone and doing things like assignments and requirements makes me lazy which is a bad habit for a college student like me. I can’t focus also because there will be no one to supervise me when I’m browsing my social accounts.

I believe also that face to face learning is more effective than online but not for those who are easily distracted. Some students wants a comfortable and quiet place to study then online class is for them. It is said that online class is a good way to absorbing knowledge since we can concentrate and no distraction around us, but as for me, there are more distractions in online than in traditional classroom. In online we our social accounts to distract us, once we put our hand to our mobile phone it will automatically go browsing in facebook or Instagram. We also have this online games which is more addicting than our social accounts and new movies from Netflix that we have been waiting to watch. Other than social media distractions we also have chores and responsibility at home. This is the ultimate distraction for me, I can’t focus to anything if I knew I didn’t cook for breakfast, lunch or dinner.

My day to day online class is waking up earlier than five o’clock in the morning. It is the time to cook for the family and eat breakfast. We start our classes around seven thirty every day until Saturday. We exchange responses from our teacher for our attendance and look for our activities in canvas. Every class have two hours and thirty minutes before the next subject so we have plenty of time to the required activities. The good thing about is we are attending two subjects only per day. So the hours spended everyday are five hours equivalent to half days.

In my three months of online learning I have experience how to do things independently. Before, I can easily ask for advices and help from my classmates, but now I have to depend only to my own knowledge. We have teachers to ask but some teachers are hard to approach maybe because they in trouble also because of this online class. So I needed to depend on what I know and what I find in google. I’m also a student who depend on my phone so much, I don’t have the proper gadget for online classes like strong wifi and computers or laptops. It is a good thing that phone now a days are very flexible that you can download files and type your activities in here but the problem is the small space. A mobile phone can’t contain all the big file and application needed for online class. And it’s a good thing that I have a friend who has a complete gadgets which I can ask for favor to transfer my assignments into a file before submitting it to the teachers.

My place is also far from town and wifi are not available here so the only thing I’m using is my mobile data. I have to spend hundreds for a load good for 30 days, so I can continuously connect to our class. There are also activities relation to videos which I love. I enjoyed the vlogging we made and I’m happy that my phone could produce a not great but a proper video to pass.

From this online class I have realized a lot of things. In traditional classroom I’m a quiet and shy person and hard find a way to interact with my classmate. Though we are not very close, we are still a family who got each other’s back. No competitions and no hard feelings. We put efforts to make our teachers proud and bring the best out of us. From this online class I am missing their presence and their fighting spirit which motivates me in moving forward to my studies. I miss the loughs and the conversation with the teachers that makes us lough. I miss the terrifying feeling when a teacher is scrolling our index cards, I miss hanging out with my friends after exams, and I miss saying greeting to every teachers I encounter.

There are a lot of things to do and I promise that after quarantine or when everything falls back to normal. I would do all the things I used to do before. I will be more grateful of what I have and what is in the present. I will do all the things I’m missing and enjoy every bit and every hour of the day. I will be closer to my classmates and spend time with my friends and eat all the food I’m craving during this quarantine and I won’t let a day pass by without enjoying.

[project-ml]

Project: Scrapbook — Horrificator (Part One)

Project: Scrapbook Masterpost (tbp)

Comic By: @daughterofthestars08 (lineart) & @artgraveyard (lineart and color) & @chalala-chan (color) 

Written By: @purr-cat-stinate & @mimosaeyes

Beta’d By: @miraculousandcute & @emeralddrop

Summary: N/A

Words: 5671

Despite the chilly season, the sun was already gracing the citizens of Paris with its warm rays of sunlight that poured from the clouds down onto the earth. It was a lovely day, perfect for picnics, and walks in the park. It was a lovely day to discover something new; or perhaps to create something new.

Nino Lahiffe was bouncing in his seat, earphones around his neck, and fingers drumming against the desktop impatiently. Of all the days his best friend had to show up late, it would be today. OK… technically Nino was early, but how could he help it! Apricot eyes wandered to his bag, and a grin stretched out across his face for the millionth time this sweet, sunny morning. It had been nearly impossible for him to sleep last night - and as soon as his alarm went off in the morning he was ten feet out the door (that is, until his mother grabbed him by the arm and had him sit down for some breakfast).

His brain was going a million miles an hour, and it seemed the impatient tapping was his body’s way of letting out the energy in a somewhat subdued manner. The excitement was eating away at him. He had to tell someone before he exploded… but of course, for some reason Adrien wouldn’t answer his phone last night - and Alya was busy chasing Ladybug and Chat Noir as they defeated another akuma. Oh! Nino’s eyes widened, and he quickly took the flyer out of his bag. It was crumpled, and had a water stain on it, but it was brand new in Nino’s eyes.

The flyer read: Short Film Contest for interested youth! Create your own twenty-five minute short film, and submit it to Mayor Bourgeois. It can be anything you’d like, romance, action, or comedy! The winner will receive ninety-five euros as well as your short being shown on television. Good Luck!

Sure - he didn’t really have an idea yet, or a script, or well… anything… but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a chance! Nino was sure he’d be able to direct the best short film ever - and he could even make an awesome soundtrack for it. This was totally his chance to rise up as a performer and a director! Not to mention he had Paris’ favorite teenage model on his side.

It took five dreadful minutes before Alya walked into class, a trail of tiredness on her face from her journalism adventures of the night before. She gave Nino a quick greeting as she slipped into her seat, stretching her arms as she sat. Nino turned in his seat, wanting to ask if she has heard of the short film contest, considering she was usually in the loop with… well, everything. However, Alya beat him to the punch as she leaned forward, looking more awake than before now, and she gave him a proper good morning.

“Morning Nino- so did you see the Ladyblog last night? I got some pretty crazy shots.”

Nino wavered, he last time he checked the Ladyblog was yesterday afternoon, because after that he found the flyer in the mail and got distracted with the idea of a short film. It didn’t seem to matter though, because Alya showed him her phone anyway, urging him to watch the clips she had gotten.

After a few clips of Ladybug saving Paris, Adrien walked in - looking even more tired than Alya did if that was possible - and that’s when Nino remembered the flyer that sat on his desk. His blond friend groggily gave a “G’ Morning…” as he sat in his seat. Nino wasted no time in shaking his half-asleep friend by the shoulders, shocking him in the process.

“Dude! I have to show you this-” Nino shoved the flyer into Adrien’s face, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“What is it?” Alya asked, trying to peer over to get a glimpse of the crumpled flyer now in Adrien’s hands. It was Nino who responded.

“It’s a short film contest! Whoever makes the best twenty-five minute movie wins money and their short gets run on tv!”

Alya blinked in surprise, a grin forming on her face. “No way, that sounds awesome!”

“Right! And I’m going to win it”- Nino threw an arm around Adrien’s shoulders- “because I have a secret weapon.”

The blond blinked. “What?” he stammered, then did a double take in realization. “Me?”

The director-to-be nodded, grin unwavering.

“Er... I don’t know, I haven’t really done any acting-” Nino quickly cut of his friend with a dismiss wave of his hand,

“Please, you don’t have to. Lights, cameras, action - it can’t be too different from modeling right? And you totally owe me dude! For ditching me like every time we plan to hang out.”

Adrien grinned sheepishly and held up his hands in a conciliatory way. “Alright, okay- I’ll do it.”

A sigh of relief left Nino, before he took back the flyer and smoothed it out. His apricot eyes reread the flyer, his excitement resurfacing once more.

“I’ll totally help you too, if you’d like - I can even get Marinette to help too.” Nino smiled at Alya, who leaned forward, chin on her hand, as she watched the two’s interaction.

“That’d be awesome, thanks!”

Just then Marinette stumbled through the door, drawing her friends’ attention momentarily. Her hair was unkempt, and she was completely out of breath.

“Geez, girl, you barely made it here on time.” Alya’s sea green eyes followed her friend as she nervously gave a morning to Adrien and Nino, before plopping in her seat next to the journalist.

“I know, I woke up late - again.”

Alya snickered, expecting as much.

“Of course you did. Hey, but guess what Marinette; Nino’s making a short film and I volunteered us to help him.”

Well, that seemed to wake her up. “Wait - what?”

Nino handed Marinette the flyer. “The winner gets a cash prize and a TV showing!” The more people he told about the competition, the more the excitement bubbled up in his chest.

The short girl looked between the two. “I don’t know anything about making a movie though.”

Adrien smiled. “Me neither, but I kind of owe Nino.”

Alya watched with a sly smirk as the gears in Marinette’s head clicked together. A warm blush quickly spread across her face.

“I-I’ll do w-what I can!”

Alya and Nino shared a knowing look with one another, a matching expression on their face.

“Oh, you’re doing the short film contest?” A loud voice cut into the group’s conversation from the side, the whole classes eyes quickly turned to it’s source.

Not surprisingly, there stood Chloe Bourgeois with Sabrina behind her, both wearing a matching expression of mockery.

Nino looked over to the blonde who stood with her hands on her hips and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her all mighty attitude. “Chloe.”

“Hmph, puh-lease, you’ll never be able to win the contest.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

The blonde huffed, her arms crossing over her chest. “My daddy is the judge of the contest, in case you didn’t read the flyer. Without me, you’ll never win it.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Why would you want to join us?”

Chloe scoffed, almost like she was offended to be asked the question. Sabrina mimicked the sound, crossing her own arms over her chest to be the mirroring expression of Chloe.

“Be-cause, Adrien is going to be with you right? If you add my good looks and popularity with his, it’s a for-sure win.”

Marinette huffed quietly, and Alya opened her mouth- ready to kick the princess off her high horse- when Chloe quickly started again.

“If you don’t let me join - I’ll make sure your stupid little film doesn’t even get glanced at.”

Nino gaped at the blonde in front of him. Rich people were so self-serving. Nino was the last person who wanted to feed into Chloe’s wishes, yet if he didn’t she would sabotage his film!

“Chloe-” Adrien shot his old friend a look of outrage and disbelief, but she shut down all his arguments with a resolute coldness.

“Fine, you can join us. Whatever - just, like, don’t screw anything up.” Nino sighed in defeat, not wanting the blonde to suck the excitement out of the project.

“Moi? I never screw anything up.”

The four mumbled their own disbelief of that, but Chloe chose to not hear them.

“Hey did you guys say you're doing a short film?” Alix couldn’t help but lean over, interested. “I could help you out if you need anything - like I could be the person that holds that ‘take’ thing. I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Alya shot Nino a look, which he returned with a grin.

“Yeah - that’d be awesome. The more the merrier.”

On the other side of the classroom, Juleka and Rose had been listening idly to the conversation, unable to tune out any classroom confrontation. At Nino’s words, they leaned forward in their seats to enter the discussion. Rose’s eyes were gleaming with excitement.

“What about me and Juleka? Could we help? I have a tea collection at home I could bring!”

The taller girl mumbled something, but only “scary movie expertise” was really audible.

“Er- Yeah! That’d be great.”

Within seconds nearly the whole class had dropped into the conversation and began offering help. The excitement Nino felt this morning resurfaced, threatening to overflow his heart. Surely with so many people helping to work on the short film, it would be a success! Nino spared a look over to Chloe, who filed her nails as she chatted loudly to Sabrina about how her diamond earrings kept getting stuck in her ear. Not even she could ruin the project if the whole class was working to make it great.

Just as everyone was starting to chatter away about their roles in what had quickly become a class project, though, Ms. Bustier walked into the class, calling for their attention. Nino quickly sat back in his seat, but not before telling everyone to meet in the classroom after school. His classmates dispersed back into their seats, all whispering excitedly about the new movie project.

The director-to-be began putting the flyer away as Ms. Bustier called for attendance. His mind was anywhere but at his teacher’s lecture at the moment; instead, he was thinking of all the ways they could make a short film. Should it be sad? What about funny? Did he want comedy or maybe something more serious… or perhaps an action movie?

Nino’s apricot eyes sparkled at the idea. An action movie sure sounded like fun, maybe with adventure and slight romance?

“Nino!”

The boy jumped in his seat at the sound of Ms. Bustier's voice.

“Y-Yes?”

The teacher sighed, “Please pay attention when you hear your name being called.”

“My bad - sorry du - uh ma’am.”

Nino let out a sigh as she went on calling the names of the other students. Adrien gave him a reassuring arm nudge, to which the boy gave a quick smile before leaning his head on his hand. Hopefully his ideas could wait until after school.

It was wishful thinking. Nino spent all of the school day with his mind on the short film. He tugged the increasingly careworn flyer out of his bag at odd intervals, unwittingly giving Alya much fodder for teasing him about the lovelorn expression on his face. The margins of his notebook were also entirely given up to scribbling random ideas that popped into his head throughout the day, from lines of cool dialogue to sketches of how he would set up each scene.

By the time the last bell rang and everyone began gathering again around his desk, Nino practically had a sales pitch in mind for the plot of his short film. He cleared his throat as he flipped open his notebook, quickly organizing his thoughts.

He surveyed his classmates and noticed to his dismay that Rose and Juleka both had their backpacks slung over their shoulders already.

“Rose, Juleka, aren’t you staying to hear my awesome plan?”

“I have to rush home to get my makeup set. I need to make sure I have everything we’ll need,” Juleka replied.

Rose chimed in, “And I should get refreshments for everyone pronto! We can’t work if we’re all tired out from school.”

They both made good points, but surely everyone needed to be on the same page if they were going to work as a team, right? Nino opened his mouth to say as much, but before he could speak a word, his classmates had started drifting out the door.

Alix went off to get the clap-board she had at home, Max to fetch his shiny new stopwatch, guaranteed to ensure efficient timekeeping, and Kim to borrow a boom mic from Theo, his friend and occasional DJ. Finally, Nathanael muttered something about art supplies and fell into step beside them.

Alya glanced at Nino’s expression and promptly intervened before they totally lost control of the film making process. “The rest of you can stay, right? We can catch the others up on what we discuss now, but we should make sure we’re all agreed first.”

There was general agreement, even from Chloe, who deigned to let her arms fall from where they had been crossed over her chest. Nino sent Alya a brief look of gratitude.

“I was thinking something like an action movie.” Nino’s eyes shone. “The main character is an agent for this top-secret organisation, who fights bad guys and is totally badass. They could be code named something ordinary, because their identity has to be a secret. Say, Agent Smith.”

“Ooh, or we could have just one bad guy in particular for two agents to work together to defeat,” Alya jumped in.

“Well, not just any garden variety bad guy,” Adrien piped up unexpectedly from beside Nino. When everyone turned to look at him, he seemed taken aback at the attention and hurried to elaborate. “Parisians are used to seeing crazy akuma villains, so if you want to make the action sequences intense, it should be a monster.”

Marinette quickly responded, “Yeah, that sounds great! I’ll text Nathanael to ask if he has materials to make a monster mask with.”

“Good stuff, good stuff,” Nino muttered thoughtfully, adding the new input to his notes. He tapped his pencil against his notebook. “What if the two agents were in love?”

“Nino, no.” Alya’s face set into a resolute expression.

“But every good action movie has a romantic subplot-”

“That is so not true-”

“-and how great would the ending be if, like, one of the agents was in life-threatening trouble, and then the other one saved them, and then they fall in love?”

“There will be no sappy love stories on my watch!” Alya exclaimed.

The two had a bit of a face-off, narrowing their eyes at each other, until Marinette, reading her text message conversation with Nathanael off her phone, hesitantly distracted them from their bickering.

“Um, Nath asks if Agent Smith needs a cape. Personally, I don’t think so, but what do you guys think?”

Nino broke his long glare with Alya to glance at Marinette. “Aw, why not?”

Adrien leaned back in his seat to gaze up at their raven-haired classmate, and she blushed slightly under his scrutiny. “I was just thinking that capes are really bad for moving around in. A secret agent would wear something combat-ready, more tight-fitting…”

“Like Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Alya said in agreement, nodding her head. A quick peculiar gleam shined in her eyes and she scrunched her face up into a disapproving gesture. “No capes!” she declared, in an impeccable impersonation of Edna Mode.

“It’s been ages since I’ve heard anyone make a reference to The Incredibles,” Mylene giggled from the other side of the table. She had been quiet up to that point.

“Speaking of movies and references,” Sabrina cut in, “maybe we need to do some research before we get into writing the script. I could help you with that, Alya.”

Alya was just leaning over to peer at Nino’s notes. “Oh, I think we’ve already got plenty to work with, Sabrina,” she replied absently. “Maybe you could ask Juleka if she needs any help when she gets back.”

Sabrina withdrew slightly behind Chloe, feeling a bit down as she was unable to help.

“Maybe we could decide on some roles first, and then split up and work on it separately?” Nino suggested, trying to sound directorial and authoritative.

“Well, Adrien’s already been cast, and I bet Marinette would make a great Agent Smith…” Alya suggested, giving her best friend a sly look.

Marinette flushed. “N-no, Alya! You’re the one who’s always wanted to be a superhero and say cool one-liners, like - like looking right at the monster and saying, ‘I’m not afraid!’”

Adrien gave a low whistle. “That’s a great line, Marinette! We could build Agent Smith’s character arc around that.”

“Th-thanks, Adrien.”

“Yeah, Adrien, thanks! Character arcs, now we’re talking!” Alya reached out and grabbed hold of Nino’s notebook, whipping out a pen and beginning to draft a plot structure for the film.

Chloe had been watching them all with an air of mild disdain. At a moment’s pause in the discussion, while Marinette looked bashful and Alya and Nino were bickering again over the notebook, she looked directly at Adrien, fluttering her eyelashes. “Well, if we need a lead actress to work opposite Adrien, surely I’m the best candidate,” she declared.

Alya and Nino paused in their squabbling, both of them clutching the notebook. They shared a look of total agreement. “So… anyone else?”

“What about Mylene?” Ivan said quietly.

Chloe huffed, giving her classmate a skeptical once-over.

“M-me?” Mylene stammered, surprised to find everyone’s attention suddenly on her.

Alya leveled a considering gaze over her usually timid classmate. “Yeah, I can see you as Agent Smith, or what we have about her so far,” she mused. “And isn’t your dad kind of like an actor? Maybe it’s a skill that rubs off!”

Everyone started nodding thoughtfully at that. Only Chloe was against it, beginning to seethe. “Her?! She’s so small and timid, what about me! I can actually string a sentence together without stammering.”

Mylene had unconsciously stood a little straighter at her classmates’ approval, but sagged again at Chloe’s contention. “She’s right... isn’t Agent Smith supposed to fight a monster? I don’t think I would be able to.”

Ivan and Alya chimed in at the same time: “Mylene, no, you’ll be fantastic!” “It’s just pretend anyway, no need to worry.”

Nino nodded along and then said, “Alright, I’ll put Mylene down as Agent Smith, and Adrien down as… Officer Jones. They’re the closest thing we have to professional actors. Now, who’s going to be the monster?”

Chloe gave a snort. “That’s not going to be a problem. Ivan wouldn’t even have to act – he’s already been a monster.”

“Chloe!” Adrien protested, furrowing his brow at his old friend, who merely shrugged.

“It’s okay,” Ivan cut in unexpectedly. “If Mylene knows it’s just me in the mask, maybe she won’t be as scared.”

“Speaking of masks!” Uncharacteristically excited, Nathanael had returned holding a large armful of art supplies from his house, ready to make the monster mask and anything else they would need. Trailing behind him were their other classmates with the materials they had each fetched from home. Rose began setting up a refreshments table at her desk. Alix and Kim were in charge of technical production affairs, and stuck to Max’s side as he set his fancy stopwatch to warn them at regular intervals. Finally, Juleka approached with various makeup items, which she promptly dumped all over Nino’s table.

“So I have some DIY ooze if we want to make monster goo or something, also fake blood – that’ll come in handy – oh, and I picture Agent Smith as a weathered, really experienced type, so maybe a scar over one eye to add some mystery and cool factor? I can work on backstory, I have so many ideas…” The normally hushed girl spoke without taking a breath, though her voice was still muttered, she rapidly continued with makeup terms no one really understood.

Nino blinked. Alya stared.

“Girl, it’s a short film.”

“Just stick to powder or something,” Nino said hastily, using his entire forearm to nudge Juleka’s unexpectedly substantial supplies to one side. “Or er- foundation, is that what it’s called? You know, just make our actors look good.”

Juleka pursed her lips and, gathering up her belongings, sulked off to Rose’s table. Nino could almost have sworn he heard her muttering, “I will be the powder master, you fools,” under her breath.

“Can Agent Smith have a dog?” Rose suggested sweetly.

Alix snorted despite herself. “When does a secret agent have time for a dog?”

The smile on her classmate’s face wilted slightly. “I just think it would be cute.”

Max glanced up from his stopwatch and pushed up his glasses. “Rose,” he started, trying to be gentle, “we don’t even have a dog.”

Rose’s face grew more crestfallen. It made Alix squirm, and rush to say, “We could always… pretend there was a dog. Who, um, died. But it was - it was so cute.”

Juleka gave a contented smirk despite her powder dilemma, seeing Rose light up again. “Hey,” she said, nudging Rose to remind her of their inside joke, “we could call the dog Mr. Sniffles.”

Neither of them bothered to explain the context to their classmates.

“This is perfect for Agent Smith’s character development, though,” Alya muttered, scribbling away indiscriminately at Nino’s notebook, which the he had finally surrendered. “After losing her beloved pet - Mr. Sniffles - Agent Smith vows to have her revenge!”

“What,” Kim finally interrupted, still clueless as to the plot. Nino began explaining it in earnest as Alya buckled down and began drafting the script, with Marinette peering over her shoulder all the while.

Nathanael tapped Marinette on the shoulder, drawing her attention away from Alya’s script writing. He shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, holding out his sketch pad to her. “So I was thinking of this design for the monster mask,” he announced, all in a rush. “It would be sewn together, see, kind of stylistically?”

She nodded eagerly, looking over the clear lines of his steady artist’s hand. “It looks amazing, Nath.”

The boy flushed almost as red as his hair. “Would you happen to have any scrap fabric at home? I know you design clothes and all…”

Juleka leaned over to peer at the design. “Are you going for like a Saw reference at all?”

He blinked at her in surprise. Secretly, he had rehearsed talking to Marinette, but wasn’t expecting someone to drop in on the conversation with his secret crush.

“Um, I don’t know what that is,” he confessed.

Juleka looked mildly horrified. “You need a horror movie consultant,” she proclaimed, and then proceeded to dragged him away to make modifications to the mask’s design.

Meanwhile, Ivan and Adrien were standing in one corner of the classroom with Mylene, letting her practice some frightened expressions, then some determined looks. They praised her and gave her constructive feedback, which she received with a look of tentative pride in her newfound thespian prowess.

Sabrina interrupted Juleka and Nathanael’s designing. “Hey, Juleka, um… I know a lot about makeup, maybe I could…?”

Absorbed in the sketch pad, Juleka barely looked up and only faintly sounded resentful as she replied, “Oh, we only need to powder the actors, apparently, so I don’t need any help with that.”

It was Nathanael who noticed the look of disappointment on Sabrina’s face. “You’re good with research and computers and stuff, aren’t you?” he inquired hesitantly. He didn’t usually speak to Sabrina much; she was nice enough, but her allegiance with Chloe meant she was often accomplice to various mean things the other girl did to their classmates.

Sabrina nodded earnestly.

“Well, you could go to the library and type up the pages that Alya is coming up with. She may be a good writer, but her handwriting isn’t too great, and we’ll need multiple copies for everyone to refer to.”

The redhead was rewarded for his effort by the look of sheer joy on Sabrina’s face. It was the perfect task for her. She ran off to talk to Alya, and Nathanael turned back to his designs.

Nino watched them all with a look of approval, then cast around the rest of the room. Alix and Kim were already bickering, unable to coordinate the clap-board with the boom mic, and totally forgetting about issues of lighting. Sighing, Nino went over to break it up and remind them of all technical aspects of film making. He would handle the soundtrack himself, of course, but amateur gaffing and blocking were all tasks they had to keep in mind. He couldn’t be micro-managing; it wasn’t good for team spirit, and wasn’t his style anyway.

“Fine, Mum,” Alix drawled at him as he walked away from the resolved confrontation, and he gave a good-natured grin in return.

Was this what it meant to be a director?

By the time Nino had made one round of the room, he was assured that the class as a whole was bumbling along and making steady, if uncertain, progress. He returned to the back row, where Max was sitting alone for the moment, waiting with his stopwatch.

Max touched his arm. “Hey, Nino, when is the deadline for the film anyway?”

“Well that’s easy enough to answer, it’s…” Nino hesitated and pulled out his flyer, scanning it for the information he needed.

His eyes widened. Max probably knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth from the sheer panic on his face, but Nino said it anyway, loud enough for everyone to hear. “OH MY GOD- IT’S DUE TOMORROW. Move it, people move it! Meet back here in twenty minutes with everything set up, every prop made!”

Within the minute everyone was rushing about trying to get it all done.

Alix and Kim fell into a team rhythm as they set up for the filming- much to Nino’s relief. Rose got all her refreshments in order by name, and helped to organised all of Juleka’s makeup kit so that no stray brushes ended up in the background of a scene. Marinette and Nathanael, meanwhile, made a run for the scrap fabric back in her bedroom and presumably used her sewing machine so as to finish the mask quicker.

In the chaos, Nino grabbed hold of Sabrina as she dashed out of the classroom with an armful of Alya’s script to be transcribed and printed in bulk for everyone’s reference.

“There’s this one last minute change, okay Sabrina? Just add it in,” he muttered under his breath, slipping her a post-it note discreetly.

“Why are you whispering?” she demanded, eyes widening.

Nino’s gaze flicked over to Alya, who was gathering her pens and shooing everyone away from the front of the classroom, where they would shoot the first scene.

Sabrina had read the post-it note before Nino could reply. “Wait, you wrote in a kiss between Agent Smith and Officer Jones! You’re changing the script!”

“Not so loud!” Nino hissed, mortally terrified that Alya would hear. “You can’t tell her, alright, just make the change and print it out, then it’ll be official.”

Sabrina looked dubious. Conspiratorially, Nino leaned in and looked right at her intently. “It needs this, alright? Trust me.” He patted her on the shoulder. “I trust you to make the right choice. Think of all the greats. Steven Spielberg-style. Everyone puts in a little romance.”

Sabrina hesitated only a moment longer, then looked determined. “Okay,” she declared, hitching together all the papers in her arms. “Leave it to me.”

She scurried off, imbued with a greater sense of purpose than she’d had all afternoon.

The time flew by in a blur. Max announced it every time another five minutes had passed, keeping everyone in a flurry of activity. Chloe spent the twenty minutes whining about how slow everyone was, even as she herself merely perched atop a table, preening in the hope that they would all see the error of their ways and make her lead actress after all. Despite Ivan’s continued assurances, Mylene started to have a mini nervous breakdown as the time for her big acting debut approached. They were all fraying a little in the rush.

Still, at the end of Nino’s twenty minute deadline, Nathanael and Marinette had miraculously reappeared with a killer mask that satisfied Juleka and fit Ivan’s head perfectly. And Sabrina had come back, fingers shaking slightly from excitement and exertion, having typed up the entire script speedily and printed out enough copies of it in the school library for everyone to use.

Max flipped through his copy quickly, scanning through it and musing, “Agent Smith is kind of like John Wick, is that okay? That movie was really kind of violent.”

Alya got defensive. “It’s different enough not to be plagiarism, plus we don’t even have a dog. And John Wick is like a dog superhero, fighting all those goons to avenge his pooch.”

“OK, PEOPLE, PLACES.” Nino interrupted, and then added in an aside to Marinette, “I always wanted to say that.”

The first try was an utter disaster. Mylene nervously stumbled through her lines, obviously reading from cards that Rose helpfully held up.  Adrien fared no better, missing his cue after Mylene’s line- leaving quite the long pause of awkward silence. That, and Kim sneezed about three times.

Alya sat at the desk, looking like she was trying to suppress a cringe, before casting a glance to Nino. The two shared a look of wariness.

“Cut- cut!” The up-starting director clapped his hands together, bringing the attention of his classmates to him. “Mylene, I know this is new to you, but you gotta sound more confident! And Adrien, bro, you gotta hit the mark with your lines.” Another sneeze came from Kim, who rubbed at his nose tiredly. Nino looked over to the athlete, “And Kim stop sneezing so much, dude.”

The three mumbled their own different responses, and thus everyone repositioned for take two.

Then a take three.

A take four.

Take five.

“DUDE!” Nino nearly ripped his copy of the script in half. “Do you have allergies or something?”

Kim rubbed his nose hastily, “Not that I know of... it’s just the light, man. Makes me sneeze when I look at it.”

Alix deadpanned, “Then don’t look at the light.”

“It’s hard when you keep moving it right into my eyes!”

“That’s where the shot is!”

“Hey, you guys!” The duo’s quarrel concluded and Nino once again stepped forward. “Kim, why don’t you go stand next to Alix that way you can get the sound and won’t keep sneezing.”

The athlete muttered an ‘okay, mom’ under his breath before begrudgingly standing next to the roller-blader.

Max checked his watch. “We currently have until tomorrow evening when this is due, which leaves us seven hours of daylight-”

Nino quickly clapped his hands together. “You heard the man! Let's get rolling!”

The scene was finally going smoothly, and Mylene was monologuing her ‘tragic past’ of losing her best friend, Mr. Sniffles, as she held a paper cut-out of a dog. With practice, the class got better moving around each other, quickly repositioning and setting up for the next scenes.

Jukela zoomed right up to Adrien the first opening she got, a makeup brush and powder in hand. Mylene went over to Ivan and Marinette, who continued giving her constant reassurance. Alix, Kim, Max, Rose and Sabrina changed the positioning of the equipment and made paper props with the help of Alya and Nino’s guidance; and Nathanael… well, he continued to make changes on the monster's mask, taking off certain embellishments and painting different colors on the hair.

The director barely spotted the artist hunched over the mask.

“Nathanael!” The boy looked up in shock, his eyes meeting Nino’s. “Dude, why are you still adding on details? Stop changing the mask!”

Nathanael looked down at a sticky note that he had pressed on the desk he was working on and looked back up at Nino with a frantic expression. “B-But… Juleka gave me all these references from horror movies. So many influences!”

Alya pulled the mask away from the artist. “It’s fine the way it is- plus, we don’t have time for it to dry.”

Seeing the boy deflate, Marinette gave him a comforting smile. “Hey, but it looks really good as it is!”

The storm continued, more scenes being shot with random bits of silence and sudden ‘CUT’s being yelled out. Everyone continued to do their best to avoid creating a problem except for Chloe, who may or may not have been flipping through the script and making random critiques.

About an hour in, Rose found her perfume bottle in her bag, and she sprayed a bit for Juleka to smell it as the scene was going. The raven-haired girl gave her a silent smile, nodding her head in approval to the sweet smell. The short blonde hair girl beamed brightly, spraying a bit more... and then a bit more- and then even some more.

Eventually the smell had worked it’s way to director Nino’s nose- as well as everyone else's- and suddenly their semi-organized production turned into a bunch of teenagers coughing and trying to air out the overwhelming perfume scent out of the room.

“Rose-” Nino gentle put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, who admittedly looked pretty horrified at what her perfume had done- “While I agree your perfume smells really nice, please, I beg you to stop spraying it.”

“S-sorry! I’ll make some tea for everyone, to make up for it!”

[builder051]

Mike & Co Introductory Story (OC sickfic)

Alright, here’s the intro story for Mike, Jason, and Colby (well, it’s a story about Mike, with cameos from Jason and Colby).  It’s the only story I have planned for them so far, so once you read this, feel free to send requests for any/all of these guys.

Trigger warnings: a little bit of eating disorder thought process, but no descriptions of ED behaviors.  Also a little disrespect for the field of ED therapy.  I don’t hate all therapy.  I’ve just had a bad experience with that kind of therapy.

Mike sits heavily down on the picnic bench and unzips her blue insulated lunchbox.  She has no idea what to expect; Colby had shuffled around the kitchen and then thrown the thing at her after she’d threatened to leave without it.  The others around the table—Mike isn’t sure how to think of them.  Clients?  Patients?  Other among the sick, weak, and damned?—sheepishly unload their packed dinners and surreptitiously glance around at what everyone else is either trying or pretending to eat tonight.

Mike joins in and dumps out a host of ominously heavy items.  There’s a Tupperware of something salad-looking, a glass bottle of kombucha, a baggie of brownish clusters resembling granola cereal, a peach, and a banana bread muffin wrapped in a paper towel.  She organizes the individual parts of her meal across her placemat and realizes with a pang of guilt that it’s probably what Colby intended to eat for tomorrow’s lunch.  Now wasted on her.  Mike’s even less inclined to tuck in.

She gets up from the table both to buy a little time and search down some flatware since Colby neglected to give her any.  The journey across the covered patio and into the home-style kitchen is quick, but conspicuous.  Mike’s barely back in her seat when one of the nutritionists, Krista, brightly asks, “What’cha got there, Michaela?  Looks different from your usual.”

Mike shrugs.  She pulls the top off the Tupperware and reveals a mess of greens topped with what looks like a whole avocado and two or three fistfuls of sunflower seeds. Although she knows the monounsaturated fats in the dish are actually quite beneficial to her overall health, the sheer number of calories within the clear plastic dish seems staggering.  But then again, it was meant for a 6’2” teenaged man.  Not for her.

Krista won’t stop looking at her, so Mike digs her plastic fork into the center of the salad and jams a wad of veg into her mouth.  She takes her time chewing, tasting the bitter greens and creamy avocado and nutty sweetness of the seeds.  She thinks for a second that she understands why Colby prefers these kinds of meals.  It tastes a hell of a lot better than the false chemical sweetness of, say, pop tarts.  But that fucking fat content…

When the allotted dinner hour is up, Mike waits in line.  The mandatory after-dinner private conference with Krista or Deb or one of the other heartless fools who run the outpatient therapy program has to be the worst part of the 4-hour-a-day, 3-day-a-week torture.  A degree in nutrition or psychology isn’t enough to give anyone the right to glance across a table and decide whether an independent, free thinking person should be forced to consume even more calories of dairy-based high-sugar “nutritional” drink.

Mike plays with the zipper on her lunchbox, hoping she won’t have to open it and talk through its remaining contents.  She’d made a decent attempt on everything, but finished nothing.  But she feels full.  She almost feels overfull.  Mike wishes she could go to the bathroom.  She’s learned by now that when the digestive system’s been underused or forced to work in reverse for an extended period of time, it goes into the mode of something like a tiny, sick kitten.  Indigestion just follows eating, and sometimes going to sit on the toilet or just stand around in the bathroom— and decidedly not purge—are necessary measures to deal with impending stomach pains.  But that’s not allowed in the fucking therapy program.  Apparently letting grown adults use the toilet on their own whims is too much of a risk.  So it leaves Mike feeling like, well, like shit.  

“Michaela, you’re up.”  Deb lets the previous girl out of her office and beckons to Mike.

Mike tries not to roll her eyes as she steps into the overly cheerful office with its yellow walls and daisy-centric décor.  Deb is decidedly Mike’s least favorite staff member, and unfortunately, she’s the highest ranking.  She’s a businesswoman, owns the therapy program, and despite not having the proper credentials, gets to tell everyone else what to do and where to go.

“Alright, what did we have tonight?”  Deb’s supremely annoying in way she addresses Mike in the plural.  Like she’s a pair of twin toddlers or something.  “I think I saw some salad across the dinner table.  You know that’s not part of your nutrition plan.”

Ah, yes, the nutrition plan, Mike thinks.  The fucking spreadsheet that seems to place human beings as creatures that consume only macronutrients.  “It wasn’t really a salad.  It was a lot of nuts and avocado,” Mike defends.

“That’s still deficient in protein and carbs,” Deb says back with an overbearing, almost sarcastic patience.

“Plus fruit.  And cereal.  And banana bread,” Mike lists monotonously.

“Nutritionally, that’s not enough.”  Deb scratches her flower-topped pen across a notepad, probably writing something scathing for Mike’s file.

“It was my brother’s boyfriend’s packed lunch,” Mike says, letting her forehead wrinkle into her expression of distaste.  “Some people have a muffin or a cup of cereal for their whole meal.”

“You need to stick to your nutrition plan to normalize your eating habits.”

“Normal people eat what I ate.”  Mike crosses her arms.  Colby probably won’t appreciate being glumped together with everyone else on the planet, but to Mike, his calmness and ability to go with the flow places him distinctly opposed to her on the scale of anxiety.  He’s as decidedly normal as Mike’s not.

“Michaela, I know you don’t like to hear this,” Deb says with a sigh.  She opens the mini fridge behind her desk and pulls out a bottle of nutrition shake.  “A muffin or a cup of cereal isn’t enough to keep a person going.  We need to focus on eating the right things in the right quantity to actually meet your needs.”

“So you’re saying everyone is nutritionally deficient?” Mike snaps.

Deb uncaps the shake and pours out 8 ounces into a marked glass.  She pushes it across the desk toward Mike.  “Here.”

“Can you answer my question?”

“Please drink it,” Deb says, false patience thick in her voice.

“Fucking answer it.”

“Michaela.”

Mike’s stomach cramps a little under her folded arms.  “No, I…it makes my stomach hurt.  My stomach already hurts.”

“Your parents enrolled you in this program because they want to help you get better,” Deb says.  “You owe it to them, and you owe it to yourself.  Let’s lose the excuses.”

Mike tentatively wraps her hand around the glass, trying to crush it with her minimal grip strength.  She almost laughs and shakes her head.  “No, my parents enrolled me because they couldn’t be bothered to drive 2 hours out of the way to come visit, and they didn’t want to impose on my hardworking brother and ask him to babysit me.”

“That’s not true.  Your parents are very caring people.”

“You’ve never met my parents.  Just talked to them on the phone,” Mike snorts.

“Do you want to drink that and get back to the group session?” Deb asks, the false cheerfulness starting to wane.

“You wanna answer my question?” Mike reminds her.

“Michaela,” Deb says firmly.  It’s that tone of voice, the kind that clearly betrays a desire for the other person to submit and obey because it’s somehow the right thing to do.  It’s the way Mike’s mother speaks to her.  The way teachers talk to students, the way people order around their dogs and horses when they’re forcing them to do something.

Mike lifts the glass.  She’s already nauseated before it’s to her lips.  She manages to chug down a sip of the blatantly artificial tasting vanilla beverage before everything comes screeching to a halt.  Mike presses her sleeve to her mouth to keep from belching the milky fluid back up.  She’s 20 years old.  She doesn’t have to be here.  Her parents will only lose money if she leaves.  “I can’t,” she chokes out.

“You need to finish that.”  Deb says it firmly, but then her saccharine smile is back.  “You don’t have to take it all at once.  I can get you some water.  We can stay in here for a while.”

“No.”  Mike gets on her feet.  “No.  I can’t do this anymore.  Any of this.”  She swallows the sour-tinged vanilla taste at the back of her throat.  Her fist closes around the strap of her lunchbox.  Mike towers over Deb, who’s still seated behind the desk.  “You’re a liar and a fraud.  You are the opposite of helpful.  Fuck you.”  She’s shaking with combined lightheadedness and anger.

“Michaela—”

Mike doesn’t hear her finish.  She’s already out of the office and down the hall.

Her car’s parked on the street half a block down from the therapy program’s house-like building.  Mike jumps in it and starts low-key speeding down the street before she realizes she’s about to fall apart.  She just had a confrontation with someone.  She cussed someone out.  She was a total dick to Deb and that feels…amazing?

Mike’s hands are shaking and sweat-slick on the steering wheel.  Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her chest.  There’s a throbby ache behind her forehead that’s starting to push her vision into sparkles around the sides.  She needs to calm down.  She needs to breathe.

It’s a 15-minute drive back to the apartment.  Mike’s stomach twists, sending a tendril of hot nausea up her back to erupt in prickles around her neck and jawline.  She has to make it home.

But her breath’s not coming evenly.  Each choppy inhale is shorter than the last, and after a few moments she’s almost gasping.  Mike rolls down the window to invite the fall breeze into her Rav-4.  When she looks up to the view through the windshield, her eyeballs feel foggy.  There’s a siren behind her, and it sends disorienting flashes of red and blue into the car.  Mike tries to pull over, but before she’s sure what’s happened, she’s sideswiped a half-dozen orange barrels and jammed her tire into the curb.

Mike lowers her forehead to the steering wheel, trying to comprehend what she’s gotten herself into while also swallowing the urge to be sick.

“Hello ma’am.  Have you had anything to drink this evening?”  The officer’s standing beside the already-open driver-side window.

“No, I…” Mike says.  There’s entirely too much spit in her mouth.  The still-flashing police lights are giving a strobe effect that isn’t helping with her ability to ground herself in time and space.  She swallows thickly.  “I just—”  The words are lost in a gag that Mike tries to obscure with a hand clapped over her mouth.

“Ma’am?”  The officer yanks the car door open and frees Mike from her seatbelt so she can lean out.  Mike retches, and a spray of whitish fluid hits the asphalt.

“Oh fuck,” Mike chokes.  “I’m sorry.”  She heaves again and brings up more.

“Ok, breathe.  Try to calm down,” the officer instructs.  “You ok?  Just not feeling so hot?”

Mike takes a hitchy breath.  “God.  Yeah, I—” another heave forces its way up her throat, and a weak stream of bile leaves her coughing.

“Alright,” the cop says.

“’M not drunk,” Mike mumbles when she finally has enough breath.

“Yeah, I know.  You don’t smell like alcohol.”  The officer scratches his head.  “You seem pretty sick.  Do you think you need to go to the hospital?”

“No,” Mike whispers.  “I’m ok.”

“You sure you don’t need medical attention?”

“Yeah.”  Mike coughs and wipes her mouth on her sleeve.  “I just…need to go home.”

“I don’t think you should drive right now,” the officer says.

“Huh?”

“I don’t think you hurt your car or anything, but you’re not in good shape to operate your vehicle.”

Oh.  Yeah.  The construction barrels.  It already feels like ages ago.

“Do you have someone to call?” The officer asks.  “I could give you a ride home, but we’d have to tow your car.”

“I don’t know…”  Just the thought of asking for help is turning her stomach again.

“Or I could call paramedics.”

“God, no,” Mike murmurs.    “I, uh, I can call my brother…”  It’s about the last thing Mike wants to do.  She digs her phone out of her back pocket and stares at the lock screen for a moment before clicking back into action.  She fumbles her trembling fingers and selects the contact for Jason.  She lets out an anticipatory sigh as she holds the phone to her ear and listens to it start to ring.

“Yo,” Jason’s deep voice answers.

Mike clears her throat.  “I, uh…”  How is she going to explain this?

“You’re supposed to be in your group until 8, right?” Jason asks.

“Um, I, uh, had to leave,” Mike explains.  She’ll tell him about walking out later.  Maybe.  “I started feeling really sick, and I, uh, started driving home, but…Can you come get me?”  Her heart is a stone plummeting down through her body into the car seat.

“What?”

“I got pulled over.”  The admission’s bringing back the prickly nausea.  “I got sick.”

“Why?”  Jason sounds tired.

“I don’t know.  I was swerving or something.”

“No, Mike.  Geez.  Why?”  He’s not asking why she got pulled over.  It’s another thing Mike’s learned the hard way.  Once someone learns that she has one of those eating disorders, it’s like she’s not allowed to be sick for any other reason.

“I—It wasn’t on purpose.  I’m fine.  I just got nauseous.  I’m fine.  I…” Mike’s about to gag.  “Will you and Colby come get me so the cops don’t tow my fucking car?”  She holds the speaker into her chest while she leans over to let out a wet, belchy cough that doesn’t bring up anything.  She’s almost glad her body’s deciding to rebel so she has something to focus on besides the shame of being week and needy.

Jason’s mid-sentence when she gets the phone back to her ear.  “…on our way.  Just, like, chill for a little bit.  You’re probably all wound up.”

“Thanks,” Mike mutters.  She hangs up, then leans back in the seat and closes her eyes.

“You’ve got him on the way?” the cop asks.

Mike nods.  She realizes she stupidly didn’t tell Jason where she is, but she assumes he’ll just start driving toward the therapy center and find her pretty quickly.

She sits in awkward silence with the cop leaning against the car frame for a while.  He asks once or twice if she’s ok, but stays mercifully quiet when Mike just nods and slumps sideways into the velour seat.  Eventually she recognizes Jason’s black sedan as it pulls into a parking lot across the street.  He jumps out, all pale legs in seasonally inappropriate basketball shorts, and dashes across the deserted road.  Colby’s on his heels, looking like an overgrown loyal dog.

“Hey, thanks for looking out for her,” Jason says to the officer.  He looks at Mike, and she can almost see his hardheartedness melting away.  She must have no color.

“Alright, you look like trash,” Jason says by way of greeting.  “I’ll get you home.”

The officer wishes them well and takes his leave.  Mike feels like she can finally think a little once the flashing lights are out of her visual field.

“You wanna jump in the other side?”  Jason asks, gesturing for Mike to vacate the driver’s seat.

She steps down unsteadily, avoiding the splash of vomit just outside the door.  She doesn’t look forward to being stuck in the car with her brother.  Mike can practically see Jason’s thought bubble.  He’ll ask a lot of questions.  Want to know what happened.  Mike’s having a hard enough time reconciling it for herself, and she doesn’t anticipate her brother having a great understanding of the way certain foods and emotions tend to turn her sensitive stomach.

“You know, why don’t I drive this one?” Colby offers as Jason’s about to hop into the seat Mike just left.  “You’re car’s too small for long legs.”  It’s not a great excuse since Colby only has a couple inches on Jason.  He meets eyes with Mike and raises his blonde eyebrows.

“Yeah, sure,” Jason sighs.  There’s no way he doesn’t know what’s up, but he has the grace to pretend to be oblivious.  “See you back home.”  He crosses back to his own car.

Colby deftly climbs into the Rav-4.  “You know he’s pissed cause he cares,” he says to Mike, who has her temple pressed against the passenger window.

“Yeah,” she says.  “Just…feel like I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”

“I’ll save the lecture, huh?”

“Yeah,” Mike repeats.

Colby stays silent for a while.  Then he asks, “Was it the food I packed?  That made you not feel good?”

“I don’t think so,” Mike murmurs.  “I think it was probably…a lot of stuff.”

“Ok.”  Colby knows not to press.  He turns into the parking lot of their apartment complex.

As they’re gliding into a spot, Mike bluntly asks, “Why’d you care about me?”

“Cause you deserve to be cared about?”  It’s less a question than a statement of duh.  “I know you don’t always think so, but it’s true.”

“Huh.”

Colby puts the car in park and removes the keys from the ignition.  “So, if you’re not opposed to my cooking, you wanna maybe join us for breakfast in the morning?  I’ve convinced Jason to let me make him something other than pop tarts.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it,” Mike says.  It’s too early to tell how she’ll be feeling in the morning.  But she really does intend to think about it.

[lachanterelle-endicott]

Chef Brendan Cronin: A Model of Excellence

Before coming to Endicott College, I was in the same position as many high school seniors - I didn’t have a clear direction on what I wanted to do with my life. My favorite hobby was cooking and creating new recipes, but I didn’t think I would be good enough to do such an intricate job. It wasn’t until I visited Endicott and spoke to the hospitality faculty, that I realized I could take my love for cooking, and implement it in a variety of different platforms, without even cooking the meals myself. There was one professor that left an everlasting mark on me when I left campus, and his Irish accent is one that I now hear every day. 

Brendan Cronin is a professor at Endicott College, and he is one of the reasons I chose Endicott. Professor Cronin is the culinary instructor at the on-campus restaurant, La Chanterelle, and he has traveled the world to over 20 different countries and worked in a large percentage of them. He has brought such profound knowledge to Endicott College and has made the hospitality program what it is today – accredited and containing a hallmark of the North Shore, La Chanterelle. After completing my year at La Chanterelle, I decided that I wanted to give back and share my experiences with a broader audience, and I have started at the source - Chef Cronin. 

“I grew up on a small farm on the West coast of Ireland and I helped milk cows,” stated Cronin when I asked about his journey to Endicott. He continued on and said, “my mother had a guest house and would let people stay there, and she would often have to cook 14 meals a day...14 breakfasts, 14 lunches, and 14 dinners, so I would help her in the kitchen. She realized my love for cooking.” 

At the age of 15, Cronin left his home and went to study hospitality at a hotel school. From then on, he traveled the world and gained all his knowledge through experiencing all cultures. “Working in a country is different than living in it. Living in a country can be life-changing because you are integrated with people, live and work with them, adapt their cultures, learn their language and appreciate their struggles and you take a little bit of them away with you when you leave,” said Cronin. 

Cronin brings these cultural influences into his classrooms. When he decided to move to the United States permanently and work for Endicott in 1995, he was approached with the idea to create an experiential learning environment for the students - a restaurant. Cronin has opened restaurants before, but this was a new challenge because the restaurant had to be modeled as a classroom. 

La Chanterelle is located right across the street from Endicott in a building called Misselwood. The building is fully brick, and has had limited renovations done to it in order to preserve the history. There are dining rooms located inside, and it is the job of the service students to set up each table with the proper wares such as: two sets of forks, two sets of knives, a dessert spoon and fork, butter knife, charter plate, amuse bouche china, wine glasses and water glasses. 

Meanwhile, in the back of the house, culinary students are baking fresh bread, organizing their mise en place, and preparing for the night ahead. The kitchen is spotless at every moment, and students are encouraged to taste the dishes that their peers are creating. There is a checklist for every hour in the back of the house, and it details exactly what needs to be done. With such a procedure in order, everything runs smoothly. 

“I don’t cook at La Chanterelle,” said Cronin. The entire model is to learn by doing. Cronin will provide a sample demonstration, and the students are entrusted to follow what he does for the remaining dishes. La Chanterelle provides an amuse bouche (a small bite to stimulate the palate), appetizer, entree, dessert, and mignardises (a post dessert treat). The inspiration behind such a menu is “a fine line between what the student can prepare without getting totally stressed and what the customer will order,” said Cronin. He continued by stating that “the student has to be able to feel ‘I can do this.’” This type of attitude must be consistent upon any of the entrees (pork, salmon, swordfish, or chicken). With complex dishes, students would tend to give up; however, simple dishes can be heightened with extraordinary flavors. 

Cronin has implemented a unique teaching style at La Chanterelle. He reflected upon when he was in grade school and how school was synonymous with fear. If your answer was incorrect, then you received physical punishment and were reprimanded. “There was learning through fear, so there was no learning,” said Cronin. However, in Cronin’s classroom, he made a subconscious promise. 

“There will never be fear in my classroom,” he said. In order to do so, Cronin provides an inclusive work environment, and allows students to deviate on their own paths. He said that “if a student is pan-frying a chicken or cutting zucchini and they don’t do it exactly how I want it, I will find a way to still let them know that it was pretty good!” To Cronin, there is no connection between being able to perfectly cut zucchini and becoming a general manager, instead he believes that students have a variety of skills that they are constantly trying to find and enhance in order to reach their dreams and aspirations. 

Even if after students leave the class, and what they have learned does not sink in for months after, once it does, Cronin believes that the learning they have done has been beneficial. “Different people process information differently, so you let them process it, and the essential thing is they come up with the answer,” said Cronin. Cronin is a mentor for these students, just as his mentors groomed him. He went on to say that “I still have mentors in my immediate circle.”

The main takeaway that Cronin hopes the students find is to watch the professors and the stagiaires (student teachers) and see how they perform their tasks. He believes that the students he is teaching are the future managers, so his class is the baseline. He stated that “we treat people correctly, the customer and the student. The student is our customer.” He longs for his students to have the skill sets that other students do not contain in regards to leading, respecting and motivating people. 

Along with modeling a new environment for students to work, Cronin worked hard on furthering his own education. He documented his traveling education, and received credit based on the classes he was taking and submitted these writing pieces in order to receive his bachelor’s degree. 

“At the end of the semester, I had this big portfolio and my mother was over visiting from Ireland, and I showed it to her because I was very proud of it. She read through it and said that it was very interesting, and that I should write a book. I didn’t so the portfolio sat on the shelf for 12 years, and then what I had written were all files on my computer. Slowly but surely, I had put the files on my computer into a document and that made up almost a third of the book already,” said Cronin about his book. Published in 2012, Cheffin’ From Potatoes to Caviar is a memoir honoring all that Cronin has accomplished, the people he has met, and the places he has been inspired by. 

“I think I am here for a reason,” said Cronin. “The knowledge I have gained along the way, everyone I have met and every hotel I have worked in along the way has contributed in part to who I am today, and has helped me to develop my world view,” said Cronin. He went on to describe his world view as “everyone has a dream on where they want to be and everyone is carrying baggage that we cannot see. To help the person realize their dream and realize that they are surrounded by people who also carry baggage - encourage people to follow their dreams because it is your dream; it is not someone else’s dream.” With such a world view, he encourages his students to dream big and he will help them in any way that he can. 

Towards the end of the interview, Cronin posed me a question: “What were some of the expressions that the customer mentioned when you put the plate of food down in service?” I took a moment to think, and then stated that immediately people’s eyes lit up and after each bite they would talk to their colleagues about how wonderful the food tasted. This excitement for the food reaffirms how those in culinary begin to believe in themselves and gain their self-confidence. 

The final question I posed to Cronin was: “what was your greatest success?” His answer was one that I will never be able to forget; he said, “my family.” Cronin prides himself on his wife Christine, whom he met working in Switzerland at a ski resort. With her he has created a family composed of two children, and believes that “life is too short not to share it with someone.” His children are like La Chanterelle and are a way in which he continues to share his life’s passion with new people each and every week. I invite you all to gather one day at La Chanterelle and witness the magic that is Brendan Cronin. 

[nhlabornews]

AFT-NH President Ley Testifies Against SB 193 To House Finance Committee

(January 16, 2018) Below is the full submitted testimony of AFT-NH President Douglas Ley on SB 193:

Let me begin by offering my thanks to the Committee Chair and to the Finance Committee for taking the time to hear my testimony.

For the record: Douglas Ley, representing District 9-Cheshire County, towns of Dublin, Harrisville, Jaffrey, & Roxbury. In addition, I am here as president of American Federation of Teachers-NH, and have filed the requisite paperwork with the Legislative Ethics Office.

Speaking on behalf of myself and the 4,000 members of AFT-NH, I come before you in opposition to SB193. The written report provided to you focuses upon financial aspects of SB193 and places the proposed program into a broader national context by looking at its financial provisions as compared to those in other states with similar Education Savings Accounts (ESAs). You can read the report by clicking the link Following the Wrong Path.

Based upon the comparison between SB193 and similar programs in five other states, the report concludes that “NH should expect similar taxpayer and academic accountability problems as these states.” Without going over the report in detail (I am confident the Committee will do its due diligence), let me simply highlight a few salient points:

SB193 eligibility requirements closely mirror those in AZ (esp. prior to very recent amendments there), but unlike AZ and other states, there is no requirement in SB193 for prior public school enrollment as a condition of eligibility. Thus, NH can expect similar student loss from public schools and the accompanying costs as occurred in AZ.

Funding formulas across states with ESAs are generally similar. In AZ there was a 10-fold increase in costs between 2012-15, and the losses estimated by Reaching Higher NH are in line with experiences in other states.

On the issue of financial accountability, AZ’s Attorney General just two years ago found that in one six-month period, there was over $100,000 in misspent funds. Under SB193, there is only very limited public financial accountability—instead, accountability is outsourced to the same private entity earning money from the program. In addition, there is no requirement for posting of surety bonds or other insurance by private providers, to ensure that private schools or providers would have enough money to reimburse the State for any misused funds. Ultimately, SB193 lacks even rudimentary public financial accountability standards, to say nothing of the very meager academic accountability standards.

Other witnesses will undoubtedly go into great detail on specific estimated costs to the State and to local property tax payers in order to fund SB193 while maintaining our constitutional duty to education and our social contract commitment to public schools and public education. Allow me to close by noting two additional items:

First, let me draw your attention to a letter from the Superintendent of the Monadnock Regional School District, which includes one of the towns I represent. In that letter sent to you on Monday, January 15, the Superintendent expresses her clear concerns over the financial impact on the Monadnock District of anywhere from $83,000 to $172,000 in lost State aid to the District. What is not said in that letter is that this is a District that has faced very difficult budget battles over the past five years and the likelihood of those budget wars continuing for the near future.

Second, you also received a letter from the president of the Nashua Teachers Union (NTU), who could not attend this hearing today due to conflicting commitments. In that letter, NTU president Adam Marcoux reviews their objections to SB193, pointing to Nashua’s loss of hundreds of thousands of dollars in State funds if SB193 becomes law. His conclusion regarding SB193’s financial impact is succinct and pointed: It “sounds like a state property tax increase, in addition to the anticipated local property tax increases.”

At a time when this committee has already rejected a number of other policy proposals on grounds that State funds are simply not available, I ask that the Committee reject SB193 as financially unsound for the State of New Hampshire and as an expenditure of public funds with virtually no public accountability. For localities, this will entail further downshifting of costs onto local taxpayers in order to provide public funds to those who choose of their own volition to send their children to private or home schools. This is not a proper use of public funds, unregulated, unaudited, and certain to result in tax increases. I ask that you therefore reject SB193 and vote to recommend ITL.

[Note: The entire written testimony is provided but actual testimony was abbreviated due to time constraints and to avoid duplicate testimony. Per President Ley, many school boards, school board members, superintendents and policy experts tore into the bill in great and meticulous detail. AFT-NH applauds their efforts.]

  AFT-NH President Ley Testifies Against SB 193 To House Finance Committee was originally published on NH LABOR NEWS

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ESL Jobs in Japan: 7 Questions to Answer Before Sending In Your Application (1/2)

This is the first entry of the 2-part blog series on landing an English teaching job in Japan. I’ll try not to give out specific details, since what worked for me might not work for you. 

Background

My purpose for writing this blog is to inform my fellow ESL teachers of the opportunities outside the Philippines, specifically in Japan. I don’t why, but whenever I do something big, I feel helpless. I always start from scratch, so now I’d like to help anyone interested on how to set their job search journey in motion.  

There was a month when I received rejection letters, like every other day. Oh, let’s not forget the ignored emails! But I didn’t let these negative outcomes affect me. I knew every rejection would allow me to narrow down my options. That was my mindset.

To give you a background, I sent in applications to English schools in Vietnam, Taiwan, China, Middle East, Spain and Czech Republic, too. I was fortunate to be invited to a Skype interview with a Czech employer. However, the nature of employment for ESL instructors there is freelance, so I opted not to pursue it yet. (I’d love to try it someday.) Then I decided to check job orders for English Teachers in POEA’s official website, and found several agencies to contact. Only one out of the 3 or 4 was responsive. 

Overview of Selection Process

A teacher applicant will be evaluated based on two major areas. First, proper credentials are considered necessary to pass the paper screening, which is the initial part only. Demo teaching and interviews aim to measure skills, and test motivations. However, throughout the process, one must be mindful of one’s attitude toward agency staff, employers and co-applicants, as character of the teacher applicant is keenly observed. Companies may have additional assessment for them to identify suitability of the teacher applicant to their work culture, and the ability to contribute to the improvement of Japanese students’ English skill. 

Self-assessment

Why is self-assessment needed? This is a competitive industry. In my opinion, screening has become tough through the years. Currently in Japan, it’s now the new era of English learning. Quality is taking the spotlight as the demand continues to increase. Although most employers prefer to hire teachers whose first language is English, some of them are opening up opportunities to Filipino teachers. Thus every application should be submitted with discretion. We can’t apply to jobs randomly, as we do locally. 

The Beginning

Despite being in the ESL industry since 2008, it’s just in the middle of this year that I began religiously looking for an English teaching job in Japan. I waited until I received a confirmation of my graduation for my second course (BA Multimedia Studies), because the first one was only Associate in Arts. I acquired formal training, which is the TESOL certification course. And I completed all the necessary documents. Although I got shortlisted, I wasn’t taking my mind off the personal goals I set.  

7 QUESTIONS TO ANSWER BEFORE SENDING IN YOUR APPLICATION

Before this gets any longer, here are the 7 questions you need to honestly answer before sending in your application. Don’t get discouraged if you feel there’s much to accomplish. I also felt overwhelmed, but I did as my father advised me to--step by step. Be patient with yourself. If God has given you a vision to serve in Japan, He will provide and will make a way for you to meet all requirements. For now, your goal is transparency and clarity, so you’ll know how to move forward. God will open doors no man can shut, I promise you. 

1. “Is teaching my passion and calling?”

Yes, we need money, but having that as your sole reason for applying may not help you land a teaching job in Japan. Before making any career move, pray about it first and ask for God’s wisdom. Don’t get ahead of Him.

2. “Do I understand the Japanese culture and their work environment well enough?”

Japanese people live by a collectivist culture, where there’s less emphasis given on the needs of an individual. Well, in general, our lives must be governed by a higher purpose. They work long hours and help one another to achieve their organization’s goals. You may struggle with work-life balance in the beginning. Awareness and acceptance of the Japanese work ethics will help you in adjusting expectations and increasing your productivity at work. 

3. “Do I prefer teaching young learners or adult learners?”

Companies have different target markets. Knowing your strengths and personality will allow you to determine whether you’re suitable to teach young learners or adult learners. It will be beneficial for both the teacher applicants and the recruiters to apply to a company reflecting one’s values and purpose. It will save you time and emotional energy. 

4. “Have I met the basic requirements?”

a. A degree. Other countries require a PRC license, but most companies in Japan don’t. I finished my second degree at age 26, and my mother, 51, is a 2nd-year college student right now. Education will always be a good investment. Please try your best to get that diploma! The universe will conspire to help you. The Lord blesses the diligent, friends. He will provide. 

b. Relevant work experience. Some applicants get frustrated when they see the required minimum years of experience. This isn’t just for your employer, but for you as well. You will have hardworking students in your class, and it will be unfair for them for you not to be able to provide quality lessons. Experience is the best teacher. No matter how much theory or text you’ve read, you won’t learn the ropes unless you actually experience handling students in different settings and with distinct needs. 

c. Training. Contrary to popular opinion, number of years doesn’t imply quality. A teacher applying wrong methods in class for many years may think s/he is right until a person of authority corrects her/him, which is pretty similar with my experience. This is why training is important.

During the TESOL training, I was wondering why I didn’t invest in such productive activity before. I’d been doing some things wrong, and I wasn’t even aware of them. 

Based on my Google search, TESOL training is the ESL-related certification course available in the Philippines as of today. I looked for a training provider and enrolled in a 120-hour program, which is the minimum requirement for training hours. According to our Australian instructor, the knowledge base of the ESL industry remains intact since it was first introduced. Improvements are mainly from the results of brain and memory research and experiments.

To further your English communication ability, take skills-focused classes. If you are interested in teaching adults, you may want to join a crash course in public speaking. 

If you want to be an Assistant Language Teacher in a public school, a certain JLPT level is required and a driver’s license. Please check JET programme for more information.

d. Legal documents. In the Philippines, most documents need some time for processing and release. Set appointments or make online requests, and complete the documents as soon as you can. 

5. “Do I have enough funds to fill in the skills gap?”

After the self-assessment, you probably have come up with a list of things you need to accomplish before sending in your application. Unless you have a sponsor, don’t quit your job yet. Allocate a portion of your salary to education funds, specialized courses, or training. 

6. “Is my CV updated and organized?” 

I didn’t put this item on top of the list because you need to accomplish the things above first before updating your CV for your profile to be appealing to recruiters. Remember, the initial stage is paper screening. I’m currently using cvmkr.com for my CV. The site generates the file after inputting the necessary information.

7. “Am I physically fit for a teaching job in Japan?” 

Teacher applicants must be fit and healthy. Especially with kids classes, you’ll need a lot of energy to function for 8 hours everyday. I’ve been physically inactive for the past few months, but I’ll surely go back to my workout routine this week! 

--

The second part of this blog post will be published late this week or early next week. If you still have questions that I can answer, I’m just a message away. I might include it in my next entry. Thank you for dropping by! Hope this helped. ;)

[onireview]

ChromiCode Review – Uncover the Hidden Potentials of Chrome Extensions

ChromiCode Review - Problems Driving Traffic Is Now Solved Through Chrome Extension Directory

As a matter of fact, what Google Chrome can actually do surpasses the limits of a normal web browser. Due to the limitless extension directory of this browser, it can be transformed into a powerful tool for you to earn huge amounts of online profits.

Moreover, millions of Chrome users constantly look for appropriate extensions to enhance their experience. Thus, the extension directory can be regarded as a potential platform for you to advertise your business.

Today in my ChromiCode Review, I am going to illustrate what this application can actually do to help you scale up your campaigns.

[wp-review id="317"]

ChromiCode Review – Overview

Vendor: Curt Crowley et al

Product: ChromiCode

Launch Date: 2017-Sep-12

Launch Time: 10:00 EDT

Front-End Price: $27 - $37

Sales Page: Click Here

Niche: Software

Refund: 30-day money back guarantee

Bonus: Yes!

Recommend: Highly recommend

What is ChromiCode?

In general, ChromiCode is an all-in-one system that enables you to remarkably boost conversions, traffic, as well as create push notifications and emails. This can be achieved through the production of Chrome extensions before being added to its directory. Simply put, this tool leverages its massive library to serve as a lead magnet.

About Author

Curt Crowley is a well-known video marketing expert in the market, with multiple successful products being launched under his supervision. Some of the most outstanding names are SocialBuzz, Social Calls, Instant Lead Magnets and so on.

In addition, his reputation has reached beyond the border of his home country. Many entrepreneurs and agencies have claimed that their his products account for a big proportion of the factors contributing to their successes. So, basically, I have no reasons to doubt the functionality of his upcoming course - ChromiCode.

This ChromiCode Review will further articulate its major modules in the following segment.

What are the Features of ChromiCode?

ChromiCode Extension Builder

“Special offers” extension keeps track of the offer and the percentage of commission that you can earn

Offer coupon extensions which enable clients to save money. You can drive massive amounts of individuals to your events with your affiliate link.

Enhance the quality of the customer service and ordering process through using embedding chatbots.

Release an extension for your YouTube accounts. By offering your audience a free extension, you will be able to boost video views and engagement.

Provide an extension which helps you target the proper audience of your brand, service and product.

Unique extensions for your Facebook accounts which are used to attract the attention of potential customers. Moreover, as you try to enhance interaction with your visitors, you groups or pages are more likely to go viral on social media.

Generate an entire extension for your Skype group to increase audience engagement.

Breaking news extension and Top stories extension inform you with the most recent news around the world or in a specific industry. Some possibilities are Stock News, Breaking Political Updates, CryptoCurrency updates, and so on.

The Product of the Day extension allows you to identify the latest products of the day across multiple platforms at the same time. Additionally, you can interlink them with your affiliate accounts through your offers.

There are many ways in which the promotional links can be turned into an efficient advertising weapon for your business via giveaways.

Bookmark your extension for later references

ChromiCode Training Center

Along with the original application, ChromiCode is also paired with an over the shoulder training program. Within this course, you will be able to gain useful knowledge regarding the process of creating and uploading Chrome Extensions. Besides, it also integrates with third-party services such as OneSignal.

Private Member Group on Facebook

As soon as a new attendant joins the course, they will be instantly added to a private Facebook group. To be specific, this group is the place where every issue and question will be discussed and solved thoroughly. Not only can you seek for help from other ChromiCode users, but you can also ask for direct advice from the developers.

How does it Work?

This section presents a brief summary of what you are going to do in order to submit your own Google Chrome extension to its directory. In sum, there are five main steps which you need to proceed through with a view to dramatically boosting conversions.

Step#1: Decide the function of your extension.

Step#2: Install the “Wizard” which asks some comprehensive questions.

Step#3: Establish your series of follow-up messages

Step#4: Create your own extension.

Step#5: Instantly upload the extension to Google Chrome Store

Besides, you can also take a look at its sales page here to have a more general understanding of this system.

Within the demo video below, Curt Crowley, the creator of ChromiCode, is going to show how the software works

https://youtu.be/m2oZF6Unak0

Who Should Use It?

As far as I’m concerned, I highly recommend ChromiCode to online entrepreneurs, especially those who want to take their business to the next level by attracting a wider group of potential customers via your self-produced extensions.

Besides, this platform is also a spectacular starting point for newbie digital marketers because they will be able to tap into the limitless source of traffic from the extension directory. Furthermore, as you can produce as extensions as you want, the profits it brings to your business will last for a very long time.

Pros and Cons

There are some important reasons why my ChromiCode Review noted this product as “Highly Recommend”. First and foremost, the tips and tricks introduced in the video training are really comprehensive, so its newbie-friendliness should be a highlight that sets this tool apart from other counterparts.

In addition, ChromiCode executes an outstanding performance with an evergreen concept. Besides the course itself, the trainer Curt Browley is also a renowned teacher who has thousands of students globally.

On the other hand, I think it would be better if the training course is paired with handouts, or whole PDF file if possible. Watching the videos is fine, though, but the handouts will make it much easier for me to summarize what I’ve learned.

User experience

After testing out the features that ChromiCode offers, I think it is not exaggerating to admit that the provided functions are not only very impressive, but it also a reliable system for Chrome users. ChromiCode lets users maximize the mammoth potentials of its extension directory to earn profits.

Since I started using this platform for my own business, I have had a stunning chance to expose my extensions on the huge directory, thus increasing their chances of being searched and ranked higher on search engines. As a result, I am able to generate tons of organic traffic and enhance my sales performance.

Evaluation and Price

Via this ChromiCode Review, I want to remind you that if you have the intention of buying this product, please mark your calendar for its official launch on September 12, 2017. Furthermore, the current front-end price starts from $27, but I suggest that you should hurry up because the price tends to increase unexpectedly.

Specifically, the developers of ChromiCode allow you to utilize the refund policy for a period of 30 days since you buy this application. Therefore, if you have any problem with this tool, you can totally have your money returned without any questions. So, your investment is basically safe.

Furthermore, ChromiCode gains its trust from customers by offering this risk-free refund policy. Eventually, it is a trustworthy deal that you can put your faith in.

Conclusion

In conclusion, I hope that my ChromiCode Review has provided you with more detailed information relating to this cloud-based software. Moreover, I am really grateful to you guys for following this review to the very end. Finally, wish you all the best and please let me know if there is something which is not clear enough.

Check out the text at : ChromiCode Review – Uncover the Hidden Potentials of Chrome Extensions