#i miss it though. learning from professors and physically attending lectures

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I still have a lot to look into on this but I heard that some universities have been or are planning to ban “study drugs” and I’m so pissed. Sure, I’m not sure if I’ll ever really get the chance to go to one, but even if I don’t, that’s still basically just banning a majority of medicated people with adhd, and possibly other issues. That is medical discrimination and I’m so pissed about it. This is what happens when the medications that many of us need to be functional are stigmatized and “abused” I have trouble remembering to do my own dishes without meds, and they expect people like me to go through college like that? Or, more likely in my opinion, do they just not want those “disabled drug addicts” in their fancy schools?

[seostudios]

mr.lee

pairing: ten lee x fem!reader genre: fluff, smut info: professor!ten, student!reader, established relationship warnings: public sex word count: 1.4k a/n: this is inspired by pretty little liars and a request i recently got

MAY 2018

You gaze out the display window behind the mannequin you were currently dressing. Working part-time at an boutique was hard enough but, you made it your goal to reach above and beyond, farther than any student would ever dare to go past, you make your back to the table, sketching out a couple of ideas that had just popped into your head after measuring the life-size doll. You bring your hand out to grab your marble cup, to sip on the green tea you made earlier that morning. 

The shop wasn't open yet since it was still the earlier hours of dawn, but the ring of the bell in the front indicated someone was in too much of a rush to pay attention to the sign outside, reading 'CLOSED' Bringing your eyes up, you see a man. He wore a faded black grid plaid blazer, paired with a tucked-in white tee, and Levi's jeans. It was simple, yet so chic his choice of attire already said so much about him. He seems sophisticated, better than you. He knew that. "Hello?" He asked, looking around and above the clothing racks to look for a worker. "Right here," You reply, waving at him motioning him to come forth. "You do know we don't open for another," You look over at your wrist to the watch, "20 minutes." You finish, you notice him raise his hand to scratch the back of his head awkwardly, informing you he walked in so fast he forgot, "It's fine, what can I help you with?" You ask him. "I need a little hemming done on this blazer, could you do that?" He requested, you hum looking him up and down before getting up from your seat. You ask him to remove the blazer so you can chalk it, what you didn't expect was the boy to be pretty ripped. His arms were a sight you didn't miss. He was older than you, a good 8 years probably. "Are you gonna hem or just stare at me?" He laughs, looking at you fondly as you go reddish, “Right.”

"Here you go, on the house," You say, handing his blazer back, fitting him more perfectly than it probably did in the first place. He throws a quick thanks before running out. You grab the stranded marble mug with your now, room-temperature green tea, still sipping on it as if it was freshly made. What you don't expect to see out the display window is the man,  jogging right back in. "Can I-" He pauses to bend over panting, how fast did he run? After catching his breath he swoops his hair back to look at you once more. "Can I get your number?"

OCTOBER 2018

It had been almost seven months since you've started dating, Chittaphon. After his, not so exceptional gesture of asking you out, he had been trailing behind you like a lost puppy until you agreed. Who would reject such a cutie though, you had to be mad. You've learned over time that he was a professor, for literature in the East end of Dongguk University or other words; your school. The two of you weren't aware of this until he had strolled into the West end of Dongguk to the Economics side. The first set of eyes he met were yours while entering the lecture hall, he was shocked and you were ashamed. It was a misunderstanding, he thought you are attending a school online, but you were taking online courses until September. Sooner or later reality will take a toll on you two, your love, but now, you enjoy it while you can.

SEPTEMBER 2020

It's been 2 years and 4 months since you've met Chittaphon and 2 years since you've met Mr.Lee, you have to admit it's been quite a fun year indeed. You've both had your ups and downs, risks, were most definitely performing an immense part in preserving your relationship, making sure you two stay inline and don't get in over your heads, there have been days where you were almost caught by students, faculty and even your friends. "We've been together for a little over two years now Y/n, I think we should celebrate," Chittaphon said, hand grazing over your thigh, laying beside you in your shared bed. "I don't think so, you almost got us caught today with what you pulled in the Computer Lab." You say rolling your eyes, too focused on your phone. He sighs in defeat, opting to cuddle away his hard-on. Yours enclosed around him holding him close as his leg flung over you, arm tightened around your waist. He made sure you felt his teeny pecks with his head in the crook of your neck, "Stop, sleep." You mumble Chittaphon sees you are still idling on your device so he pulls his teacher-card, "You have to attend a class tomorrow Y/n, I think getting some shut-eye is what you need, right?" He said in that voice which boomed over the empty room- you fire back, "You have to TEACH a class tomorrow Mr.Lee I think you need more sleep than me." You state hearing his whine beside your ear, knowing how badly he just lost that. "Please Y/n, I just want to cuddle you and kiss you, Please, for me?" This time he opted to whine, oh god what a child you thought chuckling to put your phone away. You bring your hand up from his back to comb your fingers through his hand, lightly massaging his scalp knowing it puts him to bed fast.

SEPTEMBER 2020

"Y/n L/n? Is there a Y/n L/n?" Mr.Lee, who's voice boomed throughout the auditorium. Your grin was slapped off, as you nervously stand from your seat, "Yes? That's me," You say licking your lips, "I need to discuss your proposal for the literature contest you are applying for, please stay after class." He said watching you nod, sitting back down in your seat. He nods and continues his conversation with some students upfront. I can't believe out of all the teachers available, they pick Chittaphon to sub this class. You mentally face-palm at yourself and your boyfriend for causing such a scene, now everyone is gonna think you are bad at literature, only the dumb kids get held back! Finally the end of class, you get up along with the 50 other students in the class to walk over to the door, you stood by the entrance, waiting for everyone to leave the room, "How horny do you have to be to make me stay after class?!" You shout at the man in front of you, whacking him with your textbook. "Hey! I'm not horny!" He shouts in defence, "I wanted to talk with you about your contest entry." At least he tried to look believable. I mean this pent up sexual frustration hasn't been used, due to recent school projects which required a lot of energy which couldn't be wasted. But you didn't have any more classes and Mr.Lee was available for another hour. You walk over to sit on his desk, "Mr.Lee" You say interrupting him in the middle of his sentence, "I think we should focus on something more important," Pointing your finger over at his growing buldge. He walks over, your quick to grab his tie pulling him closer, between your legs, rubbing your clothed core against his pants. "I think so too," He told you before you brought up your hands to the base of his neck pulling him in.  

One hand was over your mouth suppressing any noises you were making from the sensation of having Chittaphon's cock stuffed in you. I guess calling him Mr.Lee brings out his dark side. He's been relentlessly pounding into you like crazy, nonstop. You've come like what once? Twice? Keeping up at this point was too hard to calculate, But Chittaphon was about to paint your walls with his cum all over again if you keep clenching around his thick cock. Your back arches; reaching your climax again as he came. "You did so well babe," He praised, grabbing the tissue box beside you to wipe his liquid off you. "You're so hot," You tell him, getting up fixing your physical appearance, your dress was pulled up to your stomach, and your panties, which were in his mouth. After retrieving your undergarments from Chittaphon (which was a challenge itself) you help him fix himself up, buttoning his shirt and doing his tie. "There, as handsome as always." You cooed ruffling his hair around, "You got a class, and I gotta go make dinner,", "Short-ribs?" He questioned remember you were talking about it last night. You nod,  "Correct, Bye-bye I love you" You finish dashing out the door, leaving him alone in the silent room which was filled with both of your sinful noises not too long ago

[growingingreenwood]

Hey I start college this week any advice? Hope all is well you are amazing!

Omg good job!! That's so exciting!!!! Alrighty, I have a bachelor’s degree and now i'm working on my Rec Therapy Degree so I’ve had like 5 and a half years of college/university experience so hopefully at least something here will be helpful for you. 

What are you going to collage to take?

One- Try to sit in the front of of the lecture hall

Classes will probably be a lot bigger than you’re used to and many people find this intimidating. I used to sit at the very back of lecture halls because I hated having to walk past rows of people, but you know what? My grades suffered for it. I’m an easily distracted human being with crippling ADHD and so being able to see everybody's computer screen was a nightmare for me. Half the class was watching movies or playing games or whatever so I didn't hear a damn word my teacher said. The closer I was to the front, the less distracting it was for me. Plus, I find that when I’m more familiar with being closer to my teachers it's easier and less intimidating for me to ask them for help or to re-explain things. 

Two- Don’t be embarrassed, everybodys a mess and other people have your question. 

The colleges I’ve been to have been nothing like highschool. We’re all in this together, we’re a suffering squad okay. So if you're too tired to ‘look good’ SICK half your class probably has not showered in like five days. Have a question that you think might make sound dumb? I can literally assure you that other people have the same question and pray somebody else will ask it. All of you are confused, it's okay. 

Three - BUY YOUR TEXTBOOKS USED!!!!!

Oh my god I cannot stress this enough. For some reason professores and schools are out here hustling textbooks like starving soundcloud rappers. We don’t need that shit. Your school probably has a facebook group or two where students are selling their old textbooks much cheaper than you could get them in bookstores. And when I mean cheaper, I mean by like 100 - 200 dollars. If you're on a physical campus, lots of people put lists of what books they're selling on their lockers so keep an eye out for flyers as well. 

Four -  Join a club! 

One of the things I really love about college is all the low pressure social situations. There's literally tons of clubs at most universities rankings from really open (First Year Social Club!!) to ridiuclously niche (We All Play Super Smash Brothers In Full Costume Once A Month) so its a great place to start when it comes to making new friends and finding some cool stuff to do! 

Five - Don’t fall for the ‘too cool’ trap. 

Lots of people have endless fun in college (like me) and some people really, really hate it. Personally, I think it has a lot to do with your attitude about being there. There's tons of pep rallies, carnivals, festivals and whatever else held by your school that can actually be super fun to attend but many people think they're ‘too cool’ for things like that. Don’t fall into this trap, I can assure you those that went to the events had like 9 billion times more fun. 

 Six - ASK FOR THE HELP THAT YOU NEED 

This lesson took me so long to learn, but it was life changing once I did learn it. There's tons of resources available to you though most universities, and most of it was probably paid for through your tuition so it makes no sense to NOT access these things. See what your school offers for counseling services, stress reduction, learning activities held in the library, financial aid, make use of your teachers office hours, things like that. Crawl through your school’s website and see what they have to offer you, you can get some really really good life advice sometimes. If you’re falling behind in school work and need an extension, ask for it. Literally the worst thing that can happen is your teacher telling you ‘no.’ Which, honestly, in my near six years of schooling has literally only happened once and it was because the teacher personally didn’t like me. 

Seven -- C’s Get Degrees 

School Burnout Is REAL, she is sneaky, and she will hit you when you least expect it. I really struggle with having too high of expectations of myself when it comes to my work/life balance. This is the only year that I haven't worked at least 20 hours a week on top of full time university education and that only because of COVID and my immune issues, however for some reason I always expect myself to do like 3 - 4 hours of homework a day. Which is lunacy. At least it is for me. I literally cannot even count how many times I’ve put my grades before my physical, spiritual, emotional, and mental wellbeing. How many times I’ve forced myself to keep studying when I knew that I had already surpassed my limit hours ago because I thought that getting an A was more important than anything else. Especially myself. That’s not true. 

You weren’t put on this earth to get straight A’s, you were put on this earth to be the best you that you can be. 

So sometimes, you really do just gotta accept that ‘C’s get Degrees’ and you gotta close your textbook, go paint your nails, call your friend, and go to bed. 

Eight -- Everything Can Be A Learning Experience 

There are endless things to learn at college, and most of them aren't what the teachers are telling you. College is where I first learned that it really isn’t the end of the world to fail sometimes. It happens, it happens to everyone, but there's always something to learn from every ‘failure’ and part of it is how you can better handle failures in the future. It teaches you how to work with people, share ideas, and grow in your self-confidence. If you take the time to self-reflect when you find yourself struggling in aspects of your life in college, you can really learn a lot about yourself and how you present. 

It was through self-reflecting on some of my peer interactions that I realized my vocabulary was creating a rift between me and them, as several people as it as a way of me purposefully trying to make myself seem ‘better’ or ‘more educated’ when in reality I just forget a lot of simple words and end up using some ridiculous monstrosity in casual sentences.  The more I made that known about myself in interactions, and mentioning how much I read, helped my interactions because it helped people to better understand WHY I speak that way. This lesson has continued to help me throughout my life. 

Nine -- Missing Lectures is a Slippery Slope

My attendance rate was already a lost cause by the time I got to University (my highschool almost didn't let me graduate because I had an 87% absentee rate and something like 300 missed detentions but I was 1 of 3 Full Honors Students and they wanted the funding so they ecentually let me lol) but I have watched many a student crawl into this 'Chronic Skipping' pit with me in my years. Im not really sure why it happens, but basically as soon as you miss 2 lectures for no concrete reason (like a dentist appointment or cause your sick or something) it's game over for you. You'll miss two classes, then three, then four, then 2 a week, then 3 a week. Then you start skipping other subjects too. Then you end up like me and suddenly its the end of the term and you realize you've only attended 4 entire classes, one of which was the first day and the other 3 were exams. (True story, that was my 8am Political Science Class in my second year)

I hope this helps somewhat!!!! Let me know if you have any specific questions! 

And thank you lovely, I’m chugging along doing my best trying to get back into my creative bubble which for some reason seems to be rather elusive and hard to track down thus far. 

[jeonsduck]

Messy

Incubus!San

Genre: Smut

Warnings: 18+ only, no minors. Dirty talk, oral sex, semi-public sex, cursing 

In your defense, it wasn't like San looked like a demon. Though you were quickly learning demons didn't look that different from humans anyway. Other than the forked tongue, horns, and cat-like tail, there was very little that marked San as 'demonic' physically. He didn't act much like a demon either, more like a very large child. He told you it was just a facade to attract prey (such as yourself). However, you suspected that his sunny disposition was just the default for him. But maybe the two week long barrage of intense wet dreams starring only San should have tipped you off. Especially considering, at the time you'd never even met San in person. But you put it down to it having been way to long since you last touched another human being in a romantic way, and decided to change that by going out. And maybe when the literal subject of your wet dreams appeared at the first bar you decided to hit up, that probably should have set off some warning bells. And maybe it did, but you ignored it becuase San was attractive and interested and well, San. And maybe there were other red flags, like the sharpness of his teeth, or the red glint in his eyes. (Or the sigil burned into the floor of his apartment, but it was dark and you were distracted, okay?) Whatever warnings you did or didn't miss didn't matter, because you still woke up in his bed the next day with his sigil carved into your hip. From that morning forward, your soul belonged to San. But not in a fire and brimstone kind of way, more like love bites and blowjobs. Anytime San got hungry (which was often), the sigil would glow red, and you'd start to feel his hunger. And it would keep building and building until he fed. In the beginning of your relationship, you'd been so freaked out you tried everything keep him at bay. But nothing worked. Not crosses, not exorcisms, not holy water, or even your threats to join seminary. "That would be kinky, but it wouldn't keep me away. I'm not that kind of demon." Theoretically, if you had ignored the pull long enough, the urges would have kept mounting leaving you completely insatiable and eventually insane. Ah, the old 'fuck or die', a true classic. So with no more ideas on how to get rid of San and a nearly constant need to get railed, you gave up and tried to make the best of your new position in life. "Look at it this way." San explained after he'd popped in for a 'snack' one afternoon. "It could be worse. If I was a vampire you wouldn't be having nearly as much fun." Which was true. You liked having sex with San, becuase he was fucking good at fucking you. (He liked to boast that no mere human could compare to one of his kind, but whatever.) What you didn't enjoy so much, was San's timing. He didn't quite understand arbitrary human things like responsibilites, and prior engagements, and public decency.  Like today, when he decided he was absolutely starving in the middle of your history lecture. You felt the sigil heat up and gasped. Seriously? Right now? You sneakily slipped your phone out of your bag and shot him a text. (Whay a demon had a phone, you didn't know, but at least it was convenient for you.)

You: You've gotta be kidding. Right now?

San replied almost immediately, like he'd been waiting for you message.

Demon Boy: Yes, right now! I'm hungry! :(((

You sighed and rested your head against your desk, trying not to scream. Was it getting hot in here already?

You: You fed on Monday. Anyway, I'm in class right now, can't you wait, like, 45 minutes?

Demon Boy: No, I can't, and it's not like you'll fail if you miss one class. -_-

You groan as silently as you can. San never had been one for delayed gratification.

You: Not this class! The professor will skin me alive if I'm not here for roll call and the attendance question at the end.

San takes a few minutes to reply this time, typing and retyping his response. The need you're feeling doesn't let up though and you end up squeezing your thighs together for some kind of relief.

Demon Boy: Oh it's THAT class. >:[ Demon Boy:.... You just need to be there for roll call and a question???

You squint at your phone. You don't like that, sounding like San is planning something. Never a good sign.

You: ....yeah? Why?

Demon Boy: I have an idea ;p

You: What do you mean? You: San, what are you talking about?! You: San, answer me! You: CHOI SAN

The second your last text goes through there's a soft 'pop!' and a puff of black smoke and San is suddenly reclining in the seat next to you. Thank God, you sit at the back of the class where no one can see your demon boyfriend spontaneously generate.

"What are you doing here?!" You hiss as San looks around the lecture hall. "So this is college. Gross. I can't understand why humans put themselves through stuff like this. As if Hell isn't a real place. Shouldn't you at least be happy while you're on Earth?" he drawls.

"Can I help you or did you just come to sit in on my lecture? I thought you were hungry." You snap and San's eyes flash red.

"Oh I am. Starving honestly. You never feed me on time." San pouts, playing with the drawstring on your hoodie.

"No, you're utterly insatiable, so there's no such thing as on schedule." You reply and San giggles.

"You're right about that. Now, this professor... where's his office?" San asks, looking up from under his lashes at you.

"The history building, second floor. Room 234, but why-" your question is cut off by the feeling of being sucked through a tube and spun around a G-Force simulator. "Jesus Christ San, I thought I told you to warn me becore you do that." You griped, stumbling into him.

"Sorry. Is this the right office?" He asked, holding out an arm to steady  you. You looked up to see that San had transport the both of you into your shitty professor's office.

"San what exactly are you planning to do?" You ask, suddenly nervous. "You." When San answers you can see he's let the illusion that hides his demonic appearance slip. Red eyes, stubby horns, sharp teeth, and his tail lashing behind him.

"No, I mean in here." You venture, even as San hoists you into his arms. He carries you around the desk, setting you down on the professor's side. He kisses you before he answers, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you gasp. He takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth a little before pulling back to answer you. "We are going to make a mess. All over your professor's desk." He says, trailing kisses down your neck. You arch into them and simultaneously try to push him away becuase oh hell no, you are NOT failing this class because of San. "Nope, no no no. You wanna eat? Fine, fuck me in the quad for all I care, but not in this office." you say, finally succeeding in removing San from where he'd been sucking a mark onto you collar bone.

San looked up at you, red eyes nearly glowing. He scoffs, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"I promise, we won't get caught. You won't fail because of this. Anyway, you don't want to show up that asshole? You don't want to get back at him for degrading you and calling you an idiot in this office?" San reasoned, but he sounded pissed.

"San, are you... mad at my professor?" You ask, coking your head to the side.

San pouts, but hides his face in the crook of your neck before you can properly see it. He wraps his arm around your waist and huffs. You loop your hands around his neck to return the hug. "You're perfect. Who the fuck does he think he is, insulting you?" He mumbles into your neck and you can't help but chuckle at him.

"Aww, you care about me." You tease but San pulls back and looks you in the eyes.

"Of course I care about you. I chose you in the first place. Now, do you want to keep being sappy or can I eat now?" He says, eyeing you up like a buffet.

You laugh, pulling him back into your arms.

"Let's make a mess."

As always, San started off gentle. He kisses his way down your sternum, slowly removing your shirt and then unbuttoning your jeans. You lift your hips to help him slip the pants off of your legs. At the same time, he placed a kiss above you bellybutton, glancing up to catch your eyes. Whenever San fucked you because he was hungry, he wasn't much for foreplay. It wasn't necessary because you've spent the last fiteen or so minutes just as desperate as he is. He held your eyes as he peeled off your underwear, chuckling as you lifted your hips up for him again. He put one of your legs over his shoulder and placed a kiss on your knee. The other thigh he splayed his fingers across, pinning it to the desk and leaving finger shaped bruises behind. He held you legs apart as he pressed another kiss to your inner thigh, slowly trailing closer and closer to where you really wanted him. San tended to enjoy overwhelming you, making you come again and again until he was tired of seeing your face contorted in pleasure. This often meant that he took his 'feeding' quite literally. You whined when he first licked over your hole, hands flying to your mouth to keep yourself quiet, lest any of the faculty come to see what's going on. San chuckled, licking another long stripe over you. "Always so sensitive." He hummed before continuing to eat you out like a starving man. Even with your hands covering your mouth, a good portion of your whimpers and moans made it out, filling to room with muffled desperate noises. San quickly became bored with just making you squirm and writhe with his tongue. He wanted you to cum. He moved the hand that was holding your thigh down to slip a finger into you alongside his tongue. You squealed at the sudden intrusion, clenching in surprise and San finally came up for air. "You would think after  a while maybe you wouldn't be so tight, but you never cease to amaze, do you babe?" You nodded absently, your head thunking back against the desk. San,continued to lick around his finger before adding another and crooking them both up, looking for that spot that woild make you see stars. Either becuase he was a sex demon or becuase you'd done this so many times he hit it straight on, making your back arch up off of the desk. "Does that feel good baby? Hmm? Do you like that?" He asked, smirking as you struggled to answer him. "Yes! Nng, fuck yes that feels good Sannie."  You moaned in response. "That's good baby. Are you gonna cum for me?" He asked, now pumping his fingers into you at a rapid pace. You nodded again, not trusting your voice as you barreled towards your orgasm. San chuckled, reaching with his other hand to tweak at your nipple. The sigil on your hip was pulsating almost in time with San's fingers as he worked to get you off. "Gonna-, gonna cum!" You managed to squeak out before your orgasm hit you. San fingered you through it, right up until you grabbed his arm to make him stop. He inhaled deeply, absorbing the sexual energy your orgasm gave off. He wasn't sure what it was about you, but you made feeding so much more delicious. After one orgasm technically you could have stopped. In fact, San cumming didn't give him any more energy at all. However, being full didn't mean he was finished with you. He peppered kisses over your chest and torso as you recovered from your first orgasm, leaning up at the end to catch you lips with his. His kisses worked to relax and distract you, and you didn't even know  he'd taken his pants off until you feel the head of his cock press against your entrance. You looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow but he jsut kissed your chin and said, "We agreed on making a mess." You snorted and slid your legs farther apart to give San better access. He slid into you in one slow thrust, his face scrunched up in pleasure as you sighed beneath him. He wraps his fingers around your waist, his thumb rubbing over the sigil as it started to glow again. "You know what?" He said, pulling back slowly and thrusting shallowly so you could adjust. "Hmm?" You wondered absently. "I don't think I could ever get tired of this. You feel so good, wet and tight on my dick.... perfect." He mused, finally giving you a thrust with some actual force behind it. You gasped, smiling. You weren't sure you'd ever get tired of San fuckimg you either. He setna moderate but rough pace, punching breathy little 'ah, ah, ah's' out of your mouth on every stroke. You clawed at his back, trying to find something to hold onto as he fucked you up the desk. "My baby makes such pretty noises when we fuck." San hummed, lazily rolling his hips into you just so he could hear you beg him to go faster. "Faster? Like this?" He asked pushing your knees back and pounding into you like a... well like a demon. "Yes! Ah, yes, just like that! Don't stop!" You cried, no longer worried about someone walking in on you. "That's silly, why would I stop when my baby feels so good?" San mused, leaning down to lick over your nipple. You were getting close again, and warned San of your approaching orgasm. "Mm, go ahead if you want to, but I'm not going to stop just because you cum. I want to get off too." He simpers and you're so jealous of his ability to speak coherently while fucking you into next week. But San is getting close too unable to keep the even rythym he set up at the beggining, jackhammering into you in order to chase his own orgasm. You cum first, bak arching off of the desk and your head rolling back with your mouth open in an 'o' shape. San isn't to far behind you, your cleching hole pulling his orgasm out of him.  You get to take all of three seconds to catch your breathe before the door to the office starts to open. "What the fuck is going on in here?" your professor asks, but by the time he's got the door fully open and enters the room, you and San have disappeared in a puff of black smoke. You do leave behind a stack of test papers and lecture notes covered in sweat and cum.

"You.promise he didn't see us?" You ask, for the fifth time. San sighs, rolling his eyes at you. "I promise. Don't worry about him anymore, okay?"

As it turns out, San was right. You didn't have to worry about that professor ever again. When the university cancelled your class the next week, some snooping revealed that your teacher had been fired from his position, after supposedly becoming a nymphomaniac overnight, getting arrested for public indecency over the weekend, and then being admitted for treatment for his sudden and acute sex addiction. The multiple cum soaked test papers in his office didn't help his case.

Demon Boy: Want to grab a snack?

[s-oulpunk]

Where Dreams Dwell, The Heart Calls Home (1/3)

Summary:

Stan never expected to see the Losers again, so when he runs into Eddie at his university's required omega course he is shocked and hurt. Everything he has worked so hard to bury comes flooding back. Most of all his jealousy. Unfortunately he is forced to hide his feelings from his new pack as Henry Bowers, his alpha, wouldn't be pleased to find out that Stan is longing for the past. In fact Stan's newly found feelings could bring about a lot more than just punishment if Henry were ever to discover them. Stan's only hope is escape, but can he turn to the pack that betrayed him so long ago? Can he face Bill?

Co-Written with @bound-to-be-british (or TheWeaverofWorlds on AO3)

TW: Physical abuse, emotional/psychological abuse, non-con

Read on AO3

Part One:

Stan arrived to class early. Although he wasn’t excited to be taking an Omega 101 class it was a reason to get away from his pack, and at this point anything was better than hanging around that fucking house. Besides arriving early had some other perks. For example he was able to choose from any seat he liked. He ended up picking a seat near the front of the lecture hall since it would look good to be sitting there attentively. Henry, he refused to call him his alpha, would like that.

Suddenly a familiar scent reached Stan, and all at once the memories he had worked so hard to bury began to resurface. He tried to school his response. Hopefully the other omega couldn’t smell his panic.

“Stan?” He could hear the disbelief and hope in the speaker’s tone.

Stan looked up to find Eddie Kaspbrack standing above him. Immediately his eyes searched the juncture of Eddie’s neck and shoulder looking for where Bill would have left his bonding mark. He was surprised to find Eddie’s skin unmarked. So they hadn’t bonded yet. He wasn’t even wearing a collar to show that he was promised to an alpha. Stan tried not to read too much into that. Instead he focused on what he must look like to Eddie: wearing long sleeves even though the heat of summer had yet to dissipate, a leather collar fastened tightly around his neck, dark circles under his eyes. What must Eddie think of him? What did the others think of him? He tried to push away the thoughts of his old pack and focused on the young man in front of him.

“Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie shifted his weight uncomfortably clearly trying to get a read on the situation without blatantly scenting Stan. It would be rude to just assume that because they had been close he would be allowed to do something so intimate. And besides there was something hostile in Stan. His posture was defensive. Closed off. Eddie wondered if living with Bowers had changed him, if he had become one of them. So Eddie stood just out of reach staring at the stranger who used to be one of his closest friends.

“Do you mind if I sit here?�� Eddie asked, gesturing to the seat beside Stan.

Stan shrugged before turning to look out the window.

Eddie tried not to sigh. He hadn’t been expecting to run into Stan. He wasn’t sure if he should start up a conversation or just let the awkward silence hang between them. With Stan turned away from him he was able to study the young man freely. Beyond the defensive posture there had been a haunted look in Stan’s eye. Eddie wondered if he was sleeping well. If Henry was treating him properly? The collar had been a shock. Eddie hadn’t expected to see Stan give in so easily. What was Bill going to think? Christ. Eddie was going to have to tell Bill about this. His thought began to run a mile a minute. He wondered how his pack’s leader was going to take Stan’s subservience to Henry. Oh God, Bill. What would he do in this situation? Eddie knew the answer. Bill would talk to Stan, demand answers. Only Bill wasn’t here. It was just Eddie. His breathing started to increase, soon he was going to need his inhaler. He realized that he needed to find out more, if only to bring peace of mind to his pack. He forced himself to calm down before starting with the obvious.

“So, Stan, how are things?” Eddie asked.

Stan was slow to respond. At first Eddie wasn’t sure if the other boy had heard him. Before he could ask the question again Stan turned in his seat to face Eddie.

“Why do you want to know?”

Eddie floundered a bit. He thought it was obvious, “because we’re friends.”

Stan let out a dry laugh. “Friends?”

“Yeah don’t you remember –”

“Yeah I remember. I remember a lot of things.” How you adored Bill. How he looked at you when he thought I wasn’t looking. How you all let Henry claim me. Stan began to smell the hurt souring his scent. He did his best to regain control over his emotions. After spending so much time with Henry he had gotten good at hiding how he was truly feeling. He began to disconnect from the conversation, slowly pulling the plugs until he had fully withdrawn into himself – like a small balloon floating in the wind – no longer a part of his body. He watched himself from the safety of his bubble and was sure that Eddie hadn’t picked up on a thing.

“Well then how are you?” Eddie asked.

“Fine.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re doing well.”

By now other students had begun to filter into the room. The inoffensive scent of the cleaning supplies began to be muddied by the other omegas. Stan noticed distantly that most of them were wearing collars. All of them forced into taking the class just so they could get a decent education before they were turned into mindless breeding machines. A class to teach them all about pleasing their alphas, how to handle their alphas’ ruts, how to carry litters to term, how to raise their pups. Stan began to feel his heart pound at the thought of carrying Henry’s pups inside him. The panic and fear that arose in him felt distant like it was happening to someone else. He focused on the balloon floating in his head. Here he was safe. Here it wasn’t happening to him, not really. It was some other version of him, his body, not the him that counted. Not the real him, the one that desired an alpha that cared for him. An alpha that would protect him, and show his pleasure through praise. Stan wanted to please that alpha so badly. He wanted that alpha to bond him and mate him. He needed to belong to an alpha that was strong enough to protect his pack and defend what was his. He wanted to carry that alpha’s litters, to be able to raise their pups together and to know that he was safe. While Henry might have control over the false-Stan, it was this ideal alpha that possessed the part of Stan that was really him. He had to believe in that otherwise he would have to accept the fact that Henry really was his alpha and that what was happening to him was real. To accept that would mean accepting death, and that was the one thing Stan wouldn’t allow.

Eddie watched as Stan zoned out in front of him. He was desperate to get the other boy’s attention. He had to find out more, but after the strange interaction which had just occurred he wasn’t sure what to say. He was aware of the other students filing in, the easy chatter filled the air. Determined to try again Eddie reached out. He placed his hand on Stan’s wrist causing the other boy to jump.

“Are you okay? You kinda spaced out on me,” Eddie said.

Stan pulled his hand away like he had been burned. He couldn’t let Henry or the others smell Eddie on him. “I’m fine.”

“Alright. You know the others miss you.”

Stan tensed in his seat.

“I bet if Richie were here he would make some dumb joke that would get you to roll your eyes, but you’d secretly love it. Or if it were Mike and Ben they would make you feel instantly comfortable, like no time had passed. You’d be conversing with them no problem. Or Beverly would know how to make easy conversation that wasn’t as awkward as I’m being right now. And Bill –”

“Don’t.” Stan gripped the desk tightly. The balloon in his head began trying to float closer to the  surface of his consciousness. His stupid omega hindbrain wanted to know what Eddie was going to say about Bill. It wanted to bask in the warmth and kindness of the alpha. Instead he reminded himself that Bill had abandoned him. He had chosen Eddie. The balloon full of hope retreated, deflating slightly at his vicious remarks. He was getting sloppy.

“Stan whatever is going on –”

“Nothing is going on.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Honestly it doesn’t matter what you think.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut.

Stan closed his eyes and let out a breath. “I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m just here to learn to be good. That’s all I want. No trouble. Okay?”

Eddie bit his lip. He wasn’t sure why the fire had gone out of Stan, but he didn’t like this side of Stan that was begging to be good. Begging to be left alone. It worried him. He would have preferred if Stan continued to fight back, at least then he would know that there was a part of Stan that could still fight back.

Before he could say more their professor stepped into the room.

Doctor Norbert Keene was a beta who had received his doctorate in omega studies. He believed that he knew what made the submissive species tick better than they did themselves. It was his responsibility to teach them to be obedient, good, little omegas in order that they might please their alphas. He looked out into a sea of collared throats and was pleased. Only one boy, sitting in the front row, was without a collar. He scanned down his attendance list and found that he knew the boy instantly.

Before the semester had begun one Kaspbrak, Edward had emailed him about signing up for the class. While it was required for all omegas to be full-time students to be registered for an omega-centric course, Mr. Kaspbrak had emailed to ask if it was really necessary to have an alpha sign off on his course load, arguing that it was archaic and backwards. Doctor Keene had replied to say that Mr. Kaspbak’s argument was proof enough that he needed to take this course, and that yes an alpha must sign off on it. If he didn’t like, Doctor Keene had written, then he could try to apply to another university; although, the admission deadlines had long since passed. Within a week Mr. Kaspbrak had signed up for the course, registered to a William Denbrough. Doctor Keene would need to keep an eye on him to ensure that he did not go poisoning the rest of his class with his ideas of equality.

His gaze drifted to the boy besides Mr. Kaspbrak. This boy’s eyes were downcast, head bowed slightly. A perfect specimen of his breed, perhaps if Mr. Kaspbrak was wise he would follow this student’s example.

“Good afternoon, class. I am Doctor Keene and this is Omega Studies 101. In this course we will be studying how your body chemistry is complementary to that of your alpha. This will lead us to discuss scenting, mating, and pair-bonding. We will also cover heats and ruts, as well as conception of litters, and pup rearing. While this is just an overview, I expect you to all take this course seriously. With the decline of omegas it is important that you breed with compatible alphas in order to save the species. This means you must have as many healthy litters as possible. Your duty to society is the bearing of pups. It is this important task that you are destined for, anything else is selfish.”

Eddie raised his hand.

“Mr. Kaspbrak?”

“I don’t think it’s selfish to want to be more than a receptacle for cum.”

Stan turned to stare. What the hell was Eddie thinking?

“That is enough, Mr. Kaspbrak.”

“Omega’s should have more rights than that. They should be able to take the classes they want without needing an alpha’s permission.”

The room stirred uneasily.

“Shut up,” Stan whispered.

“You should listen to your friend.”

“We’re not friends.” Stan said.

Now it was Eddie’s turn to stare.

“What’s your name?” Doctor Keene asked.

Stan flushed. “Stanley Uris.”

Doctor Keene looked down at his roster before turning his thin smile on Stan. “Very good, Mr. Uris.”

The praise sounded hollow at best. Stan ducked his head eager for attention to be drawn away from him. Doctor Keene marked a star by Mr. Uris’ name, he was going to make an example of this omega. It would be good for the others to learn from him. Mr. Bowers had clearly trained him well.

“Now ignoring the crude interruption we shall begin this lecture by talking about the alpha/omega dynamic. An alpha’s biology tells them that they must protect their pack at all costs, and above that all they must protect their omega. It is your scent which first draws your alpha to you, and it is your scent that tells them how you are feeling. Scent is a powerful thing. That is why it is rude to scent someone you don’t know well. It’s invasive. That’s something you’ve been taught since you were pups. But there is more to scenting than just finding out how someone is feeling.”

Stan began taking careful notes as Doctor Keene spoke. In his peripheral he could see Eddie leaning back in his chair, head raised defiantly. Clearly he was proud of not being collared, of having spoken up in front of the whole class. He didn’t even have the decency to have a notebook open in front of him. Stan wondered what Bill even saw in him.

“Scenting can tell you if your mate will make a good bond mate. The stronger and better your alpha’s scent is to you, the more likely you are bond mates. Bond mates are powerful things. Once an alpha has bitten your bonding gland it cannot be undone, you are tied to one another. These days bond mates aren’t as encouraged as they used to be. It is more important for packs to have litters, and if it needs to be via multiple alphas than so be it. Alphas may not like it, due to their possessive nature, but it is your duty to convince your alpha that it is necessary for the survival of the species.”

Eddie raised his hand.

Doctor Keene ignored him.

Eddie coughed.

“Yes?”

“Isn’t that dangerous for the omega?”

“Isn’t what dangerous for the omega?”

“Having so many partners in such a short time span?” Eddie wasn’t advocating for monogamy, he didn’t care if omegas chose to have multiple partners. What he was worried about was the pairings that were non-consensual. He knew that there were certain risks to the omega’s mental and physical health if they were forced to carry litters with multiple alphas with little time in between. The bond that formed between the alphas and omega would be torn away with each subsequent breeding leaving the omega emotionally unmoored and distant. On top of that there had been studies that said that occasionally alphas had rejected their omegas after they had been bred by another alpha. They no longer recognized their mate, and therefore rejected them from their pack. The only cases where this had not occurred was with bond mates; however, the recovery time for the omega was still a long one. And that didn’t even begin to cover the physical health risks of carrying multiple litters to term one after another.

“It’s about the survival of the species.” Doctor Keene said turning away dismissively.

“And what about the survival of those already living? Do we not matter?” Eddie asked.

Doctor Keene looked at Eddie. “Very well, Mr. Kaspbrak. Let’s try a little experiment. Tell me about your pack.”

“What?”

“How many omegas are there?”

Eddie looked to Stan before looking forward. “Just me.”

“I see. And what about betas?”

“We have three.”

“Alphas?”

“Two.”

Doctor Keene’s eyes lit up. “Two alphas, and only a single omega to bear the litter. Are you telling me that you wouldn’t submit to both your alphas should they require it?”

Eddie blushed for the first time, he looked away.

“Well?”

“I wouldn’t do it.”

“What was that?” Doctor Keene asked.

Eddie could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but the only pair that mattered belonged to the boy beside him. He looked directly at Stan as he spoke. “I wouldn’t mate with someone I don’t love.”

Eddie hoped that Stan understood, but all that was in front of him was an omega in pain. Eddie wondered what he had said that had hurt the other omega so badly.

Doctor Keene turned away. “What about you, Mr. Uris? Tell us about your pack.”

Stan snapped to attention. Eddie caught the barest traces of fear rolling off Stan before the other boy could hide it. 

“There are two alphas and two betas, sir.”

“And if your alphas required it, would you carry both their litters?”

“Yes.” Stan said not meeting Eddie’s gaze.

“As you should,” Doctor Keene said with all the kindness he possessed. He turned his attention back to the class. “This is what a good omega must do. Mr. Kaspbrak has been misinformed. There are no dangers to mating with multiple alphas.”

Eddie stared at Stan as Doctor Keene continued on with his lecture. The Stan he remembered had believed in bond mates ever since he was young. What had caused this reversal? Eddie wasn’t sure that he was equipped to find out. For some reason, Stan wasn’t willing to open up to him. He wondered vaguely what he could have done to cause the other boy’s apparent distrust. Eddie was sure the others could do a better job at getting Stan to open up. They had always been better at those sorts of things. He resolved to catch Stan before class was over and ask him over to the pack’s den.

Eddie tuned out the rest of Doctor Keene’s lecture. He had no interest in learning more about how scents could indicate oncoming heats or ruts. Instead he focused on Stan’s bent head, the neat notes in blue pen, and the inevitable invitation.

The bell rang signaling the end of class. No one moved or began packing up their things, Doctor Keene smiled. Perhaps they had been trained better than he expected.

“Please read the handout by Doctor Gray on the risks of untreated heats for next class. You are dismissed.”

The students began to pack up. Stan packed his things up swiftly, careful not to look at Eddie. Once he was done he hurried out of the classroom before Eddie had the chance to say anything. Eddie grabbed his backpack and hurried after Stan. He followed Stan through the halls until they were on the front steps of the building.

“Hey! Stan wait up!” Eddie said, running to catch up with him. He did his best to ignore the burning ache in his lungs.

Stan turned, absolute horror written across his face. “Stop following me.”

It became too much. Eddie gasped for air. He took a hit from his inhaler before speaking. “Look I just wanted to see if you wanted to come over? The others would love to see you.”

“I can’t.”

“Bill won’t even be there if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s got work until five,” Eddie said misinterpreting Stan’s tone.

“It’s not that. I have to get back and start making dinner for my pack.”

Eddie glanced at his watch. It was only 2 pm. “You have to make dinner for your entire pack?”

Stan nodded. “Belch is picking me up. You shouldn’t be talking to me when he gets here.”

“Okay, maybe some other time?”

Eddie watched Stan go down the steps. He knew that some omegas liked to prepare food for their alphas as a way to show they cared, but he hadn’t heard of an omega preparing food for their entire pack. Eddie thought that if his pack expected him to cook for all of them every day they would be shit out of luck. Lord knew Richie could eat enough alone to eat them out of house and home. Eddie’s inner omega perked up at the thought of preparing Richie’s meals. He pushed the enthusiasm away with disgust. Eddie watched as a restored 1958 Plymouth Fury pulled up to the curb. Stan got in the front seat without once looking back.

“Who the fuck were you talking to?” Belch asked once Stan was in the car.

“No one.”

Belch looked over at Stan and grunted, apparently they were done talking. Stan looked out the window and let the balloon float away.

Their apartment was cold.  No matter how much Stan tried to warm it up, no matter how many times he redecorated, no matter what he did.  It was always cold and gray and totally, horrifically empty.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stan can’t help but wonder what the Losers’ apartment looked like.  He was sure it was warm and homey and, immediately, he felt homesick for a place he’d never been.

He forced those emotions to the back of his head.  If he started to long for the Losers - if he started to long for Bill - he would crumble.  All the years he had spent building up a wall inside his head would have been for nothing.  He had spent enough time locking himself in the bathroom to cry when he was first forced into this god awful pack, he can’t go through that phase again.  It’s not like Bill had cried for him.

Belch didn’t say a word to him as they entered the apartment, instead going to slouch down on the couch and flip through the TV without ever settling on a channel.  The noise had driven Stan crazy when he first arrived, but by now it had become a welcome background noise.  Something to focus on without having to actually leave himself at the mercy of his own thoughts.

Vic came home next.  He didn’t spare Stan a glance, but made sure to loudly remind him, “I don’t like when you put olives in the pasta,” as he passed.  Which is a shame, because Henry would whine for days if Stan forgot the olives.

“Alright,” Stan replied, if only because Vic would tattle to one of the alphas if he didn’t.

He set about making a separate batch for Vic, this one free of olives.  Bitterly, Stan couldn’t help but think to himself how easy it would be to just pick out the goddamned olives.  But Vic had reminded him over, and over, and over again that the taste supposedly lingers even with the olives removed.

“It’s really just easier if you make a separate batch,” he had said.

Stan couldn’t help but disagree, though he kept this opinion very much to himself.

Patrick came home a few minutes later.  Stan didn’t hear him, so much as pick up a whiff of something rotten and decaying before a pair of hands were gripping his hips, pulling him swiftly against Patrick’s chest.

“What’re you making?” Patrick asked, smirking.

“Pasta salad,” Stan said.  He pried at Patrick’s fingers, but it only caused Patrick to tighten his grip.  Huffing, Stan reminded him, “You have to let me go.  I can’t let the food burn.”

“But I had such a hard day,” Patrick said, lips twisting into a pout.  His breath was hot against Stan’s neck, just above the collar, and a few years ago Stan would have cringed away from the rancid smell.  But he knew better now.

“I’m sorry,” Stan said.  The words seemed to drain the rest of the fight out of him, the husk of the man he once was going limp in Patrick’s grip.

Patrick hummed. “Good Omega.”

For a single, mortifying moment, Stan found himself basking in the praise.  But the feeling was quickly squashed under the reality of his situation, replaced by an icy cold feeling.  It invaded his veins, freezing his blood and numbing his extremities. All he had ever wanted was to be good. But he had wanted to be good for an alpha who loved him. An alpha who would protect him.  An alpha who saw him as more than just a living fuck toy.

Patrick was not that alpha.

One hand traveled up and off Stan’s hip, fingertips slipping under the hem of Stan’s shirt instead.  The touch made Stan shudder, and for a moment fear came rolling off him in waves.  He quickly schooled his emotions back into check, but it was enough for Patrick to know.  Which always made it worse.  Stan was positive Patrick fed off Stan’s fear, that anything and everything he did to him was just to see Stan’s eyes widen and heartbeat quicken.

The door slammed open a moment later.  Henry’s familiar scent came wafting through the apartment, and immediately Stan lifted his head to give Henry his best help me eyes.

Unfortunately, Henry was not his saving grace.  His shoulder came to rest against the kitchen doorway, his eyes watching Patrick toy with Stan with something akin to amusement.

“You go to the omega class today?” he asked.  No, not asked, confirmed.  Henry had always had the fear that Stan would run off or abandon the pack.  Stan supposed Henry had good reason for his fears, Stan had spent a good amount of time daydreaming about disappearing in the dead of night and showing up on the Losers’ doorstep.  In his imagination, they would welcome him with open arms and swear to protect him from Henry.  But he had never acted on these daydreams, and soon they became too painful to even think about.

Stan nodded. “Yes.” Henry’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his hairline.  It’s obvious what Henry wanted, and though it made Stan sick, he forced himself to swallow his pride and continue, “Yes, Alpha.”

Henry smirked, clearly pleased by Stan’s obedience. “How was it?”

“Fine,” Stan said. “Just introduction stuff.”

“Right, well, I’m expecting it to fix you up.” The way Henry said it, plain as day, as if there was something wrong with Stan, made shivers run down Stan’s spine.  There was something innately cruel about Henry’s voice.  Something that made Stan want to run and hide.

It was that cruelness that had made Stan cower from him in high school.  But a few months alone in an apartment with Henry had taught Stan not to cower.  It had fixed him right up.

“It will,” Stan promised. “I’ll be good.”

He glanced nervously towards the pasta.  Henry sighed, gesturing for Patrick to release him.

Stan bolted out of Patrick’s arms, nearly tripping over his own two feet in his haste to return to the pasta.  Luckily, the pasta had not burned yet.  But as Stan was rushing to pour the potfull into the strainer, he passed directly by Henry.  He had barely made it a step before Henry grabbed his wrist, holding him firmly in place.

“What’s that smell?”

Stan eyed him nervously. “What smell?”

Henry sniffed the air.  Brought Stan’s wrist closer to his nose.  Sniffed again. “It’s sort of fruity.”

“Must be someone in my class,” Stan shrugged, doing his best to keep his face blank.

For a single, horrifying moment, Stan was sure he had been found out.  Henry knew about Eddie, Henry knew he had gone against his wishes and spoken to them.  Henry knew-

Henry dropped his wrist. “Must be.” He glanced at the pot still gripped between Stan’s hands. “Hurry up, I’m starving.”

-

The Losers’ apartment was filled with a warm glow.  Upon moving in, they had all taken the time to decorate accordingly.  Pictures of the six of them adorned the walls, various decor scattered throughout the rooms.  Richie had even managed to find a leg lamp similar to the one in A Christmas Story, which he proudly displayed in front of the window in their living room.  Their apartment, even if it was perhaps a tad too small for all six of them, had quickly become their happy place.

Currently, Mike and Ben were laying across each other on the couch; Bev, on the floor next to the couch, leaned happily against it as she played a rather aggressive game of footsie with Richie, who was sitting on the floor against the cushy armchair in the corner.  Curled up on said chair was Eddie, watching his pack with a fond smile on his face.  They had all had their first days today and, much to Eddie’s dismay, none of the others had quite an unfortunate encounter as he had had with Doctor Keene.

Ben’s architecture class had left him with the biggest grin Eddie had ever seen aside from every single time he looked at Beverly.  Mike’s history course had caused him to immediately set out to find the campus library, checking out enough books to last him a month.  Bev’s fashion and design professor had told her she was the most talented student she had seen in nearly a decade.  Richie’s theatre professor had applauded him for his natural outspokenness and go-getter attitude.  And Bill...Bill hadn’t been seen since that morning.

On one hand, Bill’s absence was a blessing.  If Bill wasn’t around, Eddie wouldn’t have to worry about his reaction to Stan being in Omega 101.  On the other hand, it would be nice to have a welcoming pair of arms to dive into, ones that he knew he could let his guard down around.  And while he would love for Richie to be the one he turned to, the very thought of being vulnerable around the alpha was terrifying.

He had always felt something more for Richie.  Something that made his heart beat a little faster

and palms a little sweaty.  And if he allowed himself to crawl into his arms, how long would it be before he came running to him for every little problem.  And from there, how long until Richie started to see him, much like Doctor Keene did, as a cum bucket useful for nothing but the next litter of pups.

No, it was too risky.  No matter how many times Richie made him laugh until his sides hurt.  No matter how many times he made him smile so wide he was sure his face would crack in half.  No matter how many times he seemed to prove, over and over again, that he saw Eddie as his equal.  Eddie couldn’t risk losing all that.

Bill was his friend.  Bill wouldn’t expect anything from him.  Bill wouldn’t judge him for being weak.

But, back to more important problems.  Stan.  Stan had been in Omega 101.  Stan was here.  Stan was here and he was miserable.

Of course Eddie wanted to help him.  He wanted to help him more than anything.  But there were factors that had to be considered, factors that needed to be thought out before he dumped it on his friends.

Even if Bill wasn’t around, even if Eddie didn’t have to worry about his reaction.  He still had to worry about Richie’s reaction.  Richie who had lost his best friend.  Richie who had only recently come to terms with it.  Richie, who was currently animatedly describing his first day of classes.

“And we had to buy a whole book about this Meisner guy, he apparently, like, invented theatre or something-”

“No way he invented theatre,” Mike said, wiggling his toes in Ben’s face.  The other boy screwed up his face in disgust, trying to bat away Mike’s feet. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Okay, he didn’t invent it,” Richie said. “But he did invent this whole technique.  It basically reinvented everything about acting-”

“You’re not even gonna be an actor, Chee,” Eddie said, not bothering to hide his laughter.

Richie turned to face him, a wide and easy grin spread across his face. “Hey, you don’t know that.  I could be the next Ryan Gosling.”

Eddie only laughed harder. “No way!”

“Yes way!  Just you watch, I’m gonna bring home my first monologue and it’ll be so sexy you’ll slick your pants right here in the living room.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s disgusting,” Eddie said, the wrinkle of his nose making Richie dissolve into giggles. “Second of all, that’s not how acting works.”

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t know, would you?” Richie grinned. “You’re not taking theatre.”

“Yeah, instead I’m taking fucking Omega 101 with Doctor Keene.” Eddie spat out the professor’s name like it was poison, his face screwed up as if it had left a bad taste in his mouth.

All sense of humor immediately dissolved from Richie’s face.  It had always been a mystery to Eddie how he did that, going from cracking jokes at Eddie’s expense to looking like he would burn down the world for him. “Class didn’t go so well, huh?”

Eddie shook his head. “The professor’s an asshole.  One of those people who thinks omegas are nothing but breeding machines.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Bev piped up. “You’re not just some fucking machine.”

“Yeah, well, apparently that isn’t what a majority of the population thinks,” Eddie said, doing his best not to sound bitter.  Apparently he didn’t do a very good job, because a moment later Richie laid his head on Eddie’s thighs, his hand wrapping around Eddie’s calf and his thumb rubbing soothing circles along the skin.

“You only have to be there for one semester,” he said.  The soft tone of his voice sent a jolt through Eddie, spiking through his heart and pooling in his stomach. It took everything in him to keep from purring. “After that you can happily tell this Doctor Keene to go fuck himself, and you’ll be a free man.”

Eddie chuckled quietly, admittedly soothed by Richie’s...everything. “I wish it was that easy.”

“Sorry, Eddie,” Mike said, a rather sad smile gracing his lips. “You know, just because they say all that, it doesn’t mean it’s true.

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie mumbled. “But it’s awful to hear.  And most of the omegas in that class are going to believe it!  Including-”

The words were swept from his mouth by the sound of a door swinging open.  The entire pack seemed to perk up at the sound, Bill’s scent wafting in from the doorway.  A moment later he grinned down at them, looking exhausted but otherwise happy to be in their presence.

“Long day?” Ben asked.

Bill nodded. “My English professor’s a dick.  And I had the worst customer come in to work.”

“My professor’s a dick too!” Eddie cried out, the words stumbling out of his mouth before he could think of a way to break the news to Bill.

Bill just groaned, collapsing on the chair next to Eddie. “Tell me about your dick professor.”

Richie snorted loudly. “Dick professor-”

“Shut up!”

Richie yelped as Eddie drove his foot playfully between Richie’s ribs. “Hey, Bill said it, not me.”

“That is not what he meant.  Is it, Bill?”

But Bill was no longer focused on anything Richie or Eddie had said.  Instead his eyes were staring down at Eddie’s wrist, eyebrows pinched and nose wrinkled, like he was trying to recall some far away memory from the deep, dark depths of his brain.

The scent was faint, nearly impossible to catch a whiff of in the crowded room. But it was familiar; like fresh basil in a backyard garden, ripe for the picking. Honeysuckle flowers that used to thread through the school playground, sweet and fragrant. Fesh rain, first thing in the morning.

There was something underneath it too. Something acetic. It was fear, which set off all of Bill’s alpha instincts. He needed to find this unknown omega, to soothe them. His alpha hindbrain whined, itching to take them away, to tear them from whatever - or whoever - was hurting them. And because Bill had always been a romantic at heart, an image of wrapping this strange omega in his pack’s fluffiest blanket, covering them in his own scent, suddenly invaded his brain. He would set them down on the couch, give them a cup of hot tea, wrap his arms around them, and play with their hair until they fell asleep. He could picture nosing the omega’s scent gland, causing a release of happy omega endorphins that would calm them both down. The mere thought of pleasing the omega was more than enough to cause a rumble of pleasure deep in Bill’s chest. The more he thought about it the clearer the picture became. The mystery omega in his fantasies wasn’t so strange after all. He had looked exactly like,

“Ss-Stuh-Stan?” he said suddenly.  His eyes darted up to lock with Eddie’s, looking as shocked as Eddie felt at the return of his stutter. “You ss-saw Stan?”

Immediately the warm feeling that had been surrounding them seemed to be sucked out of the room, replaced with a thick, suffocating air that crushed Eddie’s lungs and squeezed his air pipe.  He opened his mouth to answer, let out a loud gasp instead, and went scrambling for his inhaler.

No one spoke a word as he took a puff.  Two.  Three.

Finally, he forced himself to look Bill dead in the eye.  He nodded.

“What?” The force of Richie’s voice made Eddie flinch, jumping back until his back was flat against the chair. “You saw Stan?  And you didn’t tell us?”

“I was going to tell you,” Eddie said. “I just didn’t know how.”

“Is he oh-okay?” Bill asked.

“Oh, please,” Richie sneered.  It was so different from the Richie Eddie’s used to, it damn nearly sent Eddie scrambling for his aspirator again. “As if you care.”

Bill’s eyes turned steely, turning to face Richie with two tiny fires in their place. “What does that mean?”

“We all know why Henry claimed him.” The venom in Richie’s voice was like a punch to the gut.  Eddie could nearly see it, falling from his lips with every word. “Why he chose him over Eddie, and why he was able to get away with it.”

Bill didn’t answer.  His eyes were locked with Richie’s, an icy glare seeming to freeze over his expression. Eddie was suddenly reminded of when their pack first formed, their seventh member freshly lost and the two alphas constantly at each other’s throats.  He couldn’t let this come between his friends again.

“We can help him,” Eddie said hopefully. “Things can be different this time.  We can make them better.”

Still, there was no answer from either of the alphas.  After perhaps the longest few seconds of Eddie’s life, Bill finally slipped off the chair and stood in front of the pack, hands awkwardly clenched by his side and glare locked on the far wall.

“I’m going to start on dinner,” Bill mumbled.

Richie’s shoulders slumped as Bill exited the room, and he only returned his gaze to Eddie once Bill was completely gone from his vision. “What happened?”

“Is he okay?” Mike repeated the question from earlier, concern written all over his face.

Slowly, Eddie shook his head.

[caffeinatedcake]

Tips to Succeed as a Pre-Med

Hi Guys! I’m currently finishing up my final semester of pre-med classes and am getting ready to prepare for the MCAT. I learned so much through these past 2 years and thought it would be fun to compile a list of all the lessons, tips, and tricks that allowed me to maintain a high GPA (3.8)!!

Some background information about me:

Major: Psychology

Minor: Chemistry and Biology

Commitments:

Division III student-athlete: 20-30 hours a week

Executive board for my sorority: 5-10 hours a week

Cabinet position for Phi Delta Epsilon: 2-3 hours a week

Tips:

At the beginning of the semester look through every single class syllabus and note all the dates for exams, papers, projects, or assignments. I put all of these dates into my online calendar and made sure to have reminders for all of them. My semesters get extremely busy so keeping track of dates helped me stay on top of my work and manage my time in the best way possible.

Ask upperclassmen and other students for help, especially when it comes to scheduling classes or writing lab reports. The reason I’m able to take my MCAT early is because I spent a month asking various upperclassmen in different majors what their schedules were like, what professors were the best, which professors to avoid, and their study tips so I would not have to retake any classes. Along with this, upperclassmen tend to hold onto class materials from previous years (old exams, lab reports, syllabi, etc.). These resources could help you gain a better understanding of a specific professor’s exams, how to write a cohesive lab report, or better understand the structure of a class. 

Fight for EVERY POINT. I know this sounds annoying but in the end, you don’t want to miss a grade by 1 or 2 points that you could’ve gotten back. A lot of the classes I got As in were actually by the thinnest of margins and it was mainly because I was willing to fight for points I thought I deserved. It definitely makes you come off as that classic, annoying pre-med student but at the end of the day your grades are important to some degree.

Figure out a study strategy that works for you! Quality over quantity! You don’t want to be wasting hours studying inefficiently because classes get tougher and more time-consuming. Knowing your preferred study methods is super important because of how much time it will save you! I personally read the textbook, hand-write my notes, and use Quizlet RELIGIOUSLY! Some of my friends only need to attend a lecture and then do practice problems consistently. The faster you figure out how you like to study the more time it will save you in the long run!

Pick a major that you will genuinely enjoy. Pre-med core classes are difficult and can be taxing. It helps to take classes that you actually enjoy along with these classes, or pick a major that you know you will like because that will lessen the burden. I picked psychology because I loved the subject in high school and because the department was extremely friendly at the university I attend. Since I find my psychology classes extremely interesting, it makes studying for a bland class like Physics way easier because I know I have something fun to look forward to. 

Schedule time to do things other than just work. The biggest mistake I made freshman year was studying too much and focusing on activities that would boost my resume. My grades actually improved when I cut down on the studying and constant working and decided to schedule a weekly day off. During this day I would spend time with friends, catch up on sleep, or just vegetate. Maintaining your hobbies and passions is super important because then you will have other things to focus on and you won’t get burnt out!!

Remember that a bad grade doesn’t define you. This year was the year I failed my first exam and while it was tough to get over, I tried my best to use it as motivation to do better on the next exam. I try to think of every negative event in my life as a learning lesson and that exam taught me that I needed to change my studying habits for that specific class.

There are multiple paths to medicine. I think people put too much of an emphasis on the traditional route, where you graduate in 4 years and then go straight into medical school. Even though I’ll be taking my MCAT early, I’m also open to taking a gap year to work in research or scribe! I love the surge of youtube videos and stories made by people who have non-traditional paths because it shows you that hard work and perseverance will lead you in the right direction for you, whether that is medicine or not.

Please remember that these are the lessons I’ve learned through my experience at a competitive pre-med school and that all of these might not necessarily apply to everyone. If you guys have any more questions about pre-med don’t hesitate to reach out to me, I’d be more than happy to help!

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 2283

i did a bunch of work today. kinda exhausted.

i attended and took notes in class, i cleaned my room and went through my wardrobe to get rid of stuff in the first real clothing purge of the last like five years, and then i did all of the assignments that were due for earth science before 6pm, which was weird for me bc i usually do them after everything else during the day. but i had time, so i did them early. i also listened to two sections of math lecture, so i can do homework for that section tomorrow, and maybe get a head start on the rest of my exhaustive list of homework for each day of the rest of the semester. quite literally, i made a list. numbered it, put in all of my assignments and when i'd do them, so i have it all laid out in front of me so i can keep to the schedule, because if i fall behind any more i will not finish the semester. but i have to, and i have to have something to show to my professor tomorrow to let her know i'm not giving up, but that instead it's my mental inertia that is really preventing me from being productive. mental inertia is what i'm calling my brain's unwillingness to do a single fuckin thing on any given day. because of the definition and practical understanding of inertia, it means though that if i want it to move, i have to move it myself. i have to push it. because that's really what i'm dealing with - an unwilling blob of disaster that has a decent ability to function if it ever gets off its ass. so i need the motivation to push that blob until it starts sliding. lots of principles of physics here: inertia, forces, static and kinetic friction. yknow, the drill.

anyway, i'm proud of myself for today, even though it feels like i missed doing stuff. breaking things down into specific details helps me, so having a day-by-day calendar that goes line by line telling me what i need to do on a given day will help me push my dumbass brain into gear. it's a variation, i suppose, on the block method of task organization andrew tells his clients about. sticky notes worked for a semester. a detailed planner worked really well for a semester. so now, straight-up pads of paper will have to work for the rest of the semester. i need to rotate my methods so i don't get complacent and ignore things, like i can easily do if things are uniform and are exactly the same. which is why a list is easier i guess, because yes it's all supposed to look the same, but it's a different visual thing than a wall of brightly-colored sticky notes that end up blending into the faded yellow wall. which is a problem i have. so. i'd like to go back to the planner thing, but that also worked best when i was on campus and not stuck at home for school stuff.

also i talked to joel a little bit today. sort of a normal interaction: he asked me if i wanted to fight, i begged for death, he said no, i said why, he gave some bullshit answer, then we changed the topic. kinda funny tbh, that's sort of our way of checking in on each other. it allows me to actually tell him how i'm feeling, and while he doesn't give up much information himself, a lot of it is supporting me and my nonsense and buffoonery as i simply exist as a ball of Anxiety™ that stress-cleans and vibrates in place as i contemplate the tasks i must complete. today was an anxiety day, so i told him. [it's nice to tell someone things about my emotional state and for them to take me and what i say at face value instead of trying to break me down into pieces of "drama" and "not drama," because that's what my mom does. if i feel too much, her first response is "what's real and what's drama," or "you're being dramatic," or some other equally bullshit gaslighting of my emotional state that's fuckin fragile in the first place. like, listen linda. "what's real" all of it. "what's drama" none of it, you moldy peach pit. i feel what i feel, and you are not allowed to tell me that what i'm feeling isn't real, so shut your mouth and sit the fuck down, you melted stick of unsalted butter.] but yeah. joel actually listens and i love the shit out of him for it.

and lastly, i watched a christmas movie. by myself. before thanksgiving. but. in my defense, it was about a struggling writer at a writing conference who ends up repeatedly unknowingly bumping into the keynote speaker, a published author of whom she happens to be a fangirl in increasingly embarrassing situations at first. and then they're paired as writing buddies for the conference, and he gives her pointers and they banter and work together and it's just really cute and the Drama occurs when he's trying to tell her he's the author but she keeps rushing to go somewhere and it's the keynote and the author walks in and it's HIM. THE DRAMA. THE BETRAYAL. THE YEARNING. and then he comes to her dad's house and surprises her on christmas day with a letter from a publisher bc her revised copy of her manuscript was really good bc of all the help he gave her and the experiences they shared and all the good stuff and she said it was basically a happy ever after, to which he replied, "i guess it is." and then she says, "so kiss me already," and points to the mistletoe above them and it's SO CUTE AND SWEET AND I ALMOST CRIED.

but anyway, i feel like a hypocrite because christmas!! shouldn't!! happen!! before!! thanksgiving!! that's!! a!! rule!! and i HATE IT when people put up christmas decorations in early november, but at this point i'm accepting that it's something that gives people joy so i really shouldn't step on that. it's just. learning to accept that people enjoy certain things and i should encourage them instead of rag on them for it. i'm not perfect. i'm still learning. and i want to be a kinder person to people, more loving and accepting and supportive, and i'm slowly overcoming my own hatred of things as i grow and distance myself further from the shit that made me this way. i'm learning! if i make a mistake please tell me gently, because i want to be better but i also have RSD and i WILL shut down and tear myself down forever if i am told harshly bc that's just how i am. i'm trying to get over it a little at a time by accepting things as time goes on, but in the meantime i need help. so that's all, i guess.

thanks for reading and for caring, i love you guys and i hope you're enjoying things that being you joy, even if other people give you shit for it. i will do my best to support you!

also if you're in the US and are of voting age and are registered and haven't already voted, GO VOTE TOMORROW. some states have same-day registration, so bring an ID and go register if you need to. this election will determine our futures - i know so many of us are in circumstances that would be harmed if we had another four years of the racist orange peel in office now, so i know many others who may straight-up die because of it. we need protections. we need to have our rights protected. we need to have our lives protected. and we can't do that with the damaged candy corn in office for any longer. he'a already fucked with us enough. we can't afford any more of it. now i'm just angry ranting. please, go vote for joe biden. politics is like public transit: if there's no train going exactly where you need to go, you don't just not get on the train. you take the one that gets you the closest, and work your way from there. that's joe biden. and, if biden does indeed win, our fights aren't over. we have people we need to protect from the conservatives and racists and white supremacists that exist goddamn everywhere. we need to keep reminding people that it's our responsibility to take care of one another in every way we can. there's a laundry list of things that needs to be fixed; unfortunately they won't happen all at once. so we have to keep fighting, no matter who's in office. VOTE.

VOTE.

[dasklaus]

Random things I did or that happened:

- I met my nephews. The little one (6 months) was very easily amused to the point that he stopped crying the moment I sat down near him, and kept staring at me. Granted, I made a lot of guinea pig noises the first day. The older one (2.5 years) only knows me from pictures (last I saw him he was as young as the little one), but his parents prepared him with photos, and talking about the family members he'll get to meet. This resulted in him calling out exuberantly "UNCLE KLAUS!!!" when seeing me, then jumping up and running from the room. This repeated several times over the next days - announcing my presence enthusiastically, then going somewhere else, doing his thing. I think people should learn from this example, this has been the best interaction I have had in my entire life. Everyone should be this happy to see me and then fuck off and leave me in peace.

- My favourite class of the last semester was Cognitive Linguistics. I want more of that. There's a Cognitive Science Master's in Berlin that I'm flirting with, though I have no idea if I could stand being away from my partner for 3-4 months at a time. Also unsure whether they might have early morning classes with compulsory attendance, something I have only ever managed by living with people who made sure I got up (which made me generally dysfunctional, unhappy and sick) and/or staying awake for them, then sleeping (which also has bad side effects).

- I had some ADD diagnostics done and the result was inconclusive, or so they say. I got to read the report and the questionnaires seem to point in that direction pretty clearly? I got the option to return in November to go through some more tests. Seriously considering getting some Ritalin from drug dealers on my own to see whether it helps my concentration and general executive function. Other results were mild anxiety, no depression, no psychiatric disorder, no personality disorder, and fluid and cristalline intelligence scores I can't talk about without bragging.

- The plan was to get a cat after the dog died, but no sooner than half a year later, to get to live pet-free for a while. This time was supposed to be used for going out together and traveling at least once, things that weren't really possible with that dog. Then came the lockdown and both going out and traveling were off the menu. Now I'm hesitating because ... Berlin. Maybe. But part of me is screaming “It’s been six months, where’s my cat??”

- I plan to get my driver's license, though I haven't taken steps to do so yet. Talking with my partner about where we'd go on holiday if we were to go at all, living in a rented car for a week going wherever we feel like was the single idea that we were both excited about. I feel a bit bad about that because I hate cars so much.

- Studying from home was much easier than I expected. I don't really want to go back. I really hope the recent uptick in cases is enough to sway the university to keep everything digital for the next semester, too.

- I got a student assistant job filming and uploading lectures next semester. I don't even need the money, but I want the opportunity to socialize with the professors. They tend to leave the video calls the moment they wrap up the class, no staying behind and asking questions, no chatting with classmates ... they can't run from me when I run the show. Ha!

- I remodeled a lot of my apartment, adding a whole bunch of furniture. This was a really pleasant past-time and I want more of it. Just one to five hours a day of drilling holes, screwing screws, sawing and hammering and measuring and putting things in place. I miss physical labor.

- Thinking of potential topics for my Bachelor thesis, I keep coming back to the problem of universals. There are some opportunities there for delving into neurology, linguistics, psychology, and as long as I compare contemporary science with Plato or Kant or whomever here and there I should get away with that. It's kinda funny that I set out to study philosophy with the mindset of "No, I swear, this stuff is relevant" and might end up at "Are plurals real?"

[strawberryblossom00]

The Predicament of Virtual Learning

It was Friday, March 13th. The bell rang, and the halls of my high school were brimming with chatter as usual- save for one major difference. There were no discussion of after-school hangouts, or basketball practice, or the absurd amount of homework assigned for the weekend; all conversation has turned to one topic only: school is out, possibly for good. I had no idea, back then, that walking out of my seventh period classroom was a one-way trip.

Now, the classroom is dissolved, at least in a traditional sense. Coronavirus drove students and teachers into their homes, and with that shift came the movement from physical to virtual learning. However, this movement came with several problems, including a less effective curriculum, lack of crucial access for some, and invasive anti-cheating methods. The impact that COVID-19 has had on education is widespread, and it appears to not be leaving anytime soon. As an Ohio arts teacher phrases it:

“I’m depressed and I miss my students. I can’t connect well this way.” (Education Week, 2020)

Teaching Through a Screen: Zoom and Video Call Fatigue

Viewing fellow students and/or teachers through a screen adds an impersonal touch that leaves many unmotivated and anxious. The awkward silences and glitchiness of online education builds up over time, leading to video call fatigue, as Kate Murphy of the New York Times explains:

“The problem is that the way the video images are digitally encoded and decoded, altered and adjusted, patched and synthesized introduces all kinds of artifacts: blocking, freezing, blurring, jerkiness and out-of-sync audio. These disruptions, some below our conscious awareness, confound perception and scramble subtle social cues. Our brains strain to fill in the gaps and make sense of the disorder, which makes us feel vaguely disturbed, uneasy and tired without quite knowing why.” (Murphy, 2020)

A virtual classroom makes it incredibly difficult to read facial and body language, and an entire day of nothing but hurdling over problems is almost certain to lead to exhaustion. This exhaustion bleeds into student and teacher performance alike; attempts to account for lower quality work with pass/fail systems and relaxed grading scales only temporarily alleviate the issue, as months of Zoom calls means a degraded learning experience as a whole.

And, on another note, what of the students that can’t access the internet at all?

Essential Workers and Essential Education Don’t Mix

For low-income students that depended on outside locations to have access to wi-fi, as well as workers deemed essential during the crisis, online schooling has presented additional obstacles to learning.

I was fortunate enough to attend a high school where each student was assigned a laptop to use, but in poorer areas and for college students without the luxury of designated equipment, access to a computer or even a stable internet connection is much more scarce. On top of the struggle to comprehend material through a screen rather than in person, there is the constant question of how to connect to Zoom meetings, submit assignments, etc.

“The absence rate appears particularly high in schools with many low-income students, whose access to home computers and internet connections can be spotty. Some teachers report that fewer than half of their students are regularly participating.” (Goldstein, Popescu, Hannah-Jones, 2020)

Even prior to the pandemic, some were at a disadvantage due to their economic situation. Now, especially with the unemployment rate skyrocketing past fourteen percent, the highest in U.S. history according to tradingeconomics.com, more and more families are burdened with financial stress that make affording internet near impossible. For those that remain in the workforce, the long hours required of them during the crisis has introduced a new hurdle to scheduled meetings and even simply making time for assignments. Teacher Michelle Martin-Sullivan paints a vivid image of her problems trying to reach students:

“Many of her students are essential workers at stores like Walmart and have begun picking up extra shifts to support their families. Other students, as well as some teachers, don’t have internet access at all.” (Markus, 2020)

The strain of juggling work and school proves overwhelming for some, and an inability to access wi-fi doubles the load. To put it simply, switching to a pass/fail grading system is at best putting a bandaid on a gunshot wound. The wealth gap is proving fatal to the education of low-income students, and even for those who can enter their virtual classrooms, a matter of privacy comes into question...

Did We Not Learn Anything From 1984?

Now, Zoom and test proctors are far from Orwell’s terrifying surveillance state, but the point of individual privacy and discomfort of being watched still stand. Zoom has been faced with criticism over its security and privacy practices from the moment it exploded in popularity at the front end of the pandemic, but even as the service has addressed these concerns, one major flaw continues to present itself: for free users, end-to-end encryption of data will not be offered. As explained by Wired’s Lily Hay Newman:

“End-to-end encryption allows data to move between devices in a form that is unreadable to anyone other than the recipients—protecting the information in transit from snooping by your internet service provider, the government, or communication platforms themselves.” (Newman, 2020)

On top of Zoom ‘hackers’ infiltrating calls and potential for sensitive information to be stolen, the company seems to be more concerned with profitability than the safety of its users.

Post-lecture, many teachers and professors have taken to using proctoring software/services such as Examity or Proctorio to discourage cheating. However, both algorithmic and live proctors suffer from drawbacks. Using a machine to detect cheating may initially seem productive, but based on how the a.i. was trained, there could be a bias in favor of certain skin tones, face shapes, etc. as experienced by a University of Washington student and described to Rebecca Heilweil:

“...the tool’s facial detection algorithm seemed to struggle to recognize them, so they needed to sit in the full light of the window to better expose the contours of their face, in their view an indication that the system might be biased.” (Heilweil, 2020)

In a separate article, Heilweil explains this trained bias in more detail.

“Often, the data on which many of these decision-making systems are trained or checked are often not complete, balanced, or selected appropriately, and that can be a major source of — although certainly not the only source — of algorithmic bias.”

Human proctors, on the other hand, are widely viewed as an invasion of privacy by students. Having a teacher walk around the room during the exam is quite different than this virtual ‘equivalent,’ where students are monitored one-on-one. As if exams weren’t stressful enough, test-takers must additionally try not to alert the proctor, who is watching them for the entirety of the exam, to potentially suspicious behavior such as eye movement or whispering. As Jackson Hayes from the University of Arizona phrases it:

“’Every student I know finds this the creepiest thing ever,’ Hayes says. On his campus, he finds, ‘the predominant feeling towards Examity is ‘Screw this.’” (Chin, 2020)

Orwell is laughing in his grave, as far as I’m concerned.

 All this is to say...

Through the mess of virtual learning, it is beyond troublesome for students to get the education they (or their parents) are paying for. Despite this, though, teachers are still working hard to reach their students. This may be our temporary normal, but just as this haphazard system was created, so can we try to make the best of a less than ideal situation. I’ll always feel a pang of regret not getting to experience the last third of my senior year live, but hopefully I- and everyone else- will come out stronger for it.

“The COVID-19 crisis may well change our world and our global outlook; it may also teach us about how education needs to change to be able to better prepare our young learners for what the future might hold.” (Luthra, Mackenzie, 2020)

Sources:

Images, in order of appearance:

https://www.theverge.com/2020/3/31/21197215/how-to-zoom-free-account-get-started-register-sign-up-log-in-invite

https://www.forbes.com/sites/yolarobert1/2020/04/30/heres-why-youre-feeling-zoom-fatigue/#b6a61112ac69

https://lakecentralnews.com/45022/top-stories/life-with-essential-worker-in-family/

[created by author]

[created by author]

Links, in order of use:

https://www.edweek.org/ew/articles/2020/06/03/how-did-covid-19-change-your-teaching-for.html

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/29/sunday-review/zoom-video-conference.html

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/06/us/coronavirus-schools-attendance-absent.html

https://tradingeconomics.com/united-states/unemployment-rate#:~:text=Unemployment%20Rate%20in%20the%20United,percent%20in%20May%20of%201953.

https://www.vox.com/2020/4/23/21233042/coronavirus-online-learning-teachers-students

https://www.wired.com/story/zoom-end-to-end-encryption-paid-accounts/

https://www.vox.com/recode/2020/5/4/21241062/schools-cheating-proctorio-artificial-intelligence

https://www.vox.com/recode/2020/2/18/21121286/algorithms-bias-discrimination-facial-recognition-transparency

https://www.theverge.com/2020/4/29/21232777/examity-remote-test-proctoring-online-class-education

https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2020/03/4-ways-covid-19-education-future-generations/

[lailaliquorice]

I have been a fool for lesser things

PARRLYN ANGST COME GET YOUR PARRLYN ANGST

and it’s angst angst. But hey this was fun to write and it has a happy ending. there will be a follow-up oneshot to this to give everyone what they’ve been waiting for which I’ll probably write up a bit later and post tonight c: it’s not spell checked bc I have to rush out so I’ll correct it later lol

tw for drink spiking and general hospital stuff bc I know that makes some people uncomfortable

It was tradition for the queens to go down to the pub for an evening out; it was their favourite way of celebrating the end of a long week, all squashed around a table and relaxing with drinks in hand in each other’s company. But today found Anne at a different pub than their favourite local tavern, and in an unusual though not unwelcome change there was only one other queen with her.

“Here’s to a spontaneous night out,” Cathy said, chinking her raspberry gin against Anne’s vodka lemonade as they sat down at a free table. It was earlier than they usually went out because neither of them had performed that night, since it had been Anne’s random show off and Cathy had scheduled the day off so she could attend a conference.

As a result, when Cathy got home to find a very bored Anne she’d suggested they wander down to the new bar they’d been meaning to try out for a while, and Anne had been eager to agree. The thought that she was essentially on an unofficial date with Cathy kept circling around her mind but she kept shoving it down. “Here here,” she echoed, taking a generous swig of her drink while Cathy only sipped hers lightly. “So how was the conference?” she asked, remembering how excited Cathy had been before she set off that morning.

“Really interesting thank you. It’s nice to actually be taught something for a change; doing my own research is all well and good but you can learn a lot by being lectured by someone as knowledgeable as the Professor was. I had plenty of questions for her afterwards,” Cathy said, her face lit up by her smile. Anne always thought she practically glowed whenever she started to ramble about something that interested her, and she could have listened to her talk forever. After several minutes of Cathy talking about everything she’d been told, she cleared her throat slightly sheepishly and added “Sorry if that was more than you wanted to know. How was your day?”

Anne laughed, shaking her head. “I asked ‘cause I wanted to know, you don’t need to be sorry,” she said, grinning when Cathy’s shy smile returned. “And I just got stuff done really, dealt with the laundry that Jane was ready to murder me over and tidied my room. Was a bit lonely though so this is really nice, thanks for the suggestion.”

Cathy shrugged, still smiling at Anne as she said “You’re very welcome, it’s a lovely end to a lovely day.”

When their drinks were both running low, Anne downed the remainder of hers before insisting on getting refills for them both. Cathy watched her go with a fond smile, too preoccupied by chastising herself for her stupidly fast heartbeat whenever Anne smiled at her to notice that she wasn’t alone until she heard a male voice say “Hello sweetheart.”

Cathy almost jumped, looking around to see the man who had slid into Anne’s seat. “Oh, hello,” she said, not trying particularly hard to feign interest.

“Haven’t seen you around before. What brings a pretty girl out here alone tonight?”

“No, I usually go somewhere else,” Cathy replied, not bothering to answer his second question. She avoided his gaze as she drank the rest of her drink, hoping he’d be put off by her disinterest and leave her alone.

To her frustration though, he only smiled a little wider. “Well, I’d say you have a good choice in bars then. Can I get you another drink?”

Cathy shook her head, sneaking a quick glance towards the bar to try and see if Anne was on her way back yet. “No thank you, my friend is already getting me another,” she said, voice a little firmer as she refused his offer.

His smug look faltered for a moment, then fell altogether at the sound of someone coughing pointedly just before Cathy felt someone’s arms over her shoulders. “Hey hun, who’s come to join us?” Anne asked, resting her head close to Cathy’s as she stared down the stranger.

“Oh, you didn’t say it was that sort of friend, I’ll be out of your way,” the man said hurriedly, not looking at Cathy as he practically stumbled in his haste to get out of Anne’s chair. Cathy watched silently as he disappeared into the crowd, too distracted by the feeling of Anne’s breath against her neck to say anything.

Anne gave a low chuckle before moving round the table to sit back down,  and Cathy immediately missed the warmth of Anne pressed up against her back. “Sorry if that made you uncomfortable, thought it’d made him go away faster. You alright?” Anne asked. There was a blush across her cheeks as she met Cathy’s gaze for a split second before dropping her eyes again.

“I’m fine, and of course not. Thank you for saving me,” Cathy said, prompting Anne to look back up at her with a happy grin.

After a moment of them both looking into each other’s eyes, Anne clicked her fingers in apparently realisation as she jumped back out of her chair. “Forgot the drinks! Back in a mo!” she yelled as she sprinted back towards the bar, leaving Cathy to watch her go with a giddy smile that she didn’t bother trying to conceal.

But by the time Anne returned after actually ordering their drinks the second time around, Cathy was just staring at the opposite wall with an empty look on her face. “Hey, you ok?” Anne asked, putting their drinks down on the table as she looked at Cathy worriedly.

Cathy shrugged, swallowing heavily before she spoke. “I don’t know. I don’t feel very well all of a sudden.”

“Do you want to go home?” Anne asked, not caring that she’d just brought two new drinks at the sight of her friend looking so unsettlingly grey.

Nodding, Cathy murmured a quiet “Yes please.”

Anne stood first and put one arm around Cathy’s waist to help her to her feet. Slowly they made their way out of the bar, but when Cathy caught her foot on the doorway Anne just about managed to react quickly enough to catch her albeit clumsily. “Woah, I got you. Let’s stop for a sec. You doing ok?” she asked, leading Cathy over to crouch down by the wall.

“I didn’t drink that much,” Cathy said as she sat down heavily, almost overbalancing sideways and needing Anne to correct her again. “It was only one double gin, that shouldn’t… I’m not… uhhh…”

She trailed off with a groan and cradled her head in her hands, prompting an increasingly worried Anne to rub her back gently as she breathed heavily. Seconds later she was vomiting on the pavement, her head pounding and her vision blurring so much that she could barely notice Anne’s hands holding her steady. She was sure she heard Anne say something in a voice rising with panic, but then her shaking limbs gave out and her eyes rolled upwards as she collapsed into Anne’s arms.

~~~

1am found Anne sat in a hospital waiting room with her knees pulled up to her chest.

The wait for the ambulance had been torturous, as all she could do was hold onto Cathy’s lifeless form in her trembling hands and pray for help to get there faster. Then they were both bundled into the back of the ambulance, Cathy on the stretcher bed with an oxygen tube in her nose and heart monitor beeping slowly while Anne just clung onto her hand and tried not to get in the way. Then they arrived at the hospital and Cathy was whisked away behind closed doors, and Anne was left alone.

Footsteps approaching made her look up to see a doctor standing by her. “Are you here for Miss Parr?” he asked.

“Yes,” Anne said immediately, jumping to her feet. “She’s alright, isn’t she? Please tell me she’s ok.” She hated the waver in her voice as she practically begged the doctor, but she was too terrified to care.

“She’s stabilised and will be absolutely fine,” he said, and Anne felt her knees go weak with relief as she sagged back into her chair. “She’ll need to remain here for a day or two for monitoring and will be back to full health before long. But we found something when we tested her blood, and we believe that her drink was spiked.”

Anne felt her blood run cold as the doctor spoke. Her first thought was how lucky Cathy had been that she wasn’t alone; her second was the man who Anne had found sat at their table as Cathy finished her drink. For several moments she was quiet, thoughts whirling faster than she could deal with them, before she looked up and asked “Can I see her?”

The doctor nodded. “She’s asleep for now but will most likely start to come around within the next few hours. But you’re welcome to stay with her.” He led her down a corridor into the ward, then pushed open a door labelled ‘C. Parr’ and motioned for her to go in.

Anne’s eyes instantly landed on Cathy lying motionless in the hospital bed, the only signs of life being the steady trace of the heart monitor and the shallow rise and fall of her chest. She dimly heard the door being closed behind her, the sound jolting her back to life from where she’d frozen for a moment. The sight of Cathy, brave beautiful Cathy, looking so small in a hospital gown beneath ghost-white sheets was enough to make her stomach turn.

Finally finding her feet again, she crossed the room and dragged a chair over to sit by Cathy’s bedside. As she went to take her hand again she paused when she saw the tube in the back of her hand connected to a bag of fluids, but after a second’s painful hesitation where the lack of physical contact became too much she resolved to just hold her hand carefully. She needed the feeling of Cathy’s skin on hers, the reminder that she was ok and that Anne hadn’t lost her.

Her phone flashing in the dimly lit room reminded her that she hadn’t checked her notifications since leaving the bar, and she opened her phone to see several unread messages from the rest of the queens. She didn’t bother reading them before she clicked on one contact and pressed the call button, holding her phone to her ear in a shaking hand.

“Finally! Why in God’s name haven’t you been answering anyone? I had to talk Jane down from going on a manhunt!”

Anne’s lip trembled at the frustration in Aragon’s tone, unable to say anything until the line had fallen quiet. “Catherine,” she said, her voice thin with barely contained panic.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Aragon asked, suddenly sounding concerned.

“We’re in hospital.” The second those words were out in the open the dam broke, and she dropped Cathy’s hand to clamp her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her sobs.

It was a long while before Aragon could make herself heard over Anne’s shuddering breaths. “Just breathe Anne, take a deep breath and calm down for a second,” Aragon said soothingly, and Anne hummed in affirmation as she gasped air into her lungs. After a few seconds Aragon continued “There you go, that’s better. Now slowly tell me what happened.”

Hearing Aragon’s firm voice down the phone felt like Anne had been thrown a life ring while she was drowning. “We- we were at a bar and someone spiked her drink,” she explained haltingly between breaths, pausing to wipe away the tears that streamed down her face. “She blacked out and I called an ambulance and now we’re at hospital. She’s sleeping but they said- they said she’ll be ok in a few days.”

“That’s a relief,” Aragon sighed, and Anne hummed again. They were both quiet for a minute before Aragon added “Do you want me to come down there with you?”

Anne considered it for a moment, before she shook her head. “No, it’s ok. They might not let anyone else in this late anyway,” she said, knowing it had to be well into the small hours. Her voice shook again as she asked “Can you come tomorrow though?”

“Of course I will dear,” Aragon said, and Anne smiled at both her answer and the term of endearment. “Try and get some sleep, and I’ll be there in the morning. Everyone has gone to bed but I’ll let them know what happened, you just worry about looking after yourself and Cathy. Ok?”

“Ok,” she echoed quietly.

Once the call was over, Anne looked back over at Cathy’s peaceful expression as she slept on. Figuring she ought to take Aragon’s advice if she didn’t want to hear about it in the morning, she pulled her chair closer to the bed and kicked her shoes off before tucking her legs underneath her so that she was curled up semi-comfortably in the armchair. Resting her head on her elbow and holding Cathy’s hand again, she continued to watch her soft breathing for a while until her eyelids eventually fluttered closed and she fell into an uneasy sleep.

~~~

The first thing that Cathy became aware of was the faint beeping in the background. Then the dully throbbing pain in her head that made her groan softly. She went to lift her hand to her head but paused when someone’s fingers tightened around hers, prompting her to open her eyes. To her confusion it wasn’t her own four walls she saw when she looked around slowly, her vision blurring slightly as she turned her head, but her rising panic was quelled a little when she saw who was clinging onto her hand.

Anne was somehow curled up in an armchair a couple of feet away, gangly legs folded awkwardly underneath her in a position that hardly looked comfortable. She was asleep with her hair falling in front of her face, meaning that her holding onto Cathy’s hand was entirely subconscious.

Cathy smiled for a moment before she saw the tubes that had been taped into the back of her hand and crook of her elbow. That was when she remembered the beeping that had woken her up, and she glanced upwards to see a heart monitor as well as the two fluid bags that her IV drips were connected to. There was a tube in her nose too, lying uncomfortably on her skin and rubbing against her ears. She was in hospital. And while she could recognise how terrible she was feeling, she had no idea why.

Frantically trying to think back to the previous evening, her dread worsened as she realised the amount of gaps there were in her memory. She could remember going out with Anne, how Anne had linked their arms together as they walked down the road, but that was the last of it. Anything could have happened since then and Cathy was entirely clueless.

Her breathing quickened in her panic, a stray tear escaping down her cheek as her mind whirled uncontrollably with thoughts of what could have happened. Was there something really wrong with her? Was Anne ok? Did the others know what had happened?

The heart monitor’s steady beeping escalated as she panicked, flashing a warning just as Anne’s head flew up from her arm. She looked around disorientated for a moment before her eyes landed on Cathy and she uncurled her legs to sit on the edge of the bed. “Shh you’re ok Cathy, it’s alright you’re fine,” Anne said, grabbing Cathy’s hands in a role reversal of how they’d been when Anne had the first panic attack in front of her. “We’re in hospital but it’s ok, there’s nothing wrong and you’re gonna be fine in a bit. I’ve got you.”

Cathy nodded, then groaned again as the pain in her head increased sharply and her stomach turned. “What- what happened?” she asked, her voice cracking with how painfully dry her throat was. “I can’t remember anything, I know we went out last night but I don’t remember anything else.”

“We tried out the new bar last night and someone spiked your drink,” Anne said gently, giving a reassuring smile as Cathy’s expression dropped in shock. “There was a guy who approached you while I was at the bar, it must’ve been him. You were really sick and I called an ambulance and… and yeah, that’s how we’re here,” she finished lamely.

As Anne explained, Cathy noticed for the first time how pale her face was and the dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. Clearly the night had taken a toll on her as well.

“Do the others know?” she asked.

Anne nodded. “Yeah, I called Aragon last night and she said she’d come visit a bit later.” She paused to glance at the clock before correcting herself with “Well, maybe a lot later ‘cause it’s only 6 in the morning. You were out for about 9 hours.”

“Longest I’ve slept in a long time,” Cathy joked hoarsely, relieved when Anne cracked a tiny smile.

“Yeah, guess so,” she said, before her expression turned serious again. “They said you’d feel a bit rough for a while and you can probably go home tomorrow. And then I guess you can decide if you want to report him or not.”

Cathy thought for a moment, wishing she could remember what the man looked like or even what he’d done. “Probably,” she said after a while. “If I can remember enough to give a police report. I just wish I’d been more careful.”

“Hey, don’t go thinking this is your fault. That guy was the piece of shit, not you,” Anne said firmly, frowning for a moment before her expression softened. “And I’ll help you if you still can’t remember. I was there too y’know, you weren’t alone in this.”

She hummed in agreement, giving Anne’s hands a tender squeeze. “I know. And it’s thanks to you that I came out of this ok, so thank you Anne. It could have been a lot worse if I didn’t have you,” she said, looking earnestly at her friend.

Anne nodded in response, before her expression crumpled and she looked away at the ground. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Cathy asked, suddenly concerned.

“Sorry, I dunno why I’m upset when you’re the one who’s hurt,” Anne muttered, taking one hand back to wipe her eyes roughly. “I just… I was so scared when you blacked out that I was gonna lose you, and I dunno what I’d do without you because you’re amazing and I love you and it was really really scary.”

The confession didn’t go unnoticed by Cathy even in her groggy state, and she might have grinned with shock and joy if it wasn’t for the fact that her friend-turned-something was sobbing uncontrollably as all her fears from the past 12 hours came flooding out. “Come here love,” she said softly, opening her arms as Anne crawled up to lie next to Cathy while being painstakingly careful of the wires and tubes she was hooked up to. Cathy held her close as she buried her head in her chest, running fingers through her hair and whispering comforts into her ear. “I’m here, ok? I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you and we’re ok.”

“Mhm,” Anne murmured, her voice muffled by Cathy’s hospital gown.

Cathy continued to run her fingers through Anne’s hair and rub soothing circles into her back, noticing as all the tension left her shoulders and she relaxed heavily into Cathy’s hold. “How much sleep did you get last night?” she asked quietly.

Anne shrugged. “I dunno. I think I fell asleep at like 2.”

“Do you want to sleep here?”

“Yes please. You’re comfy.”

Cathy smiled at Anne’s response. She could feel her own exhaustion taking over again, and the comforting weight of Anne lying against her was enough to pull her towards unconsciousness again. There was so much she wanted to say, so much they needed to talk about, but they had time for that. For the moment though, Cathy kissed Anne’s forehead before resting her head atop her hair and giving into sleep.

~~~

When Aragon creaked open the door a few hours later, she was hardly surprised by the sight that awaited her. Cathy was lying asleep in the hospital bed, monitors beeping a peaceful rhythm which quelled the fears that had kept Aragon awake most of the night. But tangled up in her embrace was none other than Anne Boleyn. While she might have been unhappy a few months ago when her regard towards Anne was still poor, their now close relationship meant that she only smiled fondly at the pair of them.

She kept her footsteps silent as she took a picture of them both, then made herself comfortable in a chair across the room while she texted it to Jane to reassure her that all was fine. She’d come down to the hospital on her own after filling in Jane on what had happened, and she knew that the other three queens would hurry down to join them as soon as Kat and Anna had woken up. That gave Cathy and Anne a few more hours of peace and quiet in each other’s arms.

Her goddaughter and her almost-foster-daughter. Aragon couldn’t help but feel like a proud parent.

[love-loser]

cocky student tony x professor peter moved here for mobile users

Even though college was a volatile time for many, this whole higher education thing was going pretty well for Peter. Granted, he’s the one teaching the class, but still, pretty good seeing as see he was so young (25) and oh so (very) endearing, both of which helped him get along with his students.

Well, most of his students.

He never knew just how much one person could annoy him but walking into class, seeing that stupid smirk on the younger boy’s smirk, just made his coffee taste that much bitter, the junior never failing to make his day just a bit shitty, somehow.

Even more- he’d always managed to somehow know the material even though Peter was sure he was either sleeping or on his phone half the time. The Engineering professor could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d seen the brunette actually take notes. And it was already halfway into the semester. It hadn’t even caught Tony off guard when he tried to call on the boy.

What he hated the most, though, was the way Tony’s stupid, stupid, intense, dusky eyes always seemed to undress him everytime he walked into the room. The way his hands made his excessively big iPhone look tiny when he wrapped his capable fingers around it and- not to mention those same fingers that rubbed against his lips as he blatantly checked his own professor out, in class, no less. Did kids these days have no manners?

Yes, maybe Peter was exaggerating just a tiny bit–– it’s not like Tony tormented him everyday or openly harassed him, but it’s the principle of it, see. In Peter’s mind, he only has one goal when it comes to Tony Stark, aka (surprisingly) straight A student, aka genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist most annoying boy on campus.

And that goal: To put him in his place.

Peter can’t imagine what it’ll be like for the student when he gets to senior year in just half a semester–– in fact, even the very thought of Tony treating any of his teachers this way (or anyone) sends the assistant professor’s matchbox heart into insistent, restless flames.

(He chalks it up to just pure concern for his student.) Not jealousy.

Peter even writes up a list between inputting scantron grades, of why exactly he hates Tony’s guts.

Eloquently, he titles it, ❌ Tony Stark ❌.

1. Taller than me by an inch 1.5 cm.

2. Somehow knows my favourite breakfast from panera bread.

3. Always borrows notes from other people when he’s absent EVEN THOUGH HE KNOWS I HAVE COPIES BY MY DESK!

4. Wears those stupid glasses all the time.

5. Spends an average of 6 minutes after class just cleaning up, making me WAIT

6. Never pays attention in class but always sets the curves on tests.

7. Always flirts with other people outside the hall before class. (distracting!)

8.

On the eighth, Peter’s mind draws a blank. He’d thought that he could go on and on when given the chance, but maybe now isn’t the time- after all, he does only have 2 braincells left after mindlessly typing in scores.

It’s about 5:43 pm now, which probably means he should go after entering this last girl’s score and-

Done. Rarely do other professors ever stay this late, but Peter isn’t really in the mood to stick around and see. He grabs his trusty bullet journal- the one he proudly spent 2 and a half hours on in the beginning on the year, and also the one he just slandered Tony in, which, speaking of the devil- Shitshitshit, avoid him before he annoys you, Pete. It turns out his stiff, minecraft esque speedwalking in the other direction still isn’t enough to deter Tony, who looks up from his phone and calls out a nonchalant, “Hey, Mr. Parker!” Peteralmost scoffs at the sheer level of disrespect in that one line- how dare he? Who does he think he is?! At least, that’s what he sputters mentally.

Physically, the brunet is ready to embrace a thousand year nap.

Peter mentally debates whether or not to stop and give Tony the time of day, his aforementioned 2 brain cells bantering back and forth before, eventually, Tony just decides he will have a conversation with Peter, whether he likes it or not. “Hey, earth to Mister,” Tony says, suddenly in front of his face, dangerously close.

“Hi, Tony. You do know my first name isn’t mister, right? And you should be calling me Professor.” Peter says, voice scolding. “Okay, then, professor,” Tony says, though Peter knows he won’t really listen to him, “What’re you doing so late? Isn’t it past your bedtime? You need sleep to grow taller.” Well- okay, this is getting ridiculous.

“That’s no way you should be talking to your elders, much less your lecturer, Tony,” Peter reprimands, starting to walk again. Hopefully, he’ll be left alone now. Unsurprisingly, and to Peter’s horror, Tony only starts striding backwards easily, as if he’d grown up learning how to walk that way. “But you’re so young. You barely look like my elder, much less a teacher,” Tony’s eyes flicker down, then drag back up, and Peter tries not to flush at this. “That’s not to say you don’t look good, though, the opposite, really.”

Peter only scoffs at this, round eyes rolling in disbelief, a warm tinge to his cheeks to top it all off. He stops abruptly, ego puffing just a bit when Tony stumbles.

“Actually, why don’t we talk about that, Tony?” He stops just to mentally imprint Tony’s somewhat panicked expression, before continuing with an adamant, “I’ve seen the way you act in class- the way you look at me,” which sounds much more scandalous than it should be.

Peter’s voice lowers to a hush, registering that they’re still in a school building, where anyone could be listening. Trust no one, not even yourself.

“It’s not appropriate. I’m not some romantic interest for you to try to indulge in, and I’d much rather you put some of that attention to the lecture’s material instead.”

A moment passes by, then two, and Peter is still staring Tony straight in the eyes, his own hard with determination, brows furrowed.

After a pregnant pause, the student clears his throat.

“Do you wanna be?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, yeah, you’re cute professor,” Tony admits shamelessly, “Why don’t you just give me a bit of a chance? I’m not that bad, I’m actually very great.” “That’s exactly what a bad person would say,” Peter points out.

“Let me prove that I’m not, then,” Tony says. Then, his phone dings, “Well, I have to go. But I mean it, mister! Bye,” And with that, Tony bids him goodbye with a wave and a blown kiss.

Peter shudders.

Yuck.

-

What is not so yuck, though, is the next morning, is when Peter gets in at approximately 8:30 am. There’s a still toasty croissant on his desk, with a orange post it note.  

Hope you enjoy this. I was late bc i was picking it up so i just decided to skip for the whole day- TS<3 xoxo

Peter, infuriatingly, knows exactly who wrote the note, and couldn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes. He’d been doing that alot lately. ‘Late picking it up so he just decided to skip the whole day over a croissant, are you kidding me,’ Peter doesn’t bother actually protesting against the innocent pastry, though, instead setting his bag down and taking it out of the pastry bag. He recognises the label- it’s from the campus coffee shop. Tony was late to class picking up food from an establishment on campus.

The kid’s gotta have a demerit, or something, because that might be going just a little too far, even for him. It’s like being late to a party you’re already at, but leave it to Tony Stark to somehow find a way.

Well, that’s too bad. There was suddenly going to be a pop quiz today.

-

Peter, later, finds that he has to reach deep inside himself to not literally slap the living shit out of Tony’s face when the boy opens the door to his lecture hall as the professor is packing up later that day.

“So you are here,” is what he says instead, eyes narrowed accusingly. He still doesn’t get why Peter doesn’t just come to class if he’s already there- are his lessons really that bad?  

“Indeed I am,” is the answer that comes, infuriatingly nonchalant. “Miss me?”

“Never,” He huffs, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Did you at least like the breakfast I got you?”

Hell yes. “No. What would be better, Stark, is if you actually attended class while you were on campus.” Then, he adds in without thought, “Especially mine.” There’s a beat of silence, the words not quite sinking in for the professor yet- it’s a different story for Tony, though. “Especially yours?” Tony asks with a grin, and the tone in his voice makes Peter immediately regret whatever he said to induce said piece of shit’s intonation. “Yes. Is there a problem?” One strong brow raises in inquiry.

“Not at all,” Tony’s stupid smile only widens, “The opposite, really.”

[brokendevilwrites]

How would Popular Lexa Nerd Clarke both react if they broke up for a while? Ie like would lexa resorts to player Lexa? Maybe when their older.. Also do they leave town when they graduate? Maybe that affects them...?

I’ve answered something similar to this here and here.  The beautiful thing about fic is that while I enjoy keeping some things as realistic as I can, we can bend the rules a little to ensure our babies are happy and healthy and loved. We can build this whole incredible universe for them. However, because these two got together at a young age, an age where they’re still finding themselves, as they grow I do think they begin to bicker more as they navigate through life.

They live in the same city after school. Lexa attends one focusing on Law and Clarke goes for Journalism (though, again, don’t be surprised if this changes. I’m also happy to hear ideas from you guys). Lexa really finds herself in college; she mentioned that the biggest issue she had with school was that she was forced to learn things she didn’t care about. At college her education opens up, she begins taking an interest in more things and that’s, like, the biggest turn on ever for Clarke. Clarke also, in a weird twist, becomes more social. She surrounds herself with people of similar interests and finds her nights taken up with acoustic music in quaint little coffee bars and evening walks through the city with an expensive camera in her hand. Because of this they drift slightly and they come to the conclusion that just for a little while they need to be themselves, rather than Clarke or Lexa, but they’re a little less mature about it than Sunday’s Clexa during their break up…

Have 2500 words of them not knowing how to handle anything at all.

They break up on a Saturday and by Tuesday Lexa is waking up in Clarke’s dorm room. Again.

It’s how it always happens, it’s how it keeps happening and she knows nothing is going to change until one of them puts their foot down and actually does something to actively change it. Thoughts run wild in her mind as she shifts onto her side, her right hand lifting to trace her fingers down the curve of Clarke’s cheek while she lays next to her. Right now Clarke is the strongest that Lexa has ever seen her; with school, with friends, with standing up for what is right. College has opened doors for them that she never knew existed; only she didn’t realise some of those doors would mean she and Clarke would walk different paths. 

“You’re thinking about leaving, aren’t you?”

The pale sunrise coming through the curtains does absolutely nothing to hide the sadness of Clarke’s face, even with her eyes closed and blonde hair falling over her features. Her voice holds a heavy tone of resignation and knowledge. They’ve been here before and Lexa didn’t think they’d ever be that couple; the one who breaks up and gets back together over and over and over again. She doesn’t want to be that couple. She wants to be the couple that stays together forever, that survives through the highs and the lows. But college is busy and she works an evening job while Clarke works a day job and they both deserve more than one or two hours a week. 

But she can’t stay away.

And she can’t let herself give up this space next to Clarke long enough for someone else to fill it. 

“I don’t know what I’m thinking anymore,” she admits and her voice makes Clarke’s eyes open; the watery blue almost too much for Lexa to look at but she forces herself to keep looking. Bare legs move together beneath the covers and Lexa savours it, her skin on fire at each point of contact. “Clarke…”

“I know.”

“We’re pretty terrible at being broken up, huh?” 

Clarke buries her face into her pillow and Lexa misses her immediately, her body tense until she moves onto her back to finally confront a conversation they probably should have had before hurried kisses and desperate touches. Dark grey rings under blue eyes tell Lexa she didn’t sleep at all last night and she’s glad she isn’t the only one. “We’re pretty terrible at being together too,” Clarke whimpers and it feels like she’s been shot because that’s just not true. It’s just not fucking true. “God, Lexa.” 

“Don’t say that,” Lexa snaps and she ignores the glare she gets. Instead she lays back and let’s Clarke crawl over her to get out of the single bed. Her sleep shorts are mused and wrinkled and the old AC/DC t-shirt is riding up her stomach and there hasn’t been a more attractive Clarke to Lexa in a very long time. Heartbroken and full of love, messy and beautiful, adorably annoyed. “We’re amazing together and you know that.”

“Do we feel amazing right now?” 

Clarke’s biggest flaw that she doesn’t look at Lexa when they’re arguing; she always finds something else to do and Lexa gets out of the bed to glare at the back of Clarke’s head. “Obviously not but that might be because you broke up with me on Saturday. Again.”

“Because we deserve better than this, Lexa,” and, fuck, she’s crying. Clarke is crying and it’s not even seven in the morning. “I can’t keep doing this with you. I’m not strong enough. We’re either all in on this thing or we’re not. This limbo back and forth that we’re doing is too much and I thought that this was it on Saturday. When you walked away from me, I thought that was it and that we were actually over. And then you came last night and…Lexa, you make me weak. You know I’ve never been able to say no to you.” 

She turns to look at her and Lexa’s heart stops. She’s pretty sure that would be less painful than what she’s feeling right now anyway. “I know,” she whispers and she aches to reach out and touch Clarke, her fingers physically burn. “I think I’ve forgotten how to make you happy.” 

“I think you have too.”

And, oh.

Four emails come through to her at the same time and she ignores them. There is one from her professor, asking about her attendance, and others from various friends about work assignments. 

On the floor her clothes from work scatter between takeout cartons and college work. The bed is a mess of blankets that have been shoved against the wall and pillows that smell too much like her ex. Music plays softly through the speakers and Lexa just lets herself feel.

Outside of this room she’s composed. Besides not attending her last lecture, she thinks she’s pretty much kept it together fairly well. Anya’s apartment in the city is far enough away that nobody saw a broken girl walking the streets early on a Tuesday morning and when she appeared, two days later, she looked absolutely fine. Inside, her heart is ash. Inside, she’s broken. 

But nobody needs to know that.

“Do you want to go to ‘Mountain’ tonight?” Anya asks from the doorway, she’s leaning against the wood and her arms are folded but her eyes are concerned and Lexa kind of hates that. But she can’t deny the help. She can’t deny that when she came home and cried on the floor that it was Anya who helped; Anya who bundled her into the bath and ran warm water; Anya who washed her hair and soothed her. 

Lexa wonders who helped Clarke.

Wonders if Clarke even needed help.

“No,” she shrugs. She’s not incapable of being happy and she knows that, her happiness wasn’t dependent on Clarke and she knows they’re independent beings from one another. Clarke just made her happier. “I think Clarke’s there tonight and I just don’t want to have to deal with that.” 

“Deal with what? Both of you avoiding one another and spending the night not talking? It’s been two weeks at this point,” Anya grumps a little, her eyebrow raising at her friend. “Lexa, just come out. I get you’re kind of heartbroken and stuff but sitting in your room isn’t helping anyone. Come out for a bit and just leave when it’s too much, okay? But the only way to start getting out of this funk is by putting one foot in front of the other, so let’s get to stepping.” 

She leaves and Lexa wonders what the world would be like without Anya.

—

“She looks really hot,” Lincoln says and he’s so lucky he’s on the other side of the table because the punch Lexa was going to land on his nose would have been a lot harder than the slap to his thigh that Octavia gives him. “Sorry, but…” 

Four pairs of eyes look across the dance floor to the blonde. Hands in her hair, hips swaying, Clarke is the epitome of sexy and it seems everyone is noticing it. Everyone is appreciating it. Everyone but Lexa.

That isn’t her Clarke.

Clarke dances, yes. Clarke enjoys being with her friends, yes. But she’s not the center of attention; she doesn’t grind, doesn’t dance alone, doesn’t make a scene. Or, well, she didn’t. 

Torn between wanting to find out what’s happening and running out of the door, Lexa turns back to her drink. Her foot taps against the floor and she last an entire two lines of the song before she’s looking again at the giggling girl, her steps a stumble, her smile a little broken. 

She’s halfway across the dance floor before she knows what she’s doing.

“Clarke,” she breathes as she reaches her and at this distance she can see the glazed look in her eyes, the sweat on her skin. “What are you doing?”

“No, nope,” Clarke slurs and she stops dancing to glare at Lexa, her eyebrows meeting adorably. “Get out of my head.” 

And, oh.

—-

She’s not taken her pictures down is the first thing that Lexa notices. The second is her room is a lot more organised than her own. It’s tidy but Lexa smiles a little because her pillow is on the floor, the one she always uses, and she’s glad that she isn’t the only one. 

She places a bottle of water next to the bed as Clarke shuffles back into the  room. Her once curled hair hangs limp and there’s toothpaste at the corner of her lip but she falls into her bed before Lexa can comment. There’s a lot of noise as she shuffles under the covers and it makes Lexa giggle a little, even as her ashy heart tries beating again.

“Please don’t get that drunk again,” she says softly, well aware that she’s never been able to tell Clarke what to do. It’s funny to Lexa how often they play pretend at being adults but she hopes she’s smart enough for Clarke to follow her advice, as well-meaning but flawed as it is. “You scared me.”

“I thought it’d help. They do it in the movies.” 

“We’re not in a movie,” Lexa answers and she fiddles at her jacket zip. “If it was then I’d be over you in 90 minutes.” 

Clarke scoffs at that. “You’re not over me yet then?” 

“No.”

“Liar.”

She almost gives herself a headache at how hard she rolls her eyes. There is no way she’s getting into this conversation with a semi-drunk Clarke at this time in the morning. “Go to sleep, Clarke. You’re going to feel like shit in the morning.” 

“How many girls have you slept with since we’ve been broken up?”

And holy shit,that definitely wasn’t something Lexa was expecting. She didn’t even think that was something Clarke would think about. 

“Do you think I would do something like that to you?”

“Well, we’re not together.”

“But do you think I would?” She insists, irritated and hurt. “Clarke.”

“No, obviously not. I know you,” Clarke rubs at her eyes and Lexa hates it. Hates that this is who they are now, apparently. “But Luna said you’d move on to someone else because you moved on from Costia to me pretty easily.”

“I was never in love with Costia. We weren’t together and I didn’t plan my whole future with her. So no, Clarke, I haven’t moved on and I haven’t slept with anyone else. And fuck Luna for ever thinking she could say something like that to you.” 

Pain rushes through her body at having to explain that, at thinking that was something that went through Clarke’s mind, at people getting involved in things that weren’t any of their business. 

She feels sick.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Lexa mimics. “Drink your water.”

She doesn’t slam the door when she leaves but when the latch clicks it echoes in her mind. It’s over, it screams at her. It’s over, it’s over, it’s over. 

—–

Days pass and it turns into weeks. Snow begins to fall and the browns and reds and yellows of leaves fades to dark branches, which eases Lexa some. She remembers the crunch of leaves under her feet as her heart broke and she replaces the sound with the soft padding of snow instead as she works on fixing her pain.

Her phone stays silent but she still looks at it some nights, hoping for a text. The last one she received from Clarke was a “’thank you. I’m sorry…”’ the morning after she took her home. She didn’t reply.

Rumors circulate about Clarke and Luna but she ignores them. While it hurts, she trusts Clarke to move on to someone else when she’s ready and, even if she doesn’t want to know about it or even see it, Luna isn’t the worst person in the world. 

She’s halfway up the stairs to her and Anya’s apartment when she sees her and she stops completely. There’s a coffee cup at her feet and she’s wearing the cutest little beanie and Lexa’s heart jump starts, the ash from it clogging her throat and burning at her eyes.

“You know, Anya is home. You could have knocked.”

“I did,” Clarke chuckles, barely surprised by Lexa’s voice, and she stands slowly. “She shut the door in my face.”

Ah. That’s fair. 

“Not to rub it in but I think she unfollowed you on Instagram too,” Lexa smiles, reminding Clarke of the conversation from all those years ago. It feels strange directing her smile at the girl but oh God does it feel right. “What are you doing here?” 

Clarke sighs, takes a step forward. “Remember in high school and you told me I’m really bad at reading signals and that you were always waiting for me to make the first move?” 

“I guess.”

“Well, I figure that’s just who I am. I’ve been trying and trying to make the first move in getting over you and I’m failing miserably at it.” 

If there is a point to this, Lexa isn’t getting it. She adjusts her backpack on her shoulders as she waits but Clarke seems to have stopped, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth instead. “Well, sorry I guess?”

“No. Don’t be sorry,” Clarke frowns and Lexa takes the last few stops towards her, the snow on her boots melting into a little pile on the beige flooring. “I’ve been trying to figure out for so long how I’m supposed to get over you instead of figuring out how I’m supposed to make you fall in love with me again.” 

“Why?”

“Because even with the highest grades and good friends and my life on the track everyone says it should be on, I’m not complete. And I think it’s because I don’t have you. Truth is, as much as I don’t want to be cliche or one of those people I just really, really, really miss you. Us. And I need it back.”

Lexa shrugs, lips tight together in a pout. “Even if I don’t know how to make you happy?” 

“You’ve always made me happy,” Clarke defends. “I just got lost learning how to make myself happy and I’m sorry I ever made you feel like that. I understand if you don’t want this but in high school you once told me you were happy being friends and I want you to know that I’ll take that too. I want to be your friend again.”

“But you want more?”

“I’ll always want more but there’s no pressure,” she says and it is such a role reversal that it almost breaks Lexa. Almost. “Can we be friends and just go from there? I know I said we deserve more but, honestly, you always gave me the most and I think I forgot that somewhere along the way or took it for granted, and I’m sorry.”

For a few long seconds Lexa just looks at Clarke before she smiles, a slow smile that builds from the middle at works it way out. “Hi,” she says, pointing to the wall next to Clarke. “Can I sit here with you?” 

It’s the quickest Lexa has ever seen someone willingly sit on the floor of a hallway and she laughs, genuinely, for the first time in a long time. 

And, oh.

Happiness hasn’t felt this good in a long time.

[bevioletskies]

Starmora prompt to consider: Gamora and Peter are in college together and have to work on a project together.

songs in this fic: dance with me by orleans, the closer i get to you by roberta flack & donny hathawayword count: 3.7k | ao3

In the three years he’d been in college, Peter had come to learn he had a particular aversion to certain two-word phrases. Among them: morning lectures, waitlisted classes, mandatory attendance, cumulative exams, and the oh-so-dreaded…

Assigned partners.

It wasn’t that Peter didn’t like working with other people. In fact, unlike most students, he generally loved the experience. He was curious about others by nature, and getting along with people was never much of a chore for him. In any group project, even with just three people in it, he could find kinship with at least one other member. Assigned partners, however, was a different story. Especially when said assigned partner was the infamous Gamora (no last name, as far as he knew, anyway).

She was well-known around their sizable college on Xandar for a handful of reasons, most which were rather tragic. Gamora was the last living member of the Zehoberei race, largely in part to her adoptive father, Thanos. She and her sister, Nebula, were generally quite reserved when it came to sharing their private lives, but anyone could dig up old news articles and learn that they had only been rescued from their violent upbringing at the age of fifteen, leaving them physically and emotionally scarred for life. They hid it well, though, keeping their chins up despite some of the nasty comments that immature classmates threw their way.

Beyond that, Gamora was part of several different clubs and organizations, with ambitions of getting into law school. She hardly spoke in class, but she had the highest grades in just about everything, constantly booking private office hours with her professors to make her goals known. Peter could admire her drive from a distance, sure, but getting to know her up close?

“Don’t think that you’ll have it easy because you’re partnered with me,” Gamora said, dropping into the seat beside him, her bag slamming down with a loud thunk. “If you slack off, Quill, our TA will hear about it.”

Peter blinked. “Hi to you too, it’s so great to meet you,” he said dryly.

Getting to know her up close was…interesting, to say the least.

“I’m serious. I’ve seen your posts on the class discussion forums, or should I say, your lack of them?” Gamora’s lip curled. “I’m not carrying you through this class. It’s a prerequisite for two of my fourth-year classes.”

“Hey, same here,” Peter said with a surprised chuckle. “What’s your major, anyways?”

“Sociology. Yours?” It was the kindest thing she’d said to him so far, though Peter suspected it was more of reflexive habit than an actual desire to know.

“Education.” Peter turned away briefly to accept the project outline that was being passed around, grabbing one for each of them before looking back at her. He’d never been so physically up-close to her before, surprised and a little bit disturbed to see thin slivers of metal visible underneath her skin. That certainly wasn’t a Zehoberei physical trait; it had to have been the result of Thanos’s cruelty.

“I didn’t know education majors had to take communication courses,” Gamora said. She still refused to meet his eyes, instead opting to skim over the project outline. “We have to collect primary research and present a proposal to the entire class.”

“So…every college project ever,” Peter snorted. “Why is this even done in partners?”

“Because we have to be each other’s opposition.” Gamora tapped her finger on Peter’s sheet, right where the criteria said exactly as such. “That’s clever, actually. Means that you can’t rely on me to do everything for you.”

“I don’t know where you’re gettin’ the idea that I’m a slacker,” Peter protested. Gamora gave him a pointed look.

“You don’t participate in class or in the online discussions, I overheard you asking our TA at least twice if the final was cumulative when it says so on the syllabus, and you snored during our last three lectures,” she said, getting to her feet. “Excuse me for being cautious.” She hoisted her bag over her shoulder. “Meet me in the student lounge in the Nova building tomorrow? I don’t have class, so it’s up to you when we meet.”

“I was gonna…ugh.” Peter let out a resigned sigh. Clearly, his plans to head into the city and skulk around the pawn shops for Yondu were going to have to wait. “I’ll be there at noon.”

“Don’t be late,” Gamora called over her shoulder as she made her way down the steps of the lecture hall. Peter could only watch her go with a shake of his head, wondering what exactly his professor had gotten him into.______

To Gamora’s surprise, Peter arrived five minutes early (she had been here ten minutes ago, but still). He looked for all the world like he’d just rolled out of bed, his hair a rumpled mess, the collar of his T-shirt woefully lopsided. Peter dropped his bag into the seat opposite her and sank into the cushion with a labored groan. “Just woke up?”

“Nah, early morning shift.” Peter cracked his knuckles, satisfied with the way they popped. Gamora looked vaguely disgusted. “I work at the radio station.”

“Really?” For the first time, Gamora sounded genuinely interested in what he had to say.

“Yeah, I do the playlists and social media. Sometimes I help edit the announcements and current events stuff,” Peter shrugged. He began unloading his bag, yanking out his laptop and project outline. “You, uh, you write for the newspaper, right?”

“Among other things, yes,” Gamora said neatly, directing her attention back to her own screen. “We don’t really pay much attention to the radio station, though, except for that disastrous fundraiser you attempted last semester.”

“Hey, there are plenty of rich kids around here who would love to get their ships washed,” Peter said defensively.

“But by students in swimsuits? That’s dangerously archaic and a tad suggestive,” Gamora replied, though she chuckled softly as she said it. “We got plenty of quotes from the administration about your little stunt, enough for a front page spread. It was a busy week.”

“Welcome Week usually is,” Peter laughed. “So, you have any topics in mind yet?”

“It still has to be related to some aspect of communication,” Gamora pondered aloud, leaning back into her seat. “Something that can even have opposing ideas. We gather and present the same primary data, but we have to come to different conclusions.”

Peter hummed to himself, drumming his fingers against his keyboard thoughtfully. Another minute or two passed before he let out an excited shout, startling a few students trying to sleep on the beanbag chairs nearby. “I got it!”

“That was fast,” Gamora said, eyeing him curiously. “Go on, then.”

“What makes a better communicator - an introvert or an extrovert?” Peter smiled at her triumphantly. “C’mon, you can’t tell me that isn’t good.”

Gamora twirled her pen between her fingers, nodding slowly. “You know…that isn’t half-bad.” Peter pumped his fist in the air in victory. “But how would we measure it? Based on what kind of data? What constitutes an unbiased conclusion?”

Peter clapped his hands together, rubbing them vigorously. “Let’s start with an abstract and go from there, yeah?”

She quirked her brow, setting her pen down. “Sounds like a plan. I’m impressed, Quill. You might be smarter than you look.”

His grin widened. “Hey, I have good ideas every now and then.” He turned his laptop towards her, open to a blank word document. “After you.”______

Meeting outside of class hours became a weekly occurrence for the two, usually in the Nova student lounge. It was mostly out of necessity - after all, there was only so much they could communicate via text and email - but occasionally Peter would send her an extra message or two that wasn’t related to the project at all.

Saw your article this morning - do you have a personal vendetta against the radio station or something D:

I think your sister literally ran into me in the admin building like five minutes ago does she always look this angry or did I do something please help

Did they not have memes on Zehoberei?? Is that why you aren’t responding to the last three I sent you

“We didn’t have Internet on Zehoberei, Quill,” Gamora sighed as she sat beside him in the lecture hall one day. Peter startled at her sudden presence; she had never voluntarily elected to sit with him before. “And ignore Nebula, she’s just…tempestuous.”

“So you do have something against the radio station,” Peter said teasingly. “What’d music and campus news ever do to you?”

“Nothing, I just think it’s an inefficient way of communicating. All your reports are looped every fifteen minutes, which means whenever someone tunes in, they either miss a portion of it or miss it entirely,” Gamora pointed out. “All the newspaper’s articles are published online, which students can access whenever they want.”

“You’re against the old-school, huh?” Peter hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat. His shoulder brushed hers as he did. “I see how it is.”

“Did you pull something when you jumped to that conclusion?” Gamora said dryly, though to her surprise, Peter merely laughed, shaking his head in amusement. The genuine warmth of the sound made her shiver. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, still chuckling. “You busy tonight?”

“We’re meeting on Thursday, aren’t we?” Gamora asked, frowning.

“Sure, but if you’re free…I’d like to change your mind.” Peter smiled.

Gamora hesitated, which in her mind, already said something about herself. She was planning on doing her usual evening routine - attempt to meet up with her sister, only to get spurned for one reason or another, and instead spend the rest of the night licking her wounds and doing homework in her dorm room, alone. But for some reason, the offer sounded rather appealing. “Fine, but I’ll still be bringing my laptop, whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t take the entire night off.”______

The grass was still slightly damp from the afternoon sprinklers as Gamora crossed the lawn into unfamiliar territory. There were certain areas of the school’s campus she’d never been to, considering most of her classes resided in two buildings on the other side of the quad. The stars in the night sky twinkled mischievously from up above as she paused outside the door, urging her to knock. With an inhale of anticipation, she neatly rapped her knuckles against its surface.

“Quill?” she called. The door swung open, revealing a cheerful-looking Peter, wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing earlier, only now he had a pair of headphones slung around his neck and a small device hanging on his belt.

“Hey, welcome to the den.” He stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. She glanced around as she did, taking in her surroundings. It looked less like a radio station’s quarters, and more like a typical dorm room, with random junk strewn about. Records, tapes, and seemingly disassembled electronics were packed and stacked on nearly every surface, including the single worn loveseat that sat opposite the broadcasting booth. A student that Gamora vaguely recognized from one of her old language classes was inside, speaking animatedly into the microphone, while Peter’s bag and schoolwork seemed to be set up on a small desk by the equipment.

Peter took a minute to clear off the couch, carrying his laptop over and motioning for her to join him. They sat down together, watching the radio host in amicable silence for a few minutes before Gamora finally spoke. “Somehow, this is exactly what I pictured.”

“Okay, so we’re not as fancy as the newspaper office,” Peter shrugged. “We…we’re cozy.”

“When were you at the newspaper?” Gamora asked, pulling out her own laptop. She was beginning to suspect Peter didn’t have much planned besides spending the evening in each other’s company, which admittedly wasn’t as terrible of a plan as it might have sounded a couple months ago when they first began working together.

“I, uh, might’ve had a crush on the culture reporter, Bereet,” Peter confessed. “She was in one of my film study electives, and she seemed to know her stuff about movies, and I wanted to see if she’d be interested in my contributions on music in film. Turns out she’s kind of a Top 40 girl. Which isn’t, like, bad or anything, just…she didn’t really wanna hear anything I had to offer or say.”

“She means well, but she is…particular,” Gamora said carefully. “Anyways, what am I doing here?”

Peter unwound the headphones from his neck and held them out to her. Gamora accepted wordlessly, albeit a little uncertainly, as she slid them snugly over her ears. “Showin’ you what the radio station can do that the newspaper can’t.” He pressed play.

Dance with me, I want to be your partner…can’t you see the music is just starting?…

He watched her nervously, watched as her eyes slid closed and her shoulders dropped as the tension in her body slowly dissipated. She almost seemed to be swaying a little, absorbing the song and its lyrics - or maybe she was drifting off to sleep, he couldn’t quite tell.

Night is falling, and I am falling…dance with me…

When the song finished, Gamora pulled the headphones down to her shoulders, glancing over at him with a soft smile. “It was…pleasant. I liked it.”

Peter grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Gamora gently took the Walkman from him, turning the device over carefully in her hands. “But if you think the newspaper is lacking in music, I think I need to introduce you to streaming services, Quill.” He couldn’t help but laugh again - part of him wanted to be annoyed, but there was something about the way she spoke that left him utterly charmed. “There you go again - what is it?”

“Nothin’, it’s just…you’re funny. I didn’t expect that.” Peter held out his hand for her to give it back. “Here, let me play you another one.”

Gamora pressed it into his palm, their fingertips brushing slightly as she did. She shivered. “I don’t think anyone has ever thought of me as funny before.”

“Well, that’s a shame. Then let me be the first.” Peter couldn’t help but stare a little as she tucked her hair behind her ear before pushing the headphones back into place, shaking himself out of his reverie before pressing play once more.

The closer I get to you…the more you make me see…by giving me all you got…your love has captured me… ______

Semester-long projects, suffice to say, were just about no one’s favorite, but Peter soon found himself dreading its end. After that night, Gamora had become a semi-regular visitor of the radio station, having quickly memorized Peter’s work schedule. She dropped in at least twice a week with leftover pastries from the newspaper office or one the other dozen committees and whatnot that she was a part of. They usually spent the first ten minutes under the guise that they had something to talk about regarding the project, but would then delve into something a little personal, a little more intimate, even.

One night, Gamora had made a rather strange request - that Peter join her in her dorm room instead, and if he had spent a little more time checking himself over in the mirror before leaving, no one had to know. However, when he arrived, she seemed unusually distraught.

Her room was exactly what he expected it to be; neat and well-kept, with everything in its place. There were no extraneous decorations or trinkets to be found, just a perfectly-made bed and organized desk with nothing on the floor but her bookbag. Gamora’s tear-streaked face told a different story. “Gamora, hey, what happened?” He immediately sat on the foot of her bed, wondering if it would be too invasive to reach out into her personal space.

“Do you have a sister, Quill?” she asked.

“Yeah, uh, Mantis, you might know her from - never mind. Did somethin’ happen with Nebula?” Peter said worriedly.

“I didn’t know who else to talk to about it.” Gamora glanced at him almost apologetically. “This probably wasn’t what you were expecting when I texted, but…”

“It’s okay. I was in the neighborhood,” Peter joked, bringing his legs up onto the bed. “I mean, I’d like to think we’re at the point where we can talk about stuff that’s not about class. We’re…friends, right?”

For a moment, Peter internally panicked, wondering if he’d misspoke, as Gamora suddenly looked very odd, like she’d swallowed something sour. She clenched her jaw a little, her brow furrowed upwards, before she finally relaxed, braving a watery smile. “Yes, I think we are.”

Peter spread his arms wide, a rather goofy expression on his face. “So lay it on me. What happened?”

Despite the uneasiness in her stomach about the Nebula situation, Gamora couldn’t help but find her smile widening as she settled in across from Peter, putting her phone aside so she could properly meet his eyes. “It all started earlier this week…or really, to be more accurate, when we were children…”______

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous, Quill.” Gamora smiled almost teasingly as she slid onto the bench beside him, smoothing out her already-crisp blazer. It was presentation day, a day that both of them had been secretly dreading, and they were dressed much nicer than their usual attire, considering professionalism was a big part of their mark. “You’ve got a strange look in your eye.”

“It’s just my face,” Peter protested, though the wrinkle in his brow instantly faded the second Gamora playfully elbowed him in his side. “Are you ready?”

“I’m always ready,” Gamora drawled, smirking, before they both directed their attention to the front of the room.

The next thirty minutes dragged on in nervous anticipation as other groups went up to present. Peter bounced his leg underneath the table until Gamora literally dug her fingers into his knee to get him to stop, her hand remaining there a little longer than necessary. Finally, after what felt like forever, the two of them were called on, and they made their way down the steps.

“Communication and personality are undeniably correlated, but is there causation to be found? Do extroverts have it easier when it comes to expressing themselves and making their ideas heard, or do introverts win out in the end?” Gamora began as Peter pulled up their presentation on the large pull-down screen.

“We conducted fifty interviews with students from different faculties, different backgrounds, different dreams - to come to opposing conclusions about who has it better,” Peter continued, gesturing towards the video that was queued up in front of them. “This includes our colleagues - I work at the radio station, and Gamora works at the school paper. You might think they’re mutually exclusive, but you’d be surprised at what we found.”

Their ten minutes, all things considered, went seamlessly - Peter only fumbled his words once, and Gamora’s voice shook as she spoke of her own experiences as a person that somewhat fell in between what she called the “admittedly narrow definitions” of what it meant to be one or the other. As with any college lecture, the applause they received was obligatory and entirely disinterested, but their professor seemed impressed enough, nodding and laughing in all the right places, asking a few questions at the end that they answered near-flawlessly.

Peter exhaled shakily as they sat back in their seats, both relieved and a little remorseful. “That went okay, right? We did good.”

“We did,” Gamora smiled. “Who knew we would make a half-decent team?”

Class wasn’t over, though, as much as they wanted it to be, and they had to sit through another five presentations. Peter couldn’t help but whisper snarky commentary under his breath to Gamora throughout, in which her reactions would range from rolling her eyes to biting hard on her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud.

When the second-last presentation was halfway done, Gamora glanced down at her phone and, without warning, ducked out of the room in a hurry, her bag in tow. Peter could only stare after her despondently, wondering if that was suddenly it; if by next week, when their professor started their finals review period, she would be sitting at the front again, she would stop visiting the radio station, she would stop talking to him entirely.

Peter practically sprinted out of the lecture hall the second they were dismissed, glancing around for any signs of where Gamora could have gone, though he was sure she was long gone by now. It was only when his eyes drifted a little lower that he spotted her sitting under a nearby tree, smiling hesitantly at him from across the way.

“You sure hightailed it outta there,” Peter commented when he approached her. He was unsure of whether it would be weird for him to sit down. “Something up?”

“My sister texted, she actually wants to have dinner with me tonight,” Gamora said, holding up her phone triumphantly.

“That’s great!” Peter exclaimed, deciding to sit cross-legged beside her. “One step closer to working it out, right?”

“I hope so,” Gamora chuckled in relief. “I thought it would be kind of rude for me to go back inside and interrupt the presenters so…I’m glad you found me.”

“Yeah?” Peter’s heart thumped a little faster. “Why’s that?”

“Well, partially so I could tell you in person why I can’t come to the station tonight,” she replied apologetically, reaching across to take his hand in hers. “But…if you’re free tomorrow night…I have the keys to the newspaper office. You know, for comparison’s sake.”

“You ain’t sick of me yet?” he said disbelievingly.

“Oh, give it some time, Peter, I’m sure it will happen eventually,” Gamora teased. “So is that a yes?”

Peter nodded eagerly, his eyes crinkling in the corners as Gamora gazed up at him, her dark eyes compelling him to say the answer they were both looking for. “It’s a date.”

[naireides]

Hi Nai! So you're one of my favorite bloggers on this site and I know you're in med school so since I'm about to start pre med in the fall I was wondering if you had any tips for me? Study tips, books, etc, anything would help tbh. Thanks! Love you!

Hi! Congrats on starting pre med, good for you! I think I always say this but I’m not really the best at giving advice but I’mma shoot my shot anyway lol. Lemme just preface this by saying that your med experience is not going to be like mine because here in the Caribbean we do things a bit differently; we don’t have pre med here. Instead, after you finish CAPE (our A level exams) you jump straight into med school which is 3 years in an actual school to learn about preclinicals and paraclinicals and then another 2 years where you’re on the wards in the different specialities. After that you graduate with your MBBS and you have to go through a further one year internship before moving on to practice on your own.

So study tips. The first major one would definitely be to not confuse med with high school. Your study methods will (more than likely) not work here. I learnt this the hard way and it earned me the first Bs I ever got in my life lol. Uni life is a lot more laid back than HS life don’t get me wrong, but it’s waaay easier to loose track of things because of that. A lot of your professors probably won’t take attendance (for me only labs and smaller classes/ tutorials took attendance but my anatomy/ biochem/ physio classes did not) so you might want to skip. Depending on who you are you may or may not skip. I advise going to the first few classes and getting a feel of how the prof teaches before deciding if it’s worth getting up to go to that 8am. For me I have certain classes that i miss (like anatomy because it’s fairly straightforward and I learn better through practical application anyway like labs- which is why I’m always front and centre to record all my anatomy labs) and then I have classes that I will drag myself through hell to attend (lectures given by certain biochem/ physio profs who don’t give you all the slides)

Another tip is to make notes from early. It’s a lot of work. I use onenote in class to type my notes or make supplemental notes right there in the powerpoint if it’s uploaded before class and then when I get home I write my notes out (I like really pretty notes it’s something I’ve always done because it helps me keep my concentration so I gain inspo from pinterest and studyblrs)

When making these notes I turn to my textbooks. Please don’t go out there and buy every single textbook known to man. Search online and you’ll find pdfs and ebooks for free. I bought 5 textbooks and it was only because I like using physical books (plus one was written by one of my profs and he likes to pull questions from there) and my scholarship covered the cost of them anyway. If you can’t find a pdf of it online pm me because there’s a good chance I have it downloaded anyway lmao (there’s a story behind that but that’s going way off tangent lol)

Plus there’s a lot of helpful websites and youtube channels out there too! The ones I use the most are khan academy, doctor najeeb, ak lectures and speed pharmacology

And last but not least, books! Like I said before, there’s a lot of books out there so it can definitely be confusing. I like to classify the books I use most into 2 categories: the books that are at least a thousand pages and the books that are half of that.

Anatomy is always going to be a lot because anatomy is a lot. The human body has a lot of shit going on it man. I use Moore’s clinically oriented anatomy (6th edition) because I love their tables and blue sheets (clinical correlates). I also have the gray’s anatomy app on my phone as a quick reference. (Gray’s Anatomy is also a good textbook I’ve heard but I’ve never really used it)

For biochem the big one is Harper’s illustrated biochemistry which is great to use if you’re in a bad way because it explains every single thing. That can be tedious sometimes rereading the same thing a million different ways so the lighter version is the Lippincott illustrated review biochem edition. (sidenote: lippincott has a whole lot of books in the med field suck as pharmacology, immunology, pysio, etc)

And then physio we have the renowned Guyton and Hall textbook of physiology which is great don’t get me wrong but like the Harper’s it’s repetitive. So if you’re super confused about something then this is the book for you. If you have an okay enough grasp on it though you might want to check out Costanzo’s physiology which is the one I tend to use more because I historically just don’t like big repetitive textbooks.

Anyway, I think that’s all! This got really long so I hope something in it helps!

[internetguideforhighschoolers]

4: Educating Via the Internet and Online Classes Pt. 2

Last time we talked about learning via the internet, but this blog will shift directions slightly and talk more in depth about educating via the internet and online classes.

When I was in high school they talked to us about what jobs we would be good at, what colleges may be a good match for us education-wise and financial-wise, what classes we need to take in high school to prepare for college, and how to apply to college. They never discussed what college would actually be like, so I want to give a little information on what my experience was like. Please keep in mind every college, every student, every major, and every experience will be different, but this will maybe keep you from going in blind.

Traditionally, in lecture you sit in a large lecture hall, full of students. Depending on the size of your major and your college this can range from 20 students to 300+ students. Some larger classes have discussion or lab sections where you have a smaller group of people to work with and ask questions to your TA, teaching assistant. These lectures are different from high school. Some professors don’t require attendance because it can be difficult to track who attended and who didn’t. It is up to you to attend the lecture ready to learn. Some professors are strict and will penalize you for using your phone in class, but a lot of them simply do not have the time to yell at all the students. It is up to you to be respectful of other students by not being a distraction by using your phone or being noisy and also respectful of your professor by taking them seriously when attending their class.

Professors often talk about how students today are distracted. We can’t seem to put our phones down, and we get easily distracted. Many students use their laptops in lectures for taking notes and then get sidetracked with online shopping or something else. Would it surprise you to know that professors have been complaining about their students being distracted since before cellphones and the internet were invented? They used to complain about us reading the newspaper in class or even going to the bathroom too many times.

One big thing you should take away from this blog is that people like to complain about the same things throughout history.

Some people think that learning on your own terms can help reduce distractions since you are not in a lecture hall with 100s of other students doing their own things.

There are also many other issues that college students face. Tuition and attending college is expensive, but you can usually find that out before you apply. However, something that surprises a lot of first year students is the cost of supplies and textbooks specifically. In high school they had us borrow textbooks. In college you usually have to rent or buy them.

Activity: Think about the books you use in your high school classes. Consider the textbooks for science, history, and math. Consider what books you read in English. Do your electives require textbooks? Consider if you took a history or science class on a college campus. How much do you think one textbook costs?

Textbooks can easily cost up to $200 or $300 or more for one textbook.

Was that shocking? Some are definitely cheaper and you can usually find options for pricing, but it isn’t abnormal to spend a few hundred dollars a semester on textbooks alone.

Most classes in college require a textbook, sometimes more than one. Although this can depend on your major. Art classes usually require less textbooks, but art students must also buy their art supplies. More hands on majors will usually require less textbooks, but you still usually need to take general education credits in college that require them.

Another thing to note about in person classes is that by design they are synchronous, and remember our discussion last time about why asynchronous might be better.

So how are online classes combating issues that college students face?

Online classes, like we discussed, are often asynchronous, but not always. This allows students to work alone and on their own time. It is easier for them to be productive and in charge of their distractions.

Ebooks are often more accessible in online classes because you are not physically going anywhere, so you don’t need a physical textbook. Ebooks are often cheaper because you don’t need to pay for paper and ink to print them.

Online classes that are made to be online, instead of in person classes that were forced to be held online because of the pandemic, often have a different structure and assessment style. Exams during in person classes are proctored and taken very seriously. This is difficult to do online, and there is heavy debate about using online proctoring software that records students in their homes. Also, a lot of college classes have a handful of exams (usually 2-4) throughout the semester and maybe one other smaller assignment that make up your grade. This means if you miss an exam or do poorly on one, it can often be difficult to bring your grade up. Instead many online classes move away from this and towards an assessment style that encourages engagement with the material throughout the semester via smaller assignments. This is less stressful for students because missing one assignment is not that big of a deal compared to missing an exam.

Also, this assessment style change allows for a more flexible late work policy from professors. A lot of professors in college won’t accept late work or a missed exam without reasonable and documented excuse, like an hospitalization or significant family emergency. It is always worth communicating with your professor because many of them are willing to work with you, but when you have 200+ students, it is hard to proctor another exam. Online classes are less likely to have this problem and it is easier for an instructor to grade a 200 word assignment late than it is for them to make and proctor another exam.

Many online classes also allow you to work ahead to increase flexibility and minimize the need that you have to turn something in late. If you know you will have a busy week with projects and exams, you can work ahead in your online classes to make if so you don’t have to worry about them for that week.

These are just a handful of reasons why online classes are convenient and combating the issues many college students are currently facing.

Online classes are not without flaws though. Students need to be more self-disciplined to keep up with the work because you need to watch lectures on your own time. It can help to develop a routine to make sure you are on pace. You also don’t get as much social interaction, which can be hard on students. Another issue is cheating. If it is unfair to proctor exams online, how do you ensure no one is cheating and that the exams are fair?

Education is constantly changing and adapting to students’ needs. Sometimes that change is slow or frustrating, but good things can often come of it.

I would highly recommend trying an online class when you get to college. If you take an asynchronous one, you may often feel like you have more time because you get to choose when to work on it. I felt that way. Hopefully this blog makes you feel more at ease in online classes.

[livingbutamireally]

AY2020/2021 Y2S1 Module Reviews

This semester proved to be a pain as expected. Said pain coming mostly from BT2101 and CS2030. Everything was conducted online with the exception of the weekly lab sessions for CS2030 so I only had to go to school for 1 day. F2F CS2030 recitations were optional so I gave up and just watched the recorded zoom session instead of going to school just for a class half way through the semester. I usually miss the live zoom sessions because mine was at 1pm and I am almost always still having lunch at that time and not ready at all. Also i missed about half of my BT2102 tutorials because I simply forgot I had tutorials at that time (2-4pm). They still awarded me nicely for participation much to my surprise (7/10).

BT2101 Decision Making Methods and Tools

BT2102 Data Management and Visualisation

CS2030 Programming Methodology II

GEQ1000 Asking Questions

IS1103 Ethics in Computing

CS2030: Programming Methodology II in Java

Prof: Dr Henry Chia, A.P. Terrence Sim

Weightage:

Weekly labs (5%)

Individual project (15%)

Practical assessment #1 in week 7 (15%)

Practical assessment #2 in week 12 (20%)

Class participation (5%) : includes lab participation, piazza discussions and peer learning activities

Final exam (40%)

CS2030 proved to be intensive not only in the aspect of planning code design but also the actual implementation itself.. (thinking about how to solve the problem and/or get the expected outputs)..  Really struggled my way through the start although that really was only the tip of the iceberg because I had no prior experience in Java and the introductory Winter Workshops were reserved exclusively for freshmen or I missed the deadlines can’t remember.. The first few lectures got us familiar with Java Programming before diving deep into Functional Programming which is a lot harder to grasp vs Object-Oriented Programming which was introduced to us in CS1010S already. The hardest part comes with Streams but honestly after learning streams so many processes can be coded so much more efficiently as compared to OOP, really simplifies some of the tasks when using FP rather than OOP. Interesting to note that this streams part ties in well with BT2102′s coding part where we learnt aggregation pipelines in MongoDB and MySQL i believe the concepts felt similar??

Weekly Labs

Pretty manageable imo , compared to the project ofc (rolls eyes)

This semester they changed things up a bit and shifted all the weekly labs deadlines to finals so we had more control in terms of time management and our progress in the labs. Naturally we are expected to do them every week but say we are busy in a certain week for other modules we can always come back on another. I was always behind by like a month compared to my friends who were more on task.

Individual Project

Project part 1 was still okay for the Discrete Event Simulator (DES) basically designing a system for customers to queue and be served and recording the relevant work done at the appropriate times using OOP.

The hardest part was project part 2 where you had to rewrite the whole chunk in part 1 FP style and also they added a lot of more complex simulations and cases which I really just gave up entirely after completing level 2.

It was so hard it was traumatic. Level 3 had something to do with importing a random number generator and the test cases only get more confusing and long i just really had no brain cells left for the work worth only 7% before deducting late submissions penalty (bc brain slow LOL) and the code design criteria and checkstyles. I was so mad that it takes up so much time and effort just to be worth a petty 7% that I gave up entirely didnt even finish reading the questions (which was also pretty darn long). Sorry i am dumb. Please be proud of me I am trying my best.

I have zero idea who in the department decided to rig the difficulty of this project by so much up compared to previous semesters. They really expected too much out of us i am so sorry to disappoint.

Practical Assessments 

Basically similar to weekly lab exercises but you have to do it within the time frame during a lab session. You get to take home and re-edit the code to get the full marks and are moderated according to the changes you made compared to the one submitted during the PA itself. That also means if you do not submit the correct full marks version of the code in a week, you do not get moderated and will be awarded with the marks scored in lab which is obviously 0 for me I had over 70 compilation errors and you might be thinking how. But trust me i am too, confused how. Most people will score around 0-2m in lab but taking it home and refining the whole code with minimal changes and will be graded according to the amount of changes made to get the final code. Tests you how close you can get to the correct outputs within the time frame whether you already had it in your head.

Final Exam

Comes in MCQs, a few case questions consisting of subparts if i remembered correctly some of which required you to write out a possible code (2-3 lines) converting oop to streams, synchronous to asynchronous etc. There are plenty resources (pyps) floating around in the gc so you can use them well for revision.

Theoretical content was tested i dont really know how to put in words but you may be able to code well even though you may have some of the concepts wrong

We only did pure coding work in labs, projects and practical assessments so this really reinforces your understanding of the material

Considering I didnt finish project part 2 this is quite a decent grade already really thankful i dont have to go through this ordeal again. See you never.

BT2101: Decision Making Methods and Tools

Professor: Rudy Sentiono, A.P. Huang Zhiyong

Weightage:

Group project (20%)

Written assignments - 3x 5% (15%)

Tutorial participation (5%)

Midterm - open book (20%)

Finals - open book (40%)

This is the second module that I have been struggling with since the start of the semester. Tutor changed after the first session, the former tutor was much better and clearer in her explanations. This is quite a math-intensive course and requires some knowledge of linear algrebra and thus the pre-requisities. Maths has never been my strong suit (well except in primary school) so I struggled hard with this module. Nearing the end we learnt about deep learning neural networks which was pretty interesting and really broadened my perspectives on the future of machine learning. The pace was okay, but the lecturer seems to just repeat the words on the lecture slides in his lectures. The lectures were seemingly simplified from the reference texts he used but is nevertheless still daunting to look at to revise. Project was a 4-5 people groupwork where we had to conduct all the stages of data analytics from data exploration, cleaning of data to data mining, conclusions etc. There were an additional 3 assignments that we had to do together with our groupmates by the stipulated deadlines. This module requires a lot of work and preparation. Am glad to be able to pass.

BT2102: Data Management and Visualisation

Weightage:

Assignment 1 (Group):  25 marks

Assignment 2 (Individual): 35 marks

Assignment 3 (Group):  30 marks

Class Participation: 10 marks (Participation in Tutorials and Group Assignment Discussions)

IS1103: Ethics in Computing

Weightage:

FPAQ (50%)

Missions (50%)

Expected Grade: B+

Final Grade: A-

For this module, all 13 missions are to be done by the last date of submission for finals which was a 300 question quiz held on LumiNUS. Missions are assigned weekly where we go to the WordPress website the professor has built, a server that he regularly does maintenance on and in it he uses a tracker to track our progress through clicking links and submitting short answer questions sometimes. Most of them were done by clicking of links and we were told to disable our Adblockers if any to prevent interruptions or his system not capturing our data. We were encouraged to do it weekly although the deadline was the end of the semester. One of the missions included us doing some Linux practice penetration questions on Kali, it was a bit tough but other than that the other missions were pretty simple and straightforward. After every mission done we were to do a practice PAQ which is not graded and upon submission would give us the model answers to study in preparation for FPAQ the final week submission. PAQ consists of 5 themes * 7 questions = 35 questions, whereas FPAQ has 300 over questions to be done over the span of a week, the reading week. Carpal tunnel.

GEQ1000: Asking Questions

Weightage: 

Tutorial attendance/participation (36%)

Forum participation - forum 1 and 2 (14%)

MCQ quiz (36%)

Final paper (14%)

This is a general education module everyone in NUS is required to take. I dont think I learned much so I am really only there to go through the motion. There are a few pillars that the department touches on mainly Physics, Engineering, Design, etc to show how the different disciplinary courses are interconnected and how/why is questioning important. Really low maintenance course, we do a 6 or 10 MCQ quiz every week prior to the lecture for that pillar. Tutorial was online via zoom and really low workload in general. Final week was on design and we had to make a wallet for our partner and explain why or how we chose the designs, and also submitting a word essay on our reflections of things we learned.

Update. I only pray to hover above or maintain at this current CAP lemao PLEASE YOU NEED TO