#survived 2 practical & one written exam this week but one of the practical exams went horribly 😭

[cheekblush]

it's been A WEEK

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good 15/18

not my gif just the text. Origins

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a   Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14]

--

Her pulse failed every time she held a quill to write to Charlie; her eyes stung whenever she closed them. At one point she started to feel a constant pressure on her right temple, and it didn’t abandon her during the next weeks that followed her discoveries.

Kate lay on her side in bed, with her arms tucked against herself, protecting the cursed paper that was causing her nightmares, and curled up in a ball. That was her default position every day since then.

She stared at the candle on her table, the only source of light in the room and in her mind. The fire danced and twisted, hypnotising, captivating.

She thought of being somewhere else, with someone else.

What kind of person you must be to fool one of the greatest wizards alive? Dumbledore wasn’t any saint of her devotion, but… he must have known, right? He had to… or perhaps not.

Her breathing was slow and even, she concentrated on it; in and out. In and out. If she kept her eyes opened they stung, but if she closed them… it was worse.

And just like every other night, the candle consumed itself, leaving Kate in total darkness.

“Don’t give up hope.” She had told her students when they saw that none of the umbrella flowers had teeth. “We still have time.”

“We don’t have time! Exams start on Monday and the AEDA is in less than two weeks from now!” Jon had exclaimed.

“What have we done wrong?” Greta had asked.

“Focus on your exams. Remember that you can have your notebook with the greenhouse notes, so make sure it’s complete. I’ll take care of the flowers.”

She didn’t know how. The migraines had intensified, the parchment she hid under her uniform burned her skin every day, every hour, it was a reminder that she had to get out of there as soon as possible. But she had made a promise, and she had to keep it: those plants would have teeth like her name was Kate Williams.

And there, lying in bed unable to see around her, she discovered what had gone wrong with her project: Dark Arts.

After that revelation, Kate went to the library daily to visit the botany section. Corentin deliberately avoided her, being aware of the rumours about them. They had spent a lot of time together these past few months, and inevitably, the castle residents would wonder why.

Deaf to the gossip, the bat kept one eye on the library and one on Kate. Unaware that her friend had her back from above, the young witch devoured pages and pages about crossbreeding, the only activity that kept her from thinking about the list.

 The day before the Herbology exam, Kate was sitting at her usual table going over all the ingredients for the potion she had found. With Jorgensen's help, maybe she could grow those fangs.

Voices made her look up. Before long, an unusual commotion where they were standing deafened those looking for a quiet study area.

She saw Corentin, in his bat form, swiftly descending towards the shouting, and followed his path with her eyes. Two of her students, Vivien and Jon, were arguing heatedly, surrounded by their friends. The librarian didn't have to say a word; he just transformed into a human right in the middle of the two, glaring disapprovingly at them until the children dispersed.

Unwilling to perform her duties as an authority figure and scold her students for misbehaviour, she dipped her quill into the inkwell and began copying down the ingredients she would need. She had barely written two of them when movement out of the corner of her eye distracted her.

At a glance she recognised Vivien, who was deep in thought, and pulled a book out of her backpack grumbling to herself. The girl dropped it on the table with a thump.

"Has he been bothering you?" Kate couldn't help but ask. She didn't look up from the page she was reading. She managed to catch a few words in Vivien's mind, but they blended into each other in a swirl of acidity.

"He's been hounding me all week to study with him. He won't leave me alone." Kate put down the quill then and watched as Vivien pretended to read. "I hope after this he gets the idea."

"He won't bother you anymore today." Kate said after a while, "Remember the exam will be in class 82. You'll do fine." Vivien nodded as Kate gathered her belongings.

After asking Corentin's permission to take the book, she walked over to the table where Jon Hopkins was ogling Vivien in the distance, surrounded by his friends.

"Gather your things," she said without greeting, "You've found a study partner."

The boy looked at her as if she had six arms and as a protest began to form on his lips, Kate interrupted him, "It's non-negotiable. Come on, I don't have all day."

The group around Jon pitied their friend as he reluctantly advanced in front of the young teacher outside the library.

"I have to study." He complained as they made their way down the hallway.

"You will accompany me to see Professor Jorgensen and then to the greenhouse. You will study there while I experiment."

"What if I don't want to study?" He challenged. Kate just shrugged.

"Much better. You'll help me with my duties in the greenhouse and with the umbrella flowers. I recommend you find the will to study. I have a lot to do today."

"But why?"

"Maybe then you'll understand what it feels like to have unwanted company."

 Kent Jorgensen gave Kate the ingredients without complaint. She had expected more resistance from him, had even prepared a speech to get the professor to agree, but it hadn't been necessary. She supposed he would want to maintain some diplomacy between them with a gesture that wouldn't set off the time bomb that could destroy professor Angelov's career and life.

Once in the greenhouse, Jon sat in the seat furthest away from her and leaned his elbows on the table pretending to read his notes while Kate waved her wand back and forth.

An array of pots, bottles and boxes surrounded her and with a sigh she set about preparing her potion.

The concoction was composed of a mixture of compounds of both plant and animal origin that Kate had never used before and when mixed together, it flooded the greenhouse with a putrid smell.

After two hours, a small explosion of a suspicious liquid, one miscalculation and several incorrect consistencies, Kate managed to obtain the muddy-looking concoction, which she had to leave to steep for fifteen minutes. It was time for the key part of the process: introducing the desired characteristic into the potion.

Jon looked up from his notebook wearily and watched in disgust as Kate cleaned the inside of a geranium's mouth before pulling a fang out of one of them with forceps.

"Why did you say 'sorry' to it?" The boy asked. Kate looked at him in confusion, waiting for him to elaborate further. "You apologised to the geranium." Kate tsked.

"Well, I just knocked his tooth out. He must not have been amused." She set the tusk down in a glass bowl and proceeded cleaning her workbench.

"You're strange... I mean..." Jon stammered out a few words at the look on Kate's face, who misinterpreted her frown as anger. "It's just... you're good. And kind. Like Professor Mawut." Kate smiled.

"Thank you very much, Jon." She raised an eyebrow and added, "But you're not getting rid of me today." He pursed his lips and returned to his notes.

Movement through the glass of the greenhouse caught her attention and squinting she caught a glimpse of Mer Yankelevich hurrying over the bridge towards the forest. Libor Marek was at her heels.

Marek grabbed the teacher's arm and something he said stopped her in her tracks. After a while, Mer released her grip and retraced her steps towards the castle, leaving Marek watching her from a distance.

"Professor Marek is very brutish." Jon commented, having seen the scene as well. Kate tilted her head, agreeing with the comment, and proceeded to grab the fang with a pair of tweezers. She dipped it into the potion and waited as the tooth disintegrated on contact.

"What do you think of Professor Yankelevich?" She asked absently. Jon grimaced and shrugged.

"She's okay, I guess. She's been pretty angry lately, though."

"Angry with you?" Jon shrugged again. He glanced over to where the two teachers had been having the conversation and turned back to Kate. "Professor Marek has been arguing with her a lot," he whispered, "I don't know why... it's almost lunchtime..."

"Great. I'll finish this and we'll eat together." Jon let out a frustrated sigh and rested his head on his fist. "We shouldn't pry into their business." Kate grimaced hearing herself say that.

She swirled the potion with her wand six times to the left and then eleven times to the right. With each twist, the liquid grew thicker and thicker until it hardened so much that the wand had become trapped inside. But she was not to let go of it, no. The instructions clearly stated that there had to be contact with the wizard for at least five minutes.

Practically breathless, she watched as the stone began to crack from the centre of the wand, slowly breaking into a brown powder. She sighed in relief at the desired result and wiped her wand on her overalls.

After adding water, the end result was a bowl of what appeared to be, but nothing could be further from the truth, soil.

She excitedly sprinkled some of it on all the pots of umbrella flowers, and after watering them, covered them all with a leather tarp.

"Tomorrow we'll know if it worked."

 --

Kate watched her students work through the test she had prepared for them. After nearly an hour and a half, she stood up to relieve her stiff muscles. She walked between the rows of children sitting individually and checked out of the corner of her eye that they were only looking at their parchment. A small, fleeting smile broke out on her face, proud to see that most of the pupils were writing with admirable concentration. Some of them, like Micael Angelov, had supplemented their writing with small sketches.

When she reached the end of the class, she went the other way and leaned against the door.

“You have fifteen minutes left,” she remarked, glancing at the clock.

Young Angelov was the first to stand up. Securing his backpack over one shoulder, he handed the parchment to Kate with a shy smile.

“How did it go?” She checked that he’d written his name and looked up waiting for his response.

“Pretty good.”

Kate nodded with a smile and stepped away from the door to make way for him. A voice whispered her name behind her back and Vivien appeared to hand her her exam paper. Kate repeated the question.

“Very good! It was easy... although I didn’t remember you were going to ask about our herbarium... but I was able to answer them. Professor Williams, are you coming to the Glow-bug shower?”

“What’s that?” she whispered, indicating to Vivien to do the same.

“Professor Rhode explained to us that every year thousands of glow-bugs appear and light up all the mountains. It’s Thursday night. According to her, it’s very exciting.”

 Apparently, Astrid was right. In her healer’s uniform, spelled to withstand the cold, and her hood hiding her ears and forehead, Kate made her way through the crowd in one of the castle towers. She found a gap near the stone wall overlooking the quidditch pitch and rested her hands on the stone.

It was the one night of the year when students were allowed to roam the castle at midnight, on the occasion of the very particular event that was about to take place.

She raised her hand to her neck, adjusting her cloak to protect herself from the cold, and looked up. A blanket of infinite dots stretched above them. The stars guarded the terrain from high above, and with no clouds, they were perfectly visible from any point. Despite the voices and the shouting, there was something about watching the sky that left Kate in awe and isolated from the rest of the world.

She took a deep breath, imagining Charlie next to her, stretched out, side by side on the lawn of the Burrow, hands casually brushing and competing to prove who had been paying more attention in Astronomy.

“It’s bright out tonight,” a low, husky voice brought her back to the present, “At least it’s not a full moon, in which case they’d be unnoticeable.”

She looked down to find Professor Marek standing next to her. She raised her eyebrows, “I didn’t think seeing glow-worms would interest you, Professor.”

“There are many things that interest me, Miss Williams, not just winning duels.” he replied in a monotone voice. “I didn’t know you‘d be interested in this sort of thing... always stuck in that greenhouse of yours with dirt on your fingers. Have you had enough of flowers and leaves?”

Kate huffed, but didn’t take the bait. She merely averted her gaze to her left, where another tower of the castle contained the same number of people as there were around her. Marek also looked around, but didn’t move his feet from the ground. Kate suspected she would have an escort during the event. The question was, why?

The torches on the stone walls around them suddenly went out, raising the murmurs and impatient exclamations of the children. Kate and Marek turned their heads as they heard Professor Yankelevich’s shriek, pleading for silence.

“I remember you were good with protective spells,” challenged Marek

“I can defend myself.” The professor nodded and looked at the tower next door waiting for the signal. A light from a wand announced the teachers were ready to begin.

“We’re going to create a bubble around us, make sure it’s not too high.”

Numerous wands rose into the air, coming from different parts of the castle. A silvery layer began to form over their heads, spreading at full speed through the air from the highest point of the castle to the ground. Once every stone and corner of the place was encircled, the colour of the dome faded until it was completely transparent, invisible to the human eye.

There was a collective urge to hold one’s breath. The anticipation was beginning to be palpable, and even Kate noticed how her body leaned forward, as if to concentrate better.

A tiny spark came into view in the mountains. It was an intense white light, but very small, so small that after a few seconds it disappeared. The general disappointment dissipated as dozens of lights began to scatter in the distance, then hundreds, and before long, the stars seemed noticeably extinguished by the cascade of glow worms drifting in the wind.

Kate had only ever seen one glow worm in her life; in a Care of Magical Creatures class where Kettleburn had brought one inside a jar to show how some people used to use them as lamps. The problem was, and also the reason the teachers conjured up a protective bubble, glow-bugs were deadly.

“Takes your breath away, doesn’t it?” commented Marek without looking away.

She nodded, mouth half-open, gawking at the scene before her eyes; the glow-worms were slowly approaching through the air, carried by the breeze to their heads. The creature comprised a transparent shell that resembled the shape of a Muggle light bulb. Inside was the worm, curled in on itself and emitting an incandescent light.

Several of them bounced off the invisible barrier, creating an almost hypnotic effect on the onlookers. The entire castle was under such a blinding spotlight everyone was forced to squint or shield themselves with their hands.

The worms had scattered within moments; some had strayed into the forest, some into the mountains, and the rest had descended the cliffs, leaving the castle in its usual gloom.

Kate turned to Marek the moment the torches were lit again. A particular, never-before-seen gleam decorated the professor’s eyes, which, as the seconds passed, transformed his gaze into a deep, watery unhappiness.

Marek pulled himself together quickly and as much as Kate longed to know the reason for such emotion, she kept her mouth shut and waited patiently for some dry, cutting remark to ease the tension.

“I don’t know my parents. They died when I was very young.” He proclaimed instead. She stood still, afraid to shoo him away like a bird perching in one’s window to say hello. Despite there being so many people around them, the rest of the teachers were ordering them back to the dormitories, giving them some ironic privacy. Marek was staring off into the distance, “But I have a memory, a very vivid one, of a situation like this. It’s like an anniversary for me, I don’t know what, but that’s how I see it.”

A cruel idea flashed through her mind, one that she was dying to spit in his face, but for the sake of their diplomatic relationship she held back inside her. Her eyes began to burn, and she cursed to herself for being so emotional lately. She carved a frown into her forehead to keep her tears from spilling.

“My adoptive parents never knew where I got such a story...”

“And despite...” she couldn’t hold back, her words would be hurtful and she knew it, but she blurted them out to his face all the same, “And despite not knowing your origins, which may well be non-magical, you make a point of despising those who are different from you. You could be a muggleborn.”

Marek peeled his eyes from the mountains and looked at her with his characteristic sternness. The facade had returned to his face and his heart was shut tight.

“No,” he hissed, “my blood is clean.”

Mer Yankelevich was pushing the last student into the building when he made eye contact with Kate. Surely she had been watching the entire exchange, she thought.

Professor Jorgensen appeared through the door at that instant, averting his gaze to Kate and Marek and then to Mer, intermittently. He closed the door behind him and both professors approached them.

“You’ll never be completely sure of that.” Kate shook her head at his comment, wondering why she’d been so concerned about his feelings. The professor turned sharply and without a goodbye, stomped off to enter the castle and disappeared from sight.

“Is Libor all right?” asked Yankelevich.

“He looks really obfuscated, but that’s usual.”

Kate took a step back, suddenly feeling irrationally cornered.

“He’s been acting strangely for some time now, and an unpredictable Libor can be dangerous.” said Mer.

Jorgensen turned to her, “To my mind, Libor is not an irrational creature...”

“Believe me, I know him well. We should stay away from him for a while, let him clear his head.”

“I don’t understand what you mean, Professor,” Kate said, a little upset. Mer walked over to her, holding her gaze.

“If you spend more time with us, you’ll understand that it’s better to give Libor his space. By the way, the year is coming to an end. Will you still be the Herbology teacher next year? From what I hear, Rhode is thrilled with you.”

“And so are the kids.” Jorgensen pointed out, also interested in knowing Kate’s response.

“I haven’t discussed it with Rhode yet...”

“But you’d like to stay on?” insisted Yankelevich.

“It’s been an interesting opportunity, of course, but...” The conversation was entering swampy territory and as eloquent as Kate could be, she was struggling to find the right words. In the end, following her mother’s advice, she opted to speak a truth. “I’m very lonely.”

“Ah,” nodded Jorgensen, “That’s the effect Durmstrang can have, yes. I bet you’re eager to get home as soon as possible, wherever that is.” Kate nodded slowly, recognising a small, complicit smile on the professor’s face, making her remember their talk months ago.

“Exactly.”

Yankelevich hummed, inspecting Kate closely. Uncomfortable with the interrogation and impatient to regain the safety of her room, she said a hasty goodbye and headed for the door leading to the stairs, leaving Jorgensen and Yankelevich in the starlight.

--

[Part 16]

A/N: Not a very exciting chapter I know, but still important. The end is near my friends.

--

Tag List: @eldritchscreech @meteora-fc​

@cazreadsstuff 

@the-navistar-carol​

@am-i-space​

[joaquinwhorres]

The Fool (Ch. 2) {Fred Weasley x F!OC}

SUMMARY ››››› After getting tangled up with the Weasley Twins during the events of the Quidditch World Cup, Wren Collings’ life takes a turn for the chaotic. It threatens everything she has going for her, but she’s not convinced that’s entirely a bad thing.

PAIRING ››››› Fred Weasley x Female OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 7,000-ish

WARNINGS ››››› There is no depression or mental health issues in this story, but there are mentions of death, violence, abuse, some PTSD, etc. As most of the specific warnings revolve around major plot points or are found throughout most chapters, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG-13.

A/N ››››› This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Emma. You KNOW why.

Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net

Wren wasn’t sure who was right, if it was Simon or the cards or her gut feeling about this year: all she knew for sure was that NEWT classes, and not the Triwizard Tournament, would be the death of her.

The last part was a bit of a disappointment, not so much that she wanted to die in a blaze of glory, but she would have at least liked the chance. Sadly, her June birthday saw to the fact that she would be a supporter and not a competitor.

Her small silver lining (more dull grey than a true silver) was that it was one less thing to worry about on top of her classes. McGonagall’s warning when passing over her time table that this year would have a “demanding workload” was apparently code for “grueling affair with death itself.”

Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed fixated on killing her through the traditional means of excessive school work, but the rest seemed to approach her death in a more “hands on” manner.

Herbology seemed intent on strangulation as Professor Sprout has decided to begin with snargaluffs and venomous tentacula. Dodging the slippery and spiky spines soon became second nature.

Hagrid has decided to introduce them to, if not venomous, exceedingly dangerous animals. Currently the class was in the process of telling jokes to Fwoopers as an alternative method to the silencing charm. Leave it to Hagrid to find out that they just click their beak when laughing. Of course, the untraditional method had already put Kenneth Towler and Amina Qureshi into the hospital wing to treat their minor insanity. But, all things considered it was a nice reprieve.

For its part, Potions had started off the year with poisons and their antidotes, which while extremely fascinating was somewhat nerve racking. Wren was fairly certain that at some point Snape would attempt to poison her as the lone Gryffindor in NEWT level potions. That minor fear, in addition to her particular love for the magic, drove her to devoting most of her studying hours to the class.

Which seemed to come in handy now as Snape began to pass out his unannounced quiz to the class. To Wren's surprise and mild relief, it was not a practical quiz but instead a written one. She assumed this was in an attempt to catch out students with trick questions which could otherwise be avoided as long as their potions worked.

In fact, as Wren reached question four, she was sure of it:

I am called in to the Hospital Wing once again because a careless Herbology student has failed to properly cork the juice of a Venomous Tentacula and has gotten some on their skin. What condition do I find him in, and how will I cure it?

She remembered this one as it had been a precaution Professor Sprout had failed to give them. She had simply instructed them not to let any get on their skin, and it was only in potions that Snape had revealed why. It had been more of a side comment in his lecture antidotes for the plant's other means of attack: bite, spike, and venom.

The student will be a bright shade of purple, and depending on how much juice he has come in contact with, complain of a faint burning sensation. The student should also feel quite embarrassed about their negligence. No antidote is truly needed except time which will hopefully make them more careful. Should you choose to cure them, however, the quickest effective cure would be a tincture of  muddled fluxweed, shredded boomslang skin, and leech juice. The student will be extremely pale instead for a few days, but it might be preferable to the purple colour.

Wren reread her answer and felt that all loopholes were closed before she moved on to the next question.

A student suddenly collapses in the middle of class during last hour and slowly turns to stone. She has come into contact with no plants or creatures and eaten and drank of nothing since lunch. What were they poisoned with and what is the antidote?

Wren twirled her quill in her hands. Come into contact with nothing but suddenly turned into stone. They could have seen a basilisk? No, that only petrified people, it didn't turn them into stone. Could they have a Gorgon run into their class? Unlikely unless the student was in the Grecian Isles. And that was a sudden turning. This student slowly turned into stone.

It hit her, thinking of islands. Naghinbato Brew.

The student was likely dosed with Naghinbato Brew during their lunch. This poison is undetectable aside from its slight tang and it takes approximately four hours to begin affecting the person poisoned. If the student was lucky enough to fall over with her mouth open, a Wiggenweld potion with some Mandrake roots brewed in after the salamander's blood would reverse the effects. If not, an Adarna must be brought in to sing the student awake.

The remainder of the questions proved to be more and more tricky so that by the end Wren hoped for nothing but essays and practical exams for the rest of the year. The wording of each question proved difficult to navigate and at the end as she packed up her bag to leave for Defense Against the Dark Arts, she found herself casting a look at Snape who had begun to grade the quizzes and looked very much like he had just smelled something unpleasant.

Wren turned and headed out the door, eager to put the past hour behind her.

"Hey, Wren." Quick footsteps caught up to her as Cedric appeared to her left. As the only Hufflepuff in Potions, the pair had taken to sitting together as the sole representatives of their respective houses. Wren had to admit, she hadn't expected to see him on the first day of class. Nora had always claimed he was brilliant, but it had never quite shown through in any of the classes they had together. "How do you think it went?" Cedric asked, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Wren shook her head. "I don't know. Has he even taught us any antidotes involving the dirt of a child's grave? Or was that just a veiled threat?"

Cedric chuckled. "They use it against Amnetias."

"Of course," Wren moaned.

"What combination of poisons did you list as the components for that last one. I got Angel's Trumpet Draught but what caused the vertigo?

"I said Syrup of Hellebore."

Cedric winced. "Missed that one."

"Your antidote could still work," Wren shrugged, making her way up the stairs as Cedric walked behind her. The two of them pressed close to the walls as a flood of nervous looking Hufflepuff first-years descended down the stairs. Poor kids.

"Not likely," Cedric said. "I used a creature-based remedy for the vertigo."

"Ah well," Wren sighed. "At least we'll all get D's together." Cedric laughed at this and they continued the rest of the way up. The two exited the stairwell, heading towards the classroom that had been the talk of the school recently.

Quite frankly, Dumbledore should have hired an ex-Auror much sooner. Professor Lupin had been good--loads better than Lockhart or Quirrell, or Merlin-forbid, the ghoulish woman Wren had her first year--but Moody, he had lived this. His very first lesson for all of the students 4th through 6th year had been showing the Unforgiveable Curses. Today they were supposed to be practicing resisting the Imperius Curse. This was real education.

Wren entered the classroom, peeling off from Cedric who walked over towards where Nora was sitting with their other Hufflepuff friends. Instead Wren sat at the desk across the aisle from her dorm mates-- Angelina and Alicia.

It was pitiful how quickly Wren had given into the Imperius Curse.

Unsurprisingly, Fred Weasley had been the longest hold out, beating George by a full twenty seconds. Wren suspected it had something to do with their natural inclination to ignore any given directive, but Lee Jordan hadn't done as well as Angelina, and she was by far the most rule-abiding in their friend group.

Wren spent a good portion of the rest of her week practising fortifying herself against being Imperiused so as not to embarrass herself the next lesson.

Her timing wasn't much better.

She largely chalked this up to mental exhaustion after the previous afternoon's brutal double Potions lesson. Snape had clearly been seeking retribution for the class's quiz scores. While Wren had managed to earn an E on hers, it seemed the rest of the class had not been so careful reading the questions if Snape's rant about their inattention to the finer details and nuances of potion making was any indication.

So, after that lesson on Wednesday, being Imperiused on Thursday, and failing to to transfigure her raccoon on Friday, Wren felt completely spent and ill prepared for the mountain of homework awaiting her this weekend.

"I'm not going to survive NEWT classes," Wren griped, laying her head down on her arm and giving her eyes a rest from her Charms textbook, instead gazing at a sideways Simon who looked up at her from across the table.

"You're not going to die," he shook his head, returning his eyes to his parchment. "Nora didn't read it in your cards."

Wren rolled her eyes at the sarcastic joke and propped her head back up on her palm. She might have been more annoyed at the lack of sympathy if it weren't for the fact that she brought up how busy and stressed she was each time he saw her. It was a miracle he put up with her, really. She doubted anyone else would.

"You're right," she agreed. "But, a study break couldn't hurt. We've got ten minutes 'til dinner. Plenty of time to pack up and go to our corner..." She dropped her hand and leaned towards him. Simon looked up from his work again, this time giving her a small smile as he came forward and kissed her gently and far, far too briefly. He sat back into his chair, leaving Wren hovering over the center of the table.

"I wish we could," he sighed, picking up his quill. "Truly." His eyes raked down her face to the opening of her blouse. Wren's face heated up, and she returned to her chair. "But I have to get this done. My weekend's packed as is, and they rescheduled Wizard's Chess Club to tonight so I already have less time than usual."

Wren pouted "I know," she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I just miss you is all. I haven't seen you all week."

It hadn't been that either of them was avoiding the other--this year it just seemed like their time tables filled up too quickly with barely enough room to squeeze in each other. Each of their classes seemed to meet at opposite times so they never had a free period together. Time after dinner was largely devoted to clubs, homework, studying, and prefect duties with the weekends looking largely the same with the addition of Simon's commitments to his Ravenclaw friends and tutoring of younger students. The only small bit of time they had together during the week was the hour right before dinner on Fridays.

"Wren," Simon said, his voice taking on a slight edge. "I'm doing my best, ok?"

Wren's cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. She hadn't meant to insinuate that he wasn't. She wanted to whine about how Hogwarts seemed to be plotting against them, not whine about him.

"It's my seventh year. I sit NEWTs in June. If you think professors are giving you too much, just wait 'til next year. It's all I can do to keep my head above the water. Between that and my duties," he paused, running a hand through his hair and breaking off the sentence. "When we meet to study, all I can do is study. I want to spend time with you, but I can't afford to just muck about this year."

Wren nodded, sinking back into her chair. She needed to stop complaining. She needed to make the most of their time together. She needed to remember the lessons she had learned from her parents' own marriage dynamic of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. That the Ravenclaw would always focus on the goals and achievements, but couldn't function without the Gryffindor by their side. He did need her. He did want her. She had to just get over this.

This wasn't last year.

For the remainder of their time together, the pair worked in silence. Or, at least, Simon worked. Wren re-read the same paragraph out of her textbook three different times. The silence continued even as they packed up to go to dinner and most of the way down the corridor.

Suddenly Simon tugged Wren by the arm to the side of the hall, the movement leading her to gasp in surprise. He stood before her for a second, looking down at his shoes. "I'm sorry," he apologized, dropping his hand from her arm to hold her hand. "I'm just stressed."

Wren nodded quietly, her eyes also on his navy blue and white wing tips.

"I already hate how little we get to see each other, and when you brought it up--it felt like you were trying to make me feel guilty. And it worked."

"I wasn't trying," Wren said, smally. "I was being honest."

Simon tucked a finger under her chin, tilting it up so he could press another kiss to her lips. This one was far harder than the one in the library, and soon his hands moved to her waist and behind her neck, pulling her against him. Wren's brain had just caught up with the moment, allowing her to tug at the front of his robes when he broke away and leaned his forehead against hers. Tingles still raced to her nerve endings as her body buzzed from the kiss. Simon's kisses always seemed to linger--or perhaps, echo was the right word. The sweetness of the library had lasted longer than the kiss, and the dizziness of this kiss…

"We'll figure it out, ok?" Simon asked. "It's the beginning of the year. Once things settle, we'll find more time."

Wren hummed in agreement, kissing him quickly and chastely before following him off towards dinner.

Weekends hardly felt like the weekend anymore. No time with Simon. No sightings of Nora. Even her dorm mates were out of the Gryffindor tower in various parts of the castle. Everything seemed to pass in a blur. One moment she was eating breakfast on Saturday morning, and the next it was Sunday evening and she was hunched over a stack of Transfigurations books in a corner of the common room. Wren sighed as a fifth year boy burst out laughing as an Exploding Snap tower blew up in his friend's face. The noise was getting too much for both her concentration and her nerves, so, gathering up her books, she retreated up to her dorm, spreading out the materials on her bed.

An hour later, she jolted awake to the door flying open. Wren's pulse raced as she extracted her cheek from the page of her textbook and blinked around to see what had happened. Alicia stood just inside, tears streaming down her face. She also seemed surprised to see Wren, half sitting up amongst her materials with her hair sticking to her face.

"Oh, hullo, Wren," she greeted, hastily wiping at her eyes while studiously avoiding Wren's gaze.

Wren lifted herself up to a seating position, her face creasing in worry. She wished she had Nora's natural instinct to know what to do in situations like this. Did she ask questions? Pretend like she didn't notice the tears? Leave?

"Hi," Wren said gently.

Alicia walked over to her bed, bending over to pull off her shoes. She succeeded in unlacing one and threw it to the floor with much more aggression than the shoe could possibly have deserved.

"Are you all right?" Wren asked dumbly, cringing the second the question came out of her mouth. It was exceedingly obvious, even to her, that Alicia was very much not all right.

"I'll be ok," Alicia brushed aside, fighting with the other shoe.

"Ok," Wren nodded, despite the fact that Alicia still refused to look at Wren.

"Is Angelina around?" Alicia's voice came out tight and high.

Wren winced. "I think she's in the library with Lee."

Alicia nodded, evidently not trusting her voice for a response.

"If you'd like, I'll fetch her," Wren offered. Because that was the decent thing to do right? That was the right solution? Before she could get a response, Wren hedged her bets. "But also if you want, I'm a decent listener."

"It's stupid," Alicia dismissed, despite the fact that her voice seemed to crack around the word.

"Given the fact that I haven't seen you cry more than twice over the past six years, I doubt that."

"It's just...boys are morons," Alicia sat down on her bed, and Wren got up from hers, humming in agreement with Alicia's statement as she crossed the room, sinking down into the bed next to her dorm mate. She lifted her arm to put it around Alicia's shoulders before moving to pull her hair back over her shoulder as if that's what she had always intended to do. She couldn't remember: was it Angelina or Alicia who didn't like to be touched? She had to be the world's worst dorm mate. It was a miracle they even tolerated her.

"And which boy in specific is the moron that made you cry?"

Wren had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.

"Thom Spiro."

While she had expected it, she still had no idea what to say  hearing the name of the boy Alicia fancied fall from her lips. Guessing what he did hardly seemed appropriate, but given the wide range of idiocy common in the teenage boys of Hogwarts, asking seemed to be a dangerous option too. So instead, she sat next to Alicia and tentatively looped her arms around her in what she hoped was not the most awkward hug to ever be given. Whether or not it was, Alicia fell into Wren, her crying picking up.

"I caught him kissing Louisa Finch."

Wren's spine straightened, but she didn't say anything.

"Last night--we were fooling around, and he wanted--" Alicia sobbed, seemingly unable to continue as she buried herself into Wren's shoulder. "I said no. I shouldn't have--"

"No," Wren said, firmly. "Absolutely not. You're not finishing that thought."

Alicia sniffed. "But--maybe--"

"No," Wren repeated, shaking her head. "You're not for his use. Obviously he doesn't want a companion, he just wants something he can stick his knob into. You're more than that."

Alicia let out a watery laugh. "I can't believe you said knob."

"What else do you call it?" Wren asked, and Alicia laughed a bit harder. Spotting a bit of success, Wren smiled. "He's a wanker. A tosser. A prick. A dickhead. A pants thinker. A broomstick with no lift. A magicless wand. I'm just guessing on the last two."

Alicia wiped at her eyes, extracting herself from Wren's hug. "I wouldn't know."

"Because you're smart,"  Wren said, grabbing Alicia's hand and squeezing it. "If you're not ready, you're not ready. It's better to wait than dive in too soon."

A pause settled between them as Alicia silently nodded seeming to think over the statement. "You're right, but--" she swallowed, and Wren could see the tears begin to gather in her eyes again. "It still hurts."

Behind her Wren heard the door to the dorm open and she looked over her shoulder to see Angelina.

"What happened?" she asked, the tone of her voice hinting that she already suspected exactly the story she was going to hear. Alicia filled her in quickly, adding a few more details that had been lost to sobs when she told Wren. All the while, Angelina listened, her face growing stonier and stonier. "Well, you know what we have to do now," she said simply.

Alicia nodded. "Can you?"

Wren looked between the two girls, her brow creased in confusion. "Sorry, I feel like I'm missing something."

Angelina turned her attention to Wren with an echo of amusement on her face. "We have to tell the twins."

It was impressive how much food Fred and George were able to knick in just a half hour. Crisps, popcorn, apple tarts, pumpkin pasties, oranges, treacle fudge, nut brittle, and butterbeer were all placed in the center of the floor of the boys' dorm. Wren and Katie had managed to scrape together a decent stash of other candies like Fizzing Whizzbees, Sugar Quills, Liquorice Wands, and Acid Pops while Lee had convinced the other sixth year boys to leave the dorm and done an impressive job cleaning. Either that, or the boys were a lot neater than Wren would have ever expected.

Wren reached forward, grabbing a new bottle of butter beer and tapping her wand to the top so the bottle cap flipped off.

"Alright are we going to keep avoiding it or should we get to the business of bashing Spiro?" Fred asked, rubbing his hands together. "I've got some excellent remarks on the spelling of his name."

"Come on Freddie, that’s too easy," George admonished, plucking up a handful of crisps. "Let’s get straight to the point that he's a disgrace to Ravenclaw House."

Wren choked on her butterbeer, and Katie reached over to pat her back some as she attempted to pull herself together. Angelina looked more amused at Wren's reaction than the comment, and Alicia turned rather glum as she twirled a sugar quill between her fingers.

"I'm sure there's plenty of boys in Ravenclaw who have done the same," Alicia sighed, lifting the tip of the quill so she could nibble on it.

"No doubt. Boys are horrid," George agreed. "But even amongst the ranks of Roger Davies and Hector Martín-Delgado,  Spiro has a particular brain. One might even liken it to a troll's."

Fred nodded. "He's got to be the dullest of the lot. Not quite sure how he got in, frankly."

"No bloke in their right mind would choose Louisa Finch over you," Lee added, nudging Alicia with his shoulder. The corner of her mouth ticked up.

"That's one thing for sure, but the larger issue is--why snog in a public corridor if you're attempting to run around with as many girls as possible?" George asked.

Even Alicia laughed this time, spitting bits of sugar quill out of her mouth before clamping a hand over it.

"A fair question, George," Fred acknowledged, toasting him with his butterbeer. "There are plenty of empty classrooms for that."

"Or any of the not-so-secret passages," Katie added.

"Behind a tapestry," Angelina shrugged.

"In the woods at night," George suggested.

"Anyone on the grounds, really." Wren put in quickly.

Alicia smiled. "He's not exactly the best at finding spots for...rendezvous. Last time I tried to meet him, I ended up with you and Norah Randolph." Alicia gestured at Wren. This thought seemed to deflate her a bit. "It must be nice to have a boyfriend. You don't have to worry about the running around together bit."

“I wouldn’t know,” George quipped, popping some Fizzing Whizzbees into his mouth.

Alicia reached over and smacked his arm. George flinched away with a chuckle, his body slowly lifting off the floor as he tossed the rest of the sweets in his hand into his mouth. “I was talking to Wren,” Alicia corrected.

“You have a boyfriend?” Fred’s eyebrows shot up as he looked over at her, locking eyes. Her stomach flipped and she paused mid lick of her Acid Pop.

“Where was he at the Cup?” George asked. She felt more than saw his eyes on her.

Wren swallowed, clearing her throat of all sugar. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having. Not ever really, but particularly not now. “He was on holiday.”

“You may very well be on holiday, but you come back for the Cup!” Fred said, indignantly. As if Simon’s absence from the Quidditch World Cup was a particular affront to Fred’s own honor as a fan of the sport.

Wren returned her focus to the acid pop at hand. With any luck it would burn a hole through her tongue in the next twenty seconds, and she’d have an excuse to end this conversation before it steered into unwanted territory. “Well, he’s not particularly a Quidditch fan.”

“What particularly is he then?” George asked.

“Simon Chambers,” Wren answered, sticking the lollipop back into her mouth and deciding that she would not take it out under any circumstances.

“Simon Chambers? Really? You and him?” Fred asked. The shock in his voice was a bit offensive.

Before Wren could break her own resolve–which might have had something to do with why she couldn’t manage to stay un-Imperiused-- Angelina stepped in. “They’ve been dating almost two years,” Angelina looked between the twins. “How did you not know?”

The twins shared a look, and shit, shit, shit.

“Well, I just never would have seen it. You, George?”

“No, never.” No one asked Lee, but he shook his head.

Despite the small wave of relief, her stomach still felt as if it was twisted in knots, and she wished very much that all of the attention was off of her. “Look this isn’t about my love life, this is about celebrating Alicia for narrowly avoiding dating a troll’s tit.”

“Collings! Your language!” George gasped, holding a hand to his chest.

“You should have heard her earlier tirade,” Alicia said, grabbing a licorice wand from Lee’s hand.

Wren once again took the acid pop out of her mouth to defend herself. “It was hardly a tirade. None of the words I said were that bad.”

Alicia crossed her arms. “Would you use them in front of your mother?”

Wren opened her mouth but before she could get a word in, Fred followed up the question.

“Would you use them in front of McGonagall.”

Wren’s mouth snapped shut and the boys laughed.

Katie shook her head. “Never would have expected that out of you, Wren.”

“I never would have expected it out of Simon Chambers’ girlfriend,” Fred remarked.

Wren cast him a sour look, and he laughed loudly, but the subject was dropped, and they returned to eating unhealthy amounts of junk, devising new insults for Thom Spiro, and escaping all of the things that truly sucked about being a 6th year.

Despite the fact that she had to spend two hours, first thing in the morning, avoiding plants attempting to kill her, Wren found Herbology to be a bit of a reprieve. Even today as Professor Sprout taught them to wrangle with a Venomous Tentacula in order to effectively and moderately safely collect the plant’s juice, Wren felt as if she was able to breathe in the Greenhouse.

Part of this she attributed to her mother. Having grown up with a Herbologist of some note, a good amount of Wren’s childhood was spent in the gardens and greenhouses her mother tended. Of course, her mother had never let her get near anything quite so interesting as the plants at Hogwarts, but she’d always quite enjoyed tending to the honking daffodils and umbrella flowers.

Her young training had certainly come in handy during the early years of Herbology, but even now as she collected vial after vial of the juice. Wren backed away from the plant, casting an eye around the greenhouse. Many students seemed to still be struggling getting near the plants, while others, like Fred Weasley, seemed to have no issue getting near the plant but couldn’t quite figure out how to draw out the juice. She continued looking around, her eyes landing on Thom Spiro who was currently standing far too close to Caroline Purvis. She giggled as she held the vial up to the plant, and he stepped even closer, almost forgetting his role as a distractor for the plant.

Wren’s jaw clenched. George was right. Boys were horrid, and Thom Spiro was a special sort. He deserved a serious bit of justice.

As she set the vials in their holder to be brought up to Professor Sprout when class ended, an awful idea struck Wren.

It made her smile.

With one eye on Professor Sprout who was busy helping Arlan Summers and Tom Dalgliesh with their plant, Wren corked a vial, wrapped it in cloth, and stuck it in her bag.

Herbology ended soon after, some pairs, like Wren, scoring as many as four while others had nothing but a few tears in their robes to show for their morning.

Quickly, Wren made her way up the hill towards the courtyard where she could study before lunch. She had just picked out a spot lawn when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned, staring harder as if that would make things make more sense.

Alicia and Nora were….hugging?

It was none of her business. She should really sit down and open up a textbook and focus on her studies and not be walking across the courtyard right now.

"Hi?" Wren cast a look between the two girls.

"Hullo Wren," Alicia said, the words coming out a bit muffled because of the sweet she was chewing. Wren turned her attention to Nora, squinting at her cousin as if that would explain why she was suddenly such close friends to Alicia. Alicia, Wren's dorm mate, whom Nora had had maybe three classes with in her entire Hogwarts career.

As both girls looked at Wren somewhat expectantly, it hit her that she probably should have come up with some excuse to be coming over to say hello. "Hi," Wren repeated again, this time more as a statement than a question. "I just wanted to catch Nora, for a second."

"Yes?" Nora asked, tilting her head slightly.

Shit.

"Mum said to ask if Aunt Kathleen had sent you my color changing ink. She thinks I must have left it at your house when we got back from shopping."

Nora shook her head. "No, mum hasn't sent anything yet...I thought I saw that in your trunk?"

Shit. Shit.  Wren was saved from having to attempt another lie by Alicia.

"Wait--are you two cousins? I always thought you were neighbors or met on the train."

Nora laughed heartily. "I know it's hard for me to believe this moody one is my blood," she teased, poking Wren.

"To be fair, we are practically neighbors. It's just the two houses between us," Wren said, batting Nora's hand away as the other girl continued to poke Wren in the arm.

"Blimey," Alicia shook her head. "I'm just as bad as Fred and George aren't I?"

Wren wanted to assure her that she wasn't. The fact that Alicia even knew Wren was dating Simon was purely because Wren  had asked her for advice to help get dressed for their first date. The only reason Wren had known that Alicia fancied Thom was more due to Lee announcing it to the common room one afternoon at the end of last year than because of any kind of closeness between the girls. But Wren didn't get the chance because Nora spun to face her.

"Oh?" she asked, her voice going up an octave. "How's that?"

"They didn't know she was dating Simon Chambers."

“Well can’t blame them for that one,” Nora's voice returned to normal as she once more turned to Alicia, ignoring Wren's glare. “You two are never around each other.”

“Our schedules don’t match," Wren defended flatly.

Even though she wasn't facing her, Wren could see the small twinkle in Nora's eyes. “Would you say it’s…'an unavoidable conflict'?”

Wren groaned, and Nora laughed again. "Told you Wren. Divination is serious magic. Anyway," Nora flipped her plait over her shoulder. "I'm supposed to meet Arlan and Cedric so we can do some Astronomy work before lunch. Keep me updated," she added to Alicia who nodded in agreement. With that, Nora was off leaving Wren and Alicia together.

"I can't believe I didn't know Nora Randolph was your cousin!" Alicia shook her head, moving out into the courtyard. Wren followed her.

"I didn't know you were friends."

"We're not really. Or at least, we weren't," Alicia said, selecting a shady spot under a tree and sitting down. Wren hesitated before putting her own bag down and sitting beside the other girl. "We have Ancient Runes together. With Thom."

Wren's eyes widened. "Oh."

"She saw me looking miserable yesterday and made her partner switch chairs with me. Next thing I know, she's passing me toffees and I'm telling her the whole story."

Wren shook her head with a small laugh. “That sounds like Nora.”

Alicia began unpacking some parchment and books from her own bag. "There's not anything in those toffees is there? Veritaserum or something of the sort?"

Wren shook her head again. “That’s just Nora. People'll tell her anything.”

“I think we might be best mates now.” Alicia commented and Wren laughed before taking out her own work, and settling into a studious silence next to Alicia.

She hadn't planned how to get the juice into Thom Spiro' drink.

That was the primary thought running through Wren's head as she sat at the Gryffindor table, picking at her food. She had waved Alicia on to lunch before her, claiming she was just going to finish the chapter before she went in and the other girl didn't have to wait. She'd waited fifteen minutes to enter the Great Hall, sitting far along the table so as not to be seen by professors or any of the prefects who tended to group together at the middle of the table whether consciously or not.

It was about then that the thought hit her for the first time, and she had eaten most of her food and was in the final quarter or so of lunch without the faintest clue as to how to get this vial in his drink.

She couldn't very well just walk up to the Ravenclaw table and slip some in his goblet. The most interaction she'd ever had with him was holding a door open to Charms. They'd never even so much as spoken. Wren half considered dropping a knut on the floor and picking it up and handing it to him. But, passing off a knut and simultaneously pouring something into his goblet seemed just short of impossible.

Wren took a bite out of her roll, watching as more Ravenclaws came in and filled the table. She caught sight of a familiar tall and lean boy with copper hair, and her eyes lit up. Simon. She would walk over under the perfectly reasonable guise of saying hello to her boyfriend, and swap her own goblet with Thom’.

This plan quickly crashed as Simon passed Thom, picking an empty spot, naturally towards the center of the table.

Of course, Wren had considered switching her plan to a simple Pepper Breath Hex, which certainly would have put an end to his romantic endeavors at least for the next couple of days or so. But compared to her initial plan, this idea seemed so inadequate. And how could she even be sure that Alicia got to enjoy the justice? There had to be some way, some excuse, for her to switch goblets--

Of course.

It was so simple, really.

It was unlikely the teachers would expect it. If anything, it'd be written off as an unhappy accident from Herbology. If only he had properly corked his vial or used gloves to pass it along like Professor Sprout had said. Quickly glancing around to see if anyone was looking at her, which of course they weren't, Wren pulled the Venomous Tentacula juice from her bag and poured it in her own cup.

Subtly, she took her wand out of her pocket and with another quick glance up at the professor's table, tapped her own goblet, muttering the spell.

She peered inside and noticed her cup was slightly emptier than it had been.

She'd switched them. A rush of victory swelled in Wren's chest and she almost wished that someone near her would give her a high five.

It took five minutes to determine that her plan worked. A small commotion rose at the Ravenclaw table which seemed like normal lunch nonsense before the group of boys around Thom parted. Wren watched as Thom’s skin slowly shifted from its beautiful shade of lilac to a darker lavender. Giggles began to echo through the Great Hall as Thom’s distress grew more and more apparent. Wren cast a quick look up at the professors' table. Professor Snape  looked particularly unamused, but Dumbledore had a small quirk of his lips.

Wren took this as permission for herself to smile as Thom’s friends rushed a now violet Thom Spiro out of the hall and towards, undoubtedly, the Hospital Wing. Sensing this was as good a time as any to dismiss from lunch, the food vanished from the table, and the students began to file out. Wren picked up her bag, ready to go to Transfiguration and feeling particularly pleased with herself as all around her students whispered about that purple Ravenclaw!

"Fine work, Collings." Wren nearly jumped out of her skin, fumbling her books.  She succeeded in catching them back onto her arms, but one slid out, bouncing against the ground in front of her. Before she could bend over to retrieve it, one of the twins scooped it up and placed it on top of his own, significantly shorter stack of books. If two books could be called a stack.

"What?" Wren asked, her head turning to each of the twins.

"I was wondering what you were up to in Herbology," Fred, the one who was not holding her book, remarked.

"Sorry, you've lost me." Wren shrugged and gave a jerky shake of her head.

Fred gave her a wolfish grin. "Have I?" He waved his wand, and the empty vial shot out of her bag and into his hand. Because of course he could do nonverbal spells already. He wiggled it in front of her, and Wren snatched at it, surprising herself by actually wrenching it from his hands.

Wren stuffed it back into her bag, glaring at him--although the fact that he was absolutely correct took all of the heat out of her look. "That's for potions."

"And apparently poisoning Ravenclaw dickheads,"  Fred remarked.

"I didn't poison him."

She did. Technically.

"I don't even understand why you think it was me." She succeeded in making her voice slightly more casual this time which did nothing but make the boys' smiles grow.

"It's not a suspicion," Fred dismissed. " I know it was you. Saw you in Herbology."

"There's a plant that does that?" George asked with widened eyes.

"Apparently the Venomous Tentacula,"  Fred said. "Sprout said it was a poisonous juice, but I never reckoned I'd actually see someone poisoned with it."

"Stop saying I poisoned him!" Wren hissed.

George's brow wrinkled. "Is there another word for it?"

"Empoisoned?" Fred suggested.

"Envenomed?"

"Would this count as drugging?"

Wren brushed past the twins, entering the Transfigurations classroom. They followed her in laughing.

Alicia looked up from where she and Angelina were gathered together giggling. "Wren!" she called, waving her over quickly. Wren approached, dropping her books off at her desk along the way and  trying very hard to keep the smile off of her face, seeing Alicia positively beaming.

"Tell me you didn't miss it."

"Thom Spiro turning bright purple? How could I?"

"Merlin, it was glorious," Alicia exclaimed looking happily up at the ceiling as if attempting to thank Merlin himself up in heaven. When she looked back down, her eyes fell on the Weasley twins who had followed Wren over. "You two, you did this, didn't you?"

"Us? No," George shook his head.

"We'd never dope a student," Fred added, pausing for a second. "That's the word we're going with, right?"

George shook his head. "Doesn't seem quite right. I still think poison's the best fit."

Alicia's face creased in confusion, and perhaps if Wren hadn't seen fit to cast a dark look at the two, the other girls might have assumed they were lying.

"Wren Collings, what did you do?" Angelina asked, and Wren's face went slack with surprise. It was just her luck that Angelina, the one observant enough to have taught Wren and Alicia how to tell the twins apart, would have caught the look.

"Me?" Wren asked, perhaps too defensively because now Alicia's eyes were on her.

"Wren," Alicia looked at her wide-eyed. "Did you....?"

Wren made a sound of disbelief. "You think I poisoned a Ravenclaw student? I'm dating a prefect! A Ravenclaw one."

"You did!" Alicia gasped, grabbing Wren into a tight hug. "You're bloody brilliant. Honestly, Wren. I could kiss you."

"Doubt she'd let you," Fred quipped.

Alicia released Wren who stepped back, taking her book from George and hitting Fred with it. "So violent, Collings," he flinched away laughing.  "They're going to lock you up in Azkaban. You maniac."

"So if he wasn't poisoned," Angelina said, "What exactly happened to him?"

All eyes fell on Wren. "He didn't wash his hands properly after handling the Venomous Tentacula juice in Herbology today. Or maybe the cork wasn't on right and some got on his skin," she shrugged. "Professor Snape said it happens every year."

Fred opened his mouth to remark but was cut off by Professor McGonagall walking in, signaling to the students to stop talking and find their seats. Her gaze fell on Fred.

“Mr. Weasley, as you are not taking this class, please find your way to the door.”

Fred gave McGonagall a salute, and turned to leave, making sure to gesture to Wren that he had his eyes on her before heading out of the room. Wren's cheeks tinged pink as she made her way to her desk.

The light poisoning might have been a mistake.

[thechocoboos]

HC: Prompto as a Bio Major

100% self-indulgent. I’ve had this written for about 2 months now, and there will most likely be a part II one day.

He doesn’t know why he became a bio major--his thinking was probably something along the lines of wanting to work with animals but not having the mental strength or funds to go through veterinary school (mood)

And then he got there and it was Not Fun

He was terrified of his first bio class, he heard rumors of how difficult it was and thought that he would flunk out of it

Poor bby almost dropped it and nearly switched to kinesiology like half of the class in the first week

But he stuck through it!

After the first two intro classes, he found that the bio classes needed for his degree were a lot more fun

He really enjoyed ecology, although whenever stats got involved his grades suffered

Going out into the field for labs was honestly the highlight of his week and he actually brought his camera to take some photos when he wasn’t being eaten alive in a field of goldenrod flowers or falling into a river during a lab about dispersion

His profs notice him taking cameras out on these labs and they hit him up asking for photos of specimens, and then he ended up landing a really great internship taking photos and examining organisms with a lot of the professors

He’s also terrified of his teachers, make no mistake.

People of authority make him uneasy, so it takes a while to talk to his profs and he admittedly didn’t go to any office hours until he was balls deep in a genetics class and nearly flunking

He spends so much time trying to study for his classes that he misses out on a lot of The College Experience™--or at least he feels like he does (truthfully, he doesn’t miss out on anything)

Most other bio students know him and they all ADORE him

He’s that little spot of sunshine in an otherwise dreary college major

Even when he does terribly on exams, he still encourages both himself and his classmates to keep pushing forward, promising that none of them will remember their bad test score in a semester or two

When he started taking chemistry, he nearly cried

None of it makes sense to him--what the fuck is a magnetic orbital--why is there a p and an s--what the FUCK is a fucking trigonal planar--wait there are TWO geometries for each compound??? The FUCK is an electron pair geometry--enthal-what now???

He only survived his first two chems through extra credit, all nighters, and a lot of pity on behalf of his profs

When it came to organic chem though

He fuckin lost it

It was one of the only classes he failed and had to retake (he cried for weeks)

Prom only pulled all nighters in his first year, he grew an extra brain cell that encouraged him to think ahead and start studying a week or two in advance for tests

That and Ignis ripped him a new one after he had a mental breakdown following finals week, three all nighters in a row, and about seven 5-hour energy drinks

He’s one of those bio students terrified of insects

U know the one

The one that screams when you all go out on the field and a spider falls on him, the one who asks his lab partners to check him for spiders and who accidentally kills a specimen in lab because it twitched at him

He ends up getting pretty comfortable with most insects out of necessity, but spiders are and will forever be a no-go

When he was learning to differentiate between different insects, he used Noctis as a study tool and told him about the differences between stoneflies, crane flies, caddisflies, and mayflies (with pictures)

Noctis didn’t speak to him for a week

Gladio, however, loved it--he was very eager to learn about the differences between insects and when he went camping, sometimes he would take Prompto so Prom could practice his identifying skills for lab

Prompto is the guy who cries in the library around finals time, and he almost missed one final because he fell asleep studying in one of the school buildings

Through the 4.5 years he was in college, he kept asking himself, “Why the fuck am I a bio major???” But. No one really has an answer anymore

With every class, he feels like he’s one step closer to dropping out or changing majors, but he’s in too deep to do anything else

At this point, he’s fueled by fear, the money he would have wasted if he doesn’t continue with this major, and spite

[omgmarieux]

PLANTING GARDENS IN GRAVES // Roger Taylor x Reader // Two-Shot Story (2/2)

Part ½: Death on Two Legs

Part 2/2: Planting Gardens in Graves (title inspired by r.h. Sin)

Wordcount: 4k

About the Title: The title is inspired by a book called “Planting Gardens in Graves” by r.h. Sin, but not really related to the contents of the poetry book itself. So yeah, not my title lovies.

Note: This took so long, very sorry. I’m debating with myself whether which is better way to start this part between my two drafts (for a whole week, yes). Anyway, enjoy and thanks for reading! (also I accidentally posted this earlier and boy I’m really sorry about that)

Every single hour, Roger seems to cross your mind. Even if you have distracted yourself from memorizing the procedure more, hell you can dictate it while sleeping, he still somehow manage to slip in.

‘Like? Like me? That’s a weird combination of words, especially that it’s for me.’ You said to yourself.

The laboratory practice had ended and you had finished it with flying colours. No mistakes or troubles, heck you did memorize the procedures by heart, of course you’re going to ace it with Roger. But he seems like acing everything he likes.

Since then, he started walking you back to your dorm. You never really agreed to this with him, but it always seems too late to speak about it when he’s already out there, waiting for you. Most of the time he waits outside your last class if it weren’t Biochemistry—for god knows how he found that out. Then he’ll offer to walk you home, you would say no, he don’t need to do it and you don’t want him around yet he still follows you behind; catching up to your side and talking to you absentmindedly about his day or something he is annoyed about. You rarely spoke back; it didn’t seem to be important.

“Roger, you can just leave me alone.” You said to him as soon as you saw him standing before the door of the room.

“I don’t want to.” He replied pressing hard onto the two t’s between want and to.

“You don’t need to walk me home Roger. I’m a grown up. It’s not like you’re my father.” You said as rolled your eyes at him.

“But I want to.” He replied like a whine later on. You would walk faster to reach your home to avoid further discussions with him. With everyday you walk with him, you should be comfortable with his presence but the more time you spend with him it looks like you grew an uncontrollable discomfort towards him. It’s not that you hated him, it’s just your socializing issues.

And then starts another habit of him; waiting outside your dorm early in the morning, with breakfast on a paper bag and he would give it you once you open the entrance door.

“No thanks, Roger. I already ate.” You answered him and his disappointment is plastered in his face the whole way to university. Although some days, he would offer a cup of coffee to you but you hold your hands up to refuse, and that leaves him with a full two cup of coffees to fuel himself for the whole day. He ended up having palpitations and feeling nauseous after so he never bothered to try bring a coffee once again.

Some mornings; since he discovered you don’t skip breakfast, he would bring flower instead. One stem of rose each day, or a daisy, or if he’s feeling different he would also bring sunflowers. It depends on his mood, but you’d shake your head no to him.

“Roger first of all, this is a waste.” You said after you reached for the flower. “Second, I don’t like or want it. But thank you anyways.” You’ll continue and then he would walk beside you with a wide smile as if he had won a lottery, no, as if he had found the love of his life to spend the rest of his life with. He would try to repeat it as it makes him happy whenever you acknowledge him, or simply thank him. It wasn’t annoying, but sure it was disturbing to you. You hated attention and that’s all you’ve been receiving from Roger.

As soon as finals week began, you told Roger to at least not walk you home. Less distractions for you and more focus on your academics, or just to have a valid excuse to avoid his presence. He agreed with that considering it is very important to you.

He asks few questions in the morning, trying to simulate your brain for the exam. You’d answer him and he’s glad with that kind if interaction, rather content with it. It inspires him for the whole day.

In laboratory written examination, laboratory partners are separated so he is across the room and it gave you enough focus and it kept Roger from being distracted with your presence. To be honest, it’s not a problem if Roger had stopped walking to after your classes but it did bother you. You become used to being his side every afternoon, walking back home, but when that thought crossed your mind, you thought that you’re being selfish. Giving him small hopes for your affection. Eventually, you thought that maybe if you persuade him to not fetch you in the morning, he would stop walking with you and fully giving up. You considered that.

In Roger’s side, summer is around the corner and he solely focused on his band whilst still tries to get your attention. He popped his head once in your few last classes one afternoon. “Hi Y/N!” He greets you cheerfully. And planning to ask you out to go on their band rehearsal.

“Hey.”

“I can’t walk you home today. I’m really sorry.” He apologized and you frowned.

“You didn’t need to walk me home anytime Roger. You don’t need to apologize for that.” You replied.

“Uh, but I want to.” He stuttered. “You think you want to join me and my friends rehearse?” You politely decline his offer and went home alone that day. He was indeed disappointed but he knew there was no chance of you actually going. But he didn’t think that a little hope would disappoint him this much. Needless to say, he was very hurt.

Summer came, there’s no interaction between you and Roger. It gave you time to peacefully think and enjoy your alone time but in the mid-summer, you felt lonely. Realization hit you. How you felt lonely for years before Roger pestered you. How he made you feel happy and appreciated during the times you were with him. But you can’t use him for your happiness, can you? It would be unfair to him.

You were walking in the grocery store, grabbing few snacks to survive the week. It was boring. All you did was read books and you felt extremely lonely so you tried going out for a while. Food shopping seems to be the best solution so you did went to the grocery.

“Hey death on two legs!” You turned around to the familiar voice. It was the one with the black long hair, rather the guy from the left.

“Oh hi.” You respond awkwardly with the nickname.

“Roger had never shut up about you since he met you. He speaks about you 24-7! It’s much worse, he’s my roommate!” He exclaimed but a bit of a joke sounding.

“Oh. I’m sorry then.”

“Oh no darling, it’s alright! I just want to tell you how much he likes you and how much he misses you right now that twenty four hours each day is not enough for him to babble things about you.” You blushed at his remark. You were the next on in the line. The cashier had called you out and you walked directly to the cashier.

“Darling, if you don’t mind can you please give me your number so I could pass it to Rog?” He asked and handed you a small note and pen. You half smiled and took it to write your number down.

“Thanks Y/N!” He said as he got it back.

“No problem…” You were half embarrassed to yourself that you forgot his name, but glad that he didn’t seem to notice it. Frank? Ferdie?

Hours later when you got home, the telephone rang. You hesitated on answering it, fully sure that Roger’s probably the one who’s calling. You reached for the phone and brought it to your ears.

“Hi Y/N!” That voice you heard wasn’t Roger’s; it was the one you met at the grocery store. You were hit with disappointment like a wave. As if he sensed it on the other line, “Sorry for disappointing you honey, but Roger is being a bitch, so I decided to not give him your number.” He spoke an you chuckled lightly as you heard a groan behind the call. Roger did not believe that Freddie got your number; you were not the one who would give that easily. So the moment Freddie speaks through the phone, he thought he was just pretending.

“But I think you’d rather come by instead.” He said and he dictated their address. You wrote it on a piece of paper behind your telephone thinking that maybe it would come in handy. “So that’s all darling! Hope you have a good day!” He said then he drops the line.

‘I must have seriously missed that jerk and considering that you kept the note.’ You thought to yourself. But it will take all your pride to actually show up in their doorstep. With reason or none.

It was hot, you were sweating and you hated this kind of weather. You opened your windows and not-too-chill wind entered your dorm. It’s tolerable at least. You stepped towards your kitchen and prepared a breakfast, rather an early lunch for you. And of course, a tea. Soon you found yourself on your couch again, for almost every day, this couch is your only companion. Hell, summer is going to end soon and you didn’t even do anything ‘fun’. You laughed at the sound of fun inside your head. You haven’t had that since years ago or did you had a little of them with Roger’s presence. Did you?

Few weeks to go before a new term begins. Maybe I could go back to my parent’s home? Visit for few days? You laughed at yourself with the thought again. And then what? See my old friends with their eyes dropping on me screaming “pathetic.” I guess no. You sighed realizing how really pathetic you are right now.

You looked over the clock hanging on your wall. Not even a minute had passed since you sat. Should I visit Roger? I’m really really really bored. You stood up and went to the bathroom to get ready. The whole time, you heart was racing fast. What ifs danced behind your mind.

What if he’s not home? What if he’s busy? What if he has another visitor? Or maybe he’s not interested in you anymore. If he was then maybe he would have at least showed his ass there even for once for the previous weeks. You were in the middle of wearing your clothes when you stop. Pity you. Lonely again, lonely forever.

As you finished dressing up, you sat on the edge of your bed, having second thoughts about going to Roger’s. Maybe you shouldn’t because you might bother him. But soon after debating with yourself, you gave up on your over thinking session and picked up your purse to hurry outside.

There are plenty of places to go when you’re bored; like library, coffee shops, parks, boutiques, and more. But for a person like you, you always opted for peace, which distracts you from your chaotic mind, a little. A bookstore or library is good for more moments of silence, as if you never had enough of them. So your feet brought you to the nearest bookstore. You scanned the shelves looking for interesting titles or covers. They say “do not judge the book by its cover”, yet you are here doing it. After an hour of constant gliding of your fingers to the spine of each books, ou gave up looking for one and just went to the cashier to buy a newspaper and left. Bookstore made you even more frustrated; nothing to buy, and nothing to turn your attention into.

Your feet started walking and it take wherever in the city but when you came across to a music store, you stopped on your tracks and entered it. You went straight to classics. Pianos. You needed some to calm your chaotic mind. You chose a record of Chopin and another random one before heading to the cashier to pay.

Just before you passed the records to the man behind the counter, a hand landed on your shoulder startled you.

“Sorry Y/N!” The man said instantly and chuckled. The voice of a man that made your mind a mess.

“Oh, hi Roger.” You said and you properly passed the record to the cashier. Roger was amused with your greeting. He wasn’t expecting a nice and welcoming sound from you.

“Hey Y/N, what are you up to?” He asked and you pouted directly to the record that’s being wrapped.

“Chopin? Really?” He asked and you moved your gaze at him and glared. “Sorry it’s just that… that’s your type of music?” He asked again.

“Yes.” You muttered. Because you are noisy inside my mind.

“And you? Beetles?” You asked in rude way and raised your eyebrow at him.

“Uhh, yeah.”

“See? The kind of uncomfortableness you feel when someone indirectly criticizes your choice of music.” You replied as he too paid for his record.

“So sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting you to have that taste.” He nervously laughed. “What are you doing after?”

“Getting a coffee.” You said. A coffee?! You didn’t even plan on getting a fucking coffee! Your mind went south. Did I sound like I’m inviting him to come? Was that too needy?

“Can I come?” He asked, looking somewhat desperate and you stopped yourself from panicking then a small smile formed in your lips.

“Yeah no problem.” You replied as both of you left the store and stroll to find a café.

On the counter, you insisted to pay for Roger’s coffee too. “It’s just because you have maybe spent too much before for those flowers and morning snacks.” You reasoned out.

“You don’t owe me anything. It’s really alright.” He replied as he tries to shove his money to the cashier but you’re holding his arm to prevent it. You gave an apologetic look to the cashier before turning your eyes back to Roger.

“But I want to. I stopped you before but you didn’t, so let me, please?” You gave him your puppy eyes that were never used ever since and he was instantly stunned. He wished that it would last forever. And you took that opportunity to pay for the bill. You gave a cheeky smile at him and led him to an empty seat.

“Oh no you’re doing too many things today, you are freaking me out.” Roger said as he sat in front of you.

“What?”

“You doing that eyes thing, and you smiling. Too many improvements today, I love it!” He said to you and your forehead crinkled. You realized that you’re having too much fun today. Oh there’s the word again. Is this really the effect of his presence to me? How much did he actually change in you? Your mind was once again clouded with thoughts. You snapped back in reality when the waitress served your coffees on your table. Although it made your forehead fold when he gave Roger a knowing glance. Okay, was that jealousy? You thought to yourself.

“Excuse me.” You said as you stood up heading to the restroom’s direction, you talking to yourself in the back of your mind. What the hell we’re you thinking? So what if the waitress is flirting with the man you’re with? You’re not even on a date. You sighed to your reflection in the mirror. Here we go again, the pathetic moments in you. You walked back to your table with Roger. It was full of silence, it was awkward to you, but it was comfortable to him.

“Rog I want to go home. Thank you for the time.” You said standing up.

“We didn’t even talked.” He said frowning.

“Ah, yeah sorry, maybe next time?” Your mind was panicking as you pick your cup and your belongings and quickly exit the café. Roger did not catch up behind, you were walking—no, running too fast.

That day, your mind drifted back to Roger once again during the night. You had let yourself do some ‘accepting or rejecting’ with all what happened and as when you were all set up to get to sleep, your brain screams Roger and there you couldn’t fall asleep.

You decided to write. Write your feelings instead. Maybe it will help you get some things off your mind.

Hi Roger. I like you. Then you crumpled the paper and threw it to the trash. And since that, you started asking yourself questions, more likely shouting those questions to yourself in exasperatedly manner.

“What’s the perfect first line?”

“Why are you thinking like you’re going to give this to him?”

You stopped yourself there. If writing your feelings about Roger would help ease your clouded mind? Will it help to silence your heart if you send this to him?

You started writing again.

Roger, I don’t know what you do to me. You crumpled and three it again.

“What the hell! Why is this so hard?” You screamed to yourself. And you sighed. Roger Taylor your serious effect on me is killing every inch of me.

Again.

You put your mind aside and let your heart talk. If you want to really have peace with this the letter should come from your stupid heart, in that way it would be sincere. Your mind will regret it later, but your heart wont.

Soon after you finished the letter, you folded it in half and insert it in the envelope; then sealed it with a wax seal. You addressed the envelope to Roger’s name and took the paper containing their address.

You stood from your chair and grab your coat. You glanced on your wristwatch. 10 pm. It’s definitely okay to walk around this late. You comforted yourself, though your heart raced again from nervousness about walking alone this late at night, and of course the letter itself.

You stepped outside and mumbles their street in your head countless of times. You know that street; just few blocks away. It took you full ten minutes to find their apartment; a three storey house. You slipped the envelope on their mail and walked back home. Your heart still racing as fast as before until you fell asleep on your bed.

Dear Roger,

I wanted to say I had so much fun spending time with you.

I’ve never actually felt this since a really long time and if I’m being honest, I disliked your eagerness but in the end it’s one thing about you that I admire the most. You never give up, and it’s a really good personality when you’re pursuing someone.

During those days you pick me up in the morning, or babble random topics in class, and walk me back home, I don’t like you then but I’m alright with your presence. I found myself longing for that when summer came, when I almost never saw you again.

You never really came in the best time; you caught me at really bad, dark, and lonely moments of my life; to the point where I would consider myself dead, not literally, but since you called me death on two legs, I guess you get it.

You planted gardens in this grave you know? You never left pieces of you because in the end, each and every of them would grow. You planted happiness in my lonely life, and instead to move on from it, I started looking and accepting it. I have never ever felt complete once again, and it only shows when I am with you.

Thanks to those lonely summers without you, I’ve come to realized this.

Love, Y/N

Roger stood up from the dining chair and bumps on the dining table that caused to spill Freddie’s tea.

“Roger! What are you doing?” Freddie hissed.

“It’s Y/N!” He said as he waves the paper in the air with excitement.

“What?”

“A letter from Y/N!” He screamed again, happiness is overflowing in his whole body.

“If that’s a confession then I would be happy for you. If not, shut up please.”

“IT IS!” Roger shouted then and Freddie stood up quickly to jump with Roger.

“How did this thing get here?” Roger wondered out loudly and stopped on this feet. “If this is a prank Fred, I’m going to kill you.” He said nervously and stares up to Freddie.

“No! I told Y/N our address, remember?” He replied cheekily.

“What!?”

“It’s was Y/N’s number I dialed before. No lies darling!” He replied.

“Oh shit!”

“Now go off and get your princess there!” Freddie said as he waves his hand shoving Roger off.

“Yes yes yes I will!” Roger ran. He made it to the door of your dorm in less than ten minutes, in which a normal pace could get you there from his apartment. He knocked or more like banged your door. He was thrilled, excited, if they say butterflies are in your stomach, hell the wings felt like there were angels instead. But ten minutes of knocking, still you weren’t out.

He overthought about the situation. Analyzed what happened. If he were just imagining things. But he glanced down on the paper he’s holding, there lies your confession. He was scared for the moment. What if you confessed your feelings because you were leaving? You’re never the one to tell someone your feelings that easy. What if you planned on confessing right before you’d leave? But why would she leave? Roger thought. But all of it was pushed aside when he hears footsteps towards him and he quickly looked where the sound came from. It was you; an eyebrow is raised to the sight of Roger, and his visible sweat in his shiny face.

“What are you doing here?” You asked and your eyes fell to his hands where his fingers clutch the paper in him. Your lips formed a small smile and looks back at him.

“This… uh…” Roger stuttered as he lightly backed away from the door and you unlocked it.

“Come inside?” You asked when the door opened. He nodded and steps inside as quickly as possible as if you’d shut it close before he could get inside. You chuckled at his actions.

“I-Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this all true?” He asked as he raise and waves the paper to you. You focused your vision to the paper and frowned.

“What’s that?” You asked as you bit your lower lip stopping yourself from smiling.

“Oh, was this not you?” He asked and he sounded so disappointed; very disappointed.

“Oh yeah, it was my heart.” You replied and started to walk towards your room. He stumbles as he follows behind you.

“What really?” and his mood changes instantly. His voice sounded squeaky and his legs felt like a jelly. “Can I hug you?” He asked when he held your wrist to stop you.

“Yeah?” He pulled you and engulfed you with a hug.

“I can’t believe this.” He whispered. “This doesn’t seem to be enough.” He added and you felt his lips grazing your ear.

“I know what you want.” You replied chuckling.

“Hmm yeah? Can I?” He asked lightly pulling his face away to look at you.

“No.” You said and laughed. He nuzzles his face on your shoulder.

“Damn it.” You laughed more. “But really? Planting gardens in graves? Funny metaphor. But I like it.”

“You do?”

“Yes. What have I planted in you besides happiness?” He asked, hands never leaving your body.

“Love.” You replied and smile.

“You sure you don’t want to kiss me? Because I’m hella sure this is where the part we need to do so.” He reassured and you laughed at him.

“I’m sure you could plant various of things to me—” you stopped when he snorted and started laughing. You hit his chest when you realized what he was thinking about. “But I would appreciate if we go slow. Let them grow before planting a new one.” You said and you held him closer to you. “And I think hug is enough for now.”

Roger did not complain. In fact, he’s already contented finally having you to him, no matter how very slow paced everything your relationship with him.

Tag: @rtyler19 @rogxrtaylxr —if I’m honest, I’m still thrilled with tagging omg, Lmao thanks!! (sorry for second tag? I accidentally posted this earlier but I wanna keep my words.)

[livingbutamireally]

AY2019/2020 Y1S2 Module Reviews

AY2019/2020 year 1 semester 2 review

Wew this semester was more of a honeymoon period for me still since I cant advance past CS1010S - this is only the first CS mod i have to take big oof. First half of the sem was spent mostly on (re)doing CS1010S AFAST and the rest went to catching up on other modules that are of relatively lower intensities compared to modules i imagine i will have to take next semester? The most challenging mods this sem goes to CS1010S, EC1301 and also.. ST2334? About half of the semester was done at home though due to the COVID-19 pandemic and so the never-ending heap of online lectures to review (for which i am always behind on unfortunately). I have no need to S/U any module this sem fortunately but that also means I might have effectively wasted my last COVID S/Us. I’m also the kind that is happy enough just to pass.

Modules taken this semester:

CS1010S (AFAST)

GEH1031

GES1041

EC1301

ST2334

MKT1705X

CS1010S Programming Methodology (Python) – AFAST

School of Computing

Prof: Ben Leong

Exam Dates: 16 Jan (Midterm Mock - not graded) / 24 Feb (Practical Exam) / 28 Feb (Finals)

Weightage:

Coursemology – 25%

Participation – 5%

Midterm test – NA

Practical exam – 20%

Final assessment – 50%

Since i took the alternative finals i have updated the final weightage for this module (last sems CS1010S had different weightages).

As we already know, this module (or any CS modules in general) easily has the highest workload compared to other modules, except this time without needing to complete missions every week? Also since its a re-module, there were no lectures/tutorials/recitations for this module and the prof spent lesser time than the first module with us. There is just one consultation slot per week that lasts about 1.5-2h, where the TAs/ prof Ben goes through exam questions over the past years and where students get to voice any doubts they might have. Hence, a lot of self-discipline is required on our part to grind past year papers consistently and drill our brains. Not sure if i’ve mentioned this before, but it’s nice of them to provide comprehensive worked solutions for about 50 exam papers (or maybe more) the profs claimed it was the only module in NUS to be doing this. Prof mentioned he was a bit disappointed in our batch as many werent putting in considerable effort right from the start aka ponning consultation slots arranged over the holidays (in December) - which is a lot of effort coming from the professor to arrange this just for our batch (first batch of CS1010S AFAST). Just name me any prof who does this for their students, coming back over the holidays to teach unpaid. Those who were not at level 50 in Coursemology had more time now to finish the missions/side-quests needed to achieve level 50 and get the full points for Coursemology (as we were expected to in Sem 1). Things were a bit rusty after the holidays at the start but it became better with practice. Was a bit disappointed at not being able to get question 2 right during the written paper (finals) it was a bit of an IQ-ish problem solving question. Anyways winged the 4m what-did-you-learn essay question (as usual) at the end as a saving grace and passed albeit by a very bit. I improved by 2 marks ?? compared to the last semester for finals, not the nicest thing to see after so much effort being put in but still. I think I’m just better at writing essays than coding....

Results for the PE

Mean is 14. Median is also 14. Standard Deviation is 7.6. Highest grades was 30/30 Question 1 turned out to be harder than we had intended, but Q2 was quite easy and most of Q3 was doable by most, as you can see in the results. Passing mark for PE is roughly 10/30. 

Mean is 51/10, median is 53/100 and standard deviation is 14.4. Highest was 81/100. Generally, the performance was much worse than we had expected. Pass grade for Finals is roughly 40/100.

Basically, if got 10/30 for PE and 40/100 for Finals and you have done your Coursemology assignments you can expect a C grade. If not, then prepare to SU. CS1010S is not graded on a curve. We set question to test that you have mastered certain concepts and your final grade is a reflection of what you seem to have mastered as reflected by your exam performance.

This whole module was done by recess week so we have more time to focus on other mods. Honestly will be happy enough just to pass. Now, how do i survive CS23030 and CS2040 rip.

GEH1031 Understanding the Universe

Faculty of Science (Physics)

Prof: Cindy Ng

Weightage:

Term Test 1 (3 Mar) – 25%

Term Test 2 (16 Apr) – 25%

Video presentation 5 Apr – 25%

Video critiques 17 Apr – 10%

Astrophotograph 17 Apr – 10%

Quizzes – 10%

Ng is relatively a slower-paced lecturer, which is good for someone like me who cant keep up with faster-paced profs. 2x on her elearning lecture videos makes the best pace imo. Her lecture slides are concise and simple, and will suffice in revision. While she does explain more in depth especially for concepts that are harder to grasp (not many) during the lecture i love that she keeps her lecture slides straight forward to the point. Everything was in point form, short and sweet much appreciated. Also if you pay attention to her lectures, you will do well for the quizzes at the end of each chapter for sure. Though i think you get the marks for quizzes as long as you did them before each deadline like participation marks kinda (?) rather than being graded on whether you answered them correctly. I didn’t do too well for term test 2 unfortunately and I also only just found out you can display the statistics of where you place among the cohort in LUMINUS and needless to say I didn’t place too well. It’s a relatively manageable module though there’s still a lot of content. Term test 1 consisted of MCQs and about 3 2m questions which she call “essay questions” which can be misleading for some (like me!). The MCQs are very tricky and most come in the format of these options: is A/ is not A/ is B/ is not B and you have to pick the right combination (2) out of these 4 options to score 1 point, which of course means less chances of getting them correct compared to the usual 25% in a typical MCQ. Term test 2 was held on LUMINUS at home, and this time since its an e-exam there was only 10mins to do about 25 MCQ, leaving only 0.4 minutes = 24s for 1 MCQ, which proved to be really stressful for many as voiced out by other cohort mates in the forum section (so very valid). The e-exam also had an essay component, 2m per question with 4 questions under 10 minutes. The implementation of this time constraint was to prevent cheating but the duration given was (I feel) unreasonable. As for the video presentation, we had to come up with a 7 min (at most) video most of which lasts 5/6mins on a news article in 2020 regarding astronomy. We had to form groups of 3 at the start of the semester, and were told to look for members on the forums if we did not have enough members. It is not necessary to show your face so you can be creative! For my group, we had a Germany graduate exchange student to work with us which was really cool.  Our group’s theme was NASA’s discovery of exoplanets with the use of TESS which was wrapped up in March, before the deadline in April. Really thankful for him to prompt us each week for progress and have it done and over with instead of rushing it last minute when things get busy during reading week. (I think the guy was really done with us im so sorry Philipp if you are reading this.) Also since term test 2 was done by mid-April we had more time allocated for other modules to prepare for finals (swee). Video critiques were supposedly 50 words long if i remembered correctly but i didnt find out until i hit the submit button and :_D i left 1/2-liners for each. One of the criteria of this video critique was showing that you have watched the videos of other groups well but i dont rmb my critiques proving that ive watched the videos carefully though i really did. I think our group did the best in our cluster though! (based on the critiques). For the astrophotograph, we could take part in the astronomy sessions held on a Friday of every month to use the telescopes but there wasn’t any this semester sadly due to the pandemic.

GES1041 Everyday Ethics in Singapore

Faculty of Arts and Sciences (Philosophy)

Prof: Chin Chuan Fei

Weightage:

4 Journal Entries – 20%

4 Reading Quizzes – 20%

Group Report – 10%

Group Presentation – 20%

Finals – 40%

Chin’s lectures are pretty enjoyable, his voice/tone really suits lectures. He is a very approachable person too and willing to share a lot of experiences relevant to the topic at hand. He includes snippets of related videos in his slides many of which are insightful that made me share with my friends too. There is a total of 4 main themes in the module which are namely inequality, meritocracy, multiculturalism and migration and he also introduced the use of an ethical toolbox to helps us reach a more definitive thought process especially for an abstract topic like philosophy. I didn’t realise this was a philo mod when bidding for it so I was really surprised when i went for the first lecture (like bro it clearly says ETHICS what was i thinking). I also thought it would be something similar to Social Studies but was proven wrong. There are compulsory readings to do each week, about 20 pages long usually per reading and they are all chapters from books written by other Singaporean philosophers regarding the themes gone through which helped to widen my perspectives and broadened my horizons, those were some really good selection of readings. I have learned more things than I previously knew about the foreign domestic workers, migrant workers, racism in Singapore among the many topics we have dealt with.

This module is for those who are : 

Comfortable with reading a lot every week (i put a lot here because i dont usually read)

Comfortable with writing essays (journal entry) 500 words each

Proficient in English (some of the expressions used can be quite complex and may take you a much longer time to process and understand especially with the reading quizzes that tests your comprehension of the readings - really just comprehension in true GP fashion)

Have a lot of experience in this field, those under social work would have many and will be able to share relevant experiences in the journal entry

Interested about the aforementioned themes

Reading quizzes are like comprehension style questions: do your readings and the questions tests you on what you have read so you just have to look for evidence of each option, the questions will refer you to the specific page/reading that will guide you (nice of them to do so). Journal entries and reading quizzes occur on an alternative week basis so reading quizzes followed by journal then reading quiz again and so forth. Nearing the end, you will be grouped according to who you sit close with and you will work together with your group members to work on a project that will have 2 overlapping themes about any policies/ observations of Singapore. It is advisable for the scope to not be too broad. e.g. we chose to talk about offering Muslim food in school canteens vs non-Muslim food (fewer food options for Muslims) and this encompasses both the multiculturalism and inequality themes. The group report will be due before the presentation and it helps identify some main points you will then talk about later during the presentation. Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, the group presentation this semester was done on Microsoft Powerpoint through voice-over slides. God bless, and there goes the need to memorise scripts especially with the finals season so near. The professor was really accommodating and gave us more time to prepare the voice-over slides when he announced that it will be held on powerpoint too. Finals was 20 MCQs in 1 hour on LUMINUS, the questions were similar to the reading quizzes (5 MCQs per quiz).

EC1301 Principles of Economics

Faculty of Arts and Sciences (Economics)

Prof: Ong Ee Cheng

Tutor: Devika

Weightage:

Pre/post-lecture Quizzes

Class Participation

Midterms 7 Mar

Finals 29 Apr

Can’t find the actual breakdown of scores sorry!

Bell-curve is really really steep for this one since its purely MCQ. Divided into micro and macroeconomics so first half of the sem was micro then the other half was macro. Finals was about 70% macro and 30% micro since micro was already tested for midterms. Every week, there’s a pre-lecture quiz to be done before the lecture and a post-lecture quiz due before the next lecture to reinforce your learning. There’s also supplementary readings that were given but i gave up on it by the third week. The way it is taught is a bit different from what I was used to in JC the things they focus on is also a bit different. There’s more calculations than JC whereas JC economics was more conceptual? I took only H1 economics so a lot of concepts were fresh for me like monopolism, comparative/absolute advantages, income elasticity etc. Both midterms and finals was held on Examplify with a lockdown on everything including wifi. The lecturer also provides additional practice questions in the form of quizzes nearing the exams instead of exam papers. To be honest, I felt this module was hard?? Not sure if anyone else felt the same way, it was a struggle.. I thought it was a fluff mod and boy was i very wrong about this. Also important thing to note is though this mod has MCQ-only exam, the MCQs are not 4 options but 6 options long with many tricky options and of course time constraint. Finals was 70/80 questions long in 1h iirc. Midterms was 40 questions. After the 3rd (?) tutorial, there was no more physical tutorials held just zoom tutorial sessions which only 3 ppl in my slot regularly attended. Towards the finals, a lot more zoom sessions were opened up and we could attend other TA’s zoom sessions this was a godsend thank you. My tutor wasn’t really clear in her explanations or maybe it is just me her accent came off a bit strong. I emailed her some questions but even now I have not receive any answers from her, she told me next week, and the next week became next next week and so on. I guess she must have had a lot on her plate. I didn’t think she was a good tutor. I flunked my midterms (5% percentile) so I was a bit dejected.

ST2334 Probability and Statistics

Faculty of Science (Statistics and Applied Probability)

Prof: Chan Yiu Man

Tutor: Li Shang

Weightage:

1. Quiz 1,2,3 (CA1) – 30% (?)

2. Finals – 60% (?)

Prof was really funny and friendly. Although his tutorials left me confused (my friends would care to disagree), his lectures were still pretty good. He always emphasised knowing what we are doing rather than doing the math blindly. The tutor was fast in his replies whenever I asked him questions by email. This module is an extension of statistics in JC, probability and many more probability distribution (F, chi-square, t test, z test) with terms we have never encountered before too (unless you took BT1101 but this mod focuses more on deriving the values than having a program-R calculate it for you). Ever since the outbreak, the lectures were converted to e-lecture slide style but each lesson would take 4 lectures (4h), instead of the 2 lecture per week so we had to spend more time watching the videos than usual. It is easy to be behind on videos when there is only e-lecture videos so much discipline is required to stay on task.

Finals was proctored with zoom and held on Luminus in the form of a quiz. We were expected to scan and submit a pdf with our workings after the exam. I did not have time to finish about 8 questions (a lot of marks gone) there were a total of 30 questions, spent too much time in front on the easier questions. I did study for the later questions but had no chance to utilize what I have revised (sad). I am really dead for this module i hope i dont fail this.

Update. God bless, thought i was really doomed for because i lost so many marks from not being able to finish 8/30 questions that have the most marks rewarded. Guess i really took time to make less mistakes on the previous questions.

MKT1705X Principles of Marketing

Business School (Marketing)

Prof: Regina Yeo

Tutor: Ms Canley

Weightage:

Individual Assignment – 15%

Group Assignment – 25% due in tutorials 4/5

Subject Pool – 10% *

Class Participation – 10% *

Final Exam 30 Apr – 40% *

* not too sure, checked from other reviewers

Individual assignment questions (total of 5) for tutorials 1-3 are given at the start for which the tutor will go through in the allocated weeks. We get to choose the question we want to do and if that week, the question will be discussed that week will be the deadline for our IAs. The other questions in the IA do not have to be submitted but will be discussed in class. There’s class participation for this module so people were more eager than I was used to, to answer questions in class. I had no opportunity to though in this module (halfway into the semester it became elearning), the tutor had too many hands to pick. The tutor was very accommodating and knew our difficulties and was willing to work out compromise. However, her classes were centered mainly on her experiences (which can be a bit boring) it could have been better if she went through the content. Understand that it is a fluff module that requires many examples, but would be good to relate them back to the content we are expected to master. Tutorials are held every alternate week and we are expected to do the individual questions even if we do not need to submit so that we have something at least to share in class. Subject pool was giveaway marks basically do 6 research surveys and u will get the full marks for that. Final exam comprises of 3 essay questions (40m, 30m, 30m) that you have to submit in 1.5h (i thought it was 2h during the paper rip mad rush for the end), no references/research needed but there’s a plagiarism checker by TurnItIn on luminus basically testing the application of concepts to examples.

I got a B+ for group assignment, and A- for individual assignment. I think i can only do essay styled questions, is this a sign to do arts.....

Oh the presentation was changed to a one-shot video recording (no stitching of individual videos together) instead of an actual presentation in front of your tutorial mates. I think a lot of other groups also read off their scripts but ours was really obvious. The tutor grades (structures her own bell-curve) based on those who attempted the same question to be more fair rather than comparing among all the different questions so in a way, the difficulty of the questions won’t affect your grade.

Epilogue. this is probably the last and only time i could do this well.... even if it does not fit the conventional definition of doing well......

[olla-village]

Language biography -My Chinese adventure

1. Here I am 18 years old

So, here I am, 18 years old confused monolingual… Finished my community college just to realize that I hate spending so much time in front of computer screens, writing code at nights, powered by coffee and greasy junk food.

 18 years old meant that I was an adult, at least both I and law of the country agreed on that… I could buy cigarettes, alcohol and tickets to other countries even if my parents were against it. I didn’t need to ask anyone’s permission. It felt like freedom. Freedom comes with responsibility, but that’s the whole different story.

 2.  It was time for something big It was time for something big.But for what? When I was younger I liked to travel to nearby cities by busses and hitchhiking. It was a mixture of being lost, on purpose… and finding something new after every trip. Traveling was my form of learning and escaping from problems at the same time.

 This time I was really lost.No direction. Hitchhiking for a week didn’t help. Yes, I tried. I needed a new medicine. I tried, like many of us nowadays, to find the answer online. Almighty Google knows it all.I didn’t know what to ask. So I decided to look at my bookmarks.

There was a website I read for more than 4 years. Or so. I guess. It is called Magazeta. They also do a podcast. Not some goofy cast, but LaowaiCast. They discuss everything about China through the eyes of laowais, speak Chinese fluently and seem to have all kinds of fun there in the mysterious country.

3. I decided to join them

I decided to become one of them, join this strange tribe. To become a laowai. A proper living in China laowai. And not an expat, who just hangs out with westerners, but a Chinese-speaking laowai. I figured out how much money I needed to study Chinese for a year, found 2 jobs that’d allow me to earn enough in 3 months. June, July and August. I became a taxi-driver, and began to work at a construction site. Not bad for a guy who majored in programming, eh? At least, there were no computers.At all. No screens, not even sunscreen. None of that, nada! I kept researching my new dreamland, China. Almighty Google told me that for my budget and for language learning Top2 options were Tianjin because Mandarin there is very standard, but it is cheaper than Beijing and Shenzhen, the most Mandarin-speaking city in Guangdong. I chose Shenzhen. It’s tropical and close to Hong Kong. I watched many Hong Kong movies as a kid and was interested in Kung Fu.

After working for 14 hours a day for 3 months I hated my jobs enough and was ready to fly to my dreamland. So I did. I kissed my parents and my girlfriend good bye and started my new scary laowai adventure. 4.  I didn’t learn Chinese before went to China I didn’t learn any Chinese before I went to Shenzhen because I read online that it’d destroy my pronunciation forever. So I followed advice of someone Almighty Google led me too. I was proud that I would’t learn broken pronunciation. Stupid. After a few, quite a few days of trains and planes, I arrived in Shenzhen. It was another planet. Humid, incomprehensible, green, terrifying and extremely friendly. No Kung Fu skills required. Beginner friendly.

I ordered a service of an interpreter who would meet me in the airport and help me to get to the hotel, the first and the last time in my life. He was quite surprised when I asked if he has a knife or at least keys when we got to an ATM. It was hard to explain why I sewed my bank-card in my pocket, but he understood that in my country people like to pick pockets. Not the best advertisement for a country, but I was determined and didn’t want to let thieves destroy my plan. 5.  Soon I didn’t go to lessons at all So I got a dorm room, figure out where I can buy pillow and started to learn Chinese in class, but soon I found that I was not able to say tones right and I was late for my writing classes on purpose, to skip that annoying dictation where I’d make a mistake in every character. Soon I didn’t go to lessons at all. I joined Wing Chun classes and hung out with other laowais and Chinese folks instead. My roommate also taught me some Chinese, especially survival kind of stuff or how to ask for cigarettes on the street, his teaching skills were particularly awesome when he was drunk. Sometimes when I met my classmates in campus they asked me why I gave up on learning Chinese, I said that I don’t go to classes, but I still learn Chinese. I hated that one guy who said he learns Chinese just to read stuff and that he doesn’t care about speaking since there’s no reason to talk with Chinese people, what a prick! I don’t hate him anymore. At that time I called my approach “just learn”. It meant learning without homework and tone drills. 6.  Laowai life was fun I spent 4 months like this. I was so busy practicing wing chun, playing football, buying fake shoes, hanging out and exploring Shenzhen that sometimes I forgot to eat for 2 or 3 days. That’s why I sometimes stole my roommate’s sushi that he’d get for free every night. Thanks to well-cooking people who lived in the girls’ dormitory, I was never hungry. I think I looked so skinny they just wanted to feed me on the level of instincts… Long story short, laowai life was fun, colorful and cheap for those who lived in campus. At least, it was for me. For 4 months or so. And then it was over.  The End. Game over. I had to go back home for what I call family reasons. I didn’t finish my 1 year Mandarin course. It was also hard to get my deposit money back, but I did. It was really good for my Mandarin skills. My WeChat was full of contacts. I packed all the tea, gifts I got from strangers in my friend’s dorm and stinky clothes. I was and wasn’t ready to leave. I told my friends that I’d be back for sure, which I doubted.

 The END or To be Continued? That is the question. At that moment, I connected language to living in that country. 7.  I missed China and Chinese Don’t live in China = don’t learn Chinese. So, obviously I gave up learning languages and broke up with my girlfriend. Luckily, I found a lazy job where I could play my phone almost all the time. For several months I just lived in my memories about China and felt some hole growing inside me. I didn’t understand where it was coming from. One cannot go and live abroad and then come back to the farm and pretend it didn’t happen. It is going to change anyone, no matter how hard this naïve person is trying to ignore it. I needed to fill that emptiness. I tried a few things. They didn’t work. Until one day I saw an ad about learning Chinese just by listening. Like literally sitting on my bottom, which I was already doing, I was even getting paid for that, and learning… Chinese! The language of my dream/nostalgia land. I was nowhere near fluency at that moment. Upperbeginner at best. I missed China and Chinese Pod became my new way to connect to the land of rice and cuteness. That emptiness inside was filled. Except for … it wasn’t. But things were getting better, way better. I felt alive again. Or maybe it was that nice Turkish coffee I was drinking while I listened to Chinese Pod? Then I thought that just listening, even good listening was not enough for that hole somewhere inside me. So I thought I need… people! But I still wanna sit on my bottom so if I find people online, I don’t need to spend extra time after job. Multitasking for the win. 8.  I started my new job I found hellotalk and some similar apps with similar names. Hellotalk was the best one, but at that time it was slow, sometimes a message was sent 4 hours or a day later, so I stole people from there by asking their whatsApp number. I started to realize that the missing ingredient in my life, besides people, was Chinese language. I also realized that escapism and dreaming about faraway lands was not an ideal solution. In search of a perfect combination of people and languages, I decided to join a university. I wanted to study Chinese, but they told me that they have teachers, but not so many students want to learn Chinese. Interpretation was not available that year. What a weird year! The only choice was teaching English, which sounded tasty at that moment, since I also wanted to change my job at that moment. I asked for all the details about exams and stuff. It was nice except for the fact that that stinking girl tricked me and I was preparing for master degree entrance exams instead of what I really needed because I was the first one who wanted to join that university that year and she didn’t really know what to tell me. It was a surprise, but I passed it super well, like top2 or something. Probably because I prepared for something way more difficult, thanks to that stinking girl. My score was a big surprise for me, since I’ve never been a top student. At the same time I started my new job. I was a tutor. Teaching kids English.1 on 1. Learning my major by practice. It was awesome. Language became my bread and peanut butter. 9.  I found my jam. It was olla. But I still needed jelly! Peanut butter sandwiches are fine, but they’re nothing like peanut butter jelly ones!

That Sunday I planned to have some rest for my brain and body. So I got a lot of nesquik and scrolled mindlessly through countless web pages full of memes and stupid videos. Until I saw an ad for a language learning app on some page where people who learn English hang out. In comments I read that most users were Chinese. These comments were written in a negative tone, but for me it was pure treasure. Here, I found my jam. It was olla. By that time, hellotalk and its clones were deleted and forgotten for a long time, but I gave olla as much of my precious SD storage and space on the screen as it wanted. I liked it for no particular reason, as I thought back then. Now I do understand that other apps couldn’t provide this kind of sense of community as olla did. It was alive, lively and vivid.

10.  It was addictive

It was a perfect place for me to practice my languages. My way to do it was to provoke people, often it meant arguing with them. I learned to be provocative in many languages. I also learned to pretend to be from different countries. The most difficult one was Australia. Controversy and gossip were my fuel. It was not just any drama, it was international. Better than Argentinian TV series! I tried many ways to catch attention, I hope that psychologists and my future employers don’t read how much of an attention seeker and drama queen I was. A few times I deleted an app and said it was shitty publically, while actually I loved it but was busy studying in my university and knew that I don’t have enough will power to keep studying while olla was still on my phone, it’d be too much of a distraction. It was addictive. Before I deleted it, I posted my email on olla plaza. Jessica was worried or surprised or something of this nature and wrote me an email. She helped me to deliver my messages to my biggest language buddy. It was one directional isolation and made me way more mysterious than I’ve ever been before. Because of me being such a d... dumbass, many people hated me, but many liked me. Many mentioned that they missed me, I knew it through gossip and screenshots. Imagine the size of my ego at that moment… After a while, I realized what other apps lacked completely and why they didn’t deserve my storage and screen space. Sense of community + drama, gossip and controversy (people crave it) + many people from different countries in the same room. Cultures don’t merge this way in 1 on 1 conversations. Other platforms also have many people from different countries,but they try to find you a match, a perfect partner. Perfect is boring. In olla people didn’t match perfectly and it was beautiful. It was colorful. It was my home anywhere I went. 11.  I couldn’t stay like this forever I couldn’t stay like this forever. All of us eventually get boring, also known as serious. I was a university student after all. Gotta be pretentious and stuff. They call it professional. I started to read a lot of SLA (Second Language Acquisition) research, just like people read news or comics. As a result, I realized that my“just learning” intuitive approach to languages was actually consistent with research. Even gossip and drama. But mostly community and compelling input. It is kind of the same thing.

Not only I pretty much filled that emptiness by languages, I also came to the point where my experience met science\research. Like yin and yang.

12.  I started to plan to get back to China After that, I decided to get my life together again and I started to plan how to get back to China. I didn’t get any good idea how to do it, but I started to save money and told my classmates and buddies that most probably I will go to China again. Fake it till you make it works every time. I also told some folks on olla about my plan. I really do consider olla to be my hometown and I did find real life friends there. I think it’s safe to say that I spent more time on olla than with my real life friends. I also spent a lot of time with my offline friends, but they can be less available than something tiny in my cheap phonethat opens the door to my friends. Wait, olla is real, so it’s also real life. People there are real. Language learning there is real as well. Wrong dichotomy. So I spent more time in my olla hometown than in another one because it felt warmer and closer.

My best language buddy who already became my friend decided to help me make my second laowai life happen much faster than I imagined and invited me to join olla team. I pretended that I am so cool and need to think for 1 day or so, like it is not a big deal, when in reality it was dreams come true type of deal, at that moment I was already packing my small backpack and getting ready for the second chapter of China. This time it was Guangzhou.

To be continued.

 You can read my language buddy’s story here

(my story https://wordpress.com/block-editor/post/ollaolla.home.blog/40)

 Bear

2019/10/1

[newstfionline]

I won the Doctor Lottery—but only after some bad encounters

Jackson Nakazawa, Washington Post, May 27, 2017

When my son was 5 weeks old, he began to turn away from my breast even when hungry. He’d suck, then cry sharply and twist away. I called the office of my pediatrician, but she had no free appointments, so I saw another doctor in the practice instead. He examined my son, told me he had “gas pains,” and then asked me, “Are you feeling anxious about being a good mom?”

The next day, my son seemed better. Had I been overly anxious? Then my son projectile-vomited across the bedroom. I strapped him into his car seat and headed back to the doctor. The doctor I’d seen the day before asked his nurse to take me aside for a “mom heart-to-heart.” Being a new mom is anxiety-inducing, the nurse said, adding, “What are you doing for you?” I burst into tears. They must have thought I was a postpartum hormonal time bomb.

The next morning when my son tried to breast-feed, he stopped and screamed in a way that resonated within my cells. That sensation was something I’d felt only once before in my life.

Three decades earlier, at the age of 12, I’d stood at the side of my father’s hospital bed after he’d undergone a bowel resection, a “routine” gastrointestinal surgery. Every grown-up had told me that my dad would be fine despite postoperative complications. But as I looked into my father’s eyes that afternoon, I saw a depth of pain-laced love and the anticipation of loss. My earth tipped on its axis. I suddenly knew that despite what everyone was telling me, my father would not be fine.

That night, at the age of 42, my father died.

I arrived at the pediatrician’s office on the third morning of my son’s unexplained distress. As I began to explain why I was there, the doctor--the same one--interrupted me, gave me a handout on colic and a pat on the back, and ushered me out.

Just at that moment, my son’s original doctor--the one I’d joined the practice to see--stepped out of another room and saw me. “Haven’t I seen you here every day?” she asked, in a very kind voice. I nodded, swallowing back tears. “Let’s see your baby.”

She extended her arms and laid my son on the exam table, gently palpating his abdomen. “Tell me about when you first felt something wasn’t right. What else have you been noticing?”

She took a bottle of breast milk from my hands and offered it to my son. He sucked, turned beet red and twisted away with a sob. “Does he do this on the breast, too?”

I nodded.

Then she uttered the words that would save my son’s life. “I listen to my moms,” she said. “Given what I’m observing, I’d like to get an abdominal sonogram. His abdomen seems distended and hard,” she said.

A few hours later, the hospital’s sonogram report suggested pyloric stenosis, a condition caused by a tight muscle that prevents food from exiting the stomach and entering the intestines. When that muscle becomes rigid, it resembles an olive.

“I’ve called a pediatric surgeon at Johns Hopkins,” the pediatrician said. “He’ll meet you at the ER. Pack what you’ll need for the next week.” She put her hand on my arm. “I know this is difficult. But I promise you, we will help your baby. We will get through this.” She handed me a slip of paper. “Here’s my cell. Call when you’ve arrived.”

As I held my son against me, feeling his tired exhales warm and moist against my neck, I clung to the paper like a talisman.

Later that afternoon, the Hopkins surgeon examined my son, rubbing his thumb over his belly, looking for the swollen muscle. “Pyloric stenosis, my eye!” he nearly roared. “There’s no olive here!”

The new tests he wanted to run seemed invasive, and our pediatrician called to reassure my husband and me. “Please, trust us with your baby,” she said. “This is a cautious but necessary path.”

That evening, we stood outside a glass-walled room while our infant son underwent a procedure in which an ingested chalky substance made of barium can show abnormalities of the gastrointestinal tract on a live X-ray feed. Suddenly, the radiologist screamed. She picked up the phone and called the surgeon. “You have to see this! His intestines are wrapped north of his stomach! They’re about to twist off!” The surgeon arrived and operated on our son, unfurling his intestines, removing 21 adhesions and carefully placing his bowels back inside his abdomen.

Our baby’s recovery was tenuous. Some days, we ended up back at the hospital. Our surgeon called for nightly reports on bowel sounds. Once, we met our pediatrician at her office at 11 p.m.; another time, she examined our son on a bench during her son’s sporting event to ensure that his postoperative discomfort was not related to the surgery. Each time we saw each other that year--and even a few times during the two decades that followed--we hugged, blinking back tears. As my son began to live a normal boy’s life, we sighed with relief. He was, we agreed, “the one who almost got away.”

Today, my son is 6-foot-2, about to graduate from college. When he was a newborn, his three-inch scar extended across his belly. Today that scar appears small. In the past two decades, his case has been taught in medical schools as an example of a potentially fatal diagnosis error in newborns, and it has been used in lawsuits by parents whose pediatricians hadn’t listened and whose children had needlessly died.

Why were we so fortunate? I didn’t know it at first, but despite almost losing our child, something good, and rare, had happened. We had won what I’ve since come to call the Doctor Lottery.

When you win the Doctor Lottery, there is no cash prize but a far greater payoff: the possibility of extraordinary healing, even a miracle. Our son survived because our physician took the time to listen, show compassion, partner with us, advocate and provide just the right care to save a life.

My family and I haven’t always won the Doctor Lottery. My father’s surgeon, for instance, had pushed him to have the bowel resection to “cure” him of diverticulitis, a disease in which the colon’s lining becomes inflamed. He stitched up my father’s intestines with a suture known to dissolve in patients who have been on steroids and hadn’t read my father’s chart to see that his internist had recently put him on cortisone. Nor did he look at the list of medications my father had carefully written down on his patient-intake forms. When the sutures dissolved, my father, who had a bleeding disorder, went into shock. His abdomen was distended and hard.

My mother asked the nurse to page the surgeon. “My husband is in so much pain!” she said. The surgeon, who was playing golf, told the nurse to tell my mother, “Pain after surgery is normal.” By the time my father developed a fever and peritonitis, it was too late. He died of a heart attack. “Normal courses of antibiotics proved unsuccessful,” my father’s death report reads.

These experiences informed my own health journey when, in 2001, I became a revolving-door hospital patient facing two long periods of paralysis from Guillain-Barré syndrome, or GBS, a neurological autoimmune disease that can cause total paralysis. The day my Hopkins neurologist delivered the diagnosis, I passed through a portal into a terrifying and unknown universe.

As my husband filled out admission papers, my neurologist sat beside my wheelchair, explaining the treatment I would undergo. He would start infusions of other people’s healthy immune cells to try to reverse my paralysis. After he finished talking, we sat together in silence. Nurses rapped at the door. His patient waiting room filled. But he never left my side. I asked him why he stayed with me when he had so much to do. “I will not leave you sitting here alone,” he said. “Not with the news I’ve just given you.”

Over the next few months, I mostly recovered. But although GBS rarely strikes twice, four years later I developed it again. This time, I fell into a state of paralysis faster, and the damage to my nerves was more extensive. During my hospitalization, several of my doctor’s fellow neurologists warned me to “hope for the best but prepare for the worst.” They said that I might never get out of a wheelchair. But my neurologist shook his head and reassured me that some people did recover. He thought I could, too. “Don’t listen to them,” he told me. “I’m your doctor; I know you.”

His words stayed with me until eventually, I was able to navigate steps with a cane, then walk out my front door and down the driveway.

Still, like many GBS patients, I navigated through continuing flulike fatigue. I’d also developed symptoms of what would later be diagnosed as gastroparesis, a condition in which the stomach can’t empty itself normally. When I saw a local doctor for symptoms of what I assumed was an intestinal problem, he seemed to think me a hysteric and handed me a prescription drug for heartburn and esophageal problems. I will never forget the look of disdain on his face the second time I saw him when I hadn’t improved: “A few days ago you came in saying you were nauseated, and today you say you have diarrhea!” he said. “Make up your mind!”

I tried several other doctors over the next three years as my medical problems continued, until finally I found Anastasia Rowland-Seymour, then an internist at Johns Hopkins, who carefully listened to me tell my whole medical story--without ever looking at her computer. I told her that I knew I was lucky to be doing so well--walking, driving. But I also had bone-deep fatigue, numbness and headaches, and I often found myself so tired I had to lie down on the floor after climbing the stairs.

“That has to have taken quite a toll on you,” she said, wondering whether I thought that the decades of stress I’d faced might have played a role in the immune dysfunction she believed I now faced. She asked me whether my childhood had been stressful. I was astonished. “I’ve never thought about it that way,” I said and told her about my father’s sudden and young death, which had profoundly altered the childhood of my siblings and me.

From that day, I felt I’d found a partner on a path to healing, one who helped me incrementally incorporate mind-body approaches to well-being with conventional medical care. Rowland-Seymour told me she believed that my childhood stressors probably had altered the way my immune system responded, playing a role in GBS and gastroparesis, and also causing my immune system to attack my bone marrow, leading to profound fatigue.

Over the next year, my health dramatically improved.

My family’s experience has taught me how important to healing the doctor-patient partnership is. Every patient wants--and deserves--to win the Doctor Lottery. It shouldn’t be simply a matter of chance.

Here’s what I learned:

* In my healing encounters, I felt that I was being heard, understood and respected by my doctor.

A 2015 study found that patients overwhelmingly felt that what mattered most was having a physician who listened, acknowledged their condition, was honest and treated them as an equal. A 2006 study found that the single greatest predictor of whether patients with HIV adhered to treatment was whether they felt “known as a person” by their physician.

* The extraordinary doctors who tended my family made it clear they would stand shoulder to shoulder with us--rather than simply to give directives and move on. Not one of them stared at their computer screen while in the exam room; they talked to us face to face, like a friend. That rapport helped us deal with uncertainty in the face of terror, and preserve a hope for recovery.

This doesn’t mean offering a patient false hope, Rowland-Seymour says, but rather “a sense that we are going to figure out how to manage this, and get you better, and we are going to do it as a team.”

* Past trauma needs to part of any medical discussion. Studies have shown its long-term impact on health, yet most physicians are trained to “walk around trauma as the elephant in the room,” Rowland-Seymour says. But you can’t achieve true healing unless you deal with that elephant, she says.

Being tended to by doctors who are sensitive to patient needs and experiences can make the difference between a healing experience and one that is traumatic or worse.

I only wish it weren’t too late for my father to win the Doctor Lottery. His unnecessary death has inspired me to insist on having doctors who listen and treat me with respect. It is bittersweet that my dad’s unintentional legacy would help me reclaim my health and save the life of the grandson who, sadly, he never got to meet.

Jackson Nakazawa is a science journalist and the author of “Childhood Disrupted,” “The Last Best Cure” and “The Autoimmune Epidemic.”

[icaberries]

Destination: In Your Arms

Title: Destination: In Your Arms

Author: kagstsukki

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairings: Kageyama Tobio/Kindaichi Yuutarou/Kunimi Akira, Oikawa Tooru/Kuroo Tetsurou

Tags: Soulmate AU, Canon Divergence, Polyamory, Long Distance Relationships

Word Count: 2,914 words 

Author’s Note: Hiiiiiii~ <3 This was written for @okiiita for the who @hqrarepairexchange. They listed KinKuniKage and OiKuroo as their rare ships. I couldn’t decide which one to focus on so I just did both of them! I hope you like it! (^3^)~<3 

Edit: I’m shit with measurements. I changed some of the distances because they did not make sense ;) 

Summary:

"Your soulmate is coming?"

Fuck. "Ah...yeah...He'll be here at the opening ceremony. I hope."

"That's nice." Kageyama looks wistful as he stares at his bandaged left wrist. His right hand twitches as if itching to see his numbers, but it stays by his side.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Your soulmates must be watching wherever they are, right?" Kuroo ruffles his hair playfully and Kageyama blushes in embarrassment.

9:08pm, 1200 meters

Tobio: We're boarding our bus now. We'll get to Tokyo around 5am.

Akira: Have a safe trip.

Yuutarou: When does your first game start?

Tobio: Two days from now. We have a day for sightseeing and one for training.

Tobio: Do you want me to bring home anything?

Yuutarou: the Nationals trophy

Tobio: That's already a given

Tobio: ...

Tobio: I really wish you guy could come with me.

Yuutarou: We want to

Yuutarou: But we still have school. I don't think our parents would want us to skip just to head to Tokyo.

Tobio: :(

Akira: Cheer up. The finals is on a weekend, right? We'll be there.

Akira: For now we'll cheer you on from here.

Yuutarou: Oikawa-san is gonna bring his laptop. We can watch the live stream during breaks or after training.

Tobio: Oikawa-san's gonna watch?

Akira: Kuroo-san is participating, isn't he?

Tobio: Ohhhh...

Tobio: That's nice.

Yuutarou: Shit. I gotta go. My Mom's making me go to bed early.

Yuutarou: Have a safe trip, Tobio! Good night!

Yuutarou has logged out

Akira: I have to go to. I have an exam next week.

Akira: You'll do great out there, Tobio.

Tobio: Thank you.

Tobio: Good night, Akira.

Akira: <3

Tobio: <3

Akira has logged out

Tobio has logged out

9:30pm, 1200 meters

Tanaka arrives last, muttering something about his sister and dramatic goodbyes, and they finally make their way to Tokyo.

Kageyama looks out of the window at Karasuno High School with its closed lights and empty hallways. Under normal circumstances, tomorrow would just be another day for weekend training. However, tomorrow they would be miles away in a different city, participating in a tournament that could make a mark in the history of the Karasuno VBC.

"What'cha thinking about Kageyama?" Hinata asks next to him. Despite the darkness of the night, his eyes are still bright, still full of spark and ready for the next challenge.

"Nothing," he answers, but Hinata catches him fiddling with his cellphone.

"They're not coming?" Hinata asks, understanding immediately.

Kageyama sighs, turning away to look out of the window. The bus has exited the school now and is slowly rumbling down the hill. Their teammates are absorbed with talking to each other or trying to sleep. "Our first game is on Monday. They have classes. Of course they can't come."

"Do you want them to?"

Kageyama lowers himself in his seat-he is still unused to someone asking about his feelings-but Hinata's eyes are bright and patient. He'd be lying if he said he doesn't trust him after all they've been through together.

"I miss them," he says, finally putting away his phone. His wrist itches the farther they go. "It hasn't been that long since we got back together again. We promised each other in middle school that we'd go to Nationals together someday. To go there without them...it feels...it's just...it-"

"It doesn't feel right," Hinata finishes for him.

The bus finally arrives at the foot of the hill. It passes by Sakanoshita Store and Ukai-san looks out the window with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Yeah."

Silence passes between them. The bus passes by closed houses, closed shops and cafes, an occasional open store and quiet, empty streets. Everyone is still wide awake, talking in hushed voices. It hasn't quite sink in that they're on their way to Nationals.

"I think they'd go if they can, Kageyama."

"I know."

In a few minutes, they're out of Miyagi and Kageyama feels the distance stretch between him and his soulmates. His wrist burns.

In their world, soulmates are marked with numbers on their wrist corresponding to the physical distance between them.

Kindaichi and Kunimi both lay in bed, watching as one set of their numbers steadily increases and the other one remains the same.

Kageyama watches as the both sets of his numbers rise until he falls asleep, slumped against Hinata.

11:37am, [0m] [365000m]

The Aoba Johsai Men's Volleyball Club had a tradition that every two weeks they'd meet up and hang out outside of volleyball practice. Today they're at a ramen shop they always frequent after games and the owner jovially greets them and ushers them to a long table in the corner. Everyone's being loud and cheerful, the pain of losing semifinals only a memory behind them.

The noise distracts Kindaichi from looking at his numbers as he joins in cheering on the arm wrestling match between Kyoutani and Hanamaki. Next to him sits Kunimi who is frowning down at his wrist. While Kindaichi seems to be able to distract himself, he can't stop thinking about his numbers and worrying about Kageyama. Being a poly bond, all of them have two sets of numbers. While him and Kindaichi have a set saying 0m, Kageyama has both sets showing the enormous distance between them.

Oikawa, who has been unexpectly quiet the whole afternoon, takes a look at both of them, at the upset look on Kunimi's face and forced smile on Kindaichi's. It prompts him to make the announcement.

"I won't be going to school tomorrow."

His voice is loud enough to carry over the entire table. The arm wrestly match abruptly stops, the cheering dies down as the team looks at their captain and Iwaizumi scowls.

"Where the fuck are you going then?" Iwaizumi asks, concern masked under the gruff statement.

"To Tokyo," when he says this, he looks at Kunimi and Kindaichi as if the knew the exact effect his words will have on them.

They're distracted by the arrival of their food. Iwaizumi waits until everyone is tucking in before bumping Oikawa in the shoulder. "I'll cover for you."

"Don't you always do that anyway?" Oikawa smiles, genuine. Iwaizumi snorts and starts eating his ramen. "There's a problem though."

"What's that?"

"If you're covering for me-" Oikawa levels a look at Kunimi and Kindaichi, a knowing look on his face. "-who's gonna cover for  you two?"

It's one of the few moments Kunmi is convinced Oikawa is a psychic.

11:32pm, 365000m

Tooru: Find a way for Tobio-chan to cover up his soulmate marks tomorrow.

Tetsu: ???

Tetsu: Okayyyyy

Tetsu: y tho?

Tooru: just do it

Tooru: And why the fuck are you still awake anyway?

Tooru: jfc go to sleep it's Nationals tomorrow!!!!!

Tetsu: says the guy who gets 2 hrs of sleep on game days

Tetsu: But yeah, ok. Ill sleep in a min.

Tetsu: y do you need me to get kags to cover up his marks?

Tooru: because I'm an awesome senpai

Tetsu: stfu im better

Tooru: prove it

Tetsu: I got lev and shiba to realize why their numbers are always the same

Tooru: Well, I'm driving Yuu-chan and Sleepy-chan all the way to Tokyo to see their bf

Tetsu: Fukunaga and Tora got me a 'World's Okay-est Captain' shirt

Tetsu: Daichi got a '#1 Captain' mug smh

Tooru: wtf i want one

Tooru: I locked Yaha-chan and Kyouken in the supply room until they confessed!

Tetsu: Kenma says I have better hair than you

Tooru: LIES

Tooru: SCREW YOU TETSU-CHAN

Tetsu: get to tokyo and we'll see ;)))

Tooru: GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP ALREADY

Tooru: AND SEE YOU TOMORROW

Tooru has logged out

Tetsu: Love you too~

Tetsu has logged out

8:17am <unknown>

"Kageyama-kun are okay? Why is your wrist bandaged?"

"Kuroo-san says Kenma-san and Akaashi-san do this before games for good luck."

"You do know that's a load of bull—mmph!"

"Shut up, Tsukki."

"Wait, isn't that Tsukishima's line?"

"Sorry Yamaguchi."

"What's with the role reversal?!"

6:00am [0m] [363400m]

"Sleepy-chan, Yuu-chan. Get in."

Kunimi eyes the light blue Cadillac dubiously. "Um..."

"Don't worry! I have my license already. We'll be fine."

"That's not very assuring, Oikawa-san." Kunimi says as he climbs in the back seat with his and Kindaichi's bags. Kindaichi tries to join him but is stopped by Oikawa.

"Go ride shotgun, Yuu-chan."

Kindaichi pales. "Do I have to?"

"Of course." Oikawa steers him to the front seat and all but pushes him in. "That way I don't feel like a Mom chaffeuring her two kids to their first date."

"You'll survive," Kunimi says in consolation, patting his shoulder. Kindaichi gives him a withering look as puts on his seatbelt.

Oikawa slides in the driver's seat, checks all the mirrors and puts on his seatbelt. "I got Kuroo-chan to convince Tobio-chan to cover his marks. That way it will be a surprise."

"Thanks Oikawa-san," Kunimi says and Kindaichi echoes his sentiments. It's not just about the surprise, it's for everything—lying smoothly to their parents about their whereabouts, getting Iwaizumi to cover for them at school, driving them in the first place.

Oikawa understands what they mean and looks fondly at his two juniors. "You're welcome. A captain has to look out for his team, y'know?"

The tender moment lasts for about two seconds until Oikawa shoots out of the driveway and narrowly misses hitting a trash can on their way out.

10:02am, 9500m

Kuroo stares at his numbers. They've been steadily decreasing since morning. A flutter of anticipation washes over him at the thought of seeing Oikawa again. The last time they saw each other had been last summer when Nekoma went to Miyagi for a practice match and he snuck out to see Oikawa for a few minutes.

"Um...Kuroo-san?"

Kageyama is standing in front of him, fidgeting with the bandage on his wrist. "Can I take it off now?"

"No!" he bursts out, starlting both of them. "Not until they get here."

"Not until who gets here?"

Shit. "U-Until Kenma or Akaashi gets here. You can ask them when to take it off. I don't really know. Must be a setter thing." Kuroo laughs nervously, scratching at his cheek with his index finger. Kageyama follows the movement, eyes zeroing in on the numbers on Kuroo's wrist.

"Your soulmate is coming?"

Fuck. "Ah...yeah...He'll be here at the opening ceremony. I hope."

"That's nice." Kageyama looks wistful as he stares at his bandaged left wrist. His right hand twitches as if itching to see his numbers, but it stays by his side.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Your soulmates must be watching wherever they are, right?" Kuroo ruffles his hair playfully and Kageyama blushes in embarassment.

If Kageyama was Oikawa's kouhai way back then, that makes him partially Kuroo's too, right?

10:34am, 4897m

"Shit." Oikawa looks out into the sea of cars before him. They were already inside Tokyo, but the stadium where Nationals was being held was still far away. To top it off, they were stuck in traffic, squeezed between a truck and a minivan and the noise of Tokyo's streets pounding through the windows.

"Are we going to make it?" Kindaichi asks worriedly, scratching at his numbers. They haven't changed for a while now. "The program starts at 11."

"We'll get there," Oikawa promises. His grip around the steering wheel tightens. "We just have to...get in front of this line somehow."

Oikawa glances at Kunimi in the mirror. He is rubbing at his wrist restlessly as if it would make the numbers change faster. To his side, Kindaichi sticks his head out of the window to look at the traffic light up ahead. Oikawa looks down at his own mark. The number marked there is practically mocking him, telling him he's close but it's not enough.

"Kindaichi, get back inside. Kunimi, seatbelt now."

The use of their real names prompt his two juniors to scramble for their seats. Up ahead, the light turns green and the cars start moving forward. When the truck in front of them moves he turns to face both of them, an intense look in his eyes.

"Do not tell Iwa-chan about this," he stresses. They nod furiously.

Oikawa floors it.

10:40am, <427meters>

"What the fuck?!" Kuroo exclaims as he watches the number on his wrist rapidly decrease. "What is he doing?"

"Your soulmate must be excited to see you." Kageyama comments, unknown to him that his numbers are doing the same beneath the bandage. He removes his eyes from Kuroo's decreasing numbers when he catches sight of yellow and white jerseys down the hallway. "Oh, I see Akaashi-san. I'll ask him about the bandage."

"Kageyama wait!"

Hurry the fuck up, Tooru.

10:42am, <157m>

Kindaichi has done suicide laps until he fainted, he went sky diving from a plane on a dare, he experienced a forty feet drop off a roller coaster.

None of that could compare to Oikawa Tooru's driving.

The scenery blurs outside the vehicle as Oikawa weaves through the traffic and goes through the smallest of spaces as if he is simply looking for cracks in a blocker's defense. Kindaichi yelps as they almost crash into an electric pole if not for Oikawa making a sharp turn that almost lifted one side of the car.

Kunimi has his eyes closed in the back seat, trying to ignore all the chaos. Kindaichi itches to hold his hand for comfort but it's currently busy holding on to the safety bar above his head for his dear life.

And if he somehow broke said bar during the ride, he'll apologize to Iwaizumi later.

Assuming Iwaizumi won't be too busy killing Oikawa for this.

10:44am, <unknown>

"A lucky charm for setters?" Akaashi raises a brow, confused.

"Kuroo-san said you and Kenma-san do it before games." Kageyama raises his wrist to reveal the bandage wrapped around it. "When can I remove it?"

Akaashi looks behind Kageyama to where Kuroo is making cross motions with his hands.

"You can take it off now, if you'd like," he says, smile borderline sly.  Kuroo's jaw drops. "I don't know about you, but I don't like hiding my soulmate mark."

"Fucking hell Akaashi!"

10:46am, 110m

Kunimi staggers out of the car, dropping on his knees on the asphalt of the parking lot.

"Oh sweet land, I am never leaving you again," he mutters, pressing his cheek on the ground.

"Now's not the time for a nap," Oikawa says. His hair still artfully styled after the ride. What the hell? He's helping a pale Kindaichi out of the car. "I'm calling Kuroo-chan!"

10:47am, [15m] [15m]

"Huh?"

Kageyama stares at his numbers in disbelief. This morning it was 365200, but now it was only 15?

"Looks like your soulmates are nearby. I'd go find them if I were you. The ceremony starts in a few minutes," Akaashi says before walking back to the clustered Fukurodani players.

Kuroo pulls out his phone at an incoming text.

Tooru: We're here!!! Lobby, near the player's entrance. Hurry!!!

"Sawamura! I need to borrow your setter for minute. Yaku, keep an eye on the team!"

Ignoring their indignant shouts, Kuroo grabs Kageyama by the arm and bolts.

10:49, 3.3528m

Kunimi is someone who values his sleep. Few things hold rapture over him than the bliss of a nap. However, included in those few things are his boyfriends. It's why he let Kindaichi burst through his bedroom door at 5am in the morning. It's why he willingly skipped class just to drive four hours to Tokyo. It's why he's standing here right now.

Kindaichi's heart has just returned to its normal pace after Oikawa's driving from hell, but the sight of Kageyama appearing in the lobby makes it speed up again. A large smile fills his face at the look of surprise and utter happiness on Kageyama's face at the sight of them.

Kageyama stares at them. Is it really-?

He starts running.

14m

13m

12m

9m

6m

4m

2m

He launches himself at Kindaichi who catches him in his arms, laughing as he twirls them around.

0m

"You came! You're here! You're real!" Kageyama says, excitement on his features and his eyes bright as he looks at them, their ruffled hair, their tired eyes and the happy smiles on their faces.

"Of course. There was no way we're missing your first Nationals game." Kindaichi brushes their noses together, earning him a breathless laugh.

"But school--"

"There are two hundred days in a school year." Kunimi says, stepping up and cupping his cheek. "But only one day for our boyfriend's Nationals debut."

"But how--"

"Oikawa-san drove us." Kunimi buries his hear in Kageyama's black uniform jacket. "We had to wake up at dawn to make it on time." He nuzzles against him, letting out a soft yawn.

"Are you still sleepy?" Kageyama asks, running a hand through his hair.

"Worth it. You're always worth it, Tobio."

"Unlike you, Kunimi is not good in sleeping in a moving vehicle. Especially if it's Oikawa-san driving." Oikawa makes an affronted noise a few feet away but it's drowned out by his giggles as Kuroo peppers his face with kisses, arms wrapped around Oikawa's waist.

Kindaichi tries to pull Kunimi off Kageyama. "Come on, if we get inside now you can take a nap before the opening ceremony."

"Wait." Kunimi pulls away but he still has a hand gripping Kageyama's jacket. He pulls him down by the fabric and presses a kiss on his cheek. When Kunimi lets go, there's a smirk on his face. "Go kick some ass."

Kageyama grins, feral, determined and beautiful all at once. "Count on it."

Kindaichi kisses the top of his head. "Show the world what you can do."

"So I'll just show you two then?"

They look at him in confusion.

Kageyama smiles. "You two are my world after all."

Forget Oikawa's driving, it's Kageyama's smile that kills them in the end.

[poundfooolish]

So I think I just found my favorite fucking assassin in US History:

The assassination of Abraham Lincoln was deemed a fluke due to the Civil War, and Garfield, like most people, saw no reason why the president should be guarded; Garfield's movements and plans were often printed in the newspapers. Guiteau knew the president would leave Washington for cooler climes on July 2, and made plans to kill him before then. He purchased a gun he thought would look good in a museum, and followed Garfield several times, but each time his plans were frustrated, or he lost his nerve. His opportunities dwindled to one—Garfield's departure by train for New Jersey on the morning of July 2, 1881.

Like. God fucking bless.

He inherited $1,000 from his grandfather as a young man and went to Ann Arbor, Michigan, in order to attend the University of Michigan. Due to inadequate academic preparation, he failed the entrance examinations. Despite cramming in French and algebra at Ann Arbor High School, during which time he received numerous letters from his father concerning his progress, he quit, and in June 1860 joined the utopian religious sect the Oneida Community, in Oneida, New York, with which Guiteau's father already had close affiliations.

Despite the "group marriage" aspects of that sect, he was generally rejected during his five years there, and was nicknamed "Charles Gitout". He left the community twice.

Wait, I’d actually heard of Charles Gitout, I didn’t realize this was the same guy HOLY SHIT. IMAGINE GETTING KICKED OUT OF THE ORGY CULT. Shit this is even the cult that’s all about group shaming, imagine being not only rejected from the orgy cult but having to be the guy no one likes in the orgy cult during the weekly shame-offs. No wonder he left twice.

Guiteau then obtained a law license in Chicago, based on an extremely casual bar exam. He was not successful. He argued only one case in court, the bulk of his business being in bill collecting. [..]

He next turned to theology. He published a book on the subject called The Truth which was almost entirely plagiarized from the work of Noyes. He wandered from town to town lecturing to any and all who would listen to his religious ramblings [...]

On June 11, 1880, he was a passenger on the SS Stonington when it collided with the SS Narragansett at night in heavy fog. The Stonington was able to return to port, but the Narragansett burned to the waterline and sank, with significant loss of life. Although none of his fellow passengers on the Stonington were injured, the incident left Guiteau believing that he had been spared for a higher purpose.

IMAGINE BEING SO EGOTISTICAL THAT BEING ON A SHIP WITH A 100% SURVIVAL RATE MAKES YOU THINK GOD SPARED YOU SPECIFICALLY FOR A HIGHER PURPOSE

His personal requests to Garfield and to cabinet members as one of many job seekers who lined up every day were continually rejected; on May 14, 1881, he was finally told never to return by Secretary of State James G. Blaine.

I mean. I can’t fucking blame you Blaine. This man was such a collossal failure holy shit. 

Borrowing $15 from a Mr. Maynard, Guiteau went out to purchase a revolver.

HE DIDN’T EVEN BUY IT HIMSELF HE HAD TO BORROW MONEY SO HE COULD KILL A MAN OH MY GOD

 He knew little about firearms, but did know that he would need a large caliber gun. He had to choose between a .442 Webley caliber British Bulldog revolver with wooden grips or one with ivory grips. He chose the one with the ivory handle because he wanted it to look good as a museum exhibit after the assassination.

I don’t know whether this is “extra” or prudence I mean he has a fucking point BUT STILL

Though he could not afford the extra dollar, the store owner dropped the price for him. He spent the next few weeks in target practice – the kick from the revolver almost knocked him over the first time – and stalking Garfield. The revolver was recovered after the assassination, and even photographed by the Smithsonian in the early 20th century, but it has since been lost. 

HOLY SHIT, HE LITERALLY ONLY EVER DID 1 THING RIGHT IN HIS WHOLE LIFE, EVEN HIS CAREFUL ATTEMPT AT MAKING A GOOD MUSEUM DISPLAY FUCKING FAILED. I’m just. So in awe at the concentrated failure here. 

Guiteau became something of a media sensation during his entire trial for his bizarre behavior, which included him frequently cursing and insulting the judge, most of the witnesses, the prosecution, and even his defense team, as well as formatting his testimony in epic poems which he recited at length, and soliciting legal advice from random spectators in the audience via passed notes. He dictated an autobiography to the New York Herald, ending it with a personal ad for "a nice Christian lady under 30 years of age". He was oblivious to the American public's hatred of him, even after he was almost assassinated twice himself. He frequently smiled and waved at spectators and reporters in and out of the courtroom, seemingly happy to be the center of attention for once in his life.

Guiteau attempted to convince President Chester A. Arthur to set him free through a letter as he had just increased Arthur's salary by making him president.  At one point, Guiteau argued before Judge Cox that President Garfield was killed not by the bullets but by medical malpractice ("The doctors killed Garfield, I just shot him").

MY DUDE WHAT THE SHIT ARE YOU DOING, though actually apparently some historians do believe that Garfield would have survived if the doctors had practiced any sort of sterilization, but that didn’t come for another 10 odd years.

While being led to his execution, Guiteau was said to have continued to smile and wave at spectators and reporters, happy to be at the center of attention to the very end. He notoriously danced his way to the gallows and shook hands with his executioner. On the scaffold, as a last request, he recited a poem called I am Going to the Lordy, which he had written during his incarceration. He had originally requested an orchestra to play as he sang his poem, but this request was denied.

Extra to the FUCKING END, I looked up the poem and:

After "stubbing his toe on the way to the gallows", as he put it to the executioner, Guiteau read Matthew 14:28-32 and announced that he would now read a prayer of his own composition. After paraphrasing Matthew 18:3, Guiteau proceeded to read the poem from a piece of paper in a style described as both "sad and doleful" as well as "high pitched" and "childlike". Guiteau had requested an orchestra to play behind him as he recited his poem, but his request was denied. After completing the first verse in song, Guiteau stopped singing and chanted the rest. Multiple times during the reading, Guiteau's voice would fail and he would begin sobbing, even stopping to lay his head on the shoulder of a man standing by him. Right before the completion of the poem, Guiteau raised his voice even higher into falsetto to deliver the final two lines. As the executioner fitted the hood over Guiteau's head and put the rope around his neck, he held onto the piece of paper on which he had written his poem. As per request with the executioner, Guiteau signaled that he was ready to die by dropping the paper.

This man... holy shit this man... literally to the fucking end

Upon his autopsy it was discovered that Guiteau had the condition known as phimosis, an inability to retract the foreskin, which at the time was thought to have caused insanity that led him to assassinate Garfield.

God I love old-timey medecine. That’s absolutely it you mad motherfuckers, he was driven mad by foreskin.

I fucking. Love. History.

[rtirman-blog]

21       Graduation,roses, and                          baseball.

The first graduation I remember ever attending was when I graduated from high school.  I can’t remember going to Al’s graduation, but I know he graduated.  Mickey and I graduated together.  Mickey is sharper than almost everyone I know.  He was having difficulty in school because he has dyslexia.   The whole way through his education, the schools and the teachers had no idea how to help…or they never heard of dyslexia. There were no such things as Learning Services, or Disability Services. I can’t even remember any Special Education classes.  Generally, just about any kind of disability put you out of school, destined for home education.  

 Our graduation was outside in Freeport Stadium, the home of the Freeport Red Devils!  We were on a portable stage, located on the 50-yard line of our football field.  I can remember both Mickey and me receiving our diplomas on that very sunny, breezy day in June of 1954.  Mother and Joe, probably, were in the stands. But if it was on a Saturday, Daddy and Phyllis were not. However, if it was a Sunday, all of them were there.  I can guarantee no grandparents, aunts, uncles, or friends of our family were there.

 Neither Mickey nor I received any kind of special recognition.  However, if there was recognition for most absences, Mickey deserved that award, with me as runner up.   If you were absent from school, you needed to bring in a signed note from home giving the reason for your absence.  I wrote all the notes.  If my mother would have written one, it would have been considered a forgery.  Here’s an example:

                 Dear Mrs. Skinner,

                 Please excuse my son Michael for having been absent yesterday,

                December 11, 1953. He was kept home from school because of

                 illness.

                 Sincerely,

                 Signature,

 One time when Mickey played hooky, I decided I was not writing an excuse for him because he could have made it to school that day, and he had far too many days absent.  Naturally, Mickey was certain I would write the excuse for him.  He kindly explained my options- write the excuse… or…get the crap beat out of me and then write the excuse.  My role, as the excuse writer, over time, may have made me more responsible and adult like. Regarding Mickey’s attendance behavior…I told him I would not write the excuse.  After a few punches in the arm and my face being pushed into the living room floor, I wrote the note… in tears.  In my heart, I vowed to shove a knife into his stomach when I get bigger.  It has never happened. But we are both still breathing in our 80’s – there still is time!

 Before I write about my life after high school graduation, there are just a couple of things I want to share with you that happened earlier. The first involves my friend Roger, my wingman who helped me get that date with Carol Lee in 6th grade. Evidently, the B-12 vitamins he was consuming helped him grow. By the time we were juniors in high schools, Roger was a good five inches taller than me.

Also, he was much more involved with girls than me.  We did hang out sometimes. But as time progressed, I saw less and less of Roger. I spent most of my time with John and, of course, Mickey.  It was weird, in a way. He probably had friends I never met; yet no matter what he was doing in life, I always felt close to him- he was forever my friend.  He died from nephritis at age 24.  I was in the Mid-West when I got the call telling me he died.  All I remember was me lying, face down, on the living room rug crying.  Even with the years of separation, I lost a “brother”. My memories of him are forever.

 The story is about softball, and it begins with Roger.  It was either the summer of 1952 or 1953.  Roger’s dad helped Roger form a softball team.  Unlike the basketball team when I wasn’t a starter, I was a starter on the softball team.. I was put in right field.   Do you have any idea what being put in right field meant?  It was like being told you stink at this sport. Since we have to include you, we’ll put you in right field (where there is hardly any action), and oh! you are batting ninth (last in the lineup). As the home team, we ran out onto the field as the game began.   I was all set, and all alone, way out in right field.  I should have been playing 2nd base.  That’s my position.  On our team at Princeton Summer Camp, I was the 2nd baseman. My throws to first base were exemplary.  I had an overhand throw that sent the ball to 1st like a bullet 3 feet off the ground. I was the Eddie Stanky of softball! (Stanky played 2nd base for the Dodgers in the 40’s).  

 Here I was, out in right field, feeling lonely and misused. Almost immediately, I decided to go home. So, quietly, I walked further out in right field to finally disappear.  I walked all the way from Randall Park to home. A day or two later, Roger told me that in the third inning, when I was due to bat, they couldn’t find me.  No one missed me!  Unless your Carl Furillo (Dodger right fielder), it’s a common fear- if you are playing right field and leave, no one will miss you.

 That year, the Police Athletic League (PAL) was beginning its softball team.  The PAL was not well organized in Freeport. In fact, it was not well organized anywhere outside New York City.  Joe Romeika, a cop assigned to help get Freeport boys involved in sports, suggested I join the older boys on a PAL team.  Joe was a terrific guy, who I had met earlier, at Randall Park, when we played hardball.  Believe it or not, in hardball, I was either a shortstop or a catcher.  Anyway, Joe Romeika suggested my move to the PAL team right after I shared with him my right field experience.    Even though I looked 10, I reminded Joe of how old I was, and that I would catch for the PAL team.  Actually, playing with those guys was quite a few steps up for me.  Needless to say, I was a good catcher.  I fashioned myself as the next Mickey Owen, another Brooklyn Dodger.

 Just at the time I joined the team, Joe had decided we needed uniforms.  To pay for the uniforms, we had a lottery to win a TV console with an AM-FM radio and a phonograph record player.  Over the next two weeks, each of us on the team were selling one dollar chances to win that big prize. I got busy selling!  I can’t remember how many chances were in each book of chances, but I went door-to-door, ending up selling 66 chance books.  My efforts just about paid for uniforms for half the team. Joe Romeika was super grateful, and proud of me.  He then asked me if I would like to attend a Dodger game and appear on television on Happy Felton’s Knothole Gang.

 Prior to every Dodger home game, along with the game, WOR-TV Channel 9, broadcasted live, from Ebbets Field, “Happy Felton’s Knothole Gang”.  As hundreds of thousands of baseball fans tuned in, three of us from the PAL got to throw a baseball with a Dodger, then compete against each other for a chance to attend another game while sitting in the Dodger Dugout.

 As my family, cousins and all, were glued to the TV, Renzi Lamb, some other kid, and I were on the screen throwing a ball with Jim Russell, a Dodger outfielder. Happy Felton asked each of us a few questions, and finally, the competition.  No, I did not win.  Renzi won.  He would return to Ebbets Field the next Day.  This may seem like sour grapes…I was a catcher, not an outfielder, Renzi’s uncle was Harold Parrott, the traveling secretary for the Dodgers, and finally, the lower part of the right field wall actually is angled at least 45 degrees from the ground and the upper part of the wall is perpendicular to the ground. When Jim Russell practiced with us, he threw balls off the upper part of the wall. We would play the ball off the wall and throw it back to Russell.  While playing ball with me during the competition, which was televised,

he threw the ball toward the lower part of the wall causing the ball to bounce further away from me than I expected.  Just as Happy Felton was telling the TV audience about what hustlers we kids were, I was sadly moping for the ball in disgust.  My family said that as soon as they realized I was not a hustler, the TV went to a brief commercial.  I think they were kidding me, but I certainly put myself out of the competition. Perhaps if that competition was done behind home plate or if one of my uncles worked for the Dodgers, things would have turned out differently. Like I said, no sour grapes.

 The other thing that I was thinking about was 7th grade.  Many things stand out in my mind. The first is Mrs. Carpenter, my homeroom teacher for the first half of the year.  I think she taught English, but I never was in one of her classes. I can’t tell you the measure of her contribution to my survival. Believe it or not, I would go to school early just so I could spend time with her.  She talked with me, had me help her with small tasks, and simply let me know I was someone she cared about.  Maybe she was my homeroom teacher the whole year, but somehow I think she was gone the second half of that year.  

 Then, I had Mr. Acerno for math.  He was a superb person with a great sense of humor.  At the end of the year, he had me help him with administering the Final Exam. I got A’s from start to finish.  Administering the final was a special treat.  The other kids would know I was the smartest kid in our math class.  Also, some of the smartest kids in 7th grade were in that class.  

 If you remember that lady, across the street from us, who made the bouquet of roses for my mother, then you know where Mr. Acerno’s fiancée lived.  She was that lady’s daughter.  Occasionally, we would see him visit her.  Doing his patriotic duty, he joined the Army to fight in Korea.  To my disbelief, he was killed in battle. I wish I could remember his fiancée’s name.  I did go visit her and her mom to say how sorry I was.

 Then there was one morning, near the end of the year, when I stopped to see Mr. Southard, the Principal of the Junior High School.  I liked Mr. Southard a lot.  He soon became Principal of the High School.  His daughter Janet was a classmate of mine. She was just about one of the prettiest girls, ever!  I never got to know her well, but we said hello.  She didn’t know this, but one day at Jones Beach, she was standing right by my blanket in her bathing suit, and my eyes were glue to her legs up by the bottom of her bathing suit, with my imagination going wild.  It was fortunate I was lying on my stomach.

 When I stopped into Mr. Southard’s Office, no one was there. The secretary must have gone somewhere, and I could see his empty office through his open door.  As I sat waiting, I looked on the secretary’s desk and right on top of the desk was the pile of Mr. Case’s Social Studies Final Exam that we were to face in a day or two.  Again, with quickness of action, I grabbed an exam, folded it, and pocketed it. I left the office in due haste.  Before noon, I had secretly shown my find to, at least, ten of my friends, most of whom were top students.  Naturally, they all took a good look at it, and we planned to look at it after school. When I went home at lunchtime, I told Al what was going down.  Al strongly suggested I turn myself in because someone is bound to rat on me. He said I shouldn’t have told anyone.

 So after lunch, I went to see Mr. Southard, and told him what I did.  I apologized and told him I deserved any punishment he thought to give me. At his request, I also gave him the names of all the other cheaters.  The next scene was Mr. Southard reprimanding lots of the top students. His talk to them included my honesty in coming to him.  He was very proud of me, and disappointed in them.

 So I came out of 7th grade with fairly good grades and with my future high school Principal having enormous trust in me.  I wish he would have said to me, please date my daughter, Janet!

[universallybouquetdragonme]

Mistakes You’ll Never Make Again

“CONGRATULATIONS….   Riya” Riya was enjoying the attention and appreciation she was receiving. Her hard work bore fruits. She stood first in her annual exams for class 9.The urge to share this news with someone special engulfed her. Her enchanting green eyes were glued to the school main gate. Dehradun is famous for its scenic grandeur and its beautiful surroundings. The nature’s beauty around her did not fill the emptiness of missing that someone special. Riya stood there with her sullen face. She was in her school dress and her skirt was smeared with grease. Above her head a red board was hanging where it had been boldly written - Dehradun Convent School For Girls’. Riya’s family was her brother Chetan .He was not only a brother to her, he was Riya’s parent. Riya was parentless since her birth and all the responsibilities of Riya were performed by Chetan. Chetan took care of his responsibilities beautifully .

On his way to the school Chetan kept thinking of how his sister would look after 2 yrs. It was 2 yrs since he had seen her. He was curious about Riya’s result. Chetan could only imagine Riya for the similarity she had with their mother. What a relief it was to see the school gate. But, where is Riya?

Chetan searched frantically to find her in front of an ice cream parlor. Rapidly, Chetan was trying to cross the road to reach her. Riya’s face had the same fair complexion and pink glow on her face like their mother. Dimples made her face brighter as she smiled. By this time, Riya had already seen Chetan crossing the road. But with the bat of an eyelid, a bus hit Chetan, a heart wrenching sound broke off the silence and drew the attention of a huge crowd. Riya got perplexed, her entire body shivered and she could not move on anymore. The sound of that accident was echoing around her. She felt no strength in her body to walk to that spot.

She gathered strength and reached the spot to see her brother in a pool of blood.  She could not recall anything more thereafter. She had lost her consciousness after this…Though Chetan’s life was saved; one of his legs was permanently amputated.

We haven’t thought yet what would be Riya’s future…if Chetan wouldn’t have survived? Chetan had made a will even at this early age. He even mentioned in the Will that all the interests from the fund specified in his Testament, will go to for the expenditure of Riya’s education. He appointed a guardian also for his minor sister. If he did not make a Will in favor of Riya, Riya would not be able to lead a good life as the said property would have to be distributed in accordance with law.

Chetan had seen the sufferings of his uncle’s family though his uncle had lot of properties and he took the decision that he will not continue the same mistake in his life. This thing can happen with any one of our society.. Chetan always believed on one proverb – “Man proposes and God disposes” and it is true that we can only make plans as we want but GOD determines how things will turn out.

No one knows their death date, it is a great personal practice to stay engaged in your priorities. I would like to suggest that waking up each morning and asking yourself that how I would show up today if this day was my last is not some cheesy motivational exercise. It’s a profound way to bring some urgency and commitment into your days. Most of us let life act on us – we are asleep at the wheel of our own lives. And the days slip into weeks, the weeks into months and the months into years. Before we know it, we are laying on our deathbeds wondering where all the time went. So make your Will without any hesitation.

To get help or to get hassle free services or to know more about WILL, please visit www.dilsewill.com

Thanking You.

Wishing you a long and healthy life.

We celebrate your success in life .

Let’s add the awesomeness in our lives.

Author: Shreya Nandi (Legal Executive Officer)

[livingbutamireally]

AY2019/2020 Y1S1 Module Review

AY2019/2020 year 1 semester 1 review

Started school around august after orientation camp in july, and had to study after doing nothing for months after a levels and finally had the taste of the rigour of this major.. semester 1 went by too quickly..

Modules taken this semester:

CS1010S

MA1101R

MA1521

BT1101

GER1000

CS1010S Programming Methodology (Python)

Prof: Ben Leong

Exam Dates: 2 Oct (Midterm) / 16 Nov (Practical Exam) / 27 Nov (Finals)

Weightage:

Coursemology – 25% (25%)

Participation – 5% (5%)

Midterm test – 15% (-)

Practical exam – 15% (20%)

Final assessment – 40% (50%)

(those in brackets are for those taking alternative final)

S in CS1010S is for science students, most students are either science students (DSA/ Life Science plenty) or BZA students.

Overall this module easily had the highest workload compared to other modules, having to rush missions every week, complete tutorials (this is pretty standard duh) and lecture trainings before deadlines for bonus points on a gamified platform. One could sit at their table wracking their brains for the whole day and still not be able to come up with a feasible code, or have their codes stuck with some bugs and not knowing how to continue. Really, without the help from fellow friends this module would be hard to get through. Luckily my TA was kind (and patient!) enough to explain such that my brain could get it. Ended up having to IP this module sadly… This module really requires your wholehearted devotion and really tests your patience i must say, especially for people who are not too intellectually inclined (aka me)..

They introduced a new scheme this semester aka Alternative Final, meaning you get to retake your midterm and finals by tabao-ing it into the next sem except you do your finals during the recess week instead of the finals, kinda like a half-retaking a module? Your grades for finals are IP-ed (in progress) rather than letter grades and the finals and midterms will be accounted for in the following half a semester albeit under different weightage components.

They said its a introductory module, but …………..

This year’s practical exam was particularly hard i think i had friends (even the zai ones) getting single digit marks… banked full in on the Method of Life question (Q5) of finals which is a giveaway question asking you how you can apply the concepts to other parts of your life and your main take-aways from taking this module (filled up the whole page and got full marks for it 4m) without this question i would have failed the paper..

Now i have to work hard the next sem… its kinda sad for us BZA students because CS1010S is a prerequisite for those wanting to take BT2101 and CS2030/2040 modules in the following semester (y1s2). Future students (esp BZA) please take the advice to consider this when deciding whether to IP…. because guess who didnt and regretted not thinking deeper…..

Ah one more thing to take note is the weightage is quite different for those IP/ alternative final people, theres higher weightage for the papers :_D

Ben Leong is a pretty good lecturer, hes solid in delivering concepts except my brain may be a little too slow for him.. Theres also lecture videos online that you can refer to and thousands of papers (with solutions!!) waiting for you to do.. something uncommon for many modules i heard? also, you get to see your final (scanned) paper through a website, in ben leong’s words “how cool is that?” he also uploads the mark scheme for your reference which is pretty cool imo. He’s a very interesting lecturer.

MA1521 Calculus for Computing

Prof: Leung Pui Fai

Exams: No midterms, just an online quiz (4 questions, most get full marks for), and the finals

Weightage: cant really rmb the weightage but i think its 40-60? i think tutorial attendance isnt graded..

They said this was just a repeat of H2 maths with more stuffs well boy i must say this wasnt as easy as they said.. okay maybe for me, ive always struggled with maths for a really long time. Surprisingly got a B for H2 Maths, i got a B3 for O levels really the blemish in my results. Got a B- for this module. Many people will say this is an easy module, you can trust them a little different in my shoes i guess. I didnt turn up for lectures for the half part of the semester since he talks a bit too slowly so i just watch the webcast sped up. But being a procrastinator i’m really behind on webcasts by the time the exams came.. i think i spent too much time on CS1010S and its still not enough.. if you dont have the discipline to watch them religiously at home, i would suggest you go for the lecture even though he may talk abit slowly but it forces you to not miss out on them. I dont really had the time (is it i wonder?) to do the tutorials either so i was also behind on them.. most of the time i just sat for tutorials and took the answers down to only work on them many weeks later (much regrets) so i didnt really understood what was going on as the TA went through. please dont be like me… the recess week was for sure not enough to revise/ learn all the content for all your mods for both midterms/finals so please dont be lazy like me…. this is the suffering i brought upon myself TT

Overall i think. it is not that hard a mod if you do your work consistently.. things got a little confusing towards the end i heard they dropped a whole chapter this semester glad they did.

MA1101R Linear Algebra I

Prof: Wang Fei

Weightage:

Finals (28 Nov, 2h)— 60%.

Mid-term test (4 Oct, 2h)— 20%.

3 homework assignments (4% per assignment) — 12%. 

An in-class Lab (MATLAB) quiz — 8%.

This was one of my most hardest period in my life and i say this on PERIODT. As if maths wasnt tough enough, this will really declare a survival of the fittest among your remaining brain cells. Friends told me maths came into their dreams… pls extinguish my soul. You must be thinking i am crazy for wanting to take 2 math mods in a sem right? ?

Yeahh no one really does that but it was my idea because i didnt want to do maths together with all the core core mods (BT and CS) next sem so i decided ah i should just get maths over and done with ( hAH real joke bc i couldnt clear CS1010S and i cant take 2k level mods for BT and CS and unlocked clown outfit because theres one more ST2334 core mod that involves probability and stats so much for thinking i will be over and done with for dealing with maths– someone tell me why did i choose this major again?)

Somehow along the way i realised the bell curve for this was surprisingly high i think those who chose this mod intend to delve even deeper in mathematics, mayhaps i joined the wrong major. The R in MA1101R actually stands for rigorous i didnt realise until my friend read the fine prints in the SOC Course Curriculum for BZA or sumn. Pure hell. There are 3 homework assignments (graded mind you) and most of the students get around 50++/60 i think i was the one of the rare few who flunked quite badly and always eyeballed by my TA (who is a prof for some 3k or 4k level maths, not for this mod though). I approached him for consults and for help and he was nice enough to sit me down and explain slowly. He’s pretty good at explaining slowly although he’s pretty fast in class (and most of the semester i had close to ZERO idea what was going on in class for pretty much most of the mods). Shockingly managed to pull out a C from my butt. The intellect of the students are no joke.. Homework assignments are every 3 weeks starting week 6 i think (so week 6, 9, 12) and i think are there to make sure you catch up with the work.

Oh lectures-wise, i sat for ½ of his classes, i really absorb almost nothing.. the rest of the lecture hall seem to get it though or so it seems. so i stopped attending my own lectures to watch the webcast for Prof Victor Tan too. His webcasts/lectures are really popular and it really owe it to his teaching, apparently he taught Wang Fei before and of course had over ten more years of experience. WF’s lecture turn-outs are comparatively less compared to VT. And on panopto (webcast platform) i think it was almost always 360++ views for VT as compared to a 80++/ was it 30++ for WF if i recall correctly. VT slides are also more concise and simple to understand where as WF’s ones are similar to the textbook. You are also required to purchase a textbook for this module costs around $20 from the co-op store in science and i urge you to purchase it asap when the profs announce they are made available bc they run oos quite fast.. the tutorial questions are from the textbook and the textbook is very simple and straightforward and put together by some of the lecturers/profs in school.

BT1101 Introduction to Business Analytics

Prof: Dr Sharon Tan, Desmond Ong

Weightage:

1. Online Quiz & Datacamp Assignments — 7%

Tutorial 1-4 — 8%

Tutorial 5 onwards — 15%

In-class Assessment (Written) — 10%

Practical Assessment — 20%

Final Assessment — 40%

In class assessment is held 2ish weeks after your midterms week so its kinda like your midterms?

Mm i would say this module is the most ?? its hard to put in words but if you read up the confessions page (NUSwhispers) regularly you would see many complaints that the mod is structured not as neatly as CS1010S its quite here and there everywhere and personal opinion, sometimes i dont know what i am supposed to learn but i guess its like that? The profs seem to value not wanting to spoonfeed and us learning on our own and stuff like that. I heard the mod was much harder in previous years and they simplified it a lot compared to in the past (which i really thank god) but its still a bit ?? They split it into two halves, first half of the sem is taught by Dr ST (Descriptive Analytics) and the next half by DO (Prescriptive and Predictive Analytics).

There are online videos to be watched every week even though you get lectures once every 2 weeks when Dr ST teaches and tutorials to be submitted to your TAs that are graded only after about 6/7 weeks. They leave comments (½ sentences someitmes shorter) and your marks received and thats about all so you dont really know where you went wrong since they are not marked paper and pen way. The tutorials are coding exercises for questions using the R language. They also used Datacamp to drill some of the basics of R for a headstart. Her workshop style lectures are a lot of on the spot learning how to code and stuff which i lag behind a bit because she goes a bit fast in order to cover everything. We learn new content via the online videos that we have to watch every week and theres quizzes for them too weekly iirc.

The next half by DO had no online videos (great!! and no quizzes!!) but weekly lectures and graded tutorials are due every 2 weeks(!!). There are still weekly tutorials but its only graded for every 2nd one, wow this saved me a lot of time phew. I didnt get to do the tutorials for those that are not graded but read through the questions so that i get a gist of whats going on, and somehow i really dont have the time to do it? CS1010S really absorbed a large chunk of my time cries. Finals was a oK it was not that bad i think. There are 20 MCQs and then about 4 structured questions? Closed-book with 1 A4 sheet cheatsheet.

Oh and the bad part about the tutorials are the tutors wont provide you with the model answers/codes so you’re really just on your own. You either get it or nah. :_D

GER1000 Quantitative Reasoning

Weightage:

1. Tutorial — 10%

2. 10 Weekly Quizzes — 20%

3. Project —35% (Presentation 10%, Final Report 25%)

4. Finals (28 MCQs, 2h) — 35%

No lectures so no profs, just weekly online videos and quizzes.

Tutorials are every odd/even weeks depending on the slot you chose.

Groups are arranged by the TAs beforehand.

This was pre-allocated for us so (grits teeth). Honestly a waste of time. One of the mods i neglected till the end to focus on other mods (which was worth it). The workload was manageable, of course (if not how to neglect). Every 2 week you meet together wiht your groupmates to discuss tutorial questions (each group will discuss 1 qn) and every tutorial class ended about 30min earlier. Nearing the end theres a group project report and slides to be done. Report is in the form of QnA so you just answer the questions and slides/ presentation is going through an article of a topic you chose (theres about 10) and you analyse the QR part of it what is good what can be better, etc. Theres also a bit of the stats part with probability and stuff but its a OK. Bell curve steep for finals (40 MCQ, 2h) but most finished in 1h and left the hall, i was one of the few who stayed till the end even though i was just staring at the paper into the depths of my soul for reasons unknown) It’s a lot about experiments not really the scientific/ calculations part of it but understanding about coming up with experiments, the pros and cons of carrying things out a certain way in loose terms something like the art of crafting experiments? makes you think a bit deeper how and what people think and not so dry i guess.

Epilogue

i guess thats a wrap–new semester starts soon :( i think this might be the first module/semester review tumblr blog but i hope this can be of help to anyone, to anyone at all. the owner of many of similar review blogs get really stellar results which i may be too out of league from so i hope this brings comforts to those who are doing not so well and encourage them because im not any different we exist, and we’ll survive.

CARPE DIEM 2020 LETS GEDDIT