#student accommodation in cambridge

[universalstudenthomes20]

Cambridge Student Housing Market: Navigating the Postgraduate Market

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[studentaccommodationinuk]

The Quest for Ideal Roommates: Student Accommodation in Cambridge

Embark on a successful search for the right roommates in Cambridge student accommodation using our valuable tips.

[tracydowney]

https://handyclassified.com/how-to-manage-my-finance-as-a-university-student

Discover practical tips for managing your finances as a university student. Learn budgeting, saving, and smart spending strategies to stay financially secure.

[housemates1]

Book student accommodation in Cambridge with Housemates. Explore the best student housing options, student rooms, and apartments near most of the universities in Cambridge. No hidden fees. Student moves, made smooth.

[a-study-in-dante]

Anyone studying and staying / who studied and stayed in Pembroke College (Cambridge) who has experience to share regarding college accommodation? I have to decide if I want to stay in on-site rooms or in hostels and I could use some advice. Thanks!

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

The Golden Ratio - Part One

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Derogatory language, angst, mentions of parental death, mentions of infidelity. Word count: ~4.5k

Chapter summary: Her relationship strains under the pressure of long distance, though she has her classmate, Michael, to help distract from the worst of it. Series masterlist.

Author's note: For @assortedseaglass. No tag list. Please follow @ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She is sweaty and exasperated as she drags her suitcase over the cobbles of Holywell Street. One of the already precariously wonky wheels had finally given up the ghost and broken off as she’d dragged it up the stairs of Oxford train station, making the fifteen minute walk to her accommodation more tiring than it needed to be.

But she was here, finally. Oxford University.

Her dad had sold the car to make sure she had money to live on until her student loan and maintenance grant had been paid to her. He didn’t want her taking a part time job to make ends meet, she’d worked hard to earn her place here, her focus should be on her studies. Coming from a low income family meant she had qualified for the maximum amount for both maintenance loan and grant, but her first set of application forms had been misplaced by Student Finance, so she’d had to send in a second set, meaning there would be a delay with her first payment.

An unfortunate consequence of her dad not having a car is that she’d had to get the train to London Victoria, a tube to Paddington, then another train to Oxford. But it is not the fact that she is seemingly the only student whose parents aren’t obstructing the pavements with their cars in order to drop them off that makes her feel like an outcast, there is something deeper, more sinister feeling.

She sees it as she struggles to get her bag across the lawn of the Halls, people grouped in little clusters, as though they’ve been friends forever. They dress in Juicy Couture velour tracksuit bottoms and brand name Ugg Boots, while she wears her mum’s old Dr. Martens and a tartan skirt she’d bought in a charity shop for one pound fifty. She doesn’t fit in. She feels she may as well wear the word “poor” across her forehead like a scarlet letter.

Having checked in at the Porters’ Lodge and been given directions to the accommodation, it’s lonely as she unpacks her things, her room feeling empty and quiet. The only sounds are muffled talking and laughter coming through the closed window from outside. She feels lonelier still when she pulls out the framed photo of her and Rich. They’re both smiling, his arms wrapped around her waist as she leans her head against his. It had felt like their relationship would last forever when that picture was taken. That seemed like much less of a possibility over the last couple of weeks.

She had met Rich at the beginning of sixth form. Having attended Chatham Grammar School for Girls, she had decided to stay on there to do her A levels. The mathematics department was decent, and she had heard Russell Group universities were more likely to consider applications that came from grammar schools. Rich had transferred over from Robert Napier School. Where she was shy, quiet and reserved, he was lively, outgoing and sociable. His zest for life had shone a bright light on an existence that was, for her, otherwise dull and grey.

They were an unlikely pairing. She was logical, analytical and studied maths and physics. Rich was creative, free spirited and guided by emotion. He studied art and music. They had been together for two years and she had thought he was the one. But then it came time for UCAS applications, and where she had applied to Oxford, Cambridge and York, Rich had applied to Leeds, Brighton and Glasgow. It seemed that no matter where they were accepted, they were destined to be apart.

When she had received an unconditional offer from Oxford she had been elated, however, the crushing devastation upon hearing Rich had been accepted into The Glasgow School of Art with a conditional offer had quickly dulled her excitement.

She had never felt like an outsider or a loner when she was with Rich. Basking in his sunny disposition had felt effortless, she never felt alone. He was going to take all of that away, and she was unsure of how to cope with it.

“We’ll make it work long distance, don’t worry,” he’d told her, and she’d believed him.

But then he had actually gone to Glasgow. Fresher’s week in Glasgow started a week earlier than it did in Oxford, so Rich had moved away first. It didn’t take long for the texts and phone calls to dry up into nothing. She had heard from him once in the last few days.

She sighs as she slides up the screen of her beaten up Nokia. Still nothing. She had text to let him know she was leaving for Oxford today and he couldn’t even be bothered to reply. She knows it’s his first week at university and he’s likely busy and having fun, but how was long distance going to work if they never actually spoke to each other?

Despite the loftiness of the dining hall, it feels stuffy as she moves through it later that evening, taking a seat at a long table crowded with other students. She had hoped that the Fresher’s welcome dinner would be an opportunity to make friends, but everyone seems to be deep in conversation already. The chatter hums loudly like white noise, until it comes to a sudden stop.

“FUCKIN’ ASK ME A SUM THEN!”

She turns, mouth agape, to look at the pair of boys sitting a few places up from her. One is darked haired and seems nervous and uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly in his seat. The other is blonde, an angry, intense expression on his face, shadows cast across it from the lamplight on the table, as he stares in wide eyed anticipation. It was him who had shouted, clearly.

“Four hundred and twenty three times seventy eight,” the dark haired boy asks quietly.

Instantly his friend replies, without missing a beat, “thirty two thousand, nine hundred and ninety four.”

Involuntarily her eyes widen in surprise. She sits there and does the calculation in her head, though much more slowly than he had. 

Carry the two, eight times two is sixteen, plus two is eighteen, carry the one…he’s right. How is it possible that he came to that answer so quickly?

When her gaze lifts he is looking at her, observing her doing the working out in her head. He holds her stare, a smirk curving the corners of his mouth. He knows she knows he is right, and it’s clear he feels smug about it.

Quickly looking away, she reaches for her water glass, wanting something, anything, to distract her. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel uneasy.

God, I hope I don’t have any classes with him.

She holds her timetable for the week in her hands as she moves her way through the corridors towards the lecture hall the following morning. The first week looks to be fairly light touch, with an introductory lecture for each of the courses; algebra, analysis, probability and statistics, geometry, dynamics and multivariable calculus. Today is the introduction to analysis, and she is excited to study under the tutelage of Professor Helen Byrne. Her research focuses on the development and analysis of mathematical and computational models that describe biomedical systems, with particular application to the growth and treatment of solid tumours, wound healing and tissue engineering. Professor Byrne is someone she has admired within the field for as long as she can remember, and she is very much looking forward to her tutorials with her.

Her excitement fades when she enters the lecture hall and immediately sees the angry guy from the previous evening.

Just my luck.

The only available seat is next to him, so she sits down, dropping her bag to the floor by her feet.

A hand extends out towards her in her peripheral vision, taking her by surprise and she turns in her seat towards it, shrinking back slightly. 

He seems utterly unperturbed by her reaction, keeping his arm extended. “I’m Michael Gavey.”

She blinks, regaining her composure as she leans forward, shaking his hand and introducing herself in return. His palm is clammy against her own, and she can still feel it there even after having let go and wiped her hand on her jeans.

“I saw you last night,” he says matter of factly, pulling his arm back and resting his elbow on the desk in front of him.

“Oh, yeah,” she says with a tight smile, nodding, “so you and your mate…is that like a party trick or something?”

“No, no party trick,” he says with a demure smile. “I’m a genius.”

She forces herself to laugh politely, assuming he’s making a joke, but she stops, her brow furrowing slightly when she sees he doesn’t share in the humour. He’s being serious.

Opening her mouth to ask a follow up question, she’s interrupted as Professor Byrne sweeps into the room. Her and Michael both face forward in their seats as she introduces herself to the class.

Over the next hour they are given an introduction to the course and what to expect in their first year, including an overview of the papers they will need to write and examinations that will be sat. She pays rapt attention, scribbling furious notes, until the lecture begins to wrap up.

“As it’s the first week, I will go easy on assignment setting,” Professor Byrne tells them all, “but there will be an assignment nonetheless.”

A loud, collective groan echoes around the lecture hall. Her and Michael are the only two not to join in.

“Now, now, settle down,” she chastises, “it’ll be fun. I’m sure you’re all aware of the Fibonacci Sequence, a series of numbers where each number is the sum of the two preceding numbers. Mathematically we can describe this as–”

She turns and scrawls xn= xn-1 + xn-2 on the chalkboard, before facing the students again.

“--I’d like you all to find an example of the Fibonacci Sequence in real life and present it back to the class during next week’s lecture. You’re to work in pairs, so buddy up, and see you all next week.”

Professor Byrne places the chalk back on the desk before striding back out of the lecture hall. The room is instantly a buzz with chatter, as people move between seats to find a partner.

She stays rooted in place, suddenly wishing Rich was here. It’s in moments like these that he flourishes, allowing her to take a backseat as he effortlessly navigates them through social interactions. Instead, she is alone and the space around her feels bigger and scarier with every moment that passes.

It’s only when she turns her head that she notices Michael has yet to move too. Gathering all the courage she can muster, she clears her throat and speaks to him.

“So…er…did you wanna partner up for this thing then?”

“I don’t like to work with others,” he says matter of factly, keeping his gaze fixed ahead.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about it either,” she says with a sigh, “but for this assignment we have to.”

“You’ve picked me because I’m a genius. You’ll expect me to do all the work while you get pissed with your mates.”

He fixes her with an accusatory stare, and she feels the heat of anger prickle her skin.

“Haven’t got any mates,” she mutters darkly.

He observes her for a few moments, elbow propped on the desk, jaw resting against his fist, and she fidgets self consciously in her seat. No wonder the other boy from last night had looked so uncomfortable. It feels like he’s studying her.

“Let’s go to the library,” he says simply, standing and picking up his bag.

“So, you’re a genius?” She asks, opening her notebook once they’re seated opposite each other at a table in the library, nervously tapping her pencil against the page.

“Hmm,” Michael nods, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger, “I don’t even like maths, really. I can just…do it. Anything. In my head.”

She’s struck by how blunt he is, sucking in a breath as she considers what to say next. There is something so disarming about him, she gets the sense he’s analysing her every word and action.

“Right,” she begins, “so, er, for this assignment I was thinking about how Leonardo Fibonacci used rabbits to prove his theory. One hundred and forty four pairs of rabbits can be produced from a single pair of rabbits in a year, based on the sequence.”

“That’s fucking stupid,” Michael replies with a sigh.

“What?” She asks irritably, annoyed by his dismissal.

“What are you expecting us to do, go to a pet shop and buy rabbits? We’ve only got a week to do the assignment, we need to be more practical.”

She rolls her eyes. “I was using that as an example, not saying we do that exactly! Come on then, genius, what’s your suggestion?”

“Spirals,” he says with a slight shrug. He leans across, placing the tips of his fingers on her notebook and sliding it towards himself, before picking up her pencil. “There is a special relationship between the Fibonacci numbers and the Golden Ratio, a ration that describes when a line is divided into two parts and the longer part - A - divided by the smaller part - B - is equal to the sum of A + B divided by A, which both equal one point six one eight. This is represented by the Greek letter,” he stops to scribble a φ on the pad. “The ratio of any two successive Fibonacci Numbers approximates the Golden Ratio value.” He stops again, scrawling 1.6180339887 on the page. The bigger the pair of Fibonacci numbers, the closer the approximation. From there, we can calculate what's called the golden spiral, or a logarithmic spiral whose growth factor equals the golden ratio.”

She is stunned into a silence for a moment, a combination of his audacity to simply take her belongings, and awe at the rapidity with which his mind works. Collecting herself, she blinks a few times, looking up into his eyes.

They’re so blue.

“So…er…how do you propose we present this data back to the class?”

“A simple table is sufficient, look–”

His hand moves rapidly over the page, a complete table there on the paper when he drops the pencil into the gutter of the notebook and sits back in his chair.

“We present that,” he tells her, his eyes fixed on the page. “Using the values of the sequence as the edge length of squares arranged in the table, a spiral is generated.”

She leans over, sliding the notebook back to her side of the table, marvelling silently at his work. He is fascinating to watch. He’s right, he can just do maths.

“It’s good,” she says, eye flitting up to meet his, “solid. But it’s fucking boring.”

This time it’s his turn to be annoyed. “What?” He asks, eyes narrowing.

“Everyone is going to present something like this, because it’s easy,” she explains, “Don’t you want to stand out to Professor Byrne? We should do something outside of the box.”

“Hmm. Go on then, what are you thinking?” He rests his cheek against his fist, leaning against the table as he stares at her.

She feels herself grow warm under his scrutiny.

Does he always have to be so bloody intense?

“There are loads of examples of Fibonacci numbers appearing in nature. We could look for some? Flowers, perhaps.”

“I’ve got hayfever,” Michael states simply.

She sighs.

Of course you do.

“Then we’ll get you some Piriton! Come on, there are studies that show seed heads, pinecones, fruits and vegetables all displaying spiral patterns that when counted express Fibonacci numbers. This fits perfectly with the brief of the assignment and will leave a lasting impression.”

He moves his hand away from his face, resting his arm flat on the table and quietly drumming his fingers against it for a few moments. “Alright then,” he finally concedes.

“Great,” she grins excitedly, tearing out a page from her notebook and writing on it hurriedly. “Here’s my number, so we can meet up to work on it, and also my Hotmail address, in case MSN works better for you.”

He huffs through his nose as he takes the paper from her, a soft laugh escaping him. “The countess at hotmail dot co dot uk,” he reads with amusement, “very droll.”

“Shut up,” she grins back, “I made that in secondary school. Thought it was funny.”

Back in her room that evening, she’s excited to see she has a text from Rich, finally.

Hope ur enjoying it. Having so much fun here!

She sighs, throwing her phone down on the bed side table. No kisses, not even an “I love you”. 

Watching out of the window, she sees the giggling groups of students making their way out into town, readying themselves to spend the night drinking, making friends and having fun. Just like Rich is doing, not giving her a second thought, while she stays cooped up in her room without a friend in the world.

Suspicion nags at her, so she turns on her laptop, loading up MySpace. Rich takes number one place on her top eight friends, and she clicks on his profile. It looks much the same as it always does, but she decides to snoop further, clicking into his friends list. She can see he has recently friended a girl named Sophie.

Sophie is pretty, bright pink streaks in her hair, and a nose ring. Exactly Rich’s type. Her most recently uploaded photos are of groups of people, clearly all taken during Fresher’s week. A pit forms in her stomach as she sees that in almost all of them Sophie and Rich have their arms around each other. Worse still, Rich occupies space eight in Sophie’s top friends.

She closes the browser, blinking back tears. Surely, she is just being paranoid. They’re just friends. Friends have photos together, and it was normal that he would make new ones when he went away to uni.

Opening MSN Messenger, she hovers over Rich’s username. Unsurprisingly, he’s offline, he always is these days. She smiles when an add request from mgavey628318@hotmail.co.uk pops up. Of course he’d have Tau, the mathematical constant, in his Hotmail address. She clicks accept and he immediately appears in her online contacts. Looks like he isn’t out tonight either.

Double clicking his username, she chuckles to herself upon seeing his display picture is of Pythagoras. Such a dweeb.

“Want to work on our assignment tomorrow?” She types to him.

Barely a few seconds pass before she sees him typing back. “Yes. When?”

“We could meet at the Water Meadow at lunch time?”

“See you then.”

Straight to the point, no idle chit chat. She shakes her head and closes the messenger window, though finds herself strangely excited by the thought of seeing him tomorrow. She reasons that it’s because Michael is the closest thing she has had to a friend since arriving at Oxford.

She visits the nearby Tesco Express the following day, buying a meal deal for each of them and a packet of hayfever tablets for Michael. She has no idea of what Michael even likes, so plays it safe by buying a bottle of Oasis, a Crunchie bar and a ham and cheese sandwich for them both.

At precisely noon, Michael stands at the entrance to the Water Meadow waiting for her. She smiles as she looks at his t-shirt; maroon with a diagram of a circle on a gradient with a downwards acceleration of 9.81 meters per second, with the slogan “that’s how I roll”. A mechanics pun.

“Like your shirt,” she says as she approaches him.

He grins. “Thought you might, considering your email address.”

She averts her gaze. There is something about the fact that he’d thought of her when he’d chosen what to wear today that makes her tummy flutter.

Stop it. You’ve got Rich. Michael’s weird!

“I got you some hayfever tablets,” she tells him as they start to walk along the pathway that’s flanked by green space on either side. “Do you wanna have lunch first and then start looking for flowers?”

They settle, cross legged on the grass, Michael already having taken one of the tablets, chased with half a bottle of Oasis, and she spreads out the food between them.

She watches in fascination as his eyes widen at the sight of the Crunchie bars, snatching one up and tearing off the wrapper. Her mouth falls open slightly as she sees him hold it sideways, biting into it from the side, before devouring each of the pieces it inevitably breaks into.

“You like Crunchie bars then?” She asks, a little grossed out, but curious nonetheless.

He swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Mother didn’t allow me to have sweets growing up, bad for your teeth, she said.”

She nods, a feeling over pity replacing the disgust that had roiled her stomach just seconds ago.

“So, is it your mum that pushed you into studying maths?” She asks, fiddling with the lid of her drink bottle.

“Sort of,” he says. “Mother never married, but she wanted a child. She used a sperm donor - a physicist, apparently - and was artificially inseminated to have me. She was thrilled when I showed a natural aptitude for maths, and has always encouraged me. It’s why I do it, why I accepted the scholarship, to make her proud. She’s been through so much to have me, it’s the least I owe her.”

Her face falls, a feeling of sadness overwhelming her, making her heart ache for Michael. There is something so tragic about the fact that he has lived his entire life adhering to the expectations of the person who had created him for their own selfish want of a child.

“What about you then?” He asks. “The bank of mummy and daddy paying for you to be here?”

She shakes her head. “I earned my place, just like you did, with straight As, though I don’t have a scholarship. Have had to take out loans to cover the cost. It’s just me and dad since mum passed away.”

“Oh,” Michael says, blinking rapidly, obviously surprised. “Apologies, I’d assumed a pretty girl like you would be the same as the rest of the vapid cunts studying here, if you can call it studying.”

She hums in acknowledgement, considering his words, turning her own Crunchie bar around in her fingers, focusing on the way the foil wrapper slides against her skin. His compliment makes her heart beat more rapidly, even if it is backhanded. “Like I said yesterday, I’ve got no mates. It was always Rich that was better at that sort of thing.”

“Rich?” Michael asks curiously, cocking his head.

“My boyfriend. He’s at uni in Glasgow.”

“Three hundred and sixty two point nine miles,” Michael states simply.

“Pardon?”

“That’s the distance between Oxford and Glasgow,” he explains, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “How are you planning to make a relationship work with that sort of distance?”

“We’re doing long distance,” she argues, feeling herself growing defensive, scowling at him.

“Yeah, I bet that’s gonna work out great,” he scoffs, eyes widening, clearly mocking her.

“The Glasgow School of Art was the best choice for Rich to study what he wants to,” she retorts.

A grin spreads across his face. “Art?! I suppose you should be grateful he’s hundreds of miles away then, he sounds like a moron.”

She huffs, hurriedly shoving her things back into her bag. “Let’s just look for these fucking flowers and get this over with.”

The pair work for the rest of the afternoon in silence, the atmosphere is tense and angry, but they are productive nevertheless, settling on a patch of sunflowers to use for the assignment.

They look at the spirals of seeds in the center of the sunflowers and observe patterns curving left and right. Counting these spirals, their total is a Fibonacci number. They then divide the spirals into those pointed left and right to get two consecutive Fibonacci numbers.

Cutting down a couple of sunflower heads to use as examples, Michael also makes a diagram in his notes for them to present with their findings.

She feels satisfied by the time they part ways, but an uneasy feeling has settled over her that has dread gnawing into her gut as she thinks about Michael’s criticism of her and Rich’s long distance relationship.

Unsurprised to see she has no missed calls or texts from him when she goes back to her room, she opens up her laptop and logs back onto MySpace. This time when she looks at Rich’s profile her blood runs cold as she sees that Sophie now occupies space number three in his top friends. He’d had time to log on and change the position of a girl he’d met a couple of weeks ago, but couldn’t be bothered to send her a single message?

Before she can stop herself, she’s pulling out her phone and calling his number. She doesn’t care if this wastes all of her credit, she needs answers.

It rings for ages, and she anticipates being sent to voicemail, until he eventually answers, sounding breathless and distracted.

“H-hello?”

“Rich, it’s me,” she says quietly.

There’s a pause before he answers. “Oh…how’s my little nerd? Everything okay?”

She ignores the familiarity, keeping her tone neutral. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me.”

Not giving him an opportunity to respond, she pushes on. “Has something happened between you and this Sophie girl I’ve seen you on Myspace with?”

Another pause, except this time she hears him inhale a deep breath. “I was going to tell you when we came home for Christmas break. It felt wrong to break up with you over the phone.”

It feels as though the bottom of her world has been ripped away, her heart twisting painfully as her vision blurs with tears. She swallows thickly, anger bubbling alongside her devastation, so that her tone is venomous when she replies “So, you were just gonna keep stringing me along for two months, so you could look like a good guy?!”

“Babe, no, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I just–”

“You’re a piece of shit,” she cuts him off, “fuck you!”

She hangs up, chucking her phone down onto the bed, and immediately bursts into tears, holding her head in her hands as hot tears stream down her face, her shoulders shaking as her nose grows snotty.

Two years. Two fucking years and he’d chucked it all away for someone he’d known for two weeks.

She walks towards the sink in her room, looking into the mirror and sighing at her reflection. Her eyes are red and puffy, she looks a mess. Splashing cold water onto her face to rid herself of the worst of it, she then flops down onto her bed, opening her laptop.

Immediately she is met with her MSN chat window with Michael from the previous evening. He’s online.

Without thinking, she types out a message to him.

“Do you have any alcohol?”

Within seconds he’s typing a response.

“Would you like me to have alcohol?”

[helaelaemond]

TIPS FOR WRITING IN AN ENGLISH UNIVERSITY SETTING from someone who’s been through it!

This post is written with fanfic in mind, specifically about Michael Gavey as a Maths student at the University of Oxford.

University structure

At Oxford, you are there typically for three years. You’re not usually referred to as “first year”, “second year” or “third year/final year” as nouns, and are more likely to describe yourself as being “in my first year” etc. The only exception is your first few weeks at uni when you’re known as a fresher. Your first week in your first year is known as “freshers week”, and its lots of social activities around the uni and beyond.

OXFORD IS NOT A CAMPUS UNI. University housing and buildings are scattered around the city of Oxford, and so using terms like “on campus” are not applicable.

Term starts in early October, and most exams are wrapped up by June.

Housing

Oxford is one of four English universities that use the college system (the others being Cambridge - also called ‘The Other Place’ - Durham, and York) and for the sake of simplicity, you can think of this as a replacement term for ‘dorm’ (a term not typically used). You can find a list of all the colleges on the university’s website.

Within the college building, there are usually single rooms with en-suites, but some rooms have to share a communal bathroom.

University students do NOT have roommates - no one shares a bedroom. There are also some room types in a flat-like set up, with a cluster of a few rooms (2-8 typically) and a shared kitchen. This is less common at Oxford.

Students sometimes stay in university-provided accommodation for the duration of their studies, whilst some choose to live in private accommodation from their second year onwards. If they do this, they are still associated with their college, and by default their college does not change. Private accommodation usually means a regular house shared with a few other people - this is standard across all universities in the UK, not just Oxford.

Classes

Generally speaking, subjects that don’t require lab work have a pretty simple weekly structure of one lecture and one seminar per module. Lectures are observed silently, and seminars are for discussions. Even the boldest or more socially unaware individuals do not interrupt lectures (in my four years, I never ever experienced anyone interrupting or asking a question, and so if you’re going to write Michael doing that, be aware it is a huge taboo unless the lecturer has asked for participation). Students usually take 2-3 different modules per semester, and during the academic year, there are two semesters across three terms.

Reading week is a week of usually in late October/early November where there are no classes for a week and it is a time for self-study.

Most modules have at least one assignment (what Americans would call a term paper) due before the Christmas break in December, and then at least one exam after the break ends in January. Some modules on some courses have other assignments or contributors to grades (like group presentations) but this isn’t all that common. It is very rare for things like “extra credit” to be earned, if at all.

Unless reading a combined degree (like Politics and Economics), you only take one subject. There is nothing like a “major” and “minor”. When doing a combined degree, you take half your modules on one degree, and half your modules on the other, so it’s an even 50/50. You cannot choose any subject to do a combined degree for, and they are pre-set courses determined by the university. For example, you couldn’t do a combined degree of Maths and Geography just because you wanted to.

You don’t talk about what course you’re studying, you say what course you’re reading (which is why Michael says he’s “reading Maths” not studying it).

University culture

Nightclubbing isn’t much of a thing in Oxford. If you want a uni with great nightlife you go to Birmingham, Nottingham, Sheffield, Newcastle, London - not Oxford or Cambridge. Instead, students are much more likely to spend time in one of the dozens of pubs in Oxford. College parties (I.e university accommodation parties) don’t tend to be much of a thing either unless they’re organised by the social events committees in those colleges.

Elitism is an enormous problem at Oxford. For example, in 2015, 45% of all freshers were from private schools, while only less than 7% of children in the UK are privately educated. Classism is an issue that is so unbelievably rampant in places like Oxford that I can’t even begin to explain. But like many forms of prejudice in the UK, it’s rarely overt. It comes in the forms of exclusion from social activities (think a working class student not being able to go on a ski trip with course mates), social rules only familiar to the rich being the order of the day (having the right type of suit for a formal dinner).

Oxford is a place where lifelong connections are made that spill into entertainment, business, and (most worryingly) politics, but best believe that if you’re not from the right background, those connections are not yours to make. In fact, the likelihood of you even know they’re going on in the shadows is high.

Obviously, classism and elitism are themes of Saltburn, but please don’t take them too seriously, as it’s crucial to remember that the writer/director grew up in these very private inner circles of elites. As such, her spin is wildly… wild. She’s an incredibly unreliable source for basing any kind of opinion about these issues on.

That’s all I can think of right now! I highly encourage other people who have been through English universities to add on with advice you think you would helpful to writers 😁🫶

And if you’ve got any specific questions, let me know and I’ll help if I can!

[autistpride]

Autism Acceptance

For @wolfstarmicrofic April prompts

April 12 prompt: College AU

Wordcount: 4650

Part 1

Dedicated to @mia-675 who sent the ask with the prompt idea

The university experience was overrated. Oh don't misunderstand! Remus was grateful to his parents for fighting for him, for advocating that he got all the tools he had needed to get him to this point.

For at one point taking the local primary school and local council to court and winning! His mum taking it upon herself to home educate him through to college. Then for Lyall, driving him two hours there and back everyday to the college that had helped ensure Remus got the education he not only craved but deserved. For staying up late and helping him study for entrance exams, for editing mock papers, and for pushing for accommodations when it came time for Remus to sit them. His mum was a fierce advocate when they tried to insist that Remus shouldn’t bother.

They were optimistic and hopeful, telling Remus that his scores were delayed because he did great and then cheering him on when he not only passed, but got offers for his choice in university. He had his pick, something unheard of for an autistic individual, especially one that was non speaking like he was. So many saw that information and immediately rejected applicants due to “lack of appropriate accommodations to meet the needs of SEN students.” It was just a polite way of saying they were ableist and elitist. But no one wanted to turn down a non speaking autistic individual with his marks. They all scrambled to have him enrolled through them, hoping to use his story as inspiration porn.

So when Remus picked University of Cambridge, his parents were surprised. They at first asked over and over if he was sure he didn’t want to pick something closer to them. That the University of Norwich was a great choice and only an hour away. Then they asked if he didn’t want to pick something better. That if he was going to go further away and go to university, if he didn’t want to go to go to a better choice. But Remus had thought about it and felt like this was the best place for him. He wanted to study psychology and it was rated second!

The other top choices were in London and Oxford and Remus really didn’t want to go to either of those places. Not that there was anything wrong with them, the cost of living in London was so much higher and the bigger city with the crowds and noise worried Remus. That and he was comfortable navigating Cambridge for the most part. They had gone weekly when he was growing up for therapies and then eventually quarterly for appointments. So he at least knew his way around the hospital, train station, and shopping area. He had also calculated that this was a good middle ground in regards to the cost of his schooling and living expenses. His parents finally gave their approval in the wake of his hour-long powerpoint presentation about it.

All that to say, now that Remus was here, he felt like it was overrated. All the extracurricular things, volunteering, clubs and fraternities, parties. Remus didn’t care for any of it. He was just there to get his education and leave. But some of his professors made that so challenging, stating that they needed these hands on life experiences to become informed and well rounded people. A lot of his professors at least attempted to work with Remus, many exchanging emails to ensure Remus was understanding and keeping up well enough. But there were a fair few who honestly seemed like their only purpose was to misunderstand. Then add in the long lectures and late nights studying and Remus was just exhausted. The line between doing okay and a burnout being used like a jump rope.

One such professor is what led to Remus spending all his freetime in the Haddon Library. Remus preferred it over the main library because it was quieter and more out of the way. There were many libraries in Cambridge and he could have chosen any of them, but something about this one called to him. Sure it didn’t have all of the books he needed, but he would just check them out and bring them with when necessary and it just so happened to also be down the street from the psychology building. It also was near to the museums of zoology, archaeology, history of science, and earth sciences which allowed Remus the ability time to binge a little on his other interests.

Remus had procured a table in a corner that was fairly secluded, two stacks of books making it feel enclosed. The massive window that overlooked the courtyard below and a radiator kept the area well lit and toasty in the drizzling chilly autumn which allowed Remus to actually remove his beanie, scarf, and fingerless gloves. When he was there all day, he even went so far as to take off his sweater, revealing his well worn graphic tees underneath, as he furiously took notes from the mountains of books piled around.

—--

Sirius was starting over with his degree, previously studying law at his parents' demand. But after months of lectures that Sirius hated every second of, his room mate and best friend James had convinced him to speak with someone about switching. His change of majors without their consent or approval, especially to one that wasn’t on their approved list of majors, was the final straw with his parents. They disinherited Sirius. After a week of anger at them, Sirius spiralled and if it hadn’t been for James and Lily he would have crawled back to them begging for their forgiveness. The university had been understanding and with some help, set Sirius up on the path he was now on.

Sirius studied archaeology and volunteered part time at the Archeology and Anthropology Museum next to his department. Although sometimes he would work at the Museum of Classical Archaeology. His volunteer work helped cover some of his education costs, free labour in exchange for a discount. He also worked at the Cafe Au Chocolat all day on the weekends to help pay for his expenses. Sirius pretended like he didn’t notice the fact that every so often, a donation would be made to pay down his education expenses, but he knew that it came from the Potter family. James’ parents had practically become his own when they were in secondary school and when his parents finally cut him off and kicked him out of the family, they welcomed him with open arms.

Sirius had studied in many places, mostly cafes, but his midterm was coming up and he was absolutely stressed over it. So when his best mate James' girlfriend Lily had suggested a library near her department, psychology, one Sirius was aware of but honestly had never stepped foot in, he finally caved. Sirius packed everything he would need for the day and trekked there. He wandered the library for a bit, running his fingers over the spines of texts before searching for a table to work at. He found the perfect one within moments and it was empty, which came as a surprise to Sirius. It seemed despite there being many students in there working, some even sitting on the floor leaned against the shelves, this table was left alone. Not one to question a gift from the universe, Sirius unloaded his bag and began to work.

Sirius was deep in a sketch for his project when the light from the window dimmed. Sirius looked up in confusion only to be face to face with a sandy haired student who would tower over him even if he rose to his feet. Sirius’ eyes trailed over the other man, bundled in layers and layers of clothing and staring down at Sirius as if he couldn’t believe the audacity. This must have been why the table was empty before. Sirius sighed and slowly began to pack up. He wasn’t in the mood to pick a fight with someone who was possessive over the other half of a table in a library. He just wanted to study and then go to work.

The student seemed to realise what was occurring when he waved his hands at Sirius and offered him a tentative smile, sitting his stuff down and motioning for Sirius to sit. Sirius bit his lip, uncertain but nodded, pulling back out his notebook and textbook as the other boy sat across from him, unpacking his own things.

They never spoke, not once the entire time they worked. Both content to have a table mate that seemed just as keen to focus on their studies as the other was. When the library began to close up for the night the other boy gave Sirius a soft nod of approval as he left.

Sirius was busy the next two days, between lectures and his volunteer work, he hardly had time to sleep and eat let alone study. Sirius was so behind he was overwhelmed and so grateful that he had the Friday to spend all day in the library working. He filled up at breakfast with James and Lily, eating until his stomach hurt so he wouldn’t need to leave the library for any reason until evening. Lily had expressed concern at that, but James had whispered it was better than him going on an empty stomach into a hyperfixation. James had been witness to many of those incidents over the years. The longest being the entire week he dived into studying the Queer History in Britain after realising and coming to terms with the fact that he wasn’t straight.

Sirius almost sighed in relief when he sat down at the table across from the other young man that was there before. He looked up at Sirius and gave Sirius a small smile and nod before returning to his own work. He had two papers and five drawings to do and Sirius felt like he was going to explode if a single person interrupted him while he was working today.

—--

To say Remus hadn’t been surprised and upset when the dark haired boy was at his table for the first time would be a lie. Remus had in fact been prepared to storm off or demand the other person leave. That was his workspace. He had claimed that table on the first day of lessons and everyone else saw fit to leave him alone, his annoyed expressions and tiny scoffs of annoyance at the jokes and small talk when he was trying to work left an unspoken rule for the others to just not bother him.

Apparently that didn’t endear him to his peers since he could hear them frequently explaining to new people not to talk to him because he was a bit of a dick. But Remus didn’t care. He wasn’t there to make friends, he was there to study. And furthermore, none of them seemed to notice his acc device nor his many signs of signalling that he was autistic. For fucks sake, he wore a lanyard with his student ID that said Autistic AF. His beanie had a rainbow infinity symbol on the brim. He hated that he had to flag himself like this, but he refused to explain himself to people. Those who understood would get it, and those ignorant well they could just assume he was an arse and fuck off.

His parents and therapist over the years had said this was not conducive for making friends or having a relationship with people, but Remus was frankly tired of trying. He had put so much time and effort into masking and trying to befriend people in school only for them to like him until he became too much for them. Remus was sick of people ghosting him, dropping him the moment he couldn't mask anymore, and in one situation outright trying to sexually assault him because he had been naive and easy.

Someone hadn’t informed this bloke though, he sat intently sketching a copy of an artefact from the textbook at his side, occasionally referencing another book. Remus stood watching him for a bit when it seemed the boy finally realised he was there and looked up confused before sighing and scrambling to pack up. Remus was taken aback by the annoyed expression on the other person's face, apparently upset to have to find someplace else to work, and Remus had to admit that the other man was quite attractive. So he waved his hands and motioned for him to sit, to stay, before sitting in his own chair and beginning to work. Remus could share his table just this once.

Only it hadn’t been once. The other person came back two days later practically melting into the chair across the table from him as if he was relieved to be there before taking a deep breath as if to prepare himself and began to work. Remus wouldn’t admit to anyone that he didn’t spend as much time as he should have working. Using this time to silently observe his table mate in curiosity. He worked with a ferocity Remus had never seen in another person, outside himself that was. He wrote quickly in scratchy but tiny looped cursive and referenced almost as many books as Remus did when working. At one point he soundlessly groaned and rubbed his temples before putting whatever he was working on away and taking out a sketch pad to work on another drawing of some ancient item. He never tried to whisper to Remus, to interrupt him. He just worked diligently all through the day, straight through lunch, until the library was closing up for the evening. Remus determined then that he could stay. He would share his table with the other young man.

The other person was missing over the weekend but was already sitting at the table when Remus arrived anytime he made it to the library that week. The following week he was absent everyday. There seemed to be no rhyme or rhythm to the other man's schedule and that was honestly bothering Remus. He never knew when the other man would be there or when he wouldn’t and Remus not only hated unpredictability but he dreaded surprises.

As if the other boy could read Remus’ mind, the following weeks were in fact predictable. He was there before Remus on Monday and Wednesday. He was there a few hours after Remus on Tuesday and Thursday. They were both there not long after opening on Fridays and he was never there on the weekends. It continued this way straight through midterms. Remus was looking forward to the ability to focus on something else for a while after. He had heard there was a new exhibit at the Fitzwilliam Museum and he really wanted to go see it.

—-

As midterms approached Sirius turned in his project, his sketchpad filled with detailed drawings of various artefacts. Sirius was grateful to see that one assignment finished and took the following week to pick up extra shifts at the chocolat. He used the extra money that week to pay in advance his cell phone bill for the next several months and left money with Lily for his part of the water and electric bills. After that he buckled down and spent every spare moment not in lectures or working in the library.

He was determined to pass his midterms and prove everyone wrong. So many of the people in his courses thought he wasn’t cut out for it, a few of his professors hinted as much even. The information and art portions didn’t come naturally. He had a poor memory for just memorising facts, preferring more to understand the hows and whys then to just spout off random dates and locations. But he was always fascinated and determined to succeed, so he studied.

Midterms finally came and Sirius nailed them. He had literally screamed, “in your face!” when he aced the one from his hardest professor. Luckily, he did it when only James and Lily were present. He would have hated to anger that professor any more than he already was. The Potters had celebrated for all three of them, praising them and having a nice luncheon before everyone was passed around for hugs. Monty slipped fifty quid into Sirius’ hand and told him to use it for something nice. That he had worked hard and deserved it. Sirius had no idea what to use it on and honestly wanted to give it back, but Monty had insisted that he would know if Sirius spent it on bills or groceries because he had enlisted James to dob on him. So Sirius placed it in his wallet and figured he'd just use it for an emergency or something.

Sirius’ study schedule changed again following the midterm, his hours at the museum changing some. He had to drop two of his study times and now was there Monday, Thursday, and Friday. That worked for him though, because he really enjoyed getting to talk to the children that came in about the displays. Answering their questions that adults rolled their eyes at. Sirius never did though. Children always had the most intriguing questions and thoughts because they hadn’t been beaten down by society yet to not say what they were thinking. Sirius loved that!

Sirius continued on at the chocolat like usual and the weekend following midterms was a bit hectic with orders, one woman came in and practically bought out the shop. Sirius had asked why she had needed so many, if the order was for an event, and she just laughed and said it was a gift for her son for passing his midterms and she hoped they would last longer than a week but she seriously doubted it. Sirius had laughed and sent her off with congratulations for her son and a wink at the register when he added a few extras for herself.

Anytime he was in the library, the golden haired boy was there too. Either sitting and working already when he arrived or joining him not long after he had started working. Sirius had taken to watching him sometimes, when the other was working and he was less likely to be caught. He glanced at him through his lashes when he was drawing or made it look like he was referencing another text but would watch the other for a few moments.

He was actually really pretty. His hair was a soft brown with curls that looked golden when the sun's rays hit it through the window. His eyes were dark brown, sharp and quick. Sirius could tell he was wicked smart. His handwriting was neat and tidy, unlike Sirius’, and he always kept a tablet near him that he never touched. He always seemed to be dressed in layers, but after weeks of working near each other, Sirius noticed that the beanie had a rainbow infinity symbol.

He didn’t know what that meant and spent one Friday evening after the library looking it up. Leading him down an all nighter about the term neurodiverse and the neurodivergent movement and the many things that fell under that. Sirius learned that ADHD was considered under that umbrella and immediately ran to James to express his excitement that he wasn’t broken like he had been led to believe. That the way they talked about ADHD and others were with a more positive and prideful tone.

After that he tried to notice everything he could about the other boy. Without knowing it, he had helped Sirius and Sirius was determined to find a way to thank him. But the other young man never ate or drank anything when in the library and Sirius didn’t know what he liked. He guessed his major by only seeing the enormous pile of psychology texts.

Apparently he talked about this other boy a lot, because one day when Sirius brought it up to Lily, she just smiled at him and said, “you know most people just ask the people they are interested in out on a date. But maybe you should start by finding out his name first.”

That led Sirius to a crisis. He panicked and avoided the library for two weeks.

—-

Remus passed his midterms with no problem. His parents came down for a weekend and they celebrated. Remus showed them around and took them to two of his favourite museums. They wandered the arcade and Lyall insisted on buying Remus new docs while there. Remus rolled his eyes but thanked him while his mum went into the chocolat while Remus and his dad went to get his docs and bought Remus a small supply of sweets.

Remus occasionally noticed the other boy staring at him but Remus never called him out on it, because then he would have to admit that he was also watching the other just as much. He had soft blue eyes that seemed to jump between a blue so light they looked like glass and as dark as the storm clouds that currently gathered outside the library window while they worked.

The sky got darker faster and faster as they neared Yule and soon Remus was walking to and from the library in the inky blackness. The cold seemed to seep into Remus’ bones and he never removed his layers and Remus debated moving the table closer to the radiator some days just to feel a little warmer.

Remus noticed when the dark haired boy wasn’t there the first time. He thought nothing of it. The second time, he glanced around often during his stay wondering if he had chosen someplace else to sit. The third time, Remus got up and subtly wandered the library curious if he was even in the library at all. The fourth, Remus struggled to focus. Somehow he had gotten used to the other boys' quiet noises. The house of his pen scratching on the paper or his pencil sketching out antiques. He had gotten used to looking up and seeing him sitting there, trying unsuccessfully to not be looking right back at Remus. The fifth day Remus couldn’t work at all. He spent the entire time staring out the window worried that something bad had happened to him but didn’t know how to check. The sixth, he resigned himself that somehow without even speaking this time, he had lost another friend. 

When the other boy was sitting at the table just like he always was on that following Monday, Remus gasped in surprise. The sound apparently louder than he had ever made before alerting the other to his presence because blue eyes quickly met his own. The dark haired boy quickly looked down at his lap and then up at Remus again offering a nervous smile and a tentative wave. Remus slowly took his seat and started to pull out his books. And without any words, just like that, they were back to their usual routine. 

Remus had never been so grateful to see someone okay in his life, other than his own family that was. Somehow without him ever noticing this other person had become part of his routine and he felt off kilter without him. That confused Remus. So he did the only thing he could think of, he video called his mum. She read through his long rambled sentences that strung together, often repeating themselves as he typed quickly. The sound of his messages incoming on her end became a string of small bings until he had written himself in circles and she bid him to pause and take a breath and give her a few moments to catch up. 

Remus had not been expecting her to tell him that he should introduce himself. That this other person seemed like they could be a friend. That Remus should take that step once more, try again. Remus was adamant that it was a bad idea. That it would end badly when he didn’t show up again. Hope combated his arguments with logic. “If you’re friends then he could just tell you when he won't make it. Then you wouldn’t worry.” Damn her for knowing just what to say. 

So Remus decided that he would try, one more time, to make a friend. But he swore if this didn’t work that he would become a hermit. His mum laughed and rolled her eyes at his dramatics but told him she loved him, blew him kisses through the video, and told him to go.

Remus walked into the library that Friday with a folded piece of paper in his pocket. He worried it, turning it over and over with his hand in an attempt to stay calm. When he got to their table, he was there. He hadn't unpacked yet and stood awkwardly shuffling his feet. 

He looked up at Remus as Remus approached and Remus could tell he was nervous. His bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his hands clenching and unclenching the sides of his trousers. 

Remus stood up straight and walked over, displaying a look of what he hoped was indifference to whatever was about to happen.

“Hi. I know we haven't talked before. But I'm Sirius. I mean I'm not serious, well sometimes I am. My name. I mean my name is Sirius, like the star.” He said in a rushed out whisper, “and well I was well I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me. Like as well as a date.” 

—-

He stared at Sirius, his bag slowly sinking to the ground. He didn’t say anything, just stared at him. Sirius waited a moment, two, three, and then nodded. “Oh well um thats okay. Just pretend like I hadn’t said anything please.” 

Sirius turned back to the table to pack up, before freezing, confused for a moment before he remembered he hadn’t unpacked in the first place. He wanted to bang his head on the table now. He looked like an idiot. 

The golden haired boy tapped his shoulder and Sirius turned, expecting to see pity on his face, when a piece of paper was held out for him. The boy smiled at Sirius and raised an eyebrow. Sirius took the paper and bit his lip as he unfolded it. 

“Hi. My name is Remus. I'm nonspeaking and autistic.”

Sirius read it and looked up at the boy, Remus, who was quickly typing away on his tablet and then held it out for Sirius. Sirius took it and the screen said, “yes. I’d really like to go on a date with you Sirius, the star who is only sometimes serious.”

Sirius chuckled and looked up at Remus, “really?”

Remus nodded and motioned with his head to the door with his eyebrows furrowed. 

Sirius quickly nodded and gathered his stuff, handing the tablet back to Remus. “Ya. We can go now.”

The date went really well, at least Sirius thought so. He would talk to Remus and Remus would type back. It wasn’t until near the end of the date when Remus let the robotic voice speak the sentences instead of having Sirius just read them, obviously becoming more comfortable using it with him. 

Sirius asked if Remus had a cell phone and could text. Remus snorted and nodded, holding out his hand for Sirius’ phone. Sirius handed it to him and Remus added himself to Sirius’ contacts. When they parted ways, Sirius asked Remus if he would be at the library Monday. And despite Remus not saying anything, Sirius could see him roll his eyes and Sirius knew he was laughing at him before nodding his head and waving bye. 

Sirius called into work that weekend, choosing instead to hole up learning everything he could about autism and nonspeaking communication.

[lyrashifts]

. . . INTRODUCING MY MARAUDERS DR !

ABOUT : this dr is set in the 70s, and begins during my first year at hogwarts. it strays quite far from the actual events of the marauders era, and instead merges with the plot of the lighting era. in this dr, me and my friends work against prejudices and an upcoming war, as well as a very dangerous voldemort on the rise.

౨ৎ﹕[ ABOUT ME ! ]

+ name : lyra a. lavigne

+ nationality : english-french

+ birthplace : cambridge, england

+ languages : english, french

+ blood status : pureblood

+ house : gryffindor

+ moodboard

౨ৎ﹕[ PERSONALITY ! ]

+ likes : writing, playing the guitar, drawing, reading, theater, cookies, poetry, magical creatures and animals, going on long walks, baking, being better dressed than everyone else, jumpers, rainy days, shopping (especially for music and clothes), hozier, queen, david bowie, the smiths, little women, lemon iced tea, stealing james's invisibility cloak, pranking (and actually getting away with it)

+ known for : converse, cherry red, loving 90s muggle movies, being best friends with remus, reading at social events when bored, drinking too much coffee, having cool hair, my style, quoting dead poets society daily, leather jackets, liking hozier and the smiths way too much, being an amazing gift giver, having a new hairstyle every day, being nice to everyone unless they cross me, smelling like cinnamon, coffee, and books, being amazing at school and magic, somehow getting every lead role in plays, wearing jumpers and leather jackets in the dead of summer and not somehow overheating to the point of death

౨ৎ﹕[ BACKSTORY ! ]

+ backstory : i grew up in england where a lot of my family was but by the time i turned 13 we moved to scotland, partially to attend hogwarts and partially because my parents wanted to get away from some of our pureblood family members. my parents, though from a notable pureblood family, don't agree with the views of pureblood culture. because my parents' reputation for their last name still upheld, when we moved we were invited to an event that ended up just being a pureblood society ball. we only stayed out of politeness, but it was there that i met sirius and promised to be best friends with him when we got to hogwarts since we both hated the party.

౨ৎ﹕[ WARDROBE ! ]

+ description : my style in this dr can change a lot, especially taking into consideration the weather or location i'm in. in terms of colors, i wear a lot of neutrals but tend to have a specific color pop (which oftentimes a cherry red). during winter and autumn months, i am often wearing oversized jumpers (whether mine or stolen from remus). i also almost always wear flared or baggy pants. some of my iconic pieces include leather jackets, doc martens, band tees, baker boy hats, plaid skirts, and more. during the summer i tend to wear baby tees and babydoll tops, along with skirts. with my uniform, i pair many accessories to make it look as appealing as possible, and use magic to have different nails every day.

౨ৎ﹕[ LIFE AT HOGWARTS ! ]

+ general : students start first year at 14, so it is a sort of hybrid between highschool and university, where students have much more freedom once 18. school uniforms are only required during classes from monday - thursday, and on friday you may wear your desired outfit underneath your robes.

+ dorms : students are allocated private dorms that have within them a bed, a desk, a private bathroom, and more. once a student is assigned to a dorm, the dorm changes to accommodate that student's taste. once you are given your dorm number, you must choose a password and it is your responsibility to ensure students you do not want to come in cannot. in the case that a student knows your password and you do not want them to, you can ask a professor to change it and they will do so. alohomora will not unlock dorm rooms. dorms are organized by house, but boy's and girl's dorms are not separated - everything is instead organized by house and name.

+ extra-curriculars : the clubs i am part of include music club (which later inspires me and my friends to make a band), theater club, art club, care of magical creatures club, and in later years, the quidditch team

+ houses : the animosity between houses (especially slytherin and gryffindor) is not nearly as prevalent as depicted in the books. it is known that not all students in one house are the same, and so, while some friendly competition is encouraged, it is not uncommon to have friends from every house. students of every house are allowed into the common rooms and dorms (with permission of at least one person from that house).

+ events : all the events featured in this post are included in this dr

౨ৎ﹕[ ABOUT THIS DR ! ]

+ worldbuilding : not a lot changes about the war except for the fact that it's toned down and ends during my seventh year (which we redo since it would be similar to the last year in the harry potter books - looking for horcruxes without actually being at hogwarts). of course, none of my friends die. i haven't accounted for how the war will end exactly, so i suppose i'll let that work itself out organically.

+ main friends : remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, lily evans, regulus black, marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald.

+ relationships : i am a formal part of both the marauders and the valkyries. i became friends with the marauders at the start of the school year, and we were consequently established as a friend group before me and the girls. i tend to spend more time with the marauders but our groups often mingle since everyone gets along (except maybe lily and james at the beginning). i also have some friends in slytherin, such as andromeda and regulus, but i tend to stay away from the anti-muggleborn students.

[finnlongman]

Where are you definitely not doing a PhD at ?

Cambridge!

It was mainly a practical choice -- I already lived here, needed to stay in the same city for a while longer for health reasons, and also they have the money to fund people doing weird niche things that the AHRC doesn't seem to like enough to fund. Which is helpful when you are me, doing weird niche things that the AHRC doesn't seem to like enough to fund.

I've never really vibed with the Cambridge mystique and the whole "formals and superfluous Latin" side of things, though, and I had a pretty rough time here in undergrad, so I have complicated feelings about being back. But hopefully the excellent libraries, the funding, and the fact that I'm at a very egalitarian and no-nonsense modern college (and also, crucially, do not live in student accommodation but in my own place a couple of miles outside of the university "bubble") will make it a different and better experience this time around.

And if I am going to need to dress up fancy for stuff, I am going to milk it for all its worth. Although I only have the one suit, so my "gadding about in formalwear" photos will start to look the same very quickly.

[petervintonjr]

"A first-class citizen does not beg for freedom. A first-class citizen does not plead to the power structure to give him something that the whites have no power to give or take away. Human rights are human rights, not white rights."

Meet "Glorious" Gloria Hayes Richardson (later Dandridge), the first woman to found and lead a grassroots civil rights organization outside of the Deep South, the Cambridge Nonviolent Action Committee (CNAC). Born in 1922 Baltimore, Maryland during the Depression, Gloria was fortunate to be born into a reasonably privileged Black family --her father's family, the Hayes, owned real estate and operated businesses; and her mother's family, the St. Clairs, were politically active and well-connected --her maternal grandfather was the sole Black member of the Cambridge, Maryland city council. Gloria graduated from Howard University in 1942 and worked for various Federal agencies during World War II, but was unemployable in social services after the war due to her race. In 1948 she married schoolteacher Harry Richardson and spent the next 13 years raising their children, where the story might be expected to end.

It was her own teenage daughter Donna that changed Gloria's life trajectory. In 1961 Donna became involved with the Freedom Riders and then the SNCC (Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee), in an attempt to desegregate Cambridge's public accommodations. Gloria also joined in the efforts but pointedly did not subscribe to, nor endorse, the SNCC's prevailing commitment to non-violence. When desegregation actions faltered, Gloria instead created the aforementioned Cambridge Nonviolent Action Committee (CNAC) as an adult-run SNCC affiliate. With the advantage of being in a so-called "border" state rather than in the Deep South, the CNAC was able to expand its scope of grievances, such as housing discrimination and health care. It also pursued its protest actions more aggressively (and with more violent consequences) than was the hallmark of the SNCC. In the summer of 1963 protest actions were sufficient to prompt Maryland Governor Millard Tawes to enact martial law. In an iconic photo (the basis for my illustration), Richardson visibly and angrily pushes back against a National Guard bayonet rifle. In July of that year Richardson actually landed a face-to-face meeting with then-Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy and made it plain to him that the civil rights movement was not just about desegregation and voter registration drives, but also about systemic poverty and joblessness (Black unemployment ran to nearly 40% that year). In the aftermath of that meeting, the Treaty Of Cambridge was negotiated, which proposed to desegregate Dorchester County public facilities, establish provisions for public housing, and create a human rights commission.

Unfortunately Richardson's unapologetic means and methods, while certainly inspiring and headline-grabbing (and also placing her at No. 2 on the Ku Klux Klan's target list, just after Martin Luther King), also bore a cost: barely a month later, while she and five other women from the CNAC had been specifically invited to sit on the stage with King at the March On Washington, she was not allowed by its organizers to actually speak and only managed a quick "hello" to the assembled crowd that day, before her microphone was cut.

After the passage of the Civil Rights Act in 1964, after two years of near-continuous demonstrations, an exhausted Gloria resigned from the Cambridge Nonviolent Action Committee and moved to New York. In later years she divorced Harry Richardson and married Frank Dandridge, a freelance photographer. For the rest of her life Gloria remained steadfastly committed to pushing back against entrenched white supremacy, and never compromised in her advocacy. Notably she did not support Barack Obama's presidential campaign, viewing him as lacking the same depth and background of the civil rights advocates of the 60's. However she did live to the age of 99 --long enough to be able to watch from her New York apartment window the hopeful spectacle of a new generation of angry protestors taking their outrage to the streets, after the murder of George Floyd. Gloria died shortly afterwards, on July 15, 2021. The city of Cambridge, Maryland now features her likeness on a 50' x 20' mural, just adjacent to a depiction of a fellow Dorchester County native, Harriet Tubman.

"This Supreme Court is backward and extremely right-wing. They did a job on affirmative action and will certainly go after Roe v. Wade."      --from a disturbingly prophetic interview in 2008

[universalstudenthomes20]

Eco-Friendly Options for Cambridge Student Housing

Discover eco-friendly options for student housing in Cambridge with Universal Student Homes. We offer sustainable accommodations that prioritize energy efficiency and green living. From solar-powered buildings to eco-friendly materials and waste reduction programs, our properties help you reduce your carbon footprint while enjoying a comfortable stay. Choose student housing in Cambridge that aligns with your environmental values and supports a sustainable future. Explore our eco-friendly listings today and make a positive impact on the planet.

For more information click on this link :- https://universalstudenthomes.com/

[stepseduworld]

Studying in the UK Dream: Decoding Costs, Scholarships, and Student Life

Are you considering the thrilling prospect of Studying in the UK? If so, buckle up for a journey that promises to enrich not only your academic prowess but also your personal growth. The UK beckons with its flexible academic structure, global recognition, and a vibrant student community hailing from every corner of the globe. Imagine a dynamic environment where you can share your unique background while exploring fresh perspectives and ideas. In essence, studying in the UK isn't just about boosting your resume; it's about nurturing your growth as a well-rounded individual.

Decoding Tuition Fees: Affordable Options and Top-Tier Dreams

Now, let's delve into the nitty-gritty of tuition fees. For those seeking affordable options, consider universities like the University of Brighton (£14,770), Nottingham Trent University (£15,300), City University of London (£16,750), and Queen Mary University of London (£16,750). Dreaming of the academic giants? The University of Cambridge (£21,411 – £29,769), University of Oxford (£9,391 – £30,540), Warwick University (£24,630), University College London (UCL) (£17,710 – £24,610), Imperial College, London (£27,750 – £29,750), University of York (£33,016), and Loughborough University (£25,500) await. It's not just education; it's an investment in your future.

Scholarship Safari: Funding Your Academic Odyssey

Worried about the financial crunch? Fear not! The UK generously offers a plethora of scholarships from government bodies, universities, independent organizations, and charitable foundations. While master's programs often have more opportunities, exceptional undergraduates can still find their golden ticket. Dive into the official websites of your chosen university and explore scholarships in your home country. Think British Chevening Scholarships, Commonwealth Scholarships, Commonwealth Shared Scholarship Scheme at UK Universities, and Marshall Scholarships. Keep an eye on university-specific scholarships from Cambridge, Warwick, Bristol, York, and Loughborough—competitive but oh-so-rewarding.

Cracking the Code: Cost of Living in the UK

Let's talk numbers – the cost of living in the UK is a crucial puzzle piece in your academic adventure. From accommodation to food and transportation, your budget needs to stretch. London, the crown jewel, is the most expensive, but don't worry; we've got figures. According to UKCISA, international students can expect to spend an average of £12,180 per year on living expenses. Dining out? It might pinch your wallet with an average meal at a mid-range restaurant setting you back around £15. But fear not, savvy students, cooking at home is your budget-friendly ally.

Embark on your UK study adventure, armed with knowledge, scholarships, and a keen eye on your budget. Your academic odyssey awaits!

[quintessbrit]

The Prince of Wales' Patronages, Charities and Affiliations

(Page 1 of 2, showing 1-20)

Automobile Association - Honorary Life Member

Club for drivers, providing insurance and other motoring services.

British Trust for Ornithology - Patron

Promotes bird conservation through volunteer-based surveys of national bird life.

Centrepoint - Patron

National charity providing accommodation and support for socially excluded, homeless young people.

Child Bereavement UK - Royal Patron

Offer support to children and families who have been bereaved.

English Schools Swimming Association - Patron

Encourage school children to learn to swim and compete at several levels - for their school, their district, and their country.

Fauna & Flora International - Patron

International conservation body promoting sustainable conservation and biodiversity.

Fields in Trust - Patron

Organisation seeking to protect and improve playing fields and other recreational spaces in the UK.

Gloucestershire County Cricket Club - Honorary Member

Henry van Straubenzee Memorial Fund - Joint Patron

Aims to lift children out of poverty through education. Funds are directed to projects in south-east region of Uganda.

The Honourable Society of the Middle Temple - Royal Master of the Bench

Middle Temple is one of the four Inns of Court which have the exclusive right to Call students to the Bar. The education and training of advocates lie at the heart of the Inn, but we are also a professional society for our membership worldwide; and we maintain a heritage estate in central London housing chambers from which barristers practise.

Irish Guards - Colonel

Infantry regiment of the Foot Guards of the British Army.

London's Air Ambulance Charity - Patron

London’s Air Ambulance is the charity that delivers an advanced trauma team to London’s most seriously injured patients. Using a helicopter from 08:00 to sunset, and rapid response cars at night or in adverse weather situations, London’s Air Ambulance brings the hospital to the patient when time is critical. The Duke of Cambridge is Patron of London's Air Ambulance during 2019 for its 30th Anniversary year.

Metropolitan & City Police Orphans Fund - Patron

The Orphans Fund began in 1870 as an Orphanage, which makes it the oldest police charity in the world. In 2020 we will be celebrating our 150th anniversary. The Orphanage closed in 1937 and the modern charity began, which makes 2017 our 80th anniversary.

Mountain Rescue Council England & Wales - Patron

The national co-ordinating body for volunteer search and rescue teams in England and Wales.

National Emergencies Trust (NET) - Patron

In the event of a domestic disaster the National Emergencies Trust will launch a public appeal and then work with charitable bodies to distribute funds to support survivors.

NHS Charities Together - Patron

NHS Charities Together is the membership organisation for more than 240 of the NHS charities across the U.K. It provides a forum for nationwide campaigns; specialist advice and guidance; bespoke events and training opportunities.

Royal African Society - Patron

Aims to strengthen links between Africa and Britain and encourage understanding of Africa.

Royal Air Force Coningsby - Honorary Air Commandant

Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow - Honorary Fellow

Aims to advance good medical practice among doctors, surgeons and dentists.

[Information from royal.uk - websites linked when possible]

[leoward]

𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀  . . .  📚😜

.  .  . dark summer grass. lightning bugs in their slow flashing. the night above you was more in you than your breath, the stars always shifting in your chest.

MUSINGS  .  .  .  VISAGE  . . .  HEADCANONS  . . .  SELF-PARAS  .  .  .  extended map.

LEONARDO “LEO” ALFRED WARD  ( cis male, he/him, kedar williams-stirling )  is 27 and a GRADUATE STUDENT from LONDON, ENGLAND. they are known as THE SCHOLAR because they are BRIGHT, but if things kick off, they can be a bit RESTLESS. they’re HETEROSEXUAL and describe their type as equally as intellectually curious and willing to wear their legs out… exploring the city ;) from their time in the villa, they’re hoping to find MONEY.  ( book bag weighed like seven bricks, thermos perpetually filled with earl grey, & an expensive desk in disarray )

+ bright, perceptive, energetic, friendly, charismatic. - restless, self-conscious, big-headed, fickle, competitive.

—  written by morgan, 23, she/her, pst .  .  .  cis bi korean woman.

prologue.

mother was an internationally popular supermodel and father was a fairly well-known television actor.

both were notoriously good-looking, though her mother more so esp due to her occupation and geographical range of fame.

relationship was highly publicized for a while until the start of their marriage when they put an iron-clad lock on their family’s privacy.

CHAPTER I.

eyes were on the family again when leo entered the picture, particularly when he didn’t shy away from social media when he went off to secondary school.

intelligent, high-achieving, boisterous, socially accommodating, good-looking, well-off, athletic, able to thrive off of inherited fame, and willing to feed curious viewers glimpses into his seemingly perfect life... he was a shoe-in for being a quasi-influencer.

he also had a habit of ghosting social media before making sudden comebacks, though this display of untouchability seemed to fuel people’s curiosity.

in reality, as much as he liked the attention, he wasn’t able to not tie his self-worth into every bit of it he got -- which wasn’t great since he knew the foundation for that attention was due to his parents’ work... leading him to become obsessive then repulsed at the attention. rinse and repeat.

to make up for it, although he was naturally curious enough to pursue all this endeavors, he tried much harder, going above and beyond to prove he was capable of being both extraordinary and self-made.

a futile attempt since he’ll never be able to change the circumstances of his birth. he knows this.

CHAPTER II.

went to cambridge and majored in literature and history.

rejected shallow monetary opportunities, feeling a little wounded that in the end, people would just see him as a to-be celebrity more than a well-accomplished individual beyond his parents’ legacy.

when approaching academia, was met with derision or passionate mentorship, depending on the professor/fellow student and their skepticism (and where that skepticism stemmed from).

nonetheless, academia provided a challenging solace.

however, he didn’t feel an acute sense of satisfaction until he overcame challenges in his master’s program too.

these challenges included the expected bigotry in academia, sussing out those who wanted to help because they believed in him vs. those who wanted to ride his coattails, and finally producing work only because he was dedicated to his work and not because of any sullying motivation to “prove” anything, whether that’s to anyone else or himself. even privatized his social media and paid little thought to it while he focused on his studies.

CHAPTER III.

however, his goals thwarted his parents’ expectations and hopes, which mainly included law school. by pursuing corporate law, he’d have a guaranteed path towards wealth so that he could continue living the life he’s used to.

he refused to give up his path towards a doctorate, leading to them cut off funding for his education.

though he does have grant-winning prowess, he unfortunately feels uneasy about adapting to a non-cushy life while embarking on an incredibly challenge that’ll take him nearly a decade to complete.

epilogue.

so, he signed up to be on love island.

even unprivated his instagram the month before airing and posted a few beach photos to earn a few brownie points from the public. just as he planned, he made some headlines.

the idea of defining his adult public image as a piece of arse makes him cringe a little. and truthfully, he’s afraid he might like the attention too much. it could really mess with his head.

but nonetheless, he’s got to pad up his finances if he wants to live his life the way he wants. he’s just got to meet everyone else’s expectations for a little longer, one last time.

[vijeesha]

"An Exploration of the Benefits of Studying in the UK for International Students"

If you're considering studying abroad, the United Kingdom might be a suitable destination for you. With some of the world's most prestigious universities and a rich cultural heritage, the UK is a top choice for international students. Here are some key reasons to consider studying in the UK.

Quality of Education

The UK is home to some of the world's most prestigious universities, including the University of Oxford and the University of Cambridge. However, there are also many other excellent universities and colleges throughout the country. UK universities offer a wide range of courses and degrees, from undergraduate to postgraduate research degrees. Many courses are taught by leading academics who are experts in their fields. This gives students access to some of the most outstanding teaching and research opportunities in the world.

Cultural Diversity

The UK is a melting pot of cultures and nationalities, with people from all over the world living and studying here. This diversity creates a vibrant and welcoming atmosphere, where students can learn from each other's experiences and broaden their understanding of different cultures. The UK is also home to many historic landmarks and cultural institutions, such as the British Museum and the National Gallery. These institutions offer students the chance to explore the country's rich cultural heritage.

Language Advantage

English is one of the most widely spoken languages in the world. Studying in the UK can give students the opportunity to improve their language skills in a native English-speaking environment. This can be a valuable asset for future career prospects, as well as for personal growth and cultural understanding.

Career Prospects

The UK has a strong economy and a dynamic job market, making it an attractive destination for students seeking career prospects. Many universities have strong links with industry, offering students the chance to gain practical experience and make valuable connections with potential employers. The UK also has a post-study work visa scheme that allows international students to remain in the country for up to two years after graduation to work and gain experience in their chosen field.

Student Support

UK universities are renowned for their high levels of student support, with many institutions providing a range of services to help international students settle in and thrive. These services may include language support, academic and personal counseling, and assistance with accommodation.

Overall, studying in UK offers students the opportunity to experience a world-class education in a welcoming and diverse environment. The UK offers excellent academic and career opportunities to students looking to broaden their horizons and expand their opportunities.