#i learned about those topics as early as 5th grade

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

Stuck at the bookstore until 3. Normally I wouldn't mind, but most of the people who have walked in here have been either annoying or an asshole.

[myloveforhergoeson]

i really think one of the craziest parts of btrtv was their school situation like. yeah we never see them in school after the second season but in theory they were getting an education and i simply think the writers handled it in the only way they could. let me explain.

typically young people in the entertainment industry are schooled either through the company they work for or through their parents. obviously, since btrtv was aimed at a younger audience they couldn't just not have the boys go to school - what kind of example would that set for the viewers? moving to hollywood equals never having to learn again?

while i was thinking about this topic earlier i was trying to come up with some different ways the show could have gone about this but managed only a few examples:

jennifer could homeschool them. but when? she's barely at the apartment as is and would have to juggle two different curriculums, one for the boys and one for katie. we already know thanks to bt school of rocque she also isn't caught up on modern schooling practices. plus i feel like, though she is their mother in many ways, she'd have difficulty controlling those 5 for 4 straight hours. i feel like they'd always be able to convince her to run off on a tangent instead of actually teaching them anything. next!

the boys could have been enrolled in regular high school. in theory, this would work for maybe a few months. until their first tour at the very least but after that i believe it would likely be dangerous for them to leave the sanctity of the palm woods or rocque records and venture out into the real world. while this could open up plotlines like people only wanting to be friends with them for their fame, crazy fans finding out where they learn, the boys being in trouble for being a genuine safety risk to other students when the paps follow them to school... seemed like more trouble than it's worth! also pretty similar to the plot of jonas which was airing at the same time on disney channel. next!

school at rocque records... had potential i believe. if gustavo had put the proper amount of funding to a quality space and quality teachers, i think the boys would have (aside from generally hating school) been alright there. while not ideal, it could have served it's purpose for the whole four hours they'd have to spend in school. it's very similar to how most industry kids learn now. in addition, they could have worked hard to graduate early, as many industry kids do, but i also believe this would have been a hard plot point to achieve. overall, i'd rank this option pretty high for the guys - it could have had everything they needed, except for the socialization they so desperately craved. next!

online school? in the early 2000's? yeah right. next!

this brings us to what i see as the final option, being of course, school at the palm woods. while not ideal, it does serve all of the boys needs to the best of the writers abilities. i do, however, feel the need to speak on the quality of education they are being granted. no shade to miss collins, i know that poor woman is doing her best and juggling probably six or seven grades worth of curriculum in her classroom, but as someone who was in a split grade class (4/5 when i was in 4th grade, 5/6 when i was in 5th grade!) i can assure you she was not giving her full attention to any of the grade levels she was trying to teach. i'm so sorry they set you up for failure queen.

while this probably worked out in the end for the guys (logan can snatch all A's and look amazing on college/med school applications and his friends could just coast by on the grades they need to pass) i think the episode in which they come back from tour and earn their final grades speaks the most to the education they're afforded. no way they (logan really) did weeks worth of work in one afternoon and earned straight c's lol. hope the band lasts forever and ever and ever after btrtv ends because if not... yikes.

but at the same time... i think this was the best option for schooling both from a writers perspective and the band's needs! socialization, check! normal school events like dancing, check! adequate enough education (how much do they really learn in four hours anyway?), check! it always fits into their working schedules. and it's union-approved! while not ideal, at the very least it's something.

in all, good luck boys! hope miss collins offers some office hours if you ever have questions... maybe there's a reason we never got to see them graduate <3

[looking4hermez]

The Magic Within / Old Friends, New Memories - 29/11/24

Character sheet | First draft of the second half of chapter one along with some information | Next chapter

Alabaster wasn’t at all like how he expected to be—for starters, a wealthy financial advisor adopted him and went to a school where he learned magic. Alabaster could not use magic. It wasn’t in his system, nor was he believed to be, or at least as of current. Why, though, did the Vespertines, his adoptive parents, enrol him in a school he was certain to fail at? To put it simply, he was their son now, and that made him their legacy. And a legacy is something you don’t want to die.Now Alabaster Ledger Vespertine had a mission: to learn magic to the best of his abilities. Fortunately, he had the chance to learn magic. He was on the wealthier side now, and that meant he could buy a Direction Stone or four. A direction stone, a gem of sorts, can help control kinds of magic. Those kinds of magic are elemental and correspond with the directions, as the name suggests, North, East, South, and West. Depending on which element Alabaster feels closer to, he can choose a stone, but perhaps he takes after his parents and brother and chooses all four. Did I mention his brother?

Gaius Julius Caesar (Kae-ser, not See-ser like how the public is so fond of saying) Vespertine, no, that is his actual name, is the adoptive older brother Alabaster. Though, by how much we are not sure, since Alabaster’s proper date of birth is unknown. Gaius, like his namesake, speaks Latin and enjoys his time reading books on ancient Rome. He has similar traits to Alabaster, but overall, the brothers look different. Gaius has fair skin while Alabaster has dark olive; Gaius has brown eyes, while Alabaster has seaweed green; and to finish the short list, Gaius was an early bloomer, and by that, he was taller than most kids in his grade, while Alabaster was only 5’4. Alabaster loved his brother, and Gaius felt the same, but that didn’t mean they didn’t compete for their parents’ affection.

Alabaster and Gaius battled over small things like places in their grade’s spelling bee to records on track and points in tri-state chess. It was a never-ending war, but that’s how they liked it. No hard feelings, they would both say; besides, our parents love us equally.

Now, I suppose I should get back onto the topic of Alabaster, but it’s always okay to wander. Alabaster would know, since it’s what the young man was doing at the moment. At around 9:00 or so at night, when the sun had already set and it had already been one week and three days since that day, November 5th, Alabaster walked around the edges of the garden. He walked around the tall bushes pruned into different sacred animals. There were cicadas, owls, snakes, cats, jackals, and many, many more. It was pleasant, seeing the variety of animals and reading the plaques below, explaining which gods or myths were associated with them. Alabaster felt an odd connection with the tall, bucking caribou. He ran his fingers over the dark plaque. The plaque’s inscription remained unknown to him. He crouched down, trying to read the plaque, or at least try to make out some letters, and hopefully, words.

He squinted. There were odd lines where the name of the deity the animal represents should be. The lines were odd, and perhaps, in a language Alabaster just didn’t understand. Alabaster pulled out a small yellow notepad and black fountain pen. He uncapped the pen with a click He wrote exactly what he saw—something that looked like ‘ᚹᛁᚾᛏᛖᚱ.’ He would have to ask Gaius about it later. Then, Alabaster heard a roar he could only describe as ‘thunderous.’ His head snapped to his left. He stood up and sprinted towards the second outermost ring of the gardens.

In this ring were maple, oaks, pines, and more types of fir trees. He jumped over a few roots, trying to stay upright. Then, he tripped and fell face first. Alabaster pushed himself up by his arms. Alabaster sat up. He dusted the leaves off his black sleeveless shirt. It was new, and he wasn't about to cry to his moms and ask for new clothing. He stood up, still trying to pluck the leaves from his now unruly hair. He shook his head, giving up on trying to proon himself like a bird. A speck of dust, or perhaps a leaf, made its way to his eye. He yelped, stumbling backwards. Steadying himself, Alabaster took of his rectangle glasses and rubbed his eyes. He blinked, bringing his glasses down to the hem of his shirt and wiped them, attempting to clear the dirt from the lenses. In his line of blurry vision, Alabaster noticed something.

He saw a giant blob of brown and a much smaller blob of a few colours: tan, light yellow, black, and blue. He assumed it was a person. As he placed his glasses on—still dirty, but clear enough for him to see—he stepped back. Alabaster gasped, stepping backwards. He bent down, grabbing his notepad and pen. He placed the cap back on the writing utensil and shoved both things into the back pockets of his blue jeans.

It can't be her, he thought. It couldn't!...Right? He shook his head once more, trying to clear his mind. That method did not work. It really couldn't be her, but...maybe it was?

Then, he noticed the person, now actually confirmed to be a person, lift up a weapon. It had one large spike on the top with a hammer head on one side of the weapon below the first spike, and a curved blade on the other, similar to that of a scythe or crow's beak. Alabaster knew what that weapon was, after all, he and Gaius liked playing medieval weapon trivia, so it was impossible for him to not. It was a Bec de Corbin, or Beak of the Crow, a lethal weapon from the Middle Ages. And the estranged person in front of him was wielding it and aiming for the monster ahead. But the monster wasn't what Alabaster was the most worried about. She was.

Besides, Alabaster wasn’t expecting to see her again—not here and not now. This isn’t how his story should go. It shouldn’t start with a girl with dark brown eyes lighting up his miserable life, then take an intermission where they fall out. Nor should it have that same kind and comforting person lead a monster to its doom. Alabaster wasn’t sure at first glance what kind of monster it was—though he recognised its skin made of bark. He’d have to ask Gaius about two things about the garden today—but he knew for a fact she could take it down. Gods, I missed that confidence, he thought. His mind swirled with memories from their days by a river at a—now doomed—foster home.

He ducked behind a large maple tree and watched her. Noting how she had grown since their last meeting over 8 years ago, he squinted. Sure, it was only half of his life as a teen he had seen her, but she looked like she had more than 8 years of life under her belt. Alabaster was so lost in recollection and mindless admiration that he didn’t notice his grip on the bark of the tree was slipping. It was too late. The brunette fell on the fallen leaves below him, landing on his knees still dirty knees. The garden, being in a dome and quite a quiet place now that the monster had met its fate, gave the crunch of the leaves an echo that she surely heard.

As her foe collapsed on the ground dead, she turned to the maple tree. “Shit…” Alabaster muttered. She heard you, you idiot! Way to get caught! His mind screamed at him while his heart pounded in his chest. She came closer, dragging her Bec de Corbin’s hammerhead on the ground. Alabaster shifted so that his back was to the rough, mossy bark of the tree. She was coming closer to him with a bloody weapon in her hands.

He shut his eyes, trying to wish her away and pretend this was all a dream. That was when a raspy voice spoke: “Baster?” He opened his eyes. A head of wavy blonde hair peeked out from the side of the trunk. He let out a sigh of relief. Thank the universe; she doesn’t want to kill me! Alabaster looked up at his old friend, a smile on his face. “Hello, Sophia,” he said. Sophia tossed her Bec de Corbin on the ground. She grabbed Alabaster by the shoulders and hugged him. “I missed you, you Kiwi idiot!” she exclaimed. Alabaster was stunned for a moment.

When Sophia let go, Alabaster let out a chuckle. “You missed me so much that you almost broke a rib of mine in that hug.” He scratch the back of his neck, “As much as I would love to stay and chat”—that was a lie, he was about ready to cry just seeing her and he needed to get back to his dorm before Gaius called the headmaster—“can you explain how you got into the Vevesstus school gardens for students?” he asked.

Sophia rolled her eyes fondly. She nudged Alabaster with her arm. “I'm a student, idiot! I get it's shocking that I made my way here, but I got here on scholarship! Cool, right?” She looked him up and down, examining him. Alabaster did the same to her.

“You look great,” said the two in unison. His hand went to his other. He twidled his thumbs as he felt his dark olive face heat up. Sophia took a couple steps to her left and crouched down. Picking up her Bec de Corbin, she grinned. “I missed you, Baster. And this little friend of mine,” she gestured to her weapon “did too, even if I got it years after we were 8.” The two laughed at that.

Alabaster took a deep breath. “Since we're both students, how about we share our classes? I'm in the Marble class,” he said. Sophia leaned against the tree trunk, crossing her arms again. Alabaster did the same.

Then, she said the worst thing she could have ever said.

“I got into Rumble.”

[nerdy-alto]

Curse you, AC/DC, Mormonism, and/or Laziness

(In honor of Twitter's continued death throes, I figured why not repost one of the favorite long-form things I've written.)

I listened to a lot of music growing up. As the oldest kid, most of what I listened to in my very early childhood was my parent’s music; Linda Ronstadt, Doobie Brothers, Barry Manilow and various classical composers. It was a mark of my growing independence when I got my parents cast-off hi fi systems and was able to find my own radio station to listen to. And boy, did I listen to it. When we ran out of Star Wars topics to cover during recess we talked music. My big favorites were Duran Duran, or at least any band that wore make-up and had keyboards. Beyond the obvious and well-documented prepubescent attraction to non-masculine dudes, what totally attracted me to certain songs was their utter incomprehensability.

Telegram force and ready I knew this was a big mistake There’s a fine line drawing my senses together And I think it’s about to break If I listen close I can hear them singers oh-oh-oh Voices in your body coming through on the radio-oh-oh The union of the snake is on the climb Moving up it’s gonna race it’s gonna break through the borderline

Seriously, wtf does this even mean? But it didn’t matter to me, because this wasn’t your ordinary, Barry Manilow type song about some girl named Mandy, or dead showgirls (1) – this was deep. And maybe I didn’t understand it now, but when I got older – maybe mature enough to have a boyfriend, or wear makeup, or have a boyfriend who wore makeup it would all become clear to me, and I would listen to these songs with a profound understanding. Yes, I’d surely cogitate, this is the Union of the Snake breaking through borderlines. Good thing I got that telegram force!  

I can hear your cries of protest now – But surely you weren’t an idiot, nerdycellist, why did you just accept that kind of nonsense? To which I reply, Why thank you, no, I was of course a very smart child (2) but those crucial years of cerebral cortex development were marred by Mormonism. (3) Among Mormonism’s many fine doctrines and articles and rules and crap is the concept of “the milk before the meat”. Both the History and Theology of Mormonism is sometimes less than salubrious (mountain meadows massacre), and frequently insanely wacky (Adam-God doctrine). Since Mormonism’s also big on converting people, they try and keep the crazy shit from the new recruits until they’re far enough entrenched in the cult that they’re willing to suspend disbelief. The official party-line is the analogy that a baby must first learn to drink milk before it can eat meat – too much too soon and you’ll puke, I guess. So I figured that I can’t smile without you was like how Jesus Loved You and the reflex being a lonely child waiting by the door was the idea that my husband would have lots of other wives with me in heaven.

 So I had a certain comfort level with not understanding stuff – hell, it may have been a superiority complex – and I listened to a lot of radio. Also kiddies, in those days there was no internet to look up song lyrics, so if you didn’t have the album, you didn’t have the liner notes which only sometimes had lyrics printing in them. I was quite willing to settle for my ear’s first guess when it came to songs.

 The last piece of the puzzle here is my laziness; this has always been the bane of my existence. I learned to read very early and with that came a certain amount of knowledge in other school-related pursuits.(4) One of those was spelling, which is a terrible subject for english speakers and learners – it doesn’t make any sense! They only way you can learn how to spell is to be exposed frequently to the word. The other is just by rote repetition. My 5th grade teacher, Mr. Coombs, a favorite mostly because he tried to keep up with important pop cultural references (5), had developed a great strategy for lazy smarty-pantses like myself, who would normally get incomplete marks on take-home spelling homework that I deemed pointless busywork – he gave us 10 minutes on Monday morning to review our list of 20 words, then gave us a pre-test. You only had to do your spelling homework on the words that you missed and then you had the real test on Friday. I hardly ever missed any words on the pre-test, and so was able to skip the bogus busywork. I also pretty much aced the Friday tests. (6)

 So let us combine these points into a final scenario: A Friday spelling test was always a nice way for me to usher in the weekend. I had aced the monday pre-test and not had to waste any time copying words out or using them in sentences. Mr. Coombs would always use them in a sentence anyway when calling out the test, which was good in this case, because I had been zoning out when he first pronounced the second to last word, but he used a song lyric to illustrate it! Rad!

 I put my pencil to paper…

 “… dirty deeds and their Dunderchief.”

 huh.

 I knitted my eyebrows. That was one of those words, like wah-lah, that I had only heard but never seen written down. And that was from a part of the song that I wouldn’t understand until I was emotionally prepared to deal with the consequences of the full knowledge of that song. I was just going to have to use the context clues of the lyrics to figure out how to spell it. Dirty deeds and their Dunderchief… like an Indian Chief, only because they were Dirty deeds (and not Indian Deeds), they had a Dunderchief. You know, like a dunderhead. Yes! Now “i” before “e”…

 This made sense to me. Or at least enough that I scribbled it out in enough time to catch the last word on the quiz. It is to his credit that when Robbie Elmer passed back my corrected spelling test that he didn’t circle the word and write “stupid” or “what is this supposed to mean, idiot?”, but the big red (X) next to #19 was enough to shame me into blushing furiously while considering not turning in the paper at all so Mr. Coombs would never know that I mistook “Cheap” for a made up concept of a Leader of Dirty People.

Also, please note that any spelling mistakes in this essay were left in deliberately, as an excercise for the reader.

*******************************

Footnotes:

1. Holy crap, do I love this song. Also Manilow, but had to be closeted about that back in the day.

2. So smart in fact that I was used as a lab rat for some UofU grad students for their dissertation of kids who can pronounce all the words in Tolstoy but don’t really understand it, or doing stuff with mealworms or something. All I know is I got out of class for like an hour on the days I didn’t get out for orchestra practice! Score!

3. Man, is there anything that can’t be blamed on Mormons?

4. Manifested itself in Kindergarten, when I zoned out during reading because I was already done with Dick and Jane, and then zoned back in during math with the shock that I couldn’t make a 5.

5. He also brought his guitar sometimes and taught us Ghost Riders In The Sky – or was it Ghost Riders in Disguise? Also he demonstrated important scientific concepts by taking us out in his cessna two at a time to do barrel rolls and shit.

6. OK, I think I’m done bragging about my own clerverness now. But I will leave you with one final piece of evidence to my own brilliance – I was so smart I repeated 8th grade!

[acciocriativity]

Yule Ball|| Harry Potter

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader // Harry Potter x Reader

Summary: It's been a year since you had a huge crush on Fred Weasley, but you never had the courage to confess it to the redhead. What will change when the Winter Ball takes place at Hogwarts? 

Word Count: 3.2k 

 The fifth year of Hogwarts couldn't be more confusing and crazy, the students from Beauxbatons and the Durmstrang students had just settled in the Great Hall, when the principal made the announcement that it was going to be the joy / despair of all the girls. That's right, with no middle ground. 

- Along with the Triwizard Tournament, the Yule Ball will also take place, just as it is in tradition - he said calmly as always, with a smile on his face. 

 Professor McGonagall explained the details but my mind was already far away, obviously my case is one of despair, not for lack of confidence but for opportunities. There was only one boy I would like to invite, but how would I do that if not more than one word we have already exchanged? I would not like to go with a stranger, a friend at the very least. 

I was already 5 years old at Hogwarts, why haven't I done anything yet? This is easy, two very simple reasons. We are from different houses, as a Ravenclaw I don't have many Gryffindor friends, unfortunately. It is very comfortable to form a social circle restricted to the home itself and I was a shy child, can anyone judge me ??  

I clearly remember the day I saw him the first time, it was the same day that I got my first Gryffindor friend. 

 I was hurrying up the stairs to the first floor, where the library is. It wouldn't be a surprise to anyone, but this time it was more urgent, it was two weeks before the 4th grade exam season and I didn't feel ready for the Arithmancy exam. 

I had barely stepped into the hall when I heard two excited voices talking, I didn't have to look more than once to find out who they were. The Weasley twins had quickly formed their own fame at Hogwarts, the only ones who didn't like them were the targets of their pranks, I still haven't had that bad luck, and probably their Slytherin opponents. 

It was the first time that I had a chance to see them without a circle of people around wanting to buy their limited products or their own friends around, and I didn't imagine what that little moment would do to me.

Although they were identical, one in particular had caught my attention. I didn't know what his name was and I didn't even have time to ask, as they walked to another corridor, opposite where I was. 

It was his warm smile and bright eyes, that enchanted me at that moment and even though neither was for me, I couldn't forget it and I tried. 

Later that day, I was trying to find a specific Arithmancy book when I noticed Angelina, a gryffindor and a year older than me. Difficult not to recognize since she is also popular, being on the Quidditch team but we never really spoke to each other, until that moment. 

- Are you in 5th year ?? I never saw you in any of the classes - I remember her saying looking at my hand, in which I was carrying an advanced potions book.

- Oh no, I like to advance some subjects when I finish studying - I replied calmly with a small smile as I took my book, right next to her head. 

- So are you good at potions? - she asked looking at me and I just nodded before she continued - and could you help me? It's a little difficult to pay attention to the class, when Fred and Jorge are there - she finished with a giggle, as if remembering something. 

From then on, we met at the library when they had no training and during those two weeks we got close enough, but not to the point of mixing our social circles and going out together. 

 I turned to face Angelina, even though she was away she met my gaze and smiled, she knew I felt something for Fred Weasley but I never said how deep those feelings were or she would have managed to help me a long time ago. 

I noticed that she made one of the signs that we invented to communicate when we were far from each other, that one meant that we were going to talk later in my dorm and I just nodded before I started eating. Too bad I didn't notice the attention of a certain redhead, because of my silent conversation with the girl.

 In the months that followed, because Harry's name came out in the Goblet of Fire and the first task was around, the atmosphere became extremely tense within the school and the animosity with the ball cooled. People commented on all sorts of nonsense and I did what I could when something like that happened in my presence, because it bothered me a lot. The whole school was against Harry, basically and I had made it clear that it was ridiculous, even though I didn't know the boy well. 

Because of that, I ended up getting away from some friends who disagreed with me and thought that Potter wanted to get attention again, but the good part is that I ended up spending a lot more time with Angelina in the Gryffindor Common Room, she always told me the password although the Fat Woman didn't like it that much. 

Today is Saturday and one of those days, I left my dormitory early because I had nothing to study and walked unhurriedly through the almost empty corridors. It seems like a rule, teenagers don't leave bed before 9 am. I saw the girl alone in the middle of the Gryffindor table so I walked right over there, sitting next to her. 

- Good morning Angie - I greeted with an excited smile while taking a look at the already full of food table  

- You dreamed of the 10 N.O.M.S. today, didn’t you? - she smiled at me before completing - or was it with a certain someone? 

I felt my face heat up as she laughed at me, the mornings when we are in a good mood usually start with these morning teasing and then we move on to the same topic…

- When are you going to invite Fred to the Ball? You know that when it comes to perceiving feelings, he is slow - she insisted just like every day that I should do something.

- He must have been invited already, It’s almost a month away- I gave her my most common answer, there are some days that I say I would invite him, but that never happened. 

- He is still available but at some point he will be not! Do you really want to see him dancing with another girl? - She looked at me defiantly even knowing the answer.

- If I promise that this time I will ask him to come with me, will you let me eat in peace ?? - I asked, holding her gaze and received a satisfied smile in return. 

 Sometimes I didn't even understand the reason for all this nonsense, at times I just wanted to be able to confess my feelings and if I was rejected, I would just move on. But then I got close to him and couldn't, at least that way I had hope. The gryffindor in me will have the courage today, thanks to Angelina and my stupid promise. 

Gradually the students arrived and among them were our friends. Alicia Spinnet, Dino Thomas, Olivio Wood and Lino Jordan. Soon the trio, Harry, Hermione and Ron came down and then Fred and Jorge with the usual good humor. 

- Good morning girls - they both winked at us at the same time with a smile from someone who’s up to no good.

- Good morning - we answered together but with different reactions, Alícia simply ignored it, I controlled myself not to blush and Angelina just smiled more.

 Fred sat two chairs to the left in front of me and Jorge beside him, there was no way I could talk to him during breakfast and I thanked him for it, but I regretted it soon after.  

- And haven't you became a man yet to ask someone to the Ball, Ron ?? - I heard Fred's super discreet voice, interrupting my conversation with Lino.

 Obviously everyone there turned to pay attention, the teasing between them was always fun, especially in the morning. 

- You didn’t ask anyone too, where's YOUR courage Fred? What are you afraid of ?? - I never had seen Ronald Weasley with such a satisfied smile on his face or an expression so outraged on the elder. 

- I'll show you the courage, look and learn Ronald - he had made a point of getting up and I held my breath when I saw him looking in my direction, it couldn't be ...

- Hey Johnson, do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me? - He asked without realizing my expectations and a piece of my heart breaking after that. 

 She replied an yes after looking at me quickly, I didn't mind her accepting it. They are friends and I already knew that she wanted to go with Jorge, the reason why she had not accepted any invitation until now. I had already thought about what it would be like if this situation happened, in my head it was much worse. 

The next few days followed with little change about Fred, at all times if I could avoid him, I would. Not out of anger or anything, I wanted to take my focus off him. I had declined 2 invitations because I hadn't imagined myself with another guy, and that was going to end. 

Alicia and I had just returned from London, we went to look at some new dress options, as many girls would go to the witch shops nearby. We barely stepped into the Great Hall when Hermione walked out furious and a little upset, she didn't even greet us as she always did.

- What did you do to make her so upset ?? - I asked facing Harry and then Ron, before sitting down next to Harry.

- I just said that she could come with one of us to the Ball - explained the redhead while devouring the food on his plate.

- Now? It’s a month away, I would have been angry too - they both looked at me without understanding and I had to take a deep breath - you don't understand anything about girls, do you?

- She felt like the last option, nobody would like to feel that way, obviously, you should have invited her long before - Ali replied without patience, while the realization seemed to hit their faces. 

 Ron seemed to reflect for 3 seconds before eating again as if nothing had happened, so there were only the three of us left to talk.  

- And your partner Harry? Mcgonagall is going to freak out if you have to open the Ball alone - I commented while getting me some soup. 

- I haven't found the right girl yet ... - he replied a little uncomfortable and looked to the side as if he had remembered something. 

- Not wanting to intrude, but already intruding, you two could go together. Just as friends - she completed as soon as she saw the boy look at us petrified but relaxed shortly thereafter.

- No problem for me, I was thinking about not going, but at least it could be fun - I spoke with a small smile and he nodded. 

 For the rest of the month, I ended up getting closer to him and consequently to the most unbearable couple that ever existed. I love Hermione and Ron, but how can two people be so stubborn? I don't know, it's a mystery but at the same time, it was good entertainment and I managed to disconnect from my feelings for Fred. 

It was getting close to the time to start the Ball and I had barely stopped to think that I would be forced to deal with Angelina and Fred dancing together, even though I had never been jealous of the two before, the scene didn't seem pleasant. 

I took one last look in the mirror analysing my dress, a long red velvet dress with sleeves and a slit up to my thigh that defined my body in the right measure. I was feeling incredibly beautiful the way I was and nothing could ruin my good mood, not even my unrequited crush. 

I agreed to meet my friends near the stairs and there they were, Hermione in a pink pretty dress talking to Vítor Krum further away, Ron was about to explode at any moment and Harry, as usual, seemed to be trying to find an excuse to get out of there and I preferred to help with that. . 

- Hi boys - I said quietly standing on the first step of the stairs and as they had their backs to me, they jumped and I couldn't help laughing.

- You can't come like this and scare others, I almost had a fit… - the redhead put his hand on his heart dramatically, it seems that the hatred has vanished too.

- Everyone will go down the stairs, you should be gossiping in a more discreet place. It's about Hermione again, right? - I asked shamelessly without caring about the complaints about my comment. 

- And why would I waste my time talking about a traitor? - his face went from white to red in a few seconds, it seems that the anger had returned.

- I only know one thing, we can't be late, right Harry ?? In fact, I need to talk to you quickly - I didn't even let him agree and I pulled his arm and walked to a spot nearby without anyone

- Did something happen? - he said while adjusting his glasses and I just denied it with a smile, making him even more confused. 

- I just wanted to give you a break from Hurricane Ronald Weasley but if you want to go back there, I don't mind - I said looking behind his shoulder and there it was, a clear image of the redhead fighting with an innocent student.

- In fact, a few minutes without having to listen to his rudeness is great, not that he's a bad friend, but sometimes it's a little ... too much - he replied with a small smile of thanks.  

 We talked for a few more minutes before Mcgonagall officially announced the start of the party, where we would have to dance first. We had rehearsed a few times, so we weren't ashamed, although I wanted to laugh at the memories that came to mind and I could see the same in Harry's eyes. 

After that moment, the other champions also danced with their partners and then the party really started. I preferred to avoid dancing more than necessary, because that would be shameful but it doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it. 

I was sitting at a table with Harry and Ron because apparently his partner was not very happy, but I decided not to go into that. Until I see Angie approach and place her hand on my bare shoulder.

- Can we talk for a moment?? - She said and by her expression, it seemed to be important. 

 I nodded and as the two continued talking to each other, I preferred not to interrupt and just went with the older girl to a corner with fewer people. 

- Did something happen? - I asked calmly and noticed that she looked towards the direction where Fred and Jorge were with another girl.

- Yes, I already knew it would be a complete mess, since you wanted to come with one person and I with another, but I think you can fix it in time - she said looking back at me.

- I don't know Angie, just with a Time-Turner and a little bit of luck, then I would be able to ask him to come with me. 

- It was wrong but I just overheard him saying something to Jorge, he said he wanted to invite you. I was noticing for a while, I was pretty sure he liked you and I just had the proof - she said with a small smile and then immediately took my hand and continued - I don't want to see you two suffering.

 I barely knew what to say so I preferred to demonstrate it in the best way I could, that is, with a hug even though it wasn't much of a hug most of the time. 

 

- Thank you for telling me but I think I'll be forced to steal your date now - I replied with a small smile and stepped back from her. 

- Someday I'll forgive you for that, but this conversation is for later - she winked at me and walked away to the other side of the party. 

 I took a deep breath and as soon as I looked back in the direction where the twins were talking, I realized that there was no one there anymore and I couldn't help being disappointed. 

- Looking for me, love?? - a voice well known to me spoke at a minimum distance from my back and I immediately turned around.

- Actually, yes, but you came here, so it must be important - I replied with a smile without being affected by his proximity, since it was not uncommon for him to try to frustrate me with this type of provocation.

- Since when is something I have to say unimportant ?? - he spoke in an indignant voice but his smile denounced him - let's go for a walk, what do you think? It’s too full here - he said and then held my hand, how could I refuse such a request? 

 I just nodded and then we left the Hall, walked, still holding hands, to the garden. I am sure that did not fail to pass through the attentive eyes of my friends, but it was not the time to think about that. 

- I know we've only really known each other this year - he started talking and then stopped walking - but I really started to like you a lot - his voice were softer and even a little uncertain. 

- Of course, we all became fast friends - I replied with a satisfied smile, maybe it was mean but I was loving this moment and I didn't want it to end so quickly.

 He looked away and took a deep breath before looking back into my eyes with a lighter expression.

- You're having fun, aren't you? It's pretty funny, isn't it? - He asked and I could see his eyes shine, the kind of glow that appears when he has just made a prank. 

- Yes I am. How could I not be when I left Fred Flirt Weasley frustrated? - I replied holding the desire to laugh, for the situation and the new nickname I invented. 

- I had a much more fun idea, love, you'll like it - he said confidently.

 Before I could ask what it was, one of his hands found my face and the other on my waist, pulling me closer. A second later we were giving our first kiss, the first of many to come.

Harry Potter Masterlist

[redbeardace]

August TAAAP Chat Notes:  Sex Ed

This is a scattered bunch of thoughts and notes on some of the things that were discussed about sex ed in the August TAAAP Pride Chats.  There’s no solid thesis here, but maybe a few conversation starters.  Some of what’s here is a post-chat thought and wasn’t even discussed at all.  This should also be taken as incomplete and not a full overview of what was discussed.  (Notably, it doesn’t include much of what went on in the voice chats.) 

[Cross-posted from Pillowfort.]

Include aces and aros.  Unsurprisingly, one of the main things was that aces and aros should be included in sex ed courses.

Sex ed has gone backwards since the early 90s?  Either I had a wildly advanced program in my schools (in a deeply conservative rural area), or the fallout of Jocelyn Elders and the “abstinence-only” nonsense of the Bush years completely obliterated the usefulness of sex ed.  We had a program that spanned multiple years, starting with a single day vocabulary lesson and “puberty is coming!” warnings in the 5th or 6th grade, through a two week lesson about all sorts of things in 9th or 10th grade health class.  We were told that masturbation and gay people and condoms and oral sex existed, although there were no details about how any of those things worked.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.  But a lot of the people in the chats were talking about their sex ed, and it sounded woefully, frighteningly inadequate.

What is “sex ed”, anyway?  School, teaching the basics?  Information for adults?  Training courses for professionals?

Cover the basics.  The basics are important.  Anatomy, menstruation, common medical issues down there.  Cover what’s “normal” and what should be taken to a doctor.

What about other classes?  How can a math teacher express support?  Hang a flag.  Tackle amatonormativity in story problems.  Discuss it in the staff room.  Point the sex ed teachers at aro/ace resources.  Be out.   Stories about aromantic people read in English class.  Asexual people talked about in history.  GSAs/Pride groups in school that are aro and ace inclusive.

Desire for sex or romance are not universals.  Stop with the “Everyone wants it eventually”, and switch to something more like “a lot of people do, but not everyone, and it’s okay if you don’t.”

Reframe the discussion of “No”.  Too often, in sex ed, it’s all about when you’re “ready”, with the implication that you will be “ready” one day.  And when you’re “ready”, there’s the implication that you’re ready and willing for everything from that point forward.  Like if you say “yes” to a date and you’ve opted in to all the romancey things, say “yes” to sex and you’ve opted in to all the sexy things.  That’s not right.  It should be more focused on what you want to do, and empower people to say “no” to things they don’t want.  Discuss reasons for saying no, include “I just don’t wanna”.  Normalize the permanent “no”.

Look for backdoor opportunities for inclusion.  For example, the new Washington State Comprehensive Sex Ed law requires teaching of sexual orientations and gender identities as listed in the definition used by another section of state law.  So if that other section gets updated to include aros and aces, the sex ed curriculum will also have to be updated.

Connect with the people doing the work.  There are groups who build sex ed programs and lobby for them.  Work with them to include ace and aro topics.

Beware the head-in-the-sand crowd.  There is a very loud, very active anti-sex-ed lobby out there.  In WA, they got the sex ed law put up for a vote. Some of their objections are that affirmative consent goes against their religious teachings, and that although they can opt out their kids from the lesson, they can’t opt out their kids from schoolyard talk, so your kids have to remain ignorant, too.

Fuck you, Kemper Freeman.  Seriously.  Fuck that guy.

How do you accommodate varying levels of interest and aversion, while still providing necessary levels of detail?  The topic of sex ed is a bit of a minefield.  Some people want to know all the things, some people want to know very very little.  Some topics are dysphoria triggers, some topics are aversion triggers, some topics are just not interesting or of any practical use.  There’s a baseline of information that everyone should know, and there’s a level of detail that the interested people should get.  But how do you do that in a classroom setting?  One suggestion was to allow people to freely step outside for certain topics.  Another was to have an interactive lesson, where the student is able to adjust the detail based on their comfort level and interest.  It would start out with a “default” level of detail, but would allow the student to request less detail or more detail for each topic.  The less detail level would still have all of the baseline level information that everyone should know, while the more detail would go beyond a surface level summary.  Likewise, images could be switched between text description, line art diagrams, and actual photos.  

Resources!  Scarleteen, Sexplanations, etc.

Discuss healthy relationships and consent.  Provide practical examples.  Not just how/when to say yes or no, but how to bring up things you want to do or are curious about.  Include queer relationships.   How to ask for what you want.  How to know what you want.  How to say no to what you don’t want.  All relationships, not just sexual or romantic.

Reconsider segregation by gender.  A lot of sex ed is done with a gender split, but does it need to be?  If there is a value to such a split, how can it be made trans and intersex supportive?

Bring up body variations.  There’s a wide variety of genital configurations, so mention them.  Discuss intersex bodies.  Discuss small parts, large parts, asymmetrical parts.  This would likely be an appropriate place to include actual photos, because so many people said that actual photos were only used in the STD scare tactics.

Elaborate on “sex”.  Too often, it’s discussed as just PIV to orgasm and that’s that.  But what about things that don’t involve Ps or Vs or do involve Ps and Vs, but not the I?  What about stuff before and after?  What alternatives are there if you don’t like certain aspects but are fine with others?

Cover everyone.  If there is a separation, each group should cover the same things, at least at some level.  Everyone should come out of sex ed knowing about their own body and its processes, as well as about bodies they don’t have, and their processes.

Don’t “teach” through fear.  STDs are bad, but they’re preventable with caution and mostly treatable in some form or another.  Pregnancy typically isn’t desirable for high schoolers, but here’s a dozen ways to avoid it.  Give direct information, don’t try to terrify people.

Mention pleasure.  Mention the basics of obtaining pleasure, whether alone or with others.  If anyone walks out of a sex ed course of any kind without knowing about the clitoris, it’s a failure.  People should know that most clitoris owners can masturbate, and can experience pleasure from sexual acts, if done the right way..

Dispel myths and lies.  Not everybody wants it.  Vaginal penetration isn’t necessarily going to lead to orgasm.  It’s not supposed to hurt the first time.  You don’t have to have an orgasm.  It’s okay not to know what to do.  “Girls don’t want it.”  “Boys will be boys.”

Toys.  AFAB people don’t have to only use vibrators to masturbate.  AMAB people can use toys.

What is “Attraction”?  And along those lines, what is “Libido”?  What do these things feel like?  How do you know what you’re feeling?  What are these experiences like for different people?

Hygiene.  Give information about keeping various zones clean.  Talk about the results of various activities, partnered or not, and what steps might need to be taken.

Porn is fake.  Watching porn to pick up information about how to do sex is roughly equivalent to watching a crime procedural to learn how to become a cop.  You’ll get a very skewed view of things.  Pleasure isn’t always visible or audible.

Destigmatize it all.  Sex is seen as taboo and secret, and not to be spoken of, and that attitude harms people.  It prevents them from feeling comfortable to bring up important things or ask important questions.  It prevents them from learning things they need to learn.  It forces people into bad situations and mediocre encounters because they don’t know it doesn’t have to be like that.

Teach people how to learn.  Sex is currently a subject fraught with misinformation.  Porn or Cosmo are main sources of information, yet aren’t super accurate.  People should be given tools to know how to find and evaluate the information.

Consent is bigger than the bedroom.  Consent includes touch, jokes, conversations, etc.  It’s anywhere boundaries exist.

More than just cis white male voices.  So much of sex ed is heteronormative, amatonormative, tailored for specific cases, and mired in the ignorance of the past.  Sex ed needs more perspectives.

[hollywooduniversityalumnus]

1. burning glances, turning heads

He really should know better, Margot thought, to expect that his class would be paying attention on a Friday afternoon before the long weekend.

As Professor Hunt, the surliest yet most accomplished educator to roam the halls of Hollywood University, all but threw Lance Sergio out for being extremely obvious about taking excessively filtered selfies during the lecture, she took the opportunity to lean over to Addison, poking her with the eraser end of her mechanical pencil. The blonde, as if being suddenly woken, started, causing her gel pen to make a squiggle just off the doodle she was mindlessly making on the edge of her paper.

“What?” Addison asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Margot shrugged. “I’m bored.”

“I think we’re all bored,” Addison teased. “But at least some of us are more subtle than others.”

She nodded towards the front, where the professor had turned his attentions to Jenni Whitman, whose open laptop screen displayed one of the trashier celebrity gossip websites. Beside her, Bianca Stone surreptitiously slipped her phone into her pocket and bowed her head over her notebook, as though trying to commit the blank pages to memory, and Shae, another of Bianca’s friends, panicked and stuffed her phone in the front of her shirt, making a strange lump in the fabric.

As Jenni, too, packed up and took her leave at his insistence, Professor Hunt returned to the lectern, his jaw tense.

“While I understand that you are all incapable of delaying gratification long enough to pay attention in my class, I maintain my zero-tolerance policy for distractions. It would do the rest of you well,” he gritted out, “to not force my hand any more than it’s already been.” His eyes slowly took in the remaining pupils sitting in the hall. “Do I make myself clear?”

The lecture continued.

As he began a diatribe on romantic comedies, Margot turned back to Addison and gestured for her to look at her notebook. Addison subtly glanced down as she pretended to stretch, reading the message written on the corner of the page in very, very light pencil lead strokes.

Do you think he’s ever even seen a rom com?

Addison smirked and turned the page on her notebook, scrawling her reply in much more perceptible pink glitter ink.

Not on purpose, if at all.

Margot suppressed a laugh at the thought.

Like, maybe he sat through You’ve Got Mail thinking that it was about the postal service?

Or Mystic Pizza being about a magical pizza.

Or Crazy Rich Asians being a biopic.

Or-

“I thought I made myself clear.”

The two girls jumped in their seats, hearts pounding, expecting to find the frowning professor looming over them. Luckily for them, his attention was on Shae, whose poorly hidden phone in her shirt had become quite the spectacle, as the screen lit up behind the thin fabric and an instrumental snippet of a Top 40s hit blared from behind the buttons.

“Out,” Professor Hunt snapped. When Shae didn’t immediately move, he all but yelled, “Out!”

Dear God, she thought, this lecture is never-ending.

She was one of perhaps sixteen students left in the hall. Many others, including Bianca, had either flown the coop during the mandated fifteen-minute break, or were not-so-nicely asked to leave by the increasingly tense professor. She had flirted with the idea of beginning her long weekend early, too, but she knew she was already on thin ice with Hunt (to be fair, when isn’t she?), and she might as well learn something anyway. She didn’t have anything to do or anywhere to be. Unlike many of her classmates, she wasn’t heading home for the long weekend, and her plans for the next four days were most likely going to be a cycle of sleep, catching up on the show Chris recommended, and getting takeout.

“. . . and that is why we're discussing the decline of the romantic comedy, a genre that relies all too often on an unbelievable formula. Miss Sinclair?”

Addison’s head snapped up. “Yes, Professor?”

“Kindly give us an example of a trope commonly seen in romantic comedies. I am assuming you are familiar with them.”

“Y-yes,” Addison said, twirling her fuzzy-capped gel pen with her fingers. “Um, in, um, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, the two leads often fought and got on each other’s nerves but fell in love with each other anyway.”

Professor Hunt nodded. “Thank you, Miss Sinclair. A topical example of an overused trope. How often have you seen the two lead characters spend most of a movie fighting with each other, only to end up together in the end because of some ill-established passion? Far too often, I’d assume.”

As he droned on, Margot reached over and patted Addison’s arm. “Good job.”

The blonde returned the smile, relieved to have survived the encounter. “Thanks, I was dying inside.”

“Real love is nothing like that,” Hunt said, sneering. “Real love, the kind that exists outside of a cinema screen or five-dollar DVD bin, is not a predictable, clearly laden path with a clear and promised conclusion. Expecting a happily ever after in a relationship is naïve at best.”

“Who hurt him?” Addison mumbled to her.

She poked Addison again with her pencil. “Can you imagine someone loving Hunt? Or even dating him?”

“No! It'd be like dating an angry bear. It’d be a miracle if they lived to tell the tale. I heard he's single, unsurprisingly.” Addison shook her head.

“He probably has crazy high standards. Do you think he has a type?” She bit her lip, assessing her professor from afar. Though his modelling days were far behind him, he still maintained a well-kept, impeccable appearance that often made her wonder what he would look like without the constricting suits he wore like second skins. His features were both manly yet delicate, as if the world had taken its sweet time with perfecting his visage. And his jawline . . . sharp enough to cut glass. He was definitely not lacking in looks, talent, or drive, which was what made his being perpetually single all the more intriguing, though his personality made it understandable.

“Yeah, if perfect is a type. Like, someone with a model hot body, a mind as sharp as a stiletto, and a Hollywood career that's skyrocketing.” Addison giggled.

She tapped her lip with the eraser end of her pencil, thinking. “So, a fictional person.”

Addison leaned into her, eyes glimmering with amusement. “I bet it'd be like getting graded all the time. He'd be judging your outfit, insulting your conversation, critiquing your kissing technique! ‘Too much tongue. You call that a kiss? Kindly remove yourself from my sight.’”

She chuckled. “‘You’ve got to do better than that if you want me to feel anything other than complete and utter monotony.’”

“‘I've seen more believable kisses on The Bachelor.’”

The laugh that bubbled out of her was loud enough to capture the attention of the very man they were emulating. His eyes narrowed as he spotted her quickly trying to clamp her mouth shut.

“Miss Schuyler! Is something amusing? Perhaps you'd like to finish off my lecture on the difficulty of realistically portraying love?” he asked.

She straightened in her seat. “Sorry, Professor.”

“. . . And in conclusion, once a genre full of heart, the majority of romantic comedies have descended into farce bereft of true emotion. Class dismissed.” The professor strode over to his desk and began the necessary routine of shutting off the projection screen. As he did, the rest of the class stood up, stretching, and began packing their things away. Excited voices began eagerly discussing their plans for the weekend.

Thank God, Margot thought. The never-ending lecture was over. Let the weekend-

His eyes met hers, a pointed gaze. “Except for you, Miss Schuyler. Come see me. We need to talk.”

. . . Shit.

Addison touched her arm. “Do you want me to stay back, too?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she said, patting her friend’s hand. “You go on ahead. Don’t be late for your bus. I know you’ve been looking forward to seeing your mom.”

Addison grinned. “I’ll text you when I get there.”

“The least you can do,” she teased.

Addison’s smile waned. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on campus for the weekend? My mom said it would be no trouble at all for you to visit.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no, I’ll be fine. With almost everyone going away for the long weekend, I’m going to indulge in using up all the hot water. Maybe even sit at the good table in the coffee shop. Wild stuff like that. Thank you, though.”

“Well, then,” Addison said, smile returning full-force, “I’ll be on my way. Good luck! Hope you don’t get into too much trouble.”

She stood up and stretched her arms over her head. “Don’t worry about little ol’ me. I know how to deal with him.”

Addison nodded and took her leave, one of the last of the classmates to exit the hall. Gathering up the rest of her things, Margot stuffed them into her tote bag and made her way up to the professor’s desk, where he was busy rifling through his own bag and muttering to himself.

“Just one second,” he said, placing a few handfuls of odds and ends from the depths of his bag on the table.

She nodded, more fascinated by the things that he seemingly carried around with him. Of the many things on his desk, she noted a mini Rubik’s cube, a slip of paper with very faded ink that might have been a receipt or a movie ticket once, a cellophane-wrapped green-and-white mint, three expensive-looking pens of various colours and sizes, and a tube of plain blue Nivea lip balm, identical to the one she had in her purse at that very moment. While the label on hers had faded from usage and being flung around inside her bag, his looked brand new.

After brushing those items back into his bag, he placed a stack of papers on the desktop. Among them, a bright slip of paper poked out, much smaller than the rest, and made of a thicker, textured material. Curious, she pulled it out until she could read the tiny lettering.

5th Annual Los Angeles Charity Masquerade. Admit one (1). $250 admission not including fees/taxes.

She’d never been to a masquerade. She imagined they were just like that scene in Labyrinth, with David Bowie and Jennifer Connelly spinning around the room, surrounded by people in grotesque masks that partly concealed their identities. Big poufy dresses and suits with coattails. Drapery and curtains and mirrors. But an LA soiree version of one probably meant champagne by the bucketful and crudités carried around by masked waiters. Perhaps live music, performed by musicians forced into formal wear, and maybe they were even masked as well. Was everyone there, guest or not, required to wear one? Were masquerades that strict? Do people who wear glasses have to-

You’re getting distracted, she told herself.

“A masquerade ball, huh? That sounds romantic.” She leaned against the desk, smirking at him. “And here I thought you were completely against the concept of romance.”

“Only someone delusional looks for love at a charity masquerade ball,” he replied scathingly. “It's a charity event and an obligation. I'm expected to attend, but there'll be no one worth talking to. As usual.”

“No date, huh?”

His eyes narrowed. “A date would require me to spend the entire evening there. I can't imagine anything worse. I'll be leaving as soon as I've made my donation to the cause. But I didn't call you up here to discuss my social calendar, Miss Schuyler. I wanted to talk about your behaviour in class. I thought, after seeing nearly all of your classmates get removed from the hall, you’d know better than to provoke me. I want to make it absolutely clear to you that it is unacceptable to disrupt my lecture. Save your chit chat for your own time, understand?”

She swallowed hard, feeling heat on her cheeks from his gaze. “Yes, Professor.”

He nodded once. “Good. You may go.”

As she left the hall, phone in hand, her heart was thumping in her chest from excitement. But not from the weekend finally starting.

She’d never been to a masquerade, after all.

But first, she’d need a dress. And shoes.

Without her stellar roommate and fashionista friend by her side, she felt entirely overwhelmed as she flipped through the overflowing closet Addi had insisted she make use of. Though she hadn’t told her the whole truth – just that she was attending an event that required formal wear – Addi had been thrilled to break up the boring bus ride with some advice.

“Not too much cleavage,” Addison said, her voice tinny through the phone speaker. “And not short, either. Knee-length or longer.”

“Do you think I’ll need gloves?” she asked. “Like Cinderella?”

Addison hummed. “Maybe. Pack a pair of elbow length white gloves in your bag, just in case. Oh my gosh. What bag are you bringing? It cannot clash. You hear me? Cannot.”

“Addi, I don’t even know what dress I’m wearing.” Margot frowned at her phone, balanced atop a stack of textbooks on her vanity. “I’m standing here in my underwear trying to figure this out. I’m pre-bibbidi-bobbidi-boo here.”

Addison’s laughter rang out of the speaker.

“I’m serious, Addi. Maybe I shouldn’t go.” She bit her lip, thinking of the money she’d spent on a ticket, money that might’ve been better spent. She was lucky that there were even tickets available. But that was beside the point. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

“What’s a bad idea? Having a good time? Attending a charity event? Making career-defining connections? Come on.” Addison giggled. “Maybe you’ll even meet the love of your life there.”

“Right.” She flipped through the racks, eager to find something, anything . . . and then she saw it. A strapless, silvery blue ball gown, tight at the top but not overly cleavage-baring, that flared out at the waist to a full, silky skirt that would definitely conceal whatever shoes she would wear. She pulled it out of the closet and unzipped the clear garment bag to admire it. It was a princess dress if she ever saw one. Turning back to the phone, she quickly requested the voice call turn to a video.

Seconds later, Addison’s tired faced filled the screen. “What is it?”

Brandishing the dress out with a flourish, she ignored that she was standing in little more than a bra and panties as she showed the dress for her friend’s approval.

The gasp she heard confirmed her selection.

“You’ll be so stunning! A real-life Cinderella,” Addison said.

“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly, running her hand over the smooth fabric, already envisioning the makeup look she’d pair with the outfit.

“Except-” Addison narrowed her eyes in her best stern Hunt impression. “If you lose one of my shoes, it would be best to leave the country.”

Her taxi finally reached the front of the line, and a footman waiting on the sidewalk opened the door for her. She stepped out in her beautiful ball gown, giving the footman a grateful smile as he closed the door after her. Taking her time ascending the steps in her heels, she met another footman at the door who, after looking at her ticket and corroborating it with the guest list on a tablet, handed her a mask with ribbons.

She stepped into the hallway leading to the ballroom and found a mirror where she could put it on. Looking at herself in the mirror, she was more than pleased by her last-minute glow-up. As Addison had her closet, she had her vanity, stuffed to the brim with makeup products that she used to make herself look as chic as possible. After adjusting the mask to fit her face, she smoothed a layer of lip gloss over her lined lips and smiled to herself.

With this mask, I could be anyone . . . well, anyone smokin' hot, that is, she thought.

The ballroom was packed despite its tremendous size. Decorated Regency-style, it dripped with decadence, glass, and shine. Gold chandeliers tipped with crystals dangled from ceilings with painted murals, and tables spilled over with decadent food and sparkling drinks in crystal flutes. Famous actors and big names in the industry, though shrouded by masks of varying hues and designs, gossiped at the edges of the room, while couples danced and twirled on the floor. As she envisioned, masked waiters masterfully navigated the room, offering bite-sized treats that made her mouth water just looking at them.

After making her way around the room, taking in the splendor, she came to a stop near a pillar and sighed.

“This is incredible,” Margot said aloud.

“Isn’t it?”

She turned her head, surprised to see a man with a dark blue mask eyeing her from where he sat by the nearby bar.

“Come sit with me and let’s talk about it,” he said. The invitation, though innocuous in its wording, made her uncomfortable.

“Um,” she said. Her mind, which was usually buzzing with quips, did not offer her an out.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he pressed, voice a little too firm and sharp for her liking. “I won’t bite. Come here.”

She swallowed hard at his leery gaze, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “I-”

And then she felt it, a hand circling around her elbow, and she was not alone. She tilted her head up to appraise her saviour, who was looking down at her with a smile. Her saviour, tall and silver-masked, looked and spoke to her as if he knew her.

“There you are.” He led her to the other side of the bar, all the while chattering loudly as though they had come together. “Nearly lost you in this crowd.”

She knew that voice. Knew it quite well, in fact. She’d heard it in lecture halls, offices, in her nightmares and dreams, and in places unexpected.

This was one of the latter now.

He gestured to a pair of empty seats, and she gratefully took one. As soon as she was comfortable, he turned his head to look over at where that man who had been speaking at her sat. Then, he leaned against the bar, standing over the other empty seat, and picked up a half-empty glass, presumably abandoned by him when he came to her rescue.

“You should be careful,” he said sternly.

For a moment, she thought he recognized her, and she prepared for the lecture that would undoubtedly come.

“Even charity events attract the lecherous,” he continued. “You’re very welcome, by the way.” A smirk played on his lips before he took a sip of his drink.

“Thanks,” she said, for she had no clue what else to say.

He nodded once. “Do be careful with yourself. You’re bound to attract some unwanted attention. It would do you well to keep your head clear so that you may avoid future encounters. You can’t expect someone to come to your rescue every single time.”

“Nor do I expect rescue at all,” she replied. “I am no damsel in distress. Though, I guess, I kind of was for a second there, huh.”

He laughed. It wasn’t sarcastic or mocking. A genuine laugh that made him tilt his head back ever so slightly. She’d never heard him laugh like that before, but now that she had a taste, she wanted to hear it again and again. It was so unlike him, the caustic and cold professor she knew. It made him even more attractive.

“At least you’re honest.” He tilted his head at her. “I prefer to be honest.”

“I like that.” Sitting up a little straighter, Margot added, “Honesty's refreshing. One thing I've learned since I've been here, in Hollywood I mean, is that too many people are willing to lie to your face or cheat to get ahead.”

He glanced at his watch. “Is that so?” He killed his drink and then levelled his gaze with hers. “And you’re not one of them?”

“No,” she said, then thought better of it. “Not yet, at least. Not if I can help it.”

“So, you want to get ahead.” He finally lowered himself into the seat beside hers.

He gestured to the bartender for a refill, and she took the opportunity to order herself a drink. The bartender nodded at them and turned away.

“I want to be a household name. A famous actress.”

He leaned forward, close to her. “Here's some more truth for you . . . everyone here wants to be something. But not everyone here is going to succeed.”

Stubbornly, she said, “I will.”

“You're brash, naive, and overly confident. I used to be that way, before. . .” His smirk waned, then disappeared altogether. It was clear he was not mentally in this room anymore.

She wondered what he was thinking about.

The bartender slid his scotch refill to him, then delicately placed her drink on a coaster in front of her. He picked up his glass and took a rather large gulp.

“. . . Ahem. Excuse me. I'm Thomas. And you are?”

Honesty’s refreshing, she had said just moments earlier. Too many people are willing to lie to get ahead.

She truly didn’t want to lie to him, not now. But she also sensed that revealing herself now would mean that she wouldn’t get to keep talking to him like this or hear that laugh.

And, honestly, what good would come out of angering him after he’d been so kind to her?

“Someone who doesn't like to reveal all her secrets.” She smiled coyly, taking a sip from the paper straw in her drink. “It's a masquerade ball, after all.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You don't have to be so coy. I don't need a name to figure out who you are. Or anyone in this room, for that matter.” Turning so that he could assess the crowd around them, he nodded towards different masked guests. “Timothee Chalamet; his hair is distinctive, as is his stature. Charlize Theron; note the regal way she carries herself, much like several of her most notable characters. Adam Driver; tall, kind of awkward gait, a low voice that carries over the crowd.”

“Very impressive, Thomas,” she said, trying out his name on her tongue. It was sort of strange to refer to him so casually, but she’d have to adapt if she wanted to keep this going on.

He took another sip, clearly pleased to be right. “Told you, didn’t I?”

Though she enjoyed the game they were playing, she decided to really test him. “Here’s a harder challenge: do you know who I am?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I've been wondering that the moment you arrived. Something about you is familiar, almost loathsome, yet at the same time, forgive me, attractive.” He tilted his head. “You’re not going to tell me who you are, are you?”

Though her heart was pounding, she kept it cool. “Maybe at the end of the night. Unless you're planning on leaving early. Are you?”

“No.” He broke eye contact with her long enough to get the bartender’s attention, and he gestured for another refill. “No, I’m not.”

At some point, in the midst of their conversation, the music had noticeably gone softer and slower. He finished his drink and sighed, placing the glass onto the countertop, but just as he was about to request another refill, she captured his attention with a hand on his arm.

“We should dance,” Margot said, springing out of her seat. “Care to join me?”

He hesitated, and her glossed lips pouted.

Then, slowly, he rose from his seat, all the while maintaining eye contact with her. He straightened his tie and gave her a smirk.

“Do try to keep up,” he teased, buttoning his suit jacket before offering her his arm. They slipped through the crowd, the guests not dancing parting for them as easily as water. As soon as they reached the dance floor, he took the lead, taking her in his arms and guiding her. She was slow, cautious. He watched her fight her instinct to look at their feet.

“If you're nervous, this dance will be over before it even begins,” he warned, though his grip on her tightened.

She pulled him closer, emboldened by the drink in her system and the fact that he didn’t know who she was, and smiled up at him.

“Do I seem nervous, Thomas?” she asked.

He smiled. “Not at all. I’m surprised. You’re not completely horrible at this.”

She batted her eyelashes. “You say such charming things.”

They both laughed as he whirled her around the room.

She didn’t know how long they’d been dancing for, but she knew they were being watched. The crowd of dancers had thinned considerably since they had first arrived on the dance floor, and now many spectators lined the floor, watching with increasing interest as she and her partner weaved around the other dancers, doing increasingly interesting moves at his lead.

Her heart was pounding, the music was building to a crescendo, and he spun her around the dance floor faster and faster.

Don’t puke, she told herself. Do not do it. Your reputation will not recover. Not with whoever’s in attendance, and certainly not with Thomas.

His voice came from somewhere to her right. “Keep to my tempo, or you'll fall behind.”

He spun her out and away from him.

The world beyond the dance floor seemed as if was moving in slow motion, while she was stuck on fast-forward. She felt like she was one of the fairy toys that spun around and around in the air, aimless and free, before meeting a wall or piece of furniture and clattering to the floor. She braced herself for impact.

But then her hands connected with his again, and the crowd that had gathered to watch the dancers applauded as he pulled her back into his embrace.

“You learn quickly. I wish you were one of my students,” he whispered in her ear.

Her stomach, which had felt so light just moments before, now felt heavy and twisted.

“You’re a teacher,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “I teach at a local university.”

“How . . . nice.” It was the best she could come up with at the moment.

After she had become too dizzy from the spinning, he escorted her off the dance floor with an amused smile. He led her through the ballroom and out onto a private balcony cordoned off by a thick dark velvet curtain. Taking her hand, they stepped closer to the railing, into the cool evening air.

After giving her a long look, he let go of her hand and slowly removed his mask. The silver-lined blue barrier fell away to reveal him. He looked even more handsome up close, with a shy smile on his lips and the bright light from a single lantern hanging above them illuminating his debonair features.

“Disappointed?” he asked.

She took a deep breath, stunned by seeing him so unguarded, and even more handsome up close. “Not at all.”

The ocean waves below were muted by her heartbeat. Above them, she noted the sun setting, the sky becoming an ombre canvas of oranges, reds, and pinks. It was truly a stunning sight, but her gaze kept coming back to him. Still smiling, he reached out and took her hands in his.

His voice was husky, low. “You are definitely the best part of the night. I wasn't expecting to meet someone like you. I can sense something about you, a connection . . . I never thought I'd feel this strongly about someone I just met, but I can't seem to stop myself.”

She felt as though she was not breathing. As if she might never breathe again.

Moving even closer, he circled his arms around her waist, tilted her head up, and leaned in, eyes closing just before they made contact.

She was surprised by how sweetly he kissed her, how delicately he held her, as though she would slip away in the faintest breeze. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer to him until they were nearly inseparable. She thought she could hear fireworks somewhere, and wondered if she was only imagining them, but when they finally pulled back from the kiss, she saw flashes of colour illuminating his face in vibrant hues.

“Thomas,” she said breathlessly.

And then his mouth was on hers again, pulling her closer still, until his back was against the wall, and her hand was on the back of his neck, holding him to her. She felt his fingers on her back, just above the silk of the strapless dress, and she shivered and pressed herself tighter to him.

“Please,” he whispered raggedly once they separated again. “I have to know who you are.”

Margot stilled.

He reached around her and began tugging on the ribbons of her mask. She watched him closely, letting him untie the knots, savouring what very well may be the last moment she would have with him like this. 

The mask fell away from her face, and she watched him recognize her, watched his eyes widen and face twist in betrayal and anger before he stepped back and pressed a hand against his mouth in horror. Her blood ran cold as his eyes narrowed and his expression hardened to one of complete disdain.

“Margot? How - how dare you?” he gasped. “You – you – I cannot believe this! You lied to me! You deceived me! You seduced me! How could you?”

His rejection, though expected, pained her in ways she couldn’t even describe. As though his words were branding irons, burning his hatred into her flesh.

“You’re the last person I wanted to see behind that mask,” he spat. “You, of all the people in the world.”

He kept hurting her, hurting her, like he didn’t care. And perhaps he didn’t, now that he knew the truth.

“I can’t believe I - Dear God, I kissed a student.” He leaned back against the wall, forcing himself to take deep breaths to keep himself steady.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she watched him denounce her in every way possible. Even though he’d bragged about being able to identify anyone, he didn’t expect her, didn’t even cross his mind to guess her, and for some reason it hurt her more than anything else.

“Some part of you might’ve known it was me,” she said indignantly. “You were bragging that you-”

He let out a caustic laugh at that. “Why would I want you to be someone I despise? Someone I don’t respect? I’m disgusted with you and myself.”

And that was all she needed to hear.

Pushing past him, she covered her face – and the tears streaking down them – as she rushed out of the gala and into the night.

The taxi ride back to the dorms was awkward, mostly because she spent the entire ride sniffling, trying to hold back her tears, and using up the Kleenex the driver kept a box of by the rear windshield. After tipping him, she sprung out of the taxi and didn’t stop running until she was safely back in her room.

It was there that Margot allowed herself to fully break down. In that beautiful princess dress, she flopped onto her bed and sobbed, hugging herself tightly, letting out all the anger and frustration and pain that she felt at being so heavily and heartlessly rejected by him. She cried for the way he looked at her. Sobbed at the beautiful moments they shared that were now tainted by the conclusion of the night. She ached for what could have been and wept for her naivete.

A part of her knew that there was no way anything could’ve come from it. But she’d let herself fall into the fairy tale, accepting him as her stand-in prince for the evening, and felt charmed by their conversing, their somewhat playful banter, and the compatibility in their dancing skills. And the kisses they shared . . .

Though her chest and throat ached from crying, if she closed her eyes tight enough, she could still feel his mouth against hers, languid and sweet in its kiss.

There was something there. She knew it.

It hurt her to know that, even if he sensed something too, he would never acknowledge it.

Twenty minutes away from the Hollywood U dorms, Thomas Hunt sat on his bed, still in his suit from the masquerade, drinking scotch straight from the bottle. Two pairs of masks lay beside him, one slightly more rumpled than the other from its owner stepping on it as she ran from the private balcony.

Setting the bottle down on the bedside table, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing himself to think back to the beginning of it all, pushing past the haze the alcohol left in his head.

He’d spotted her the moment she walked in and had kept an eye on her since she began making her way around the ballroom. And, from the sounds of the men sitting close by him, he was not the only one who had noticed her.

The dress she wore made her ethereal, like she’d stepped out of a dream. The shiny silk that hugged her frame before flowing to the floor, coupled with her demure yet entrancing makeup and the awed look in her eyes from behind her mask, set her apart from the rest.

He took a large gulp of his drink and loosened his tie.

She got closer, and one of the wolves made their move.

As if by an unknown force pulling him forward, he found himself walking up to her, his mind struggling to catch up with his actions as he offered her a way out of the clearly unwanted interaction.

“There you are.” He led her to the seat he had previously occupied and was pleased to find that one of the men had taken flight upon seeing them interact. She sat down and looked up at him curiously, as if wondering why he had saved her from being potentially preyed upon.

“You should be careful,” he said. “Even charity events attract the lecherous. You’re very welcome, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

He knew that voice. The sincerity of the gratitude, tinged with sarcasm at having to reply at all.

She seemed not to have recognized him. He wondered how long it would be before she did. Though the mask concealed some of her features, with his close proximity he was quick to identify her by other things that gave her away, like her high cheekbones and dark tresses she’d pulled into a half-up hairdo and, now, her distinctive voice.

He felt tempted to call her out on it and send her on her way home, but at the same time, he wanted to know where this would go. Revealing what he knew would mean that he wouldn’t get to keep talking to her like this.

And it was a masquerade ball, after all.

[lovemesomesurveys]

How many best friends do you have? One.

Have you ever lied to any of them? Yes.

Are you more confrontational or avoid-problems-at-all-costs? I definitely avoid more than actually dealing with problems.

Are you pregnant? Definitely not.

When's the last time you screamed? I’m not really one to scream. 

Do you know any foreign languages? I know some Spanish.

What color is you bookbag? I don’t have a book bag anymore.

Do you own DC shoes or Etnies? Not currently, but I did in high school.

Who is your favorite teacher? My 4th and 8th grade teacher, Mr. McG. What about least favorite Two of the math professors I had in community college. They were horrible.

How many times have you read Twilight? I read each of the books just once.

Do you know anyone named Basil? No.

What perfume do you wear, if any? None currently. I haven’t worn perfume in awhile.

What was the last word you wrote down? I don’t recall.

Who did you see at lunch today? I’m not in school and I don’t have a job, but I probably won’t see my family here at home at lunchtime cause I’ll likely sleep through lunch.

Do you have a nickname? Steph and Sis.

Do you know anyone that spells their name the same way as you? I’ve known a few Stephanie’s that also spelled it the same way.

What are you doing this weekend? Nothing out of the ordinary.

How long have you had your myspace? Myspace died over a decade ago, but I had mine from like 2005 to early 2009.

Do you have AIM? AIM died as well back in 2017.

Is there a word that you just can't spell? Onomatopoeia is always a challenging one for me. <<<

Do you shop and K-Mart? Our K-Mart closed quite a long time ago. I don’t think there are any left now, are there?

Do you know your dad's birthday? Yes, he just had his birthday last weekend.

I say Ahoy, you say...? Arrr, matey? I feel like this is the only reasonable response. <<< lol yeah I got nothin’ else.

Where did you get the shirt you are wearing? Hot Topic.

Have you ever learned all the words to a commercial song? Yeah, several. That’s what those sneaky commercial jingles are meant to do.

How many piercings do you have? Just my earlobes.

Do you have good posture? *Me, currently sitting like a pretzel* Oh yeah.

Are you good with kids? Kids get overwhelming and can be annoying lol. I’m not around kids often, though.

What was the last thing you said? “Goodnight.”

What is the oldest someone has guessed you are? People guess I’m younger than I am.

What was your favorite movie as a kid? I’ve always loved Disney animated movies. <<<

What was the scariest thing that happened today? Nothing as of now. Hopefully nothing will.

Where did your parents get the idea for your name? My dad said there was some character on a show he liked in the 80s named Stephanie and he liked the name. When I was born, my parents both agreed that it was fitting for me.

Are you right or left handed? I’m right handed.

What is your favorite place to get pizza? It’s a local place. What is your favorite type of movie? Horror, psychological thriller, superhero, sci-fi and fantasy, action, adventure, rom-coms... I like variety. 

Name three things you want to do before you die. I’ve answered this a few times as of late.

Do you keep a journal or diary? You’re looking at it.

Have you ever had champagne? Yeah.

Do you wear lip gloss? I haven’t in several years.

Where did you get the shoes you have on? I’m not wearing shoes right now.

What color is your light switch cover? White.

When you were younger, what did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be a teacher.

What is the closest red thing to you? My hamper. Are you allergic to anything? Tangerines and seaonal allergies.

What was your mom's maiden name? I’m not sharing that.

Do you own any boxed sets of DVDs? I have a few I Love Lucy boxsets and one of The Dick Van Dyke Show.

What was your favorite Christmas present last year? All of them.

Are you planning on living anywhere besides where you live now? Someday, hopefully in the not so distant future. My family and I very much want to move.

Find the book closest to you. Turn to page 38. Type line 13. Nah.

What is your favorite fruit? Bananas.

Is your name Rebecca? Nope.

Have you ever worn pantyhose on your head? No.

Do you want to adopt kids? If so, where from? I don’t want kids.

How many pirates do you know? I don’t know any.

What has been your favorite age so far? Childhood ages.

Does it bug you when people use asterisks to show what they are doing? No. I do that sometimes. I did that in this survey, actually.

What are you going to study in college? I majored and got my BA in psych.

Do you have a dog? I do.

How about a cat? No.

What color is your hair naturally? Dark brown.

If you've seen the Twilight movie, did you notice Stephenie Meyer in it? Yeah.

Did you read Amelia Bedelia as a kid? Aw yeah, I loved those books.

What was the last song you sang? I don’t remember at the moment.

Have you ever been in a choir? In elementary school.

Quick! Think of a word that starts with M. Maruchan (my favorite ramen brand).

Do you like Chinese food? I like some, but it’s not my favorite. Like, it’s not something I crave or have often.

Do you own any Coach purses? Nope.

Who is your #1 myspace friend? --

What's the last thing you regret doing? Meh.

Do you have a good relationship with your parents? Yes.

Showers: morning or night? At night.

Do you wear make-up? I haven’t the last few years.

In your opinion, are interracial marriages ok? Um, yes?

Do you still sleep with a stuffed animal? I have a few that sit on my bed.

Do you say I love you to just anyone? No, I don’t throw those words around.

What color are your eyes? Brown.

Quote a line from your favorite song. I have a lot of favorite songs.

Are you homeschooled? I was briefly homeschooled in the 5th and 6th grade due to having to spend months recovering after surgeries. My 5th and 6th grade teachers actually came to my house a few times a week.

What are you trying to change about yourself? Nothing at the moment, though there’s a lot I should be working on.

How often do you check your myspace? I haven’t checked it in over a decade.

What embarrassed you today? Nothing so far, but it’s only 6 in the morning.

If you went to New York City today, what would you do? I wouldn’t want to go right now cause of the pandemic, but I’d love to go someday and see all the sights.

Have you ever considered colored contacts? No, contacts freak me out. I can’t bring myself to even try putting them on.

Do you have an accent? If so, what is it? Apparently we all do, but it’s weird for me, a Californian, to think of myself as having one. It’s not distinctive or recognizable. Like, I don’t think someone would know I was from here just from hearing me talk, ya know?

Coke or Pepsi? Coke.

Have you ever liked someone younger than you? Just by a year.

Who is the most embarrassing person in your family? Me.

Finish the sentence. I have lost my faith in ... Myself.

Does it bother you when people exaggerate? It depends. I know I can do that as well, though.

Have you ever hurt someone you love? Not intentionally, but yes. Who was your first celebrity crush? Aaron Carter.

Who will most likely repost this? @lovemesomesurveys, probably. Lol. <<< Yep! haha.

If you had to choose, would you rather be deaf or blind? That’s hard. 

Are you bored? No.

Do you wear your hair up or down? It’s always just up in a messy bun.

Off to find another survey, aren't you? Maybe. I’m tired, though. 

[dutifullylazysalad]

Literacy Libraryguided Reading 101

Literacy Libraryguided Reading 101 5th

Reading Literacy Worksheets

Literacy Libraryguided Reading 101 Lesson

What every teacher should know

Feb 6, 2018 - Explore Lauren McGlone's board 'Literacy - Library', followed by 361 people on Pinterest. See more ideas about classroom library, reading classroom, classroom organization.

Reading 101: A Guide to Teaching Reading and Writing

Literacy Centers 101: Pocket Chart Center Day 3 of my summer vacation and what am I doing??? Well, I did have a wonderful time today at Centre Island with my husband, kiddies and dear friends of ours.

Emergent Literacy Reading 63 IV. Emergent Literacy Writing 79 V. Mathematics 87 VI. Science 101 VII. Social Studies 107 VIII. Fine Arts 113 IX. Physical Development 117 X. Technology 122 Appendices 124.

The Certification Exam for Educators of Reading Instruction (CEERI) Teachers who complete the Reading 101 modules will learn about critical skills for proficient reading and best practices that support students’ acquisition of these skills.

In this book we have an English 101 class explaining what “literacy�� means to them and the way this word has gained meaning as they have grown older and gone through many experiences. The personal stories that are shared within these pages reflect where reading and writing started for each student and the way that their literacy journey.

Reading 101 is a collaboration with the Center for Effective Reading Instruction and The International Dyslexia Association.

Learn the definitions of phonological awareness and phonemic awareness — and how these pre-reading listening skills relate to phonics.

Phonological awareness and phonemic awareness: what's the difference?

Phonological awareness refers to a global awareness of the sound structures of speech and the ability to manipulate those structures. Phonological awareness is an umbrella term that encompasses both basic levels of awareness of speech sounds, such as rhyming, alliteration, the number of words in a sentence, and the syllables within words, as well as more advanced levels of awareness such as onset-rime awareness and full phonemic awareness.

Phonemic awareness is the most advanced level of phonological awareness. It refers to a child’s awareness of the individual phonemes — the smallest units of sound — in spoken words, and the ability to manipulate those sounds.

Phonological awareness (PA) involves a continuum of skills that develop over time and that are crucial for reading and spelling success, because they are central to learning to decode and spell printed words. Phonological awareness is especially important at the earliest stages of reading development — in pre-school, kindergarten, and first grade for typical readers.

Explicit teaching of phonological awareness in these early years can eliminate future reading problems for many students. However, struggling decoders of any age can work on phonological awareness, especially if they evidence problems in blending or segmenting phonemes.

How about phonological awareness and phonics?

Phonological awareness refers to a global awareness of sounds in spoken words, as well as the ability to manipulate those sounds.

Phonics refers to knowledge of letter sounds and the ability to apply that knowledge in decoding unfamiliar printed words.

So, phonological awareness refers to oral language and phonics refers to print. Both of these skills are very important and tend to interact in reading development, but they are distinct skills; children can have weaknesses in one of them but not the other.

For example, a child who knows letter sounds but cannot blend the sounds to form the whole word has a phonological awareness (specifically, a phonemic awareness) problem. Conversely, a child who can orally blend sounds with ease but mixes up vowel letter sounds, reading pit for pet and set for sit, has a phonics problem.

Dr. Louisa Moats explains to a kindergarten teacher why it is critical to differentiate between the letters and sounds within a word when teaching children to read and write.

Reading 101 is a collaboration with the Center for Effective Reading Instruction and The International Dyslexia Association.

What are the key critical reading skills, and how do we use them to comprehend? And why does background knowledge matter?

This section presents my latest thinking on comprehension with The Comprehension Process Staircase as a visual aid.

(Illustration by Sandy Gingras, whose Website is here.)

Literacy Libraryguided Reading 101 5th

Here's an important essay on why background knowledge matters: 'There's No Such Thing as a Reading Test' in The American Prospect by E.D. Hirsch and Robert Pondiscio (June 13, 2010)

Here are two video training modules that explain key topics on this page:

Comprehension Process MODULE:

This 23-min SELF-PACED video explains The Comprehension Process Staircase and how to use the Quadrant Analysis Approach to images (reinforcing the comprehension process with visual analysis).

For more resources to support your work around comprehension, please check out the following:

TLC Website “Comprehension 101” page--lots of tools to download! And you can show students the Comprehension Process Staircase!

TLC Blog post on Quadrant Analysis--a detailed explanation of how to teach the Quadrant Analysis approach (which is also explained in the video)

Here's the FREE link to the Comprehension Process Module PowerPoint.

***

This 20-min SELF-PACED video explains the four key critical reading skills (paraphrasing, inference, vocabulary in context, and summarizing/inferring main idea) and how to teach them. NOTE: Watch The Comprehension Process MODULE before this one.

For more resources to support your work around key critical reading skills, please check out the following:

TLC Website “Comprehension 101” page--lots of tools to download!

TLC Website 'Analyzing Literature' page--ditto!

Here's the FREE link to the 4 Key Critical Reading Skills Module PowerPoint.

***

Here are the 4 key critical reading skills:

SKILLWHAT IT LOOKS LIKE AND WHAT IT ENTAILSTESTING CODE WORDS PARAPHRASING

(AKA Literal Comprehension)

“The man fell down.”-> “He collapsed.”

Paraphrasing means “translating literally” or “putting something in your own words.” This requires you to:

Unpack vocabulary (attack roots; use prior knowledge and context clues).

Unpack syntax and grammar (unpack clauses and phrases; pay attention to punctuation).

Draw inferences from idioms.

NEW: For a useful strategy, seeHow to Paraphrase-3rd grade Practice, How to Paraphrase-MS Practice, How to Paraphrase-HS Practice. For tips on how to create critical reading questions, see How to Create Critical Reading Questions: A Recipe.

See also Rewordify.com, a powerful, free, online software that intelligently simplifies difficult English, for faster comprehension (IN OTHER WORDS, it paraphrases for you).

Facts

In other words

According to the story/passage

What does this mean?

Plot-related

Paraphrase

INFERENCE

(AKA Extended Reasoning)

“The man fell down.”-> “He must have been sick.”

Inference entails drawing a conclusion, making a prediction/guess, or figuring something out. To do this, you need facts/information, and you need to ask questions about the given information. See the comprehension process described below for more explanation.

NEW:Paraphrasing and Inference Organizer AND Quotations to Paraphrasing and Inference in the Download Zone will help students practice these skills. Also check out Character Traits: Quote and Explain and Question-Inference-Evidence & Explanation ORGANIZER, Question-Inference-Evidence & Explanation ORGANIZER MODEL, and Question-Inference-Evidence & Explanation ORGANIZER MODEL LESSON PLAN

Here's a fun way to invite students to apply their inference skills: Read 'The Conversation Piece' by Ned Guymon (which originally appeared in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine in 1950) and figure out what is going on in this dialogue.

Infer

Suggest

Conclude

Because/why

Most likely

Probably

VOCABULARY IN CONTEXT“They’re not interested in being diverted from their direction with alternative routes.” The word “diverted” in this context means

A) amused B) less experienced C) taking the same route D) sent in a different direction

Vocabulary in context requires you to infer meaning of words using the context and your prior knowledge.

What does ____ mean in this context?

Based on the passage, what does ____ mean?

NOTE: At least one distractor will use an alternative meaning of the word in question. In this example, “A” is the distractor. FINDING MAIN IDEA/ARGUMENT

(AKA Summarizing)

The main idea of this passage is

The yearly festival in Pamplona, Spain, always includes the Running of the Bulls.

Running alongside the bulls as they are moved from the corral to the bullring in Pamplona, Spain, has become an exciting and dangerous sport.

The bravest runners carry newspapers with which they touch the bulls as they run through the streets.

The Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain, has been going on for about three hundred years.

Finding the main idea/argument, AKA summarizing, requires you to infer the key message(s) from the text. Your ability to do this is based on how well you are able to paraphrase, infer, and determine vocabulary meaning from context. Also, you have to understand the difference between ARGUMENT and EVIDENCE. See the comprehension process described below for details.

After reading the article/passage/story…

The central idea

The theme

This passage is mostly about

The author would probably agree

The best summary

How do we use these skills to comprehend? See below. Start at the bottom.

INFERENCE(S) -> EXPLANATION

­

Draw new inferences and generate more explanations. These join your prior knowledge/skills.

??? + PRIOR KNOWLEDGE/ SKILLS

­

Ask more questions… MORE “TEXT”

+

Paraphrase, etc. This “text” may confirm or challenge your prior knowledge/previous inferences.

FOR EXAMPLE: If the next sentence says, 'He had had a fever all day,' your prior inference is confirmed. If, however, the next sentence is 'He should've bought the shoes with velcro straps,' you would correct your incorrect prior assumption/inference.

INFERENCE(S)

-> EXPLANATION

­

Draw inferences in response to your questions, and support them with explanations. These infererences and explanations join your prior knowledge/skills. FOR EXAMPLE: Given no additional information about the man who collapsed (no mention of shoelaces or attackers) and knowing that healthy people are generally able to stand up without falling down, you might infer that he fell down BECAUSE HE WAS SICK. NOTE: You will continue to think this until new information challenges your thinking.

??? + PRIOR KNOWLEDGE/ SKILLS

­

Ask questions based on paraphrasing/translation and your prior knowledge/skills.

FOR EXAMPLE: Given the case of the falling man, you might ask, 'WHY did he collapse?' You might recall prior instances of seeing people tripping over shoelaces, fainting, or being knocked down.

­

YOU APPLY IT/

THEM TO

“TEXT.”

^ ^

PARAPHRASE: Put the “text” in your own words. NOTE: “Text” could be almost anything: words, pictures, or a situation (e.g., reading the defense on a basketball court).

Unpack vocabulary.

Unpack grammar/syntax.

INFER from idioms.

FOR EXAMPLE: Given the text 'The man fell down,' you could paraphrase this as 'He collapsed.' For a useful strategy, see How to Paraphrase-3rd grade Practice,How to Paraphrase-MS Practice, How to Paraphrase-HS Practice in the Download Zone.

YOU HAVE

PRIOR KNOWLEDGE/ SKILLS.

^ ^

Start here.

You approach the 'text' with your prior knowledge, which includes:

Previous experiences

Context

Texts read/academic content knowledge

Knowledge of conventions (genre, grammar, syntax)

NOTE: If your 'prior knowledge' is incorrect, it will affect your ability to process the 'text.'

FOR EXAMPLE: If you believe that 5 times 5 is 30, then when faced with a math word problem requiring the multiplication of 5 x 5, you will not solve the problem correctly.

Reading Literacy Worksheets

For more information on strategies for teaching the 4 key critical reading skills, see Reading Comprehension Strategies Overviewin the Download Zone. For a 'Sample LESSON PLAN to LABEL CRITICAL READING QUESTIONS,' see MS English Lessons & Units. Want to review the FOUR CRITICAL READING SKILLS (paraphrasing, inference, vocabulary in context, and summarizing/inferring main idea) and teach your students how to identify test questions that deal with these skills? Check out this Sample LESSON PLAN TO LABEL CRITICAL READING QUESTIONS and HANDOUTS for the lesson. Also, see READING Home Page for other helpful subsections.

Sometimes, to demonstrate comprehension, we want students to explain quotations. Check out the Explanatory Quote Response Organizer and Explanatory Quote Response Organizer MODEL.

For additional excellent resources on reading instruction (esp. nonfiction text support), even if your state doesn't use PARCC assessments, check out the PARCC Prep page.

Literacy Libraryguided Reading 101 Lesson

IN THE DOWNLOAD ZONE for Comprehension 101:

[teamkrissy]

Yesterday I was thinking about how in 5th grade I had just decided to opt out of homework. We hadn't learned how averages worked yet, and my teacher was trying to explain it to me. He had kept me in class during recess so we could talk about it. You see, all those missing assignments were adding zeros to my grade. But, I said, adding zeros adds nothing and my grade should stay the same without them. No, they were bringing my grade down. But I got A's on all my in class assignments and A's on all of my tests. What were the tests for, if it didn't show that I learned everything despite the homework? He said the tests were supposed to come after the homework, the homework was supposed to show that I was doing the work to learn. But I did all the work in class and I had stuff to do at home (taking care of the house and the kids and myself everyday while my parents worked) and anyway my parents never had to bring home homework, why did I have to do extra just because I was a kid? He let me go to recess then and opted to talk to my parents about how THEY should be the ones taking care of the house and the kids after work so I could have time to do homework, but that just got me in trouble with them and didn't change anything else for me. I still shirked homework as often as possible and continued to get A's on all in school work and floated by on C final grades until I could finish middle school. All my teachers thought I was very bright but lazy. In highscool I got to take classes where I cared about the homework, writing essays about topics I was interested in, building a photography portfolio, extra readings in social sciences. We really are failing our kids by treating them all the same in the early grades.

A Twitter Thread from David Bowles:

[Text transcript at the end of the screenshots]

I’ll let you in on a secret. I have a doctorate in education, but the field’s basically just a 100 years old. We don’t really know what we’re doing. Our scholarly understanding of how learning happens is like astronomy 2000 years ago.

Most classroom practice is astrology.

Keep reading

[thepointofthestory]

Pressure Release Valve

I’m starting this blog as a way to release some of the pressure I’m experiencing.  A journal to help me process what’s going on and deal with it.  I process verbally a lot, which is good, but I can’t afford a therapist right now so I’ve been leaning heavily on friends - and they’re amazing for listening to me, but, I just keep going over the same shit again and again and they have to be getting tired of me.  I can’t vent on Facebook anymore - because that’s just so fraught.  Anonymous venting onto Tumblr seems like it’s worth trying.   So, here we go - first real post.  This is some background about one of the topics that’s got me deeply wound.  

My father is an elderly man.  He is 71 years old with Type 2 Diabetes, Severely Reduced Kidney Function, and Moderate to Severe Sleep Apnea. 

A Quick Medical Overview about 15 years ago my dad was in a long term relationship with a woman and was living in her home.  During that period he was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes and, because he snores to wake the fucking devil, she made him do a sleep study and he was diagnosed with Moderate to Severe Sleep Apnea and given a CPAP machine.   About 4 years ago my father’s kidney’s failed.  He had a UTI and went in for a contrast dye test for some other issue, and, the combination of those things plus my dad’s unchecked Type 2 Diabeties (and very high blood sugar levels) made his kidney’s throw up their hands and go “Fuck it, we’re done!” 

He spent THREE FULL WEEKS in the hospital.  At first trying different treatments to see if they could “reboot” my dad’s Kidneys, then, after a day or two doing Dyalisis and getting his bloodwork stabalized.  Three full weeks.  And he nearly died.  

He was released to Hospice/Rehab care where they assessed his abilities and capabilities.  They recomended a walker.  Set up on-going out-patient Dyalisis treatments.  Literally helped him get back on his feet.  The Rehab center was wonderful and recomended that he move to a facility with nursing staff.  Not that he go into a “Home” or Hospice care, just... a place with medical staff on hand.  Someone to help him manage his diet and medications.  He refused.  Because he’s a grown man, see. 

THREE days later he called me at 2 am hysterical.  Utterly freaking out.  At the time I had a 5 month old baby and I was awake when he called because I was nursing my son.  But also I lived an hour and a half away from him and could not understand what he was saying or what was going on.  I was sleep deprived.  I hung up on him.  My sister ended up calling an ambulance to check on him, which was good, because his blood sugar had crashed out so low he was having a delustional episode.  

He went back to the hospital.  He got stabalized again and relased to go home within 48 hours, but, with the caveat that he take a Diabetes 2 education class.  I agreed to go with him to the classes - which were at a location close to his house.  So I drove an hour and a half to pick him up, sat through an hour of class, drove him home, made him fucking dinner and then drove an hour and a half back home with breasts that were, at that point, painfully full of milk - because there was no possible time to pump in that whole mess of activity. 

The course was 5 classes long, after the 4th class we got into an argument about how he couldn’t just eat McDonalds all the time anymore.  Because the class had focused on how fast food was an especially bad choice to make for Diabetics who have other health issues.  The teacher had specifically pulled up the nutritional information for a BASIC McDonalds Hamburger and talked about all the reasons why it was bad for blood sugar, even though - yes, there was a high protein count, there were all these added sugars.  Our argument began by me basically saying “Now that someone else has said it, will you please stop doing this?”  The argument ended when he OPENED THE PASSENGER DOOR OF THE CAR WHILE IT WAS IN MOTION AND THREATENED TO THROW HIMSELF OUT.

I had to pull the car over, get out, shove him back into the car (as he wasn’t able to right himself) while he hit me in the shoulders and threw a tantrum like a toddler about how all the women in his life have ever done is screw him over. I didn’t go to the 5th class.  I’m not sure if he did.  And I didn’t talk to him or deal with him for months. 

During those months my sisters (both younger) discovered that he was so deeply in debt that he was going have all his utilities shut off and to be evicted from his apartment if he was late on another payment.  So, they took over his finances.  Like, litterally took them over.  My youngest sister (who we’ll call Teri) is his Trustee for his social security payments, and, all his money goes into an account that she has access too but that he does not.  My middle sister (Who we’ll call Beth) now manages the day to day bill paying and distribution of the account, including putting money weekly onto a pre-paid debit card that my dad has access too for shopping and miscelaneous expenses. 

About six or nine months passed and things had evened out a little.  My father was coming out to see my son on a fairly regular basis.  I was ignoring him to the best of my ability.  Working. Raising my son.  Ignoring.   And then I got a call, while I was at work, from my father.  He needed to go to the ER, he said.  To schedule a surgery apointment.  Huh?  He had a wound on his big toe that wouldn’t heal.  This happens with Type 2 Diabetics, so it wasn’t a surprise. I was already aware of the wound and that he was seeing doctors about it.  He had assured me that he was taking care of the wound and he was having apointments reguarly to have it dressed and assessed, so, I hadn’t done any digging into it.  Apparently his doctor had recomended surgery and told him that he should go to the ER in the morning and get scheduled for a surgery apointment... which doesn’t make any sense at all.  That’s ... not how that works? 

So, I took a break at work and called Kaiser.  I spoke to someone who read me the visitation notes from the doctor.  Basically, the doctor had come to the conclusion that the tissue was damaged enough that it needed to be abraded and recomended that my father be transported to the hospital and admitted and scheduled for surgery that night.  My dad, who was STILL paying off the ambulance bills from his last two hospital stays refused to go.  He said he’d drive himself in the morning.  His doctor recomended against that and suggested that, if he didn’t want to be transported via ambulance he could get a family member to pick him up.  He refused.  The doctor made a note in the after visit information that this course of action could result in serious issues up to and including DEATH and that my father was refusing/leaving the office against medical advice. 

So.... I got a friend who drives Uber to pick my dad up at his apartment and take him to the closest ER.  I met them there.  There is a whole story associated with this pick up and my friend had to get his car detailed afterwards.  Whee. 

When I got to the ER they had my dad laid out in a hospital gown and had done some initial blood testing and my dad was waiting in a curtianed area.  His blood sugar was all out of whack.  He had an infection in his toe that threatened to spread to his blood - and if you don’t know, blood poisoning is fucking deadly.  They were running fluids and antibiotics via IV.   The toe was necrotic.  Unsaveable.  They needed to remove it ASAP.  It was a good thing I had gotten him in tonight, the doctor told me.  If he had waited until morning he might have fallen asleep and never woken up.  

They ended up removing his big toe from the first knuckle to the tip, and wrapping it up.  He went back to Hospice/Rehab and spent another 3 weeks learning how to use a cane to help him walk.  He was instructed to use the cane all the time, but especially while he was recovering from surgery.  He never used it, still doesn’t.  

Another six months pass.  It’s December now his toe has never healed from surgery.  Refusing to use the cane has put too much pressure on the toe and it won’t heal.  Being diabetic makes it important that he keep it clean and dry, but, he continues to stand up to pee ... and misses the toilet regularly.  So... he’s peeing on his open wound and not changing the bandage or cleaning the wound.  

And, so, there’s a need for a second surgery.  This time they take the whole toe.  And it’s back to rehab.  Again.  Where he ends up pushing for release early - and ends up getting authorized to go home on Christmas Eve.  This time he promises he’ll use his cane.  He does not.  

It’s been two years now without any catastropic injuries or events.  He’s mostly stabalized but his kidney function is in the 24% range (which is a failing grade on any test I can think of) but means that he doesn’t require regular Dyalisis.  His Diabetes is under control only with the help of medication, and his A1C is generally in the 6-7 range, which is boarderline and if it gets any worse will not be able to control it with the meds he’s on.  He’ll have to do insulin injections - this is an ineveitablity.  But he doesn’t test his blood sugar.  

He continues to ignore the dietary recomendations for both his Diabetic and Renal conditions.  He refuses to use his cane.   My father comes out to my house on Tuesdays to spend time with my son.  Mostly he naps in the chair in the living room and we feed him dinner, so at least he’s getting one good meal a week.  But, recenly, over the last three months he’s been falling more.  He shows up to my place with new visible scrapes and bruises every week.  He always wears slacks and a button up shirt, sometimes with a sweater.  So, the visible bruising is on his wrists, hands, and face.  In addition to that he *falls down* in front of me once every two weeks or so.  These falls are not little falls.  He trips, looses his balance and just CRUMPLES into a heap on the floor.  Usually face first.  Often he doesn’t even have time to put his hands out to slow his fall.  

Recently, I suggested we move his recliner so that it was out of the walk-way into his living room.  I have noticed that he often bumps into it or starts to stumble when walking through the narrow walk-way to get into his living room, because it’s in the way.  I suggested we move it to the other side of the coffee table, about 2 feet to the right.  And then, before he could protest, I said that if that meant he was too close to the TV, that we could then swap where his desk and TV sit, which would clear his desk chair out from in front of the entrance to the kitchen - removing another hazard.  

Keep in mind:  I DO THIS FOR A LIVING.  I am a personal organizer and I help reorganize and reorder people’s spaces for better work-life flow.  I am not simply making random suggestions.  I’ve thought about this for a while, and, it was a soft suggestion, not an order or an edict. 

But he flipped the fuck out on me.  He dug deep into the past to pull out some horrible bullshit he *did do me* as a kid and tried to weaponize it like it was shit I did to him.  It was dramatastic and awful, and, in hindsight probably an indication that his blood sugar is way off.  Because he was super irrational and kept saying he was shaking. 

I just get to sucked into his fucking tantrums and bullshit, because of a life-long dynamic of screaming fights and hysteria on his part.  I try.  I really do.  But I never recognize the possible low/high bloodsugar behavior until after the fact.  

[twtrv]

an accurate guide about red velvet

So since so many people are getting into Red Velvet recently, I decided to make a guide to help them out. You know, give yall some slack because learning five names is super hard. A guide accompanied by my half-assed jokes, interesting. 

PSA: If you’re only here to stan the girls because of their recent comebacks like Peek-A-Boo and Bad Boy and are going to drop them as soon as they release tracks similar to Dumb Dumb and Ice Cream Cake, leave because we don’t want you here.

Now that we got that out of the way, let’s get straight to business (TO DEFEAT THE HUNS WHY DID THEY SEND ME DAUGHTERS WHEN I ASKED FOR SONS)

Basic Facts

Red Velvet is a South Korean girl group formed by SM Entertainment in 2014.

There are five members (OT4 stans can choke).

They debuted on August 1st in 2014 with a single called “Happiness”.

Fandom name is Reveluv. Since “rêve” means “dream” in French, the meaning behind the fandom name is that us, Reveluvs, make their dreams come true and Red Velvet gives us their immense love in return, thus the “luv” part. Sometimes they also call us “Luvies”.

Official fandom colour is pastel coral and not red because l o g i c

The fact that they were formed by SM Entertainment doesn’t mean they got a free ride to the top so sit your entitled asses down, thanks.

Now, you see, they weren’t actually supposed to debut in 2014. I bet you must be confused but don’t worry, it is I, your trusty homie, that is gonna help you realize how many similarities every student has with SM lmao plus the reason for their early debut.

2014 was a rough year for our buddy Lee Soo Man. Jessica left Girl’s Generation; Sulli left f(x); Kris, Tao and Luhan left EXO... This, of course, caused a goddamn World War III amongst the fans of the respective groups. They were about to go in front of the official SM building with torches and pitchforks to demand SM to step up their game. To calm the situation down, our amigo SM must have thought: “Welp I sure fucked up. How the hell do I fix this? Wait, I have an idea! Let’s debut another girl group to cover up all the shit that has been piling up for years now!” 

And your boi gone and did it. He basically debuted another group despite the number of problems he had to deal with already. This is every student ever, just make another problem to cover up the first one.

Red Velvet debuted with four members; Irene, Seulgi, Wendy and Joy. The “Happiness” music video got 2 million views in a day and was the most viewed kpop music video for the month of August in 2014. See, the queens already breaking records.

However, the original version of “Happiness” was full of controversial topics such as 9/11 being the most prominent one. This caused such hate to the girls that everyone started calling them “flops”. Lmao Red Velvet stays unbothered as the kpop act with the most Billboard charted albums bYE.

Some of you still may be wondering what the hell happened with Yeri. Well, because their debut was rushed and due to her age, Yeri, unfortunately, couldn’t debut with them. When Red Velvet debuted, Yeri was 15 years old so basically a child. 

“bUt jiSUnG fROM ncT DreAM dEBuTed wHeN hE WAs onlY FoUrteEn”

Before, there was a law which stated that kids under the age of 16 couldn’t debut.

No need to worry fellow Yeri stans! Red Velvet only released another single called “Be Natural” before Yeri was officially added. The single featured NCT’s Taeyong on it too so if you are one of those fangirls, better go and check it out because your oppar is there + it is an underrated bop.

Yeri was added to the group during Ice Cream Cake era! Of course, many people hated her, acting as if Red Velvet released so many songs and solved world hunger without Yeri. Um, bitch they had two songs take a seat.

Discography and music in general lol

IT IS GOLD!1!!!!111!!

Okay listen, every single song of theirs makes me thot-drop in the middle of the goddamn school. Jesus Christ sunbaenim is shaking.

Albums:  Ice Cream Cake, The Red, The Velvet, Russian Roulette, Rookie, The Red Summer, Perfect Velvet, The Perfect Red Velvet.

Queens of naming their albums don’t even @ me.

Listen to every single song if you want to cure your depression, clear your skin, feed your children and harvest your crops. Seriously, all of their b-sides are so amazing and such bops they are worth a listen and you, as a person who chose to stan Red Velvet, deserve to have your ears cleansed.

Another topic that I want to bring up is “the red concept” and “the velvet concept”. It is not complicated. Basically what it means is that they split their concepts into two. The red concepts are more upbeat, catchy and poppy songs such as Dumb Dumb, Rookie, Russian Roulette etc. However, the velvet concept is where they show their mature, more serious ballads. Songs that represent the velvet side are Automatic, One of These Nights, Peek-A-Boo etc.

They filmed 13 music videos so you are going to get attacked by visuals 13 times, good luck.

The members 

The most interesting and fun part of this guide to be honest. So yeah, five members and five completely different personalities. Trust me, you’re gonna love every single one of these girls because they all have such amazing personalities and are extremely funny. Get abroad the homo express!

- Stage name: Irene

- Real name: Bae Joohyun

- Colour: Pink

- Position: Leader, Visual, Main Rapper, Lead Dancer, Vocal

- She really is a bae tho we love a powerful woman

- Born on March 29th, 1991; the eldest

- She literally looks five what the fuck

- tiny

- Takes pictures of everyone and everything so that she can stare at them while she does the laundry because she is such a mom

- “Shut the fuck up I am not a mom”

- A GODDESS PLUS TOP VISUAL OF THIS GENERATION NO PRINTER JUST FAX

- loves pussy

- Drinks men tears to stay hydrated

- Forgets names of her kids aka the rest of Red Velvet

- Snorts laundry detergent

- Talk shit get hit

- Silent but plotting world domination with her at the top

- Speaking of tops, she doms bYE

- She survived the World War II and was Stalin's deskmate when they were in the third grade

- xXButtLoverXx

- Likes winning. Who got to the finish line first? Her. Who travelled to space first? Her. Who found the cure for world hunger? Her.

- Actually very talented in everything she does and is a blessing to humanity

- Stage name: Seulgi

- Real name: Kang Seulgi

- Colour: Orange

- Position: Main Dancer, Lead Vocal

- Either as fluffy as a teddy bear or a fucking sex God there is no in between

- Born on February 10th, 1994; second eldest

- hER EYES MAKE ME QUESTION MY SEXUALITY

- She, in general, makes me question my sexuality

- also tiny

- “Hello I am the 71st prettiest face in the world”

- First half of the “DD” also known as “Dumbass Duo”

- Someone help her she is lost in time and space

- The type of person to put a red sock to wash with the whites

- Is not capable of doing the splits because she dumb lmao

- How the fuck is one this confused???

- Gets bullied by her members a lot

- A sunshine in human form. You know that sun from the Teletubbies? That be Seulgi

- Her abs make me feel like Kylie Jenner, y’know... pregnant

- “If there’s no food I’m going home”

- THE number one fan of Beyonce™

- Pringles advocate

- She didn’t train for 7 years to have people shit talking her because she is multitalented and leaves people all around the world shooketh

- Stage name: Wendy

- Real name: Son Seungwan

- Colour: Blue

- Position: Main Vocal, English speaker

- Is also a HELLA good rapper

- Born on February 21st, 1994; third eldest

- Used to live in Toronto when she was younger, her English proceeds to give everyone a boner

- the tiniest out of all

- The kpop singer with the widest vocal range (this is an actual fact)

- “S H I N E  O N  M E”

- So caring it makes me bawl. She literally cooks for everyone and is so supportive it is truly beautiful

- Is actually the one behind the iconic “PARK SOOYOUNG! WHEN YOU SMILE I SMILE TOO”

- If she ever covers your song, you can say goodbye to it because it’s hers now

- A soccer mom

- Also that famous Kris Jenner “You’re doing amazing sweetie” meme

- Rescue her scalp someone pls

- Probably used “WHOMST” once in her lifetime unironically

- The gayest out of all the gays

- She is a boob person and also has a very nice butt Irene knows

- Once stacked a gazillion hats on top of her head because why the fuck not

- Is also a sexy pornstar ... no wait, I meant a “saxophonist”

- Is so beautiful and deserves all the love in this entire world but the world doesn’t deserve her at all 

- Stage name: Joy

- Real name: Park Sooyoung

- Colour: Green

- Position: Lead Rapper, Lead Vocal, Mood-maker

- + an actress

- Born on September 3rd, 1996: fourth eldest

- Invented “cute” and “sexy” don’t fight me on this

- TALL (for a Red Velvet member lmfao)

- Has the prettiest profile, God took extra time in crafting such a masterpiece

- Speaking of God... God is real and in a form of Park Sooyoung

- Likes finer things in life such as herself

- If the song “Me Too” was a human, it would be her

- Ruthless

- When she gets scared her soul deadass leaves her body and it is hilarious

- A dramatic bitch

- HAS THE BEST BODY SORRY YALL CAN’T COMPETE

- Can get very angery

- Probably was kinkshamed by someone once

- Is having a mental breakdown at every waking moment

- “Can you stop I’m very sensitive”

- Tom to Yeri’s Jerry

- Just the most amazing human being, an all-rounder and a happy virus

- Stage name: Yeri

- Real name: Kim Yerim

- Colour: Purple

- Position: Maknae, Lead Rapper, Sub Dancer, Vocal, Songwriter

- Is being an absolute savage a talent?

- Born on March 5th, 1999; the youngest

- The other half of the “Dumbass Duo”

- So much sass is contained in this tiny human being

- Plans to take over SM soon one day

- HAS THE MOST CONTAGIOUS LAUGH IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE AND IT IS SO GENUINE I LOVE IT

- Likes pineapple on pizza cancelled

- The OG Sone

- A mess

-  (ง •̀_•́)ง

- Not a big spoon nor a little spoon, she a knife

- Tries her best

- Knows everyone and everything; what a social butterfly it warms my heart

- Likes to read smut so all of you smut fanfiction writers, watch out, she is lurking

- SPEAKING OF LURKING

- She lowkey had a fan account that was all about Girl’s Generation

- A woman we all aspire to be

- Is an actual cinnamon roll that yes, could kill you but everyone loves her because she really improved a lot. WE WATCHED HER GROW UP INTO A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN SHE IS NOW B L E S S

Popular ships, let’s play a game where you guess which two people are paired up (not like it is completely obvious)

SEULRENE 

WENRENE

WENSEUL

JOYRI

YERENE

JOYGI

JOYDY

WENRI

SEULRI

Ending note

On a more serious note, Red Velvet is an amazing girl group that deserves so much more. I hope this at least got you to check them out. If not, your loss lol.

I could use a fuckton adjectives to describe their perfection but trust me, that ain’t enough.

Anyways, OT4 stans can fuck off, don’t comment on this post.

Just love all the girls and don’t point out their insecurities in a rude way mmkay?

This is all from me and I hope you enjoyed and that this helped you and maybe made you chuckle (maybe?)

If there is another question that you want me to answer, ask me because I would love to.

P.S. It doesn’t have to be Red Velvet related because I am trash that stans more groups than the number of bad jokes I made in this post.

Follow for more quality top-notch content.

[crabs-but-better]

every time i’ve sat down to write a memoir of some sort i can’t because it’s just So Much. I do have a few stories in mind tho that i would definitely include (this post is mostly for me to come back to at some point) but uh. if you’re interested in my over sharing specifically on the topic of overly verse-like reflections detailing the journey i took to get to where i am now then read under the cut i guess (tw suicidal ideation)

“I haven’t seen my own chest in over two years. The mirror in my room has a towel over it and the bathroom fan stays in a permanent state of disuse in hopes that the steam will cover the body I don’t dare look at.”

“In third grade, I don’t recall if it was through an article or the news or an offhand comment from my parents, I learned of the existence of some sort of surgery to make you a boy. The next day, I -not even knowing the words that described me- proudly told my classmates that I planned on getting those surgeries. For some reason, the looks I got from nine year olds who we are supposed to be ‘protecting’ from ‘this kind of stuff’ lent me kinder and more understanding looks than my own therapist.”

“My school concert in 5th grade was one of the best I ever had. I showed up wearing a white button down and black jeans, proudly sporting my late grandfather’s favorite tie. When Tyler asked me if I wanted to be a boy, I said, without hesitation, “Yes!” and didn’t hear a single thing after that. They didn’t know that just an hour before, I was on the floor groveling, begging for my parents to let me wear this instead of the sparkly dress we had picked out a week ago.”

“Through some feat of repression, after three years of proudly declaring I was a boy, I simply forgot. I forgot about the surgeries and I forgot about Tyler and I forgot about grandpa’s tie and I lived a middle school life as daddy’s little girl, mommy’s perfect straight A student. I wore those tight striped sweaters and put my hair up in flannel colored scrunchies and wore whatever necklaces were trending at the time. Somehow, none of it felt wrong. Until it did. When I started skipping homework and paragraphs in my favorite book, I cried. It was all wrong. And nobody told me. Nobody told me that I shouldn’t have thrown away my favorite cargo shorts. Nobody let me know that listening to sad songs when you’re sad is a bad idea. Nobody held my hand as I begged myself to put the notebook away and stop writing my will. Nobody noticed when I went to bed six hours early hoping that when I woke up, if I woke up, everything would be right again. I’m sure everyone, instead, was breathing a sigh of relief. A, “thank god that phase is over and my daughter is normal again” prayer. The world was upside down and backwards and somehow I still hadn’t remembered who I was.”

“I don’t think some people realize how freeing it is to finally have an answer to a burning question. My uncertainty sat like bile in my throat. It burnt through my skin, branding me as an outcast. They looked at me, curled up in the corner of the library with whichever book happened to whisk me away from everything, they all looked at me with a revolting pity in their eyes. My forehead read “queer” but the problem was I never looked in the mirror. So when two little non-binary kids joined me in my little corner of despair, they brought with them, cradled in their words of encouragement, my answer. The word hurt at first, like when you finally spit out something you were choking on and it leaves behind the sorest of throats. But eventually it washed over me, soothing my burns down to the very core. There it was, at last. “Transgender”

“Of course, it took a few years for me to grow into it. First it was agender, then it was demigirl, then it was non-binary, then genderfluid, but eventually I hit the nail on the head. I’ve found that umbrella labels are the most freeing, I’m allowed to move within and change over time.

I remember a game I used to play all the time. It was called “Pikmin Adventures”, I believe. It came with the WiiU. They were relatively short levels, but the soundtrack intrigued me. All J remember is that once you reached the end of a level, the once dark and stressful score ended off with a dispersing of all that energy. Cymbals gently crashed and led way for a calm piano melody. I breathed a sigh of relief every time I heard it. After a level, when the little Pikman climbed triumphantly into the spaceship, I always felt a sense of accomplishment. That’s how I feel now. There’s the calming melody in the background and I’m climbing triumphantly into my metaphoric spaceship. I breathe a sigh of relief. I survived the level. I made it through. I’m blasting off! And I know, inevitably, I’ll come to the next level. But just like those funky little Pikman, I’ll make it to the end, I’ll hear those cymbals crash again, and everything will be okay.”

[priscilawithonel]

Always loved spelling.

Alex took me to pinballz, this arcade place for adults which features nostalgic pinball machines like Pac-Man and interestingly, some arcade-ified games like Mario kart and guitar hero which (as far as I remember) were originally games you bought and played at home on Nintendo and PlayStation. One of those was one which I’ve never heard of before and already forgot the name of it: the premise was that you have to type the words that pop onto the screen as fast and as accurately as possible or else you get mauled by zombies. There was a keyboard there so it was likely one of those early PC games that never caught my attention at that age. I sat down to play. Everything was in Japanese characters so I had no clue what was happening other than blinking lights indicating I should click there or press enter. Once the game started, these zombie characters started rushing out from behind doorways and corners, with little thought bubbles displaying English characters (?) of Japanese words the Japanese words. I killed that game, destroyed each one of the zombies with near 100% accuracy.

One time in 7th grade my reading teacher who always smelled like freshly smoked cigarettes after lunch, decided to shake things up a little bit by abandoning the lesson she started at the beginning of the week for a spelling contest. In an around the world format, we each went around spelling words the teacher just grab-bagged out of a dictionary. I won.

In high school, I competed in UIL academic competitions in spelling and unexpectedly placed. Unexpected because I was thrown in at the last second. Edged into 5th with the word vis-à-vis. So cool.

Not unrelatedly, in college, I took a Spanish Linguistics class in which I learned about the anatomy of the mouth and all the different areas of the human body that support the making of language, the body’s factorization of the human existence, i guess. Never enjoyed learning and thinking about a topic as much as I did about phonemes, morphemes, the IPA, sentence diagramming… pure joy.

Something about my joy for spelling and dissecting words, my fascination with the human journey and memory continues to nudge and even jab at my side… it constantly seeks my pursuit of it. Like it’s asking me to follow it into a light, create space for it, speak it.

[trisockatops]

Written for the new Nonbinary and Generally Not Binary blogging carnival @carnivaloutsidethebinary with the August topic Questioning and Exploration.

A blogging carnival is a blogging event where bloggers take turns hosting topics surrounding some general theme and anyone who feels inspired can respond. This carnival is specifically about Outside the Binary Genders.

So here’s my story of how I came to identify as nonbinary and genderqueer.

Chapter 1: Cis

I both never thought a lot about gender and thought a lot about gender. Thanks to a heavy dose of internalized misogyny, sometime in elementary school (4th and 5th grade, I think), I stopped wearing dresses. I associated femininity with weakness. I wasn’t ashamed to be a girl, but I didn’t want to be seen as weak and associated being girly with being weak. I avoided the color pink altogether. I never wore makeup.

In late elementary or early middle school, I have a specific memory of going to local amusement park with my cousins. I was wearing an oversized gray tee and had my hair cut short (I had my hair long until 5th grade and then loved how freeing and light short hair was; I am a creature of comfort above all else and long hair is too time consuming for me). My boobs hadn’t really grown in yet (not that they ever got that large, thankfully). We stopped at some snack truck, probably for something like dippin’ dots. And the man running the food truck referred to me as “sir”. And I was in a foul, hateful, depressed mood for the rest of the day. I didn’t want to dress any differently but I HATED being thought of as a boy.

It wasn’t until mid to late high school that I finally came to the realization that being human meant being comprised of both feminine and masculine parts and that this was okay. I experimented with wearing skirts and allowing myself to come in contact with the color pink. I still never wore makeup and didn’t really get into dresses. But I was more more happy and at ease with who I was.

During HS, I also started to become a blossoming little feminist reading about and standing up for women’s rights. I also met someone trans (binary), who I became really good friends with.

I was secure in being a woman, though, and very proud to be one. I never questioned my gender. Or maybe I just didn’t really know I could?

At some point, as we all began maturing, there was a disconnect between my experiences and those of my friends. As an asexual, though, that was something very common to me and, considering a lot of the disconnected experiences had to do with sexual interactions to which I was pretty oblivious of, it seemed and even still seems like that could at least be a part of it. But I’ll get into this a little bit more next.

Chapter 2: Questioning

Just as I was entering college, I got into an abusive relationship that lasted my entire bachelor’s experience. I finally escaped my last semester (I went for 4.5 years).

Turns out that you work hard to hold things together while you’re being abused because you have no other choice. I thought I would be fine. I could just finally be free. I could do things again. Maybe I could even be happy again? Instead, depression that I’d suffered from ever since early HS came crashing back down on me tenfold. I had a lot of unprocessed baggage that I hadn’t even known I’d had. It was a long, hard period of inner turmoil and distress and severe self-hatred for me, coming to terms with what I’d been through.

I know questioning is never easy. It’s frustrating and confusing. You doubt who you are. It’s just a haze of wtf and never really knowing or understanding anything and not even being able to voice how you’re feeling. If not because it wouldn’t be accepted than because you simply don’t even know how you’re feeling, so how the heck are you supposed to be able to explain that?

But my questioning came on during an already intense bout of confusion in working out the trauma I’d endured and how to continue living after it. Now, I had begun expanding my feminism by researching other bigotries. I’d heard of being nonbinary and had precursory knowledge of what it meant, but it wasn’t until after I escaped my abuser that I felt pulled to learning more about it. I followed a lot of nonbinary blogs trying to figure out what it was and what it meant and how it felt. And somewhere along the line, questioning how I felt about my gender started slipping in with questioning how and why to go on living.

Like a lot of people, I doubted myself and what my feelings, which were vague and undefined, actually meant. I had never questioned my gender before. In fact, I had felt solidly like a girl and had been proud of it. Was that a lie or was this a lie? And my abuse complicated things. Was I just feeling this way because I was traumatized and dissociating? I was definitely dissociating, specifically from my genitalia and my body. At the time, I never connected this with it possibly being dysphoria. For me, it was just a reaction to my trauma. But was I just rejecting who I was in order to cope with what I’d been through? Was I just faking this gender confusion? Was I an intruder? Was I just trying to be more special?

Yet I couldn’t stop reading and researching and looking up new terms. I believed I was faking and intruding but... I didn’t want to be.

One day i came across a post by someone talking about how they were nonbinary afab and one of the signs looking back that should have been a sign was that they’d never really experienced street harassment. They weren’t catcalled like their friends and family were. They’d never felt the need to walk to their car with their keys between their fingers or call a friend and tell them to expect their call when they finally got home.

It was the first post about being nonbinary that I connected with and related to. I wanted to cry. That was me. That was one of the huge disconnects between my experience and that of other women’s. I clung to that post, that other person with this shared experience that could potentially mean I wasn’t just an invader. That maybe there was a reason I was so conflicted and in internal uproar.

Still doubting and confused and coping with my trauma, though, I soldiered on. I waited to have that perfect moment of clarity, that spark of recognition, that magical moment where I read a gender term and everything fell into place. 

But nothing ever clicked.

I found and reblogged dozens of terms that... just weren’t me. I found and reblogged a few that were really close. But... something just wasn’t perfect. Didn’t feel right. Nothing ever fit like a custom glove. They were nice terms. Good terms. But they didn’t seem to be mine.

After months (maybe half a year or more) of questioning and researching and struggling... I was tired. I had compartmentalized a lot of my trauma. I was ready to think about other things.

I decided to stop torturing myself trying to find that perfect term that may never come. I basically raegquit questioning. I chose to identify as nonbinary and just leave it as that. Even through the doubt, the fear, the unknowing confusion.

Chapter 3: Nb & Gq

Three or so years later, I was talking to someone I’d met in an exercise class. I don’t remember how it came about, but he was sharing and I think he was telling me about going between periods of asexuality and hypersexuality, and so I shared that I was asexual and (now) aromantic (caedromantic, actually), which led to him coming out as agender. I excitedly stumbled over telling him I was much the same, that I was nonbinary. We talked about how this felt to each of us and how we expressed it. It was the first time I’d ever said I was nonbinary out loud. And that’s what made me realize that somehow, slowly, over time, I’d actually come to really identify with and as nonbinary. It took years, but I’d finally accepted and come to terms with being nonbinary.

That was a huge revelation to me. It was such an exciting moment. I don’t know when or where it’d happened but it seemed to have just happened over time by giving myself a little time and patience.

After that, I began participating more in online nonbinary communities. In doing so, I heard and learned more about being genderqueer. I was also learning more of the queer community in general (after closing in a decade of never feeling a part of the LGBTQIAP+ community since I dealt with it mostly online and gatekeeping efforts have only become louder and louder). I liked the meaning and statement. I feel connected to nonbinary, but I have since also begun identifying as genderqueer as well. To me, they mean different things that I relate to in different ways. They’re both meaningful to me, though it has taken a couple more months to understand what each of these labels and identities mean and how they relate to me.

Unfortunately, I still haven’t come out to anyone but that one agender person, but I now know better who I am. I am sure there are more discoveries and understandings to be made. I am happy to finally be in a place where I can look forward to these future revelations rather than just being frustrated at not understanding. I learned to let go and that the experience is more important than the label.

[mylifeinearlyed]

You wanna know what really grinds my gears? When people say that children nowadays are dumber.

I couldn’t find it on their timeline so they must have deleted it but I remember a cousin of mine once posted a video about how they’re teaching elementary school children now. It was how to solve some type of math equation, I don’t remember the specific type but I remember that it was something that didn’t seem at all complicated, and the new way they’re teaching it seemed really complicated, and this cousin wrote that the “American Education system is getting worse and children are getting dumber.” That is not true.

Fun fact about my school; It’s a vocational school, which means that every other week students work in a specific field (Mine is obviously Early Education). Every Thursday and Friday, my freshman class leaves school to go work in a local daycare center. There are two separate buildings; One for preschool children/children about to go into kindergarten, and one for infants-4 year olds. I’ve been working in the preschool building, and those kids are absolutely smart.

As a high school student (15 years old), I’m average in intelligence. My report card stands with 2 As, 1 B, and 2 Cs (in the American grading system). As for the classes I take, I only take College Prep courses (I have not been recommended for Honors in any class except English, however it was suggested that I start in a College Prep course at the start, and switch into an Honors course if I find it to be necessary). As for my previous years, I was mostly placed in classes that were, in simplified terms, the easier classes, in comparison to the classes with the harder, stricter teachers.

The reason I tell you all this is because I’m using it as a comparison with the preschool children I worked with. 

Every day at the preschool, the children go outside for at most 30 minutes to play (weather permitting). There was a little girl who had hurt her knee the day before (this was my first day on externship, and therefore my first time meeting these children), so she sat on the steps, looking pretty lonely. I sat with her, got on her level and we talked about stuff; How she was going to go to Disneyland soon, her favorite Disney princesses, etc. We eventually got onto to the topic of colors; a classmate of hers found some chalk and was trying to mix the chalk and see if he could make new colors. We started talking about colors, and then I hear her say this:

“Red, blue, and yellow are primary colors!”

Let me just say that hearing that actually blew my mind. Let me reiterate, I was an average student growing up. I did not learn about primary and secondary colors until I was about 10-11 years old.

That’s 5th grade.

And these little kids are learning about this stuff at 5 years old? When I learnt about that stuff, most of those kids were about 1 year old.

And there’s probably way more that I haven’t mentioned. 

These children are so smart and I am so excited to become a teacher.

TLDR; Children are getting smarter and learning faster than we did, and that is a beautiful thing.