THE TEACHER I’M WORKING WITH SAW MY PROPOSAL FOR WHAT I WANTED TO LECTURE ON IN HIS CLASS
We’re only supposed to get one forty-five minute block. But he said “You really seem to know what you’re talking about!” AND GAVE ME THREE!
I feel so AMAZINGLY COOL RIGHT NOW!
LOOK AT ME!
BEING ALL HISTORY TEACHER LIKE AND STUFFS!
My plan? To teach them through an outlet that they’re familiar with so they don’t even notice what they’re learning until it’s too late. Nothing better than sneaking America’s need for conformity and history of racial prejudice and profiling through the art of the children’s book!
A/N: My first imagine ever! I hope you guys like it. Requests are open!
“D’you think this project is really going to teach us life skills, or is it just another final project for ‘The Man’ to use to crush our already-dwindling spirits at the end of the year?”
Jughead looks up from his laptop where he is supposedly typing notes from his English paper, but where you know he is instead working on the novel. In lieu of an answer, he flicks a fry your way and hits your forehead.
“Not fair,” you mutter, picking up the fry from the table you’ve commandeered at Pop’s.
“Well, if you didn’t want a fry to the face you should have known better than to use the capital-M ‘Man’ argument,” he says, punctuating it with an eye-roll. He picks up a handful of fries this time and shoves them into his waiting mouth.
“Whatever, Juggie,” you huff out, “That still doesn’t mean it’s not a valid question. Me working with Pop for the last couple months really just meant me eating the old batch of fries and sneaking a sliced pickle every once in a while. And yet Mr. Langle said my paper was ‘inspired’ and that the experience ‘obviously had an impact on me.” You don’t mention that it did have an impact, that sitting at the counter and staring at Jughead was what alerted B and V to your crush, before you even knew yourself. That it made them confront you about your feelings. No, you absolutely did not tell him that in the month since you finished those volunteer hours you have sat across from him in this very booth and wondered when you would snap, gripping those dark locks of his between your fingers as you pulled him in for a kiss.
He brings your attention back to the present by sending another fry flying. “Did you or did you not learn that an old batch of Pop’s fries can be just as good as a fresh one?” He gives the tiniest hint of a smile, corners of his mouth turned up in the usual manner, which is basically like a full-blown grin where Jug is concerned. When you give a dissatisfied sigh and a head nod, he raises an eyebrow. “I’d say that’s a valuable life skill, Y/N. We both know that Pop gives out old batches for free at the end of the day, but the only people who take ‘em are the ones who know what you now know.” At this Jughead looks back down at his laptop.
It seems that was Juggie’s limit of words for the day, as you continue to ramble on and he gives only a lifted eyebrow in the right places to respond.
Betty and Veronica walk in the student lounge, pinkies linked, and you wave them over when they lock eyes with you. Clearing your book bag to make room on the table, the two girls seat themselves opposite you before Ronnie pulls out her phone.
“Could you not go two seconds in my presence before you’re bored of me, V?” She looks up and gives a quiet laugh, setting her phone onto her lap.
Betty also smiles before giving you a troubled look. “What?” you ask, flitting your hands around your jacket zipper. “Is there something on my face?”
Betty’s concerned eyes turned to Veronica, and both of them sigh. “No,” Betty starts, “I was just wondering-”
“We wanted to know what you’ve done about Jughead,” Veronica spills. You sit back in your chair, wanting nothing to do with the conversation you know is about to ensue. “It’s just that we’re worried about you. You know how Jughead is, he will never be the one to make the first move and you can’t keep pining after him, Y/N. You need to tell him or you’ll just make a mess of your relationship before it’s even started.” B nods along as Ronnie reaches out for you hand.
You sink farther into the hard plastic of public school chairs. You let V take you hand in hers, but you’re done having this conversation. “Listen,” you pause and heave a huge sigh, unsure how to continue. “My answer is the same as yesterday, the same as last week, the same as the week before that. I haven’t and still do not plan on telling Jughead anything. I can take hiding feelings, what I cannot handle is losing Juggie.” You pick up your bag and leave the lounge right as Jughead walks in. You give him a smile and he grins back, but you don’t bother staying for his benefit. He’ll probably enjoy the alone time to work, anyway.
Once again sat at Pop’s, with an onion ring in hand, you recount to a clueless Jughead the annoyances that have been B and V.
“They just don’t get it!” You burst out, frustration evident in the way you angrily bite into the onion ring. “I couldn’t possibly tell y-”
You give a pause. You had almost let out that you can’t tell Juggie your feelings, but you caught yourself. You knew it was stupid to talk about it to him in the first place, but you figured if you kept what they were annoying you about vague enough then it would be okay. He was the first person you come to with problems, and this should be no exception. Just flub some of the details and it’ll be fine, you think.
You continue on, grabbing a new onion ring while covering your near-miss. “I couldn’t possibly do what they want me to do, there’s just too much at stake. Basically, I’d rather die than do that. I mean, how long can they pester me about it anyway? It’s been a month!”
Jughead shoves aside his laptop, snatching the food from your hand and shoving the fist-size ring into his mouth. You huff a laugh and roll your eyes before grabbing another one. This one you toss at his head, knocking his beanie askew. He swallows and rights his beanie, giving you a playful glare.
You hold your hands up in surrender. “That’s for the onslaught of french fries I endured!” His glare dissolves into a laugh. It’s music to your ears, and you can’t help but join in. He continues to eat the food you ordered, paying no mind to you studying his profile as he stuffs his face.
Not long after the onion rings are demolished do B and V stoll in, sliding gracefully into your booth. Veronica once again pulls out her cellphone, this time to take a picture of the ridiculously satisfied look Jug has after getting his fill of food. The three of you laugh as Jughead swipes at the camera with a frown while V pulls it away.
“Hey Betty, could you let me out? I’m not as good as Jug at vaulting the booths and I have to go to the bathroom.” Betty nods and lets you get up, then slides back into place.
Jughead has just managed to get Veronica to stop snapping his picture as you walked toward the back of Pop’s where the restroom was.
“So,” Jughead starts, knowing Ronnie would take his laptop and sit on it if he tried typing to ignore them, “You really need to give Y/N a break. She’s been complaining about you guys telling her what to do for the last hour.”
Betty gives Veronica a sideways glance only to see her return one. A waitress comes by with their usual strawberry milkshake with two straws, having put the order in when she saw the pair come in. Veronica ignores it as Betty thanks the waitress, instead focusing on Jughead.
“Wait, she told you what’s been bothering her?”
He gives a little smirk in response. Of course, I’m her closest friend. Well, probably more than that, honestly,” he adds as an afterthought. “Really we’re bes-”
Betty cuts in with a squeal, “I can’t believe she told you!”
Archie walk in just in time to hear the high-pitch celebration and looks over to their table.
Grin stretching over her face, Veronica seconds the sentiment as she nods for Archie to join them. “Oh Archiekins, you’ll never guess. Y/N finally told Jug that she has feelings for him!”
Archie chuckles the tiniest bit before swiping their strawberry milkshake, making Betty give a snort of disapproval. None notice the ashen look Jug had adopted during their exchange.
“What- what do you mean, feelings?”
Veronica looks back to Jug, confused. “You know, that she has a crush on you?” She shakes her head, giving Archie a tiny glare as he slides the milkshake back towards them. “Honestly, none of us are surprised it took her this long. She can’t even decide between vanilla and chocolate shakes half of the time, of course it would take her forever to not only realize but to tell you how she feels.”
Jughead shakes his head slightly. “She…. she actually hasn’t mentioned it.”
The three friends on the other side of the booth freeze. Slowly, Ronnie opens her mouth but then quickly closes it again.
“But you said you’re more than friends?” Betty questions. “What did you mean if not that she told you and you confessed your love back?”
Jug doesn’t move anymore, the slight crease in his brow the only indication that he’s even present to the conversation. “I was going to say ‘best friends’,” he murmurs, mostly to himself.
Archie looks at Jug, then at B and V before clearing his throat. “I, uh, came in at a bad time, huh?”
You come out of the bathroom just in time to hear Archie’s question. “Why would it be a bad time?” you question, smiling and sliding in next to Jughead. The three opposite you look on with wide eyes as Jug turns toward you, Expression blank but eyes filled with a confusion that you can’t quite place.
Whenever I finish a work, I always feel lost, as though a steady
anchor has been taken away and there is no sure ground under
my feet. During the time between ending one project and
beginning another, I always have a crisis of meaning. I begin to
wonder what my life is all about and what I have been put on
this earth to do. It is as though immersed in a project I lose all
sense of myself and must then, when the work is done, rediscover
who I am and where I am going.
people whose fathers like them are so bizarre like back in ap senior english we had to read we were the mulvaneys and one of the discussion questions was “why do you think the father is Like That” and i said that most fathers in stories about womanhood are Like That and some braying ass stood up and called me a liar because his father LOVES him and their whole family is perfect
My class has been reminding my professor for the last week and a half that he hasn’t opened the homework online so we can’t do any of it. Despite this, he’s forgotten twice now so we’re two/three classes behind in the homework department and so now he finally uploads them but he isn’t adjusting when they’re due so now we have LIKE EIGHT ASSIGNMENTS TO DO ALL DUE ON THE SAME DAY WITH THAT DAY BEING TWO DAYS FROM NOW
look, y’all, the reason i’m not flaming karamel shippers who are women is this:
i may never get to see kara and lena’s insane chemistry become an awesome love story. i may never get to see kara and james have the overdue, beautiful relationship we lost for no good reason. i may never get to see kara have a love life that’s a real beautiful model of any kind of het partnership. i may never get to see my iconic feminist heroes treated right. there’s so much waste here.
but i’m not so at risk here that i’m going to date an attractive, charming man and ignore how uncomfortable he makes me even early in our relationship. let all my friends convince me that if there’s a physical attraction to him that’s enough. convince myself that my problem is that i’m not willing to take risks and be forgiving and understanding enough. take on the project of teaching a man how to have basically emotional intelligence. let my work life, my friendships, and my home life all suffer. accept a little paltry handful of affection and care as real love. and go through break-ups only to get back together with him repeatedly.
what i’m saying is, we’re all actually stuck in this patriarchy. and getting positive feelings out of a toxic ship isn’t… well, it isn’t quite privilege if you’re a woman. it’s something… but it’s not that. even if the race politics and the heteronormativity enrage me and create intersections of inequalities, this ship represents something that makes women’s lives less, no matter how they feel. they’re making a tradeoff at best. and the outcome is not tipped in their favor.