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and really , dilton’s funeral isn’t the best time for a reunion but there’s no time like the present ! shoulders shift momentarily , discomfort evident in slide of restless shoulders under a suit that’s just bordering on too tight ; hasn’t worn it in years , but perhaps that’s the look he’s going for --- - like nothing has changed , that he can still look her in the eyes and see honeyed warmth pooling under thick lashes , sugar instead of ice and rage that buried itself deep in her father’s when he tried to rip 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 from this mortal coil .
he won’t linger on that , though . instead , he’ll gulp down the champagne that he’s been 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 , ditch the glass that sweats something profuse in callused palms and sidle his way up . ( heart beats fast heart beats something fierce heart is TRYING TO LEAP OUT OF MY CHEST AND --- - ) ❝ hey . ❞ ( oh my god i’m going to vomit i can’t fucking do this those eyes i can’t FUCKING do this . . . ) ❝ here in a 𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 capacity ?? ❞
closed starter . re: @pinkperfectiions .
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bc i’m me and i can’t ever stop @ just one , pls tell me which of the following i should pick up as a second char !
mary andrews , as portrayed by winona ryder .
josie mccoy , as portrayed by china anne mcclain .
brigitte reilly , as portrayed by barbie ferreira .
probs an oc , as portrayed by tba .
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❛ : lin , lydia winona .
“i’m pretty sure i’ve just had what could quite possibly be described as one of the most uncomfortable and awkward conversations in all twenty-three years of my life while trying to explain to my boss that i was going to need a few days off next month to go to the mothman festival..” lydia said as she slid into the booth at pop’s. no matter how old she got, there was just something about the chock’lit shoppe that just made her feel like she was fifteen all over again. “like how do i explain mothman to my boss without going into the whole history?”
bleary but impossibly intrigued , brows furrow over the rim of coffee cup that he’s become permanently attached to before paled hues will glance forth . he doesn’t mind the other’s company today , not that it’s really been asked for --- - but editing 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗳𝘂𝗹𝘀 of academic papers isn’t quite the soul - warming task that begs complete solitude . ❝ mothman ? . . . honestly , i’d just go for it , really embellish those details until your boss is begging for 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬 . ❞ hint of a TRADEMARK LOPSIDED SMIRK will come moments after a hushed snicker . ❝ real question is --- - how do you get a job that requires attendance of the fucking mothman festival --- - . . . ❞ starts to fold himself over carelessly , and smudges a line of spidery handwriting with a brush of fingertips , --- - ❝ and where do i apply ?? ❞
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❛ : jones , forsythia parthenia .
“please don’t do this to me-” she wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular ; words muttered beneath her breath and around a frown that was directed entirely at the pops jukebox. whatever spark it had, once, was GONE - literally, at that. the lights of the big blue machine that had been jellybean’s first real introduction to good music ( not the crap that played on the radio nowadays ) finally seemed to have died, the turntable inside having done it’s last spin and come to a PITIFUL stop. she’d already given the machine a desperate shake. she had even given it a gentle, purposeful kick, as if that might’ve helped. denial and anger were only two stages, and the waitress on duty was so caught up in the slow and steady onset of real depression that she didn’t notice the approach of someone to pops’ counter. “i don’t what i’m gonna do without you - HOW am i supposed to work under these conditions? c’mon-”
a notch in the protruding vertebrae of a slim neck has begun to cramp ; head has been ducked for hours now , singleminded interest firmly affixed on careworn notebook that shows far too many signs of age and overuse to be relatively new . ballpoint caught momentarily betwixt teeth , the elder jones will take 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 to appreciate how well he writes here --- --- - has always found comfort in the neon - lit embrace of pop’s chock’lit shoppe , even through the darkest junctures of a boundless history . ( oh , sweetest safe haven ; two burgers and a triple chocolate milkshake do wonders for the soul when what you understand as 𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 is crumbling around your shoulders . ) he’s broken out of elongate reverie by familiar tones laced with forlorn chagrain , and if he wasn’t heartbroken by the sight he’d almost laugh at her . ❝ not bessie , she can’t have died on us now ! ❞ he’s at her side in the blink of an eye , own brow creased in perplexity . ❝ we learned real music off bessie . remember when pop put bowie in for the first time ? ❞
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⌜ demi male , he/him | creep by radiohead , bijou movie theater , the pariah ⌟ ⏤ hey , isn’t that FORSYTHE PENDLETON JONES III ? the TWENTY - THREE year old NORTH SIDER has lived in town for their WHOLE LIFE , and has always denied their resemblance to ALEX FITZALAN . they’ve been a photojournalist & aspiring author for a while now , and i guess it makes sense --- - they’ve always seemed so CANNY & ASTUTE , though i have heard that they can be pretty TACITURN & CAVILLOUS . did you hear about how they STOLE THE IDEA FOR HIS FIRST MANUSCRIPT FROM AN ONLINE POST ? i always knew something was up with them .
disclaimer before i get right into the shits: i’m going very canon divergent here . i hate the way ras wrote jughead , and i’m going to fucking fix it . a lot of my interpretation is going to be based off headcanons . i just ... i hate cold sprouts and riverdale’s pathetic attempt at jughead , and i’m fixing that shit rn .
anyway ! my name’s van , i’m 20 , i’m a full slut for aesthetics . i use she/they pns , write out of the hellscape that is aest and i’m a full - time student doing a double degree in law and liberal arts , majoring in criminology and minoring in polisci . full disclosure abt the way i write: i tend to use heavily edited gifs / icons and heavily formatted text --- - if either of those bother you , please let me know and i’ve got no problem changing them . i use those because they’re my personal preferences , but accessibility and ease always comes first . in saying that , i’m done --- - so let’s crack on to this little shit !
born on may the fourth of 1996 , jughead jones is the firstborn son of fp and gladys jones , notorious southside serpents . they’re not wealthy --- - this is made evident when jughead is born , not in a hospital , but in the back of a beat - up car that neither of his parents technically own . they weren’t planning on having kids , but fate is a funny motherfucker , and so it goes . fp claims naming rights , and that’s how forsythe pendleton jones iii is brought into the world , kicking and screaming and making too much of a fuss . some things never change .
he doesn’t stay an only child for long . forsythia parthenia jones ( again , naming habits are likely crack - induced and entirely unfortunate in nature ) is born in august of 2000 . she’s got health issues from the beginning but the minute a near - 5 year old jughead jones lays eyes on his younger sister , he’s besotted . even at such a tender age , he feels a genuine drive to protect the wailing little ball that’s pressed flush against mother’s flesh .
childhood is an interesting adventure , spent shuttling between the north side , the�� south side , hospitals --- - rinse , repeat . it’s a strange existence , but he doesn’t mind it . he shows a proclivity for reading early on ; whether it’s nature or nurture is anyone’s guess , but sticking your nose in a book is the most convenient method of escapism one could imagine . he takes a liking to truman capote after picking it up during a hospital visit , finds himself lost in the magic of breakfast at tiffany’s . it’s around this time that he starts wondering if he could write books like this , if he could do something to this effect .
he was a socially awkward kid for the most part --- - distant , not always as present as you’d like , perpetual pre - pubescent loner with a head permanently affixed in the clouds . doesn’t help that a generally scruffy , unkempt appearance doesn’t quite gel with the neurotically gift - wrapped , glossy , picture - perfect image of a classroom that was presented in riverdale primary school ; he scared the other kids , unnerved them with a quick mouth and a dreamy look in the eye alike . he didn’t mind not having many friends , it was just something he got used to --- - naturally , though , this changes when archie andrews and betty cooper enter the picture . the world is forever changed ; the world turned upside down .
it’s a strange front they present: perky girl - next - door betty cooper , golden boy archie andrews , and --- - and what ? what glimmering adjectives does he preface himself with ? what praise befits the ugly duckling in a trio’s worth of cherubs ? he doesn’t know , therefore he doesn’t bother . there’s a conflict that rages , a lack of understanding as to where he fits into the picture and well into his adolescence , he genuinely believed that betty and archie only entertain his presence as a joke , something to laugh about later on in the piece . they reassure him it’s not , but suspicion lingers regardless .
that fateful fourth of july changes so much for jughead . his plans for that particular summer included movie marathons with jellybean , a few joints smoked in the bathroom , a foray into writing his first play --- - but in the blink of an eye , his childhood best friends are dragging him into a murder investigation that makes his stomach turn and his trust in a town that once seemed so wholesome evaporate almost overnight . sixteen is too young to feel the reverberations of such a horror , and they leave irreparable scars on good ol’ jug . little does the poor shit know , though , that it’s about to get worse .
hal cooper , disguised as ‘ the black hood ’ , goes on a killing spree and wipes out some of riverdale’s most beloved . his attempt on fred andrews is enough to make jughead want to pack his bags , heft a protesting jb into the back of an ancient car he’s saved up for , and run as far as he can . the events of 2013 only further reiterated that jughead actually wanted nothing to do with any of this bullshit . when the black hood’s identity was revealed , he cut off a blossoming relationship with betty right there and then and hasn’t even DARED to entertain the idea of rekindling it since .
at the same time , the serpents and ghoulies are dragging his family into a turf war and honestly , he’s so sick of this shit . he entertained the possibility of a serpent alliance once , flirted with the idea but watching the war unravel has only pushed him further away . he spends more time on the north side than he does at home , and there’s a good reason for that . he loves his family immensely , don’t get him wrong , but their pseudo - gang bullshit just isn’t for him . subsequently , jughead’s never had any kind of serious involvement with the southside serpents besides familial ties . he wants nothing to do with them .
so --- - to summarise all that mess , jughead’s kind of realised that this shit is FUCKED . he’s still reeling from jason blossom’s murder , still processing how hal fucking killed all those people , and he’s trying to sever himself from warring gangs . keep in mind , kid’s fucking eighteen at this point . he’s a dumb bitch , let’s not make any mistake about that , but he’s a dumb bitch who hasn’t dealt with the trauma he experienced as a teenager .
so anyways !!! let’s skip to present - day jughead , because this is my favourite bit . currently , he works as a freelance photojournalist who writes on the side . he’s written articles for nyt and a few papers upstate , and they’re his crowning achievements . he’s written a few little novellas here and there which are in the editing stage --- - he doesn’t think that any of them are that good , and isn’t really counting on getting them published . instead , he’s focusing on a novel right now ( and no , he didn’t steal the idea from a fucking tumblr post so stop asking ) .
he’s ditched the beanie , ditched that at about eighteen because he realised how fucking weird it was ( sans that ... whole speech ) . his hair and scalp have breathed since , and they’re loving a bit of oxygen .
he still eats like a mf . bitch can cram so much food in there . he can eat even more when he’s stoned , which is usually at 2 am on a saturday morning .
he’s got his own little place on the north side now , a little two - bedroom apartment that he shares with jellybean . they don’t have much , never really have but they’ve got each other , a selection of streaming services and vintage dvds , cheap liquor and all the time in the world . that’s all they need .
anyways fuck ras and his edgelord jughead , all jughead actually wants to do is write and hang out with his sister and watch bad 70s schlock horror thank u for ur time
#pep.intro#❛ : ―― 𝖎. 𝗼𝗵 , 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝘂𝗺𝗯 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵 . ︵ intro .#it's long but it's worth it ... fixin ras's sins one post at a time !#like this n i'll come scream @ u for plots mayhaps
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ft. @auteuer
#OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDD SWEETEST FUCKING BABY ANGELS#❛ : ―― 𝖎. 𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝗮 - 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 . ︵ vis .#❛ : ―― 𝖎. 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁'𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗯𝗲 𝘂𝘀 . ︵ jb .
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