#→ main face claim: cole sprouse [ youngblood by five seconds of summer ]

[yourpaljughead]

for @devoutconfidence | verse: the society

Jughead’s brain throbbed at the script in front of him, having tried over and over to analyze its meaning. But he didn’t understand it, not the context nor the names, nor the context of the names. It was BIBLICAL — a type of canon that he was never going to unravel. All the while he was tapping his pen against the page knowing there was only one person in this ‘ new haven ‘ that could help him. Right now ? She was blocks away.

His skateboard knocked against his shin as he bounded his way up the steps of Helena’s home. It didn’t feel weird to knock knowing she was here, knowing where her home was to begin with — there were no secrets in this town, rather, only easy secrets were made readily available. Jug knew his presence on her doorstep was necessary for some puzzle pieces to put themselves together. What he couldn’t account for was Helena — a mystery in and of herself, always READY for the public eye and yet Jug knew barely anything about her.

Maybe that would change today, maybe the books tucked in his backpack had powers beyond the words on their pages.

[yourpaljughead]

for @imthelcstprincess | verse: the 100

It was ‘ earth sciences ‘ hour which meant, on any normal day, it was an hour of time where forsythe pendleton jones iii could space out ( mind the pun ), doodle in his notebook and imagine a million other places to be. Today was different — it was a productive day that offered a sense of independence. He loved the change, and even more, the rush of adrenaline he felt waltzing into the classroom and choosing a spot — THE spot in front of Rapunzel’s desk. The one that would allow him to slide his hand back and pass a note. Important information, of course. Top secret. ( He felt like a spy ).

He tried to keep his face casual as he nodded a greeting to her, but she might notice the way his lips fought from pulling into a smile, or the way his eyes sparkled with mischief. Breaking the rules was fun on his own, but having an accomplice was MUCH better.

Four had ‘ happened upon ‘ ( re: broken into ) the med supply closet. Why Rapunzel needed to know the location and access combination, he had no idea, and had it been anyone else he would have kept this information to himself, but he had TRUST she wouldn’t rat him out. Besides, needing access to the medical supplies made him realize that something bigger was going on — and he wasn’t going to get in between that.

[yourpaljughead]

                      ' the martyr dies and his rule begins ‘

                         indie. private. extremely selective.                                         eulogy given by v.

[yourpaljughead]

for @jrnalst | verse: baby driver

The ringing gave him a dull throb in the center of his forehead, and he knew only a mug of Pop’s coffee would help it. It was always worse on rainy days and today was no different — he glanced up at the overcast day, eyes squinting behind his sunglasses even though they blocked the worst of it. One of those days, one of those days ( yet he’d been having ‘ one of those days ‘ for months now ). Yet perhaps it was the music from this particular iPod doing the damage, and Jug glanced down to see its vibrant green color in his palm. He hadn’t seen a Nano in years. The thrift shop had been kind to him.

He wondered if the owner had been a sad person. More than that, he wondered if he took on too many personalities at once — which one was his ?

The familiar bell rung as he pushed open the door and into the diner, eyes already looking across the table tops for HER. She had become a friend, a confidant, a STABLE PLACE in this chaotic town. Deep down he knew it wasn’t her job to be this figure in his life but he couldn’t help himself from it, and every time he stepped into the diner his resolve crumbled. If he depended on this, then THEY would have something to attack.

Jug sat himself in his usual booth, thankful no one was occupying it today, and tapped his fingers in wait. He probably didn’t have to order ‘ the usual ‘ but he rehearsed it inside of his head. Just in case.

[yourpaljughead]

for @southsidelover | un-requested, un-plotted, random hunger games starter

Forsythe Pendleton ‘ Jughead ’ Jones the Third did not belong here. It wasn’t about merit, or honor, or even ability — some of those things he still had, but it was about intention. To survive meant to find a ruthless part deep inside, a part perhaps dormant until one’s name is called ( or, as tradition in his district, one volunteers ). What he never expected was the utter NOTHINGNESS that came with volunteering himself. No fear, no anxiety, no sadness, no mourning. Just — nothing. A separation. A disconnect. Perhaps, he wondered now, eyes scanning the faces of the other tributes, if they’d felt it too.

It was the dinner of all dinners, a chance for tributes to talk big game, or in Jug’s case, forget why they’re here and try to eat. By the looks of it, half the table feasted knowing it might be their last, the other half, like him, unable to touch the decadence in front of them. It made him sick, just thinking about it. These dinners were rare once the tributes had been chosen. He supposed the Capitol needed a reason to keep them apart, keep the energy high, but a night like this ? Chatting, eating, doing — NORMAL things ? Made for a much more emotional hit when they all turned on each other. Jug wasn’t sure who was worse. The Capitol or all of them.

Jug took his seat nearing the end of the table where the quiet ones all congregated. What was he to do but stare off into space ? Think of home ? No. Drink ? Maybe. Or just keep to himself, stay observant, and try not to think about the coming days ? Probably.

[yourpaljughead]

for @devoutconfidence | continued from here x

                         ❛ Close, but THAT — ❜ he said, lifting a hand to point to the tent tucked away in the trees, a little ways out from the campfire set up, ❛ is where I sleep. And as much as I appreciate your offer, there’s nothing better than a quiet night in the trees. It’s really something. ❜

Jug offered her a smile, his eyebrow raised, because truly, camping out here was better than any warm bed he could get back in town. With the new rule of sharing homes in effect, it wasn’t an option for him, no home nor running water could convince him otherwise. Here he had FREEDOM — freedom to come and go as he pleased, to know he’s truly safe, and to explore the town at night without anyone wondering here he’d gone. Privacy and simplicity all at once.

The boy eased his way over to the fire and squatted down, hands rummaging in a small metal box for the fire starter he had hidden.

                        ❛ I’ve got a bag of marshmallows, too, if you want ? ❜

[yourpaljughead]

for @perfectioncursed | verse: twilight

Forsythe was TIRED — it wasn’t anything in particular today that reminded him of this fact, it was everything all bundled together. He was hungry and hunger didn’t make much of a gentleman out of him, today in particular he could sense something DIVINE. Underneath the sharp glow of the halogens he could smell something sweet, like a trail of sugar and sweets in the air, both fruity and spicy, suffocating him and awakening him all at once.

He had never been hit with something so addicting in his long life, and he knew it was more than just the exhaustion hitting his veins. He needed to refuel and whatever was hitting his senses took hold of his primal needs, pulling him down the hallways, dark eyes looking at every figure for the answer to the clue. If he was ‘ full ‘ he wouldn’t have let himself be dragged around the school this way, but he wasn’t in control, was he ?

Hands opened the door to the school newspaper office, a place he had been into a few times, but today it seemed to be DROWNING in that scent — fruit, spice, hopes, dreams, fate. It was in here, he was sure of it, so, so sure of it . . .

[yourpaljughead]

for @southsidelover | STARTER FOR THE PERFECT DATE | want one ? 

NAME: toni topaz AGE: 17 DETAILS (explain your evening in 100 words or less): riding motorcycles out to some field, star watching, sharing food over a midnight picnic  DRESS CODE / COSTUME (if applicable): leather jacket, good hair PICK UP LOCATION (if required): her apartment MEET LOCATION (if pick up is not required): n/a DATE AND TIME OF EVENT: june 6, 2019!!! LENGTH OF EVENT: all night wink wink FEE: i mean like ok i guess, gosh

His first date on the app came through, pinging his phone, bringing about a grin on his face. Alright, motorcycles and picnics he could do, wasn’t too far of a stretch from his otherwise eventless life. Truth be told he’d been expecting a plus one to something ( wedding, prom, dinner to piss off the parents ) and yet he’d gotten ( what seems like ) a genuine request. Palms needed drying ( which he did on his pants ), and the helmet needed a cleaning off, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from charging head first into this new adventure.

Toni Topaz, he wondered, her name rolling over in his mind as he drove through the quiet streets of Riverdale. Maybe she would go easy on him tonight. But the name seemed familiar, a vague remembrance pulling at his memories — a name, nothing more, and yet GHOSTLY enough to escape him. As he drove he let his thoughts run wild. It kept him from overthinking this experience, kept him from wondering if it was a group of asshole jocks setting him up for a beating. If it was, maybe he’d look good with a bruised cheek.

KNOCK KNOCK. Two raps of his knuckles against the door matching the address. All he could do now was wait — and wonder how this night might fit into his endless stories, make for a memory to look back on, a blip in the otherwise consistent radar. Fair Riverdale, indeed.

[yourpaljughead]

for @toujoursfleure | verse: harry potter marauders era

The thick scent of soot and dust was nostalgic to him, and Forsythe couldn’t help taking in a deep lungful of it. Knockturn Alley was often the place parents warned their kids about — ‘ don’t venture down those steps or you’ll never come out ‘ — but to Forsythe, to the darkest of the Ravenclaws, it was a sanctuary, a place where the deep navy of his school robes could seem forest green under the right lighting.

Today, however, he wasn’t dressed in his robes, but instead the stiff lines of jean jackets and black pants, hands itching to get themselves onto rarities he could fill his backpack with. Beside him was his FAVORITE of all friends, one Narcissa Black, trusted in so many ways, of which Forsythe wasn’t aware of ( yet ). She added to the sense of security he felt down in the depths of Knockturn Alley, much like the hallways leading towards the dungeons or the winding steps up to the Ravenclaw common room. She made him feel WELCOME — and it was a feeling he did not take lightly.

                        ❛ You ever think about how different it’ll feel visiting these shops once we have left Hogwarts ? I can’t help but imagine my own, but somehow the idea of having to come here day in and day out, for endless hours at a time, might take the mystery and intrigue away from it. That’s if we’re allowed to CHOOSE, you know, what we’d like to accomplish. ❜

[yourpaljughead]

for @beyondreproach !! | verse: post season 3

                     ❛ There’s no way, there’s just NO WAY — ❜ he repeated, pacing the length of the dirt outside his Serpent tent. This was where Betty could find him these days because it was the ONLY place he felt safe, the only place he could let his theories fly without their — CHARLES — ( he refused to say ‘ brother ‘ ), or Alice, or any of the new eavesdropping locals catching onto the trouble. Jug had thought the problem with the Farm would die out on its own accord, so foolish and childish and STUPID of him to think that way, especially when the Farm’s reach was far beyond his knowledge. But it had been the quickest of glances, the fastest eye-catch of a familiar grey t-shirt donning ‘ The Farm ‘ plus rainbow that had stopped him in his tracks. He’d never truly understood the term ‘ his blood ran cold ‘ until that very moment.

It was where he’d caught sight that shocked him the most, not that the Farm had more heads than Medusa, no, it had been where. Jug had only been attending his fancy new pre-college prep school for a few weeks, only deserving of 14 mere days of ignorance before reality hit him. He wasn’t in Riverdale anymore and it seemed evil COULD leak across its town lines ( no matter how far-from-reality Riverdale felt ).

                    ❛ Why hadn’t I seen this coming ? How stupid was I to think that they’d all shrivel up and DIE like the aliens in The Faculty. I thought we’d killed the host, but the host is still out there . . .  waiting, biding its time . . . ❜

Jug was still pacing back and forth, a hand now up at his mouth and brows furrowed so hard they might actually stay there permanently.

[yourpaljughead]

for @ferreaus | verse: riverdale post season three

Jughead;s first instinct was to burst into the Whyte Wyrm and find Sansa, to let his rage out on the rooftop with her. He could curse into the wind and descend into the depths of Serpent territory later, and know that he could TRUST her with the weight on his shoulders. But the Whyte Wyrm wasn’t theirs anymore, nor was the Southside, really, and as hopeful he’d been in setting up the Serpent compound next to Sweetwater River, it just wasn’t home. For a boy who hadn’t any idea what ‘ home ‘ was, this was a revelation he didn’t like sitting on his chest.

But the Serpent compound had to do. Jug made his way through the familiar pathways that weaved between the various tents, past the king’s chair and fire pit ( where he kicked Toni and Cheryl out, he couldn’t forget ) and towards the only place he knew that Sansa would be. The thudding in his heart only escalated as he got closer to her because it meant no bullshit, no hiding his feelings, no excuses. He had to own what he felt and this one ? This one was tough.

                   ❛ Knock knock, or should I get you a bell ? ❜

Jug pressed a knuckle against the front of her tent, not wanting to barge his way in on her privacy, nor look stupid talking to no one ( but he’d look stupid anyway ). He was feeling nervous about this one. Perhaps he was taking advantage of her, perhaps he was an idiot who needed a drink, or perhaps he needed to get out of his head — the latter being a true impossibility.

[yourpaljughead]

for @redemptioninterlude​ | STARTER FOR THE PERFECT DATE | want one ?

NAME: marlene mckinnon AGE: 21 DETAILS (explain your evening in 100 words or less): drinking all night at a bar where you pretend to be strangers (how lucky, you are!) DRESS CODE / COSTUME (if applicable): ragged chic PICK UP LOCATION (if required): n/a MEET LOCATION (if pick up is not required): the dive bar of the neighbourhood DATE AND TIME OF EVENT: right here, right now!!!! LENGTH OF EVENT: 3 hours? FEE: paid for in full

The music thumped down the sidewalk before Jug had even arrived, the sound of people having a good time, of laughter and chatter growing louder as he approached the bar. He already felt out of place but he’d dressed to TRY and fit in — ragged chic as Marlene had requested with layers to try and cover up the boy he was with the boy he SHOULD be. He was supposed to be cool, right ?

Maybe this whole ‘ perfect date ‘ thing was idiotic. Maybe it was the best thing he’d ever done.

                      ❛ Looking for a girl named Marlene ? ❜ he asked the bartender, having gotten past the two bouncers with ease. Jug slipped his leather jacket off and looked around the bar, certain that Marlene was somewhere in here but what did he know ? ❛ And I’ll get two beers, as well, actually make it one, ❜ the boy continued, not sure if the bartender was listening, or if he was a creep for ordering an open drink. He wasn’t a bar guy if it wasn’t already painfully obvious.

[yourpaljughead]

for @infinitemagiic | verse: the vampire diaries, semi plotted !

It was the scent that attracted him first. The old, musty, weathered smell of tattered, forgotten books, the kinds that teach you the best lessons. He had always loved libraries as a mortal. There was something to learn in every single book and he’d slave over them for hours, wondering what piece of information he could learn next, what mystery he could unlock with one word. It drove him mad to know he’d never be able to read everything he wanted to ─ and yet fate was some sick, cruel game because now he had Forever and Ever, times infinity, to do so.

Jug’s eyes flashed around and he felt more awake than he had in YEARS ─ this place was some type of magic, and he couldn’t tell whether that was in the books themselves or the owner of this shop, but it made his cold, lifeless skin breathe again. So long he’d waited for something like this. So exhausted he had been night after night stumbling around the streets of this god forsaken town that all he needed was this far-away kind of place, a place to hide, and he’d really find what he was looking for.

                   ❛ Knock knock ─ ? ❜ he called out, shutting the door behind him and the world with it. Every sharp, intense sound of the world around him shut out. This place felt like another world entirely and Jughead wanted nothing more than to stay in it forever.

[yourpaljughead]

for @bubblegumxveil | verse: the society

This was the sweaty palms, cold chills, and stiffened muscles REACTION he had that worried Jug the most. He was TERRIFIED, not at all the calm, collected person he knew back in West Ham. Because the truth was the place they were in and the place they’d left behind were different; secrets and unspoken truths weighing heavy. Being in this mirrored town brought up all sorts of emotions but as much as his own scared him, it was everyone else he was worried about.

It was those fears that had him pacing the living room of Betty’s home, his current place to live given the trailer park was — well, that didn’t matter now, did it ? It was about the CURRENT mystery, and time, and chaos that required his attention. Jug had his hand up to his mouth wondering how Polly could keep the masses at bay. Would it be Betty behind the scenes, or himself, offering advice, or sinking into the crowds to show support ? The government of lost kids didn’t offer a calming place to rest his head. With people like Reggie, Cheryl and Veronica on the move, he and Betty needed to come up with something soon.

                              ❛ So — should I make myself useful and get to the archives ? ❜

[yourpaljughead]

for @snakeblccded | brothers grimm | verse: riverdale s2a

Jughead knew that Charles would pick up the call, and that in some way, it wouldn’t matter what Jug asked  — his brother would be there for him. And he needed it tonight, more than any other night ( which wasn’t saying much because he needed it frequently ), because the weight of his leather Serpents jacket was keeping his feet from escaping Riverdale’s quicksand.

He felt trapped. Perhaps he’d always feel trapped in this town, whether of his own accord or otherwise, Jug knew his life was tethered to the townlines.

So he called and it wasn’t without anxiety, the ever-present vulnerability that accompanied his undercover question  — ‘ do you want to go camping in fox forest ? i have marshmallows. ‘

It was all it took and that’s all it would ever need to take. Charles, ready, supportive, WILLING to accept Jug in whatever form he came in. That was the unspoken ( and sometimes spoken ) understanding in their relationship. Jug wasn’t the easiest to open up, not even with a few beers in, but lately he knew he couldn’t just rely on himself to make sense of the world. He needed someone  — and that someone quickly became Charles, because their brotherly bond didn’t fade with time, or be snapped by fading trust, or be privy to the million other reasons people lost people in this town. Charles could be trusted. It ran in their blood, and so Jug was thankful to be heading out on their adventure together, to the middle of Fox Forest.

                     ❛ Tent first, right ? Or do we just say screw it and build a fire ? ❜ Jug asked, making his way around Charles’ truck, grin wide on his face. They’d MADE it.

[yourpaljughead]

for @gclddustheart | verse: animal kingdom | overdue starter

He was out of place. This fucking side of town felt like a sharp cut to his ego, the way its pristine lawns and painted fences mocked his upbringing. He felt at home in the grime of the Southside even if it was the reason he felt so fucked up — FP overdosing beside him on the couch, the laced drug poisoning his body too far. Jug had been watching Wheel of Fortune on the small, grainy television. Maybe he’d never watch this show again if he could help it.

But up here on the ‘ Northside ‘ with the rich families, he knew he’d hate it, but it was another obstacle in life he needed to overcome. If he couldn’t fit in ( which he suspected he’d never be able to do ), then he would stick out until it became his strongest asset.

                   ❛ I am supposed to report here ? ❜ Jug asked as he stepped into Riverdale High’s newspaper office. The fact that this ‘ institution ‘ had a newspaper to begin with was enough to plague his tone in sarcasm, but wide eyes looked nervous and gave his real attitude away. He was SCARED to be starting over. He didn’t want to be judged as harshly as he was judging them, which was a contradiction he’d have to deal with on another day.

Right now he was looking for his ‘ tour guide ‘ for his first day. He knew it was coming, and with sweaty palms he was told to head down to the Blue & Gold to find his way.