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Favorite Riverdale Relationships: Sweet Pea & Fangs Fogarty

“Fangs is still clinging to life. And whether it was Reggie or Mrs. Klump who pulled the trigger, a Northsider put him there. You took our friend, our land, and you’ll take everything if we give you the chance. So now you get to watch as we burn your school to the ground.”

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Scared Tom is so fucking adorable

I’m actually really not feeling very well.

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Tom Holland in his Hello Kitty pajamas on the set of “Spider-Man: Homecoming” in NYC.

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A quick sketch of Cheryl because I love her? 

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Little Stars - Fangs x Reader

A/N: Couple things, this is an AU where Fangs died as a result of the gunshot. Also, I felt the need to include the whole Shakespeare quote here because it’s my favourite of all time. “When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.”

A gunshot. Blood cascading down his shirt. Your strangled, grief-filled scream slicing through the crowd like the knife in his pocket. His eyes turned to the sky, trying to find constants in his pain. His lids fluttering closed. His hand limp in yours, as if all fight in him had been exhausted by his breaths. Your leader’s voice repeating the news that would break you. Every sleep littered with the Riot.

Waking up and knowing it wasn’t just a dream.

You stirred and immediately tasted salt. Tears, you knew. Toni was in front of you again, as she had been since he一your mind silenced itself. Your mother was there too, one arm wrapped around your shoulder, the other stroking your hair.

...Breathe y/n, just breathe, Toni’s lips said, but you couldn’t hear the words. She was miles away and all that was left with you was the heavy weight on your lungs, the only sound your heart trying to crash its way out of your chest.

The only way you could describe it would be that you had your fingers curled over the edge of a cliff, always on the cusp of death. You couldn’t pull yourself to safety but you couldn’t let go either, couldn’t finally release yourself from your loss and plummet to where he was surely waiting.

But then your coping mechanisms kicked in and you remembered what to do. You squeezed your eyes shut.

What can I smell? Your mother’s perfume, the air freshener she sprays around your room religiously.

What can I taste? Remnants of hot chocolate from the night before, the alcohol that did nothing to ease you.

What can I feel? The soft blankets tangled around your feet; your pyjamas clinging to your skin, damp from sweat.

What can I hear? The steady ticking of your alarm clock, the tumble of the washing machine downstairs.

What can I see? Toni’s face swam back into view and you noticed that she’d been crying too. Of course she was, you weren’t the only one to lose someone and now she had to watch you struggle to keep going without him.

Your mother rocked you for a long time and Toni put her hand in yours, silent tears slipping down her face.

They used to talk about your dreams when you woke up like this, but at this point, they knew what was churning through your mind and no words were needed. All they could do was hold you in their vain attempts to replace his arms.

But you knew nothing would compare to smile only you got to see, the memory of his lips touching yours, the words he told you that he’d never say again.

How could someone who loved so much, be loved so much, be erased in a matter of moments? Every thought of him was edged with haze, like he was already starting to slip away from you. Oh, what you would give for a final moment with him, to say all the things you hadn’t said, to kiss him for all the times you hadn’t kissed him.

I love you, you’d whisper, I love you more than any words can say, let alone what I can think of. I’m sorry I failed you, I’ll pay for it with every day of my life without you.

Morning came, birds too happily chirping on a terrible day. Your outfit had been laid out already, chosen by other hands. Dark stockings, a black dress. As you turned down the collar, you thought of why black was the symbol of death. You flipped through the colours in your mind and decided it should a soft stone. It had the tinge of sorrow in it, and it reflected perfectly how you felt without him. Empty. No note of joy could be found in your life, not even a flicker.

“Are you ready, y/n?” Toni’s voice floated from the doorway. She was wearing a similar outfit: black dress, lace trimmings.

“No.” You breathed, you lacked the strength to say any more.

Requests had been made for his nickname to be given on the programs. Your stomach turned over at the sight of them though. All it said to you was that it was an event. A date to mark in the planner. It was so impersonal and cold. Here we will sing. Here we will speak. Here we will bury him, drowning him in earth where he will be trapped and rotting.

Open Casket. You weren’t expecting that. You stumbled to the front, barely aware that the room had gone silent at your arrival because there he was.

Fangs.

He seemed so small in that large casket. His hands lay over a white lily and there were still lines on his skin were his rings used to sit. A tie had been knotted at his throat, and you spoke.

It came out as barely a breath and pain dripped from every word. “Who put him in a suit?” You asked no one. “He hated suits. He found them stuffy.”

You looked to his face. His eyes were closed and suddenly it hit you like a tsunami wave. You were never going to look at those beautiful eyes again. His chocolatey eyes would go unseen, his velvet voice unheard.

The boy in front of you was not the one you’d loved. It was a crude imitation. A fake.

But it wasn’t. The boy who changed you was gone and he left a body behind and nothing more. At that thought, everything broke. Not just you, but your world, your beliefs, your ideals. Him.

Still clutching the casket, you fell to your knees, pain pouring down your face.

Gone, gone, gone. FP’s words circled around your head as you cried. Gone, gone, gone.

“He should have been scattered,” You said solemnly to Toni as you were driven away. “At the Whyte Wyrm. He would’ve wanted it that way.”

“I agree, but it was his parents’ choice.” And it was discussed no further.

Toni slept on the camp bed in your room again, her faint sniffles slowly fading into sleep.

As you drifted with her, your dream changed. Instead of hundreds of voices, it was just one.

“Hi, y/n. I missed you.”

“Fangs,” You managed to utter, and ran to him.

His arms lifted you up and he showed that smile, the one you loved. Somehow, you knew that all the things you wanted to say had already been said, and he could reply.

“I love you too,” He whispered back. “I love you more than you’ll ever know, and I’ll love you forever. You could never fail me because you’re everything to me. But I need you to do something for me.”

You raised your hands to his face, delicately cupping his cheeks. “Anything.”

Tears stung Fangs’s eyes. “Be happy for me.”

He kissed you gently but every loving thought filled it, the passion between you would sting your lips and the warmth of his skin would never leave your body.

“I love you,” You said again.

You smiled in your sleep.

Masterlist

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I’m never quite cool, if you know what I mean. I’m basically the worst, best superhero.

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Oh my god😂😂😭😂

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Ahh!! I play saxophone🎷 safe to say Sweet Pea is a professional

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AU where Toni didn’t get the message to meet at the Whyte Wyrm until ages

-”Cheryl? Sorry I’m late I overslept.”

-Hiram just looks at her like wtf who is this person

-Does she not understand we are trying to do some evil plotting here

-”Oh. Hi guys. What’s going on here? Fight club? I’m down.”

-”No we’re-”

-”Oh right, ‘don’t talk about fight club’. Sorry ‘bout that.”

-*sees Penelope*

-”Hi Penelopenis. Real quick,”

-launches into a long rant of why she’s a penis

-”SHE IS SENSATIONAL YOU TRASHY BITCH”

-Hiram just standing there

-No idea what’s going on

-Malachi just like “DAMN SLAY”

-Penny looks like she’s having the time of her life

-”You’re a bitch too, Penny.”

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Bright Smoke - Fangs x Reader

A/n: Oh my Lord it has been a long time since I posted anything. Apologies for that.

A Tuesday afternoon at the beginning of summer. It was the kind of heat where people felt like they should be outside, but sitting in the unrelenting sun, free of any breeze, was simply uncomfortable. Unfortunately, while everyone else could escape indoors, you were stuck at work.

Working at Pop’s was usually fun, but today you weren’t even sure why it was open at all; no one was around. A few hours into your shift you gave up on anyone coming in and fished a book out from the depths of your backpack. You flicked through to where the spine was not yet bent and began to read.

Fangs Fogarty gave up on the flannel shirt he’d picked out that morning and used it instead to wipe his brow for the hundredth time. Slugging through the near-deserted car park, Fangs cursed himself for not owning a pair of shorts.

Even the bright lights of Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe were drowned in the overbearing sun but, nevertheless, Fangs pushed the glass door open, listening for the sharp ring of the bell.

The air conditioning hit him like a gale force wind and he almost didn’t notice how your head shot up to stare at him, surprise filling every feature.

“Hi,” You said, closing your book. You cocked your head. “Uh, welcome to Pop’s?”

Fangs slid into the stool in front of you. Even if he didn’t want to talk, sitting anywhere else would have just been awkward. “You’re not sure?” He smiled.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a menu from the rack beside you. “Very funny. But there is literally no-one else here apart from Pop Tate in the back and there probably won’t be for the rest of the day so my question is: what are you doing here alone?”

Fangs had to suppress a laugh at the speed of your words but answered you anyway. “I ran out of things to do at home,” He shrugged. “Plus, nothing beats a Pop’s chocolate milkshake.”

“Coming right up,” You chirped.

Fangs glanced around at the empty booths. “Hey, I’m guessing you’ve been here all day, do you want one too?”

As you set to work making the milkshake you rolled your eyes. “I’m working.”

“Then drink it on that side of the counter.”

There was a cheeky glint in Fangs’s eye. As much as you tried to deny it, it was kind of sexy.

After you slid the glasses down the countertop, Fangs took note of the different drinks. “No chocolate?” He teased, hand on his heart and a look of mock-confusion and shock spread across his face.

You laughed. It was sweet and lilting like a nightingale song. “I’m more of a strawberry kinda gal.”

This came as no surprise to Fangs; you were like an explosion of colour. Though you’d kept the traditional yellow and red Pop’s t-shirt, you’d replaced the red shorts with a bright green denim skirt that flattered the shape of your body. The jewellery that hung from your ears were actual pencils, sharpened until they were tiny and a metal hook stuck through them. Your nails were clumsily painted three different colours, and there were bits of polish on your skin that you hadn’t wiped away.

“So,” Fangs said, wanting to spark a longer conversation with the girl that fascinated him. “Watcha reading?” He flipped over the book resting on the counter, holding it in one hand and taking a long sip of milkshake.

“The Great Gatsby.” You watch him over the rim of your glass. His syrupy eyes scanned the cover (an art-deco style illustration in golds, greens and blacks) and the rings on his fingers caught the light. Suddenly you were very grateful for the heat because it meant you could admire his muscled arms and the delicate snake tattoo on his shoulder.

You fell out of your thoughts with a crash, realising what the tattoo meant.

Fangs’s eyes flicked up cautiously. “Something wrong?”

A blush descended onto your cheeks, not expecting him to be able to read you so easily. “No! I mean, I just saw the tattooー not that that’s a bad thing! I’m totally cool with the whole Serpent thing. Well, apart from the drugs and covering up murder and stuffー wait, that didn’t come out right. I’m obviously not saying you’re involved with all thatー or any of the other Serpentsー I know it was just a few guys and everything and the Serpents are good people andー what?”

You stopped at the sight of Fangs chuckling, hand on his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound. You felt your cheeks grow even hotter.

“I’m sorry,” Fangs defended, “But that was fun to watch.”

“You just love to watch people squirm, don’t you?” You teased, leaning on the counter and narrowing your eyes.

He gave a one-shouldered shrug and a lopsided smirk. “Well, it’s pretty cute when you do it.”

The atmosphere fizzled. “I’m not the only one,” You said, returning the smile.

For the next half hour conversation was threaded with flirty banter, back and forth, each of you standing ready with a retort. Your milkshakes were well and truly melted by the time you finished them and eventually, the dirty glasses lay to one side, forgotten about.

“Y/n! Clean up, please. I’ve been through this enough with you,” Pop Tate sighed, finally emerging from the back room. Sometimes you swore he had a sixth sense for detecting dirty dishes.

You rolled your eyes but nodded, then turned back to Fangs while you washed up. He was standing.

“I should probably head off but I’ll see you around Pop’s next time I’m in need of a milkshake.”

Even though you were a little disappointed, you gave a quick goodbye. Fangs began to walk away but suddenly he stopped in his tracks, door open in his hand. He glanced over his shoulder. “When do you get off?” He says, the gears turning behind his eyes.

You jutted your chin in the air, almost imperceptibly. “In about half an hour,” You said with a toying smile.

Fangs’s face was split in two, his teeth flashing. Slowly he walked over and cocked his head. “Maybe another milkshake won’t hurt.”

Masterlist

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REBLOG IF IT’S OKAY FOR PEOPLE TO SLIP INTO YOUR MESSAGES TO TALK ABOUT THE PROBLEMS THAT THEY ARE FACING AND THAT YOU’RE WILLING TO HELP AND SUPPORT THEM AS MUCH AS YOU CAN

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I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS

It’s Tom Holland I’m dead

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No Sooner Looked, Part 3 - Fangs x Reader

A/N: Sorry the last one was so short. To make up for it I think this one is like three times longer.

Fangs couldn’t help but think about you in the times you weren’t around. Lunchtimes became a regular thing, but there were still too many hours in the day that he couldn’t see you.

Sometimes he felt like kicking himself because he never got this way about anyone, but then he’d close his eyes and picture your face, and he’d remember that you weren’t anyone. You were special.

He didn’t really know why you were special, maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled like nothing he’d seen before; or the sense of humour you kept tucked away, cropping up at the best times; or how beautiful you were, despite how you endlessly tried to cover it up, denying its existence.

All Fangs knew was that he wantedーneeded to know everything about you. Find out everything there was to know until there was nothing left and then you and he could just… be. He’d never tell you that of course. He’d never be able to get the words out.

Nevertheless, he set all that aside the next time he saw you.

“Do I have your number yet? If not then I think I need it,” He said coolly.

“Are you hitting on me?” You said it like a joke but it really wasn’t.

He couldn’t help it, he said it almost reflexively, “I can be.”

The problem was, you knew it was habitual. He could see it on your face. Your smile dropped by a tiny stretch, weighed down by disappointment.

That was it, the careless flirting. With one sentence you were lumped in with all the other meaningless distractions. You knew it didn’t make him a bad person ー he never led anyone on or manipulated them ー but it was always with people he didn’t know very well, even you when he was just getting to know you, like the wink in the cafeteria. But it had been a while since you’d first met, and you honestly thought he had more respect for you than that.

Even so, you tried to brush it off by writing your number on the back page of his textbook. You regretted that later, you should’ve asked for his. This way he’d be deciding when to talk, and it would be you waiting by the phone, something that would only confirm your fears of being another nothing.

Fangs hated that he’d made you feel like that. Of course, he didn’t know exactly what was going through your head but your eyes betrayed your emotions enough. That was something else he liked about you; your eyes really were the windows to your soul.

So, when he got back to his trailer that afternoon, he pulled out his phone immediately. With his friends’ voices ringing in his ears saying, ‘texting so soon makes you look needy’, he pulled out his phone.

Hey, it’s Fangs, he texted, You home yet?

A few minutes went by before a message popped up on his screen.

Yeah, just listening to music

Fangs and you texted for a while about the most insignificant topics. Without seeing each others’ faces conversation was strained. It was like the use of texting created a separation between you. Eventually, the messages dissolved, the response times getting longer and the content blunter.

However, late at night, when you were starting to think about getting ready for bed, another ping sounded through your room.

We’re at the Whyte Wyrm rn, you wanna come?

Through your (truthfully limited) messaging, Fangs hadn’t abbreviated at all. That might’ve meant he’d had a drink or two already.

You weren’t allowed to go out at this time and if anyone else had asked, you would’ve used that as an excuse. But this was Fangs. Fangs could ask you to do anything and you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You texted back and found something to wear as quietly as possible so as not to alert your mom.

It was Sweet Pea’s idea to go out. He usually wanted to whether it was Friday or not but most of the time they didn’t have the spare cash for it. Any money they made usually had to go towards rent and food. However, after a couple odd jobs that month they’d scrounged up enough for a decent few drinks.

Telling you to come was probably a mistake. Fangs was a pretty forthcoming person anyway but after even a small amount of alcohol, any filter he did have went out the window. Sometimes it got him in trouble but what he was worried about then wasn’t that he would say anything negative, but that he would say something too positive. If that meant he had to cut himself off for the rest of the night, so be it.

That couldn’t stop his instincts though, because as soon as you slipped through the doors, though shivering in only a sweater and a denim jacket, a smile crept onto his face. He pulled a beer from across the bar and handed it to you when you approached.

“No thanks,” You said. “I try not to drink all that much.”

He slid the glass back which was happily picked up by Sweet Pea and downed. “Are you okay?” Fangs asked.

Your eyes were wide and kept flitting back and forth, every muscle was tense and you were pulling your sleeves down, something Fangs had seen you do a lot when you were nervous.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just pretty loud in here.”

He furrowed his brow a little. Sure, there were a lot of people there but the noise level wasn’t too high. He was about to mention it when it hit him. Crowded places made you anxious. You’d never told him but it made sense. You barely ever sat in the cafeteria before you became friends with the Serpents, and even then you always sat on the end, never in the middle. He remembered thinking before that it looked like you were ready to run at a moment’s notice. Then he thought of the headphones that poked out of your jumpers and how you always kept your hood up, drowning out the rest of the world.

It broke Fangs' heart that just being there was hurting you so he reached forward and took your hand in his.

Before you registered what he was doing, Fangs was leading you through the bar and up the stairs. He was gentle about it, turning around every few seconds to shoot you a reassuring smile.

Fangs opened a door with a label on it that was so scratched and scribbled on, it was impossible to tell what it originally said. Inside there a few shelves of stock on the walls, and a beaten up sofa mattress on the floor. It was only once the door clicked shut that he let go of you.

Suddenly, a rush of cold went through you, as if Fangs was the only thing giving you warmth.

“Are you okay?” Fangs asked again.

“Sorry... sometimes things get a little much…”

Your voice had gone quiet, and your breathing shook a little. Maybe it was a mistake to bring her upstairs, Fangs thought, I might’ve made her uncomfortable. Still, he crashed onto the mattress, cursing when he realised it wasn’t as thick as expected. That pulled out a laugh from you and you sat cross-legged in front of him, a little more delicately.

A few moments of silence went by before you spoke again. “Fangs, why did you invite me out tonight? It seems like this is kind of a... strictly-Serpent affair.”

He sighed. His back was against the wall, one leg propped up. “I don’t like texting you.”

He didn’t say it as an answer, more like a statement from a different conversation. “It feels like I’m talking to someone else. You choose your answers differently.”

You didn’t respond, you just shifted forward until there were only a few inches of space between you.

“I want to know you. Not some pseudo-version of you,” He continued, and your heart fluttered.

“You know me.” You swallowed.

He leaned forward a little and you suddenly registered how close he was. When you breathed in you noticed that he smelled sweet and sugary. Like caramel. Or vanilla.

“But I don’t. Not really. I know the basics about you but you won’t let me in any more than that.”

There was a tinge of pleading and hurt in his voice and it made you want to tell him everything. 

You couldn’t. 

But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to show a little part of yourself, just enough to appease him and to appease yourself.

“Well, what do you want to know, Fogarty?” You teased breathlessly.

He had a thousand things he wanted to ask. “What do you want to be? To do?”

You sighed, “I… want to change the world, I guess. I just haven’t figured out how I'm gonna do that yet.” You braced yourself for the ridicule, but none came.

Fangs was smiling to himself. It was the perfect answer in his book. “Can I ask another question?”

You nodded.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to answer this one. You said things got too much sometimes. Why?”

There it was. The question. It was like there was an invisible barrier between them, keeping them apart, and it could only be broken by answering his question in full. You ached to knock it down. Then you could let people in again, maybe start being okay again, but a big part of you fought to keep it up. Because the problem with letting people in is that you not just let in the good, you also open yourself up to the bad. You weren’t good at filtering it, it was always either nothing, or everything.

“I… I don’t know. It hasn’t always been like that. Everyone’s got shit. I try to move past it, try to believe that there’s still good in the world, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. Sometimes I’m afraid that good doesn’t exist because there’s so much hate, even just in this town. I tend to avoid people so I can keep denying that, but when there are all these people around and I can’t think and the noise is too loud, everything in my mind just stops.” You were rambling and tumbling over your words and you caught yourself before you spilled. Your paranoia was boiling over and you convinced yourself that Fangs would either run for the hills or ignore it completely.

But he didn’t. He just looked at you with those chocolate eyes you could lose yourself in forever, and whispered reassurances.

You wanted to stay there for eternity, and just when you thought the moment was perfect, it got better. Fangs gently lifted his hand to your face. His thumb brushed your cheek.

Fangs bit the inside of his lip as he worked up the courage. All he had to do was see your unwavering gaze to decide, and he leant forward. When your lips met, everything changed.

You were holding your breath but really, you were breathing for the first time. Like you’d spent your whole life learning to survive underwater and now you’d finally come up for air. When he wrapped his arms around you, it felt more like home than your house ever did. 

Fangs kissed exactly the way you expected ー with all the softness and sweetness of a velvet cake ー but it still made your stomach do somersaults. 

You eventually broke away, but neither of you moved any further than that. Fangs’s arms were still on your waist and your hands were pressed against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat. You wanted to memorise the rhythm and play it instead of music.

The two of you stayed there for a while in near silence, the only sound being each other’s breathing, your chests rising and falling as one.

Masterlist

Part One ,  Part Two

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Humans really have evolved to a higher plane. We can now be entertained by the literal concept of nothing.

Reblog If You Can Take Off Your Bra Without Taking Your Shirt Off.

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15/16. My heart just broke.

I got 14/16 right.

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uhm hello i’m melting

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this has become my favourite thing.