imagine
1. form a mental image or concept of.
2. suppose or assume.
a book that transport you to riverdale to witness the ships' moments off-screen and your own experiences with the characters. enjoy my riverbaddies and riverdaddies!
REQUESTS ARE...
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Imagine: Veronica mourns her secret love for Fangs after his passing with Jingle-Jangle and lots of champagne. [inspired by Tove Lo's song "Habits" and ship idea from an amazing video edit by @/wickdgods on instagram]
Note: 1) In this story, imagine that Fangs didn't sleep with Midge, but he was in jail for other reasons. 2) Sadly, Fangs actually dies in this imagine. 3) I love this imagine lol
Word Count: 2779
To keep you off my mind
Veronica tossed and turned a bit in her silk-sheet bed in the middle of the night, faint visions and memories of Fangs Fogarty and their brief, hidden romance rustling in her mind, stirring her awake. Stretching her arms reminded her of of his muscles and how they would surround her body when they were alone. His were so toned and tan, warm and loving, but strong and rough.
The bedroom that her eyes opened to mirrored her heart's current state: dark, empty, and cold. The pang of his absence manifested into a blinding migraine. Not having anyone to kiss her forehead as she rose or to whisper a sweet "good morning" into her ear saddened her even more.
Although memories were all Veronica had left of her lost lover, the pain and suffering they caused weren't enough to make them worthy. Veronica truly resented them and often wished their existence away for good, but she was only aware of a temporary fix. She grabbed the orange bottle with her mother's full legal name on it—medicine Hermione took for anxiety brought on upon by Hiram and his business—and swallowed a few with a drink from the family's quality champagne supply.
Spend my days locked in a haze
"My god, Veronica, are you stoned?" Betty asked disgusted, grabbing the her best friend's cheeks to get a better look at her bloodshot eyes.
"Paws off, Cooper. Go interrogate someone else."
"Jeez, Veronica, you're high again?" Kevin questioned, rolling his eyes a bit.
"Wait, what do you mean 'again?' You've been getting high regularly, V? Seriously?" Betty gritted through her teeth.
Before the heiress could interject, Kevin confessed to Betty that he had gone to visit Veronica over the weekend to talk, but found her high. When he came back to check on her the next day, she was still out of it and unashamed.
Veronica huffed out a heavy breath, hoping to tune out their concerns and judgements, and walked to the girls bathroom. She looked in the mirror to be faced with faint dry tears on her cheeks, scarlett-red veins emphasized in her eyes, and bags beneath them that not even concealer could cover. She pulled out the orange bottle out of her luxury handbag to pop another pill before healing her eyes with eye drops. The door opened to display Betty and Kevin, voicing their worries.
"It's none of your damn business—either of you. If you care about me, just leave me alone." Veronica pleaded, straining her already shaky voice.
