[vinkley]

PRIVATE + SELECTIVE WRITING BLOG FOR SCOOBY DOO’S   𝚅𝙴𝙻𝙼𝙰 𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚈,     written lovingly by romeo    (    22    |   est.  2022    )

(   ʰᵉᵃᵛⁱˡʸ   ) headcanon - based and not canon compliant,     with themes of anxiety  /  being haunted  /  (some) elements of the southern gothic  /  the act of finding oneself  /  the Other.

i.     𝙿𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃

[vinkley]

M    /    SHE'S NEVER BEEN A FAN OF GOODBYES, OR THE THREAT OF SUCH. this one has been put off for a week. it sits in the back of her throat like a bad taste, a rotten cold. the flashlight she carries is cold in her palm; the light it throws over this basement [ a dingy place, old water dripping from the ceiling... ] is a welcome, yellow - white reprieve from the darkness. she turns to the redhead, mouth broken into a small grin: I doubt this place has seen even a fluorescent light in years! silence engulfs them faster than the shadows catch their bodies, flashlight energy flickering once, twice. from the corner of her eye, Velma catches a responding smile, and her heart feels thrice its size.

their search around this area is futile, she knows it already; any existence of clues was checked from her mind the moment the gang had split up, Daphne leading the way downwards and Velma following suit. the smell of mothballs crawls towards her nostrils down here, a confession slouching even closer. ¹ ❝    So ( ... ) –--–     ❞ the single syllable feels like a weight against her tongue, sticky with terror that forms itself into a wedge. she clears her throat and tries again, [ So... ] and this time, the syllable is a little clearer. ❝    i'm thinking of branching out, i mean... y'know how my parents are moving away for the 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓, and i'm going with them ?     ❞ well, obviously. ❝    i dunno. anyways: if i end up running into something, would you wanna come with ? you don't have to, i know HOME'S a really fun place to be after school, and, y'know –     ❞

from behind her, the gentle rustling of papers following syllables, the girl ( @damsul ) allows a scoff from her mouth. “ I mean, where would you even go that I couldn’t follow? ”

...their eyes meet for a moment, and the detective is the first to look away. she reaches to press a hand against the wall, its dampness an expected sensation on her fingers. ❝    i didn't think of that...     ❞ their existences are tethered to the others, shadows sewn by their heels; they lean against each other in tandem, and Velma would not want it any other way. ❝    i'll ask my parents if we have extra room if you really wanna come. i would really love if you did, like, i think it'd be super fun and –     ❞

her hand shifts against the wall to a drier place. a bit of pressure is given, and: ❝    HEY, DAPH ?    ❞

¹ “ ...the confessional may be the difference between saving a friendship, or furthering one's love for another... ” AN EXCERPT: DR. MILDRED VAUGHN, TRUTH AND OTHER SCARIES ( 2010 )

[vinkley]

i think that while velma is an anxious being, she's also very stubborn and opinionated and her anxiety does not stop her from sharing her opinion

[vinkley]

thinking abt velma mystery gang era and her figuring out the mystery halfway thru and not saying anything until everyone's worn out their options or is like rly close to solving it

[vinkley]

velma's apartment is very very very tidy, like everything is labeled and sometimes color coded; the bookshelf is organized by publication date, the only thing is that it's majority self help books and psychology books and books on conspiracy theories and paranormal studies ( mostly by her mother ) and there's a few copies of her first book and her old interviews, and in her bedroom are so many photos of the mystery gang from when they were kids, some mementos from old cases they solved, her college degrees, some harvard things, but then there's like random corners where it's a void where things go missing despite the tidiness like she constantly misplaces her can opener, she always misplaces her favorite pair of shoes..

[vinkley]

M    /    IT RUNS THROUGH HER VEINS, LIKE BLOOD, THE CALL OF MYSTERY. the love of the paranormal, haints like coveted candy to her teeth, work within her flesh the way an engine starts. now, the ghosts of the hour and sliding walls are traded for simpler means of mystery: she cradles a heavy box to her chest, its lid half - open and its contents threatening to spill. I think this'll really get you... the detective begins, swear of a thrill filling her mouth. they stand across from each other, a table separating their bodies, in a warm office space. the low hum of air conditioning runs through the walls, simultaneously satisfying and unnerving. the box is set down on the table with a muted thud and its lid is removed ceremoniously.

❝       (   ...   )  hope you don't mind  ˢˡⁱᵐᵉ  ...         ❞      her lips twist into a grin, head snapping upwards in a quick glance.      the excitement of revelation sits in her like a seed, its roots already taking hold to the corners of her stomach; she is a pit of curiosity despite her attempts to quell it.  the adrenaline comes up in waves, crashing against the tide of her teeth, no respite in returning to itself. it continues, it continues, it continues. within the box, besides folders of papers and photos, is a metal container about halfway full. its contents are brown in color, sludge in appearance. she touches it with a single finger, then retracts quickly.    ❝    my neighbor, now my client, found this in her attic. but get this: there's no mold in there, no signs of tampering ( ... ) HELL, no one's been up there for more than a glance around for a good decade or so... she thinks she uncovered some supernatural residue, left behind by god knows what.     ❞       the air hangs still between them.      Velma's monologue comes to an end and she waits for the other's response, takes a moment to watch her expression.

WORRY SETTLES IN WITHOUT HER PERMISSION. IT OPENS HER JAW AND SITS IN THE CAVITY OF HER MOUTH, waiting... seething...

the other ( @medusacomplex ) fixes her mouth into something the detective reads as sour. there is a pause before her response, a finger lifting from the table and almost – almost! – reaching into the container... “ It’s gross... ” a stifled hum comes from the detective. ¹ A QUICK INTERJECTION: ❝    oh, well, y'know, it's – you –     ❞ and the woman across finishes her statement, eyes meeting opposite gaze and her mouth going from sour to sure. “ ... but also kind of interesting. ”

... the detective waits a moment, and then two. the wind leaves her body and then returns, her own lips edging towards a frown and then away. ❝    it is... [ and then, more assuredly, ] IT IS. it's definitely interesting... my neighbor wants me to check out her attic, find where it's coming from ( ... )     ❞

¹ “ rejection is a fickle thing, and it is sometimes can be a figment of our own imagination. when we feel rejection, it is important to ask just what we feel we are being rejected from. this discovery can perhaps lead to a ––– ” DR. SANDRA SONG, THE ABC'S OF ANXIETY ( 2011, reprinted. )

[vinkley]

ARC   (   ₀².   )     𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆-𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆.     /    m.

    as  this  is  the  main  verse  on  this  blog,       i  wanted  to  finally  make  something  to  solidify  it.         taking  place  post  -  mystery  gang    (   so  post  any  franchise  media  or  otherwise     )      ,      velma   has  left  coolsville       &*       begun  her  own  life    ––––––    working  as  a  private  investigator  with  a  exclusive  penchant  for  paranormal  cases,     velma   balances   this   between  writing  her  second  book     (    a   follow  -  up  to  her  first  one,    GHOSTS  AND  WHERE  TO  FIND  THEM   ,    a  current  bestseller   !!    ).         her  name  is  recognizable,     both  from  her  teenage  years       &*      from  her  current  endeavors       &*      it’s  caught  the  attention   of  a  distant  relative   who  was  placed   in   prison  because   of    those  meddling  kids   !

here  are  some  arc  /  portrayal  notes:

yes,  velma’s  face  is  almost  everywhere.   from  a  successful  book  to  the  mystery  gang,   the  name   VELMA  DINKLEY   is  sure  to  turn  some  heads

the aesthetic on this blog is inspired by clarice starling, my own writing on haunted houses + multiple other media that depicts haunted houses as living organisms. it’s only fitting, to me, that velma’s entire being be compared to a haunted house, as a haunted house is compared to a humanistic organism. there is also some eldritch horror, science fiction, and basic sexy supernatural stuff.

velma’s  full-time  job  is  paranormal investigator, with this bleeding into not paranormal cases –– someone calls and claims to be haunted, turns out it’s a revenge plan of someone they wronged.

velma’s  second  book  title  and  subject  changes  with  the  plot  of  anything!   for  instance,  in  her  marvel  verse    (   or  any  verse  with  heroes   )    she  writes  a  book  on  private  +  public  identity  within  the  superhero  community.

[lizzyisameme]

Alice Isn’t Dead is a new serial fiction podcast from the team behind Welcome to Night Vale.

A truck driver searches across America for the wife she had long assumed was dead. In the course of her search, she will encounter not-quite-human serial murderers, towns literally lost in time, and a conspiracy that goes way beyond one missing woman.

This sentence meme could not have been complied without the use of @alicescripts.  

THIS SENTENCE MEME IS NOT SPOILER FREE

part one, chapter three:  nothing to see

“Sorry, ____. You know I can’t resist a bad joke.”

“You used to like that. Maybe you still do.”

“What was that? What the hell was that?” 

“_____, I’m scared.”

“You know that I get scared. It doesn’t stop me from doing what I need to get done, but I’m scared pretty much all the time, just of living, of life, of going on with the day to day.”

“I’m all alone out here.”

“It’s gross, but also kind of interesting.”

“Oh, god, am I being condescending? I am, aren’t I? Shit.”

“I’ll just tell like it happened. That’s what I’ll do.”

“I don’t know what it means…what it means for me, what it means for you. I’ll…Jesus!”

“You miss me?”

“He sounded like he was having fun.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I mean, where would you even go that I couldn’t follow?”

“People? People won’t help you. There’s not a person in this world who would help you.”

“I could take a big bite of you right now and it would be over. I could devour you.”

“He knew about you. I don’t know what else he knew.”

“I gave up then. I shouldn’t have, but I was out of energy.”

“I’ve been searching for you for so long!”

“If he has to come talk to you, then you’ve been asking the wrong questions.”

“My advice is stop asking the wrong questions.”

“He’s not right.”

“I can’t go home.”

“Home isn’t a place, home was a person.”

“I can’t go home!”

“Oh, man. Listen to me. I sound crazy. Or the world does. The world sounds crazy.”

“I’m not going to stop. I can’t go home, _____. I can only go. I can only go on. And on, and on, and on, until not.”

“They let me off with a warning, I guess.”

“I guess it’s a warning I’m going to ignore.”

[vinkley]

hehe also a big part of the lore of this blog is that velma is investigating her great-uncle ( well known for creating a monster the gang once unmasked ) and his supposedly haunted house that was left by him for her mother, and subsequently for her. this house has a bit of a legend around it, as her great uncle reportedly closed the doors and never exited again, and seemingly disappeared from within. this project of velma's has been going on for two years now, and is very clumsily named the dinkley project.

[vinkley]

as i return to this little space, i'm returning to the idea of velma being filled with terror, housing terror as a home houses its inhabitants. she's lived-in but only when it comes to the way anxiety + terror expands within her, makes a home out of her, breathes inside of her.

[vinkley]

some notes on my portrayal, as well as themes (i’ll add to this as time goes on)

velma is a black lesbian. there’s no way around this.

themes on this blog include: southern gothic horror,     existentialism,    the other,    how anxiety penetrates the skin,     the paranormal (obviously),    the act of finding oneself

velma has written four books, each of them extremely detailed accounts of any paranormal account, any unsolved disappearances, etc. her best selling novel is based around the topic of haunted houses, and their existence in the south.  ( there will be a meta on this later)

velma dinkley, age 25, is a prodigy. having run + developed harvard’s paranormal studies branch at 20.

velma still wears glasses, though she prefers contacts nowadays. however, she keeps her pair on her at all times.

she’s quite the celebrity in the paranormal world, with her books and her branch at harvard. she’s been on the news, in newspapers, etc. however, she is not wealthy.

[vinkley]

scratch that.. reverse it...

[vinkley]

you’re always so right. it must be such a burden.

MEME     /     ACCEPTING.

❝       (   ...   )    ʷʰᵃᵗ   ?         ❞      her head  snaps  upwards,     lips twisted into a grimace.        it’s nervous in delivery,     fear scaling her spine and banging fists into glass vertebrae.       𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖳  begins its acceleration and anxiety pinches her nerves a little too tight.       a laugh echos against her cheeks.      spills into the air as a fast breath.       ❝    sorry,    i   –––   you’re joking,   right  ?     ❞       the air hangs still between them.      the brows furrow and she takes a step backwards,     caution ¹ remaining.         

¹    ❝     when we feel unsafe,   there is often a need to retreat into ourselves.     we find that we are our own safe spaces and it’s up to us to break out of that.    we must learn that this mindset prevents   ––––       ❞      DELANEY  MARLOWE,    WHAT DOESN’T KILL US GIVES US SOCIAL ANXIETY  (2014)

discomfort has sowed its seed,   but she swallows hard.       fingers wring themselves knuckle - white and silly,       a testing phrase on her tongue:     ❝    𝖨 𝖣𝖮𝖭'𝖳 𝖬𝖤𝖠𝖭 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤.      sometimes i can’t help it.     ❞       the laugh she gives is an attempt at easy conversation but it comes out tense,     tight.        her mouth twists into a slanted line and she shrugs,     and the anxiety on her shoulders shrugs with her.       ❝    maybe   (   ...   )     next time i won’t say anything.     we can just be wrong and see what happens.     ❞

[horseman-bojack]

S06E10 - “Good Damage”

[vinkley]

im in the process of looking for a new face claim for velma but i think its fun that velma reads and references self help books and her own writing at times, and how she’s a little bit anxious but is also extremely confident in herself and her knowledge

[rosources]

—   ask meme   :   MABEL,   a podcast by becca de la rosa and mabel martin.   episodes 23 (bull in the maze) & 24 (coalescence).

i’ve been cultivating unkindness. i’ve been cultivating a lot of things — i’m a fertile field, it turns out — but unkindness is the most interesting.

it is unkind of me to try and play a trick on you.

i can hear everything, warped and distorted but broadcast somehow.

i can’t dig you out; i can’t reach my fingers deep enough inside my own brain, inside my own ribcage.

without you, divorced from even the idea of you, i have no substance, no form.

you are the antithesis that gives me definition.

another tragic love story, who needs that?

tragedy is the point.

do you think you have a monopoly on anger?

i’m not really anything like a person.

i love you and love you and love you, just as i am gone and gone and gone.

i can’t imagine a version of myself that would not love you.

i dream of you. sometimes in my dreams you are singing. sometimes you’re raging at me.

don’t leave me.

i killed someone. i killed someone.

i’ll set myself on fire to give you light.

i don’t want you to be lost. i don’t want you to be stuck. i just want you to be free, and joyous, and buoyant.

i woke up needing you, you artery ripped loose from me, all bloody and twining.

time rattles on its hinges.

i’ve come to barter.

do you think i’m as fickle as a human?

are those matches? what do you think you’re doing?

i do not have time for this. you can be angry at me later, you can scream and rage at me when you’re not in danger anymore.

am i the martyr or are you?

there are other ways to get me to shut up, you know.

i believe you. i always believe you.

you’re always so right. it must be such a burden.

i must hate you, is that it? that’s why i did all this, because i want you gone.

i am with you because i want to be. that’s all.

i will love you like a fire loves a forest.

time has made liars and cheats of us all.

i will make a bullet of my mouth. i will make a knife of my heart.

you think you are the monster at the end of this book?

[vinkley]

i’m a believer in velma x daphne but i think the real ship is velma and the girl she used to live across from in elementary school