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moonchildreads · 1 year ago

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small town

Chapter 13 - You Give Good Love

IN THIS CHAPTER: Vinegar fumes, an old photograph, and Eddie attempts to hang the moon [9.5k]

WARNINGS: angst, self-esteem issues, mentions of financial hardships, mentions of dead parents, small mention of period-typical homophobia (late 1960s)

A/N: i want to once again shout out my three fairy godmothers, my kindest merryweather (@duquesademiel), my loveliest flora (@justahappycloud) and my sweetest fauna (@gutterratt) for vibechecking dot and eddie's first big misunderstanding. also thank you for teaching me about 80s metal, you were right, dio's the last in line was absolutely perfect for this chapter. i keep thanking you three, and yet it is never enough. can't wait to hug the shit out of you in a month. <3

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I found out what I've been missing Always on the run I've been looking for someone

Thursday, May 8th - 1986

Eddie Munson had the nagging feeling that something was wrong with Dottie Burke. He didn’t know what it was, but he was 100% sure that something was wrong.

For starters, she was being terribly secretive about that textbook she’d borrowed from the library the day before, going so far as waiting until he got up to go pee to return it without him getting so much as a glimpse of the cover. Then it was the fact that her bag looked particularly full and she wouldn’t let him carry it for her, quickly stashing it under her legs as soon as she climbed into his van. She kept her locker closed whenever he was around, and even changed seats to be far away from him during lunch, engaging with Jeff in a conversation about flowers, their heads down and eyes glued to the book they had open between them on the table. But what was perhaps bothering him the most, was the knowledge that the damn mystery card was still hidden within her backpack, tucked between her Home Ec notebook and her Chemistry textbook, taunting him with a peek of its pink envelope when Dottie rummaged through one of her pockets for an extra pen to lend to him during their shared English Lit class.

He couldn’t pinpoint if it was simply him being weird due to the recent discovery of his jealous tendencies or if she really was keeping secrets from him, but something had to give. He was getting increasingly paranoid over every little interaction they had and he wasn’t enjoying his current descent to madness at all. Eddie was planning on asking her if everything was okay between them as soon as they arrived at their destination, but when he pulled into the trailer park, he saw his Uncle gesturing at him to roll his window down, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Don’t get out, boy!” Wayne shouted, jogging to the driver’s side of the van. “Need you to run an errand for me in town.”

“Can it wait?” Eddie asked, turning around in his seat to see Dottie gathering her things. “We were gonna-”

“I need you to take this to Terry,” he slid him a big manila envelope with Terrence McKee’s name scribbled on the front.

“Aren’t you gonna see him tomorrow during your meeting?” he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what the hell did the old man need him to deliver to his Union buddy so urgently on a Thursday.

“Yes but he needs this today, don’t ask stupid questions, son,” Wayne said with an air of finality. “You know where he lives?”

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffed, disbelief tainting his next words. “It’s literally all the way across Hawkins.”

“You better get going then,” he patted the side of the van like one would pat a horse to get him to move.

“Do you mind if I wait for you here?” Dottie asked, hopping off the van before Eddie could answer. “I really need to pee.”

“Go on, I’ll keep her company until you get back,” Wayne said, dismissing his nephew with another wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about her.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Eddie told Dottie, uncomfortable with leaving her at his trailer while he wasn’t there.

“Take your time!” she smiled at him. “Drive safe, ‘kay?”

He nodded once before peeling back into the main road and speeding away. Standing side by side while they watched the van get smaller, Dottie and Wayne could feel the tension leaving their bodies now that Eddie was gone. The older man let out a low chuckle, like he couldn’t believe they’d gotten away with their improvised ruse.

“What was inside the envelope?” Dottie asked, noticing mischief twinkling in Wayne’s blue eyes.

“Half of today’s newspaper,” he grinned, and she was instantly reminded of Eddie’s face when he pulled off something wacky during Hellfire. “Called Terry earlier today, got him to play along. Hopefully he’ll keep Eddie busy for a while.”

“You’re so evil, Mr. Wayne,” she said, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”

“No problem, kid. Come on in, let’s get started before he comes back.”

Dottie stood with her hands on her hips in the middle of Eddie’s room, watching the pure black stain on the ceiling get more and more faded with each passing minute. The furniture was covered in trash bags to prevent it from accidentally getting damaged with the one-part-water one-part-vinegar mixture that Uncle Johnny had instructed her to concoct; the bucket holding the liquid was safely perched on a step of the small ladder Wayne had pulled out for her from an overflowing storage closet in the hallway. While she had been busy soaking the affected surface with a sponge, the eldest Munson had taken it upon himself to give all the carpets in the trailer a much needed refresh with an old vacuum that hadn’t been used in a while. If the loud sucking noises had been of any indication, there had been way more crumbs and dust accumulated in the living room than he’d hoped to find, and the less was said about Eddie’s bedroom floor, the better.

After half an hour had passed without any sign of her friend’s return, Dottie climbed the stepladder once more to begin cleaning up the mold with her trusty sponge and pink rubber gloves. She was pleased to find that just one swipe was good enough to remove almost all the gunk, but Uncle Johnny had mentioned at least two applications were probably needed to get rid of it completely. She was so absorbed into her work that she failed to notice a very familiar van parking outside next to Wayne’s truck; upon entering the quiet trailer, Eddie was confused as to why all the windows were wide open. Noticing that Wayne had fallen asleep on his armchair with their old vacuum at his feet, he tiptoed down the hallway towards his bedroom and pushed the door open, only to find his newest friend standing at the top of the little ladder his Uncle had gotten for him when he first came to live at the trailer park so he could reach the kitchen cabinets on his own.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he said, standing under the frame in shock.

“I’m cleaning!” she smiled at him like it was no big deal.

It was a big deal. It was a huge deal, actually, because Dottie cleaning up his own home embarrassed him to the bone. Suddenly, Eddie was back in middle school and the people he desperately wanted to be friends with were calling him dirty and trash and smelly, and the walls were closing in on him, and there was an acid smell in the air that reminded him too much of when Wayne tried to get rid of his lice by soaking his scalp with vinegar, which in turn reminded him too much of the acrid odor that was embedded into every corner of the house he had once shared with his Dad. Dottie’s usually gentle smile was now taunting him, and when he noticed that she was keeping her hair away from her face with one of his bandanas, deep seated shame bubbled up to the surface, bursting to get out of his system with no regards as to who it would run over in its path.

“Get out,” he gritted out, voice dripping with venom.

“W-what?”

“Get the fuck out!”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Is this fun to you?!” he yelled, eyes hard on her figure still standing at the top of the ladder. “You think you can just come into my home and touch all my shit and I’m supposed to be okay with it?!”

“Eddie-”

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m helping-”

“I didn’t ask you for help!” he heard heavy footsteps coming up from behind him but he couldn’t stop the poison coming out of his throat. “What, was it interesting to see what it’s like to be a broke piece of shit? Did you get tired of hanging out in a shitty trailer? Or did you just want to add me to your list of good deeds? Poor Eddie, I saved him!”

“Edward!” Wayne’s voice cut his tirade short. The older man looked tired with the kind of fatigue only years of hardship could give you. “She just wanted to help you out! I gave her permission to do it, so stop yellin’ at her!”

“You… you knew about this?” he looked at his Uncle, betrayal twisting his stomach. “What the fuck, Wayne!”

“Ed-”

“No! Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Stay out of this!” Eddie kicked his door shut and threw all his weight on it, leaving Wayne knocking on the wood outside before turning to Dottie again. “You turned my fucking Uncle on me?”

“I didn’t- I just asked him if I could clean up the mold stain-”

“Do you think I need you to clean up after me like you’re my goddamn mother? Because I don’t! I don’t need you! I was doing fine before I met you!”

“I just wanted to help-”

“I’m not a child, Dot, you don’t have to treat me like… Like I’m some charity case you have to have pity for!”

A wet sponge flew across the room and hit Eddie square in the chest, right in the middle of his favorite Iron Maiden shirt he’d gotten out of a thrift store bin a few years back. The yellow projectile flopped to the floor where it hit the carpet with a squelch; Eddie looked up to Dottie to find her face had turned red, her jaw clenched in barely contained rage. She threw a fucking sponge at me, he realized, wary of what else could she’d throw his way. Her bucket was perfectly within her reach.

“Are you done?” she raised her voice, louder than he’d ever heard her.

“I-”

“I asked, are you done yelling at me?!” her hands turned into rubbery fists, eyes narrowing to look down at him from her vantage point. He didn’t dare reply. “I asked your Uncle for permission to clean the mold stain because that’s what’s causing your allergies. You’re getting sick from it and it could be dangerous!”

“How do you-”

“Do you really think it’s the first time I’ve seen mold in my entire life? Give me a break, Eddie, how sheltered do you think I am?”

“If you had such noble intentions, why didn’t you ask me about it instead of going behind my back and asking Wayne, huh?”

“Because you don’t let people help you! No, no, no,” she lifted her gloved hand to cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth. “You don’t get to argue back. Gareth has to hide gas money in your glovebox so you don’t try to give it back to him! Donny acts like he wants your peanuts so you eat the extra lunch he brings for you without complaining!”

“I don’t want your pity!”

“It’s not fucking pity! We want to help you out because we love you!” Dottie threw her hands in the air with exasperation. She exhaled loudly, shoulders sagging, defeated. “Don’t you fucking accuse me of seeing you as a goddamn charity case ever again, Eddie. If you can’t see by now that I think the absolute world of you, then I don’t know why we’re even friends anymore.”

There was a heavy silence in the room, and Eddie could feel his anger and humiliation turn to guilt. He stared at her with wet eyes, regretting every single word that had come out of his mouth since he’d returned from his strange errand. Dottie was breathing heavily, lips turned downwards, biting the inside of her cheek; he had seen that face before and instantly knew that she was trying her hardest not to cry. He felt like such an idiot. Of course that what he was feeling was completely justified but he had just accused her of essentially tricking him into a friendship only to mock him, like she hadn’t consistently shown him how kind and selfless she truly was.

Putting his pride aside, he launched himself across the room and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head into her chest and squeezing her tightly so she wouldn’t fall from the ladder she was still standing on.

“I’m sorry,” he said, clutching the back of the paint splattered shirt that had clearly once belonged to her Dad. She must have brought it from home to protect her clothes while she cleaned. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, pulling her gloves from her hands, letting them fall to the floor before dropping her arms around his shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You’re right, I should have asked you before I did it. That wasn’t cool of me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But I still shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said, holding him tighter. “I would never pity you, Eddie, you have to know this. I admire you so much, I could never think any less of you. You’re one of my best friends in the whole world.”

“You’re one of my best friends too,” he admitted, looking up at her, his chin resting on her stomach. “I just… People are always judging, you know? And I don’t want you to see me differently because I’m… struggling.”

“I’m not trying to fix your life, or do charity with you. I just want to help you out the same way you help me out, and that’s what friends do for each other, okay? If you won the lottery tomorrow and moved to a big ass mansion in Loch Nora, I’d still help you out.”

“Because you love me?” he risked a little joke, testing the rocky waters between them.

“Yes, dumbass. Because I love you,” she said, fingers tangling in his wild curls, and despite the fact that he was sure his heart had never raced faster in his life, the waves lapping at his feet had never felt calmer.

If Eddie was taking more alternative roads and going slower than usual while taking Dottie home, neither of them said anything about it. They had spent the rest of their day together cleaning Eddie’s room as a team, her on ceiling mold duty and him wiping down every dusty surface and shoving things into his drawers and closet to deal with them at a later date. When they were done, they threw themselves onto his bed so she could quiz him on Sociology, trying to get him ready for his last test of the year before finals week. Wayne did not attempt to talk to either of them for the remainder of the afternoon, but he had hugged Dottie goodbye with a smile on his face and subsequently given his nephew a stern look that warned him about the scolding he was gonna get when he came back from dropping her off. Eddie had no doubts that his Uncle had overheard the rest of their conversation through the door and heavily favored her side of the argument.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” he asked with a timid voice as he pulled into her street.

“You know I’m never gonna say no to tacos,” she said, turning in her seat to look at his profile. “Kinda been looking forward to it all week, actually.”

“Was really hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. “I’ve been looking forward to it too.”

“Taco Friday is still on then. They better be good or I’ll be so disappointed.”

“You won’t be, trust me. Best tacos you’ve ever had.”

“I’m counting on it. See you tomorrow, okay? Please go over your notes one more time before the test.”

“Will do, Captain,” he saluted, watching her jump off his van and walk backwards towards her front door.

“I mean it, Munson! I want to see you get at least a B or your ass is grass!”

“I’ll get you more than a B, princess, I promise!” he said, grinning when she rolled her eyes at him before scurrying inside.

He was in a fairly good mood again when he walked into the trailer, but instantly stiffened up when he saw his Uncle standing at the sink. He waited by the front door in silence for a few seconds before trying to disappear into his bedroom when Wayne put down the dish he was washing and turned around. His face gave away nothing as he motioned to the couch with his head. Oh, boy. Eddie sat down quietly and stared at the carpet. The eldest Munson crossed his arms and stood next to the coffee table, knee bumping Eddie’s to make him look up. He didn’t. The faint sounds of the trailer park settling down for the night were ringing in his ears.

“You two make up?” Wayne asked, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah. Sorry about the yelling.”

“S’alright. You know what she said to me? When she asked about the stain?” Eddie didn’t reply, so Wayne kept going. “That she’d rather have you angry at her than see you cough up blood.”

“I didn’t know it was toxic. I thought she was just… being judgy.”

“Now why do you think she was being judgy?” Eddie only shrugged and Wayne sighed, changing tactics. “You do things for her sometimes, don’t you, Ed?”

“I guess,” he could feel his ears start to get red.

“You drive her around, get her snacks. Made her that shirt for her birthday too, ain’t that right?”

“We’re friends,” he argued back, although he didn’t really know what he was getting agitated about.

“Do you judge her because she can’t drive herself?”

“What- no, of course not, I’m not an asshole!”

“Do you judge her when you buy things for her?”

“No!”

“Then what on Earth made you think she was gonna judge you, huh? That any of your friends judge you?”

“People like that always judge,” he grumbled.

“People like that?” Wayne repeated in disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means,” Eddie finally looked at his uncle, exasperated. The older man lifted an eyebrow. “People that don’t live in a trailer park,” was what Eddie said. People that don’t have to decide what bill would hurt them less if it didn’t get paid on time. People that go thrift shopping for fun and not out of necessity. People that graduate on time, and go to college, and live in a suburb, was what Eddie implied.

“Y’know, for someone as perceptive as you, you can be really dumb sometimes,” he chuckled bitterly. “Open your damn eyes, boy. I know you ain’t blind. You’re not the only one who’s had a hard life ‘round here, so quit the self-pitying.”

Wayne could picture the cogs behind Eddie’s confused expression start to turn as he pondered on his words. A few seconds of silence passed between them before the eldest Munson fished his cigarettes from his shirt pocket and headed outside for a quick smoke. He turned around when he reached the door; Eddie was staring at him but his eyes were unfocused, mind miles away.

“Ed?” Wayne called, and his nephew’s head jerked violently, snapping out of his trance. “You be good to that girl, son. You don’t find people like that every day.”

Never in his almost twenty years of life had Eddie felt as productive as that day waiting for Wayne to leave for work. He’d vacuumed his bedroom carpet, put a new load of clothes in the washing machine, had dinner, washed the dishes, dried the dishes, and reorganized his tapes, all in an effort to keep moving, not stopping to think once. He was sitting at the kitchen table drowning himself in the dull black and soft gray of Jeff’s photocopied Sociology notes when his uncle finally laced up his boots, turned off the TV and headed out for the night, leaving him alone with the thoughts that could no longer be ignored.

He remembered the random five dollar bills he often found in his van: in the glovebox, between his tapes, tucked into the sun visor, laying on the dashboard. He’d always assumed he’d left them there while he was high or drunk after a gig; Gareth had never mentioned them and Eddie wasn’t a stranger to misplacing his own things so he’d never had any reasons to question his friend about it. He thought about befriending a freshman Donny when he was a junior, only a couple of months before he started selling weed and still couldn’t afford cafeteria lunches, bringing whatever little leftovers he could find in the fridge to keep his hunger at bay during the school day. He’d never given much thought to the fact that Donny kept asking him to trade a few peanuts or half his apple for a whole sandwich, not when his friend kept pulling excuse after excuse (“I hate this kind of cheese, please take it or I’m gonna throw it away”, “My sister made waffles for breakfast, I’m not that hungry”, “Dude, you know I love chocolate covered pretzels, come on, trade with me?”) and he was always happy to say yes. Donny hadn’t stopped doing it, only slowed down on the frequency once Eddie started selling and now had extra pocket money to spend on whatever he wanted.

Throat constricting, he looked down at the notes in front of him and saw Jeff’s handwriting spelling names and concepts he should be memorizing. Eddie hadn’t made the copies, Jeff had. He had gone to the library during one of his free periods and spent his time photocopying his own notes so he could give them to his long haired friend before their exam. Eddie wondered how many more things they had done for him throughout the years without getting so much as a thank you from him, and never once expecting anything in return. Never looked at him differently, never made fun of him, never questioned him. I’m a fucking idiot, he thought bitterly, before Wayne’s words rang in his ears. “You’re not the only one who’s had a hard life”, he had said.

Eddie twirled his pen in his hand, noticing it wasn’t his. It was Dottie’s fluffy pen, blue ink with a pink pompom that he loved tickling his own chin with. She was very protective of her things, never hesitating to lend them out to her friends but always having a sort of nervous anxiety until they were back in her hands. Dottie, who always waited to see what everyone else was picking at the diner before placing her own order. Dottie, who loved apple Kool-Aid and didn’t like sodas unless it was a special occasion, who knew how to bake and cook with whatever was in the fridge, who never threw away pencils until they were so small she couldn’t grab them anymore.

“Ah, fuck,” he said out loud, the weight of the words he’d carelessly thrown around at her rooting him to his chair.

Dottie who cut the toothpaste tube in half to get everything out. Dottie who always said “it’s thrifted!” or “I made it!” whenever someone complimented her on a piece of clothing that she was clearly proud of. Dottie who hated doing math but could calculate the price of things that were on sale quicker than she could read her own dice during a D&D session. Dottie, Dottie, Dottie. Eddie let his head hit the table, forehead sticking to a piece of paper. How had he missed all the signs? He’d accused her of looking down on him and all this time he’d never once stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, she knew exactly what he was going through. He’d been so concerned trying to hide all the things he feared she could judge him upon, and instead had been judging her all along.

He had to fix this. He had to show her that he was sorry for what he’d said, that he wouldn’t judge her anymore. That all this time he’d been wrong, and she’d been right, and that he was a Grade A Idiot who had gotten lost in his own head a little bit too much. Staring at an old camping lamp he’d found under his bed while he was cleaning, Eddie decided that to make things better he would simply have to hang the moon for Dottie.

Friday, May 9th - 1986

“Hey, Chris?” Eddie said, staring at the trees above him. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Is it illegal?” Chrissy replied, following the dancing leaves with her eyes.

“Absolutely.”

It was a sunny Friday, the kind of day that just made you itch to be outside, which was exactly what Eddie and Chrissy were doing after school while they waited for their extracurriculars to start. They were hanging out in their secret spot in the woods, lying on the seats of what they had claimed as their picnic table, looking up at the mostly clear sky while passing a joint back and forth under the wooden surface that separated them. Chrissy had been complaining about how someone on the Prom Planning Committee hadn’t booked the DJ they’d wanted on time and now the guy wasn’t available anymore; she had been scrambling all week trying to find a decent replacement or else everyone in their senior class was going to have to get down to someone’s cousin’s shitty mixtapes. As their shared blunt got smaller and smaller, she was thankful that she not only had a new vice to indulge in when things got overwhelming, but also had Eddie, who always listened and reacted accordingly to her frustrated rants.

“What do you need?”

“Can you sell me a couple of prom tickets? I really don’t wanna ask Kemper about them, she’s such a bitch,” he groaned.

“What did Luce do to you?” she turned to look at him, confused.

Lucy Kemper was a meek looking redhead that knew she was going to be an accountant since she was 12, and because of that, she’d appointed herself as the Committee’s treasurer as soon as she reached senior year. She said she didn’t trust anyone else handling money, so she’d taken it upon herself to be the only one selling tickets for both the junior and senior proms. Other senior students had, in turn, started calling her The Ticket Peddler - it remained to be seen whether it was an affectionate nickname or not.

“Well, for starters, Luce is the one that started that rumor about me stealing underwear from the girls’ locker room.”

“What? They literally caught Tommy Hagan breaking into a locker, Billy Hargrove dared him to do it as their last senior year prank, it was so gross. Why did she say it was you? Everyone knew it was him, it was all everyone talked about for two weeks.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Eddie said sarcastically, the smoke he had been holding in his mouth getting lost into the breeze. “That’s why she had to drop it, but that didn’t stop Higgins from interrogating me twice about it before your coach caught Hagan red handed.”

“I hated that guy, he was such a little creep. And I didn’t like how he treated Carol at all.”

“Carol Perkins was a bigger asshole than her dumbass boyfriend ever was,” he declared, offering the burning joint to Chrissy with a lifted eyebrow.

“Not to me! She was always really nice. She let me borrow a tampon once,” Chrissy said, taking a drag.

“Ew.”

“Periods are completely normal, Eddie.”

“I had to take Health class twice, I’m not scared of periods. I said “ew” because you borrowed a tampon from the Witch Queen herself. You know, I’m surprised she didn’t ask you to give it back, guess she wasn’t in the mood for a blood ritual that day.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Chrissy giggled, making him crack up too. “I’m sorry about Lucy, though. She shouldn’t have done that.”

The more time Chrissy spent with Eddie, the more she wondered how many people around her had been horrible to others right under her nose without her noticing it. She knew that Jason could be mean to the metalhead sometimes, but she figured it was just a guy thing; Eddie stood on tables and badmouthed Jason, and Jason did it right back to him, and so on and so forth. Her boyfriend wasn’t a bully, was he? They both gave as good as they got, neither shied away from conflict when it concerned each other, right? It bothered her to know that maybe she’d misunderstood the situation all along. How many times had she walked past someone being mistreated and not looked their way twice?

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge and all that,” Eddie waved his hand like it wasn’t a big deal. It was to Chrissy. “So, can you sell me two tickets today and hold three until next week? I’ll round up the money and pay you for those on Monday.”

“Sure! Why two today though?” she asked curiously, putting out the roach on the underside of the table and letting it fall to the grass before it began burning her fingers.

“I have another study date tonight.”

“Oh my god, are you promposing?” she suddenly sat upright, eyes twinkling with excitement. “I thought you said you were all going together as a group! What are you gonna wear? Are you taking Dottie to dinner before too? You have to get her a corsage, I can help you pick a nice one if-”

“Jesus Christ, slow down,” he said, clumsily lifting himself up from the bench until he was also sitting down across from her. “I’m not promposing, we’re still going with the guys as a group. I just… kinda fucked up yesterday and wanted to do something nice for her. Make things right, y’know?”

“Define “fucked up” for me, please.”

“I, uh, I got angry and said some things I didn’t mean. There’s nothing to worry about though, we talked it out and we’re fine. We’re going out for tacos tonight.”

“Another date that isn’t a date, huh? I’ll have the tickets ready for you after Hellfire on one condition,” she teased him. “I want first row seats at the wedding.”

“Sweetheart, if we get married, I promise you I’m picking you as my Maid of Honor slash Best Woman slash whatever that shit's called.”

“Deal,” Chrissy stuck out her hand for him to shake on it and he grinned brightly.

It occurred to her right at that second with his hand on hers, that once they left high school, this regular hangout she enjoyed so much was no longer going to happen. Their picnic table wasn’t gonna be theirs anymore, left abandoned for other misbehaving kids to take ownership upon once the new school year started. No more smoking together, no more listening to each other's cassettes, no more lying on the benches and pointing out funny cloud shapes until their faces were red with mirth. And now Eddie was talking about his future like she had a place in it, and Chrissy wondered if her future had enough space for Eddie too.

"Eddie? What's gonna happen after graduation?" she asked, tracing a happy face with crosses for eyes that was carved into the wood with her index finger.

"Dunno, I'll probably try to get a job during summer. Weren't you going to Asscrack, Ohio early for the preseason?"

"Yeah, but that’s not until August. And stop calling it Asscrack, Ohio! OSU is literally in Columbus!”

“You could have gone anywhere and still chose Ohio. What kind of demented person chooses to live in Ohio?”

“They’ve won the UCA Nationals three years in a row, I want to win too,” she shrugged. “But that's not what I asked, I meant it more like- I don't know, like, what's after graduation for us, y'know?"

"Oh," he looked at her carefully, trying to gauge her thoughts by her anxious expression. "Well, what do you want to happen?"

"I don't want us to stop being friends," she said, getting straight to the point. "I like hanging out with you, I like that I can be myself when you're around."

"I like hanging out with you too, really, I do, but I think your Mom might ground you until you're 30 if she ever sees us together," Eddie warned her.

"She doesn't have to know. We can… we can hang out in secret until I leave for college. And you can come visit sometime! You and Dottie and the guys. I’d love to see everyone again."

"You wanna be friends with the freaks?" he asked, disbelieving.

"You were the one who said I was a freak too!"

Eddie really wanted to believe her, he really did. He wanted to call Chrissy to tell her the news whenever something good happened to him, wanted her to come to The Hideout and watch Corroded Coffin perform before college inevitably made it impossible, wanted to pay her back for her support and advice by being there for her during hard times. He wanted her and Dot to become friends like he knew they could be, for them to have girl nights where he'd pick them up from a bar all rosy cheeked and giggly, singing Pat Benatar until they fell asleep in his backseat.

He wanted all of that, because he actually really fucking loved being friends with Chrissy Cunningham, Queen of Hawkins High and Head Cheerleader, but also because it would mean that they had never been so different after all. That high school cliques and hierarchy didn't mean shit once you were out of that dreadful place. That people could change, and come to understand each other and that maybe Hawkins wasn't the shithole town he desperately wanted to leave behind.

Eddie really wanted to believe Chrissy, but he didn't. Not entirely. Not yet. However, given recent events, he decided there was no harm in giving her the benefit of the doubt if she was so willing to extend it to him too.

“How about we start with you signing my yearbook and see where that leads us?” he offered.

“Only if you sign mine too.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled at her, and Chrissy had the feeling he wasn’t lying at all about her being his Maid of Honor-Best Woman-Whatever It Was Called whenever he got married.

And luckily for him, she was serious about accepting the offer too.

“Did you pick one?”

Eddie climbed back into his van with a bag full of Mexican food to find Dottie going through all his tapes, the cases balanced precariously on her thighs. The parking lot was quiet, but soon it would start filling up with misbehaving teens looking for a bit of fun on a Friday night. Hot Sam was another survivor from the Starcourt Mall fire; they had relocated to Mulberry St. in Downtown Hawkins after collecting a big fat cheque from their insurance company and had managed to infuse a little bit of nightlife into an otherwise deserted area. The owners were just grateful that the still-in-construction Taco Bell at the mall, in order to not associate themselves with a tragedy, decided to leave the town altogether instead of moving somewhere else, leaving the Hawkins Taco Kingdom to be disputed between themselves and the owners of Olé Amigo!, who quite frankly didn’t know what a poblano was even if it hit them right in the face. Dottie huffed loudly as Eddie turned on the van and began backtracking out of the parking lot, right hand behind her headrest.

“Why are all your tapes in the wrong cases?” she complained, snapping Mercyful Fate’s Melissa shut.

“Gareth thinks switching them out is the peak of comedy.”

“He’s such a gremlin,” she said, putting another tape in its rightful case.

“Which one are you looking for?” he asked, glancing at her hand shaking Dio’s The Last in Line’s empty case. Wordlessly, he ejected the cassette that was in his van’s deck and lifted an eyebrow. “It’s ready to go.”

“How did you-,” she interrupted herself and chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief while pushing it back in and pressing play.

He shrugged, heat blooming in his chest as the first notes of We Rock rattled his windows. It had been a coincidence, he’d been listening to it as he drove to school that morning, but there was a part of him that always got giddy whenever she willingly chose to partake in his interests. He knew she always carried around a couple of her fave tapes, and there were enough mixes with non-metal songs in his glove box, so the fact that she’d picked one of his favorite albums was nothing to scoff at. She didn’t always like everything he showed her, but she still tried to understand it because it was important to him, and that meant more to him than she’d ever know.

When they missed the turn that took them to the entrance of the trailer park, Dottie eyed him suspiciously, his face carefully schooled to look very nonchalant. His fingers were tapping the final beats to Breathless on the steering wheel when he pulled into a road flanked by trees on both sides.

“Eddie? Where are we going?” she asked, looking out of her window.

“It’s a surprise.”

“You know I don’t like surprises,” she said, hands starting to sweat and the skin on her neck prickling.

“I promise you it’s nothing weird,” Eddie said, lowering the radio to a low rumble and letting his right hand fall to her left knee. He squeezed it comfortingly, but it only made her more nervous. “There’s a place I like to go for a smoke at by the lake, I just thought you’d like to see it. We can go back home if you don’t like it but it’s not scary, I swear.”

“We’re going to Lover’s Lake?”

“No funny business,” he insisted. “It’s just a really pretty place to hang out. And we can leave as soon as you want.”

“Okay. Sounds nice,” Dottie said, heart racing as she placed her palm on top of his hand and squeezed back.

Eddie didn’t remove his hand from her knee until he had to change gears to get onto a dirt road, thumb rubbing in circles over the bone underneath her jeans. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the possibility of something happening between them or nothing happening at all. The anticipation was eating up her insides as he parked the van in reverse under a thick tree like he had done it a million times and killed the engine, cutting One Night in the City off. A gentle breeze ruffled the grass and leaves around them, dull silence threatening to swallow them whole.

“Stay here for a second, okay?” Eddie said, patting her knee a final time. “Don’t turn around, I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”

“Okay,” she answered, but her voice was swallowed by the loud slam of the driver’s door being closed.

She heard him walk all the way around the van, open the back doors and get inside. He shuffled around for a few seconds before he hopped off and hurried to her side, opening her door and unclicking her seatbelt.

“Close your eyes for me, yeah? I’ll guide you,” he said, nervous energy bouncing off his tongue.

“Eddie, you’re scaring me,” she admitted, voice weak, feeling his hand remove her backpack from her shoulder and the bag of food from her tight grasp.

“Trust me, you’re gonna love this,” he took both of her hands in his and started walking her to the rear of the van and closer to the shore. “Just follow me, follow my voice.”

“Please don’t push me into the water,” she said, memories swirling in her mind. Jeannie locking her into a dark closet at a birthday party while they played Hide and Seek. Howie “accidentally” shoving her into a muddy puddle during a rainy field trip. Eddie’s fingers gripped hers tightly.

“I would never, darling. Just a few more steps, I’ve got you.”

When they reached their destination only a couple of feet away from the van, Eddie let his hands roam from hers up her arms all the way to her shoulders where he gently applied pressure to let her know he was still there. He stood directly behind her, leaning forward a little bit to match her height.

“You can look now,” he muttered over her right shoulder, equal parts nervous and excited.

Eddie’s secret Lover’s Lake spot was a little natural clearing right across the lake houses that belonged to the privileged few in Hawkins. Most of them didn’t live there; their everyday addresses were located mostly in Loch Nora, but they used these particular houses as a weekend getaway sort of space, a secluded oasis in a shitty little town the rest of the country had forgotten about. Eddie found a certain charm in sitting in the back of his van staring at the twinkling lights of those giant residences, watching them throw their entitled rich people parties from a safe distance where they couldn’t see him intruding on their privacy. He’d get high and observe them come and go, the voices belonging to drunkards only rarely carrying across the water, wondering what would he do if he ever had a house like that.

The water licked the dirt edge with barely audible waves, crickets chirping in the distance, birds settling into their nests for the night. Dottie watched and watched, the moon reflecting on the unperturbed surface of the lake, the boy behind her sitting with his legs dangling from the back of his van, one of his cigarettes perfuming the air between them. It was peaceful; she could understand why he’d come here to clear his head, be alone with his thoughts.

“This is beautiful,” she whispered, not wanting to break the bubble that had formed around them.

“Told you to trust me,” he said, the side of his mouth lifting in a smile as she turned around to look at him.

If the lake at night had seemed beautiful, what was in front of her was downright mesmerizing. Eddie sat a little to the side, feet swinging back and forth in the air, his weight resting on his right arm while he held his half smoked cig with his left hand. Behind him, he had set up an upturned plastic crate covered in blue gingham cloth as a table, various cushions and blankets were strewn around on the hard wooden floor, and a small camping lamp rested on top of an amp that belonged to Jeff. The soft yellow light illuminated him from the back, his wild hair looked like a halo, his figure surrounded by his broken, frizzy curls. He had set her backpack to a side with his and the bag of food waited for them unopened on top of the crate.

“This is for you,” Eddie reached into his jacket and pulled out a thin envelope.

Dottie stared at it for a second before opening it, then at Eddie, and then back at the papers in her hand. Two prom tickets. One for her, one for him, she assumed. Is this a joke? It would be cruel if it was, and she knew him to not be cruel. Maybe to others, to bullies, but not to her. Trust me, he had said. The photo hidden inside her bag was screaming, begging to be released. She swallowed the knot in her throat and looked at him with wet eyes.

“W-what is this?”

“I was an asshole to you yesterday. A complete and total asshole and you had every right to throw your dirty sponge at me, and I’m sorry.”

“You were upset.”

“Yeah, I was, but… I guess I’m just so used to people judging me that I thought if I did it first, it would hurt less. And it totally doesn’t work like that,” he chuckled, flicking ash onto the grass. “I want to make it up to you. You’ve been so nice to me all this time and I’ve just been a fucking idiot.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I have, but it’s okay. I’m not planning on being one anymore. Not with you at least,” he threw his cig to the side and extended his hand to her. Dottie accepted it instantly and let him pull her closer. “I know we said we were all gonna go together to prom, and that’s still the plan, nothing has to change. But I didn’t want you to have to buy your own ticket.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“No,” Eddie held her hands in his. “It’s a thank you. For cleaning my room, for taking care of me when I get sick, shit, for helping me graduate. I’ll deny it if anyone asks because as Club Leader I can’t exactly pick favorites, but you’re at the top of my list, darling.”

“Really? Top of the list?” she whispered theatrically, thumb playing with his.

“There’s you, a small gap, then Erica because she scares me, a big gap, the rest of Hellfire, another gap, and Mike.”

“Why is Mike at the bottom?”

“Have you seen his hair recently? He’s trying to steal my look. Can’t have that, they’ll think I’ve gone soft.”

“You are soft,” she said, pointedly.

“I’m Satan’s lost son, princess, haven’t you heard? I’m corrupting children with my dice and cool dragon stories,” he grinned, thoroughly enjoying how easy it was to slip into banter with her.

Dottie looked at their entwined hands with a heavy heart. Here he was, opening up to her, accepting his faults and wanting to change, and she felt like such a hypocrite. All Eddie did was wear his heart on his sleeve. He was open, and honest, and even when he was scared and lashing out there was still a heavy dose of truth embedded into everything he said. He wasn’t a child who needed coddling, he didn’t want anyone’s pity because his life was rougher than others’. He just wanted to be Eddie, wanted people to look at him like that’s all he was: not a failure, not trailer trash, not a sob story. Just Eddie. And Dottie didn’t want to be Just Dottie.

Everything about Dorothy Burke had been kept under several padlocks from the moment she could talk, and every time something important happened, a new one would get added to the chest. There was a key for each padlock, but she guarded them fiercely, only lending them out to her Dad or one of her Aunts and Uncles, immediately asking for them back as soon as they had peeked at her secrets inside. There were systems in place to not have to talk about things. There were schedules, and lists, and routines. If everything looked right from the outside, then everything was right, so Dorothy Burke didn’t get into trouble, didn’t get bad grades, didn’t fool around with classmates who could look into her a little bit too deeply. Everything about her was so tightly wound and the screams coming from inside her backpack were so loud. Something. Had. To give.

“Eddie?” she mumbled. The sound of her own blood rushing in her ears was daunting. “There’s something you should know about me.”

“Okay,” was all he said, keeping his hold on one of her hands while she reached for her bag with the other one.

She put the prom tickets on the floor of the van next to Eddie’s thigh and opened the big zipper. He could see the pink envelope that had been tormenting him for a few days between two notebooks, but Dottie pulled out a piece of glossy paper instead. She pushed the bag aside like it had offended her, and offered the retrieved item to him. For a brief second, Eddie didn’t know what he was supposed to be getting from it. The man in the photo didn’t look like anyone he’d ever seen before, and the place where it was taken was a complete mystery to him. Only when he noticed a baby hanging onto the side of a white tub, yellow pacifier in her mouth and wild curls sticking out did it occur to him that this was a piece of Dottie’s past.

“That’s you,” he said, not really asking for confirmation.

“Yeah. And that’s my Uncle Johnny.”

“Wow. You were tiny.”

There was no date on the back of the photo and Eddie hadn’t been around too many babies to accurately guess her age, but he could tell that her Uncle looked very young. He was wearing an old dark red t-shirt with bleach stains and yellow rubber gloves, posing to the camera with a big grin and a sponge in his hand. He was cleaning something behind a white square thing; the full object wasn’t visible in the photo but if he had to guess, it was probably an appliance of some sorts. A washer or a dryer maybe?

“After my Mom died, we couldn’t afford rent on our own,” Dottie began, eyes stuck to the picture in Eddie’s hand. “My grandparents helped us for a few months but it just wasn’t sustainable in the long run. We had a lot of debts, my Dad was still paying his student loans, and there were so many medical bills, it was just… too much for one person to handle,” Eddie didn’t interrupt her, but tugged her a little bit closer so their knees were touching. “So when my Dad began looking into apartments closer to where he worked to save on gas, Johnny told my Dad that we should all move in together. His lease was up and I loved it when he babysat me, so it seemed like a good idea, y’know?”

“How old were you?”

“Around 11 months? I had just found out that if I grabbed onto things, I could stand up all on my own.”

“I can see that,” he lifted the picture. “Look at those chubby thighs.”

“Still got them,” she laughed. “My Grandma says I’ve got chicken legs.”

“Shit, princess, you can't say that and now show me those weird ass toes now,” he grinned.

“I said chicken legs, not chicken feet. Big thighs, small ankles,” she pushed him away jokingly and he pulled her even closer, his thumb rubbing back and forth on top of her hand.

“So you guys moved into this place?” Eddie looked at the photo again.

“Mm-hmm. No one wanted to rent an apartment to two 23-year-old guys with a baby, they thought it was weird. Like, what were they doing with a kid, y’know? They asked for my birth certificate once, it was such bullshit.”

“They accused your Dad of stealing you?”

“Yeah. It was just one time, and the guy was super weird, but still. I think… Well, I know a lot of landlords thought they were gay. And honestly who gives a shit if they were? Gay people need houses too! It’s not like they live in a magical land far far away. And especially in fucking New York City, like, Broadway is right there.”

“Yeah, no,” Eddie scoffed, his heartbeat rising a little bit. “Total bullshit. Fuck Reagan.”

“Fuck Reagan,” she repeated, and they both knew what they were talking about but it wasn’t the right place or time to discuss it. “That’s how Johnny became Uncle Johnny, actually. There was this apartment that was super cheap, great location, near a daycare, and the owners were this old couple, very traditional, so Johnny lied to them so they'd let us rent it. Said my Dad and him were brothers from different fathers, and had this whole speech about how family always helps family during hard times.”

“Go Uncle Johnny.”

“Honestly, he’s awesome. This is from the weekend we moved in,” Dottie pointed at the photo. “There was this old washing machine in the bathroom, the owners said we could throw it away ‘cause it was broken but when we moved it, the entire wall was covered in black mold. Like, you couldn’t even see the wall behind it, it was gross. My Uncle cleaned it up all on his own and repainted the wall so I wouldn’t get sick. That’s why I knew your mold stain was dangerous.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she ground her sneaker into the grass. “I… It hurt when you said that I was treating you like a charity case because it wasn’t easy for us either while I was growing up, you know? We lived in that apartment for four years. There were only two bedrooms, and I shared a bed with my Dad until we moved on our own and my Uncle Rob built me a princess bed for my fifth birthday.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I- I didn’t know-”

“I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel bad. I’m telling you because I want you to know that I understand more than you think I do.”

“I know. I know you do, I’m just stupid,” he smiled up at her. “I do this thing sometimes where I convince myself that no one else in the world knows what it’s like to be me and Wayne has to remind me that I’m not as unique as I like to think I am. Not your fault, darling.”

“God, you sound like Ms. Kelly,” she giggled. “I think I’m… too emotionally constipated for my own good? I should probably work on that.”

“Is that not what we’re doing right now?” he set the photo to the side and finally let her hand go, only to pull her between his open legs for a hug. “Opening up and shit?”

“Yeah,” she let herself sink into his embrace. “Feels nice. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Thank you for sharing your story with me.”

They stayed like that for a few more minutes - just hugging each other, backs a little bit less loaded and hearts a little bit heavier. Before Dottie pulled away to put the photo and the prom tickets into her bag for safekeeping, she stopped for a second to kiss Eddie’s crown. It wasn’t a sexy kiss, or even a romantic one; she grabbed his head with both hands and cartoonishly said “mwah” loudly when she pressed her lips to his hair, but it was still charming enough to make him melt. He glanced at her hands and saw the damned pink envelope peeking out while she tucked away her things. Something was still left to give.

“Can I be nosy for a second?” Eddie said, lifting himself from his seat on the edge of his van to help her get in.

“Sure.”

“What’s that pink thing in your bag?”

“Pink thing?” she sat in front of him at their makeshift table and began unwrapping their forgotten tacos.

“Yeah, you were talking about it with Jeff the other day when we were at Gareth’s,” he said, acting nonchalant.

“Pink thing… Oh, you mean this?” she retrieved the envelope from her bag with one hand while she grabbed a plastic cup with her other hand. “It’s a Mother’s Day card! I always get one for my Mom and write her a little note.”

“That’s… that’s really sweet, princess,” Eddie said, suddenly feeling so very dumb. “You celebrate?”

“Yeah! Just like doing something special, y’know? I feel like she deserves it.”

“I get that. Wayne and I get breakfast at a diner and take flowers to my Grandma. ‘S nice,” he gave his taco a big bite. “D’you still wanna get together on Sunday? We can postpone if you have other plans.”

“Actually,” Dottie looked down at her food. They really were great tacos. “D’you wanna come over and celebrate together? I always bake a cake and do a little bonfire thing… It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” he shook his head. “I’ll come.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, you are kinda bribing me with cake so…,” he said, downplaying the fact that the tips of his ears were red.

“You’re the worst,” she laughed and he beamed at her, a little bit of guac smudged on the corner of his mouth.

Maybe Dottie could trust Eddie with a key. Maybe she could give him his own to keep, so she couldn’t chicken out and ask for it back as soon as the morning sun made her rethink her choices. Maybe, with time, she could be comfortable enough to give him all her keys. But for now, eating the best tacos she’d ever had in her life with the boy who felt like getting into a warm bed after a long day, this first key was enough. It was only fair to give it to him; he’d given her a key to one of his padlocks too, after all.

taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology

#bunny writes #small town fic #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things 4 #wayne munson #chrissy cunningham #joseph quinn #baby's first fic

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tokuvivor · 1 year ago

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"You're important to me, you little shit" for Lena and Webby for platonic sentence starter?

Ooooooooooh, yes!!! I’ve never written anything exclusively revolving around them, so this’ll be fun.

I give you…

Out from the Shadows

Originated from this post.

“So you’re telling me,” questioned Webby, “that you were my shadow the entire time and I didn’t even know?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Lena replied.

It had been about a week since Webby and Violet had brought Lena back from the Shadow Realm, and Webby and Lena had finally found time to discuss all that happened between the Shadow War and that point.

“I…honestly thought Magica had destroyed you,” Webby quietly admitted.

“Me? Destroyed? Nah, I simply just became your shadow,” Lena answered back. “Like I said, to make sure you were alright.”

“Awwww,” Webby cooed. “Still sweet, no matter how much you remind me.”

Lena chuckled softly. “Anyway,” she continued, “I appreciate how much research you were doing in order to try and get me back. But honestly, Pink, going downtown to the library so often got kinda old after so long.”

“Really?” Webby asked. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lena said firmly. “Don’t apologize. You were doing whatever it took to figure out how to get me back.”

Webby nodded.

“By the last time you went downtown for research, you know, the one where you met Vi, I basically had the whole routine memorized,” Lena admitted. “Taking the bus, swiping in with your card, poring over books about shadow magic for hours, rinse and repeat.”

“You…had it memorized?” Webby asked.

“Well, yeah,” Lena responded. “It’s not like I had much else to do, anyway, being stuck in the Shadow Realm.”

Webby looked at her friend curiously. “What else do you remember from when you were my shadow?” she wondered.

“I remember that game night you guys had,” Lena began. “How the heck did Blue not get your charade? It was so clearly McMoneybags!”

“Dewey’s…not always the best with non-verbal cues,” Webby admitted. “Also, did Dr. Gearloose’s shrink ray affect you at all?”

“I was literally shrunk down with the rest of you, and I have no stupid idea how,” Lena replied incredulously. “I’d have guessed that it would only affect the living. You know, those not literally stuck in another dimension.”

“Since you were my shadow, and I got shrunk, scientifically speaking, yeah, it makes sense that you got shrunk down, too,” Webby explained. “But I digress.”

“Ooh! That boat trip you and Green took,” Lena remembered. “That Glom-guy, though, he’s…well, something.”

“He’ll do anything to be better than Uncle Scrooge,” Webby agreed. “That’s why they’re doing this wager over their companies.”

Lena stewed for a moment.

“What?” Webby asked.

“I cannot believe the nerve of him, pulling you overboard!” Lena spat out.

“Did you go overboard, too?” Webby wondered. “Shoot, that kinda came out wrong; I’m just curious about the schematics of that, you having been my shadow and all.”

“You were still close enough to the boat that I stayed on,” Lena explained. “I was still worried, though.”

“Why?” questioned Webby. “Lena, you know me. You know just how physically adept I am, swimming included. You’ve seen me do all those casual flips and tricks. Why would you be worried when you know I can do all that?”

“Because you’re important to me, you little shit!” Lena shouted. Then she clapped a hand over her bill. “Sorry, I don’t know why that came out of me, but the point still stands. You mean a lot to me, and I don’t want you getting hurt, or even worse. Again, that was my whole reason for being your shadow in the first place.”

“First of all,” Webby responded, “you’re lucky that you just said that to me, and not Granny. Second, I appreciate it. I mean, I have enough know-how to be able to get myself out of situations (as long as they aren’t social), but for whenever I can’t do it on my own, well, I guess I had you there the whole time, looking out for me.”

“And I’m still gonna be there for you, no matter what,” Lena added. “Even though I have my body back. Whatever happens, you are not losing me.”

Webby jumped up from her bed, and Lena, anticipating her, rose to her feet as well, as the two girls collided in a hug.

“I missed your hugs,” Webby said, her voice muffled by Lena’s chest.

“I know,” Lena grinned.

#ducktales #webby vanderquack #lena sabrewing #platonic sentence starter prompt #ducktales fanfiction

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those70scomics · 28 days ago

Text

Fictober Day 18: "you always have a plan"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

Eric pulled the bacon-and-cheese quiche from his oven. The heat from the cooking tray passed through his oven mitts but didn't scald him. He began to cut a piece for Donna. She was seated at their kitchen table, and as he brought her dinner to her, she said, "Why?"

"Why what, my dove?"

She shuddered. "I told you never to call me that again, especially with that cloying voice." She dug into her piece of quiche, and he returned to the counter to cut himself one. "And you totally know what," she said between bites. "Otherwise, you wouldn't use your cloying voice."

Eric risked sitting beside her at the table. "I know several whats. Which one are you referring to?"

"Mitch Miller RSVPed to your parents' Halloween party. Your mom told me over the phone."

"Yes!" A thrill shot through his chest, and he ate too big a bite of quiche. He chewed thoroughly, drank water to cool down the cheese, and swallowed carefully.

Donna dropped her fork beside her plate but picked it up a second later. "Who am I kidding? I'm too hungry to be pissed off enough not to eat." She stuck another piece of quiche in her mouth and frogged Eric's shoulder. "How could you invite that jerk?"

"How could I not?" His reasoning was sound, his motive obvious. Donna's could answer her own question if she thought a moment.

"You always have a plan." She glowered at her plate and pressed her lips together. "Damn it, Eric!"

"Hey, you're the one who always has a plan, like getting my mom's silence about your pregnancy by bribing her. Our family and friends have been working on her huge Halloween extravaganza for nearly three weeks, without understanding it's actually for her big announcement about us."

She was halfway through her slice of quiche, and she muttered, "Eighteen days."

"You want precision? Okay, I'll be precise -- " but Eric's stomach growled. He needed to eat more before he explained himself. He did. They both did ... in silence, and Eric cut them each another slice of quiche. "Mitch is a conniving little bully who manipulated you, my friends and family in an attempt to take my place in your lives -- and that's just for starters.

"He attacked you with his mouth, used you, humiliated you. Humiliated me, Fez, and Kelso. Jerk is way too kind a word for him."

"Exactly!" Donna gestured to the air above her. "So why reward him with being part of our happiness?"

Eric would have touched her arm, but she was clearly in no mood to be touched. So he said, "No, this'll be the ultimate revenge and reality check for him. Even after we got married and moved away from Point Place, he sent love letters to your old home. Your dad thought they were well-written but delusional. It's been over ten years. Mitch needs to move on."

Donna covered her still-flat belly with both hands. "He's more likely to hope we're having a girl, willing to wait until she's legally an adult, and try to romance her."

"That's -- " Eric lost his appetite but clutched his fork -- "that's horrifying."

"Happy almost-Halloween, dumbass." She took another bite of quiche and grinned at him. "You've earned yourself the job of keeping Mitch away from me at the party ... and doing whatever you can to cure him of his obsession."

Eric released his fork and pressed his palms against his forehead. Mitch's obsession with Donna wasn't so much about Donna but the idea of her. Of what she represented to him. Only one person could help, and even then it was a long shot.

#that 70s show #that '70s show #fictober24 #eric x donna #eric forman #ficlet #fanfiction #donna pinciotti

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miscellanyofmusings · 1 year ago

Text

Rifftrax Sentence Starters

“______, didn’t I dispatch you to hell earlier?”

“ ______, shut up forever.”

"Alright. That does it. I officially have no idea what we're looking at, why we're here, or even who I am anymore."

“And I pray that I never have to emote any more than I just did. I'm exhausted.”

“And if you're ready, _____, may I offer you a wide-awake nightmare?

“Aw man, I thought we could trust the slimy loser.”

“Being a creepy evil creep is a reward in and of itself.”

“Bland? I mean, honey? Can I make you some bland milk? I mean, warm bland? I mean, warm milk?”

“Careful, they might miss at you.”

“Die! Die in a fire! Live again and then die!”

“Did you guys just see that or has my brain fully melted?”

“Do you think you can do me the teensiest favor and just kill me now?”

“Feels like an NPR audio essay is about to break out.”

“Forgive me, Father. I killed like eight guys today.”

“Fuck you. Pay me."

“Having knowledge about things is not really my specialty.”

“He died as he lived: looking dumb as Hell.”

“He has all the fighting skills of a sock monkey."

“Hell is other people and stuff.”

“I’m condescending for no reason, got it?”

“I've tried nothing—And it's not working!"

“I can’t answer your question because that would acknowledge you exist.”

“I can’t live with myself knowing there’s something out there I haven’t murdered.”

“I don’t want to oversell it, but it will fill you with sadness.”

"I find words difficult because I can't punch them."

“I have a two part question. One, will I ever feel joy again? Two, what did I do to deserve this?”

“I hope you like really tough burnt meat and shitty scotch.”

"I love it when a plan sort of slowly congeals together."

“I thrive on your ignorance.”

“I tripped and fell up five flights of stairs and landed here.”

“Is your torture basement even up to code?”

“It’s not what you said; it’s that you exist.”

“It irritates me too that I can defy logic, time, and physics."

"It is pleasant to be happy because it increases our amount of gladness."

“Let's carpe diem and mumble and mope like we've never mumbled and moped before!”

“Mind if I dial up the gay?”

"Never have I cared so little about so few for so long."

“Nothing calms a kid more than a poster of a deranged clown.”

“My philosophy is to see how many Pop-Tarts I can eat in two minutes.”

“No, don’t, ____, please! Seriously! I will kill all your enemies! Please!”

"No good story ever starts with ‘so there I was, pouring gasoline all over the dead girl’s body.’”

"Oh good. Something else for the Gallery of Things That Should Not Be."

“Oh, thoughtless sociopath, you’re my best friend.”

“Okay, so I’ll take that ominous cryptic answer as a firm yes.”

“Our hero— again, fighting like a sociopathic four year-old.”

"Please don't ruin this moment by surviving!"

“Rush in blindly! A plan can only hinder us!"

"Screaming? Laughter? At this point, what's the difference?"

“So where do you think you’re gonna dump my body?”

"So…You give up here often?"

“Society as we know it would disintegrate if people knew the truth about whatnot.”

“Thank you, most boring sounding person in the world.”

“That’s a very friendly murder threat.”

“That sounded a lot more menacing and less gay in my head.”

“This is my bullshit lecture!”

“Wait a minute, I thought you said ‘pass the time,’ not ‘destroy all hope in the universe.’”

"We are reconciled now through the cleansing power of violence."

“Well, that was neither fun nor interesting, but at least it gave us no new information.”

“Well, time to pretend I know stuff.”

"Well, whoopty-shit."

"Welp... Forgone conclusion ain't gonna forgone conclude itself."

“Who can resist an asshole?”

“Women, right? Always like, ‘This seems fatally stupid!’ Blah, blah, blah.’”

“Yeah, I do feel my own mind drifting through thoughts of Socrates—in that I want to drink hemlock and die.”

"You're a lying liar who lies! You lie!"

“You're not allergic to severe acid burns, are you?”

“You taste like libertarianism and cigars.”

“Your evil is reassuring.”

“Your violent, misogynistic criminal vibe lets me know I can trust you.”

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp starter #meme #memes #murder ///#violence tw #chaotic sentence starters #rp prompts #roleplay prompts

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phoebehalliwell · 1 year ago

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Chris/Bianca spiraling? Always! How do you think Bianca would react in the chnged future if she found out about the old one?

i mean for starters i think it'd be like if you tell her she might blink like. once. then be like. okay..... and everyone would be a little underwhelmed by that reaction except for chris who would be like the only who could tell that her brain is absolutely fried by this information and honestly he'd probably laugh a little.

SO. three options / three timelines

She Finds Out Before Meeting Chris. and has a terrible time with it. maybe it was a backfired spell, maybe the phoenix granted her her memories, either way, she is not having it. because, um. What The Fuck Is That. Hey. Hey Guys. What The Fuck. bc she's bianca, master assassin. bianca, king badass, coldhearted killer, the best of the best, and now she has all these memories of like. feelings. and not just like. ooh not just that shit that she pretends like she doesn't feel like that Deep Deep Shit. like true love. with some guy??? with some Charmed Guy??? Oh No. Oh No No No NO!! No that is not who she is she would not turn her back on her coven on her lineage she would never risk a mission of love one of is not Thee Most blinding feeling there is. love and logic do not exist in the same room together she can't be in love. i mean. she's not. in love. obvi. that's a different her an unrelated her it definitely is a version of her but like. The Wrong Version. the version she needs to learn from to be strong in this reality. so i think she would definitely try to carve those memories out of her head to try to eliminate them because she can already feel them trying to skew with her judgement which she almost does but now she's just haunted by flashes of green eyes and a sick knot in her stomach telling her that she saw the truth, and where she is now is the divine lie

She Finds Out While Trying To Kill Chris. idk some potion or somehow maybe its their blood to blood contact that unlocks their memories in both of them. and i think chris would be the first to be like "bianca?" in a voice she realizes she knows all too well but No. No!! she's here to. She Has To Kill Him. but he's looking at her knowing she just got that full infodump that he did and there's this kind of glint in his eyes can you really kill me now? and she wants to say yes. but the answer is no. so she drives her blade in deep in a spot she knows will wound but not kill and hears chris laugh. it's pained, there's a damn athame lodged in his shoulder, but he laughs. and she knows she's gonna fall for him in this world too.

She Finds Out After Her And Chris Are Already Together. and she kind of wants to vomit. she's angry. she doesn't know why -- she loves chris -- but she's furious. so of course she tries to run away and of course chris finds her and she's so so mad because is this really all she is? is she just some pawn in the divine game? this entire time, she has felt so conflicted -- so (though she'd never admit it) scared, fucking terrified, at betraying all she is and all she had ever known for love -- but she it was her choice. for once she was thinking for her fucking self, she chose to broke the rules, to screw destiny, to take what she wanted, but it turns out that was just her following the script the entire time? everything she gave up was just her playing into destiny's hand? it was never even really her choice to make? and chris is like no, no, fuck destiny, you and i literally rewrote destiny right that's what these memories are. you and me. seeing the world. and saying fuck it. fuck it i'm not taking this lying down i'm not letting fate happen to me i'm taking it head on. and we won. twice, if you ask me. once there. once here. you picking me, that wasn't fate's choice. fate brought us together, sure. but you choosing to fight? that was always your choice.

#chomping biting chomping biting chomping biting #chris x bianca #charmed

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notstilinski · 1 year ago

Text

Beach Read Starters !

Taken from the 2020 novel by Emily Henry, Beach Read! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit!

“How is it? Is there a sex dungeon?”

“So wise. So deep.”

“What will you do if you realize you’ve fallen in love with a ghost?”

“No way. Blow jobs are for major holidays. What you’ve got on your hands is a good old-fashioned foot job pro quo.”

“What’s disturbing about foot jobs as a form of currency?”

“Could you turn off your sad-boy-angsting playlist?”

“Let me guess: Everyone lives happily ever after. Again.”

“Offending you. One syllable. ‘Ah.’ Pretty impressive.”

“My weird ass neighbor was blasting his crying soundtrack all night.”

“Seeing them out in the wild after all this time was horrifying.”

“No, (Name), I’m not talking about sex stuff.”

“The trick to sobering up is… donuts.”

“How do you know your Googling me wouldn’t be even more amusing g to me?”

“How do you know I won’t keep answering your questions with other questions until we both die?”

“You have a hard time… reading happy endings?“

“Are you honestly saying you don’t believe in love?”

“Sure, love happens. But it’s better to be realistic so shit’s not constantly blowing up in your face. And love is way more likely to blow up in your face than to bring eternal happiness. And if it doesn’t hurt you, then you’re the one hurting someone else.”

“I’m not asking you to tell me. I just… I don’t know. It’s weird to see you like this.”

“Oh my God! Are you slightly misquoting A Walk to Remember at me?”

“Life is meaningless, (Name). Gaze into the abyss.”

“Be honest… Did you bring me here to murder me?”

“This one of your murder spots?”

“I refuse to answer that on the grounds that you might take it from me.”

“You just too me on the worlds most depressing date. The least you could do is tell me a single thing about yourself, and why all this stuff matters to you.”

“Why? Part of your dark, mysterious past?”

“But you were in love with him.”

“It’s okay he dumped me in a hot tub.”

“You can just give me three dollars when I take you home, and then if I ever find out I need an organ, we can circle back.”

“I love seeing where you get your admirable qualities from.”

“It didn’t feel like a lie. Maybe a complicated truth, but not a lie.”

“Life is like us like a box of chocolates. You really don’t know what you’re eating and the chocolate map on the lid is fucking always wrong.”

“If you’re a beard, I’m a bird.”

“Do you feel like your mom just dropped us off here before homecoming?”

“It’s shit like this that makes it impossible for me to believe in happy endings. You never get the paper umbrellas you were promised in this world.”

“There’s nothing to loathe about your face.”

“I HATE falling in love. It’s always ruining my bad boy reputation.”

“You know, as private as they are, I have to pull a lot from context out of our conversations. But yes, I’ve gathered the clues that you two have formed a friendship.”

“She left them on their birthday?”

“I think some things are… inevitable.”

“I brought these in case you’re taking me to a Texan church service.”

“This has been an exact recurring nightmare I’m only just realizing was actually a premonition.”

“You honestly have to write me into your will for this.”

“Happy endings don’t happen to everyone. There’s nothing you can do to make someone keep loving you.”

“I want to know you.”

“I’ve never thought you were stupid.”

“I thought—think it’s grace to believe in love. I mean, the lasting kind. To try for that, even knowing it can hurt you.”

“Not believing in something doesn’t stop you from wanting it. If you’re not careful.”

“I remember. A historic moment in our friendship.”

“I told you I wanted you to know me. You can ask me anything you want.”

“I saw that with my parents, you know? This black hole and this bright light he was always just trying to swallow while.”

“It didn’t overwhelm you to watch them sleep.”

“Like being right mattered less than being… okay.”

“Really? Because in winter, I’d just prefer to be dead.”

“(Name) likes to say I was never a kid.”

“I am, though. I am angry and messed up, and every time I try to get closer to you, it’s like all these warning bells go off and I try to act like a normal person, but I can’t.”

“I thought you understood that there’s no such thing as a normal person.”

“Stop it. You’re not going to break me, (Name).”

“I do, you know. Care about you.”

“That’s you’re right, as an American citizen.”

And again, I’m seventeen in that picture. Please stop objectifying child me.”

“It seemed too crass to invite you to my aunts house and then bring up your ass.”

“Are you praying to me, (Name).”

“You’re so fucking beautiful, like the sun.”

“I really didn’t show up to your sex dungeon to seduce you.”

“I’ll make my getaway and leave you behind if I have to.”

“What? Fun? Are you afraid it’s contagious?”

“Come here to ponder your own morality?”

“I want to be your perfect fucking Fabio, (Name), but I can’t. I’m not.”

“It just means I also want you to be happy, and I’m scared I could never be the person who could give you that.”

“Then let me be happy with you, (Name).”

“I can’t wait to visit and watch him be completely smitten with you.”

“I mean, I hope it was partially an elaborate ruse to sleep with me.”

“I never wanted you to see the world like I see it.”

“When you love someone… You want to make the world look different for them. To give all the ugly stuff meaning, and to amplify the good. That’s what you do.”

“If you can learn to dance in the rain then I can stare the ugly things down.”

“I don’t care if you’re a complete person.”

“The good news is your skin looks like a newborn baby’s. What have you been eating here?”

“What’s wrong with these pants? These are my official uniform now, on account of I’ve officially given up.”

“I both love and hate falling in love.”

“Are we being ax-murdered?”

“It’s not the promise that matters. It’s that I told you.“

“Fine. I can’t know if. But I believe it. I see it. Let me prove I’m right. Let me prove I can love you forever.”

“What is we don’t get our happy ending, (Name)?”

#rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #starter sentences #ask meme #ask prompts #inbox memes #inbox prompts #novel sentence starters #this book was exactly the cheesy and fun book i needed pls ...#also if u still see the slashes for italics ... no u don't

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nothorses · 2 years ago

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this is about the kinky kids anon.

yo, uh, when i was a kid an adult was really Encouraging about my kinks and im honest to goodness pretty sure he meant well but every time i look back on it i only feel shame and squick. please dont involve yourself in a kid's kinks if you're an adult. like, don't shame them for having them, but don't do things like ask invasive questions and try to get them to confide in you and so on it's a little muuuuch

Yeah there is never any reason an adult should be asking you questions about your sexual interests if you are underage.

If a doctor asks you if you are sexually active/if you are at risk of STIs/pregnancy, that's normal insofar as they get the answer to the (relevant, necessary) medical question they are asking.

Adults should not take interest in what kinks kids have. They should not offer themselves up to help "explore" them or whatever. If a kid comes to an adult with a question, it's fine to answer that question so long as it's appropriate (purely educational and impersonal, for starters), but beyond that?

A woman ten years older than me got me to roleplay sex scenes with her (through text) when I was a teen, and while she never thought much of it and never pressured me into anything- she should have known better. That shit was not normal, and it was not healthy for me to be "exploring my sexuality" through this adult woman's sexual gratification. Had I not had better education and people around me to combat the things she normalized, I could have gotten hurt because of her actions, even indirectly.

And I have seen adults use kink-shaming and "jokes" and obsession over kinks to normalize this kind of talk with kids; making a mocking "oviposition flag" with a 20-year-old leads to being pressured into DMing adults mean, detailed messages about the "shameful" kinks the 20 yr old told you they have, leads to the 20 yr old adding you to a group chat where you, the lone teenager surrounded by only adults, are asked questions about your sexual fantasies- all the while believing this is a normal progression of normal behaviors.

(I say all this for the sake of any young folks looking at my blog. This space isn't curated for minors, but I also can't check every single follower I get, and I know there are likely some who will see this. (and I say it despite knowing the original asks this is about are, yes, absolutely bait.))

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latoyalestrange · 2 years ago

Text

IT’S NEVER OVER

Joel Miller x F!OC

Summary: Pre-breakout Joel and Tommy frequent a diner after work. Partly for the food, but mostly for a certain waitress that has caught Joel’s eye.

Words: ~2.6k

Warnings: age gap (legal ofc), swearing, typical tlou things

A/N: First official chapter!! I added a bunch of stuff so let me know what you think. I’m going to try to keep chapters at this length. Heart <3

CHAPTER ONE — WOMAN

MAY 1, 2003

Saturday night. Not quite as busy as Friday, but busy enough to make you question if the money you make at this place is worth it. But Jessie thought the same thing last Saturday, and the Saturday before. It was an endless cycle for her and thousands of other college students trying to make ends meet.

For Jessie in particular, this was her second shift of the day. Her first was spent at her mother’s hair salon; answering phones and sweeping up ungodly amounts of hair. It was boring, but, god, she wished she was there instead of at the diner.

At this moment, she was trapped in a conversation with a particularly talkative regular. She could hardly even understand him with the countless other conversations going on around her and the crashing of dishes being thrown in bus tubs. She mostly pretended to be engaged in the conversation.

As overwhelming everything was, Jessie kept her cool. She always did. No matter how rude or insufferable a customer was acting, she kept a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. She felt it was the perfect weapon, truly. In a world where being a young woman meant you were at a disadvantage, being overly kind and never letting anyone see they had bothered her was her defense mechanism.

“Hey, smiles!”

Ech. Jessie hated that nickname, but it snapped her out of the one-sided conversation she was stuck in. She reluctantly turned to meet whoever called her. To her surprise, it was someone she actually enjoyed talking to. Her smile returned as she left the old man to greet them.

Tommy and Joel Miller were two of Jessie’s favorite regulars. At least twice a week, they would come in to visit her. Jessie always thought they just really liked the food, but it was hardly good enough to come in twice a week for. They were here for her. Well, Joel was. Tommy was there for moral support.

“You’re just in time. I thought I’d never get away,” Jessie leaned up against the side of the booth as the two brothers sat down across from one another.

“You looked like you needed saving,” Tommy played along, sharing a knowing look with Joel.

Joel never talked nearly as much as Tommy. The most he would say was a few awkward lines of small talk and the occasional compliment if he worked up enough courage. Jessie took his shyness as just that. She thought his clumsy conversation starters and stuttered compliments were charming. She found him charming. A family man at his core, good with his hands, and not to mention, he was definitely easy on the eyes.

“What did you get up to today? Anything interesting?”

“Nope,” Joel retorts almost immediately, earning a giggle from her. “How was your day though?”

Tommy looks at Joel, a bit surprised that he actually sounded smooth. When the brothers were younger, Joel had no problem talking to women. After all, he taught Tommy how to talk to women. But it had been years since Joel had even wanted to try dating. He kept himself busy with Sarah and work and he liked it that way. The less time he had to himself, the less time he had alone with his thoughts.

“Better now,” She almost mumbles, putting her pen to her notebook. “The usual?” Tommy smiled at Joel as he struggled to find the right words for a moment, caught up on what she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Tommy replies politely for him.

“You got it.” Jessie turned on her heel to return to the kitchen and put in their order. She kept a noticeable sway in her hips as she walked away, knowing that the boys are gentlemanly, but they are still men. And she was right.

“What was that. What did that mean.” Joel demands in a quiet voice, looking sternly at Tommy.

“Dude, she was flirting back! I told you it would work!” The brother exclaims in a hushed tone. A blush instantaneously formed on Joel’s cheeks and he covered it with his hand, playing it off as if he’s smoothing his facial hair down.

“No fuckin’ way, she didn’t mean it like that.” He looked around nervously to make sure she hadnt suddenly appeared and could hear everything they were saying.

“She definitely meant it like that. She looked back to make sure you were looking at it too.” Joel kicked him under the table, making him laugh.

“Shut the fuck up, man,”

“No, I’m serious--”

“No, shut up!” Joel said lowly through gritted teeth. Tommy turned to see Jessie arriving at the end of their table, two coffee’s in hand.

“Don’t make me separate you two.” She joked, setting the mugs down in front of them.

“He started it,” Tommy played along, making her laugh. Joel couldn’t help but smile at the sound.

“Behave. I’ll be back to check on you.” She turned away again to help another customer. Joel watched her leave again, not in a disrespectful way, but almost as if he wanted to savor every glimpse and angle he could of her. Her silhouette was engraved in his brain and he could picture her face perfectly. Her sunkissed skin from the Texas heat and wavy brown hair was constantly on his mind.

“You look like a creep right now.” Joel glared at Tommy, finally breaking his gaze from her.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Tommy,” He lets his head fall into his hands as his elbows are propped up on the table. He rubs his eyes and rubs his temples. “I can’t get her out of my head.”

“I can see why.” Joel opens his eyes again to see Tommy looking somewhere out of his field of vision but he doesn’t have to look to know what he’s looking at.

“Don’t look at her like that. She’s not like the girls you go after.”

“Oh, yeah? What kind of girls do I go after?” Joel glared at his brother again as he sipped his coffee now that it’d cooled a bit.

“She’s different. She’s confident, funny, she’s...everything that I’m not.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. You are Joel fuckin’ Miller,” Tommy poked a strong finger into his brothers shoulder. “You were swimming in it before you had Sarah.”

“That’s not who I am anymore, Tommy--”

“I know, I know. You’re a man now. And she is a woman.” Joel rolled his eyes and relaxed in the booth behind him.

“She’s…something.”

After they had received their food from a runner, the hustle and bustle of the diner finally started to die down. They were almost finished with their plates when they were one of two booths left in the place. Jessie could be seen cleaning the bar, stray strands of hair falling in front of her face as she focused.

“Do you guys need some more coffee?” She asked without looking up. It was quiet in the diner with the absence of the dinner rush. The boys sighed and looked at their half-empty mugs.

“Better not, it’s late--”

“Sure! Thank you.” Tommy cut him off, giving him another sly smile. Jessie instinctively made her way over to the booth, coffee pot now in hand. Her tennis shoes squeaked against the cheap tile as she approached.

“One more cup couldn’t hurt, right?” She chuckled and grinned as she filled their mugs again. Joel was about to respond before he was cut off by who they presumed was her manager calling to her through the window to the kitchen behind the bar.

“Jessie, finish up those tables and you can go. I can’t afford you working over time.” The girl turned to meet her coworker. At least she was honest.

“Oh! Okay!” She called back politely. She returned her focus go the boys again. “Sounds like it’s my lucky day.” Sarcasm practically soaked her words, making Joel laugh heartily. She didn’t think it was that funny, but seeing him enjoy it that much made her giggle along. Tommy looked at the two with an inquisitive brow, slightly judging them.

“What time do you usually get off?” Tommy had to keep his eyes from widening in shock. Joel? Small talk? He hated it with a burning passion. If it wasn’t for the southern hospitality in his veins he wouldn’t engage in it with anyone. But with her, he didn’t mind. He just wanted a few more seconds of her time.

“Around eleven. Midnight if I’m stuck doing two people’s jobs.”

“I know the feeling.” Joel turned to Tommy, gesturing to him over the brim of his mug as he took another generous sip. Jessie chuckled again, letting her hand fall to Joel’s shoulder. Sparks ignited at the site and he tried to surpress the urge to force her hand back when she removed it casually. Tommy rolled his eyes but let them continue chatting. He hadn’t seen this kind of glow on his brothers face in years, and for that, he’d let it slide.

“You guys are carpenters, right?” Tommy nearly spit out his coffee.

“Contractors. We build homes and stores, stuff like that.” If anyone, meaning any other person than Jessie, had asked that question, Joel would’ve laughed in their face. But since it was her, he couldn’t care less. Her voice sounded like music to his ears. She could be insulting him for all he cared, he just wanted her to keep talking.

“Ooh, okay. Sorry, I hope that wasn’t offensive or something. Do Carpenters and Contractors get along?” She mused, this time earning a chuckle from both of the boys.

“Yes, actually, never say that again,” Tommy played along, making the group laugh harder.

“Well, I better get to it. Boss doesn’t like me talking to customers for too long.” She turned slightly, still letting her eyes linger on Joel. “See ya.”

“Sure.” And with that, she was waltzing away from them, that confident sway in her hips returning. Joel watched her leave, the glow on his face being replaced with a look of longing.

“You’re in deep shit, yknow it?”

“Hm?” His gaze didn’t falter.

“You’re in love with her.”

“What?” He was paying attention now, his head whipping towards his brother.

“You haven’t looked at someone that way since—“

“Don’t.” Tommy listened, forcing his mouth shut. He tapped his fingers on the table to release some kind of frustration.

“I’m just saying. She could be good for you.” Tommy said as calmly as he could. The table fell silent for a moment as Joel massaged his forehead with his calloused hands. Joel finally spoke up after a long moment.

“I know. I’m just trying to take it slow. Really slow.” His hands returned to his lap, but he still couldn’t look his brother in the eye.

“Fine. Just don’t make her wait too long.” They were quiet again before Tommy rose to his feet, fixing his belt. Joel followed, grabbing the ticket. He looked down at it in his hands. Her signature “Thank you!” was written in a graceful cursive with a heart scribbled next to it. Pink ink. Joel scoffed. His brother was right. He was in deep, deep, shit.

Out in the parking lot, where Jessie should have already left for the night, she was instead starting her car for the tenth time, just for it to sputter out.

“God fucking—“ She took her frustration out on the wheel, hitting it with her open palms over and over again. “DAMNIT!” She pulled herself out of the car, charging over to the hood and popping it up angrily. She looked down at the contents and realized she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. Her palm found her forehead as she stepped back in defeat. Tears had just begun to prick her eyes when she saw two men leaving the diner.

“Shit, darlin’ you alright?” His familiar southern drawl comforted her like a warm blanket. The brothers instinctively jogged over to her in concern.

“Yeah,” Her voice was trembling and unreliable. “Just car troubles.” She sniffed and wiped her face, hoping to hide the emotions she felt. Tommy sprang into action, turning the key for himself. A horrendous clicking noise erupted from her engine again.

“Oh, you just need a jump. I’ll pull the truck around.” His calm tone instantly made her relax as she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in.

“Easy fix.” Joel reassured her, joining her at the front of her car. She smiled softly at him, grateful. Tommy was on the other side of the parking lot and Joel saw an opportunity. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and flipped it open, taking out a thin card.

“Call me if you have car troubles again.” He teased, returning his wallet to his pocket. She stifled a blush unsuccessfully as she accepted the card.

“Thank you. Really, I appreciate it.” Standing with her like this, he saw her at a different angle. He drank up every bit of her with his eyes. Her gimmicky diner uniform that she despised openly hugged her curves in just the right spots. The way she looked up at him, he could almost sense a glimpse of yearning in her too. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. For a moment, they were stuck, wondering what the other was thinking. The roar of their pickup truck as it pulled in next to them jolted them out of their trance. Tommy hopped out of the driver seat and threw a duffel bag at Joel. He caught it skillfully and set it on the ground next to the wheel of the truck. Tommy popped the hood and stopped the truck. Joel pulled two wires out of the bag, one black and one red.

“Here’s negative,” He lifted one up to show her. “Here’s positive.” He clipped one to part of the battery and the other to a piece of metal next to it.

“Positive to negative and negative to ground,” He looked back at her as he straightened his back, still holding the other ends of the wires in his hands. “Okay? And never let these touch.” She nodded and grinned at him, unable to contain her blush now. He connected the other ends of the wires to mirroring spots under her hood.

“Start it up, Tommy!” His assertiveness sparked butterflies in her stomach. The truck roared back to life, almost making her jump. Joel took his position in her drivers seat, turning her key again. After a few tries, her car was resurrected as well. She gasped as if she’d seen a magic trick. Joel emurged from your car once again, a confident smile on his face.

“Thank you both so much. You saved my life.” The boys laughed.

“Just doing our civil duties, ma’am.” Tommy played along. “Be careful getting home.”

“Yes, please,” Joel added. He was a dad, he couldn’t help it. “And call me if you need me. Anything…” She smiled and nodded.

“Sure. Thanks.” Their gaze lingered like it had before. Neither one wanted to see the other go.

“Have a good night, Jess.”

“You too…” And with that, Joel reluctantly rounded the side of his truck and climbed into the drivers seat. Tommy took his place at the side closest to her.

“Night.” He smiled knowingly at her, making her look down bashfully at her ugly mandatory kitten heels.

“Yeah, yeah.” She turned to her car, hearing him chuckle behind her as she got in.

On her drive home with the windows down and her hair flowing behind her, she thought about a lot. Mainly, how the fuck she was gonna tell her mom about Joel? One thing she knew for sure, though, was she wanted to see him again. He might mean trouble for her, but she was willing to take her chances on him.

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alphashley14 · 2 years ago

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One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

Chapter Fourteen

Soul on Fire

Thanks to Lewis and Velma, they now had resources from the Haunted Museum, the chest of clues from Darrow University, and the books the Mystery Skulls had collected from the Darrow Library to go through along with the Mystery Skulls’ vast collection.

Mystery Inc. was already familiar with the Darrow University texts. As was Mr. E, who was the one who stole them and sent them to the gang in the first place. But it was new to the Mystery Skulls and there was a lot of new information to be taken from their new sources.

They kept at it for another couple of hours, and Daphne only became distracted when, at about 6:30 or so, she was putting a couple of dead-end books back on the top floor of the library and a painting caught her eye.

It wasn’t exactly Daphne’s style, but all the same there was something beautiful about it. It wasn’t moving or otherwise haunted. In fact, it was quite different from most of the paintings in the house. It was Japanese, for starters. And it was old. Very old - so old that the Mystery Skulls had seen fit to display it behind glass. It was of a warrior, her sword raised in combat against an enormous… Wolf? With multiple tails.

There was something familiar about that warrior… and the creature she was fighting.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Vivi asked.

“Who is she?” Daphne asked.

“That,” Vivi said proudly, “Is Mushi. She was a warrior of the Onna-musha - basically the female equivalent of the samurai. She was also my ancestor.”

“Oh, really? Wow! She was beautiful.” Daphne said.

“Yeah, the blue hair is kind of a dead giveaway,” Vivi laughed.

“So… what’s that she’s fighting?” Daphne asked.

It didn’t escape her notice the way Vivi hesitated before she answered. “A kitsune,” she finally said. “A powerful shape-shifting fox spirit. There’s a legend in my family that Mushi fought beside one. I’ve been told… that I have a lot in common with her.”

“Must be where you get your ‘warrior spirit’, huh?” Daphne teased.

“Girl. You have no idea.” Vivi said with complete seriousness.

Daphne never got to ask her what she meant by that, because that’s when everyone’s attention was seized by Velma popping out of a pile of books on the bottom floor.

“Jinkies! Guys, take a look at this!”

Vivi and Daphne turned away from the painting and looked over the railing to look down on the others.

“What is it, Velma?” Fred asked.

“This book is a sort of encyclopedia on magical artifacts. Take a look at this: The Daemon Ritus.” And she turned around to show the gang an illustration of a small, pyramid-like object.

The Mystery Skulls looked at each other and winced.

“It says here that this object is capable of removing protoplasms and displacing them!” Velma exclaimed excitedly.

“Okay Velma. Like, pretend that no one here understands what that means.” Shaggy said pointedly.

“Velma-” Vivi started, but Velma interrupted.

“It can take a soul out of one body and put it into another one!”

“Oh. Like, oh!” Shaggy cried.

“Uh, guys…” Lewis said.

“This could switch our bodies back!” Mr. E exclaimed, getting excited.

“We destroyed it!” Vivi blurted out.

Mystery Inc. whirled around to look up at her.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, guys.” Mystery said.

“But why?” Shaggy exclaimed, banging his head against a table with frustration.

“Keep reading. Just another paragraph down.”

Velma’s eyes scanned the page, and she visibly paled. “Oh. Jinkies…” She said quietly.

“Yeah. If we hadn’t destroyed it, an ancient race of demons would have used it to take over the world,” Vivi said.

“Ah, yes. The Spooky Island mystery.” Mystery said fondly.

“That one probably would’ve made us famous, but the federal government covered it up in the end.” Lewis pouted. “Something about not wanting to cause a panic.”

“I thought you guys said body swapping was a new one for you,” Fred said.

“Well we never actually saw the Daemon Ritus transfer a soul into a different vessel,” Vivi explained. “It was meant to steal the energy of many souls and transfer their power into one entity - which we stopped them from doing before they completed that step.”

“So as helpful as it would be to have it right now, between dealing with this and the world being already over, I’ll take this any day,” Mystery said.

“No kidding,” Scooby gulped.

“You know what? I think we’re at a good stopping point for now,” Lewis said. “I’m going to get dinner started.”

“I know I could use a break,” Fred agreed.

“Like, yeah!” Shaggy said. “If you’re half as good at making enchiladas as flipping pancakes, then this’ll be great!”

“Oh boy!” Scooby licked his lips.

As they left the library behind, Daphne couldn’t help but glance back at the painting of Mushi and the kitsune. There was something important about it, she was sure of it!

But what?

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Dinner with the Mystery Skulls was a surprisingly enjoyable affair.

Mr. E, Shaggy, and Scooby helped in the kitchen with Vivi and Lewis while Fred, Daphne, Velma, and Mystery sat at the table and watched them work under Lewis’ direction.

Making dinner went pretty smoothly - for the most part. Scooby was eventually kicked out of the cooking process when Lewis noticed him sneaking before-dinner bites. Shaggy, being in Arthur’s body without his usual appetite, had much better self-control.

Lewis turned on one of his playlists as they worked, and dinner was nearly done when a Mystery Skulls’ song came on.

The enchiladas were assembled, the chili sauce and cheese was lathered generously on top, all four pans were in the oven, and the side dishes were all coming along nicely. Yes indeed, a blend of truly wonderful smells was filling the kitchen when Vivi’s voice crescendoed through the speakers.

“Soul on- soul on- soul on fire tonight.

Soul on- soul on- soul on fire tonight!...”

Vivi and Lewis’ faces absolutely lit up when they realized what song was on and without even having to exchange a word about it, they exchanged flirtatious smirks and began to bob their heads

“I was born poor, I’ll probably die poor,” Lewis sang along.

“Was born with nothing and I’ll die with less.

Hearing you singin’s got me singin’ too,

It keeps me dreaming, all I dream is you, Oh.”

Beside Velma, Daphne smiled dreamily and leaned next to Fred. Oh, brother.

As the beat of the synth ascended, Lewis and Vivi sashayed across the kitchen until they were together. The Dead Beats, having come to the sound of music, delightedly began to swirl around the room, bouncing and trilling to the beat. And as the lyrics returned, the Master and Lady of the house began to dance.

Vivi came in for the background vocals.

“Tell~ me!”

Then Lewis with the lyrics.

“You got my soul on fire tonight!”

“Tell~ me!”

“You’ve got my love, stare into the fire.”

“Tell~ me!”

“You’ve got my soul on fire tonight!”

“Tell~ me!”

“You’ve got my love stare- love stare!”

As the chorus repeated and Lewis and Vivi continued to rotate around the room, laughing and singing together, Velma’s eyes wandered to the others. Mystery looked pleased - clearly he approved of the relationship. Shaggy and Scooby, the goofballs (who clearly knew nothing about romantic love but that was a whole other thing) were tapping their toes. Daphne was sending Fred signals, and as usual Fred wasn’t receiving them.

And then there was Mr. E.

His posture was relaxed at his station, where he was keeping an eye on the black beans and rice. He was smiling, tapping his fingers and lightly nodding his head to and fro with the music. But there remained that deep sadness and longing in his eyes that Velma had caught on his face several times at random moments throughout the day, and she knew he must be thinking of Angel.

With everything else going on, Velma had to remind herself that the wound was fresh for him and he was trying to stay strong and productive through his grief. But all the same… was it terrible that it kind of pissed her off?

The pattern from the chorus broke with Vivi singing,

“Soul on- soul on- soul on fire tonight.

Soul on- soul on- soul on fire tonight!...”

Then Lewis came in with the next verse.

“Feelin�� my dreams are never comin’ true.

Was on my nightmare til’ it came to you.

Making me feel just like I wanted to,

You keep me dreaming, all I dream is you. Oh!”

Then as the instrumentals crested once more, Lewis picked Vivi up effortlessly under her legs and lifted her into the air against his chest. Vivi shrieked with laughter, her arms thrown around his neck.

Through all her cynicism, it was enough to make even Velma feel all mushy inside just looking at how happy they were together. They were so caught up in each other that they actually missed the first few lines of their return vocals. But their voices on the radio did just fine at supplementing the chorus over the sound of the lovers’ giggling.

“Tell~ me!”

“You’ve got my soul on fire tonight!”

“Tell~ me!”

“You’ve got my love, stare into the fire.”

“Tell~ me!”

“You’ve got my soul on fire tonight!”

“Tell~ me!”

“You’ve got my love stare- love stare!”

As the chorus repeated and the rest of the song trailed off into repeating vocals that blended with the instrumentals, Vivi grabbed Lewis by the ascot and pulled him into a kiss.

The Dead Beats broke out into happy noises at the sight. Mystery, looking extremely pleased, looked away respectfully. Mr. E did the same, albeit while red in the face at the open display of affection. (Mr. E blushing! Definitely something that never occurred to Velma.) Daphne gushed, Freddy was smiling, and Shaggy and Scooby looked at each other and fake gagged. Of course.

“Alright, alright. Settle down everyone,” Vivi giggled, her cheeks pink as her boyfriend set her down.

“Sorry about that - when it comes to that song it’s easy for us to get carried away,” Lewis said with a shit-eating grin on his face. But even as he apologized Vivi was leaning against him and reaching for his hand to interlock their fingers.

“I think it was just wonderful! Oh, it’s so romantic!” Daphne said delightedly.

Right then, one of the timers went off for their food.

“Eh, Lewis? What do you want me to do with this?” Mr. E asked.

“Just stir it and turn the heat down as low as it’ll go to keep it warm until the rest is done,” Lewis said, leaving Vivi’s side to go help.

Before long, dinner was served.

Given that they’d eat just about anything, most people often disagreed with Shaggy and Scooby on the concept of what tasted good (this was the same pair who loved clam-flavored ice cream and had once gorged themselves on years-old gator burgers), but in this case Shaggy was right. Lewis was a really good cook. While the Peppers' restaurant, Pepper Paradiso, specialized in spicy food, Lewis had adjusted his recipes to take his guests’ tastes into consideration. He’d made four batches of enchiladas: one beef, one chicken, and one of each of the original recipe, with sauce spicy enough to melt your tongue off. At least to the standards of literally everyone except Lewis, Vivi, Scooby, and Mr. E.

How that came about was actually quite funny. Shaggy, still thinking as if he was still in his own body, tried to shove an entire spicy beef enchilada into his mouth at once and literally belched fire. He was so shocked by Arthur’s taste buds that he nearly threw up, and Scooby had to rush in to save the day by yanking his tongue out of his mouth and dousing it with ketchup to douse the heat. Then Lewis brought him an entire half-gallon jug of milk.

It wasn’t exactly funny at the moment, but once it was established that Shaggy wasn’t literally dying, everyone had a good laugh over it.

“L-like, I’d forgotten what spicy food’s like to someone who like, doesn’t have the mouth for it,” Shaggy wheezed.

“‘Someone who doesn’t have the mouth for it,’” Velma echoed thoughtfully, “Hey Mr. E, how well do you handle spicy food? When you’re in your own body, I mean.”

Mr. E held up a finger ‘just a moment’, while he chewed the bite of rice and black beans in his mouth. “Not very well,” he laughed after he swallowed. “I remember I went on a trip to New Orleans one summer with Cassidy and her family, and they put Cajun in everything there. The Williamses teased me the whole time - all in good fun, of course.” And again, he was smiling, but Velma could tell that through his pain the memory of her was bittersweet.

If you loved her so much, then why weren’t you her ally- our ally? Why couldn’t you have treated her the way she deserved when she was still alive? Velma thought. But she kept those thoughts to herself. After all, Velma knew the power of the curse, so she knew it wasn’t entirely his fault. She also knew that all on his own, he’d broken free of it and was trying to do better.

But still, those bitter feelings persisted.

“Alright then Mr. E, inquiring young minds want to know,” Velma said, putting a spicy chicken enchilada on a plate and sliding it over to him. “Same person, different body. How does he fare?”

Mr. E gulped, looking around at everyone’s expectant faces as if to ask for help. “Do I have to?”

“I mean, no one’s gonna make you,” Scooby said.

“But it is for science,” Velma said mischievously.

“Who knows? Maybe it’ll provide a clue,” Daphne said, going along with it.

“This is revenge, isn’t it?” Mr. E asked dryly.

“Maybe,” all five members of Mystery Inc. said at once.

“Fine,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

After a moment of trepidation, he took a bite.

The first good sign was that he didn’t immediately spit it out. Then he hummed, pleasantly surprised as he chewed, and swallowed. “Huh. So this is the appeal with spicy food.”

“Well? What’s it like?” Daphne asked.

“Weird,” he replied. “I know for a fact that I’d be having about the same reaction Shaggy did if I was in my own body, but Shaggy’s taste buds are used to it so it’s just… good. Really good, actually. All the flavor with none of the pain. Thanks again for the meal, Lewis.” He said, taking another bite.

“I’m glad you like it,” Lewis said, looking very proud of himself. “I’ve been in the kitchen with the Peppers for as long as I can remember.”

“‘With the Peppers?’ Don’t you mean your parents?” Fred asked.

“Oh, I’m adopted,” Lewis said. “I don’t remember much of my birth parents. They died in an incident with a monster when I was… three or four, I think? Maybe five? But the Peppers have never treated me any differently from their own kids. I consider them my parents, and their bio kids are my sisters. They’re really good people.”

“That’s terrible!” Daphne exclaimed.

“It is,” Lewis shrugged. “But it doesn’t bother me much anymore. Maybe it’s not fair to them, but I remember so little of my bio parents that I don’t think of them much, and the Peppers are wonderful. They taught me everything I know about food.”

“I think I can understand that,” Fred said. “I’m… I guess ‘adopted’ too. My Mayor-Dad may have kinda, sorta, kidnapped me. And he wasn’t the best parent… a lot of times. But at the end of the day, he still raised me, and I know he loved me. Especially after everything that happened with my ‘real’ Mom and Dad, I consider him more my father than them.”

“I’m sorry you weren’t as lucky as I was in the family category,” Lewis said.

“You said your parents were killed by a monster?” Mr. E asked thoughtfully. “There are monsters in… where were you guys from again? I know it’s in Texas. It was… Tempo, right?”

“Oh, no. I mean yeah sure, there are mysteries abound to be found in Tempo, but my parents didn’t die there. We were from Crystal Cove originally, remember? Otherwise we wouldn’t be part of your curse. No - they died here. In Crystal Cove. I moved to Tempo with the Peppers.”

“Waitwaitwait- when did this happen? This would have been during my group’s time, wouldn’t it? I think I would have remembered a monster actually killing people during my Mystery solving days!”

“That’s because it didn’t happen during your mystery solving days,” Mystery said sadly. His ears were down, and his brows were furrowed. “It happened about two months after you left.”

“What?”

“You think the curse stopped after it got rid of you? It took almost a year for monsters to stop appearing after the Original Mystery Incorporated disappeared. I’m sure you all remember how chaotic Crystal Cove was during Crybaby Clown’s reign without Mystery Inc. to maintain the balance. Well let me tell you: 20 years ago, it was a lot worse. With multiple monsters on the loose getting increasingly violent without anyone able to stop them. Come to think of it, they didn’t stop appearing until after the not-yet-formed Mystery Skulls left Crystal Cove,” Mystery said thoughtfully.

“How do you know all that?” Scooby asked.

A look flashed across Mystery’s face like he’d been caught, but it disappeared just as quickly. “Vivi’s Dad and Grandma Yukino told me about it,” he dismissed the topic and buried his face in his dinner.

Vivi and Lewis also went straight to eating, avoiding their guests’ eyes.

Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, Scooby, and Mr. E all looked at each other. They knew that look well enough.

The Mystery Skulls had yet another thing they were holding off on telling them.

But what?

Whatever it was, it was apparent that the Mystery Skulls didn’t think it was the right time to share it, if at all.

The table fell into silence for a few minutes, broken only by the clink of dinnerware.

How to get them talking again? Velma wondered.

She looked around the table and once again her eyes fell on Mr. E, working his way through a plate piled as high as Scooby and Vivi’s. If talking about the past had been what got the Mystery Skulls to slip up, then maybe Velma could hit two birds with one stone. There was something she’d been meaning to ask…

“Hey Mr. E,” Velma said casually.

“Hm?” He acknowledged through a mouthful of beef.

“You never finished your story earlier.”

The entire table abruptly went quiet. Mr. E, yet again looking very put-on-the-spot, swallowed the food in his mouth. “Oh. You mean from back at the hilltop? When you asked why I went back to Pericles?”

Velma nodded. “We don’t have to talk about it now, but given that we’re all together and no one was saying anything else, I figured now’s as good a time as any.”

“No, no. You’re right. You all deserve the rest of my explanation. It’s fine that you’re still angry with me. In fact, it’s to be expected,” he said, sulking a little.

“I’m not angry,” Velma said, to her own surprise as much as his. “At least not as angry as I was this morning, after everything that’s happened today. I just… want to understand.”

He was so surprised it took him a second to respond. “Okay then… Let’s see… where did we leave off? Right. When I reached out to Velma. I’m good to tell you the rest of it, now. If that’s alright with everyone else.”

There were nods all around.

“Okay. So, when I was telling you all this story earlier I had actually gotten a little ahead of myself. I’d lost your trust - rightfully so. Sorry about the Obliteratrix, by the way. Alice took it further than I meant for her to, but it really was all special effects. I never would have actually hurt any of you.”

“At this point I'm too exhausted to even be mad at you. For now just consider it water under the bridge,” Velma said dryly.

“Thanks for not actually blowing up the Mystery Machine,” Fred said anxiously.

“Really? I mean- okay then. Anyway - Ed was dead, and Cassidy and I were hardly speaking anymore, much less working together. So after I drove Velma and Hot Dog Water against me, I couldn’t get anyone else to work with me. No one else wanted to, because I’d given in to my own greed and other bullshit, and it made me treat the people around me in ways they didn’t deserve. Everyone, that is… except one.” He sighed and looked away in shame, rubbing the back of his neck.

“At the time I came to see you Velma, if I recall correctly you all were in the middle of the Graveyard Ghoul mystery. You were out by yourself looking for clues while the rest of the gang was otherwise occupied.”

“Stuffing their faces with German chocolate,” Velma confirmed, giving the gang the side-eye. All of them shrugged guiltily.

“Well, here’s the part you don’t know,” Mr. E sighed. “A few days prior, Professor Pericles had called a meeting of the Original Mystery Incorporated - the first time all five of us had been together in twenty years. None of us would have gone if we’d known he was the one who called the meeting, but he tricked us. Cassidy, Brad, and Judy all thought that I’d arranged the meeting, and I was under the impression that Cassidy had called it. Then he showed up,” Mr. E growled, his scowl making him look more like himself than Velma had seen him all day.

“He offered a partnership - told us that you kids had another disk piece and that our best chance of getting the better of you was to work together again. Now, to be clear, I am not completely stupid. Neither are Brad and Judy, and Cassidy certainly wasn’t. That, we all actually agreed on at the time. We looked at him individually, and told him to go fuck himself. Not in those words exactly, but to the same effect.”

Several people snorted at that.

“But of course that was all part of his plan. He’s a patient bird. He had bid his time, watched from the shadows, and he knew exactly when to strike. He’d already murdered Ed, nudged Angel and I apart, egged me on and nudged my isolation along, then he started dropping in.

“After you refused my offer and left me Velma, you didn’t see it. But right after you left, he was there. Perched on a tree branch right above us, having watched the whole thing. He knew how desperate I was to have someone by my side. He knew exactly where I’d be and what I was going to do before I did it, and he was there lying in wait when the sting of rejection was fresh and I was ripe for the picking. ‘The others won’t work with me, so that leaves only you, Ricky. My sweet Ricky.'” He said mockingly.

“God,” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I knew he was being manipulative, and I still gave him exactly what he wanted. He knew me, and he knew exactly what to say. He knew what I wanted most was impossible, but he dangled such a convincing illusion of it in front of my nose that I fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. He played me so well that eventually, I thought our partnership was my idea,” he scoffed, shaking his head at his past self, “what a joke. So that’s it, Velma. That’s how I wound up back under Pericles’ thumb. Because I was stupid and pathetic.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

All eyes snapped over to Mystery. The little dog looked absolutely livid. But once he saw everyone looking at him he got a grip on himself, his lips lowering over his teeth and his fur lying flat on his back. He looked over at Mr. E and smiled sadly.

The table was quiet for a few moments.

“Okay,” Velma finally said.

“Okay?” Mr. E echoed.

“There was a lot there. But I think I understand better now. Thank you for telling us,” Velma said, going back to her food. She… really wasn’t sure what to say or do with that information. Not yet anyway. But for now she wanted Mr. E to know that she was okay with him being there. Even with all their history and her mixed feelings and everything else… She trusted people. Maybe that was a weakness of hers, but she wanted to give him another chance. He’d earned it.

“Good job, Ricky.” Mystery said, following suit.

Everyone else eventually went back to their dinner as well. Mr. E was the last to pick up his fork again, looking around incredulously at the others as if he couldn’t believe how fine they were with his confession.

“Oh. And, Mr. E?” Velma said.

He looked at her like he was expecting the other shoe to drop.

But all Velma said was, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Then she went right back to her dinner. And after another moment of processing, Mr. E did the same.

“... Thanks, Velma.”

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Ricky was tense for the rest of the meal. At any moment, he anticipated… something. Some sort of reprimand or consequence for what he’d told them. Mocking, teasing, jabs, the silent treatment, anything.

But nothing of the sort ever happened. The meal just continued oddly… normal. The Gluten Demon was brought up and that led to Mystery Incorporated recounting the Headless Horror mystery and telling the Mystery Skulls all about how they’d met Dr. Rick Spartan, Cachinga, and Marian for the first time. Vivi took her scarf off and she and Velma compared turtlenecks. Fred, Daphne, and Lewis talked about ascots and men’s fashion. Shaggy and Scooby were… Shaggy and Scooby. And Ricky was… there. They didn’t push him to talk or join in, but they didn’t ignore him either. Nor did they seem at all displeased that he was with them.

It was strange, yet also sort of perfect.

I don’t deserve this, he thought to himself. But is it selfish of me to enjoy it while I have it anyway?

Between the nine of them, they absolutely demolished dinner. There would be zero leftovers to be found the next day, that was for sure. They all pitched in to get the dishes where they needed to be and straightened up the table. Which went without incident until Velma, her arms full of dirty plates, asked Mr. E to open a door for her. Or rather, she tried to.

“Hey Mystery, could you please get the door for me?”

Of course he didn’t acknowledge her, thinking she was talking to the dog. And Mystery was on the other side of the room and thought she was talking to the human.

“Hey Mystery-” Then Velma realized what she’d said. “Oh my God, now I’m doing it!” She exclaimed. “Mister. E. Could you please open this door for me?” Velma asked again, pronouncing both words this time.

“Oh, you were talking to me. Sorry Velma, I got it,” He said, rushing to get the door for her.

“I’m the one who got your name wrong. Why are you apologizing?” She asked, stepping into the kitchen.

A few minutes later everyone was in the kitchen helping put everything away and get all the dishes in the sink when Lewis popped his head in from the dining room. “Hey, Mr. E?”

“Yeah?” Ricky and Mystery both said at once.

“Oh. Hehe. Sorry. I don’t know which one I said now. Uh- Mister. E, as in the homo sapien, you left your jacket on the back of your chair.”

“Oh! Thanks Lewis," Ricky said, accepting his jacket from Lewis and putting it on.

“You know what? This isn’t working.” Vivi said, putting her arms up in the air.

Then she asked a question that absolutely nothing that had happened thus far today could have prepared him for.

“Hey, E? Would you mind if we started calling you Ricky?”

You could almost hear the record scratch as the entire room suddenly went dead quiet, staring at them.

“I mean- sorry if that was overstepping,” Vivi said. “It’s just that between you and Mystery, your names are so similar that they keep getting mixed up. And even when we get them right, whenever we say either of your names, both of you look up. Mystery doesn’t exactly have another name to fall back on, and you do.”

“I mean I do have another name but humans can’t exactly say it,” Mystery added.

“Ricky does suit him,” Lewis said.

“Or if that makes you uncomfortable, could we call you Mr. Owens?”

“No,” Ricky said a little too harshly. But he immediately caught himself. “Sorry- no. It’s just- Mr. Owens was my father. I never really got to be Mr. Owens, and the few times I’ve ever been called that it just feels wrong. So I suppose… Ricky’s fine. You can call me either/or. As long as you kids are okay with calling me that,” he said, turning to the new Mystery Inc.

“I mean- it would be the practical thing to do,” Fred said. “As long as you’re okay with us calling you that, E- or um… Ricky?”

Velma was staring at him with her eyes narrowed, arms crossed, hand held up to her chin deep in thought. She crossed the room to stand in front of him and sort of leaned in to look at him closely.

“Uh… what?” Ricky gulped, looking around the room for help.

After a tense moment of scrutinization, she finally broke the awkward silence.

“Ricky,” She said, testing it out. Then she turned around and stepped out of his space. “Yeah, I think I could get used to it.”

Ricky let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in.

“Me too! Uh, I think.” Scooby said.

“Like, yeah. It’s kinda weird but it’s like Velma said. Like, I could get used to it.” Shaggy shrugged.

“If you’d asked this morning I’d’ve been like ‘no way’. But now… Ricky… Yeah this’ll work,” Daphne said.

And that was how Ricky graduated to a first-name basis.

What a fucking day.

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Once the dishes were all in the sink, the Mystery Skulls told their guests to go wait for them in one of the central dens.

“We’re not going back to the library?” Scooby asked.

“The library isn’t exactly ideal for the conversation we promised you after dinner,” Vivi laughed.

Six sets of eyes widened. Clearly, Lew-lew’s mad kitchen skills had made them all temporarily forget what came after dinner.

“You mean-” Daphne started to say, but Lewis cut her off.

“Yeah. We’re going to spill the beans on what we’ve been keeping from you,” Lewis said. He said it with a smile, but Vivi knew him well enough to see that he was nervous.

Lewis and Vivi refused all offers of help with the dishes so that as their guests’ footsteps faded off with Mystery at the lead, Vivi and Lewis had a moment alone to talk.

“Alright. How do you want to go about this?” Lewis asked, scrubbing the largest pans first.

“I have an idea as to what would be the best approach."

They talked for a few minutes until they had a plan. Then Vivi asked: “Do you think we should tell them about… ‘our informant’ after that?”

“No,” Lewis said immediately. “It’s too much. Especially for Ricky. They’re bound to be freaking out enough about the other stuff as it is. Give them a night to process and rest. Then we’ll tell them in the morning before she gets here. It’ll be a big enough shock as it is without their blood pressure already being up because of us.”

“Ricky’s in a lot of pain because he thinks she’s dead. And he blames himself for it. He’s… a lot like Arthur. The longer we wait to tell him, the angrier he’ll be.”

“I know. But this isn’t about us. And trust me: today is not a good time to tell him. According to the Dead Beats… There was an incident with one of the mirrors in his room. That’s why it took him so long to come down earlier. Whatever he saw really upset him - don’t worry, the Dead Beats went ahead and moved the mirror to the basement. Anyway, Ricky’s pretending to be fine, but he’s not. We tell him that she’s alive and on her way here, he’ll have an anxiety attack or worse. And he won’t sleep a wink tonight. We don’t want that. He seriously needs to relax.”

“You’re right,” Vivi agreed with a sigh. “Dammit, I don’t like it. But you’re right.”

“Then it’s decided.” Lewis said, drying his hands as Vivi shut the dishwasher. “Minus Arthur’s part in our story, we tell them the truth about us tonight. And in the morning… we tell them the truth about who sent us back to Crystal Cove.”

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“My personal favorite theory is coven of witches,” Ricky shrugged.

“I’m still holding out hope for ‘secret trapping club.’” Fred said giddily.

“Seriously?” Velma deadpanned.

“No, but it’s funny to speculate,” Ricky chuckled.

Mystery had led them into a large yet cozy room with a high ceiling and tall, gothic rafters. There was plenty of seating space for all of them and a large roaring fireplace, above which hung a large not-moving print of the Mystery Skulls all together. Like the rest of the house, there was lots of pink, purple, and black in the decorations. There was a record player with a display case of Lewis’ record collection, a large TV with a gaming setup, two cabinets containing Lewis’ collection of romance movies and adventure games, and the walls were decorated with moving paintings of Peruvian landscapes and fluffy grazing alpacas.

“Neither of you aren’t even close,” Mystery said.

Just then, Lewis and Vivi entered the room. Lewis was rolling a large chalkboard, and Vivi was carrying a folder.

“Oh my. They have a chalkboard. Truly, this must be very serious business,” Ricky joked as Lewis positioned the chalkboard in front of the fireplace where they could all see it.

“Hardy har-har. Do you want us to tell you or not?” Vivi said flatly.

“Cuz I mean, we could make you wait another day if you’d prefer,” Lewis shrugged.

“No!” All of Mystery Incorporated exclaimed over-dramatically.

“Do not listen to him! He- he doesn’t speak for all of us!” Fred said in mock-seriousness.

“Yes! Yes. Please, we beg you, do not let Ricky’s smart ass mouth prolong the suspense any longer!” Velma said, shaking her head and trying not to laugh.

Ricky chuckled, brushing aside the feeling he got when the kids said his name.

“Okay then. Settle down and buckle your seatbelts,” Vivi said.

Lewis drew a five-row, three-column table on the board. When he was done, it looked like this:

“To start off our explanation, Vivi and I talked and decided to start off with what you know before making our way over to what you don’t know,” Lewis said, turning around.

“As you all know,” Vivi said, pointing to the board with a ruler, “the members within each mystery solving group connected to the curse of Crystal Cove, who are collectively known as the Children of Nibiru, traditionally fall into a distinct pattern of four kids and an animal descendant of the Annunaki, and further fall into roughly distinguishable roles based on general appearances, skills, and personality traits. Fred and Brad, Daphne and Judy, Velma and Cassidy, Shaggy and Ricky, and Scooby and Professor Pericles respectively all fall into the same roles. It’s this connection that allowed the being possessing Nova to swap Ricky, Shaggy, and Arthur - because they’re all in the same role.”

Lewis circled Shaggy, Ricky, and Arthur’s column on the table.

“Yes, we all knew this. What’s your point?” Velma asked.

“The point,” Mystery said, “is that as the Annunaki explained to Ricky and Shaggy, Arthur is the only member of our group who fits enough into that model that the swap was possible. The rest of us are in one way or another deviant from the pattern, and the Mystery Skulls collectively really only hang onto it by a thread.”

“And that’s what we’re going to tell you tonight,” Vivi said.

“Rohkay,” Scooby said. The others nodded to indicate that they were following along.

“First, the most obvious thing that differentiates the Mystery Skulls from every single other group that’s come before us,” Vivi said nervously, reaching over and grabbing Lewis’ hand.

Lewis took a deep breath. “As you all know through your own research,” Lewis sighed, “Three years ago our group investigated a supposedly haunted cave system and there was an accident that resulted in Arthur losing his arm and one fatality.”

“Up until this point, we’ve allowed you all to believe that the person who died was the fifth member of our group,” Vivi said.

“But that isn’t true,” Mystery confessed.

“What?” All six of them cried out at once.

“The Mystery Skulls have only four members. We’ve always had only four members. There isn’t, hasn’t, and likely never will be a fifth member of the Mystery Skulls,” Vivi explained.

“But like- that can’t be right!” Shaggy exclaimed. “Like, that doesn’t make any sense!”

“He’s right - it doesn’t. I uncovered from my research about you, independent of theirs, that one of your members died. Unless you somehow fabricated it? But I don’t see why you would do that,” Ricky said.

“That’s just it,” Mystery sighed. “I wish I could say otherwise, but we aren’t making it up, and we didn’t lie. Three years ago, in a cave system near Tempo, one of us was murdered. After the fact, after- everything happened, there was too much police involvement and press to cover up the fact that one of us died. But we could cover up who.”

“Wait wait wait- this still doesn’t make any sense! If one of you really did die, and you only have four members, then how are you all still… here?” Daphne asked, shrinking next to Fred.

“Because he didn’t leave,” Vivi said, with such an indescribable sadness that they all knew it to be nothing but the truth.

“The member of the Mystery Skulls who was killed three years ago…”

Lewis pointed at the chalkboard and to the shock of their guests, the piece of chalk in his other hand flew into the air and, by itself, crossed out his name in one furious swipe.

“... was me.”

And that’s when the whites of Lewis’ eyes turned black, and he was engulfed from head to toe in a pink inferno. No sooner had the six of them shot to their feet, gasping in horror, the flames cleared.

And floating before them, terrifying, spectral, and real, was the ghost of Lewis Pepper.

Scooby yelped with fear and jumped into Shaggy’s arms. Velma and Daphne shrank behind Fred, and without even thinking about it, Ricky dashed to stand between the monster and the only five things on Earth that he had left to care about.

Oh, it occurred to him as he trembled, Soul on Fire, indeed.

SO. This is what was originally planned for Chapter 13. As you can see, it would have been kind of perfect for the spooky ghost reveal to line up with unlucky/magical number 13, but then it took over 3,000 words to get Ricky downstairs. So here we are at Chapter 14. Lol For real tho, I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS REVEAL FOR 14 CHAPTERS! I did NOT expect it to take this long for us to get to this point, but here we are. I've literally been saving the song 'Soul on Fire' all this time just so that it would be in the chapter to foreshadow this reveal! I mean- okay, it wasn't exactly a reveal to us, but Mystery Incorporated is shooketh. 👻 Enjoy that cliffhanger, by the way. Because I have no idea when the next chapter (and the rest of the big reveal) will be written and posted. 😜 SO - The past couple of chapters of this fic have definitely put the Mystery Skulls on the back burner with the main focus being on the SDMI characters, so I was happy to bring them back into the spotlight this chapter. And for those of you who caught the reference at the beginning: come on. This is a Scooby Doo BODY-SWAP FIC. I had to make at least one reference to the live-action 2002 film. And given that there's so little Mystery Skulls canon to work with, why not give references like that to them? Kudos to anyone who got that reference without needing to read the author's notes. You get a gold star! ⭐ And an extra-shiny gold star if you caught the other, less obvious reference to the same film during the dinner scene. 🌟 Ricky's experience with Cajun food in New Orleans is based on my own experiences, by the way. Loved New Orleans - I was there the week before Mardi Gras last year. But no matter where you turn, the spicy WILL find you. 😆 I swear to God, my singular week in New Orleans exposed me to so much spicy food that it literally changed the structure of my mouth or something. 😝 Or maybe it was just forced exposure therapy. I was never able to handle even a teeny bit of spice before. It's a sensory thing with me. Like, I could not even stand to eat pepperoni pizza because that little bit of spice was just too much for me. But now? I can actually eat some spicy food. I like pepperoni! And I 100% believe that I have the Hell week my tastebuds endured in NOLA to thank for it. Back to the fic from my "obviously so-interesting life," the gang is calling Mr. E "Ricky" now! Stemming from practicality or no, progress is progress! 😁 That's all I'll say about this chapter - but I could talk on and on about it. If you notice things or have predictions/opinions, PLEASE SHARE THEM. The reason why I'm not saying more is BECAUSE I like hearing your thoughts! I like having conversations! I'd love to talk about this fic and SDMI or Mystery Skulls with anyone who wants to! I hope you all loved this chapter just as much as I did! Until next time, Auf Wiedersehen! 😈

Chapters 1-13 of One of Us are presently posted on Archive of Our Own.

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