#columbo gets such a kick out of this

[columboscreens]

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Closing Time

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Bartender!Reader

Rating: Mature

Notes: Not beta-read, cause when is it ever. Just a little oneshot, set pre-show

No physical descriptions, no use of y/n.

Warnings: Cursing, flirty Rhett, drunk Rhett

Summary: “You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

You knock on the bar twice, catching Rhett's hazy eye and raising a brow. 

“You good?” 

“Fine.” It’s a near-slurred mumble, chased by the delayed glance toward a woman you’d seen him talking to half an hour ago. There are so few people left in the bar, it's hard to miss her. Now, she’s on the arm of one of the Tillerson’s—you’re too lazy to get a better look at which one. You’re already dreading whichever one might come over to pay the tab, if they bother to pay the tab tonight. You’ve been working long enough to know not to chase the Tillersons out the door when they haven’t. Luke typically turns up some time around opening the next day, asking what they owe with a smarmy smile, dropping a thick stack of bills on the countertop to cover it, and telling you to keep the change, sweet thing. 

You lean back against the counter, eyeing the few other patrons, waving at the few that have already paid and are on their way out. You glance toward Rhett again, toward where he’s trailing his finger along the side of his half-full beer. He looks back as the TIllerson’s explode in laughter. They rise from their table, trailing toward the door. 

“‘Ey,” Rhett mumbles it at first, so softly that you hardly realize he’s spoken. He tries it again, louder, as the Tillerson's breeze outside. 

“Hey!” He yells, rising so quickly that he sends the stool tumbling to the ground. 

“Dude!” You hiss. 

“You didn’t pay!” He’s still yelling after them, as if they’re not already gone. You lean over the bar and reach out, whacking him in the bicep with the rag you use to clean the counter top. It seems to snap him out of it, and he glances between you and the door, pointing after them. “They didn’t pay!” 

“Thank you for the update, Columbo. Would you sit back down?” 

You reach out, taking up his unfinished beer and dumping it out. 

“I wasn’t done with that—” 

“You’re done with it now. Sit down and gimme your phone.” 

Rhett seems to take a moment to process what you've said. Then he takes your orders one after another, reaching down and taking up the stool and righting it before sitting. He fishes into his pocket, drawing his phone out and passing it over. You eye the cracked screen before you hold it up to him. 

“Open it.” 

He hesitates, gaze flickering to you before he does as he’s told again. You bring the phone back, finding Perry’s number and raising it to your ear. 

“Rhett?” The question is croaked out after two rings, “What are you doin’, callin’ now?” 

“Come get your brother.” 

“...Aw, hell,” Perry mutters. The sound is in and out; you’re almost certain he's scrubbing his hand over his face. “Alright. I’ll be there in twenty.” 

“Fuckin’ better. I've gotta close here.” 

You don’t wait for his answer, you just hang up and toss Rhett’s phone onto the counter in front of him. You catch a glimpse of his hangdog expression as you turn away from him, taking up a coffee mug and filling it before turning back to him. 

“Take your time with it,” You warn as you set it down. “It’s hot.” 

“...They didn’t pay.” 

“I know. They’ll come back in the morning.” 

“That so?” 

“Trust me. This isn’t the first time.” 

“They get away with all that shit.” 

“They’re not getting away with anything," You fib. "If you left without paying, I’m sure you’d be back in the morning, too.” You walk over to the counter, popping the register open and beginning to count the till out. Otherwise empty, the bar has settled into quiet, save for the murmur of music over the speakers, and the odd thud of Rhett’s coffee mug being set back down on the counter. You glance over at him, weighing your options, watching him smooth his hand over his hair, the brace on his wrist nearly obscuring his face as he reaches up. You turn back to the bills, counting through them. 

“You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

“How’d you know I got a bad bull?”

“Heard people talking.” 

“I wasn’t trying to fight Luke.” 

“Oh, please,” You chuckle. “Don’t pretend you were trying to protect the integrity of the business.” 

“They act like they own everything in this damn town.” 

You won’t argue with that. He’s not wrong—but it’s also not something that you’re willing to combat. They’re assholes, but they’re assholes that tip. 

“Keep drinking your coffee,” You advise. “Your ma’ll have my head if you’re drunk as a skunk when you get in.” 

“She won’t,” Rhett chuckles. “She loves you. ‘Sides, I did this myself.” 

“I should’ve cut you off two beers ago.” 

“I ain’t that bad.” 

“Not all that good, either. Speaking of which, if you’re gonna toss, aim for a trash can.” 

“I’m not gonna be sick.” 

“You sure?” 

“Trust me.” 

“If you say so.” 

“I been worse than this.” 

“Well, that I know.” 

“You’re really makin’ me feel better.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I’m not here to make you feel better, Abbott. This isn’t Cheers, despite the fact that you chose to go somewhere everybody knows your name.” 

“Can’t go anywhere in Amelia County without someone knowing my name.” 

“Well hey, big guy, my apologies.”

“That ain’t what I mean,” Rhett chuckles. Then he perks up, patting his hands on the counter. “What can I do?”

“What?” You frown, glancing up from the stack of twenties.

“Put me to work. What can I do?” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’ll just be sitting here til Perry comes an’ gets me. C’mon.” 

You hesitate before you nod toward the flap. 

“Grab the clorox spray and wipe down the tables if you really wanna help.” 

Rhett stands, rounding the counter and lifting the flap to get behind the bar. He ducks down, eyeing the shelf that you pointed to before he grabs the spray and the rag. You arch a brow, watching him round to the end of the bar, starting with the furthest tables. Maybe he’s trying to get out of trouble with you. Maybe he thinks if he helps out, you won’t mention this to his mama. Hell, you’re not planning on mentioning it to her, anyway, but you’ll take all the help you can get. 

“If you throw up, you’re cleaning it up,” You warn. 

“Told you,” He calls back. “I’m not gonna be sick.” 

You grunt, filling out the closing sheet before tucking the cash into the envelope. You find yourself tucking it into the back of your jeans, drawing your shirt down over it. You trust Rhett, sure, but if someone comes in when you’re cleaning up and it’s just laying around, and that sleeve comes up missing, your ass is on the chopping block. 

You look over to find Rhett studiously scrubbing the bar. You can’t help but smile a little. That hangdog look seems to have vanished. You can’t help but wonder what’s done it. Maybe his head is clearing up; maybe it’s because he’s helping you out, making himself useful. 

“You gimme a minute, we can start putting up the chairs,” You offer. 

“I can do it.”

“It’ll go faster with two.” You shut the drawer, locking it before you round the counter. You reach out, taking the rag and spray from him. “You feeling better?”  

“Yeah,” He admits. “Think I just needed to move around a bit. Coffee helped.” 

“Good.” You glance toward the clock. “Perry should be here soon.” 

Rhett nods, picking up his coffee and taking a swig. 

“Want some more?” You ask, nodding toward the mug.

“Uh…” He frowns, tipping the mug toward himself. “If there is more, yeah. Please.” 

You nod, taking up the coffee pot. “Polite as always, Abbott.” 

“Not always.” 

“I suspect you can be damn polite when you wanna be, so long as I’m not a Tillerson.” 

“Alright, let up,” He grumbles, drawing his mug back as you empty the coffee pot and set it down again. You smile as he nods back. “Are we stackin’ chairs?” 

“In a minute. Drink your coffee.”

“You always been this bossy?” 

“Yes.” 

“How’d I never realize?” 

“Probably too distracted by cute girls and the Tillerson’s to notice.” 

“Jealous, honey?” 

The accusation sends heat skittering up your neck. You force an eye roll, turning away and straightening up. 

“Alright, cap it and help me stack some fucking chairs,” You grumble, skirting out from behind the bar. 

“That a yes?” Rhett trails after you like a puppy; even with your back to him, you can practically hear his dopey smile. It makes that heat creep up just a little higher. You reach down, forcing your mind to the task at hand, and away from Rhett’s fastidious and curious gazes. 

“S’alright, you can tell me. If you’d told me sooner, I might’a done something about it,” Rhett adds. You glance over toward him, watching him lift a chair and set it on the table. 

“Is that right?” You ask dryly. 

“Sure. Always thought you were pretty.” 

“Were?” You lean into it, ready to brush off the flirting, “The bloom’s already off the rose?” 

You set a chair onto the table, and before you can get any further, you feel the warmth of him behind you. He raises his hands, bracketing you in and grasping the legs of the chair that you’ve set on the table. Your heart ticks up in your chest as you keep your gaze set forward. 

“You see all those other chairs, Abbott?” You ask lightly. Rhett is quiet for a moment, stepping closer, lips brushing against your temple. 

“I don’t see anything else in here but you, sugar.” 

You push back the warmth that his murmur wells up in favor of nudging him aside with a laugh of, “Oh, that’s good.” You walk to the next table, stalwartly keeping your gaze from his as you begin to put up more chairs. You glance back to find Rhett leaning dejectedly against the table, and you sigh softly. 

“Don’t do that,” You grumble. 

“What?” 

“Pout.” 

“I struck out twice.” 

“You only struck out once.” 

“What do you call this?” Rhett asks, waving his finger between the two of you. You rest a hand on the table, cocking your hip. 

“This," You mimic his gesture, "Was never gonna happen. No offense, Abbott, but I don’t fuck drunk patrons.” 

“What about sober ones?” 

“You aren’t sober, Rhett.” 

“Not right now, but…” 

You raise your brows as Rhett lets it hang in the air. You consider for a moment before you shrug a little. You may as well throw the guy a bone—especially since you mean it, a little.

“Maybe,” You concede, “But bat those pretty lashes all you want, it ain’t happening tonight.” 

Your stomach flips as Rhett’s lips pull into a teasing little smile. “You think my lashes are pretty?” 

You laugh again, shaking your head and turning away from him. 

“Put up the damn chairs, Abbott.” 

[queerculus]

Monk and Columbo would meet trying to solve two murders simultaneously that are somehow related in a way neither of them can figure out. Columbo would immediately try to charm Monk but Monk would be completely oblivious. Sharona would watch the entire thing and say nothing, thinking Monk would never go for it.

A cut would happen where Monk realizes what happened six hours later and calls Sharona in the middle of the night. He says "Sharona I think that detective we met earlier was hitting on me" and she'll say "oh really? I didn't notice" in a very sarcastic tone. Monk would miss the sarcasm and say "yes, I didn't realize it at first either but thinking back he was definitely interested in me." Sharona would sigh deeply and say "Adrian you don't even like men" to which he replies "Well. I don't not like men." Sharona says "that tracks" which Monk ignores before giving her a list of the insane ways he wants to try to signal back to Columbo he's interested. Sharona shoots them all down.

The next day he does all of them anyway but manages to botch all of them. The entire scene is a disaster from start to finish. Columbo is enraptured with this strange, brilliant man and asks him to dinner. Monk gives Sharona a smug look and she says "like two peas in a weird little pod."

They go to dinner and can't even order before getting deeply wrapped up in the details of each others cases. The restaurant kicks them out for not ordering anything after two hours. While being kicked out they each see a clue that finally solves their respective cases and helps them figure out the link between them.

The two of them stage one of Monk's elaborate tell-all reveals where he and Columbo take turns explaining the series of events of their interrelated cases in chronological order, each one talking about the part of the case they worked on. In the end the two men who conspired together are arrested. Before the episode ends, Columbo pauses and says "just one more thing" before planting one on Monk.

In the post-episode scene Sharona is asking Monk about when he knew. They have a heartfelt conversation where Monk talks about a man he dated before he met his wife. At the very end of the story he says "anyway, Leland and I are better off as friends anyway" to which Sharona immediately starts saying "Stottlemeyer!? Leland Stottlemeyer?!?" and Monk starts to talk away from her quickly and she yells "Adrian you get back here right now and answer me!"

[nerdieforpedro]

Get a room you two and BONE

Part two of the Roc & Doc Series

Tim Rockford x plus size OFC (Doc)

Rating: Mature only because of some of the banter.

This blog is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.7k

Summary: It’s been a month since “The Case of the Vanishing Pens” had been solved. Things have changed somewhat between Tim and Doc. Are they both okay? Turns out, friends can suck sometimes.

Warnings: bad TV references, teasing, theft, angst?, mention of murder and STD, friends being menaces, the trench coat, bad singing, a murder threat (affectionately)

Notes: Originally, part two was going to be 7k of words. 😅 That was way too long so we’ll have a part two and three. I am working toward something. We’ll all find out when I get there. I’m fond of trench coats now. 😎 A huge smooch to @lady-bess who beta read for me and had some hilarious commentary. 🤣

The top item from the “what should go missing next” poll is in here! The runner ups are in part three. 🤭

Dividers are by the ever lovely @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist / Tim Rockford Masterlist / Rock & Doc Series

You and the detective had dinner three times a week and tried to alternate who pays. Tim had you pay the first time but he insisted on paying the others. It’s been a month since “The Case of the Vanishing Pens.” You told Tim that his jokes were as old as Columbo. He was not amused. Tim told you that he’s a classic like Columbo, and you need to show respect. And honestly, he’s more like Kojak - able to find a parking space anywhere in LA. You choked on your shrimp fried rice while sitting in the passenger seat of his car, he patted your back to try and help the piece of shrimp go down, it eventually did. 

“You’re not bald Rockford. Are you starting to go bald? Is that why you think you’re like Kojak?”, you asked, "going to start rocking three piece suits with a briefcase?”. Tim’s face freezes and he squints his eyes. 

“I will kick you out of my car and leave you at this restaurant Doc. Don’t joke about a man’s hair.”

“You wouldn’t dare, Kojak would never. If you’re going to be mad about it, don’t compare yourself to a famous bald TV detective. Stick with Columbo Rockford.” The two of you grinned at each other. Since the pen incident, it’s become even easier to joke with Tim. You feel you’ve grown somewhat closer to him, but you still won’t ask him anything personal. He doesn’t ask you those types of questions either. It crosses an imaginary line you both have drawn for yourselves.

Tim had told you that you didn’t need to pay, he’d been teasing you for stealing his pens, though he still doesn’t fully buy it was just about a menu. You had also told him, “no, we’re both city employees getting shit pay. We gotta split it, Tim.” He laughed and reluctantly agreed. So the two of you started alternating tabs. Why would you offer to pay when you clearly have some unnamed grudge against him (in his mind anyway)? Is this a ‘keep your friends close and enemies closer’ sort of deal? 

The answer doesn’t come to him as he finishes the last of his egg roll, some duck sauce is on his chin in his beard. With a moist towelette you pull from the depths of your tote bag, you dab his chin and succeed in getting the sauce off and making Tim re-evaluate what your end goal is. It’s too soft of a touch as you could have pushed his face as part of your teasing but you didn’t. You’ve given him small hip bumps in the autopsy room or even in your office. Those don’t feel intimate like this, maybe it’s because it’s his car or the lack of space. It’s dangerously close to the line he’s drawn in the sand with you. It’s times like these that Tim is thankful you don’t notice him clearing his throat or keeping his cafe brown eyes on you as you slurp your noodles. He’s thinking too much again.

Rockford ensures that you get back to your small car you call ‘the blueberry.’ The car suits your personality. It feels loud, quirky but not over the top, much like its owner. He never leaves before watching you pull out of the parking lot and make the right turn at the light. It’s then that he begins his own drive home. He sometimes has an inkling to text if you got home alright but he’s never texted you outside of work. Except the two times he picked you up tacos… alright, maybe it was four times, but limited to food options. Why is it so weird? 

Rockford sighs at the orange streetlights ahead of the hood of his old Ford Crown Victoria. His mind is on you again, but it’s just because you spend a lot of time with each other and you look a hell of a lot better than any of his other partners. Well, you’re not his partner but it kinda feels like it when he talks out cases with you. Stevenson is a solid partner, but he’s wet behind the ears and still learning quite a bit. You, on the other hand, listen. Look at him with genuine interest with questions that tell him you were indeed hearing him. Tim is in his driveway wondering if you’ve already walked up the two flights of stairs to your apartment. He knows you like music but what else do you like?

“Shit.” Rockford gets out of his car and enters his home, dropping off his trench coat and shoes near the door. He stretches out on the couch and flips on the TV. There should be something to watch. An episode of Kojak is in progress with him parking perfectly, getting out of the car, bald head shining with a three piece suit and his briefcase. “What are the chances…?”

As promised, you brought him 4 boxes of pens over the months you’d been eating take out with him. He had nowhere to stick them and wondered if you were pranking him; you were not. You just felt bad about taking his pens for so long. You overdid it a bit, you explained and offered to hold some of them in your office. Tim declined and made room on the top of one of his file cabinets. Seeing something that you’d given him made him smile softly, before turning to face you, he cleared his throat and put his hands on those hips of his, saying he had work to do. You nodded and told him you’d see him around, you were sure there'd be more bodies to look at before long together. The detective sat at his desk and looked at the reports he needed to finish up, they suddenly seemed tedious. He’s wondering if he should have told you it would have been alright if you wanted to stay for a bit. Could have spoken to you while working on them to make the time go faster. Your absence is an issue for Tim. He’s got too many of those already.

Tim stopped by later in the evening to update you on what happened with the arsenic case. Turns out, the victim’s girlfriend had convinced him to become a pescatarian for better health. The girlfriend found out that the victim had two other lovers and had given them the clap (gonorrhea) in addition to her. The three happened to meet in the same clinic where they were getting tested. She had contacted those two after getting diagnosed as the name was different, but the physical description was the same as her boyfriend. It was then that the girlfriend started dosing his food to kill him. She told Tim and the other detectives that she wanted to watch him slowly die. She apparently laughed as they were taking her away in handcuffs. 

You are engrossed in the details. Tim tells you the entire thing from beginning to end, he adds in tidbits from his notes that wouldn’t be in any of your reports. Despite looking like he was tired of everyone’s bullshit ninety percent of the time, the detective was rather animated in explaining the case to you. He walked back and forth in your office and then placed his hands on the back of a chair while leaning in to go over how the dots were connected between the seemingly unrelated people. If the man wasn’t a detective, he should be a voice actor or teacher…you’re sure there’s a suitable profession you’re forgetting in between the options, whatever would warrant people listening to him for a while. 

Toward the end of Tim’s colorful retelling, Kim, one of the clerks and a friend of yours, stopped by the office. She was watching the two of you, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. She would have made a joke about you getting yourself in Tim’s trench coat but knew you wouldn’t forgive her for saying it in front of the man that you swear you only have respect and adoration for. Kim had tried to get you to understand your feelings, to at least see that you may want to spend time outside of work with the famed detective. The time may include an actual date at some point.

You’d always told her that it was because he’s always been respectful toward you, and that he came by your office when he didn’t need to. Like today. Kim was sure you hadn’t asked for any follow up on the case, yet here Rockford is telling you about it and you’re giving him all his attention. It’s annoying to watch the two of you. Sure he might be older than you, but it’s less than ten years and she’s sure he doesn’t talk to his ex-wife at all. At one point the precinct did think they were going to get back together shortly after you’d become the new medical examiner five years ago but nothing ever came of it. Not that Kim kept that close on an eye on things for you.Thankfully, there’s only been rumors of maybe some women here and there. Detective Rockford is one who stays holster deep in murders and crime. Kim did have to agree with you on one thing, those holsters are a damn good look on the man. She understands why your eyes linger on him. Kim preferred her men to be on the skinny side so she could toss them around a bit - she can be a bit rough at times.

Waiting until Tim seemed finished with his story, Kim knocked on the open door so the two of you would hear her. 

“Hey Doc, Tim. What are you two crazy kids up to? Making some more dinner plans? Going to take it a step above take out and go to a place where there might be seats inside the restaurant?” The detective bit the side of his jaw which Kim was quick to notice and smirked. Like how does she not notice how bothered he is when anyone interrupts him speaking to her? Maybe Tim liked her stealing his pens? Hmm…that’s an idea.

Your face hardens at your friend’s joke and you start nervously pressing your hands together. At least it wasn’t the trenchcoat one she likes to make, thank goodness. Tim looked back at the door and stood up, shaking his head. 

“Hey Kim. Just knew Doc would want to hear how the case turned out. I’m going to head out Doc. I’m going to go make sure Stevenson isn’t still working on the homicide from last week. He makes fun of my chicken scratch, but he types slow as hell for someone fifteen years younger than me. Good night Doc, don’t steal anymore pens. I know she’ll be your accomplice.” Rockford nods, gives you a smile and once at the doorway, cuts his eyes at Kira before leaving. Your friend slides by Tim as he exits and plops down across from you and snickering. 

“Did the famed detective get a bit pissed at me because I came between him and his dear Doc? For shame and I guess I did know you were taking his pens. To be fair, I did tell you to stop several times.” She playfully tapped her own hand as if she was being reprimanded. You sat back in your chair and shook your head. She’s been teasing you about this for as long as you had stolen that man’s pens well after. Tim didn’t tease you as much anymore. Well, sometimes, but only when you got in the car and he asked to see your hands to make sure you didn’t remove anything from his glove box or console.

“Could you just drop it? Please…what did you come here for Kim?”. 

“I came to remind you that this weekend is our friend’s engagement party. And before you start,” Kim reached out and took hold of Doc’s hand, “you’ve RSVPed, we bought an outfit a few weeks ago just for this party theme and I could give this back to one such man in a trench coat after you go.” Kim’s free hand exposed a little black book that Tim often carried everywhere for his notes. Your eyes are wide, it’s bad enough about the pens but it’s a funny joke now. His book?! 

“Dammit Kim, you need to give it back now!” Kim is shocked at your growl and lets go of your hand, holding tighter to the book. 

“No. You give it to him and say it fell out of his pocket or something. He has fifty places in that trench coat I could have been. I honestly think he likes it when you take his stuff.” She stood up and so did you, were you really going to fight her over this man’s book? “The fact that you’re this upset, proves my point. You need to talk to him, stop just watching him, have him take you to a place where you order and eat inside and maybe go to your place or his and-”

“Don’t finish that sentence. Just give me the book and maybe he won’t push for me to resign or be in a different county or something for harassment.” Your hands are on your head, running through how badly this could go. No matter how nice Tim is, taking that book is almost as bad as taking his tie or holsters. It’s a part of him. Though it would be kinda cool if you held it for a minute. No…no. You can’t go into that rabbit hole. That is reserved for when you’re in your apartment in your PJs and are sipping on some hot chocolate with some cookies. 

“You just need to bone….be on the desk and bone…maybe he keeps the trench coat on while you bone…I know he’s wearing the holsters when you bone…maybe you pull the hair he still has while you bone…you grab his biceps while you bone…”. Kim is singing horribly off key and if you weren’t so frustrated and anxious you’d tell her to shut it. But you need a laugh to release the tension in your body so you do, doubled over on your desk. Kim drops the black book before you and kisses your forehead.

“You just need a push to talk to him and you're already a bit of a thief. Just slip his book in his car the next time you two eat and talk to him. It’s not like people in the department don’t date. That’s how the captain met his wife.” She pats your head. “They fought over a stapler, she threw it at him. He said she had an excellent throwing arm. Love was in the air.” Kim did a jazz hand flourish and you look up, rolling your eyes.

“I would rather not be violent with the man. And I will not…bone him. Gah, you made me say it.” You shake your head and sit back and sigh. “Just please don’t push it. Can I just stay in my safe little bubble, please? Daydream about the man, why can’t I do that? Why will you not let me do that?” 

Kim sat back down and crossed her arms, sucking her teeth, “Real talk right now Doc. It’s not your job title that keeps you from talking to Tim. It’s that you’re scared that he might actually reciprocate your feelings and you may have to be in a relationship with a grown man with baggage, can hold a conversation with you and will be able to hold it down in the bedroom.” Your hands cover your face. You’re not discussing this at work. No…but you are. “Stop acting like you haven’t thought about it.” Kim laughs at your discomfort and embarrassment, but pauses to sneak a peek at her phone. “I would drop more truth bombs at you but I have to go. Tony’s here to pick me up. I will see you tomorrow and this weekend. Maybe one day you’ll have your detective use his investigative skills under a dress like that.”

“Please go to Tony before I have to call and tell him you're on my slab.”

“You’re too busy trying to find a way into a trench coat to worry about murdering me. Take care getting home.”

“I will never tell you anything again. Good night.”

Part One

Part Three

Keen moots who may want the trench coat on with nothing else 🧥:

@alltheglitterandtheroar @sin-djarin @morallyinept @yorksgirl @bitchwitch1981 @heareball @megamindsecretlair @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills @yorksgirl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @avastrasposts @clawdee @pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing @rhoorl @inept-the-magnificent @grogusmum @agentjackdaniels @pedroshotwifey @laurfilijames @frenchiereading

[howlingday]

Nora: Jaune? Jaune, are you alright?

Jaune: (Holding up a Pumpkin Pete box) Jaune's not here right now.

Nora: Jaune, you're just having a hard time dealing with the psychological trauma after the loss of your best friend and partner, so you switched personalities to Pyrrha on a box of Pumpkin Pete's.

Jaune: Ooh, good one, Columbo! You figure that out on your own?

Nora: Okay, I think the best thing for Jaune to do is to talk to one of us about Pyrrha's death.

Jaune: No! No, you moron! Jaune can't let the memories end! Just leave us alone!

Nora: Pyrrha, I'm trying to Jaune, so could you please stop getting between us?

Jaune: Why would he want to talk to some two-bit second-rate barely certified huntress in training?!

Nora: What did you say?!

Jaune: You heard me, you fucking bitch! There's corgis that make better huntresses than you!

Nora: YOU FUCKING SLUT! (Nab cereal box, Punching it)

Jaune: (Staring out the window)

Nora: (Smacking herself with the cereal box, Falls to the ground)

Ruby: Yo, check it out! Nora and Pyrrha are fighting!

Nora: I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS!

Ruby/Ren/Yang: (Cheering)

Taiyang: HEY! KNOCK IT OFF!

Nora: (Panting, Tosses cereal box to Jaune) Y... You win this round... Pyrrha...

[phantoms-lair]

New School New You.

For @era-the-witchy-birdkid's Super!Conan AU

Elementary School was demeaning, boring, and it was taking all he had not to snap at the next kid who asked him what kind of weird name 'Conan' was.

Maybe he should snap? That might be more believable for his apparent age. Ugh, this sucked.

And while he appreciated the easier gym class to the Kishida-sensei's drill sergeant approach, it was perhaps too far in the other direction as the gym teacher had just set them up on a soccer field with some balls and left them alone??? That couldn't be legal. Still it was nice to be outside. He hadn't had much time for playing since he'd quit the soccer team to focus on cases and the sun on his skin felt good.

Still it was nice just kicking a ball around. It had always helped him think. And the sounds of being impressed from his new classmates were much better than jabs about his name and well...he had always been a bit of a show off, so why not give his new classmates a show?

He bounced the ball up and then kicked it as hard as he could. The ball whizzed past the goalies head - and kept going. It stretched the net to capacity and broke through, slamming into the oak tree of the other side before knocking it clear over.

No way.. Conan fell to the ground, staring at the damage he had inadvertently caused, the poor goalie sobbing on his knees. The gym teacher finally reappeared and ran to comfort him before shooing all the kids back in to get changed out of their gym clothes. His classmates gave him a wide berth and he honestly couldn't blame them.

Still, there had to be a logical reason. Old netting on the goal post, rot in the tree, something. He went back to the scene of the incident after school to gather evidence. Sure this wasn't a crime, but this was a case and he was going to solve it.

It looked like the net had already been removed, so he'd have to concentrate on the tree. Cursing his tiny legs he had to stand on tip-toe to see the broken area and-

"What are you doing?"

Conan almost fell over in surprise. He turned around to see three of his new classmates staring at him. "I'm trying to find out why the tree fell over."

"Cause you kicked the ball at it!" The larger one proclaimed.

Conan narrowed his eyes. "A kid can't knock over a tree with a soccer ball. Not even a grown up could do that. There must have been something wrong with the tree." Hmm, it looked healthy enough, but he couldn't say anything without looking at it under a microscope. He pulled a chuck of wood out and it gave way easily. "See!" He waved the wood around. "On a healthy tree I'd need a cutting tool or something to get that out." "Unless," The tall thin boy countered. "It broke because you have super strength. Obviously then you pulling it out wouldn't change anything because your hand are as strong as your legs."

Conan rolled his eyes. Kids. "Super strength isn't a real thing."

"The prove it!" The larger boy countered. "Prove you don't have super strength."

"How?" Conan asked dryly.

The three kids converged together and whispered, then turned to face Conan, ready to give their answer.

He crossed his arms. "Is it something that would get me hurt if, as I said, I don't have super strength."

The three kids looked at each other and returned to their huddle. When they broke this time the girl spoke. "You need to try and break something that we know isn't easily broken. Like a piece of metal!"

"And where are you going to get the metal? I'm not breaking the soccer goalposts."

"There's construction work going on around the Columbo restaurant. I bet there's something there!" the thin boy declared.

"Great idea, Mitsuhiko-kun!" the girl complained.

The boy now identified as Mitsuhiko-kun blushed. "Thank you, Ayumi-chan!"

Two names down, at least. "Let's go and get this farce over."

~

The site had already closed for the day, but it was easy enough to sneak inside.

The larger boy, who'd since been identified as Genta, tried to lift up and I-Beam and could barely budge it. "That should do."

"Anything to get this over with." Conan grabbed the beam with both hands and froze. He pantomimed trying to lift it, appearing to strain his muscles. "See?"

The three kids looked disappointed. "I guess there was something wrong with the tree after all," Mitsuhiko sighed. "Sorry for bothering you."

Once they'd left, Conan looked at the underside of the I-Beam. There were indents from his hand, indents he'd felt himself making. He looked over to where Genta had grabbed it. Nothing.

Almost mechanically he slotted his hands back to where the indents were and pulled in opposite directions. The I-Beam tore like tissue paper.

Conan stared at the twisted metal What did that poison do to me?

[ozonecologne]

I've been getting really into Columbo recently (Tubi now has it all) and I have Soooo Many Thoughts. But mostly I am just tickled by how in S3.06 Columbo's basset hound gets kicked out of obedience school because he fails their program (he simply will not follow directions, he is Very Lazy), and when Columbo asks if he could possibly stay enrolled for another week the director of the program says, "I'm sorry. He... demoralizes the other students."

HE DEMORALIZES THE OTHER STUDENTS

[mythawolf]

Hey! This is my Sleuthsona/Detectivesona Charles "Charlie" Wolf! (I apologise for the shitty art I think drawing small to save effort was a mistake and I can't be bothered to redo it).

Here's the rundown:

Autistic, dyspraxic and short-sighted in one eye. The dyspraxia often gets him kicked out of crime scenes while simultaneously being helpful with finding clues.

Smart and a Dumbass. Uses Columbo methods except with less legality.

Got his coat from a car boot sale.

(To clear up any confusion, Wolf is not my irl surname. I doubt whether there is anyone with Wolf as an actual surname).

The police tolerate him at best. Probably jealous of his lovely curly hair. And also that one time he accidentally destroyed a bunch of evidence.

Doesn't work on weekends.

To those of you asking "Is he competent or not?", I shall provide an answer: He is both competent AND incompetent!

Maybe I should make a Spidersona one of these days... (except not colours in because... well, just look at the art above!).

[wiihtigo]

do u have any tips for getting into ocs and developing them tho 🤔😭

Hmm I’ve had ocs in the past and I’ve wondered why I picked and chose favorites among the cast I made and I thjnk for the ones I didn’t gaf about it was because I was forcing myself to make characters filling space because I thought it would make my story look more complete but it just ended up I neglected those ocs because I found nothing about them fun or compelling to spend time on.

With casey I’ve definitely gone full self indulgence which was probably helped by the fact her concept was literally based on a joke self insert character so the fuel for me spending time with her was my intense fixation on booster gold and how much I wanted to destroy hurt kill bite kill punch to death kick kill him 😀

Make things fun for yourself! Don’t shy away from making things that you know you’re already crazy for … I’m not shy about saying casey as a concept is a culmination of a LOT of favorite characters I’ve had in the past like peridot (su), the invader zim and tak storyline, Daffy Duck .. to name a few!

And I spent a long time perfecting her design so that it was fun to draw for me …. I made her a secretary/office lady type character cuz um. I THINK THEYRE HOT? LOL … and I really like that fashion style I draw her in. So she’s almost like a mannequin for me to draw clothes I really like aesthetically. so I really have a lot of fun drawing her ^_^ you can tell by how much I do it LOL

So my number 1 advice in conceptualizing ocs is to make things fun for yourself. Are your favorite charaxters always mad scientists.. you can make one. Do you think rubber aprons are hot. You can give them one. Have you been struggling with your gender identity. You can make your oc a girl with he him probouns. Do you wish columbo was a lesbian.. you can make it happen.

As for development, as soon as I got the basic deets for casey and her role in the story I had for her to paper I found one of those tumbrl oc ask games and just filled out every single question for her. A lot of stuff was made up on the spot but just felt right and most often stuck that way but there’s no shame in making little changes as your oc grows on you and you get better aquatinted with eachother. For example I had the idea initially casey would have rich/well off and well meaning parents who were extremely normal and loved her a lot and it would be kind of a meet the robinsons “THEY ALL HATED ME” dynamic. But I quickly changed it as I thought more about casey because what I have with her and spider feels more.. fitting.

It also helps a ton if you have a friend willing to lend an ear :) and I don’t mean just 50+ messages discord chats (because those are extremely enlightening too) but I mean just posting and posting and posting about your little guy and getting those precious 4 likes on your lore document. I always take this sort of approach with original stuff LOL IF I POST ABOUT CASEY LIKE A LUNATIC FOREVER EVENTUALLY ILL TRICK EVERYONE INTO THINKING THEYRE CASEY FANS…!!!

Sorry for the rambly answer! I hope I was able to say at least 1 crumb of helpfulness

[hballegro]

alright here's the essay under the cut.

entirely just my experience w/ MASH, almost no editing [just spelling mistakes and a few apostrophe misuses]. fair warning, my father was [is] an alcoholic and a horrible person, and i mention that a bit, so if thats something you're sensitive to, bewarned.

         My story with M*A*S*H begins a hundred years ago when I was somewhere between 5 and 8, old enough to watch television but not old enough to remember how old I was when I was doing it. The childhood I had was overall unremarkable, marred only by my pitiful excuse for a father that parented by either drinking or being hungover on the couch in between screaming at his children or beating his wife. Unfortunately, he is part of this story, but only accidentally. See, he used to do all that stuff in our unfinished basement, on an old ugly couch, hiding from his family all day. Then, eventually, he decided he liked the couch and television upstairs better, and plagued the family room for many years instead, putting whatever he wanted to watch on instead of letting his children watch cartoons. I ended up liking The Three Stooges quite a lot, less out of actually thinking it was fun and more out of it being the only thing he’d put on that I found remotely entertaining, so I was taking what I could get. We kept the old burned CDs he’d made of them after he moved out.

         Anyway. My mother had (and still has) a television in her room (it used to be their room, but she kicked him out) that she could avoid him with. Not wanting to be around the violent cesspool of a person on my couch, I’d sometimes crawl to her room, so as not to let him see me and have him make me come over and listen to some music or whatever he wanted. Old guitarist reliving his glory days or something, I couldn’t tell you. But anyway, I’d enter her room and sit down on her bed with her or on the floor, and we’d watch TV. More often than not, she’d put on MeTV, because she watched those old shows with her own father, and it was a bright spot in her memory that gave her some escapism too. There were a lot of shows on there, but I only really ever remembered things like Gilligan’s Island, ALF, Columbo, Bewitched, The Twilight Zone, and, of course, M*A*S*H.

         I liked the other shows, of course. I remember them fondly, especially Gilligan’s Island, maybe it was the catchy theme song with words I could learn. I didn’t like how brown and gross Columbo was, but my mom explained that that’s just how it looked back then. I thought the puppet on ALF was funny, and The Twilight Zone scared me, but I was still interested. I remember enough of Bewitched to remember the nose wiggle and constantly mix it up with I Dream of Jeannie for some reason. Really, anything was better than watching the same episode of Farscape again, which I’ve heard is actually a very good show, but my father kept forgetting that he’d already made me start watching it, and so every viewing session was just the pilot. That’s also the reason I never learned Spanish.

         But then I got to M*A*S*H. I won’t lie to you and say that, as a wizened 5-to-8-year-old, I could ‘tell something was special’ about this show. It was a show. It was a show that I remember looking at my mom during, and seeing her really happy. Later she told me, after watching it with me in present day, that she would watch it with her own father, before her parents got divorced. Her father more or less was not present in her life after the split, and that happened when she was 14-ish. The show started airing when she was the age I was when I watched it with her, and she and her father made a weekly thing of it. Neither of us at that age should have watched it, but for both of us, it was forming a little bright spot in our minds, a good dream with a parent when times were tough.

         I remember laughing, even if I didn’t get all the jokes. I remember thinking I liked the shade of red one of the characters wore, and also the shade of dark blue the same character wore sometimes. I remember one or both of my siblings being there sometimes, laughing along. One of my siblings told me recently that B.J. Hunnicutt and John ‘Trapper’ McIntyre, both filling roles as doubles partners for Benjamin Franklin ‘Hawkeye’ Pierce, had merged into the same person in their memory. I thought that was hilarious; how could they ever think those were the same person! B.J. Hunnicutt had a mustache! Imagine my surprise re-watching season 4’s opener, ‘Welcome to Korea’, featuring a clean-cut fresh-faced Mike Farrell, lacking the horse brush I had so clearly remembered him housing under his nose.

         But the rewatching, yes, the rewatching. It started innocently enough. Between breaks at college, far beyond my young-youth, the real youth people mean when they use that word, my mother opened it up on the tv and put it on. No matter what era you go to in our household, the TV was always going. Most of the time no one was watching it, sometimes blatantly, loudly, explosively chattering and guffawing and gasping with our own business and ignoring it entirely. It was background noise, we all needed it, so we always had it. But something a little strange happened; my mother was watching it, as she often did when she put something on in the evenings to massage her brain to bed after a long day at work. I was typing away at something on my laptop, like I am now, sitting on the couch with her, which I am also doing now (although she’s long gone to bed), and I looked up.

         I saw Hawkeye.

         It didn’t feel like a rush of emotion, it didn’t feel like something important was happening. That was just my old friend. Looking absolutely horrible with the haircut he was rocking in the pilot, but I remembered him. The pilot doesn’t open with the theme, as I recognized that as soon as it played, it opens with golf, a little vignette of the camp before the choppers come in with wounded. I saw Hawkeye, I saw his shirt, and it really was like when you see an old friend, one you can’t really remember what all you did with, or where you met, or even each other’s names anymore, but you know they mean something to you. You knew this person, and you liked them, you liked them enough that even though you forgot everything else, you remember the love that was there.

         And it was a very small thing that happened, and it didn’t happen with every episode, but I would pause my music. My own background noise to drown out everyone else’s background noise, blasting into my headphones. I’d pause my music, read the subtitles, hear them faintly through muffled ears, and laugh along. Smile when I’d see a smile, and a little more than half pay attention.

         I went back to college, life went on, we only got maybe to the beginning of season two, but my mom didn’t continue without me. She waited, and eventually, I came home for the summer, summer of 2024.

         She put it on again, and the same thing happened. But this time, I way more than half paid attention. I really paid attention. By the time we got to Abyssinia, Henry, I completely paused whatever I was doing when it was on and sat, laptop open, head at a 45 degree angle to watch the TV. I’d still futz around during commercial breaks, but I waited for the commercial breaks to do anything now. More and more it warmed my heart, to see all these old friends I’d forgot about, drag them all out of the closet, finally see B.J. Hunnicutt with that stupid mustache again for the first time in over 15 years at least—it was all so amazing. I was laughing at this show that came out over 20 years before I was even born. My parents hadn’t even met yet when this thing ended. Then, of course, because of the way my brain unfortunately works, it is now all I can think about it, to the point I’ve convinced several people to watch it just by virtue of never-shutting-the-hell-up.

         And then? I finally got to see all my friends go home.

         I remember the night I watched the finale with my mother. We’d gotten to the penultimate episode, and we’d paused. It was near 8ish, near my mother’s bedtime, and she and I both agreed we could not handle the finale that night, it was too much. And so we put on something, My Name is Earl, anything to make noise, something funny, something light. That’s how the next several days went; do we feel like we can handle the end? No. Tonight? Maybe tomorrow. Maybe after dinner? It was a long day.

         But then, after dishes had been cleared and we were both sitting quietly, the sun had already gone down, and she proposes we watch it.

         So we did.

         I don’t cry at things anymore. I used to cry all the time as a kid, scraped knee, called an idiot by a sibling, way too much crying even for a kid. I got it out of my system, apparently, because now I’m an adult and I have trouble with making tears, and when they do come, they sneak up on me. The last time I remember crying was at my grandmother’s funeral, months ago, and before that, I have no idea. I get misty-eyed, sure, but nothing makes me boohoo.

         The same held for the finale. Contrasted heavily by my mother, the woman that regularly cries at especially-touching commercials, shedding a few for every other scene (the bus revelation, the final meal, Charles’s music adventure finale, the wedding dress, every single goodbye, and of course the big one at the end), I was mostly quiet. I remember it ending, and thinking, well, that was about the best finale I’d ever seen. I also thought about how I’d seen strikingly few finales, and that I ought to see more series through til the end. I spoke with my mother a bit about it, we had some good moments from the program tossed back and forth, and she went to bed.

         Then I took a shower, and after I got out, the floodgates busted. I was boohooing alright, blubbering too, but I couldn’t point to why. Sure, there were moments in the episode worthy of tears, but this was full sobbing, aching and pitiful and messy. I just left it as something not to worry about, and went on. Since then, on my own, I’ve rewatched select episodes, watched the finale (again) with the sibling that confused Trapper and B.J., done three paintings of stills from the show, made a miniature version of the signpost for my mom, and started writing again for the express purpose of doing things with these characters, and I’ve only now put a fine point on it. It’s a threefold answer of why I fell apart leaving the shower after watching an episode of television that aired 40 years ago.

         The first is simple; I have got it in my head that I need to be alright for everyone. If I’m happy, then everything is okay. I think it’s a relic from what made me stop crying, this need to tell everyone, “Hey, I’m the crybaby, so if I’m okay, then really, everything is okay!” My tears are (were) meant to be shed in private. They were my own cross to bear, especially for places like the bathroom where I could get privacy, as I shared a room with a sibling growing up. This is something I’m getting better about.

         The second answer is very warm; I finished M*A*S*H with my mom. I remember my grandfather, though he wasn’t too present in my life, and I loved him. He passed when I was young, but I was old enough to remember him, and his death date is near my birthday. My birthday is actually near a lot of either death-dates or birthdays of people that are now dead that my mom loved very much, so I am constantly reminded that my birth is the only good thing that happens to her that month. Finishing the show with her was special. We did it. It’s a tradition now. I don’t plan to have kids, but the future may be strange. At the very least, I know at least one sibling does, so I’ll just have to make sure their kids watch it, too. I don’t have anything of my grandfather’s, his family wasn’t kind to mine  and took pretty much everything when he died, but now I have this show. And I have this with my mother. It keeps my heart warm.

         And lastly, the thing responsible for the most boohooing, is that, like I said; I got to see my friends go home.

         I didn’t really think about it hard, but these were my little friends. I couldn’t remember them, but I remembered that I loved them. That they were something that made me happy, and made my very sad mother happy when I was little. They were funny, they were going through a very bad time and they were still being nice to each other and doing their best. They laughed, cried, cried some more, laughed some more. They drank, but in a safer way than what I knew of it at home, so it felt okay. They hugged, they fought, they loved each other. Then they were locked away in a little memory in my heart, and they sat there for over a decade, nearly two. And then those lovely people that made my life a little bit better finally, finally,

         Got to go home.

         A catharsis.

         Everything isn’t perfect, but all of us are somewhere better now. We have new problems. We have old scars. But the big bad is over. A little part of me healed. It was okay, finally. They got home. It’s okay.

         And if I can pick up a show from the 70’s about the 50’s that’s also still about the 70’s and the Vietnam war about all war that’s also about love and family and surgery with a cast that’s almost all gone now that so painfully soldered its place in my heart that watching the end of it all put me in a puddle on the floor of my bathroom at 11 at night, if I can wait 15 years and still manage to rouse these old soldiers and send them home, a little cracked but finally safe,

         I think B.J. Hunnicutt can drive those 3,000 miles to a little place in Maine to see his best friend. 

[columboscreens]

[dxctorstephenstrange]

OOC: Frustrated Rant Incoming. Strap In.

// Okay, I need to say a few things, because if I don't, it's going to fester and burn inside me, and that's not good for my mental health. If, after you read what I'm about to say, you've decided you've had enough of my shit, find the Unfollow button next to my blog name and click it. I'm too angry right now to get all gooey around the edges and beg you to understand and sympathize. Here goes...

I have posted here several times, lamenting that I haven't found the time or muse to come back fully and write for Stephen. I could've easily quit and peaced out, assuming that neither would come back to me enough to continue, but I stuck with it in the hopes that the stars would align in my favor.

I just need people to understand that there are justifiable reasons for me being absent. To wit: 1. Real life is a bitch, and gets in the way of my more enjoyable endeavors whenever it jolly well feels like it. There's nothing I can do about that except roll with it in the hopes that the clouds will part and the way will be clear for me. There's work; there are household matters; there are medical issues; plenty of things about real life are more than happy to build a road block in front of anyone wanting to kick back and express themselves creatively.

2. My depression rollercoaster has added a lot more dips and curves that I've had to ride lately, so even when I might find a moment or two to sneak in, I've likely been strapped into a seat on that ride and forced to endure it. If you're fortunate enough to not suffer from severe clinical depression, be as thankful as you possibly can, but also be mindful of the havoc it can wreak on others. One day you're as up as you can be, and later - even that same day - you can be free-falling into despair. Also, if you do suffer from depression, be mindful that it affects everyone a bit differently. What works for you may not work for me, and vice versa.

3. If you and I talk outside of Tumblr - mainly through Discord (Shatterhand2049) - you may notice that I'm not too good at initiating discussions. The reason is that I always believe I'm bugging people by messaging them, or that people just plain don't want to talk to me; otherwise, they'd message me. I'd like to believe I'm wrong on both counts, but I don't know that unless I ask, which is a whole other flavor of awkward. Just, please: Do not assume I don't give a shit because I'm not messaging you. Nothing could be further from the truth. If you're wondering what's going on, for the love of all that's holy: ASK. Don't wait until I finally come back and work up the nerve to reach out, and then be pissed off at me or act all aloof and distant. I shouldn't have to go into Columbo mode and suss out of you why you're coming off like you don't care anymore.

It's not like I expected a fucking ticker-tape parade or happy tears and hugs when I finally found the time and muse to return here. It's not that big a deal; I'm back, so if you feel like writing, let's do this.

Just...don't treat me like a schmuck, okay? Don't make me feel like I shouldn't have even bothered. We've all been where I was; it just took way longer for me than it may have ever taken for you. Nothing I can do about that except just keep pushing through the bedlam until I find an open space. Now I've found one. Don't make me feel like I should just crawl back into the chaos and stay there.

And, if you're out there thinking I'm being passive-aggressive or whatever by writing this, well...tough shit. I don't really care how my message is perceived, quite frankly; I only care that it's seen. Again, if you don't like my attitude, you know how to unfollow/block me. I'm not going to beg for understanding. I'm a bit too fed up at the moment to drop to my knees and plead to be spared.

Okay; enough of this horseshit. Game on.

[silent-sanctum]

so i just had a thought and this is partly inspired by @starry-blue-echoes's Bloops Behind the Scenes (Actor AU), but i cant help but circle my mind around the duality of Actor Jotaro

His character is this cold-looking, stoic, badass delinquent turned mentor that kicks ass and entertains no one's bullshit.

But if you get to know him irl, you'd be surprised he's significantly different than the Jotaro in JJBA:

If his character is an ISTP, Actor Joot is an ENFP (partly based on the info I found that both Ono and Mercer were ENFPs)

He's an absolute sweetheart and will help out if the staff needed help in setting up the scene or communicating with the other actors

A good boi

*softly smiles*

Smiles 10x more off-screen

In contrast to his character's lone wolf visage, he actually loves getting along and talking with the rest of the cast

Still gets shy and at times awkward, but he genuinely does his best to be friendly

During interviews, he speaks eloquently with that mild aura of enthusiasm in his speech combined with his off-screen smiles

Goes lives on social media often to answer some fan questions and update what goes on in his life

Posts a lot on Instagram with photos of himself with friends, the sceneries, him doing things, and his irl wife and child

Whether it's Joot in JJBA or Actor Joot, both have a fairly large fanbase of girls swooning over him. Difference is JJBA Joot gets annoyed by it but Actor Joot is flattered by it.

*breathy, shy laughter* "Ah... you guys."

Is very entertained when he sees posts his fans made comparing him with Jotaro Kujo- there's something interesting seeing his beaming face placed beside a photo of his character glaring at the camera.

Does not smoke at all irl but he does fancy himself to few glasses of wine, champagne, and the occasional beer

Feels bad whenever the script tells him to show some form disrespect to anyone ever

Does his own stunts and gets the thrill from doing them

May have laughed by accident when filming certain scenes

"If there's something I can relate myself with him, I think it's that inner dork inside of him, you know with Columbo and him making out of nowhere one-liners... it's so random and I love it."

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @magpiepills who asked what I was working on. Such a loaded question my dear, what am I not working on? 😘

Well, since I am trying to focus and that is difficult for me when it comes to my writing, I’m going with five. It’s a solid number:

1. I'll dance for you - A Santiago Garcia one shot. Got some humor and drinking, not sure if it will be sweet, smut or both. 😋

2. Wrong Beach and a Speedo (title will likely change) Javi G summer romance. I like nice things sometimes. Sweet honey bear Javi 🧸 needs more fics! 😎

3. Chapter 2 of Roc & Doc - poor Tim. People really want his stuff to go missing. What did you do to the people Tim? 🤣

4. Florida Heat - Santiago Garcia x Dave York. I finally started it! 😘 It’s going to be a lot, I was going to do a clip of that but...they hadn't even really gotten to anything yet and it was pretty racy. 👀

5. We’re the Leftovers - I think I’ll go hotel/motel first because I’m not in a dark mood. Plus Marcus deserves some love. A bit angsty. 😙

I decided on an except from chapter 2 of "Roc & Doc" because of the TV cop references. I watch way too much TV:

The detective and doctor had dinner three times a week and tried alternating who pays. Tim had Doc pay the first time but he insisted on paying the others. It’s been a month since “The Case of the Vanishing Pens.” Doc told Tim that his jokes were as old as Columbo. He was not amused. Tim told her that he’s a classic like Columbo, and she needs to show respect. And honestly, he’s more like Kojak - able to find a parking space anywhere in LA. Doc choked on her shrimp fried rice while sitting in the passenger seat of his car, he patted her back to try and help the piece of shrimp go down, it eventually did. “You’re not bald Rockford. Are you starting to go bald? Is that why you think you’re like Kojack? ” Doc asked, "you going to start rocking three piece suits with a briefcase?” Tim’s face freezes and he squints his eyes.  “I will kick you out of my car and leave you at this restaurant Doc. Don’t joke about a man’s hair.” “You wouldn’t dare, Kojak would never. If you’re going to be mad about it, don’t compare yourself to a famous bald TV detective. Stick with Columbo Rockford.”

Side note: New chapter of “Weddings 101 with Dieter” will be out tomorrow. 🤗 I’m trying out a mood board. I’m getting with the times and all that jazz. 😆 I really do love that this series is equal parts ridiculous and heartfelt. 💕 I usually do several belly laughs while writing each chapter and I hope everyone gets some giggles out of them too. Dieter and Maya (OFC) are sweethearts. I promise @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

I may be working on a small interlude that explains Dieter’s and Oscar’s bad blood. 🩸🥸 Key words: pants, cheese, hair, paint, fingers, thong, numbers.

👀 Try and figure it out my friends. ☺️

NPT: @pedroshotwifey @morallyinept @for-a-longlongtime @sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @trulybetty @javierpena-inatacvest @javierpenaispunk @megamindsecretlair @saturn-rings-writes @boliv-jenta @lady-bess @alltheglitterandtheroar @tinytinymenace @sp00kymulderr @drawingdroid @pamasaur @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @gemmahale @soft-persephone @kewwrites @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @beefrobeefcal @perotovar @chronically-ghosted

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ january 2023

☆ STATISTICS.

words written: 10 029

projects worked on: Andromeda Rogue; The Gemini Heist; and a Third, Secret Thing :)

proudest accomplishment: uhhh i can't really thing of anything... i made it to 10k words for the month at the very last minute does that count

books read: Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty; Station Eternity by Mur Lafferty

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

as you may or may not have noticed i haven't really been active on writeblr lately. between work, the fact that it's january, and having to shovel through, like, 4 snow storms, i haven't really had the time or energy.

started the writing year super strong. hit a wall about halfway and have since been in a terrible slump for most of the month.

however it turns out that you can trick your brain into thinking it's experiencing New WIP Euphoria by digging up and revamping an old wip (i.e. the Third, Secret Thing).

book comments: both books i read were about murder in space. both were pretty good. both get a solid 4/5 stars.

(between that, watching Glass Onion, rewatching Murder She Wrote, and starting to watch Columbo, i think i'm on a bit of a murder kick lately.)

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: ANDROMEDA ROGUE (draft 2)

not much to say about this one tbh. while most of my words from this month came from this wip, i've,, mostly just been patching up little things like smoothing over inconsistent details and adding a little meat to description and exposition... but i've been procrastinating on fixing the Big Stuff 😭

i really like how the new version is turning out compared to the first version tho. it's so much cleaner & that's very satisfying.

if only i could just *clenches fist* get myself to actually fuckin work on it

☆ COMMENTS: THE GEMINI HEIST (outlining / draft 0.5 or something)

i finished part 1 of 7!... and now i have no idea what i'm doing.

i don't think i like fast drafting lol. i hate how shitty my quality of writing has been. and yeah whatever that's the point of a fast draft blablabla but like, when my draft is already a little bit readable i can go back and reread parts and be like "oh hey this isn't half bad". and i know people are always like "don't reread right away!!! just keep writing!!!!!!!" but for me rereading as i go is part of the process lmao. not only does it remind me of important things i would otherwise forget, it also encourages me to keep going when i see that what i've done isn't terrible.

and... with this fast draft everything just feels terrible.

not to mention i can't seem to untangle plot... heists are fuckin hard to plan. especially since there's multiple opposing parties with different plans that are all going to inevitably go to shit, and so i have to make more plans for when that happens. it feels so complicated uuuggghghhhgh

☆ COMMENTS: a Third, Secret Thing (???)

i'm not gonna talk about it too much publicly yet so i don't jinx whatever is going on here (and i want to make sure i'm a bit more committed to this thing before introducing anything) but all i'll say is it's an older wip that i've talked about on my old blog that i've dug out and changed the genre into a dark modern fantasy mystery with messy sapphics.

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

alright i know i said i didn't want to talk too much about the Third Secret Thing yet but i couldn't find any passages to share in either AR or GH... so have this, with very little context :') uhhh tw for mentions of death and murder.

That’s how she ended up peeking groggily out the door at the frigid winter morning, having hastily thrown a sweatshirt over her pyjamas and a towel over her hair, only to have two police officers inform her that Vanessa Villa-Cortez had been found dead in her apartment early that morning.

“D… dead?” Amina repeated, her mind in a haze. She had to still be asleep, right? Maybe the guilt over ignoring that text had seeped into her subconscious and was feeding her dreams. There was no way someone was at her door telling her that Vanessa, a girl she hadn’t heard from in nearly seven years, was… was—

“Killed in an apparent burglary gone wrong last night,” said one of the officers gravely. “A neighbour noticed the door had been clearly forced in, went inside to check, and found Miss Villa-Cortez’s body on the floor of her apartment.”

Amina’s head began to swim. She clutched the doorposts to keep her buckling knees from giving way completely beneath her. No. No. Vanessa couldn’t be dead. Amina still had to answer her text.

if you know you know ;)

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

genera taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

andromeda trilogy taglist:

@bebewrites @nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @akindofmagictoo @quilloftheclouds @nora-theteawriter @ashen-crest @corpsepng @writeblrfantasy @chaylattes @toboldlywrite @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @cheerfulmelancholies @extra-magichours @writeouswriter @cilly-the-writer @lefttigerobservation @rose-bookblood @drowsy-quill @chazzawrites @cynic-and-chief @enchanted-lightning-aes @aesa

gemini heist taglist:

@florraisons @akindofmagictoo @cream-and-tea @nicola-writes @memento-morri-writes @antique-symbolism @rose-bookblood @afoolandathief @pepperdee @avi-why @zonnemaagd @chazzawrites @analogued @enchanted-lightning-aes @innocentlymacabre @kahvilahuhut @celestepens @cilly-the-writer @extra-magichours @retrogayyde

[thedragonofbadasstemple]

A little late but was tagged by @klutenpetter to do a thing! It supposed to be 9 each of like games, TV, movies, etc that you enjoyed for the first time in 2023, but like him I'm just gonna do nine piece of media overall. I'll do my layout of pictures, showcasing each one via the character(s) that were my favorite from each piece of media, and in the order in which I saw them (approximately).

Buddy Daddies, Jan 2023. Super cute original anime. Really enjoyed the QPR thing the MCs had going on. You don't get a lot of found family media like that.

Golden Kamuy, March 2023. I was sick with the flu and binge read the entire series in like a week. LOVED IN. Filled with beefy studs and its a fun ride from start to end!

Psycho Pass, May 2023. I got into cyberpunk recently and gave this a whirl. Really enjoyed the first season, not so much everything that came after tho LOL.

Komi-San, June 2023. I'll be real, I never would have picked this for myself to watch, be me and boys have been watching stuff together and this was a pick from one of them. My first impression was this was just another dumb waifu bait show, but honestly its super cute and super funny. I enjoyed it a lot and can't wait for season 3!

Yakuza Kiwami, June 2023. I started Yakuza Zero, got halfway through and then stopped in 2022, and finally finshed Zero and got through Kiwami last year. I enjoyed it way more than Zero. I really enjoy Kiryu as a character and hope to start the next game soon!

Undead Girl Murder Farce, July 2023. A seasonal anime I picked up and enjoyed greatly. I think its a fun use of public domain characters and the OCs were delightful. I hope we get another season! It was a real sleeper hit for the season I think.

Columbo, August 2023. Yeah, I watched my first episode of Columbo because of a mystery kick UGMF put me on. The first episode I watched naturally was the first episode. I watched another episode on Christmas. I really enjoy this character, I wish I had more free time for this.

Slay the Princess, November 2023. An indie game I've had my eye on for a while because of ManlyBadassHero. The full thing came out and I really enjoyed it! I highly recommend it if you like spooky and romantic things.

Good Will Hunting, December 2023. Its a classic movie, and its been meme'd to death, and yet I've never watched it before now (Its not [my] fault). On my flight to Spain the plane had tablets built in for every seat where we could watch movies and stuff so I took that opportunity to watch a bunch of films I had never seen before (others were Top Gun, John Wick, and Elemental (which I saw in 2024 but otherwise I enjoyed it the most, a morbid curiosity/hate-watch that I loved unironically). I also got halfway through Mission: Impossible but ran out of time.) I'd recommend giving this a go if you haven't seen it. Its a classic for a reason and might give you dark academia peeps a good time LOL.

For this I'm tagging @solanum-iycopersicum, @netnettart, @shinladyanarki, and @the-jar-of-dirt.