#columbo wants his photo

[columboscreens]

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twelve of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 9.1K (I got really carried away)

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+ just in case. References to sex, Implied Sex, Heavy Making Out (not really explicit, but also not real un-detailed…), Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soft Soldier Boy, Angst, Fluff.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

A/N: The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

1984

You take a sip of wine, leaning over your coffee table to pull another photo from the Rosewood box perched on the edge. It's your birthday, your 65th birthday to be exact, of course one look in the mirror revealed that you barely looked over 30. To some women that might be a welcome thought, but given your current situation it wasn't.

It marked the fourth year since you told Ben that you were unhappy on Payback and as a supe, told him that you wanted a normal life, and four years after you'd let him talk you into staying. But this was the year. You were going to tell him that you were done, that you were moving on and getting out.

Unfortunately the only person you had to convince about letting go was yourself, because leaving meant giving up Ben. And you weren't sure that was something you could do.  You were having a hard time convincing your heart to let go of him or rather the old version of him, that only made it's appearance when it was the two of you. The memories that tied you to Ben were tight and difficult to unravel. You couldn't imagine your life without him, couldn’t see past this moment in your life.

But that's why you had to go. You knew you were in too deep. Fantasizing about a  relationship with someone who would never love you the same way you loved them, hoping in something that would never happen. And you needed to let him go, whether it be the new version of him or the boy you used to know, you needed to let Ben go.

The Rosewood box was filled with photos, old doodles, memories, and objects from your past. Usually it was stored under your bed, but tonight you had dragged it out into the living room to reminisce on your birthday. It was a tradition you started a few years ago as a way of remembering the past. Sometimes it was a welcome distraction from the way things were now and tonight you were letting it be a last supper of sorts, to indulge in the memories Ben and you had shared over the years before you told him that you were leaving.

You had no idea where you were going, but the thought excited you a little bit. Finally striking out on your own for the first time, doing something for yourself for once, it felt right.

Leaving Ben was the only thing that felt wrong. You wanted him to come with you, for him to choose you the way that you chose him that night, but you knew he wouldn't. He liked this life too much to let it go, he thrived in the spotlight, embraced everything about being a supe that you hated, and so you would let him go.

You look down at the strip of paper in your hand. It was a collection of photos from a photo booth, yellowed with age, but lined up one by one from the first baseball game Ben ever took you to, one of your favorite memories from your childhood. You were wearing the ridiculous pinstriped hat and Ben looked as handsome as he always did, smiling wide with his dark hair hanging in his face. It was hard to look at it now, hard to look at Ben and you when you were so young, and you didn't know where your lives were going to go.

Your eyes drift to the velvet case pressed into the corner of the wooden box. You had kept the ring that Howard got you, well, technically you had tried to give it back but he refused, begging you to reconsider.

Sometimes you thought about throwing it away. It was ugly, but it was a reminder. Not a reminder of Howard, you could barely remember what he looked like, but it was a reminder of the night Ben asked you to come with him. You could remember the earnest look in his eyes, how he cupped your face, and the promise he made to you. The future he promised had been filled with so much possibility, but you weren’t sure anymore. You think about the years you'd spent together and how leaving felt like the end of an era.

But it was necessary, breaking away from all of this would be good. Yes you would miss Ben, but you needed to move on. You knew that deep down. Because you wanted something more than all of this, and the night Ben asked you to come with him you thought he could give it to you, but after all these years you understood that he couldn’t and that he didn’t want to.

Someone knocks loudly on your door.

“One second.” You take the last sip of wine before standing and crossing the room to open the door. “Hey what are you doing here?”

Ben is standing in the hallway outside your apartment, looking handsome as always. He's wearing a tailored dark suit with a black tie, his hair is combed back from his face, dark stubble graces his rugged jaw and a wide smile pulls up at the ends of his lips that makes it very hard to focus on anything else. “Happy Birthday Sweetheart.” 

“I’ve had too many birthdays.” You laugh and wave a hand to brush it off. “What are you doing here, I thought you had an interview about the premiere tomorrow?”

Tomorrow night was the premiere of the third and final installment of Anti-Communist films that Ben was currently staring in. The first two had been utterly ridiculous and you knew that the one tomorrow would be just as pointless. Which you knew for a fact, because one day Ben asked you to meet him on set and you saw a scene he was filming, not to mention one time he tried to get you to run lines with him and you told him you'd rather drop dead than read Countess' lines, who took the co-star role when you refused. Ben’s offer of the co-starring role to you had been his way of appeasing you after you told him you were unhappy. When you refused, Countess had been more than willing to slide into it.  Who was still trying her upmost to get into Ben's pants, but he still completely ignored her, which gave you an unmeasurable amount of joy.

“I told them that I couldn’t miss my girl's birthday.” Ben smiles wider. “Plus I’d much rather spend tonight with you than those fucking vultures and I’ve never missed your birthday.”

Instead of the words "my girl" filling you with happiness as they had the first night Ben said it in the dancehall, they only make you frustrated. He had called you that several times over the years you'd been friends and each time it made you more and more angry. You were tired of it. Tired of Ben acting like Ben only when it was the two of you. Tired of Ben acting like he cared and like he wanted to be more than friends only to crush you the next day. Tired that he called you “my girl” and then did nothing that meant more than friends.  You loved him more than you’d loved anyone ever, took care of him, did everything you could for him, and each time when he didn’t acknowledge it, you felt like you weren’t enough. It made you feel like a kid again when you tried your upmost to please your mother only to have her be disappointed in you each time.

“That’s sweet.” Anger and frustration burns in the back of your throat, but you push it down with a tight lipped smile.

“And I got us reservations, so go get dressed.”

"What?"

"I got reservations. Come on." Ben makes a gesture with his hand.

“Oh I’m okay, I was just going to-“ You motion back at the bottle of wine, the couch, and the box of photos.

“No. I’m not going to let you sit here on your birthday. Come on. Let’s go.” Ben takes your arm and turns you around gently pushing you towards the small hallway that leads back to your bedroom with his hand on the small of your back.

You brace yourself for the warmth that follows with the brush of his fingers against you, but each time you're unprepared for how it makes you feel when he touches you.

“But I don’t have anything to wear! And if you do have a reservation, how much time do I have?” You argue, trying to come up with an excuse to avoid dinner.

As much as you wanted to go, you didn't want to sit there and pretend to be happy. You were tired of doing that, but then you raise your head to look Ben in the eye.

He's smiling down at you the same way he always has, looking like the boy who climbed in your window after flunking out of boarding school to bring you paint and your resolve wavers. You hated saying no to him.

Damn it.

“By the time you stop making excuses it will be time to go. And as sexy as those pajamas are, you can’t wear them to a restaurant.” Ben teases, tugging on the bottom oversized paint-splattered shirt you were wearing

“Fine.” You grumble, cheeks flushing bright red as you snatch the shirt from his hand. “Give me ten minutes.”

"Shut up." Ben laughs from across the table at you. "Your mother loved me!"

His laughter is contagious, making your own release from your lips and ease the tension you are holding in your chest.

The Italian restaurant is small and filled with the soft lit of music from the band in the corner, the rich aromatic smell of food, and has the calming atmosphere of a intimate bar. When Ben parked out front, you were surprised. He usually liked the restaurants on page 6 where other heroes would be found eating and places where he could be photographed for the news, but this place was different, it was almost, special. And the way Ben was acting was unusual.

He'd walked around the car after he parked and took your hand in his, to lead you down the steps to the front door where a hostess had asked for his name. Ben had used his real name rather than Soldier Boy for a reservation and when you walked out of your bedroom wearing the dress you found at the back of your closet that you had for emergencies, you swore you saw his eyes darken as they trailed across your body making your breath catch in your chest. It was odd. Ben had taken you out for your birthday before, but tonight seemed to be filled with a palpable tension and electricity that you couldn’t place.

Then again, you were probably imagining it like always.

The restaurant was perfect, it made you forget about being a supe and the glamorous lifestyle that Ben indulged in and allowed you to pretend that you were normal. However, while you sat there together, you tried not to think about what you were going to have to tell him eventually, that you were leaving. He would ask for an answer why and you’d try to tell him the same thing you told him four years ago while avoiding screaming “because I love you, you fucking idiot” at the top of your lungs. 

But it was difficult to find a way to tell him, not when he had a soft smile on his face and every few minutes Ben would find some reason to touch you. So you allowed yourself to indulge in this, to have this last wonderful memory together before you have to tell him. And in doing so, you let yourself forget being a supe, forget everything else but Ben and you in this moment.

"Oh sure, you were her favorite." You snort into your wineglass. "She put a crucifix up over my window to keep you out. Every time you went to a new boarding school, she prayed in the living room with a rosary to God begging him to keep you far from me and she cried whenever you came back. Not to mention when you got me thrown out of boarding school she forbade me from seeing you-"

"But you couldn’t stay away." Ben sing-songs with a grin before taking a sip from his glass. "And your roommate was a fucking snitch."

"She was." You smile down at the table. "I also think she was a little jealous." You lean back in your chair, holding the wineglass in your right hand.

"Oh and why is that?" Ben's smirk widens.

"Don't make me say it-" Your eyes roll.

"Oh I want to hear you admit it." He leans towards you across the table, eyes shining with a mischievous glint that makes it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Not going to happen.”  You look around the room to distract yourself with the other couples.

All the tables around you were full of people sharing stories, holding hands, brushing feet under the table and for the first time you weren't jealous of their love. The couple next to you was practically breathing the same air, leaning towards each other with sappy looks in their eyes. You were happy for them, allowed yourself to be filled with compassion at their happiness. You remember what you said to Ben four years ago, about wanting to have someone to come home to, someone who loved you and then remember the night at the dancehall watching the elderly couple dance under the twinkling lights holding each other close and gazing deeply into one another's eyes.

You wanted someone to look at you like that, wanted someone to share you life with. You wanted that so badly, that in this moment you knew that you were making the right decision leaving because you would be closer to getting it, because the man across the table from you might be your best friend and have your heart, but he didn’t want to be more. And as much as it hurt to leave the only man you’d ever loved,  you knew it was the right thing.

Ben taps his index finger on your left hand where it rests on the table between you, drawing your eyes back to his. "Did I lose you Doll?"

"Hmm? No sorry. I was-" You smile at him. "Distracted. What were you asking?"

Ben's gaze shifts to the couple sitting to your right, the one you were watching a second ago, who are holding hands on top of the table. The man says something that makes his date laugh and lean towards him to grasp his other hand. The way he smiles at his date makes you smile. Ben's eyes slide back to yours and an odd look flashes through them that you can't identify.

"You know what I was asking." His index finger begins to brush over your knuckles in a smooth circular motion. Warmth trails with his touch, sending goosebumps dancing up your left arm.

Shock buzzes at the back of your mind, you didn't understand why he was doing that, Ben had barely had anything to drink tonight, in fact that was his first and only Whiskey. Not to mention when he showed up at your door he seemed more sober than usual. He didn't smell like reefer. So for him to touch you this much was unusual, especially when he wasn't drunk or high.

“Come on Sweetheart.” He smiles at you in a way that makes your heart ache.

"Fine. Pearl thought you were devilishly handsome and was upset that I danced with you when I had Howard-"

"Don't mention that pussy." Ben’s smirk drops into a frown and he stops moving his finger against the back of your hand.

"I don't understand why you were so jealous of him." You try not to think about how much you wish he would start moving his finger again.

"I was not jealous of that idiot." Ben rolls his eyes.

"Uh-huh. After all these years, you still can't admit it." You tease him taking another sip of wine. It was giving you a pleasant buzz that made you feel just a little bit warm and bold enough to make you brush your thumb against his where his hand sits only a few millimeters from yours.

If he was touching you, you thought that maybe it would be okay for you to touch him, maybe it was okay to pretend that he wanted to hold your hand as much as you wanted to hold his, like the couple next to you were.

"I will if you admit you were jealous of Missy Callahan." Ben's eyes trail down to your thumb before looking back up at you, waiting for your answer.

"I was not-"

Ben raises an eyebrow. “I can hear your heartbeat Doll.”

“Just as I can hear yours Darling.” You smile back at him.

“Y/n.” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculous smile. "Fine, I will admit that was a little jealous of her, but she was awful.  She was dumb as a rock and she was the most terrible gossip-"

"I knew it." Ben smirks.

You sit there in silence for a minute gazing at Ben, your eyebrow raised. "I'm waiting."

"Oh I'm not going to admit that I was jealous of Howard. I just wanted to hear you say the thing about Missy." Ben laughs, beginning to run his index finger against the back of your hand again. His eyes on yours, as if he's gauging your reaction.

"Bastard." You roll your eyes at him. "Did I tell you that I saw Howard?"

"What?" Ben looks surprised.

"Yeah, when I went to my brother's-" You clear your throat remembering when you saw Howard four years ago. You don’t know why he went to your brother’s funeral, but he was there, gray hair slicked back staring at you open mouthed. The last time you'd seen him was the day after he proposed, when you tried to give him back the ring and he refused, stating that he wanted you to keep it, to think about it. He never got over the break up, never dating anyone else, never married. It had been an awkward reunion, especially since he kept trying to corner you, but you evaded him expertly through the crowd. You weren't interested in making awkward small-talk about the past forty years.

Ben's hand finally slips into yours, intwining your fingers together because he understands what you’re about to say. "I'm sorry I didn't go with you, I should have."

It was weird that Ben wasn’t with you, but it was also weird because you tried to comfort your sister in law and her son and his family, but it felt forced. Ben was the only person who understood what it was like for everyone to age around you while you stayed the same. Standing there to celebrate the life of your brother while you, yourself couldn't die completely or even age felt awkward. You found yourself longing for Ben when you were away, wishing that he was there to hold your hand or try to deflect some of the awkward conversations, none of which were focused on your brother and were all about you being a supe. You hated how much you depended on him.

After the funeral you had stayed in Philadelphia an extra week to help your family and when Ben called to see how you were you broke down on the phone. Ben had showed up within the next hour at your hotel and sat with you while you cried. It was one of your favorite memories, because Ben held you gently against him, whispering "It's okay Sweetheart, I've got you" while you pressed your face into his shirt, letting the smell of whiskey and his cologne soak into your skin. It was so unlike him and it made you believe that Ben wanted more, but then he never acknowledged it, like always.

"Ben it's okay, you were there when it mattered. And you went to both of my parent's funerals. Surprising because my mother would have hated that you were there. Always said you were going to ruin my life." You meant for it to be a joke, but the look in Ben's eyes shifts to something more vulnerable for a millisecond before it hardens again.

"Did I?" He asks quietly. Ben looks down at where he was holding your hand, his thumb beginning to move over the smooth skin on the back.

The question catches you off guard. It was the very question that you had been considering the past few days before you finally decided to leave all of this and your best friend. But the truth was you didn't believe that Ben ruined your life, you blamed yourself, blamed yourself for loving your best friend, blamed yourself for loving someone who didn’t love you the same way.

And it wasn’t that you hated your life, it was different than what you would have planned for yourself, but you liked parts of it. Not to mention you would have hated it more if you had said no to Ben and married Howard. If anything, Ben had saved you and you were thankful for that.

Of course the way he's looking at you and holding your hand is making it difficult for you to consider leaving. It seemed like every time you tried, Ben would do something like this- take you out to dinner or act like he wanted you and only you, and then you would reconsider. Four years ago it had been him holding you after your brother’s funeral and now it was this.

"Ben." You sigh, squeezing his hand and putting as much love into your gaze as you can. "No. You didn't. If anything you freed me. I didn't want to be with Howard and I was too afraid to say it until you asked me to come with you.”

“He could have given you a life though. You said that’s what you wanted.” For a second you think you see Ben’s eyes flick to the couple on your right with his words.

Your mind stutters to a halt in surprise. He remembered what we talked about four years ago? After he almost killed Noir?

“Um-" You clear your throat to recover. "And if you remember that conversation, you should also remember I said I didn’t want that life with Howard.”

“Yes, but you said you wanted to marry someone.” The ends of his lip twitches, but he doesn’t smile. “Still waiting on that wedding invite.” His thumb is stroking long smooth patterns on the back of your hand, making your throat tight and making it impossible to think.

“I’m sure you’ll get it any day now. Legend is happy that I finally said yes.”

“I should have known. Y’all looked pretty cozy at that party two weeks ago.” Ben laughs. “So if you’re engaged to him, does that mean you don’t want your birthday present?”

“I’ve said it once and I’ve said it again, I’m too old for birthdays.”

“Then why did you come out with me?”

“Oh I’m just going to write this off as old friends having dinner. That or a kidnapping. You practically dragged me to the car.”

“Be thankful I let you change.” Ben replies.

“I don’t know, I think I would have really made a statement with my paint splattered shirt and sweatpants."

You’d chosen the dress you were wearing at random. It was a dark green, the same color as Ben’s supe suit, off your right shoulder cinched around your waist and fell elegantly to your ankles. It was one of your favorites, something you believed accentuated your body effortlessly.

"They were something. Though I think that you-" Ben pauses, dropping his eyes to where he's still holding your hand, before looking back up at you. "Um-"

"What?" You smile.

He clears his throat, a soft smile on his face. "I think you look beautiful now too."

Your next words dry up in your mouth, there's not a shred of joking or teasing in Ben's eyes. Ben had said it before, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes, but now there is only sincerity. And it makes your heart jolt out of rhythm.

He said too. That means that he thought I looked beautiful before when I was-

"Thank you." You flush red and squeeze his hand. "I don't think you look too bad yourself, you know, for a old man." You add that last part because you don’t know what to say when he's looking at you like that.

Ben's smile slips into a frown. "You should be nicer to me, I got you a birthday present."

“See, you keep saying that, but I haven’t seen it.”

“I thought you didn’t want it.” The mischievous glint is back in his eye.

“I could be persuaded.” You smirk.

Ben releases your hand and reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a long navy blue velvet box wrapped in a thick silver bow before sliding it across the white tablecloth.

“You get me another paintbrush?” You smirk running a fingertip over the velvet top to examine it while acutely missing the feeling of his hand grasped in yours.

“Something like that.”

“Did you steal it?” You pick up the box and wave it for emphasis, remembering all the times Ben stole little things from the stores that lined Downtown Philadelphia and the box he had hidden under his bed filled with random trinkets.

You never understood why he did that. Ben's family was almost as wealthy as yours and although his father didn't approve of anything Ben was doing, he never cut him off.

“Maybe.” He shrugs and leans on the table towards you, his eyes filled with excitement.

“With how much money they pay you for those ridiculous films you shouldn’t be stealing anything.”

“I’m sure if you sold your artwork instead of shoving it in the closet you’d be just as wealthy as me.”

“Yes, but my grand plan is to have you pay for everything so I can continue to use you and I can’t do that if I’m rich."

“You can use me anytime sweetheart.” Ben winks.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes at him, but can't stop the blush that stains your cheeks at his insinuation.

Everything about tonight felt just like old times, the way he joked with you and the way you couldn't stop smiling, but at the same time, something else nagged at the back of your mind. The handholding was new, as were the compliments and deeper conversation, especially because Ben wasn't drunk or high, and yet he was being gentler than usual, almost soft. And that was something Ben never was, at least not in public.

You tried not to be frustrated with the turn of events and just enjoy the moment, but deep down you wanted to know.

Was Ben doing this because he cared? Or was he doing this because he sensed I was unhappy and that I was leaving and he thought this was the only way to keep me around?

“Come on, open it.”

“Fine.” You smile down at the box and slowly slide off the bow. “Please tell me you have photos of you trying to tie this bow. Preferably while you were wearing your supe suit.”

“I already destroyed the evidence.”

 “Figures.” You sigh. “Would have been a nice birthday present.”

“I think this is better, but given the pace you’re going at I’ll still be sitting here waiting for you to open it at your next birthday.” Ben takes a drink from his glass.

“Which I won’t be celebrating.”

"Oh you're going to. I’ll make sure.” 

You roll your eyes at him, before finally opening the velvet box and your next joke is forgotten as you struggle to catch your breath. You were expecting something art related. Ben always got you brushes, paints, colored pencils, and any other art supply-like gift, because he knew that you liked those things but not tonight. Because for your 65th birthday Ben decided to get you something that took your breath away.

Nestled in black velvet is a pearl necklace, elegant, beautiful, catching in the fluttering warm light of the restaurant as the band in the corner continues to play a jazzy tune that makes you remember the records your father would listen to while he smoked before bedtime.

“Ben-“ You begin to say, but you can’t finish your sentence, you're too surprised to say anything else.

Not once in all the years you’d been friends had Ben bought you jewelry. Shopping for his birthday was harder, his last one you had gotten him a pair of silver cufflinks that he was currently wearing, but each time you bought him something like that it didn't feel like you were revealing too much about how you felt and it never felt like a gift you would give someone who was more than your friend. But now, staring down at the necklace that Ben bought you feels, intimate almost romantic.

“I remembered how upset you were when you lost the one your dad got you.” Ben says slowly, his eyes on you. “I know it’s not the same one, but the lady in the store said it was the most like the ones they made when we were younger and I thought-“ He rubs the back of his neck. “Um- I thought you’d like it.”

You smile, still unable to speak, fighting the happy tears that build behind your eyes. You had lost the necklace your father got you a few months ago and you tore your entire apartment apart to find it. Ben had walked right into the middle of the chaos and found you a sobbing mess.

Your father had bought it for you on your 23rd birthday. It was your first birthday as a supe and your first one away from home. Your father had it delivered to you with a vase of fresh cut lavender, because you couldn’t go home and he couldn’t get away.  It was one of the last things you had from him, besides the antique watch perched on your wrist.

“I can’t believe you remembered that.” You swallow the ball of emotion lodged in your throat.

“I do listen to you.”

You look up and raise an eyebrow.

“Sometimes.” His soft smile makes you feel light headed and makes you wish all over again that you had the courage to tell Ben the three little words that you'd always wanted to.

“I don’t know what to say-“

“Too much? Because I can take it back and buy you a paintbrush-“ Ben starts to reach for the box, but you catch his hand against the table tangling your fingertips together.

“No. It's perfect. Thank you Ben.”

He looks relieved by your answer. “You’re welcome.”

The soft sounds of conversation swell around you mixing with the tinkling of utensils against plates and the music that pours from the band in the corner where a singer dressed in a long red sequined gown sings a familiar song. But you can't stop admiring the necklace nestled in the fabric, your hand still clasped in Ben's on top of the table.

Ben finally breaks the silence. “Do you want me to help you put it on?”

You blink for a minute to comprehend what he was asking, raising your eyes to his genuine smile. "Please.”

Ben stands from his chair and comes around behind you as you gently twist your hair out of the way, so he has access to your neck. His rough fingertips brush against the smooth skin of your neck sending a shiver down your spine that you hope Ben misses because how would you explain that? When he secures it at the back of your neck you look down at the pearls, holding them between your thumb and forefinger.

"They're beautiful." You whisper, before looking back up at him.

"Yes, beautiful." He responds, but Ben isn't looking at your necklace, his eyes are locked on your face.

What is going on?

"Ben-" You begin to say, attempting for the first time to ask him why he does this, acts different around you, gives you hope and then takes it all away, but he interrupts you.

"Come on." His hand falls on yours and he pulls you up out of your chair, weaving through the other tables to stand in front of the band in the corner. His right hand finds the small of your back, while his left gently holds your right in the air.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ben smiles. "We're dancing."

"No one else is dancing." You look around the room at the couples sitting quietly together enjoying their meals, who have begun to watch Ben and you sway to the music.

He leans forward to whisper into the curve of your ear. "Then let's show them how it's done Sweetheart."

You can't help but laugh at him, enjoying the way that he feels pressed against you, how it makes you feel alive in the best way, how you feel safe in his arms. Being here, swaying to the last few notes of the song with him made you reconsider leaving again. Ben was the only person who knew you completely, inside and out, the only person who seemed to understand you. Choosing to leave him would be like choosing to leave home, because after everything you'd been through, Ben was home.

As soon as the song ends, the one that follows is familiar, a tune that sparks a memory at the back of your mind. You raise your eyes to Ben's. His are crinkled with his smile, a mischievous glint behind them.

"Ben, did you tell them to play-"

"Yeah. I told them to play our song." He whispers, holding you tighter against him.

The memory of the night you first danced warms against your skin. You remembered it well. It was the night that you almost told him you loved him, the same thing you were considering right now. You couldn't believe that he remembered the song you danced to. You smile at the memory of that night, when Ben punched Howard in the face and it gave you a sickening amount of joy.

“What are you smiling at?” Ben asks you.

“I still can’t believe you hit him.” You shake your head with a laugh.

"He hurt you. And I didn't like that he made me stop dancing with my girl."

You sigh before you can stop yourself the phrase immediately making the laughter dissipate and making the warm feeling at his touch fade. Tonight Ben was again making you think that he wanted to be more, and worst of all it was making it harder to leave. Because what if this was him trying to tell you the only way he knew how? What if this was him finally admitting that he loved you and you just left?

"What?” He frowns down at you.

“I don’t know why you keep calling me that.”

"What?"

"Your 'girl'." You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the frustration from making you say more.

 “You don't think you are?"

“What do you think it means? To me it means being in a relationship with someone. We have been friends for over fifty years and you have never once said that you wanted to be more-"

"I did try to propose.” Ben jokes, not understanding that you’re upset.

"Really? That was your proposal?" You scoff rolling your eyes. "A joke while you were sitting on my shitty couch drunk off your ass while trying to apologize for almost killing Noir and telling me that you hate when I get in your way?  Forgive me for imagining some big gesture and for not swooning."

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Oh please-“

“I’m fucking serious.” He shrugs.

“What?” You look him in the eye to look for the teasing glint, but it's not there, Ben looks serious.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.” Ben’s eyes lock with yours. “I also didn’t apologize for almost killing him. And I do hate when you get in my way." 

"Yes, I figured that given how angry you looked." You roll your eyes, glancing to look at the couples around you again, but this time the happiness you felt for them is gone. The jealousy is back coupled with the frustration of Ben acting like Ben and then pulling a complete 180 the next day and making you question everything. Because you wanted to exist in the moments that he was still Ben and you didn’t want to leave him, but you did want to leave Soldier Boy. The problem was right now all you saw was Ben and you hated that you couldn’t enjoy it because you knew it would end. Someone would piss him off or he’d get drunk or high or go down the rabbit hole with some other woman and Ben would be gone.

You didn’t understand how he could go from hot to cold so quickly.

“But I didn’t lie when I said I’d never hurt you.” Ben's voice rumbles up through where his chest is pressed against yours.

You want to say that you believe him, but after the past forty years you weren’t sure anymore. And that thought hurt more than anything else. You didn’t know your best friend anymore, and it scared you.

Your eyes are leveled on Ben’s chest, by now he’s stopped swaying you to the music. You know what will happen when you look up into his eyes, he'll make a joke or say something like the last forty years never happened and you'll crumble like always. You can feel his breath against your face, the warmth of his body transferring through his chest and soaking into yours.

“Y/n, please look at me.” He releases your hand and cups your cheek to tilt you head upwards to him. The one still planted on your back slides down to your waist, tightening around you as you lock eyes with him. “You know that I’d never hurt you. Right?”

Ben's eyes lock on yours, the love and care reflected in the irises makes your body burn. He's never looked at you like that, looked at you like you were the only woman in the world and deep down it makes you want to pull him close and whisper the three little words you've wanted to say for fifty seven years.

You focus on Ben's words to shake it off, it was the same thing he’d said four years ago, but this time the air between you is charged with electricity.

And you can’t take it anymore.

“Why?” You whisper.

It catches him off guard. “What?”

“Why are you different with me? When the cameras stop rolling, when the team goes home, when it’s just the two of us, you’re different." You stop to catch your breath.  "Ben, I’ve known you for fifty seven years. And in the last forty you’ve changed. But not around me, not when it’s just the two of us. You show up at my apartment in the middle of the night, we talk, we laugh about the past, you sleep in my bed, you call me 'your girl'-”

“You’ve known me longer than anyone else-” His hand is still cupping your cheek now, thumb gently brushing against the smooth skin making your throat tight.

“But even before all this, when we were still in Philadelphia. You were always around me, showing up, taking me out to do things in the city. Ben, we both know how you are. I watched you chase after whatever caught your eye and even now-“ You shake your head frustrated. “But you never act that way with me.”

Ben is quiet for a minute, his eyes searching yours, soft green in the fluttering lights above your heads. “Because you’re different y/n. You’ve always been different.”

“But that doesn’t tell me why Ben. We’ve been doing this for so long and I want-“ You sigh frustrated with yourself because you can’t say it, can’t say that you want him. “I mean I’m not sure if I can-“ You were going to say that you weren’t sure you could do this anymore, that you wished he would let you go, wished that you could walk away, and wished that he would stop giving you hope that the two of you could be something more because you couldn’t do it.

But the words are stopped when his lips meet yours.

You inhale sharply in surprise, before your entire body melts against his, deepening the kiss as you drag your hands up into his dark hair, while your mind goes blissfully blank. Ben’s mouth is firm but tender against yours, moving in a slow dance that makes warm tingles trail down your spine. The hand that was on your cheek, joins the other on your waist. His hand tightens on your hip as your song continues to play while the other presses against the small of your back to secure you against him. The solidness of his chest is familiar, molding against your curves in the best way as if he was made for you and you were made for him. You feel his thumb begin to circle slowly against the fabric on your hipbone and suddenly you remember the night he helped you loosen your corset and all you wanted was him. You never thought it would feel like this.

When you finally pull away for air, Ben doesn’t let you go far, he leans his forehead against yours, the look in his eyes is surprisingly vulnerable, as if he thinks you’re going to push him away.

“I-“ He begins, his green eyes are wide almost afraid.

Why?

You raise your hands to gently cup his strong jaw, searching his eyes with a smile to confirm you aren't going anywhere, before pulling him back to you for another kiss that makes your toes curl in the tight shoes you forced them into an hour ago. Ben sighs into your mouth, a soft sound that surprises you. You had seen him kiss other people before. Ben was anything but gentle, but now you believed that he reserved that gentleness just for you and it made you feel like you were going to melt into a puddle.

When you pull back again, Ben’s forehead is still against yours, his eyes bright and unmoving from your face. For a moment neither of you speaks, too afraid to break the silence.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours Sweetheart?” Ben asks, the deep rumble of his voice working up through where your chest is pressed against his. His expression is gentle, and he brings up one of the hands that was on your waist to trace the pillow of your lips with his thumb.

And before you lose your nerve your smile curves into a smirk.  “Took you long enough Benjamin.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes at you.

“Make me.” You mutter against his thumb.

And then he’s kissing you again, moving his lips in tandem with yours while your heart flutters and dances. And you never want it to end, because he's kissing you like he never wants to let you go and you're kissing him like you don't want him to.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Ben mutters against your lips with a smile, his deep eyes catching yours. "Don't be jealous of Missy Callahan. She's nothing compared to you, never has been, never will be."

Your heart warms, cheeks blushing with his words, because even after all these years, Ben still knew exactly what to say. You hold his face reverently, admiring the familiar dips and curves, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "Don't be jealous of Howard. He meant nothing to me. No one means as much to me as you do Ben."  You whisper back before you kiss him and allow yourself to fall again, hoping that this time he’ll catch you.

“Did you want something to drink?” You ask Ben, gesturing with your free hand towards the kitchen.

Standing in your apartment feels different post kiss. It feels like this all represents something bigger now. The apartment, him coming upstairs even though he has spent most of the nights here since you bought it and of course the way he’s looking at you, how he’s been unable to stop looking at you since he kissed you.

“Are you going to get it for me?” Ben is still holding your hand, had held it the entire car ride, only releasing it when he got out to open the door for you and then took it again as you walked up to your apartment. His thumb is moving across the back in a soothing motion that makes you want to curl up in the warmth that trails behind like a cat in the sun.

“I’m sure you remember where it is”

“Mhmm.” Ben is eyeing you again, the green in his eyes darkening in a way that makes your throat tight.

You’re not sure who moves first, all you know is that someone closes the distance between you, and you lose yourself in him. Your curves melt against the hard muscles of Ben’s chest and arms as he pulls you into him, his hands  gripping your waist so tight that you know there might be bruises but you don’t care.

Your hands trail up his muscular chest to tangle in his hair, pulling at the darkened strands and forcing his mouth harder against yours.

He tastes like whiskey and smoke, night and day, and all those bittersweet moments you’ve shared over the years you’ve known him. There is no semblance of Soldier Boy left behind, it’s just Ben and you and it's everything you wanted for so long. The kiss is charged with so much emotion and tension you feel something inside you snap and warmth floods your body in its wake. Ben moans into your mouth, his hands coming down to sweep low over your curves and ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt before.

There had been others try to do exactly this. Other heroes you politely declined because you didn’t feel anything for them. You remember the kisses with Howard, passionless, boring, but being here with Ben was like nothing you’d ever imagined. The subtle scratch of his scruff against your cheeks makes you lose all feeling in your legs, his strong embrace makes goosebumps burn against your skin, and the sounds he’s making against your lips makes your heart seize in your chest.

He backs you up and you both fall on the couch in a tangle of limbs, his body caging you beneath him while his fingertips boldly trail against your body, finding places that make you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his smirk against your lips and you’ve never felt more sexy in your life. Ben’s moans against every piece of skin he can get his lips against make you blush crimson and echo his cries with soft sounds that make him grip you tighter. His hands are everywhere, coaxing along your curves, discovering places that you didn’t know could be sensitive and that make you gasp and arch against him as he continues to kiss you.

Everything about this feels right, feels perfect, as if you were both made for this exact moment. The subtle drag of his hands against you, the firm assertive way he holds you beneath him, how your body responds to his touch, and the way your heart continues to swell in your chest, frantically beating as if it wishes to break free. You forget about all the other women he's ever been with, all the others he's probably held close, nothing else exists at this moment, nothing else exists except him and you here on this couch. His lips ghost to your neck as he sucks a mark into the column of your throat and you realize he's saying your name over and over the way that no one ever has.

There’s a loud ripping noise and you understand that Ben ripped off the bottom half of your dress, the tattered remains just barely brushing against your thighs. But you can’t be angry with him for that, not when everything he’s doing feels perfect.

Ben’s hands slowly begin to push up the bottom of your now ruined dress and you come back down from your high, feeling the gentle press of his fingers against your thigh as they begin to move upwards.

“Ben-" You breathe.

You hate how breathy your voice sounds, but the new sensations running through your body are almost too overwhelming for you to gain control of. If you weren't both as indestructible as you were you would be afraid of the possibility of killing Ben.

He moans into your neck, working his hand up further to a place that makes your grip his shoulders tight and you leave bruises of your own, because you’re the only person strong enough to bruise him, to leave marks against his almost invulnerable skin. And it makes a shudder go down his spine.

"Ben wait-"

He stops, looking down at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated in a way that almost sends you back into a frenzy with him. "What's wrong?" He is also out of breath, chest rising and falling fast. You can hear his heart beat thundering in his chest, beating in tandem with yours.

“Before we do this I just want to tell you that I’ve never-" You bite your lip nervously. "I've never done this before.”

“This?” He looks confused, withdrawing his hand from under your ruined dress.

“Well- you know." You gesture between the two of you. "This.”

"You've never had sex with anyone before?"

"No." You flush bright red wondering if that's a deal breaker for him. If he wanted someone more experienced. "I’m sorry."

He sits there for a minute, staring down at you. "Why are you apologizing?” Ben’s hand brushes your hair away from your face in a gentle gesture, so different than the heavy caresses of his hands against your curves he did earlier.

“I don’t know.” You whisper embarrassed. “I just- everyone else has and I’m pretty sure you have with millions of people.”

“Well not millions.”

“But still.” You suddenly think that this was a giant mistake, that you should just go to your room in shame. You drop your eyes to his chest embarrassed.

His hands are stroking along your waist, toying with the frayed edges of your dress. “Y/n.” He whispers.

“What?” You mumble.

Ben raises his hand to cup your cheek, turning your gaze back on him. The way he’s looking at you causes a hot jolt of energy to race down your spine and makes you wish that you were more confident or knew what you were doing.

 He’d been with hundreds of women all kinds of women and what had I been doing all these years? Nothing and no one. I’m not really sure if I understood the mechanics OF sex- but oh how I wished. My head was just getting in the way of everything else as usual.

“I will admit that I have slept with a lot of women.” Ben sighs. “But it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-“

“I want to.”

 “Are you sure? I don’t know if I’m the best person for this-“ And for a moment you think he looks almost worried.

Why would he think that?

“I’m sure. I want it to be you. I’ve always wanted it to be you.” You breathe, running your hands through his hair, your cheeks flushing bright red with your confession, afraid that you’re saying too much, giving too much away as to how much he means to you.

“Really?” Ben smiles in a way that makes your breath catch.

You nod.

“I can’t promise it won’t hurt.” The darkness in his eyes shifts to something else and for a moment it’s difficult for you to form a sentence. He leans his forehead against yours, searching your eyes.  “I don’t want to hurt you.” Ben whispers it like a secret.

“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you Ben.” You whisper, knotting you hands in his hair.

“You do?”

You nod your head. “And I’m pretty sure that I’m just as capable of hurting you-“

“Maybe.” The look in his eyes is back, blazing through his green irises in a way that makes your throat swell closed. He bends over to whisper against the curve of your ear. “Then again, I kinda like that Sweetheart.” His lips brush just behind your right ear, making a shiver go down your spine. Ben smiles at your reaction before he dips down to kiss you, but it’s different, the kiss is soft, trusting, and not the previous manic haze of desire it was previously. “ I know you think it’s a big deal, but I like that I’m your first. Because it means that no other man has touched you, made you feel any of the things that I’m going to do to you, and that I’ll never have to share you with anyone else.” His grip on your waist tightens possessively. “That you’ll be completely and utterly mine and no one else can do a damn thing.”

You inhale and try not to faint from the darkened look in his eyes. “Well when you put it that way-“

“Come on.” Ben stands from the couch.

Before you can get up to follow he picks you up like you weigh nothing causing you to automatically wrap your thighs around his waist as he kisses you feverishly again, wiping your mind of anything and everything but him.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, entangling your hands at the nape of his neck to secure yourself.

“I’m not going to let your first time be on some shitty couch.” He mutters against your lips while adjusting his grip under your legs

And with that he takes you down the hall and kicks your bedroom door closed behind you.

A/N: Well it finally happened. Unfortunately this is also when all hell breaks loose…

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts

@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Anne Baxter (The Ten Commandments, All About Eve)—her soft, gentle voice in "all about eve", those gentle eyes with something odd behind them, the way she flips from Sweet Innocent to Viper on a dime......there was something Built Different about anne baxter, man, and it makes her so good for playing people who are Built Wrong. also one of my favorite batmen villains (her joint episode w vincent price is a delight) and of course I'm obsessed with her columbo episode where she bosses around edith head and does fabulous movie star things for no good reason. and i would be REMISS if i didn't mention her slink—oh the slink—in the ten commandments...................pardon me i must go think of sinning again

Waheeda Rehman (Chaudhvin Ka Chand, Pyaasa, Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam)—90+ films and counting, an absolute legend of Hindi cinema. When I see her in Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam it makes me want to chew glass

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Anne Baxter:

The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.

Anne Baxter was part of my Bisexual Awakening. My family has a tradition that every Palm Sunday we watch The ten commandments on TV together... And starting from a very young age, I essentially developed a crushes on Anne Baxter's Nefertiri & Yul Brynner's Ramses. Dude, the woman was HOT! They both were! My crush definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Anne Baxter's costumes were a bit on the sheer side. She had a way of capturing you with her eyes, and I never understood why Charlton heston's Moses didn't just have a threesome with Nefertiri and Ramses. LOL

Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.

Look. Listen. I only *just* discovered her on a post from the Have You Seen This Romcom poll blog. Saw she had the same last name as me and went OOH hi hello. Went to her IMdB and saw she was born in Indiana like moi. I am now even more intrigued. Been eagerly telling my partner this, and he was like "maybe you guys are distantly related?" And after 2 hrs of going down the tumblr tag + her imdb photos, I'm In Deep(tm) and I can't stop looking at her like 😍 When I go to my grandma's house, bet your ass I'm gonna check my grandpa's genealogy and see if we're somehow related. Sorry that's not really propaganda I just got real excited, esp when I saw that the submission deadline was extended (bless your soul). Narrowing down the movies where she's hottest in was Hell tyvm. I've only just discovered her, she looks gorgeous to me in every movie still I see of her gdi lol.

Waheeda Rehman propaganda:

Linked gif

Linked gif 2

[profwonderbearthementalista]

Mentalist Episode of the Week (Week 14) - 3x19

The Mentalist Episode of the Week (Week 14/?) - Every Rose Has Its Thorn 3x19.

Happy Birthday to Patrick Jane - 16th September!

Mentalist Mondays - Week 34

This is the first appearance of two key TM characters - Erica Flynn (portrayed by Morena Baccarin) and Sarah Hannigan (played by Jillian Bach).

Jane solves the case in the same manner as Lt. Columbo in "Prescription: Murder", the first Columbo TV movie.

When Rigsby is nervously preparing for the singles mixer, he says "Maybe I should do an accent or something," and briefly speaks with an exaggerated, stereotypical British accent. Van Pelt makes a face and Cho tells him not to do it, implying that he did a bad impression. Owain Yeoman is Welsh and uses an American accent in the show for Rigsby. Owain originally wanted Rigsby to be from Cardiff so he could keep his natural accent but Bruno Heller refused.

@magicandmaybe, @backgroundagent3, @lightningzombie, @adder24 and @feministjane

@pisceanix, @stxrdust-widow, @wildwildtarget, @a-carnie-and-a-cop, @kathnaris

Photo credit to @catnuns, @robins-green-shades, @confessionsofatvjunkie, @kajaono and @renegadesstuff

[theartsanityshoppe]

Next up on the Doodle Dump: some comic/image concept drawings! This is how a lot of my comics start off as well - just bare bone characters and the text I want. I usually add all the details in after I snap a photo and stick it on my ipad, doing a second 'sketch' over these first ones.

Most of these I still hope to complete at some point, when I can muster the energy to do so.

Text under the cut:

First image, upper left:

1. (Columbo speaking) "Oh wow! You guys also know the actress who plays Query?? I'll have to tell Bennie - she says she's impossible to spend time w/ cuz she vanishes after rehearsals!" //text under that is a note to myself about the dialogue "needs to relate to finding Renee and not knowing their the same person... or something//

2. (Columbo speaking) "I gotta go find her (Bennie) now!" //text under the image: *Has no idea Query and Renee are the same person**//

3. (Cy yelling) "YOU HAVEN'T TOLD HIM??" // (Flint, angrily signing) "YOU'RE NOT MY MOM GET OFF MY BACK"

---

Second image, upper right - the second comic under the line. Each image is supposed to be Cy, holding one of Flint's guns:

1. BANG BANG BANG CLICK - (indicating the gun ran out of ammo)

2. CLICK CLICK

3. Checks cartridge - empty

4. Throws the gun

---

Third image, lower left, continuing the comic from the scene listed above:

5 (Flint, pissed off and crouching behind a wall with his other gun out, signing to Cy) "DID YOU JUST THROW MY GUN!?"

(Cy - unphased by this) "Yeah? So? It was out of ammo."

(Flint) YOU BITCH

Under that comic is a concept for a group image, with Deckland serving ice cream to Lotti, Blossom [whose covered already in ice cream somehow] and Flint, trying to wipe the ice cream off of Blossom's fish bowl. I have no idea what the bg will be, but I do know I want Deckland's weapon, a spring loaded "gun" with a boxing glove at the end of it, seen.

----

Fourth image, lower right, all in blue ink.

The first part labeled 9 was the last concept image for the comic in which Flint scares Lotti with his flames. After that they're all concepts for a bunch of photos for one of the asks I got forever ago in which Flint was asked if he likes kids. The answer, clearly, is yes, as he has hundreds of photos of mostly Blossom, but also some other kids he knows in the area haha. He just likes his 'niece' the most.

[duckprintspress]

Created Works Round-Up: April 2024

Duck Prints Press’s monthly “created works round-ups” are our opportunity to spotlight some of the amazing work that people working with us have done that ISN’T linked to their work with Duck Prints Press. We include fanworks, outside publications, and anything else that creators feel like sharing with y’all. Inclusion is voluntary and includes anything that they decided “hey, I want to put this on the created work’s round-up!”

Check out what they’ve shared with us this month…

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Art for Mosaic Haiku, Chapter One by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot

art || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || general audiences || creator choses not to use warnings || complete

summary: I'm painting watercolor sketches of key scenes in the lifetime that Eliot and Quentin spend together at the Mosaic in The Magicians Season 3, Episode 5, "A Life in the Day" (and relevant scenes that touch on this from other episodes). Part of my purpose here is to give us these important moments in full color, with good lighting and the ability to see their faces and body language clearly. I'm also just aiming to celebrate the vibrancy of their lives together. These are designed to accompany my haiku in my haiga project, "Mosaic Haiku." The original photos with the haiku are now posted on Tumblr (links to each from the AO3 chapter), while I'm slowly adding my watercolor versions to all the chapters on AO3. The art for Chapter 1 of Mosaic Haiku is now complete, with three watercolors (and the original sketch for one of the watercolors).

AO3

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Secret Lives, Chapter Eight: Eliot by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot

fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || mature || creator choses not to use warnings || 3,547 || work in progress

summary: Eliot cares for Quentin while he recuperates from the hedge witch battle. To avoid the dean's restrictions, they decide to collaborate on one of Eliot's ghost rescue missions. (This chapter's short and mostly fluffy!)

TUMBLR - AO3

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Every After by MindfulWrath / @mindfulwrath

fiction || kingdom hearts 2 || m/m || axel/roxas || mature || graphic depictions of violence, major character death, rape/non-con, underage || 139,484 || complete

summary: If it always starts the same way, how could the ending ever change?

other tags: Alternate Universe, Disney Multiverse, Angst and Tragedy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Eye Trauma, Transphobia, Internalized Homophobia, Suicidal Thoughts

AO3

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...& the Future by Rascal Hartley / @crack--attack

fiction || damar series - robin mckinley, the hero and the crown - robin mckinley || poly (multiple genders) || aerin/luthe/tor || mature || no major warnings apply || 11,270 || complete

summary: She thinks often of Luthe as Tor and her father recover, and as she herself regains her strength; she thinks of him in his lonely castle, his blonde curls, his eyes under the glistening moon. He does feel like a dream, but a good one, as if she might close her eyes just so and re-enter it at will. As it is, she holds Tor's hand at his bedside and waits.

(Alternate ending to _The Hero and the Crown_ where Arlbeth survives, Talat stays with Aerin, and everything is a bit more queer)

other tags: Canon divergent, getting together, homoerotic swordfighting, enemies to lovers speedrun, minor peril

AO3

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The Recondite by S. J. Ralston

fiction || original work || no ships || teen & up || graphic depictions of violence || 7,029 || complete

summary: Something wretched is stirring in the Third Ward of Houston. Fisher, self-proclaimed Columbo of Los Espookies, aims to find out what it is before it finishes waking up.

other tags: Urban Fantasy, Queerphobia, Racism, Body Horror

LINK

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Heat transfer by Smehur / @smehur

art || baldur's gate 3 || m/m || astarion/tav || mature || no major warnings apply || complete

summary: When a healthy, living man holds an ancient vampire

TUMBLR

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On Books and Reading by Smehur / @smehur

fiction || baldur's gate 3 || m/m || astarion/tav || teen & up || no major warnings apply || 2,495 || ongoing series

summary: Panic roils underneath Tav’s outward calm. What to do? If he outright refuses to give Astarion the cursed book, the nascent bond between them will snap. He doesn’t want that. But what Astarion asks is irrational, and to agree with it would be irrational too. Worse still, it would set a dangerous precedent. He’ll know exactly how to manipulate Tav the next time some whim takes hold of him.

other tags: Slow Burn, Disabled Character, Male Tav

AO3

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Once Upon a Future Time: Saverre's Seven Ravens by Terra P. Waters / @terrapwaters

fiction || original work || platonic or familial || general audiences || no major warnings apply || 10k || complete

summary: When Saverre finds out she had seven older brothers who were kidnapped by the government and turned into cybernetic warriors called Ravens, she goes on a quest to save them and bring them home. A sci-fi retelling of the Grimm's Fairy Tale, "The Seven Ravens."

other tags: space stations, space ships, vent crawling, family drama, body modification, cybernetics, confidence games

LINK

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Creativity for the Love of It, Part 2: Fanworks by Max Jason Peterson / @eliotqueliot

meta || original work || no ships || general audiences || no major warnings apply || 1,772 || complete

summary: An essay about some of the reasons fanworks are wonderful, from the point of view of a fanworks creator (in the universe of Lev Grossman's series, The Magicians) who also makes original fiction/poetry/art. Includes kudos for Lev Grossman as a friend of fanworks.

LINK

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Whimsical Life by May Barros / @mayarab

ttrpg || original work || no ships || general audiences || no major warnings apply || complete

summary: A slice-of-life rpg about magical beings doing odd jobs to a non-magical community and growing in power and knowledge.

They sell their services, study their craft, deal with magical shenanigans and interact with the community.

TUMBLR - LINK

​Why not take a moment and check out the awesome stuff folks have made? It'll be worth your time!

[starsarefire824]

Another little illustration from The Pact. Truth or Dare anyone?

Then he frowns. “I don’t want to sit here and sulk over how big of assholes we are. Let’s do something dumb.” 

“Dumb?” She asks.

“ Fun and dumb, ” Mike clarifies.

Max hums as she mulls it over. There aren’t many options that don’t require leaving this room. And she most certainly is not leaving here until it's time to go home. “Okay—-“ She bites her lip. “How about truth or dare?” 

Mike groans. “Oh no— really ?” He wipes his hand over his face like he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life. Maybe he has , Max thinks devilishly.  

“Well if you can think of something else fun to do that doesn’t require leaving this room, I’m allll ears.” 

Mike furrows his brow at her and doesn’t speak for a long while like he really is trying to think of something else. Then he sighs, “I got nothing.” 

“Thought so,” Max teases. “Okay you first.” She definitely notices she slurs the “st” in first. 

He grins at her as he sets the bottle down on the table and leans on his knees with his elbows, hands hanging relaxedly between his legs. “Truth or dare?” 

“Mmm—dare,” she replies.

Mike’s eyes light up with surprise. “Hmph,” he says. “I didn’t think you would actually say dare. Okay—” Mike puts his hand to his chin and peers around the room like he is Columbo. 

“I dare you—” he says slowly, still thinking. Then he stops, his gaze set on the side table behind the desk. “I dare you—-to draw on Mr. Harrington’s face in that picture.” He nods towards it and Max follows his line of sight to the picture in question. It’s a rather depressing professional family portrait in a gold frame. Steve, his mom and dad are all unsmiling. His dad has an awkward hand on his mothers shoulder and Steve looks completely miserable in some preppy outfit he wouldn’t be caught dead in these days. 

Max grins. Okay, that is pretty funny. One point for Mike Wheeler. Max gets up, leaning a little too heavily on the armrest and tries not to stumble right onto the coffee table. She goes to the desk and she can hear Mike follow her. She opens the drawer and after a little hunting finds what she is looking for. A red pen. Then she, rather gracefully considering how drunk she is, undoes the back of the frame and slips out the picture of the Harrington family and then quickly doodles little devil horns and a tail and angry little eyebrows on Mr. Harrington’s face. Then she holds it up to the light and they stare at it. 

“Eh-I think he looks better,” Mike says approvingly behind her, and Max sputters, a real giggle bubbling up in her belly. She hits his stomach with the back of her hand. “You’re such a dick,” she says as she puts the photo back in the frame and sets it exactly where it was on the table. 

“I’m not the one who just turned Mr. Harrington into a devil.” 

“Touché,” she says and they head back to the couch.

[hughmunculus]

Ranking Columbo's Top 5 Babygirls

By popular demand (context: nobody asked, I saw it in a dream) I've made a list of the men in Columbo you should absolutely draw in this pose. Please let it be known the presence of the babygirl does not necessarily mean the episode itself is good. Sometimes God gives its strongest babygirls its weirdest episodes.

Criteria for this was pretty obvious:

Are they absolutely sopping wet

Is there some odd sexual tension there

Would I let them hit it

5. Alex Brady (S8 Ep2: Murder, Smoke, and Shadows)

Photo credit: columboscreens.com

So 5 was a tough spot because I knew what my top 4 were going to be pretty handily, but this was going to be one that was lacking in one or the other criteria set out above. In the end, it was between the soaking wet Emmett Clayton (S2 Ep7, The Most Dangerous Match) and the unhinged Alex Brady. In the end, I judged it on the most sacred criteria: what that dick do. And there is no way Clayton's dick game is anything but awful, if its anything like his chess game.

Fisher Steven's character though is an insane, controlling chaos goblin that's fun to watch when he's winning and even more fun to watch while he's losing. Fortunately he loses, a Lot. Later seasons of Columbo can often feel less about the titular detective and much more about the murderers, but I'd argue in this case its for the best as we watch him completely unravel (and in one famous instance, hallunicate Columbo in a Ringmaster's outfit).

4. Joe Devlin (S7 Ep5: The Conspirators)

Photo credit: columboscreens.com

Who is this man smiling at? His wife, a lover perhaps? What about the detective that's going to bust his ass for murder and illegal firearms trading? Were it not for Clive Revill and Peter Falk's chemistry, this episode about a man funneling weapons to the IRA would be... Challenging. Instead he's just kind of a chill dude in over his head who, to quote Columbo Screens, "wants to fuck Columbo so bad it makes them look stupid".

That being said, he most certainly corners the market on being a sad little man when trying to get ahold of those guns. His initial encounter with the RV Salesman easily tops my "most pathetic Columbo villain moments" as he struggles to find innuendo for guns while the RV Salesman politely tries to turn him down like a thirsty dude at a bar.

3. Dale Kingston (S1 Ep4: Suitable for Framing)

Photo credit: Columbophile.com

What he lacks in obvious chemistry with Columbo he makes up in wearing a frilly, crushed velvet suit and being just so extremely gay. Ross Martin's performance as the murderer and art critic is a powerhouse in a likewise tightly written episode. When he's not begging Columbo to leave him alone in the most sopping-wet manner possible he's making snide, catty comments about the art world. I wouldn't be surprised if Joel Cairo was a touchstone for his performance.

I would also be negligent to not say that when he's finally caught his lower lip literally fucking trembles. That final scene is so goddamn good though I won't link it, so go watch the whole episode for yourself.

2. Roger Stanford (S1 Ep6: Short Fuse)

Photo credit: columboscreens.com

Let it be known I had to fight the temptation hard to not just use the Roddy MacDowell cock photo. It would've been so fucking easy man. But I think this photo better captures the impish, effervescent performance he gives as the chemical company heir. He spends so much of this episode capering about, pulling pranks, wearing pants so tight you can see the outline of his co-

ANYWAY he isn't super soaking wet in the beginning, but through the episode you watch him slowly becoming more and more frazzled, more exasperated, more testy until it finally culminates in an explosive (pun intentional) final gotcha by Columbo. Watching Roddy MacDowell completely break down into a fit of laughter, putting his scholarship chain around Columbo's neck and affectionately patting his cheeks, you can't help but be awestruck by its weirdness, its patheticness, and how it's kinda... y'know...

1. Ward Fowler (S6 Ep1: Fade Into Murder)

Image credit: columbophile.com

Maybe this is a controversial top pick, but hear me out: never has a Columbo villain been so pathetic, so attractive, and so obviously into Columbo before. William Shatner plays a man playing a TV detective against a man playing a real detective, and the way he decides to do that is by having Ward be absolutely captivated by Columbo.

Ward is so desperate to get Columbo's approval, often trying to relate his real life experiences to the tropes he's played on TV as Detective Lucerne. Getting away with the murder of his blackmailing wife feels like a distant second of just getting Columbo to like him.

It all culminates with Ward filming Columbo with one of their TV camera, the latter unable to even get a single line out without dissolving into giggles. Afterwards they review the footage filmed while - dare I say it - CUDDLING on the couch???? Apparently Shatner and Falk actually hit it off immediately on set, which must speak to Falk's magnetic personality more than anything else.

This is the only performance I can describe on Columbo as "cute". Shatner schoolboy cruch on Columbo is so cute (and simultaneously so sad considering you know, the murder) that it feels unfair to not give him the top spot.

Anyway, all the credit to the Columbophile Blog for inspiring me to write this post, and to Columbo Screens for the gorgeous screenshots and being the de facto Columbo authority on Tumblr.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

hi! I remember you talked about jimins watch showing jungkooks birthtime during his Weverse live (I might be wrong), so I was wondering what you thought about the time jungkook posted the picture on Weverse? Do you believe it’s related to Jimin?

Yes, I did write about Jimin's watch. I let the spirit of Columbo possess me because I wanted to have some fun. I think it's important to frame our writing because it's usually the key to understanding someone's position on a particular topic. Maybe it's not always obvious for everyone (impossible actually), but my intention was to treat it as an exercise in fun writing about kpop shipping, without taking it too seriously. And in that context, I also mentioned Taemin and Minho so it turned into this close to ridiculous speculation about rich idols and their faulty expensive watches.

Now, about the time Jungkook posted the photos. Short answer, I don't care enough about it to write an entire post. I also want to mention that I hate math. So much. I do know the basics, but my hate is profound and the last thing I want to do is having to work with that.

I think there's some nuance here which I love. I love it quite a lot, in case it wasn't obvious. So, as much as I have no interest in math and numerology, I am capable of acknowledging that Koreans do and idols use it in various situations. Official content makes use of it. Maybe they release something at an hour that indicates a group anniversary or members' birthdays and so on. It's a thing.

I also read the posts which do all the calculations. Sometimes it looks like they add the numbers in a way that is part of confirmation bias, other times looks legitimate. I know K-jikookers jumped on JK's post immediately.

Now, should we condemn it, as some voices are making it really clear? The criticism of jikookers who do this comes in the form of them supposedly acting like taekookers, which I think it's an exaggeration. Engaging in a type of shipping practice, aka focusing on numerology, is something that happens in all fandoms and all ships in kpop. (Even swifties are doing math and major western publications are reporting it). It's one thing to not agree with it, and another to narrow it down to one shipper group when it actually applies across all fandoms.

Also, there is this false impression that jikookers are doing it more now because of a supposed lack of "content", which in turn makes them act like taekookers. It's again false and easily proven by doing a bit of research. Everyone in the fandom with a focus on shipping in general and/or jikook would know that such analyses have been made for years and have always been part of the shipping culture. It has nothing to do with abundance/lack of content. It's all out there, we just have to look for it. Perhaps it's harder to see it on tumblr and twitter because many old accounts are gone, but youtube might be of more help.

In conclusion, I think that the time when the photo was posted is open for interpretation. It's not something that I would do, as I have no interest for, but numerology is a known concept steeped in cultural practices in which companies, idols and fans alike participate and which is easily transferable to international fans. The way in which they apply the math might differ or not.

[columboscreens]

[andhumanslovedstories]

Some of you might not know much about Columbo but I want you to still be able to participate in democracy, so here’s so Cool Columbo Cfacts for you, and I’m not trying to sway you any direction, I’m just laying out some basic lore

He is an extremely annoying LAPD cop in the 1970s who specializes exclusively in murders committed by rich people.

This is his normal posture

This is my favorite screenshot of him

I believe he only shoots a gun once in the entire series and this is it, he’s aiming at some sand on the floor to prove a point to the murderer, otherwise he canonically does not carry a gun, dodges his shooting reevaluation, and bribes another cop to take it for him because he’s like “you KNOW I’m not gonna hit that target”

This is an official publicity photo they use of him all the time WHY. HE LOOKS SO BAD.

Here’s him with his shitty dog named Dog

This is what my camera roll currently looks like. This doesn’t tell you anything about Columbo but does perhaps tell you about me

And he’s right. Anyway I hope this helps, lets pokemon go to the polls guys

Okay fuck it andrew asked me this yesterday and I’ve been pondering it for 24 hours, also due in part of this fascinating article of from 1976 where apparently the price of weed was skyrocketing in California because rich people were getting into it

[hawkland]

Cas put his hand on Dean’s arm. They stood up there watching the town underneath for a long while, although Dean also noticed Cas watching at him as much as he looked at the view.

After lunch Cas asked him if he was scared of all high places or just flying.

“Dude, I told you I’m not scared. I’m just not a fan. What did you have in mind?”

“Do you want to see what the city looks like from above? I know a place.”

At this point, Dean was ready to try anything to see more of Atlantis. Following Cas up another ancient set of stairs going round some old ruins of a tower built into the rock, Dean was soon out of breath. Cas kept pulling him along whenever he stopped so Dean walked right on top of the tower with Cas. At the top it wasn’t just the climb taking Dean’s breath away but also the sheer majesty of Atlantis. Dean could feel his eyes burn with unshed tears.

“My mom used to dream about this place. She went missing looking her way here a long ago. I wish that she could have seen all of this.”

This is my second piece for the @spn-mediabigbang​ and Tossukka’s (@sitruunavohveli) fusion fic with Atlantis: The Lost Empire. Again, I was trying to directly re-create one of the animated scenes in the movie (you can see the inspiration image below the cut). Cas’s expression was driving me crazy, trying to capture it just right (and not accidentally end up painting Columbo instead, thanks to the goofy Misha reference photo that I was using!), but in the end I’m really amused with how it turned out.

(Yes, Cas’s Atlantean garments are done in colors to match the classic trench coat, suit & blue tie combo.)

It’s a fairly large (16″x12″) watercolor painting on cold press paper with some semi-precious stone and metallic paints to add some shimmer & shine. I took the close-up pictures in different lighting than the main picture to try to capture some of the shimmery effects better.

Stay tuned to read the full story & see more art come December!

[everysongineverykey]

i think deltarune undyne and columbo interacting would be the single funniest thing because almost immediately upon walking in and shaking her hand he makes a beeline for the flowers on the desk and starts rambling about how he always wanted to be more of a gardener but never had much of a green thumb and these are just lovely and would she be so kind as to tell him where she got them so he can get a little souvenir for his wife? she loves souvenirs, y'know! so she's confused and a little disillusioned cause she thought an l.a. homicide detective would be more of the typical hard, cold, scarred movie cop type and not a 5'5" man in a shabby suit and rumpled raincoat, but she gives him the address of asgore's flower shop and starts explaining to him in a huff that this town's pretty small and boring, there's basically nothing to do, but HE must have some great stories from the big city about gangs and murders and awesome confrontations in helicopters with fire, right?? but he's already distracted by the photos of her and napstablook doing good yet boring things and he's like is this you and deputy napstablook savin' a cat from a tree? man, that's really impressive. just wonderful! this town makes a huge difference from l.a., i gotta tell ya, i can't wait to go to that nice-lookin' diner i saw on the way here! and undyne's staring at this very sweet, very gentle little man half a foot shorter than her and thinking, i could punt you like a football

[theartsanityshoppe]

I actively don't wanna work so I'm gonna give some extra random facts no one asked for lmao. Here's 10 random facts.

To play on more with the Darkwing duck thing mentioned under the Keep Reading section above, that's actually where I got Flint's first name. His full name is both a reference to the purple crusader, as well as a fire pun: Drake Arçon Flint.

2. Cy's names came from two places: one being a placeholder when I was just calling her "Cyclops/Cy" in my notes and I liked it so much I stuck with it, and the other being both the localized and original Japanese names for Sailor Uranus: Amara Haruka Cy.

3. Her whole family is named this way now - all of them off of the localized names for the Sailor Scouts lol except for Moriah but that's for plot reasons.

4. Flint truly does not need to sleep for nearly 3 days if he does not want to, as mentioned as a sort of gag in this comic. He doesn't normally go that long, but if he's working a particularly time sensitive case, he might. It is pretty common that he tends to wear himself out during cases though. Even Cy chastises him for it.

5. Lotti was the first real friend Flint made in N.O., which I do plan on drawing out in a short comic at some point. She was... hella sus about him when he first blew into town though hahaha girl loves herself a conspiracy, even if she's the one who thought it up in the first place.

6. Flint does have a solid head under his flames, and his flames are noticeably different to real fire in his world. People absolutely notice this upon first meeting and he's had to face a lot of discrimination about his flames in his life up until moving to N.O. Case in point for the difference just look at the flames in the fire place vs his head in this image here

7. Jester's Justice, a character I 100% want to make some comics for as well going forward, was originally supposed to be more of a vigilante/antagonist character, but as I was developing them, I ended up giving the mannequin underneath Columbo life/a name/personality etc. and the two just became my version of basically Isaac and Miriam from Baccano! - only my totally in love idiots fight crime instead of cause it lmaoooo

8. I got the idea for Columbo/Jester's Justice based on this post paired with a badass photo of a mask my parents have.

9. I have a goal of creating 100 'unique' characters for this world - and by unique here I mean completely new to the story. As it currently stands there are a total of 16 characters who are from older projects of mine that I repurposed for N.O., and about 50 or so that are completely new. So I'm about halfway there! [Not all are finished/viewable on toyhouse]

10. Here in America it was very common to see these signs in neighborhoods growing up in the 90s in suburbia, so I purposefully based Prof. Specter around what I always imaged that perp to be like.

I like your detective stuff! Does he have a nemesis like Sherlock has Moriarty? And was he born mute or did he lose his voice? The sign language is really nice to see in a character!

Why was this in the 'bashful' gif options

Thanks Anon!! I greatly appreciate the comment~ I myself, also really like my detective stuff and I mean reeeeeeeeeeeeally like it lmao

Otherwise, I'm going to write these answers out as the parts of the story these questions delve into is being currently reworked and some of the answers are kinda up in the air / half canon as of right now. This will probably be a longish answer so I'll put a quick answer up here, and a "read more" underneath that with my ramblings. Quick answers: Was he born mute or did he lose his voice? - He was born mute. Does he have a nemesis? - Yes and no... I've cycled through a few characters but the main one now, without spoiling much, is named F.E.L.I.X.. But I've been working on a couple others who could possibly take over as his main nemesis.

For longer, more rambly answers, keep reading!

So like I said the answer to at least his nemesis part is kind of up the in air atm. I also wanted to expand a little on the mute aspect~

Flint is primarily mute because I tend to view this world in the terms of a video game, in which of course the player would play as the Det. [and as Cy actually who hasn't appeared in the comics yet] and like a lot of video games I always imagined him as being a "silent protag" despite still communicating with the other characters. Like Link in the new BOTW/TOTK games.

The second reason behind it was I just couldn't imagine him with a voice?? No matter how hard I tried, it just felt. Wrong for his character if that makes sense? So I figured "hey why not just give him sign language! How often do you see a deaf or mute main character anyway?" I've started to see more ASL used in shows - most recently in Only Murders in the Building which I LOVE [both the shows and the inclusion/importance of the deaf character in the story] and I thought it would make him a more interesting main character tbh. I also really really REALLY want to learn ASL, as my first grade teacher taught us a bunch when I was a kid but I've sadly forgotten just about all of it as she was just teaching us for fun. It had nothing to do with the class lol.

As for Flint's nemesis[es]! He currently has at least two, one of which is still so under-construction they don't even have a name yet or a design hahahaha.

Originally his nemesis was supposed to be Prof. Specter, aka this guy, whose a literal shadow man. [Cuz. Yah know. Shadow vs Light/Flames?] He was supposed to be almost the Dr. Claw to Flint's Inspector Gadget, but I just never went anywhere with him?? I couldn't really think up anything good tbh, and I felt like Flint easily overpowered him. I also couldn't think up any good reasons for him to BE so evil/want to attack the town etc. So he just became a smaller villain, who currently works under the main big bad. I am a MASSIVE sucker for "opposite" characters - the "good" version vs the "evil" version basically, and I have been actively trying to utilize that in a story of mine FOR YEARS. Think like, Darkwing Duck vs Nega Duck. This shit is my JAM.

For the first nemesis, his name is F.E.L.I.X. [Force Entity Learning Integrating and eXterminating] Flint, and he's a sort of "evil" version of Flint. [These are all cheebs of the various forms Felix currently takes in story]

The littlest dude is ACTUALLY Felix, [he starts off by possessing a flash drive and transforming it] and the rest are just later forms he takes throughout the story. Originally he was just some weird little alien computer virus that landed on earth, a la Invader Zim style, here to prepare Earth for conquer by his Mother Program, which is still more or less the case? The reasoning behind him being in Neo Oldesville and him eventually taking on Flint's appearance have changed a lot though.

The main reason I hesitate to call him a nemesis atm is because he was originally just more of a comedic, but still kinda dangerous, character and Felix Flint was originally going to be a sort of split in Felix's personality/code that took life on it's own, separate from Felix, warped by the internet, others personalities, and probably some other villain's code. He was just gonna go kinda crazy as his coding was rewritten too many times and start attacking... but that idea has been scrapped due to the rewrites.

He was also smart, but not in the same ways the Detective is, so they weren't really butting heads like Sherlock/Moriarty do wherein Felix would be besting Flint at every turn or something like that. Instead Flint actually bested Felix pretty easily originally. Felix Flint was basically my solution to fix that major leveling scale issue lol.

The other character, the unnamed one, is a Mad Scientist/Cult leader, whose become basically the 'secret' big bad of what I would call the first season of the story. Idk maybe longer than that? I haven't decided on how long I want this story to be tbh. I'm still working on the character and their storyline and how it intersects with both Flint's and Cy's, (whose the deuteragonist to this story)... but the most I do know/will reveal here is that this Mad Scientist is the leader of a cult that worshiped two aliens that used to exist on planet who promised to help the humanoids [as people are generally referred to here] "ascend to a higher life form" but were later stopped and destroyed by a group of super-hero like super spy sisters who learned that the aliens were in fact extremely hostile and their idea of "ascending to a higher plan" was just assimilating all of this worlds knowledge/tech and then selling off its inhabitants as slaves. I haven't decided if the rest of the world knows this fact, or if the alien characters are considered martyrs or something yet... or even if the rest of the world knew they WERE aliens. Just that they're eventually defeated by these legendary super-spies, and that a small cult remained behind after everyone else moved on from their teachings.

The leader of this new cult basically wants to bring those aliens back - specifically by summoning one of their kin to the world to help fully restore one of the deceased aliens back to life, but what he summons is Felix instead, as the race of aliens the cult worshiped had all been destroyed and absorbed by Felix's Mother Program years ago. Irony at its finest lol.

This new mad scientist/cult leader character is supposed to have very deep ties with Cy, who in turn has pretty deep ties to Flint, and I've been planning on possibly making him a sort of Moriarty to Flint, but I'm still ironing out details.

One reason I haven't quite finished this all yet is because while I am planning on using some religious ideology [is that the right word here? or would mimicry be better] in the cult, I don't necessarily want to make it a "RAWR RAWR RELIGION IS EVIL RAAAWR" kind of situation, since it's specifically that CULTS are evil. I myself was born and raised without religion in my life outside of just being in America, so while I don't believe in any religion at all, I also don't want to be cruel to anyone who does. I do, however, know that a lot of cults use Christianity as a guise to trick their followers into controlling them though.

Mostly I just really want the two aliens from the original cult to look semi like a devil and an angel cuz I thought it'd be hilarious if they were basically the "angel and devil on your shoulders" lmao.

If anyone wants to know more I'm happy to explain even more in detail. I don't care about spoiling things haha I'm not planning on creating a huge comic or anything anytime soon - I mean I would love to turn this series into a game or something in the future but for now I'm just having fun I LOVE talking about my characters/stories.

[lieutenant-columbro]

i know thanksgiving isn't till tomorrow BUT i have some more holiday headcanons 😳😳

just like with halloween, the columbos go all out for thanksgiving

of course, chili is a MUST, and columbo makes it all himself

he also tries to help mrs. columbo with the rest of the cooking, but she won't let him because she's afraid he'll accidentally set the kitchen on fire

her fears are not totally unfounded, columbo did accidentally burn the turkey to a crisp one year (they got chinese takeout instead)

and speaking of mrs columbo??? her pumpkin pie is literally the food of the gods 👌

other police officers will start asking columbo weeks beforehand if he'll bring some of the pie in, which he always does

mrs. columbo will wake columbo up at the crack of dawn so they can start preparing for guests to arrive

dog is easily the happiest about having so many people over, he will run and jump all over everyone and beg for food from the table nonstop

and there are a LOT of guests, even columbo's family members from all the way back in new york will make the trip

they all absolutely love hearing columbo tell stories about his work

they are very proud of him :]

every year mrs. columbo insists on taking a big family photo

since the tradition of taking the photo started, she's been pestering columbo to get him to wear one of those big silly pilgrim hats in it, but he always refuses

no matter how much food gets made, there are never any leftovers: the columbos can and will eat everything in sight

so, columbo and mrs. columbo have to hide away any food they want to keep for themselves

[eraserheadbabyfever]

u guys have no idea how hard it is to find an unannoying supernatural blog to follow in this day and age i follow one and immediately have to unfollow bc they are talking some bullshit. WHERE is the spn blog for a normal reluctant watcher of the show in 2022 who just wants to see an occasional photo or text post regarding columbo's great nephew and or his gay lover