#tv : Murder Mystery
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noodles-and-tea · 9 months ago
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Back at it with my enchanted merthur shenanigans
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detectivejay · 2 months ago
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It's been a little while since I've made a poll, so I'm going to shake off the dust with a simpler question (although choosing an answer to this one is probably anything but simple for mystery fans.)
This is mostly oriented towards live action mystery/crime TV series, I'll probably do a later poll for animated shows or anime.
I can't possibly fit every series worth a shoutout in the 12 options Tumblr allows per poll, so please let me know your favorites in the tags and comments if it's not listed here. :)
Please reblog for a larger sample size, thank you!
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1000deaddraculas · 7 months ago
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Just One More Thing...
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tuttle-did-it · 4 months ago
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You know, it's genuinely sad to me that aging favourite character actors no longer have any fun murder-mystery tv shows to guest-star as murders on.
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missfisherandjack · 5 months ago
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Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 1x04 Death At Victoria Dock
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mendelsohnben · 3 months ago
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Jack Robinson: 🥺🥺🥺
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cressida-jayoungr · 3 months ago
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One Dress a Day Challenge
October: Silver Redux
Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (s1 e6, "Ruddy Gore") / Essie Davis as Phryne Fisher
This stunning dress is referred to as the "Silver Lady" by @phrynefishersfrocks, who did a terrific writeup of the whole outfit with lots of attention to the coat and headpiece. For this post, however, I'm focusing on the dress itself. The material is just amazing! I've included a closeup to show the texture, embroidery, and beadwork.
Phryne seems to favor this sort of asymmetrical neckline. Compare with the purple dress from "Murder on the Ballarat Train," which has a mirror image of the construction.
By the way, here's what Miss S wore in the equivalent episode ("The Haunted Theatre").
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mysharona1987 · 6 months ago
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Funniest fact about Murder, She Wrote is that Jessica went on constant vacations because the writers realised, after a season or two, that a violent murder every week could not happen in a sleepy small town like Cabot Cove.
But then everywhere Jessica goes, people drop dead.
You just confirmed the fact that the woman is a death magnet.
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boardchairman-blog · 4 months ago
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**Shots of the Episode**
Only Murders in the Building (2021)
Season 4, Episode 1: “Once Upon a Time in the West” (2024) Director: John Hoffman Cinematographer: Kyle Wullschleger
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clubartaesthetic · 5 months ago
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At least as deep as the *mariana trench* I wanna be yours
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its-in-the-woods · 7 months ago
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Coyote Head - Part 1 - Sharp pain of greif
master list
Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 
Alternative Universe where I make things up cause I ca
Synopsis: An old farm set on a couple hundred acres of land, surrounded by forest and wildlands. Lucy Maclean is now the new owner of her childhood home, much to her family’s dismay and anger. The land doesn’t feel the same without her Granddaddy around, the woods seem darker and much more vast. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s alone in the middle of nowhere for the first time in her life. Her great uncle Harris has stepped up to help her learn the ropes of the business, which is bigger than Lucy ever imagined. 
Her neighbor Cooper Howard, is happy to meet a new face in the area. Bonding over their shared grief and strife to make ends meet as the world is changing. Their worlds are shaken when Lucy’s home is vandalized, and secrets that were supposed to be buried forever begin to emerge from the woods.  Horror, mystery, and drama all rolled into one. There is something in the woods.
MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:  Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Eventually: Older Man/Younger Woman, Horror themes, long form fic,
Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.
Grandpa Tim passed yesterday, as much as Lucy wanted to say it was peaceful, it wasn’t. The man had always been tough as nails, but cancer was tougher. Though Lucy had fought hard to keep him comfortable, there was only so much the Doctors could do. His hand gripping hers as he gasped for breath, feeling his heart rate speed up as his body tried to fight it. But he had signed a DNR, there was no going back. So Lucy sat there with tears in her eyes as she watched the man who had raised her slip away. One of the nurses hugged her and told her she was brave. Brave for letting him go, for letting him finally be at peace. Lucy stayed as they loaded him up onto a stretcher to be taken to the funeral home. Remembering the disappointment on his face when they told him he wouldn’t be a viable organ donor. The cancer had spread too fast and too far for anything to be usedable. It was a final sting, knowing that his body wouldn’t even be able to help others. 
-----
The funeral was big, with everyone within ten counties coming over to say farewell to their favorite farmer. Tim had lived here his whole life and was born on the property where he raised his kids and grandbabies. His wife, Lucy’s Grandma, Shirley was buried in the same plot he would be now. Shirley had died six years ago after undergoing a complicated heart surgery. Now they could be back together again. It was one thing Tim had talked about the most as he neared his final days, how excited he was to see Shirley again. He often pondered if he would wake up in heaven and if she would look as pretty as the day she met him. Or maybe she looked as beautiful as the day she passed. 
Tears flowed all around, Tim was as big as life. He was always the first to help. Wildfire? He'd be there with his tanker trailer, pump, and hoses. Cow with a calf stuck?  He knew how to move the calf just right to get them out. Farmer got hurt? He was there with his tractor to make sure the work still got done. The school needs sponsorship? He'd be the first to give his dollar. He was a salt of the earth man. Tim was from this earth. As he was raised down into his grave, Lucy pulled out a mason jar of dark black earth. He had told her exactly where to go to get it. A little bit from the garden that Shirley had loved, a little bit from around where his favorite animals were buried, and a little from the first piece of land he had ever worked into a field. He wanted to make sure that a piece of the land he loved would be buried with him. 
Lucy could barely hold back the sob as she opened the jar and carefully sprinkled it on top of his grave. Others joined in, some had flowers, and others had their own dirt. A bundle of dried wheat, some oats, canola oil, and a pair of cow ear tags. As the items dropped the feeling of finality swept over Lucy. He was really gone. The man who had supported her through everything over the last twenty-five years was now in a box. Surrounded by the things and people he loved. On his right the love of his life Shirley, and on the left the two sons he had to bury before him. One was Lucy’s Dad, his headstone is where she went, placing another small jar of dirt beside it. Tears ran down her cheeks as she said how much she missed him, and that he needed to give Grandpa a big hug for her. 
—-
“I am not sure why there is even a discussion happening.” Shrilled Henry, the last-born son of Tim MacLean. He was a fidgety bird-like man who had been all too happy to get off the shit-hole farm. His words. 
“I am the only son, so clearly it should go to me,” Henry pipped, examining his perfect nail beds.
“Why would you think Dad would want you to have the farm? You haven't been here since Mom died.” Katie scolded. A favorite daughter, but still a middle child. She was a petite woman who had married a chicken farmer down south, she wasn't frequent to the farm but she always had made sure to phone once a week.
“Katie, you don't got much to say,” Theresa quipped, she was the eldest of six kids. She was three times divorced and spent most of her time in Europe. “You got your own farm and your own land.”
“Never said I wanted the land, Theresa,” Katie bit back at her older sister. “Just figured it should go to someone who could use it.”
“Who says I wouldn't use it?” Henry joined in, “I know plenty of people who would be happy to help.”
“Oh yeah, I am sure your closet of boy toys could be persuaded to help.” Theresa sneered, making Martha, Henry's wife, gasp.
“How dare you!” Martha gasps clutching at her purse.
“Don't you start, Theresa!” Henry added, grabbing his wife's hands and glaring at Theresa.
A roar began in the small waiting room. People arguing and yelling, and a magazine went flying. Lucy tried to tuck herself away from the madness. She was the only Grandkid there and the ‘adults’ were losing it.
“Alright.” A big man in overalls and a brown shirt stood up. Great uncle Harris MacLean, Tim's second youngest brother. The man was imposing and loud, and easily commanded the room. Making sure everyone settled back in their chairs without more damage. 
“What would your father think of all of you? Damn shame. Fighting over what isn't even yours.”  Harris came over and put a comforting hand on Lucy’s shoulder. 
“None of you were here when your Dad got sick. Didn’t hold his hand when he passed. When he asked for your Mama. But y'all sure show up looking for another handout.” Harris sat down beside Lucy. “Pretty sure the will has all the answers.”
The couples and their lawyers murmured between themselves.  Eyes glaring at each other from across the room, the coffee table scatters different papers.
“You doing alright Lucy?” Harris asked, glaring at his relatives, his voice low enough that only she could hear him. 
Lucy shrugged, “Was hoping it would be smoother.” Hoping was one thing, it was another to have this many MacLean's in one room.
“Thought your Mom would have come down.” Harris let out a huff, watching all his shifty relatives closely. 
“She's busy in Mexico with her latest fling.” Lucy sighs shifting uncomfortably in her seat, why were waiting room chairs always so uncomfortable? 
“Of course she is. Oh, Rosealy, you were never much for settling down.” Harris sighed, big hands rubbing against his dirty jeans. Margie would be pissed to know he showed up at the lawyers in stained clothes.
A striking man walked into the room, he was wearing a pinstripe grey suit that matched his silver hair. He was all long legs and a lean figure, the suit made him look imposing. Looking at the room taking in the rag-tag bunch and disheveled coffee table.  
“I am guessing you all are the Maclean family?” He says, a faint hint of British accent tinging his voice. 
“Yes that would be us,” Henry chirped, his eyes wandering over the man. 
The man let out a sigh, “Well I suppose if you are all here, we will read the will. I'm positive we do not have any other space-” He glanced around, “For everyone.” 
Lucy stood up and handed the man a folded envelope. The man opened it and read it through before reading it out loud. 
“Here is the Last Will and Testament of Tim Louise MacLean, of Rosewood, I make this will being in sound mind and body.” The man continued, going through the document quickly. “I leave an account to each of my five grandchildren held in trust till they turn eighteen. To my last daughter Lucy Rose MacLean, I leave all my property, and worldly possessions, as well as give her exclusive access to my accounts. To the rest of my children, I ask that you remember that you never had a want in this world. From schooling to houses, and though I love you into entirety. Lucy was my first grandchild, and my last child to raise, the one who loved the farm more than me or Shirley ever could. She will be the one to make any decision regarding the property and finances. “ 
Lucy’s mouth had fallen open as the room had erupted in an outcry. Her heart pounded in her chest at the realization that Grandpa had left everything to her. She watched as Tim’s kids stood and demanded that the will be read again. That their lawyers would have to read it, Henry going so far as to say he would contest it in court. 
“If everyone would please be quiet,” The man in the suit hollered, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. The room fell silent as they all turned to look at him. “I understand this can be hard news for everyone. But this will was originally formed a decade ago, it has been updated yearly. Including 6 months before Mr. MacLean’s diagnosis. I can assure you that he was of sound mind, it was notarized and signed by three separate witnesses.” 
Henry was sitting with his arms crossed, Theresa looked close to tears, Katie was bright red, and Great Uncle Harris just looked amused. 
“You are all within your legal rights to try and take this to court. But, I can assure you no judge in the area would not dismiss this case outright.” He made sure to look at each of them in the eye.
“As for Ms. Lucy MacLean. I have a large amount of paperwork to go over with you. As well as an appointment with the bank.” His green eyes locked on to Lucy’s.
“May I bring my Uncle Harris with me?” Lucy asked, her hands tight fists in her lap.
“Yes, of course, love.” The lawyer said, before turning on his heel and walking down a hallway.
----
It took three weeks to finalize everything, Henry had gone to the court, and he had tried several times, unsuccessfully to get the will reexamined. At the same time, Lucy was engulfed by phone calls, emails, and more. Most of these were tenants of Tim wanting to sort leasing arrangements, others were about moving cattle to new grazing homes. Lucy was never more grateful for her Uncle Harris, he had known most of these men and women. Was able to handle the negotiations and fill Lucy in on what she needed to do regarding cattle, seeding, planting, and more. There was also opening up the house again. When Tim had gone into hospice,  Lucy, Margie, and Harris had taken time to go through things. Tim had not had many worldly possessions, a fire had taken most of that less than five years before. But things like a new mattress, power hooked up, gas running, and the wood stove inspected all needed to be done. 
Lucy sat in the middle of a mostly empty house. She had decided at the last minute to leave her job as an x-ray tech and move to the farm. It wasn’t ideal, but she also had come into a fair sum of money. Her Grandpa had been a smart man and a frugal one too. He had kept most of his and Shirley’s money tucked away in investment accounts that had built a neat little sum of cash. Shirley had always wanted to travel once they had retired, so she had also stashed money away as well. It hurt Lucy’s heart knowing that they had never gotten to do that. 
But now it was in her hands, sort of kinda, she had leaned heavily on her Uncle Harris. He was so incredibly kind and made sure she never felt stupid about the millions of questions she asked. The first year they were leasing almost everything, the hundred head of cows Grandpa still had would be taken care of by Cooper, a neighbor down the way. Lucy had given herself two years to get herself sorted and get more acquainted with the workings of the farm. 
It wasn’t that she hadn’t known how to do things, she could run a tractor, cut down trees, med fences; she knew how to preg check cows and what to look for when tilling a lot. But the business end of things was a whole different ball game and she was diving headlong into it.
The trailer was doublewide, the living room had a couch and lazy boy, and the kitchen had a table with 4 chairs. The walls were mostly bare except where Lucy had put her artwork. She had also moved a handful of bookshelves in and her desk. It was surprisingly roomy and beat her eighties-era apartment she had lived in for the last five years. She had slid the desk and table together spreading out all the different pieces of paperwork, along with a large map of where all Grandpa’s property was. Her property, she corrected herself. It was hers now, somehow. Where she lived she was surrounded by almost 200 acres of forested land backed onto parkland. Besides the garden beds, barn, and shop it was wild land. It was one thing that Grandpa had asked to stay the same. That the land around the property be left untouched by man or machine, she planned to keep it that way. Even when several large logging companies had called knocking, for Lucy her grandfather's words meant everything.
A knock on the front door woke her from her musing. She also needed to go get a couple of dogs, not just for company; but also so she knew if someone was coming down the long drive. She walked over to the front door, steeling herself to be met with another person wanting to buy or hunt on the land. Opening it she was surprised to see a man standing there in a cowboy hat, fitted jeans, and button-up shirt. Scruffy face with a day’s worth of stubble, bright hazel eyes, and a blinding smile.
“Good afternoon,” The man said with a nod, “I’ve come over to introduce myself -’
“If you’re looking for hunting, logging, buying, grazing, or leasing, I am not interested,” Lucy said curtly, she really didn’t have a lot of time to dally. 
“Oh no,” The man said, holding up a large hand, “I am the neighbor down the road with your Granddad’s cows. And a friend of your Uncle Harris’. He said that you’d moved in just down from me, so figured it was only neighborly to come say hello.”
Lucy’s shoulders sagged a bit, she had gotten so used to people wanting something from her she had forgotten that most folks out here were friendly.
“I am so sorry,” Lucy sighed, “It’s been a tough month. Been a lot of folks wanting a piece of what’s not theirs.”
The man nodded, “I can only imagine. Not many people have morals these days. If there is a buck to be made they’ll take it. My name’s Cooper.” 
He extended a hand, and Lucy took it and gave him a firm handshake. “Lucy, I am Tim’s Granddaughter.”
“Pleasure to meet yah,” Cooper said with the same grin. “Tim was a good man and talked very highly of his last daughter. You meant the world to him.”
Lucy gave a half-hearted smile, it still felt so wrong that her Grandpa was gone. “Do you want to come in? I can make some coffee?”
“Oh, I will take a raincheck on that. Gotta go check on our newest heifers, see who all needs taggin’ and whatnot.” He said a small grin tugging at his mouth. “Want to come?”
Lucy looked back at the table full of papers, “I am gonna have to pass today,” She could see some disappointment flicker across his features. “But let me give you my number,”
A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he dug into his jeans for his phone, the two of you exchanging numbers. 
“Just in case, umm, you need help with the cows” Lucy felt a bit flustered, “Never know.”
The man smiled and tipped his hat to her, “I will see you around Lucy.”
part 2
** If you enjoyed the fic let me know!
** Want to be on the tag list let me know
** Yes this is fic number 3 please don't yell at me. I've had this one sitting for a while. Will mostly likely be updating this one once/twice a week along with all the others.. I DON'T NEED SLEEP. Sleep is for the dead.
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creathechiboi · 9 months ago
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ok but what if benoit blanc met shawn spencer
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redrobin-detective · 3 months ago
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I love writing my favorite characters and projecting my personality and interests onto them. Its healthy even.
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feliciawriter · 4 months ago
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I have fallen in love with Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (specifically Phryne and Jack) and I love seeing a picture of a country and a time that is very unfamiliar to this American--it is truly a study in sociology and anthropology. For instance, I had no clue communism and socialism were so popular in Australia after the First World War. 
But of course, the writer in me is drawn first and foremost to the dialogue. Sparkling and dynamic--a success attributed to the writers and the actors delivering the lines--it is a true tour de force! I'm sad I hadn't heard about this show earlier. 
To celebrate such delicious dialogue and striking ripostes, I've created a top ten list of my favorites!
But my number one favorite riposte from Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries? "If a tree falls in the forest...." "You are very likely somewhere close by wielding the axe!" 😂 Its delivery is so delicious, but the words in the exchange are what truly delight my writer soul. 
Why? It links back to a presentation by Karen Witemeyer to my ACFW chapter on writing deep point of view. She encouraged us to circumvent clichés by personalizing them for the character rather than writing them as they're known. EX: "It was hot enough to melt butter." became for my latest character (an Army CID officer) something like "... to melt an MRE in a Humvee on the streets of Basra". 
This tweaking of the forest-falling tree adage follows exactly that directive. Twisting the old saying into something new, snappy, and completely reflecting each character's personality (both the speaker's and the hearer's). 
Bravo to the writers for the masterclass example! And yes, I geek out on writing craft. 😂🤓
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missfisherandjack · 9 months ago
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“I’ll never again dismiss the fashion world as frivolous.”
Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 2x05 Murder À La Mode
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