#Please give the show a chance

[rivvyve]

Supernatural Fandom!

This is your favorite show’s favorite show!

Please come check out Dead Boy Detectives- there is literally no fandom as powerful as you guys and I know as a Supernatural fan myself that this show will speak to you guys. It made me feel like a kid again, and the writers of this show are so incredibly promising.

You can stream in on Netflix and I swear it’s worth the 7 1/2 hours.

[onceabluemoonthoughts]

Sometimes I wonder what Gothamites think of the different Robins.

This kind of spiralled from Gotham Tok on my fyp all the time, so here’s how I see the progression of how Gotham sees its Dark Knight and Boy Wonder’s:

Pre-Robin Batman:

“Batman isn’t real”

“Batman’s a cryptic”

“Batman is a concept made up by the Gotham PD to scare off criminals”

They don’t believe he’s real. The only people who have actually seen him are hospitalised or in prison, or mentally deranged enough that no one would even believe them.

Enter Dick Grayson:

“What do you mean you saw colour… in the Gotham sky? You mean the red tint every night?”

“Batman and Robin on the paper? No that’s definitely staged. Why would there be a child running around in a leotard, and what, do you think Batman is human?”

They don’t believe again. But they see him grow up, they see meta’s in Gotham led by him. And they accept maybe Robin is an actual person running around with the bat that… might be a person, I mean he has ‘man’ in the same but who knows?!

Enter Jason Todd:

“What do you mean Robin got younger? I thought Robin was in San Francisco now.”

“There’s actual candid shots of the bat and the bird now… maybe it is more than a wives tale.”

First clear pictures on the paper and on the news. People start to actually believe both Robin and Batman exist. But they also knew Robin was in san Fransisco, and taller than 4”10.

Enter Tim Drake:

They don’t notice a single difference between the extremely short 16 year old Jason, and the 13 year old Tim. Goons do however notice the kid wears more armour now and has trousers… good for him.

Enter Stephany Brown:

Any civilians that actually saw her thought it was a costume and a badly picked one, dressing up as a vigilante in Gotham is waiting for someone with a bone to pick.

Enter Damian Wayne:

“Is… robin shorter again… and since when does he stab criminals?”

They once again can’t get a clear picture of Robin. He’s always in the shadows! And he’s fast. Also multiple villains swear he can sound like all sorts of different people. Why can he sound like Amanda Waller?! Goons continuously shit their pants when he just decides to fuck with them and sound like whatever villain they were hired by.

[saline-coelacanth]

Alright guys, season 2 part 2 of Dragons Rising is almost here so I just wanna remind everyone that even when the episodes come out, you NEED to tag your spoilers because not everyone is gonna be able to watch it right away.

Please treat this like a normal release and continue to tag spoilers for a while after the release. If this was a normal release that didn't have all the episodes leak ahead of time, you'd still tag your spoilers for people who aren't able to watch right away, so this should be treated the same way.

And also I guess this is another reminder to TAG YOUR GODDAMN SPOILERS PEOPLE! I have seen so many posts that aren't tagged as spoilers and it's driving me crazy! And I'm not even trying to avoid spoilers so I can only imagine how much more annoying it is for people who ARE avoiding spoilers. A little trick I tend to use is anything that could be considered a spoiler, no matter how small or irrelevant, it gets tagged as a spoiler. Because even if something doesn't seem like a big deal to you, it could still make someone upset having it spoiled for them.

So yeah, keep tagging your spoilers and don't stop tagging your spoilers when the episodes release officially. Give it some time before you stop tagging spoilers.

[iamafanofcartoons]

If you want to describe RWBY to your friends and get them to watch the show?Show them this.  Also? When they ask what is RWBY:  The name RWBY is derived from the four main protagonists' forenames: Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna and Yang Xiao Long, And their respective thematic colors (red, white, black and yellow).

For the description of the show: Imagine a show that starts out like Sailor moon, only weapon specialists instead of magical girls, but still women taking on roles typically held by straight white males. Then it evolves into action-adventure where the four gay female protagonists have to deal with the drama caused by a divorce between a religious wizard and his apostate witch wife. Also everything are guns and gay.

https://www.reddit.com/r/fnki/comments/14m59l6/telling_stories/

[emotionalwhump]

James Fox and Dirk Bogarde on The Servant (1963) Dir. Joseph Losey (P. 1/3)

- "You won't get many better than me, you know. What do you want? An old hag running around the house, getting you up in the morning at the crack of dawn, telling you what to do? My only ambition is to serve you. You know that, don't you?" -

[jcshallenqb]

i'm sorry but this scene does something to me 🤗🧎‍♀️‍➡️💘

[biblically-accurate-dca]

super disorganized sketch page because i do what i want

[cnwolf-brainrot]

just claiming my "I was here when the live action ninjago movie was announced" cred

not on my Bingo card for this week, not sure what to do with this information

[end0r4]

You know that I like, like you a lot

Don’t let it stop

[thegreatmelodrama]

I think what surprised me most about the CW’s Nancy Drew was how the show sold the story it was telling. I was so skeptical at first of the paranormal element (especially on a CW show), and yet the show not only fully leaned into it, but also balanced it with very real and complex storylines rooted around diverse human experiences. This combined with the performances from the actors—both individual and as an ensemble—truly draws you in. In fact, the times when the writing may fall flat are almost always offset by performances that shine, as well as the incredible chemistry between the actors. This translates to a chemistry between the characters that feels natural, and it is this element in particular which not only lies at the heart of the show, but drives the story as a whole.

[arosebyan0thername]

If there are a million Reeve Carney as Orpheus fans in the world, I am one of them. If there are only two Reeve Carney as Orpheus fans in the world, I am one of them (Eva Noblezada is the other). If there are no Reeve Carney as Orpheus fans in the world, Eva Noblezada and I are dead 😔

[triaelf9]

An indie animated show kickstarter that needs YOUR HELP!!!!

In this world where huge streaming companies decide what show survives, let's fund something WE want to see out there, with no control by hyper rich CEOs who just want more money and fewer artists to have work.

In the words of the creator:

"WHEELS & ROSES is queer Sailor Moon meets roller derby coming of age story.

I want to center queer Black & Brown kiddos in magical stories"

(More here)

There's not a lot of time left, but they're SO SO CLOSE, so please, let's boost the HECK outta this and go support if you're able!!

[chronicowboy]

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) | 2.6k

eddie starts dating again, buck doesn't want to be waiting on the couch forever, hen really wasn't expecting this conversation, and eddie may or may not eavesdrop. just a little.

Its not a big thing in the end.

Chimney asks Eddie how the date with Vanessa went over Bobby's minestrone and a loaf of Athena's sourdough, Eddie tells them about the date and subsequent talk with his aunt.

There's a joke about setting Eddie up with a single mom from Denny's school, or at least Buck hopes it was a joke, and then the bell rings.

Its not a big thing.

At all.

Except Buck can't stop thinking about it.

The little glint in Eddie's eye now he's realised that his life doesn't have to revolve around Chris and only Chris.

Buck hates himself for hating that glint.

But he thought—

He's not sure what he thought exactly.

That he had more time?

That Eddie would stay content with just a best friend at his side forever?

Maybe, however foolishly, Buck had thought that being Buck was enough for Eddie too.

But, like a coma dream, it all has to come crashing down around you at some point.

Which is why Buck finds himself hunched over on the couch at three-forty AM whilst everyone else is asleep in the bunk room.

Or so he thinks.

Its Hen's gentle footsteps that have him pulling his head out of his hands for the first time in—

Shit, has he been sat here for two hours?

"Hey, Buckaroo." She smiles at him, eyes scrutinising behind her glasses. "Want some tea?"

"Sure," he says, voice hoarser than he'd been expecting. Hen squints at him for a moment, and he knows with the utmost certainty that his tea will come with a dash of oat milk and a heaping spoon of sisterly interrogation.

He settles against the back of the couch, head tilted up towards the ceiling, and counts his breaths as the sounds of the kitchen soothe his hackles. If there was anyone he was going to talk to about this, it'd be Hen. He's sort of glad that she'd woken up and found him, taken the decision from his hands, because he's not sure he would have sought her out of his own volition.

Hen sits down on the coffee table in front of him, and he gives himself a beat to prepare before picking his head up and taking his mug from her hands.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks.

"Woke up and couldn't stop thinking about Nathaniel." Hen shakes her head, something sad wrinkling the corners of her mouth. "Thought some tea might calm me."

"Mm," Buck hums, taking a sip of the scalding drink.

"What about you?" She tilts her head at him, kind eyes that kind of make Buck want to cry. "What is it keeping you up tonight? Lightning bolt? Ladder truck? Shooting?"

"None of the above actually." Buck huffs a half-hearted laugh, unwilling to examine the last option too closely.

"So, what is it?" she pushes, gentle as always.

"Vanessa," Buck mumbles into his tea.

"Van—" Hen frowns. "Eddie's date Vanessa?" Buck nods.

"Or whichever date comes next," he clarifies, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"Oh," Hen breathes. She blinks, once, twice, three times, then so rapidly Buck wouldn't be able to count them if he could still do math.

"Hen?"

"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting this conversation." She blinks once more before mumbling, "always thought it'd be Eddie I spoke to first."

"What?"

"What?" Hen bats her eyelashes at him, a tight smile on her face. "What is it about Eddie dating that's making you look like a kicked puppy?"

He gets the sense that she already knows the answer, but the lump clogging his throat makes itself known at the prospect of having to answer. He sets his tea down with shaking hands before clasping them tightly in his lap.

"I don't think I can do it, Hen," he croaks, tears burning in his eyes. "I can't watch Christopher whenever he goes out on a date."

"You know you don't have to—"

"Of course, I do," he snaps. "Of course, I do. Because you were right, Hen. I'm not capable of being a father and walking away. So, Eddie will set up another date, and he'll ask me to babysit, and I'll say yes because I love that kid more than I love Eddie, but..." He breaks off here to clear his throat, only succeeds in lodging the lump more deeply in his throat. "But I'll be sitting on his couch, waiting for him to be early or late or right on time. And whenever he's not looking, I'll be looking for a wrongly buttoned shirt or a hair out of place or a faded lipstick mark—" The sob that claws its way to his mouth is ugly and painful, but he manages to swallow it back down before it can wake up the whole station. When Hen's hand lands on his knee, the tears roll down his cheeks and it becomes infinitely harder to catch the sobs before they can break free. "I can't do it."

"Then, don't," Hen says simply.

"Its not that easy, Hen."

"Have you considered telling him the truth?" She raises an inquisitive eyebrow, and Buck kind of wants to fall into his arms and become a little kid again.

"Its not that easy, Hen."

"Maybe," she hedges. "But Eddie hasn't even started dating yet, and you're already heartbroken. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I lose him completely," Buck bites out. "I can handle losing a part of Eddie. I can handle losing movie nights and lasagne four times a week. I can't handle losing all of him."

"Who says you'd lose all of him?"

"He doesn't feel the same way, Hen." He shakes his head, scrubs at his tear-straked cheeks.

"He doesn't know you're an option," she argues.

"Hen, I can't, okay? I just can't." He buries his face back in his hands. "If it was the other way round, you know, he'd be able to tell me. But I can't tell him."

"Why not?"

"Because if I tell him, I risk losing him and Christopher. If he tells me, he risks losing just me."

"There is nothing just about you, Buck," Hen says solemnly, leaning forward to cup his face and tilt his head towards her. "Especially not to Eddie."

"Hen—"

"And you know everything Eddie does is for Christopher. Have you considered that maybe he's not telling you because he's scared that both he and Chris, would lose you?"

"That's not true, though. He knows there's nothing that would keep me away from Chris."

"Does he?" Hen asks. "Because you don't seem to know that Eddie would do nothing to keep you away from Christopher."

"That's different."

"Is it?" Hen fixes him with a look, one where all her wisdom pools in her eyes and keeps you in place.

"I can't tell him, Hen." There's a finality to his words that shocks even him.

He makes his way up to the roof without looking back.

----------------

Its a long seven hours before he finds himself changing into his civies in the locker room, the torturous drag of Eddie's elbows against his as they unbutton their shirts. Normally, they'd be discussing plans for their days off, maybe splitting the chores to lighten the load. Today its stiflingly quiet. Buck wonders if its because he's normally the one to carry the conversation, or if Eddie knows something is wrong.

"Hey, uh, you free to watch Chris on Friday?"

Buck crouches down to slip his work shirt into his duffel and hide the grimace on his face.

"Always," Buck throws a grin over his shoulder. "What time?"

"Uh, seven?" Eddie says after a moment of hesitation. Buck tries not to read into it.

"Perfect, I'll see you then." He grabs his duffel and makes for the door.

"You know you don't have to, right?" Eddie's voice stops him on the threshold. Buck steads himself with a hand on the doorframe. "I could get Pepa to watch him, or Carla, or, hell, Hen owes me a favour."

"Eddie," Buck clears his voice of its wobble and plasters on a smile as he turns around, "I'm happy to do it. You know I love that kid like crazy."

"Yeah, I do." Eddie's face does something complicated at that, his voice so unbearably soft that Buck's heart feels like its been wrapped in barbed wire.

"Friday at seven." Buck winks at him and then he's gone, hoping he makes it to his Jeep before the tears fall.

----------------

Friday rolls around slowly.

Buck wallows in his loft for the first day, dodging texts from a sympathetic Hen and a suspicious Maddie. He only answers Eddie's, because he's pathetic and can't help lunging for his phone every time Eddie's name appears on his screen, but he manages to avoid initiating any conversations.

If Eddie notices, he doesn't mention it.

The second day he's on shift, suddenly much more difficult to hide from Hen's big eyes and Chimney's squinted ones. Even Bobby shoots him a few odd looks throughout the day. But Eddie stays mostly buried in his phone, texting someone with a tiny smile pulling at his lips. Buck has to resist the urge to stalk across the loft, rip the phone from his hands, and frisbee it right out of the bay doors.

The third day, the first twenty-four hours of their forty-eight off, Buck spends moping on his incredibly unyielding couch, all the while fantasising about rough blue fabric and the lump in the left couch cushion that's as familiar to him as his own hands.

The fourth day, Friday, has him waking up nauseous and pushing himself dangerously too far on a run for someone whose stomach only contains water. He forgoes lunch for a nap that only makes him feel worse, showers when his stomach complains at him with a rather loud growl. Then its just a few hours of focusing on the fact that he gets to see Christopher tonight.

Before he knows it, he's pulling on a soft blue tee and walking out the door.

The drive to the Diaz house stretches on forever, every tick of his blinker and honk of an angry Angelino sounding like a taunt, but he pulls into the driveway much too soon.

With a deep breath, Buck clambers out of the truck and walks up to the front door with the ridiculous notion that it feels like there's a gun digging into the small of his back. He doesn't bother knocking, not after quiet confessions over a half-packed lunchbox in the kitchen, and bursts through the door with a grin.

"Where's my favourite Diaz?" he calls out, toeing off his shoes and drifting towards the living room.

"At a sleepover," Eddie says gently, popping out from the kitchen with a stranger jittery energy clinging to him.

"Oh." Buck shuffles awkwardly. "Sorry, I thought—"

"I know I'm only second favourite," Eddie mumbles, a light flush to his cheeks as he looks up at Buck with those dangerous brown eyes of his, "but how about a night with this Diaz?"

"W-what about your, uh, date?" Buck asks, hoping the vicious curl of the word is only in his head.

"He just walked through the door," Eddie breathes.

Buck isn't proud of it, but he's not really sure there's any other way he was ever going to react to that. He freezes. Cartoonishly so. A full-on, full body freeze frame. Every muscle in his body goes taut with shock, his lungs still mid-breath, even his heart misses a beat or two in the pause.

He can't have heard it right. He can't have.

Except Eddie's staring at him with those unbelievably fond eyes of his, the rosy apples of his cheeks glowing in the dim lamplight.

Or its a joke. Yeah, a prank.

Except Eddie is chewing on the inside of his lip in the way he does when he actually is panicking, his hands flexing at his sides.

But Buck thinks hope is much more dangerous than a lightning bolt, so he doesn't let himself believe it.

"Ha-ha. You get cancelled on, Diaz?" Buck rolls his eyes and pushes past Eddie into the kitchen.

He freezes again.

The table is laid for two, a candle in the middle even though Eddie always blows out the tealights at restaurants, a bottle of wine left to breathe next to a tray of Buck's favourite enchiladas. The fancy napkins are folded into triangles on Eddie's chipped plates, Buck's favourite fork in the whole world resting on the tablecloth—the tablecloth—because apparently Eddie knows that Buck likes certain forks better than others. Eddie's shitty Bluetooth speaker is on the windowsill, the faint crooning of Hozier filling the room.

If just one drop of hope feels like a lightning bolt, this hope that rears to life in him now feels like a ladder truck.

Buck spins around to face a hesitantly hopeful Eddie. He looks smaller than he is suddenly, with a sheepish smile tucked into one cheek and his eyebrows high above those molten pools of brown, so full of love that Buck gets a little breathless with it.

"Eddie, what—"

"I heard you talking to Hen," Eddie says, not pausing in his explanation to give Buck time to worry that this is a prank because he knows Buck too well. "And she was right, Buck. I never knew you were an option." He tilts his head, tender eyes apologetic. "If I had have thought there was any way you could feel the same about me, I never would have gone on any date at all." He sighs, taking a careful step closer. "I thought I couldn't have you like this, so when Pepa suggested dating, I thought it might be a good way to move on. But I was fooling myself, Buck, because there's no moving on from the love of your life."

"Eddie." Buck opens his mouth on a thousand unknowable words before taking the two strides to wrap Eddie in a hug. "I love you," Buck breathes into his neck, eyes squeezed shut against the happy tears threatening to fall.

"I love you too," Eddie replies, wrapping his arms around Buck a little tighter than necessary. "I'm sorry."

"You broke my heart, Eddie."

"You broke mine first," Eddie whispers into his shoulder.

A pang of hurt in his chest has Buck pulling back to meet Eddie's eyes, arms still wrapped around his waist.

"When?"

"You died on me, Evan." Eddie sniffs, looks away for just a second before his eyes return to Buck with a longing that makes Buck want to do something truly insane. "You left."

"I came back."

"Three minutes was enough to break me in two," Eddie confesses, quiet and tender and overwhelming.

Buck thinks he's done quite well for lasting this long without jumping him, but he's no saint, so when he can't think of a reply to Eddie's heartbreak, he leans forward to steal it from his lips like he's ready to carry the weight of Eddie's heart as Atlas.

Its a dizzyingly gentle slide of lips at first, Buck afraid to shatter the illusion lest he be left holding the broken shards of his heart. But then Eddie's hand slide up from his shoulders, one to cup Buck's neck, the other to tangle in the curls he left loose after his shower, and something snaps in the miniscule atom of space between them. Eddie's mouth opens under his, and Buck readies himself to dive in when Eddie beats him to it, pulling an embarrassing noise from the bottom of Buck's lungs. Eddie pulls back with a wheezing gasp, dropping his forehead to Buck's as his chest heaves. Buck doesn't think he's ever seen anything quite as beautiful as kiss-rumpled Eddie Diaz trying to find his self control.

"Come on," Eddie murmurs against his lips, "let me wine and dine you, Buckley."

Neither of them makes any move to separate any time soon.

[cedarsmoke4]

God’s perfect killing machine has the most luscious lips known to man

[iamafanofcartoons]

RWBY Fans talk about why they enjoy RWBY.

https://twitter.com/map4thy/status/1637649018116292610

[buckbuckleybidisaster]

Save a horse, ride a cowboy buck