#theme: tv series

[thecutestgrotto]

hi hi! i love your dividers, they're so cute! would you mind making jujutsu kaisen themed dividers please?

Anon I’m a huge JJK fan, I’ll happily make these and spend way too much time on them because I ended up with too many ideas at once 😌🩵🌸

Jujutsu Kaisen

[muppetfreak]

Mr. Riordan, it is truly a pleasure getting to experience your second draft.

[molinaesque]

"What are you?" "Oh, I'm you, sweetie. You just... give it a little time."

[thaempo]

@asiandramanet event 10: scenery @asiandramanet august bingo: free choice

[aroaceleovaldez]

yknow i was gonna make a post about how happy I was to see the show acknowledge adhd/dyslexia/learning disability stuff and the way they handled and showed Percy's experience with that system, and how it influenced his reactions to things. But i'm honestly glad I didn't because WOW the show completely ditched all of that immediately. There was set-up for a really interesting arc about the demigods = neurodivergence metaphor and "You are singular" (pun off of "half-blood"/"demigod" and a very direct rejection of the "puzzle" metaphor for things like autism) and a very quick acknowledgement in like episode 2 of an off-hand "oh yeah all demigods are like that (adhd/dyslexic)" and then. nothing. absolutely nothing.

heck, they even changed the design of the zoo van (in the books very explicitly a black van with white text, which Percy notes specifically because white-on-black text is more dyslexia-friendly) which is a personal affront to me because That's My Dyslexia-Friendly Van, How Dare You.

i know some people have argued that maybe Annabeth pausing in the store was supposed to be her having a dyslexia moment, but if it was then we would have gotten the Dyslexia Effect™ on the text (and dont tell me they didn't have the budget for it cause HAVE YOU SEEN THEIR BUDGET FOR THE SHOW? They clearly haven't been using all of that). It's almost definitely supposed to show that Annabeth hasn't been in mortal spaces in a very long time and is, yknow, a kid, being indecisive of which snacks to buy.

i have said it before and i'll say it again: the core of PJO is disability. You can never remove that, or else it is no longer PJO. The heart of the series will always be a story made for an ADHD/dyslexic kid to help them learn about and be interested in mythology, and if you stray from that it's going to be very noticeable very fast. Almost every character in PJO has a learning disability. The entire series is framed as a way to introduce kids to mythology in a fun way and emphasize those themes of mythology being important even in modern day with how it still affects our lives, to ask you to look at what lessons we can still learn from these myths and how they apply to modern lives, and that you can be a hero not despite your disability, but alongside it. That is the core of PJO, always and forever. And the show failed that.

[polydeuces]

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 ; Dexter Morgan x Fem! Reader (Cult Leader)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; You linger in Dexter Morgan’s shadows, close enough to feel the darkness he hides so well. You know his secrets, his rituals, the thrill he keeps hidden from the world. Silently, you wait for that perfect moment to step into his path—so he can finally see that he’s been hunted all along.

𝔠𝔴 / 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ; (688words) mentions of cults, stalking, potential violence, intrusive thoughts, and elements of psychological tension.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

He was supposed to be the predator.

You’d watched him for a year now, the man who walked through the world with an all too familiar blend of invisibility and quiet command. Dexter Morgan, a blood–spatter analyst by day and something far more dangerous by night. But those were his surface-level disguises. You’d begun to peel back the layers, unraveling the nuances of a man who navigated life in the shadows, just as you have for so many years now.

It started innocently enough—fleeting moments when you’d caught sight of him on the crowded Miami streets, merging into the sea of faces like he belonged there. But you knew better. You knew what it was to wear masks, to walk amoung people undetected, unseen and unnoticed. There was something about him, the way he looked at the world, made him all the more intriguing.

So you watched. Carefully, hidden, with a patience you’d honed over years of practice, you observed him as he slipped out of his office at night, slightly tense in his gaze, focused, distant, as if he were listening to something only he could hear. Often times, you’d follow him to the places he frequented; his home, abandoned warehouses, places where the thin line between light and darkness blurred. You learned his routines, the way he’d pull his signature black gloves onto his hands, the way his eyes would sweep across the streets with a meticulous attention to detail before stepping into his own hidden rituals.

It fascinated you.. his dance, this performance between worlds. His life was a careful balance of precision and secrecy. And then there were his victims. You’d seen him work, watched from the edges as he sized up those he deemed worthy enough. You hadn’t intervened— after all, it wasn’t about them. It was about him. You needed to understand his purpose, what drove him and what rulebook or code tethered him to this life.

You began to study his life beyond the night as well, picking up pieces of Dexter Morgan, the man, the father, the blood-spatter analyst, the widower, the mask. You’d slip into his world unnoticed, lingering at places he went during the day; you listened to his colleagues, his sister and the casual comments that painted a picture of someone, friendly, yet distant, the “nice guy” who kept to himself.

You learned his patterns, his preferences, even the small, old habits he indulged in when he thought no one was watching. You uncovered the Dexter he showed to the world, the façade that kept his true nature hidden.

But you could see it—the subtle tension in his jaw, the guarded look in his eyes that surfaced when someone got too close, the small tells of a hidden life. The knowledge inside you—the kind of intimacy that was both exhilarating and forbidden—you knew him in a way no one else did, knew him not by the lies he told, but by the silence he kept.

So, you kept waiting, biding your time. You wanted him to know that he been seen, that he wasn’t as invisible as he thought. You wanted him to understand that he was no longer the only one who lived by a code of shadows. You watched him for countless nights—slipping in and out of his world like a phantom, leaving a sense of unease that you knew would begin to gnaw at him.

Until finally, one night, you decided it was time.

do not repost/duplicate on other sites. © polydeuces 2024.

note; i have a taglist open for updates on this story—just let me know if you’d like your name added !

important; please keep in mind that the dexter character is not my own original creation; it’s inspired by the work of the creators behind the tv show.

[chaoswithmusic]

Lin-Manuel Miranda is in my fucking walls.

I could be watching a show about a greedy duck and "oh what is this familiarly awkward high voice?" IT'S LIN FUCKING MANUEL.

I'm watching this super cool cop show and "oh poor Amy her brother sounds slightly pretentious" DAVID SANTIAGO IS LIN-MANUEL FUCKING MIRANDA.

This well beloved book of a lot of people's childhood based off Greek mythology is getting turned into a show "lemme check the cast of the gods in this show, I kinda like Hermes he seems like a fun god-" IT'S LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA BITCH.

[dykealloy]

Fallout spaghetti western trailer

[ampresandian]

The thing that I haven't seen anyone talk about re: Leah as Annabeth that we really need to is that yeah she's not blonde, so she's not giving any anti-"dumb blonde" representation. But "dumb blonde" is not the same stereotype it was in the early/mid-2000s. I grew up blonde, and I was smart, and I was treated that way, minus a handful of "blonde" jokes on like the school playground. There was no societal expectation that I would be treated dumb because of my hair color, not from my teachers or other adults I encountered. We no longer need the blonde Annabeth Chase to help show kids that they can be smart even if they have light hair. Book Annabeth did it, Elle Woods changed the world already, etc etc.

BUT there is just as much stereotype around "Black women are dumb" as there was around "dumb blondes" in the early/mid-2000s (if not more). It's a lot more racially motivated, and it has a lot more knock-on effects than being blonde has for decades. In addition to historic inequality that has led to Black people (esp girls) being denied access to education and able to like afford to pursue things on their own, people treat Black women as dumb. They just do. Just as stereotypical as the "angry Black woman" is that they are not smart, from stigmatism against AAVE to just general racism, internalized or otherwise. Portraying a Black girl as smart is not unheard of, but it's something society needs to see more of. It's something We need to internalize and accept and take into our everyday lives. Annabeth being smart and Black is representation we need, for all the BIPOC little girls and the rest of the world.

Annabeth no longer needs to be blonde. She is just as strong of a character as a Black girl, and still breaking stereotypes and working to improve the social view of girls. Perhaps even more.

Representation has power. Media has power. I think it's really powerful that Rick (et al) can see that power they're wielding, and use it to continue to make a difference that is positive and keeping with the spirit and message of the series as a whole.

[multifandominfj]

Anyone else hyper fixating on the fact that when we first see Marta go through her journey with Fina, her curls are tightly wound and “put together”, but as she slowly started to feel her feelings and accept herself, they became loser and “free”? Or is that just me? 🧁👀

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Do you find it all right, my dragonfly?

Warnings: downright traumatized adults who need to fucking heal their inner child, reader is also like hl where she's mentally unstable too but at least has a bit of her sanity, not really siblingxsibling, but there is implications, weird/uncomfortable relationships, god mentality, she may not be as bad as hl or sb she still sb's kid, i'm getting a hera and zeus vibe from them honestly, vought should hire a supe therapist or something, finale

Words: 1884

Summary: Years have passed since Soldier Boy's death in Nicaragua. But you and Homelander still suffer the curse of his blood.

🌸Did you get enough love, my little dove 🌸Well you do enough talk, my little hawk. 🌸shall we look at the moon, my little loon

Homelander's eyes pop open, immediately accomodating to the darkness in his room. Even in sleep he caught the subtle noise of the front door to his penthouse suite opening and closing. Normally he would have sprung into action and apprehend whoever dared to break into his home. Only taking him a millisecond to realize who it was, Homelander relaxes back into the mattress.

When he hears you tiptoe your way into his room, he sleepily mutters "Couldn't sleep?"

You don't reply. Simply peeling back the covers of his bed and slipping in next to him. You never imagined how much you'd miss your small home in the middle of nowhere until you moved into Vought Tower with your brother. There was no way you could live by yourself during your last year in high school. Vought wouldn't allow it and neither would Homelander.

Humming at your silence, Homelander shifts to lay on his side to face you. You didn't like how far away your suite was from your brother's. Back at home, he'd been on the other side of the paper-thin wall.

After a moment of quiet, you look up at him through your lashes. "Is it fucked up that I miss him?"

He sadly smiles. "No. I think it's natural. I kinda miss that asshole too."

It was always thought that Soldier Boy was invincible. As indestructible as a cockroach. Stan Edgar was the one to bring you the news from Nicaragua. You simply couldn't believe it as the truth. Soldier Boy killed. You'd sat there in a daze, Homelander to your left as he too stares at the stained carpet under the couch.

Every night since then you'd go to Homelander's room in the dead of night; unable to take how quiet and big it was in your own rooms. Embarrassing at your age that you still needed your big brother's company to sleep.

Homelander was the only person you can seek comfort from. Someone you'd bonded with through trauma.

His blue eyes are so bright in the darkness of his room. Your shade was much more subdued, like Soldier Boy's. Vivid and bold, like a streak of lightening.

"C'mere." He scooches closer to you and wraps his arms around your frame.

All too easily, you accept the security. As long as Homelander was there, you'd be fine.

Years later and it was still the same.

Only now the spotlight was on the both of you and if word ever got out that you shared a bed with your brother, heads would turn and Vought stock would plummet. No one would understand. Everyone would think it utterly disgusting. Not that anything bad happened. You simply couldn't sleep without Homelander being in the same bed as you and vice versa.

Maybe it was odd, but you ceased to care what others thought was normal. It was only Stillwell's private words to you an hour ago. scolding you like you're still that teenager who'd just lost her toxic father. And damnit did her condescending tone still work on you. Why was there a part of you that wanted her praise? Possibly that same teenager who'd grown up without a mother.

"Who cares what they think." Homelander scoffs when you hesitate to go into his suite. He still had his tacky supe suite on, the both of you having come back from a Vought gala event.

Vought's golden children. They sure did love to tote you and your brother out to the public. Everyone ate it up. The most powerful supes in the world. You were legacies after all. Born from the seed of the infamous Soldier Boy who died for his country. There were always Vought events that exploited this fact. It was fucking tiring.

You purse your lips, looking up and down the hall. As you expected though, no one was in sight. A strict rule that no one was to disturb this corridor as it contained the suites of you and the Homelander, the top supes in the entire world. Translucent didn't even dare to peep in on you and Homelander. You always knew he was there. He didn't need any warning. You were even more popular than Payback's twin duo. Both of you having been at the forefront in the creation of Vought's team known as the Seven. The members who would join soon after knew early on not to mess with you and Homelander. You were leagues above any of them. Not only that, but due to your childhoods being not so. . . ideal, both of you had your fair share of mental instabilities.

Try as you may, you were Soldier Boy's daughter. That enough meant you carried his curse. He cursed you with an unhealthy attachment to your brother. You saw how far off he was, having suffered more from Soldier Boy and Vought than you did. Even then you ignored some of the more questionable actions you'd witnessed Homelander commit while on assignments.

Blind loyalty.

"John." You quietly use his birth name to show that you were serious. His smile dampens until his brows fall too. "You know what they're saying."

"What they're saying, or what Edgar told you?"

"Actually your girlfriend told me." Snidely you remark on Homelander's twisted relationship with Madelyn. Seems both of you were to be doomed by unusual relationships.

The muscle below his eye twitches, a note of agitation which only your eyes were capable of catching.

"Regardless, there's truth behind her words. They're lower beings than us, to be sure, but if this gets out it'll be bad press for both of us and Vought." You heave before moving to go back down the hall. "At least. . . for a little bit."

After a moment, Homelander's obnoxious grin returns to his face and he rolls his eyes. He plays along. "Okay. If you say so. But you better not try to crawl into my bed tonight."

You scrunch up your nose before chuckling. "Ah c'mon. That's definitely something you shouldn't be saying to your sister!"

He doesn't attempt to stop you from going back to your suite though you feel his heavy gaze on your back.

As he'd predicted, you indeed came crawling back later that night to curl up against his back. You knew he had a smug smirk on his face, his eyes closed in contentment. Your brother was always aware of your actions before you even knew what you were going to do.

"You're annoying." You mumble.

"I'm not gonna say 'I told you so', but. . ."

You lightly punch him in the ribs but good enough to make him jolt from the abrupt action.

"Don't worry about what others think." You close your eyes to listen to his soothing words, remembering how the two of you would lay under the stars as little kids. A beautiful dream. "We're gods."

Yes. Ichor pumped through your veins. You and Homelander were able to separate your identities from Soldier Boy. He may have started the both of you with his sperm, but you'd forged your own way through blood, sweat and tears.

Incinerators.

Soldier Boy's brutality.

All of it molded you and your brother into the most powerful beings.

"We can do as we please." Homelander turns around under his covers to face toward you. Legs weave together so that you were perfectly configured to his form that latched onto you.

This was how he held you during those long, lonely nights when it was just the two of you in your small house. The nostalgic sound of the rain hitting the windowpane of his bedroom window.

He nuzzles his nose against the soft roundness of your cheek. Your perfume from earlier in the day still clinging to your skin.

This world could take whatever it wanted from him except for you. In the end Homelander plans for it to be just the two of you, the world a pile of ashes around you. Your smile would once again belong only to him. If it came to it, he'd even kill Madelyn if it meant you could remain in his arms.

If he heard a peep out of anyone about you harmlessly cuddling up to him in the middle of the night, he'd tear them apart. Destroy the tower in order to protect you. To protect this.

Did you get enough love, my little dove, why do you cry?

Homelander thinks back to that sweet little girl you once were. Clinging onto your beloved brother's leg for dear life in an attempt to not be swept up in Soldier Boy's darkness.

Such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth, do you find it alright, my dragon?

Remembers standing next to you as Stan Edgar stood at your front door with several other Vought agents to tell you about Soldier Boy. How there was nothing left of him to even bury. Not a trace physical of him remained on the earth. Only you and Homelander as a testament. A sense of relief washing over both of you and yet. . . a knowledge of doom and the end of your childhood; if you'd ever had a proper one. No matter the mixed feelings you had toward your father, it was a strange thing to now be in a world without him.

Stan Edgar saw to the finishing of your academic studies. He eased his way as your guardian figure while Homelander fell under Madelyn's wing.

Shall we look at the moon my little loon? Why do you cry?

Nights of looking up at the night sky with your brother weren't gone. Just different. The light pollution from the city chased off any chance of seeing stars. The moon refused to be covered though and you could still gaze at it's lonesome fixture above. Your heads pressed together in the same manner you used to do as your sprawled out on a blanket atop of the roof of Vought Tower.

He damned himself for missing the days when it was just you, Homelander, and even Soldier Boy occasionally. Where your backyard bled into the wilderness. Running through the trees while Homelander tried to catch you. Soldier Boy teaching both of you how to shoot a gun, using trees and beer cans as targets. Even picking up a drunken Soldier Boy from the bar at least meant he got to spend more time with you as you accompanied him in Soldier Boy's truck.

Well you do enough talk my little hawk, why do you cry?

You still possessed a scar from your first training day with your dad. Where he gave you a concussion. There were some days where Soldier Boy's training felt more like a punishment as he used you as a punching bag. Never did you cry in front of him. Only in the privacy of the bathroom you and Homelander shared while he cleaned you up. His strong, brave girl.

Homelander brushes back a few stray strands of your dark hair away from your face. You always fell asleep fast when in his arms. You were still that little girl. You always would be to Homelander though he acknowledges you as his equal. He would always be by your side.

After all, you promised to take him to the moon with you.

Thanks for reading!

[thecutestgrotto]

OMG I love your muppet dividers!!!! Would it be possible to do a similar Fraggle Rock set? 🩷🩷🩷

Hi anon, sorry for the delay! It was a bit hard to fit them together so I hope these work! The characters are absolutely adorable. 🩵🌸

Fraggle Rock

[dollerinna]

Very late to the conversation abt s4, but as a Noir girlie, I feel like this must be said 😤

(SPOILERS BELOW)

I did NOT like how there was little to no substantial development surrounding Noir this season. Instead, they reduced my mans into a comic relief character, which don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy sometimes, but don’t we already…. cough cough have the deep for that? cough

Like they could’ve done something so much more impactful with the og Noir, but noooOOO kripke just HAD to kill him off, and for what? Just for a few little scattered jokes here and there? Meanwhile this entire season has been an absolute uncoordinated mess???? ((Ik Kripke was planning to kill off Noir since the very beginning, but WHY?? 😭

I can see where they might be heading with a potential showdown between Noir II and Soldier Boy in S5, maybe mirroring the disfigurement of the og Noir or sth? But the way they've been building up to that so far just doesn't feel very compelling or efficient to me personally. it just feels they’ll land another lame “haha” moment for the audience and call it a day when it comes to that point

Impactful story arc? Nope- thrown straight outta the window

and yes I know Noir wasn’t even a primary character to the storyline in the first place, so it’s not like the end of the world or anything. Just take this as a nonsensical rant from a bitter Noir stan 🤠

[cormancatacombs]

A more polished version of what I tried scribbling on a marker board after my partner asked how my day was…

[Image ID: A 3-circle Venn diagram comparing the TV series Haunting Of Bly Manor, Revolutionary Girl Utena, and Fruits Basket (2019).

The overlap between Revolutionary Girl Utena and Fruits Basket reads “shoujo anime.”

The overlap between Haunting Of Bly Manor and Revolutionary Girl Utena reads, “WLW.”

The overlap between Haunting of Bly Manor and Fruits Basket reads “tearjerker.”

The overlap between all 3 reads “breaking supernatural cycles of trauma &/or abuse.”

End of description.]

[iced-american0]

The Edge of Sleep is the first show I’ve watched in YEARS to make me physically sit on the edge of my seat. It’s such a captivating show. I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s the best thing I have seen in years. The storyline is perfect and the acting is amazing. Markiplier you did amazing ♥️

[counting-stars-gayly]

Lord, give me strength. The PJO discourse has begun, and no one starting it has read the books in the last five years.