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#might get cancelled
zyrlovesmizu · 2 months
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y’know I respect a fan’s choice about how they want to view mizu but tiny ramble about it here. this isn’t any sort of discussion or ‘matter of fact’ essay, just a simple rant about headcannons about her being TRANS and her SEXUALITY.
Warning: extremely long.
Given the numerous limitations that would arise from traveling as a woman, I find it very difficult to understand why some people believe Mizu is transgender when it's obvious that she is hiding this information in order to survive. This was particularly true during the Edo period, when women were dehumanized and treated like objects because we only ever see them as a slave or working in a brothel (majority of the show at least). They were also seen having to depend on men for nearly everything, as demonstrated in the episode where the mother and daughter were left outside to freeze to death since her husband was not present to accompany them. Along with that subtle hints were presented to us that show how comfortable she is when in touch with her femininity like a few moments in the episode where she came back to Swords-father Eiji’s hut. Though, I can definitely see why people would label her as transmasc with the theory that she must’ve grown so accustomed to this sort of lifestyle, she’d perhaps just become transmasc in the later episodes. We’ll never know!
Next, not gonna lie, I’m insanely guilty of viewing Mizu as a bisexual women despite feeling that she is leaning more toward heterosexuality in terms of her sexuality. I have the biggest fattest crush on her so I have no problem stating how much I'm crying and wailing over this. Like c’mon, let's be real, I guarantee that 98% of simps are female, and I’m sure every single one of us has mentioned once that we can all treat her better than Mikio and Taigen. Speaking of Taigen, I HAVE to admit that him and Mizu do have the best chemistry compared to everyone in the show. It’s clear in the way she pulls him away from those shooting arrows, knocks him out becahse she fears for his safety if he follows, saving him from Fowler's castle even though she could have easily just left him to die and slain Fowler, etc. At first, I would’ve assumed she’d have trauma with men especially after Mikio’s betrayal which might’ve led her to stray away from any romantic attraction with men—or anybody in general. Honestly, I have dedicated my time to search for ANY hint (ok not rlly) that she might be attracted to women, but the only time I ever see her become flustered by one is when she appears to be taken aback by the prostitues she tried to ask for directions to the Shindo Dojo. Plus, there were only two occasions where she interacted with Akemi that people use to automatically ship them which is when she saw Akemi in her carriage (not sure of the specific name) and pinned her down in Madame Kaji's brothel. I can’t imagine them as a couple in later episodes, something I’m been dying to see. Though, it’s hard to determine what was running in her mind during the scene where they both stole glances at each other, especially since there was no sort of indication in her inner thoughts or emotions, so it’s normal to assume the above as well. (Despite that, I’m still rooting for AT LEAST bisexual Mizu because for the love of god and for the sake of all of the gay women here, PLEASE. /j)
I may make jokes about these headcannons like playfully hating on the TaiMizu ships. All in all, I’m sure the fans are mature enough to understand that these are meant to be lighthearted jokes and that people interpret a character and show in various ways and it’s normal! Even if I can’t comprehend the theory or feel as though it is a little too complicated/really negotiable, remember to support what you want, ship what you want, make whatever headcannons, nobody’s stopping you! Don’t be too afraid to just announce what you feel about the show. All I ask is to avoid SERIOUSLY cancelling someone just because of their own feelings and opinions. In the end, they’re stilll fictional characters (😞😞) who have no sort of physical form of any sort so do whatever, as long as it isn’t really THAT problematic in a sense (e.g. romanticising rape), go for it.
(Sorry for bringing her sexuality into this, I’m aware of how the show is definitely not centering on this and not every single thing has to be LGBTQ-related but I noice it’s something constantly brought up in the fandom. As someone whose phrasing and essay writing skills suck, I’m still learning bit by bit about how the world works in terms of differing views on things. I may not support your idea of a character but I RESPECT it! If I came off as rude, I’m sorry, remember it’s just my random midnight thoughts🙏)
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black-and-yellow · 28 days
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years later someone buys the plot, turns on the lights and is suddenly worshipped as a sun god by a bunch of puppets falling apart at the seams
pov you break into the spooky abandoned Playfellow Studios building for shits and giggles
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#lore tidbit! the plot is not available for purchase#the building is only Technically abandoned. its still very much Owned private property!#actually ive been thinking about the Other side of this au. the people's perspective#cause in this au at least they all Knew the puppets were alive#many employees - especially the ones working 'closest' to the puppets - put up a huge fight when the show got canceled#but it was either Disassemble (kill) Them or Lock Them Away#and honestly? killing the neighbors would've been somewhat of a mercy#but the employees had no way of knowing just how Bad things would get#wh lights out au#scribble salad#and i mean. the building's electricity bill remains paid.#the employees that felt really bad kept it paid over the years - devoting a bit of their income each to it#thinking the puppets would a) be awake & b) be able to figure it out#yeah that's actually a lil fun tragic tidbit as well - if any of the puppets had found the breaker....#or found it and Messed with it a lil... flipped the right switch...#they would've gotten the lights back on no problem#but yeah anyway ive been Thinking about the employees' side of things a lot#might tie that in with act two. it'd make sense considering the shit that happens#well either they'd help the puppets out or they'd get shoved into one of the sinkholes by barnaby. so.#bc if we're talkin seriously here. the puppets are more likely to kill a person than worship them for any reason#they'd go full 'THREAT!! THREAT!! ELIMINATE THE THREAT!!! WE'RE NOT LOSING ANYONE ELSE!!!' mode
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faeriekit · 23 days
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Ghosts of Those We Once Knew
a phic phight fill for @silverwing013
Warnings for: implied child abuse, accidental death, dead parents
**💚**
“Oh yeah?! And what are you going to do about it?!” Aunt Alicia snapped into the phone. 
There was a sound on the other end of the line, but Danny couldn’t make it out all the way. There was another solution, but it was…risky; it would require going into his aunt’s bedroom— a well known, forbidden domain— to pick up the only other phone hooked up to the landline. 
…There was no other time to find out what Aunt Alicia was putting off. It had to be worth the risk. Danny crept up the worn carpeting of the stairs, hoping that his sneakiness would hold up to Alicia’s discerning eyes and ears. 
Her bedroom was dark. Carpeted. …Pink. 
Whatever. Danny took a deep breath, lifted the phone off the hook, and tried not to breathe too loudly into the mouthpiece.
“You have no right to keep Daniel in your dismal, miserable, isolated hovel,” someone shouted on the other end. Danny had never heard this voice before. He sounded like someone around Dad’s age, maybe? Maybe a little…smoother, despite the blistering anger coming through the line. “You live with no human contact for nine months out of the year. You speak to no one. Do you— is Daniel even enrolled in a school? Did you get any sort of educational provisions for him whatsoever?” 
“What, so he can get cocky and blow himself up in the garage like his parents?” Alicia snapped. Danny had to clap a hand to his mouth to hide his gasp of dismay. 
“You know full well that punishing your sister’s son by restricting his access to an education and basic human companionship is not a solution to your grief for your sister. You are out of your mind.”
Aunt Alicia’s voice got low. Aunt Alicia’s voice got mean. She sounded like how she looked when Danny had fumbled the water pail from the well or stepped two steps too close to the rhubarb patch out back. “Vladmir Masters, you listen here,” Aunt Alicia muttered. “That boy is everything left of my sister in the whole damn world. He is not going anywhere. Do you understand? Not for you to fill his head with her stupid husband’s supernatural hoo-ha, and not for you to snatch up and teach himself how to kill other people the way those two killed each other. Danny stays here. If you ring me up one more time, I’m going to do more than just mail dog crap to the front step of your stupid castle in Wisconsin.”
The phone cut off. It would be an innocuous end to a phone call, except Danny can hear the clatter of plastic cracking on plastic in the downstairs kitchen.
There was a moment of silence.
“Daniel Jackson Fenton, you get your butt in here right now!”
Danny jolted, heart pounding. He—he went downstairs.
Aunt’s Alicia’s lips were pursed, her eyes tight. “What did I tell you about missing all the sticks in the yard? It looks like a wreck!”
Danny felt his breath stick in his throat.
“Well?”
“Yes, Aunt Alicia,” Danny mumbled. He looked down and away. He wasn’t caught out eavesdropping, but…was this any better?
“If those sticks aren’t piled up beside the woodshed for kindling in half an hour, you can kiss your dinner goodbye.”
Danny hadn’t had dinner in three nights. He was very lucky he didn’t need to eat as much as living kids. “…Yes, Aunt Alicia.”
“So?”
…Danny went outside to collect sticks. It took until nightfall to get all the refuse from yesterday’s storm off the ground.
Aunt Alicia ate canned corn and carrots and butchered rabbit with hot sauce for dinner. Danny ate nothing.
Danny went to bed thinking about somewhere else he could go. Mom and Dad were dead—smithereens in the blast that had killed him and brought him back to life simultaneously. Jazz was in the hospital. He had no grandparents. He had no other aunts or uncles other than Aunt Alicia.
…Who was Vladmir Masters?
*
It took two days for Danny to decide to run away.
Or. Well. Fly.
He’d figured that if he wanted to find out who Vladmir Masters was, he’d need an internet connection. His cell had been on the Fenton Fone Plan™ and had been disconnected from the Fenton Family Patented Ghost-free Satellite™ for almost three months now. But, you know…what was a public library for, if not getting information?
The two-day waiting period was mostly just Danny getting his stuff together, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, finding anything worth stealing…
…There was a picture of Mom with her big hair at graduation, a black robe thrown over her Hazmat suit. Her hair had been so big. Lots of people were beside her, including Dad, and someone with a matching hair stripe. They looked happy.
It didn’t matter that it had been Aunt Alicia’s photo. The picture had gone into his backpack next to Bearbert Einstein and a filched pocket knife.
Mom was Aunt Alicia’s sister, but Madeline Fenton had been his mom.
…Was still his mom.
Would…would always be his mom.
Danny wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry. Still, the flying and everything was still new to him. It took almost ten minutes to get himself off the ground without floating off willy nilly.
It took another half an hour to remember how to go through walls.
By the time Danny fell (as in actually, literally, leaned up against the wall and then realized he’d not made contact the way he’d expected to) through the house wall, it was almost eight at night. Aunt Alicia was still listening to Prairie Home Companion downstairs on the radio.
Whatever. He was out of there. He was sure he looked crazy—his hair was white, which was almost impossible to hide—but all he had to do was get out of there fast enough that no one connected one teenage runaway with a backpack to Danny Fenton.
It was fine.
It was all going to be fine.
…And if there wasn’t someone who’d help him. Well. Being homeless didn’t sound…so bad…?
…Or maybe he’d just squat in the burnt out ruins of Fentonworks. That sounded fine too.
*
Morning broke. Danny ended up in a tiny town somewhere in Mississippi.
A nice guy at the coffee shop gave him a cup of water and told him where the local library was. A librarian plugged her login details for him on a public computer, and Danny was able to look up one “Vladmir Masters”…
…CEO and owner of DALVco, millionaire, and Green Bay Packers megafan.
Holy crap.
Like… There were hospital wings with his name on them. Charities operating out of his company. Every picture of the man was perfectly taken in perfect lighting with perfect suits and precise smirks and bright-white magazine article paper.
Danny went back up to the librarian. “Do you have any articles on…uh…Vlad Masters?”
The librarian smiled warmly. “Ah, school project?”
“Sure,” Danny lied, milk on his tongue.
Vlad Masters was a self-made millionaire. He lived in a castle in Wisconsin that used to be owned by a dairy empire kingpin. He went to—
Danny read the line again
—He went to the same college as Mom and Dad. The year looked right, too. They might have even graduated in the exact same year. If only Danny could still check Dad’s college ring in the bottom of their junk drawer.
Wisconsin. Vlad Masters lived in Wisconsin.
…Danny was really lucky he was never all that hungry anymore.
Danny got another cup of water at the coffee shop, washed his face in the bathroom, and got ready to fly another night.
He was no sextant, but he could probably figure out how to get to Wisconsin after a couple of hours of flying, and a little time to gauge the sky.
It would be easy.
…Danny’s white-topped, pale face stared back at him from the restroom mirror.
It had to be. It would have to be easy.
*
So, a cheese castle looked a lot like a regular castle.
Danny squinted up at the stonework. Nah, that looked like…a castle. That being said, it looked more specifically like the castle he was looking for—the one that had been featured in Vlad Masters’s house tour in Architecture Daily magazine two years ago.  
Same…roof bits. Same big door. Danny swallowed. Same…tower? Were there better words for these? There were definitely better words for all the tricky stone bits in the castle.
Whatever. Danny was praying that the man was actually home today, as opposed to flying across the country on some kind of business trip. Rich people did business trips, right?
Danny floated up to the front door. There was no doorbell.
…Danny bit his lip. Okay. So there was no doorbell. There was a very large, brass door knocker. It looked kind of like a big monster face, with a ring held in its teeth.
The knocker was just high enough off the ground that Danny had to float to get there. Lifting it was a struggle.
When it knocked, the whole door buzzed with sound.
Danny waited.
…He waited.
And…Danny waited.
No one came.
Danny picked at the skin of his lip. What if he just…went in?
Like. It was a big house. Maybe Vlad Masters just hadn’t heard him at all? Maybe he was just…in the basement or something…?
Danny paced midair. On one hand. He’d come all this way. He had to follow through. He had to see if there was…something. Anything. Anything at all—anything that could possibly connect Masters to his family.
Any connection that wasn’t Aunt Alicia would be worth breaking and entering.
On the other hand. Home invasion was and would remain illegal.
Danny grimaced.
He…stuck his head through the door. 
There was a hallway on the other side. A little end table. A guest book. 
…Okay. Danny slipped through the door. He was breaking and entering now— or at least…entering. 
Inside was dark. Gloomy. Comfortable, sure— lots of soft furnishings, curtains, couches, pillow, lounging things— but very…opaque in atmosphere. 
He was glowing, he noticed. That probably was pretty bad on the “trying not to get caught” scale. 
There was no one upstairs. Danny drifted through room after empty room and up into floor after empty floor. There was a kitchen, and the food therein were largely preserved items. There was nothing in the fridge. 
Danny’s stomach cramped. There was no one here. 
…Maybe he should look downstairs? 
The castle got colder the further down he went. The windows that at least allowed the minimal light that escaped through the tree cover in the castle vanished. The only light left was Danny. 
Danny floated down deeper. 
There were doors made of metal in a long, stone hallway. Each had different numbers on them. Danny followed the rows of doors.
There were wires on the floor. They were organized by color and bound by little ties, until they weren’t, and Danny eventually ran out of tangled webs of red and blue plastic to follow. 
They ended at a closed door. 
Danny hesitated. He poked his head through. 
On the other side was a ghost. 
Danny jerked back. He’d— he clapped his hand over his mouth. That was—! And sure, Danny was something like that now, but he’d never seen—!
He should leave. Danny should leave. 
Danny barely made it three doors down. 
Going somewhere? something asked him. Danny shivered. 
The ghost appeared on his left in ethereal white, black hair pulled behind him in some sort of half-halo. Unlike Danny, who was in something like half-hazmat, half-hoodie, the ghost wore a long, glowing labcoat, appropriate PPE beneath. 
Danny’s breath fogged up in his mouth. He flinched. “Sorr—” he tried. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be here.”
The ghost looked at him with bright red eyes. Danny floated a few steps back. Spying, are you?
Danny shook his head. “No!! No, I just— I was looking for— I wasn’t spying! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you li— died here! I’ll leave!” 
The ghost’s head tilted. For a second, Danny thought that he was going to throw a punch. And then—
You’re already here, the ghost pointed out, and opened a door. Beyond it was…something similar to a doctor’s office. An examination table with the paper on it. One of those blood pressure cuffs, attached to a printer for the readout. A sink. Sundry tongue depressors. You may as well consent to be helped. 
“...Helped with what?” Danny asked nervously, fingers flexing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
The ghost hummed— not in the way voices hummed, but in the way high voltage sang in distant powerlines. You are newly formed, aren’t you? Most can tell a ghost’s nature from its presence alone.
Danny looked away. “Um. You know. You might be the first ghost I’ve ever met.” 
The ghost’s feet almost touched the ground. It stared down at him. It was taller than he was, and when it stared, it made Danny want to run away. 
…Truly, the ghost asked(?), and it took Danny a second to realize it was a question. 
“Maybe I died a little recently…” Danny tried, trailing off into a mumble. Was there a right answer to this? 
…I see. That would make this check-up more urgent, then. Might I encourage you to come this way? 
Danny followed him into the room. 
It felt… It looked and felt exactly like any other doctor’s appointment, excepting that the doctor involved in the process had blue skin and fangs and a hairstyle that defied gravity. The ghost still wore gloves and didn’t poke him or prod him too hard, though, so that was a bonus.
Danny got his pulse taken. (None.) Danny got his lungs checked. (Not breathing.) Danny got his resonance? looked at? Whatever that was? It was a big scanny thing that looked like an X ray and took pictures of his chest. 
The readings were real pretty, whatever they were; the whole film print was taken up with splotches of white and clear blue. It kind of shimmered when Danny tilted his head. 
You’re quite powerful for a newly formed ghost, the ghost offered, overlooking papers Danny couldn’t quite see on his clipboard. It flipped through once. Twice. You’re clearly not attached to your place of death, so that’s not why… Are you aware of any compulsions to follow an Obsession yet…?
A ghostly obsession? Danny knew what that was— it was one of his parents’ theories on why ghosts persisted after death! Was it was true? 
“Um,” Danny said, unsure. He hadn’t…had he? “Not that I know of?”
The ghost paused. It clicked its pen. It marked something down on Danny’s chart. Interesting.
Ominous. 
May I quickly test something? the ghost asked, looking up at Danny. It would only take a moment. If it does not work, there will be no other side effects other than mild discomfort and an activated flight response. 
Danny shifted. The paper crackled underneath him. “...Does it hurt?” 
No.
The ghost added nothing more. 
Danny’s…head jerked up and down. It was fine. It would be fine. 
The ghost’s hand circled his wrist. Its touch burned like fire. 
And then light, like how Danny burned away one form for another—
—Danny was left on the table, no longer weightless, no longer breathless. He was flesh. He was human again.
Vlad Masters stared back at him. 
…Huh. 
Mr. Masters— Vlad?— licked dry lips, staring at Danny, whose wrist he still held. Danny…didn’t know if he could move. Danny didn’t know if he knew how to move. 
“...Daniel?” Mr. Masters’s voice cracked. His eyes moved up and down Danny’s body, from his raggedy hair to his dirt-stained clothes to his beat-up shoes. “Daniel Fenton?”
Danny winced. “It’s just Danny,” he offered hoarsely. His throat bobbed. “You…know me?” 
Mr. Masters moved his grip to Danny’s hand, apparently moved to tears. Without the red in his eyes, he just looked…human enough. “Daniel— Danny, how did you— Are you dead? What happened?” 
Danny felt the weight of everything push down on him again, as if it had ever let up on him since the portal incident. Mom and Dad’s funerals. Jazz in the emergency room. Being resuscitated by the EMTs. Getting shipped out to Aunt Alicia’s house without warning. 
“House blew up.”
That was succinct enough, right?
The man’s face turned devastated. “I heard— I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, Danny.”
…It was more concern than anyone had shown in a long time. His eyes were wet before he knew it. When he wiped his face with his sleeve, the dampness was enough to leave little streaks of mud on his face— and, ugh, he felt filthy. 
“It’s okay,” Danny lied, because it wasn’t. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes. “It’s…you know my parents?”
Mr. Masters took a deep, surprised breath. “Yes. We…weren’t in contact after we graduated from school together, but Jack always… He asked me by email to be your godfather, right before you were born. I said yes, but I have no idea if he ever filed the paperwork.” 
Oh. 
…Oh. 
There were clearly more secrets here. Mr. Masters was a ghost, and so was Danny. He lived in a giant castle that was clearly haunted, which was made obvious by the owner. He was Danny’s godfather, and Danny had never once met him. 
And he wasn’t Aunt Alicia. 
Danny sucked the spit off of his teeth with his tongue. “Can I stay here?” 
Mr. Masters made a wounded, desperate expression. “I would rather you did.” 
“Can you teach me how to be a ghost?”
The man persevered through what were clearly heavy feelings. “...If I must.” 
“Can I have dinner?” was Danny’s final question. “Like. On the regular?” 
There was a second where Mr. Masters’s eyes went red. The castle suddenly felt taut with anticipation. Fury crawled on Danny’s skin. He could feel the pressure digging in search of some way to burrow into his flesh.
And then it was gone. 
“Of course you can. You are a growing boy.”
Danny smiled shyly, barely showing his teeth. When he smiled for real in the mirror, he had fangs. It was better not to. “Cool.”
Mr. Masters nodded. And when Danny looked down at the floor, he changed his grip so that Danny could hold his hand and hop down like normal. 
“It will be alright,” Mr. Masters promised quietly. It seemed to be just as much for him as it was for Danny. “Or…I’ll take care of it. Whatever happens. You’re not alone, Danny.” 
Danny had been alone for almost half a year. It had felt like forever. “Thanks.” He sniffed. 
They walked upstairs from the basement laboratory together, in a way Mom and Dad never would again. 
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sukunasdirtylaugh · 10 days
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university professor gojo who teaches ethics asks your class to please explain if 'anonymous' is a cyber terr*rist group? and the reader goes on, giving a detailed explanation on how this organization is unorganized and criminal, therefore unethical. little does she know, her professor who also happens to be madly obsessed with her is part of said group
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strawberryb-0-ba · 5 days
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DEAD BOY DETECTIVES BINGE ON SUNDAY AND MONDAY
Calling all Dead Boy Detectives, Good Omens, Umbrella Academy, OMFD, and Lockwood and Co Fans!!
As most of us know, the viewership is low and the show is gradually being removed from the top 10 series in States so, tell a friend, tell your family, tell your fish, to binge the entire show on Sunday(5th) and Monday (6th) around 12 pm to raise the viewership and to place it a bit higher on the top 10!
And if you have work or school, anything like that, please make sure to watch it later in the day.
Also if you’re thinking about watching the show, watch the full thing now!!!
SPREAD THE WORD, END THE CANCEL STREAK (on twitter, tiktok, and whatever)
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daemonhxckergrrl · 8 months
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hot take: trying things you've had adverse reactions to in the past (including full-on sensory-related meltdowns) to see if you may enjoy it now is good, actually. how you processed Bad Texture 10 years ago may be different to how you do now. or it may not. but the only way to know is to try.
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deeplyunnerving · 7 days
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when I first watched dead boy detectives I was like "oh this is pretty cute but I'm not crazy about the writing" but the more I think about it the more I get brain worms. like. it's everything.
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mexashepot · 7 months
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It's probably too early to discuss this but once this is all over - if this is ever over - we WILL have to discuss the gendered aspect of it
And I don't just mean the mass rape etc. and not even the women in leading security roles that everyone doubted when they were appointed but were actually the ones to save everyone's lives under fire
I mean the female observes who for FOUR MONTHS have been telling their male commanders that they were constantly noticing weird things over the border but were just dismissed and ignored for being hysterical?
Yeah, that
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fluorescentbrains · 6 months
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i know that the biden administration is um severely mishandling the situation to say the least but given the deranged shit all the republican candidates are saying about palestinians i don’t think abstention from voting is the move
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trainingdummyrabbit · 5 months
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parents are really fascinating creatures. theyll watch this thing they brung into existence Stop eating Stop cleaning Stop going outside Stop doing much of anything Without being able to explain and theyll go Hm. Clearly This Thing Is A Spoiled Brat.
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lameotello · 9 months
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I hate that we've gone from "don't like, don't read" and not caring about what fucked up shit is depicted in fan media as a standard to hypervigilance and having to mind your every word so the group you've found yourself in doesn't know you ship the Not HOA Approved Ship
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askfallenroyalty · 10 months
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Not that I needed a NEW project to work on but... Here's my Underfell take. Let's see where this goes.
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rickybaby · 5 months
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Daniel and the mystery of the missing tapes - Daniel talks about starting his own podcast
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lem0nademouth · 25 days
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i need leftists to cope with their post 9/11 + Iraq/Afghan wars Islamophobia guilt in a way that doesn’t involve erasing the fact that, like it or not, Islam is a proselytizing religion that has fueled centuries of colonization, genocide, and imperialism. idealizing Islam as a purer, better alternative to Christianity is in itself Islamophobic, and it also ignores the many communities who have suffered at the hands of Islamic imperialism. it is possible to not be Islamophobic while acknowledging that.
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stackyshenanigans · 6 months
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Woe! Cringe be upon ye
Watch me slowly get the hang of motion tracking lmao
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