#and no one has the genes (that we know of) for it

[axolotlsdreams]

I know hotlines and suicide prevention numbers don't feel like anything right now. But it is so important that we all stay alive. They WANT us dead. Every single person who opposes their worthless values. Those of us who accept that gender is something more than genes. People who only want what everyone else can have, the right to marry another consenting, loving adult and even start a family. Cultures and people who do not adhere to their precious White Anglo Saxon Protestantism. Women who will never submit to men.

If you need to, arm yourself. If they come for you, have some way to defend yourself. It's one of the only rights they've fought for us to have. As someone who now has to live with the fear of not only being SA'd but maybe one day being forced to carry out a pregnancy resulting from SA, getting a license has definitely been on my mind. I know it's easier said than done (and a given) but do everything in your power to get out of the danger zone, mainly the red states, find safer places and safer people (if half the country voted in the bigots, there is another half that didn't). There is safety and support in community.

The fewer Lesbian, Gay, Bi, Pan, Trans, Non-binary, Questioning, and Gender non-conforming people exist in their conformist hole of a country, the happier this new conservative regime will be. When our stories and experiences can no longer be shared, when there is no one left to educate, and when LGBTQ+ youth are left closeted and alone, then they will win.

Please, spread this for those who might need it right now

U.S. suicide hotline: call or text 988 (available 24 hours)

U.S. trans lifeline: (877) 565-8860 (when you call, you’ll speak to a trans/nonbinary peer operator. full anonymity and confidentiality)

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357) – provides 24/7 confidential support and referrals for individuals and families facing mental health and substance use disorders, including panic attacks and anxiety.

LGBT National Help Center: (888) 843-4564

Trevor Project: Call (866) 488-7386, text START to 678-678, or chat online.

Take care of yourself and each other. Please stay safe ♡

[benispunk]

Who's that girl?

Chapter 4: Before We Speak

Logan always has to be the strong figure, even when everything wants to fall apart.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W, mentions of dark backgrounds.

A/N: hello lovelies!! fourth chapter is up whoop whoop🎉. this one is entirely focused on Logan because why not? this is a day in our little honey badger's life and I'm not sorry for anything. it could have been way worse. thanks for all the support on this series!! enjoy this part <3

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist / Previous Part

Beep Beep Beep Be—

Sometimes Logan wondered how he still hadn’t destroyed that damn alarm clock. He woke up slowly, his body heavy from the comfort of sleep. Finally glancing at his worst enemy of his every morning, he read: 5:30 AM. Time to start the day.

He got up and opened the blinds, though the sun wasn’t up yet, and except for some other people in other buildings, nobody was up yet either. 

After a quick shower and pulling on some shirt and jeans, Logan grabbed his keys and backpack, trying not to make too much noise for his roommates that were probably still sleeping deeply.

You’ll sleep later, Logan.

As he stepped outside of the building, the cool morning air hit his face, waking him up fully.

Logan was the one in charge of opening the center and he preferred going there way earlier than everyone else just to get a moment of peace and calm before the chaos started. He checked every room and classes, making sure everything was ready for the day and once this was done, he sat down and served himself one well-deserved cup of (disgusting) coffee.

The center was a large, well-worn building. It wasn't much to look at from the outside—just a faded brick structure with narrow windows—but inside, it was full of life. Colorful posters lined the walls, some painted by the kids themselves, and inspirational quotes were scattered around, the kind that Logan never really cared for but knew meant something to someone.

The lounge area where he sat was small but cozy, with mismatched chairs and a sagging couch that had seen better days. A few shelves were filled with books and board games, and the corner had a coffee station that barely worked. Yet, this was his place— a refuge in the chaos.

Beyond the lounge, the rest of the center sprawled out: classrooms where kids of all ages learned in their own ways, sensory rooms with soft lights and calming music, a large gym where activities were held, and a garden out back where they often took the kids for fresh air. It was more than just a special school; it was a sanctuary for those who needed it.

As Logan scanned the room, his thoughts drifted. He wasn’t one to reflect much, but opening the center every day before anyone else arrived had become his ritual, a moment to prepare for the storm of the day ahead. Today would be like any other— he’d make sure the supplies were ready, the classrooms set, and his mind focused.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the hum of the automatic doors opening.

“Good morning, Logan.”

Logan’s daydream was interrupted by the familiar voice of Charles. The older man entered the lounge in his wheelchair, his presence as steady as ever. Charles had been the head of the center for as long as Logan could remember.

Logan nodded, setting down his coffee. “Morning, Charles.”

Charles wheeled himself closer, pausing just in front of Logan. “Early, as always. You know, you don’t have to get here before the sun’s up every day.”

Logan grunted in response, though there was a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Old habits die hard.”

Charles chuckled. “Well, I appreciate it. Keeps the place running smoothly.” He paused, glancing around the lounge, his expression softening. “How’s everything looking for today?”

Logan leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. “Classes are prepped, gym’s ready. Couple new kids starting this week, so I’ll be keeping an eye on them. Should be a normal day.”

Charles nodded thoughtfully, though there was something in his eyes that made Logan pause. “What?” Logan asked.

“Just thinking,” Charles said, his voice dropping a bit. “It’s a shame, isn’t it? All this work, and now…” He trailed off, and Logan knew exactly what he meant. The center was struggling. Funding cuts, low enrollment— there had been rumors for months now that they might not last much longer. It wasn’t the first time Charles had hinted at it, but hearing it out loud still hit Logan in the gut every time.

“We’ll figure it out,” Logan said, though even he wasn’t sure how much he believed it.

Charles nodded again, but there was a heaviness to the gesture. “I hope you’re right, Logan. For their sake.” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the classrooms, where the kids would soon arrive, full of energy and life.

Logan didn’t respond. He wasn’t one for long conversations, especially not ones that reminded him of things he couldn’t fix. Instead, he stood up and grabbed his coffee, raising it towards Charles in a silent gesture. “I’ll be in the gym.”

Charles watched him go, his expression unreadable.

The gym was Logan’s favorite part of the center. High ceilings, wide-open spaces, and the kind of place where he could let the kids run wild. He liked the controlled chaos of it all—kids bouncing off the walls, their laughter echoing, and the satisfaction of seeing them engage in a world that often felt too overwhelming for them. Here, they were free. Here, they were just kids.

As he stepped inside, Logan could already hear the hum of the day beginning. Soon the first teachers would trickle in. He checked the schedule on the clipboard hanging by the door, making mental notes of the day’s activities. But even as he planned, his thoughts lingered on Charles' words.

What if the center shut down? What would happen to the kids? What would he do?

He shoved the thought away for now, focusing on the present. There were kids to be taken care of today, and that's what mattered.

A sharp sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway, pulling Logan's attention to the door. The first wave of staff was arriving.

The first few kids arrived not long after them. Logan could hear their familiar voices echoing down the hallway, some excited, some grumpy from early wake-ups, but all of them ready to start their day. As they trickled in, Logan stood by the entrance to greet them.

"Morning, Bobby," Logan said as a boy with dark, tousled hair bounded through the door, his backpack almost as big as he was.

"Morning, Mr. Howlett!" Bobby called back with a wide grin, not slowing down as he headed straight for the gym.

Next was Kitty, one of the quieter students, who gave him a shy wave as she walked in, hugging her notebook to her chest.

"Morning, Kitty," Logan said softly, offering her a small smile. She nodded without a word, as always, but Logan could see the relief in her eyes. She always felt safe here.

The rest of the group trickled in—about a dozen kids in all, each with their own unique personalities and quirks. Logan knew them well, better than most. He could read their moods just by the way they walked in, and today seemed to be a good day. No tantrums, no meltdowns. Yet.

Once everyone was inside, Logan led them to the first class of the day. History wasn’t always the easiest subject to teach, but Logan had a way of making it work. He kept things simple, focusing on the stories behind the facts— because that’s what kids understood best, the stories.

As they settled into their seats, Logan stood at the front of the small classroom, a whiteboard behind him and a map of the world pinned to the wall.

"Alright, who remembers what we talked about last week?" Logan asked, his deep voice quiet but commanding enough to capture the attention of the room.

A few hands shot up— Bobby’s was the first, as always.

Logan nodded to him. "Go ahead, Bobby."

"We talked about Ancient Egypt! You said they had these huge tombs for their kings and queens, and they put all their treasures inside."

"That’s right," Logan said, crossing his arms and leaning against his desk. "The pyramids. But they didn’t just put treasures inside. What else?"

Kitty, who was usually too shy to speak up, raised her hand cautiously. Logan gave her an encouraging nod.

"Um, they put their pets inside too?" she said softly.

"Exactly. Sometimes pets, sometimes even servants." Logan smiled at her, watching her shoulders relax slightly. "Why do you think they did that?"

Bobby’s hand shot up again, but Logan pointed to a girl in the back who rarely spoke— Laura. The girl was staring at the map, lost in thought, but when Logan called her name, she blinked and looked around.

"Uh… because they thought they’d need them in the afterlife?" Laura said hesitantly.

"Right again," Logan replied. "They believed the afterlife was just another version of this life, so they wanted to bring everything with them that they’d need. It’s like packing for a trip, but instead of clothes, you’re bringing your pets and gold." He gave a small smile, which earned a few giggles from the class.

Logan continued the lesson, writing down some words on the board and telling stories of ancient rulers and their grand tombs. He kept the pace slow, knowing some of the kids needed extra time to process, and he made sure to check in with everyone throughout the lesson, gauging their engagement.

As the lesson wrapped up, the bell rang for the morning break, and the kids shuffled out of the classroom, excited to stretch their legs. Logan watched them go, making a mental note of who seemed engaged and who might need extra help later.

He was about to head out for a quick break himself when he noticed someone lingering by the door— Laura, the girl from earlier. She stood there, clutching the straps of her backpack, staring at the floor.

She had joined the center about a year ago, a girl with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue, quick to push people away before they could get too close. Her file said she’d been in and out of foster homes, and she had a history of acting out, of disappearing for days at a time. But Logan saw through it. She wasn’t just acting out for the sake of rebellion. It was survival for her. Trust didn’t come easy.

Each of these kids had been through so much stuff, things they didn’t deserve, things they weren’t even supposed to know at their age, and yet here they were, because the regular system wouldn’t take the risk of taking them in. That’s why this center existed, to help those kids and teenagers society had already rejected. 

They were only children. It broke his heart every single day.

Laura was always on edge, always watching. Logan noticed the way she sized people up, the way her eyes darted around the room like she was waiting for something bad to happen.

When she first started at the center, they had clashed. Logan’s patience and calm demeanor only seemed to irritate her more. She didn’t talk unless she had to, and even then, it was usually a one-word answer.

Today, Laura had been quiet. Too quiet.

Logan had learned to read her tells, and something was off.

As the bell rang for the break, she didn’t move. The other kids bolted out of the classroom like they always did, but Laura stayed behind, her eyes still fixed on the window, her jaw clenched.

Logan leaned against his desk, waiting until the room was empty before speaking. "You’re gonna miss your break if you sit there all day."

She didn’t respond. Typical Laura.

Logan watched her for a moment before crossing the room and sitting down in the chair next to her, his body turned toward her but giving her space.

"You alright, kid?" he asked, his voice low and calm, like he was talking to a wild animal he didn’t want to spook.

Laura’s gaze didn’t shift, but her grip on the edge of her chair tightened.

"I know you," she muttered after a long silence, her voice rough. "You’re just waiting for me to screw up again."

Logan sighed softly, shaking his head. "Not here to wait for you to screw up. I’m here to help you."

Laura scoffed. "Yeah, right."

Logan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You think I’m doing this for fun? Waking up at 5:30 every morning to come here because I got nothing better to do?"

She finally turned her head to look at him, her eyes narrowing like she was trying to figure out his angle.

"You don’t get it," she said, her voice harsh. "You don’t know what it’s like."

Logan met her gaze, unflinching. "Maybe I don’t know your exact story, but I’ve seen enough, and I know enough to get the picture. And I know you’re not alone, even if it feels like it."

Her eyes flickered for a second, something passing over her face before the hardened mask came back. She looked away, her jaw tightening again, and for a moment, Logan thought the conversation was over. But then she spoke again, quieter this time.

"I don’t wanna be here anymore," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Logan frowned. "What do you mean?"

Laura’s shoulders tensed, and she gripped the chair so hard her knuckles went white. "This place. This... stupid center. I don’t belong here. I can’t—" She cut herself off, shaking her head in frustration, as if the words were too much to get out.

Logan let out a slow breath. He’d seen this before— the tipping point where a kid was ready to run, because staying still felt too risky.

"You don’t have to do this alone," Logan said gently. "If it feels like too much, we can work on that. Together. But you gotta tell me what's really going on, Laura. Or Professor Xavier.  Anybody, really.»

For the first time, Laura’s mask cracked. Her eyes filled with frustration, but behind it, Logan could see the fear. The vulnerability she never let anyone see.

"I don’t belong anywhere," she muttered, her voice shaking. "No one gives a damn. Everyone leaves."

Logan stayed silent for a beat, letting her words sink into the space between them.

"That’s not true," Logan said softly. "You’re here. You’re fighting. You show up every day, even when it’s hard. That says a lot about you, more than you think."

Laura’s eyes flickered toward him, suspicious, but something about his tone made her stay.

"You know what I think?" Logan continued. "I think you’re stronger than you think. And if you want to talk, if you want to work through this... We’re all here. You don’t have to run."

Laura didn’t respond right away, but her shoulders slumped just a bit. The tension that had been coiling inside her all day seemed to ease, if only slightly.

"I don’t know if I can," she muttered.

Logan nodded, standing up slowly and giving her space. "You don’t have to decide today. Just know that the door’s open whenever you’re ready."

He started walking toward the door, expecting her to stay where she was, but then he heard her voice again, small and uncertain.

"Logan?" she asked, and for the first time, she used his name instead of calling him "Mr. Howlett."

"My name is Logan but for some legal reason you have to call me Mr.Howlett," he would say on the first day of school every year.

He turned around, his brows raised.

"Thanks," she said quietly, her gaze dropping back to her hands.

Logan nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Anytime, kid."

As he left the room, he felt a familiar heaviness settle in his chest, one that always came after a conversation like that. The weight of seeing a kid like Laura— someone who was so close to falling through the cracks, struggling to keep her head above water.

But for now, at least, she was still fighting. And Logan would be there to help her keep going, one step at a time.

As Logan left the classroom, the conversation with Laura replayed in his mind, lingering like a heavy weight on his chest. It was the kind of talk that always stuck with him, reminders of the pain these kids carried, the damage they fought to keep hidden.

He walked down the empty hallway, each step feeling slower, heavier. His usual routine of checking on classrooms and prepping for the next lesson seemed far away. All he could think about was Laura’s words, her quiet admission that she didn’t think she belonged anywhere, and how familiar that feeling was.

Logan knew that weight all too well.

He pushed open the door to the staff lounge, needing a moment to collect himself. The clock on the wall told him there were still ten minutes before the next class. It wasn’t enough time to shake this feeling, but he’d take what he could get.

Sinking into one of the chairs, Logan rubbed his hands over his face, trying to push the conversation out of his mind. But it wouldn’t leave him. It never did. It wasn’t just Laura. Every kid at the center carried a similar burden. They all had their demons, their scars. And each one of those conversations weighed him down, little by little.

It was part of the job, but that didn’t make it any easier.

The faint sound of a bell rang out in the hallway, signaling the start of the next class. Logan stood up slowly, taking a deep breath before heading out to meet his students. He had to pull it together. For them.

But as he walked back into the classroom, the weight of the conversation with Laura still clung to him like a dark cloud.

The day dragged on, and no matter how hard Logan tried to focus, his mind kept drifting back to the look on Laura’s face— the fear and vulnerability hidden beneath her tough exterior. He kept thinking about how much these kids reminded him of his own past, his own battles.

By the time the final bell rang, Logan was exhausted. Not from the physical strain, but from the emotional toll the day had taken on him. 

Just as he was packing up to leave, he spotted Wade through the classroom window. He was standing there with a goofy grin on his face, holding up a small box of donuts and a coffee.

But something felt... off. Wade’s smile didn’t reach his eyes like it usually did. He looked tense, distracted. Logan frowned but said nothing at first.

Wade sauntered into the classroom, his usual bravado on full display. “Hey, I come bearing gifts. You looked like you could use a sugar rush.”

Logan took the coffee, eyeing Wade carefully. “Thanks, man. You okay?”

Wade waved off the question with a laugh that sounded a little too loud. “Me? Of course! I’m always okay. What’re you talking about?”

Logan didn’t press further, but he wasn’t convinced. Wade’s humor had always been a shield, something to hide behind when things got too real. He knew that well enough by now.

"Alright," Logan said quietly, breaking off a piece of the donut and offering it to Wade. "If you say so."

Wade took the donut with a shrug, as if nothing was wrong, but Logan could see the tension in his shoulders. They sat there in silence for a while, chewing slowly. Wade broke the silence first, launching into one of his stories—something about a weird couple at last night’s gig and how he had to improvise a joke to get out of an awkward heckling situation.

Logan just nodded along, smirking occasionally at Wade’s antics. He wasn’t much of a talker, especially compared to Wade, but they had their dynamic down by now. Wade talked, Logan listened. That was how it worked. It wasn’t until Wade’s voice grew a little more strained that Logan felt the crack in his friend’s usual confidence.

As they walked out of the center, Wade was still rattling off his story, his words slightly more rushed than usual.

“I swear, man, if this one guy hadn’t backed off, I would’ve—"

“You sure you’re okay?” Logan asked again, cutting him off, his voice quieter this time, more concerned.

Wade immediately put his mask back on, laughing a little too loudly again. “Of course! Stop worrying about me, peanut. You’ve got your own crap to deal with. Speaking of which, how’s it going with Y/N, huh? Been hanging out together without me, yet?”

Logan rolled his eyes, though Wade’s obvious attempt to change the subject didn’t go unnoticed. “She’s our roommate, Wade.”

“Sure, sure,” Wade said with a wink. “Got it.”

Logan let it go. Pushing Wade wouldn’t get him anywhere. They’d been through this before. He’d talk when he was ready, and when that time came, Logan would be there.

Back at the apartment, the scent of something delicious greeted them as soon as they walked in the door. Y/N was in the kitchen, apron on, stirring a pot of what looked like some kind of stew.

“Hey, perfect timing,” she called over her shoulder. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Logan grunted a small thank you, setting his bag down by the door, but Wade was, as always, much more dramatic.

“Y/N, you absolute angel,” Wade gushed, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “I don’t deserve this! But I’ll take it.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing up at them both. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” Wade replied, but his usual humor seemed thinner, more like a front than ever before. He shot Logan a quick look, as if daring him to say anything. Logan just gave a subtle shake of his head and headed into the living room.

The shadows of the day lingered, tightening around him. He settled onto the couch, his mind racing back to Laura’s quiet admission. It was hard to shake the feeling that he was somehow failing her, as if his own past could offer her a lifeline he wasn’t made to provide.

Wade followed him in, his usual bravado on display but lacking its usual spark. “Hey, did you hear me? I was talking about the heckler,” Wade said, attempting to recapture the lightness that had slipped away from him.

“Yeah, I heard you,” Logan replied, trying to match Wade's tone. He could feel the edges of his own thoughts creeping in, threatening to overshadow their banter. “Sounds like you handled it well.”

“Of course! I’m the best,” Wade said with a grin, though it faltered slightly as he caught Logan’s gaze. “Seriously though, what’s up? You’ve been quiet. Did your kids hit you with one of those heavy questions again?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but the words stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to drag Wade into his emotional turmoil, especially when his friend was clearly wrestling with something of his own. Instead, he forced a small smile. “Just a long day.”

Wade nodded, his gaze scrutinizing. “You know, you could talk about it, right? We’re here for you.”

Logan shrugged, the weight of Wade’s words hitting harder than expected. He appreciated Wade’s willingness to listen, but he also felt that familiar instinct to shield his friend from the darkness that came with his memories. “I’m good, really.”

Just then, Y/N emerged from the kitchen, carrying a pot. “Dinner’s ready!” she announced, her smile brightening the room. It smelled delicious. He loved that she was settling so well into their dynamic.

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re the best,” Logan said, feeling a warmth spread through him at her kindness.

Wade leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms with a playful smirk. “You’re amazing,” he gushed, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “You might be my favorite roommate I’ve ever had.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing between them. “Just trying to make something nice. Hope it’s okay!”

“Looks great,” Logan assured her, though he could see the uncertainty flickering in her eyes. She was still getting used to their routine, just as he was getting used to having her around.

As they gathered around the table, Logan focused on the meal, the rich aromas helping to distract him from his thoughts. Wade filled the silence with jokes and stories. Logan nodded along, trying to engage, but he could feel the tension in Wade’s shoulders, just as he sensed it in his own.

After dinner, as Y/N began to clear the table, Logan stood up to help her. “Let me take those,” he offered, reaching for the plates.

“Thanks,” she replied, her eyes meeting his briefly. He appreciated her easy smile, the way she brought a sense of warmth to their home, but he was still aware of how new everything felt.

Wade lingered at the table, looking at both of them with an unreadable expression. “You two sure seem cozy over there,” he teased, but there was a hint of something more serious in his tone.

Logan glared at him from the kitchen as the man just winked.

Bastard.

Once the table was cleared, they settled onto the couch. Logan leaned back, taking a moment to breathe. He felt the weight of the day settle in once more, but he was grateful for the distraction of Y/N and Wade. No matter how heavy the conversations, he knew he wasn’t alone in this.

“Alright, what’s next? Movie night?” Wade suggested, a little too brightly.

“Sounds good to me,” Y/N replied.

Logan nodded, grateful for the opportunity to escape, even if just for a little while. They flicked through the channels, laughter and light banter filling the room, but a part of Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadows were still lurking just beyond the surface. Still, for now, he had this moment— this family —and it was enough.

XXX

[daybreakerangel]

I am going to discuss about the Hazbin leaks because I can, and I want to think about something that NOTHING to do with the election. This is just me rambling.

Lucifer being a dick to Alastor out of nowhere make me dislike him to bit. Al is just minding his business and Lucifer insecure ass calls him Bambi and shit. I do not even like Al that much and I understand why he said fuck it and quit. I would too.

That song with Rosie and Al has racist lyrics in it with Rosie telling Al to act like a dog and that he is a part of her zoo. I know all the overlords are slave owners but having lines like that referring to a mixed Black character is a CHOICE.

I am TRIED of the bad dads/daddy issues in the Helluva. Every single father minus Millie’s dad are horrible or neglectful people. Lute saying Adam never liked Abel makes me mad. Are you telling me the FATHER of humanity did not give a fuck about his own son? Bullshit. I am fine with Adam being a shitty person to everyone around him but his saving graced should have been his family. He is the first father, I guess his is the root of all daddy issues too. 🙄

Anyway, I am glad Abel is plus size like his father. Adam is the carrier of the fat gene. Lmao. I wonder if people will debate if Abel is or is not fat too! /s

People are thinking that Abel is probably gay given his Santa Claus line in Emily’s Heaven song and Adam’s dislikes of his own son is because he is a homophobe. The idea of this being canon is probably likely. Given his line about finding Charlie and Vaggie’s relationship “hot”, I guess he is the type of homophobe that fetishizes WLW relationships but hates MLM ones.

This is just me thing, but I dislike when homophobia is in Queer media. I just want more queer joy stories than queer people facing bigotry stories. I just Adam maybe was more of a politically Incorrect villain than a politically correct villain.

Adam being a misogynist in Heaven was already weird, but it tracks since Lute was not allowed to be the new leader, misogyny is a part of Heaven’s core values, I guess. Him being a homophobe would be awful; homophobia exists in Hell (for example: Kate Killjoy) but in Heaven too? Queer people cannot escape homophobia even in paradise?

I liked to think Adam came up with exterminations to just let out the anger he felted because of Lucifer basically fucking up his line and to protect the family he still had from Hell’s uprising. Abel not expressing any real emotion when learning that his father was murdered and just saying “RIP” is just sad. If Abel knows his father dislike him, why he is taking up his father's role as the leader?

Adam being a shitty person is fine, but he never cared about his own son. Was he always piece of shit since Eden? BOO!! Bad character writing! Adam becoming morality fucked up makes more sense than "He was trash since the start of his creation!" Are you telling me that Heaven knows Adam is shitty and never corrected that behavior to the point he became a manchild? No wonder no one gave a damn by his death, he was rotten from the start.

Eve is still IMA and same goes for Cain and the rest of his children. I swear when Eve finally makes her appearance and she says that Adam was an abuser, I will start to dislike him.

I am glad that Adam is dead. I really hope that he never comes back, I just feel like his character will go downhill even more. I like the idea of him becoming a sinner as a punishment for all the bullshit he done and that he would never allow to enter Heaven. I wanted Adam to SUFFER. I hope sinner Adam stays in fanon.

Lute's song has a cool instrument, but I wish she had more character out of Adam. I do not really care about her being heartbroken by his death because we did not see their friendship that much, so it does not have that much emotional weight to it.

Adam's rizz levels were off the charts to have Lute loses her mind over HIM out of all people. I like Adam but nah he is not boyfriend material at all. It is nice to a character having a crush on a plus size character, Lute wanted that fat man BADLY. It would have been nice if imagine Adam was maskless. It gives me that vibes that Lute only like him when he had the mask on instead of his actual face.

My relationship with this show is complicated. There is stuff in it I like and stuff I just dislike. The writing of the show being all over the place is fascinating but also awful. If the fandom was not so creative and writes these characters with so much care, I would not be here. I am more a fan of the fanon content than the actual show sometimes.

I feel like when Hazbin ends, it is going to remember in such a negative light and a prime example on how to not write a story or characters.

I feel like I will not be a fan before season 3 airs, I hope that does not happen but yeah. If you see a whole bunch of Hazbin shit being listed on the secondhand market after Season 2 is over, that will probably be me.

[shortkinglogan]

Actually bringing his back to try and explain it better because I looked at this and realized I should have eaten before trying to talk about this, I'm very bad at explaining things.

Anyway the basic idea is that evolution is a tree, some body plans die off some evolve and adapt and some stay mostly unchanged, it's not a linear advancement to a specific body plans.

You can see how that works in the one zoom tree thing I linked above it's really cool actually it even lets you search a specific species and has extinct animals as well.

I don't know much about genetics but I do know if mutants evolved from a different animal than apes, they wouldn't be able to make offspring with any homo genus, even if they evolved the exact same body plans as homosapiens and other hominids (hominids being other "human" species like neanderthal and homo erectus) if a humanoid mustelid tried to mate with a hominid it'd go as well as a wolf with a fox, which is to say, no babies.

So for this to make sense, either mutants are just another branch of hominid, and are also in the great ape family, OR, the X-gene came from a more distant relative of apes, but not too distant.

that's why I chose shrews, between their very weird adaptations and superpowers that most mamals don't have, and the fact that they are the closest related non ape mamals to humans, tells me that it could be possible that the X-gene that would also be present in modern shrews explaining their crazy adaptations (in the comics universe) and be evidence for a theory, in which;

Mutants descended from a shrew like animal closely related with the rodents that eventually evolve into humans and they had hybridized offspring and continued to do so with this other species evolving along side it until both were near indistinguishable from each other.

This would mean there would also be branching of both where you get superpowered ape, rodent, and shrew species with the X-gene, though probably less present in ape and rodent populations than shrews because of humans being closer to apes and mutants being closer to shrews.

Tbh I hope this makes more sense, but it still feels off to me, I'm not sure if it's actually possible for two closely related species to evolve like that with each other but sperate and still maintain the ability to mate and evolve the same body plans, but then again, we are talking about comics where a mutation can manifest with puberty and range from growing colorful fur to being able to read minds and lift objects with your brain, so I guess anything is possible 😆

An important thing to note is that Logan is not human! Yes, he looks human but he isn't. He is a feral mutant. He is his own species.

My theory how the feral mutants were created is that they evolved from canines and mustelids rather than apes. So alongside the Neanderthals they were these beings and they carried the X-Gene and mated with the modern human thus creating the mutants that Logan's paternal side of the family descends from.

And Logan has a lot of animals qualities. He has claws, little fangs and is nocturnal. He hunts and has keen senses. Yes, he is civilized from living among humans but trigger him enough and he will growl at you.

And Wade accepts that. He accepts Logan for who and what he is, rather than tell him what he should and shouldn't be. (Unlike Kayla and Stryker cough cough) And Logan finally learns to love himself, something he hasn't done in all his lifetime

[wolvebonez]

hypothetical fawn golden shaded grizzle!

Soooo as I have mentioned briefly I am in a wcrp, in which said wcrp uses genetic terms & has a genetic roller for rp. someone came in and asked what THIS beast might look like

And so I figure I'll share what I came up with since it took me So Fucking Long and I do think enough ppl who follow me might be interested!!

This is the end result!! I will be copy/pasting my explanation & inserting more images below

Im going to be using more basic explanations of a gene and only in relation to how they apply to this cat so im not writing 5 million word

To start, we have a regular fawn ticked tabby!

Wideband then makes the hairs of the cat have more pheomelanin (golden/background color) and less melanin (fawn color), as well as usually restricting the melanin to the tip of the hair.

Theeennnn we introduce silver (as seen below), which reduces the amount of pigment found in the pheomelanin; when combined with wideband making a cat look particularly pale (since any melanin in the wideband-effected hairs can also be broken up/less "solid," it can result in melanin looking more diluted/warm, it can also visually lighten the melanin areas on a cat.) I probably should've made the pale parts more desaturated at this point but ignoring that….

This is where we get Really Hypothetical!

As far as I'm aware we don't really know what chausie grizzle is or does. I've seen sources like messybeast (lol) claim that it is just silver-tipping found in black chausies/melanistic jungle cats but I dissagree. I personally believe a theory [User] initially mentioned to me is more probable; the idea that it is moreso the expansion of agouti; Potentially making the tabby hairs of the cat have more melanin than normal. (Maybe also restricts it towards the base of the hair to explain the satin-like appearance it can have?)

So…given that they basically would have the opposite effects assuming that this is true, there's really no saying how they'd interact. They could cancel eachother out, one could be dominant over the other, ect… There's also no telling which one of these options is more likely.

I went with the idea that the grizzle would be more dominant/have more effect, but that the wideband could potentially still be in effect where the grizzle seems to be least present (around the belly & flanks) which kind of breaks up the solid-ness of most grizzle cats (since grizzle does vary a lot.)

Silver would still work the same throughout all of this & make the phaeomelanin a lighter almost-white color. (There's a potential grizzle also does this too? But. shrug.) …Again I really should've made the light yellow color more silver-colored but i digress.

Now we have colorpoint! Also have no clue if it'd have some weird secret surprise fucked up effect on grizzle but it does seem to be a fairly reliable gene in that it is just a form of albinism so it should have a similar or same effect on everything. It just inhibits colors in the warmer areas of the body & allows it in the colder parts (thus, extremities!)

....And from there you've guys seen what I did when I added the thai white! Not sure how DBE would effect it, but I made my best guess & it wasn't the most important part of this . adventure jdbhjhg

Oh, bonus picture of my canvas with the most refs i've ever used for one piece lol. (Digital piece, anyway. Ceramics is another thing entirely....)

shoutout to @/felinefractious for sourcing pretty much all of said refs lmao

[icecreampizzer]

a respite from devotion, for devotion

text is from this tumblr post

[spiderwarden]

The fact Minthara would be acting a little odd socially in Drow society, being just attributed to the fact her mother - Sos'umptu, was by all the accounts that are written about her, a social hermit, feels fitting somehow.

The way no one questioned her eventual discconnect at pleasure parties or disassociative stare in the middle of the noble talk. The way she would silently grieve the people she thought she could love or be her friends, because she wanted that familial and friendly connections so badly and no one recognized it. Oh, it's just High Priestess Sos'umptu's daughter, this is to be expected.

[worrywrite]

To be clear, I am spit balling what-ifs here.

But I do have some ideas because of this response.

So, what Harrows parents did isn't siphoning per se. Siphoning extracts thalergy (? I get them mixed up every time, I might mean thanergy here) from a living creature with consent. But the neurotoxin killing cells (because it is living cells dying that produces it, not specifically people) produces thanergy which is much wilder and harder to harness when released and so you either need an insane level of mastery to harness it or an absurd abundance of it to harness what you need to do something like making a fetus a necromancer. So what I'm actually positing here in my what if is less "what if they just siphoned Gideon" and more of "what if they scarred Gideon for life, physically, and made her an immortal thanergy tap for their daughter." The 200 other kids died too, they got fated into Harrows life. But the reason it worked is because the volume of thanergy was so absurd. 200 kids on its own produces a lot, way more than enough if you have insane levels of control and mastery. But Gideon is also straight up at least 50% immortal and her cells don't die like they should (or if they do they regenerate at a stupid rate, which I feel like is more accurate based off of the few times we see her fight with serious wounds). That's fact. But exposing her to neurotoxin still might have released thanergy, and I'm saying it was likely well in the range of 100x what they were expecting.

Now, what necromancy actually is, is not well known for us as readers. I personally think it's a combination of biological mutation to be able to detect thanergy and thalergy (like a mutation in the optic nerve) combined with a certain sort of spiritual corruption or mutation that allows for the direct manipulation of those energies. And that's why you can get situations like Pyrrha, Nona, and Camilla who have varying degrees of mismatched bodies and souls with limited capacity for necromancy.

Anyway, what I'm saying is that Gideon might well have a recessive gene for the physical mutation because she's descended from a first generation necromancer, and she may well have the complete (and probably enhanced) spiritual mutation. And normally this wouldn't work, but she also has a few things going for her. Namely, she's John and Wake's kid. So the mismatching wouldn't harm her as much or at all due to her physical resilience.

I have a theory that the sicklyness of the nine houses is less to do with them being able to do necromancy and more to do with them being exposed to the undead sun. They live in an undead solar system, thanergy is leeching into everything. It's the essence of death and dying and decay. It's going to make them physically weaker. Not all at once, of course, but gradually over the course of the many generations of the myriad. They're not getting that same vitamin d anymore. They're getting the solar radiation form of mountain dew.

But Gideon is essentially a genetic foreigner. No generational deterioration. If anything, she's the most human human in the universe by modern standards. No one in her family line was ever reincarnated with necromancy (ish, im iffy on if John ever really died in a literal way, since it wasn't required for his lyctorhood even if it's sort of symbolically implied), or lived among the nine houses in proximity to the undead sun.

And, you know. The more I think about it. The weirder it is that the sun is relying on John's power to keep on. Because the sun doesn't have living cells, not in an organism or a planet way. The sun is a dense pocket of gasses that has stuck together to the point of creating a self sustaining fusion reaction (primarily hydrogen, helium, and argon? I think? Actually I've checked and it's mostly just hydrogen and helium, and some other elements). Anyway it's weird that the sun isn't self sustaining anymore. If the physical elements to make a star are still there in enough volume to be a star it should be self sustaining. So... Maybe it isn't actually a star anymore? Maybe it's just sort of a glowing mass? Like a really big and heavy grow light. Just dense enough to keep the gravitational forces of the solar system in check, but no longer sustaining nuclear fusion reactions and emitting the proper life giving spectra.

That was a detour. Sorry. What I'm saying is, generations of no real sunlight have caused genetic degradation in the nine houses. Gideon does not have that. Gideon also can't see or sense thanergy and thalergy, which would be a problem, except that you kind of need both the physical and the spiritual change for either to work.

I'm going to continue my scar theory here and say that a traumatic enough wound, even when healed, could have been enough to alter Gideons body to the point where she could no longer perceive or benefit from the mutation that allows necromancer to detect life and death energy. If she has it at all, that is. Being the daughter of John, I'm confident she has whatever spiritual changes needed to do necromancy, but she doesn't exhibit any of the physical changes needed. Maybe the low physical health is part of it, maybe it isn't, but whatever physical thing sets necromancer apart Gideon doesn't have it (at least anymore). I guess the short of this theory is "what if she had it, but the neurotoxin incident damaged her to the point she lost it."

Man I could have said that a lot more efficiently. Wild, though. Right?

What if Harrow is, not just a powerful necromancer, but a necromancer at all because her parents actually successfully drained it off of baby Gideon while she was being exposed to neurotoxin.

What if Gideon was or was supposed to be a necromancer. And they took that from her and gave it to Harrow.

What if Harrow has been living off a small and quiet siphon of her horrible situationship her whole life. Not just making her suffer because they're stuck together in a small dying colony, by because it is part of her nature.

What if the 200 other children did next to nothing, but a sliver of Gideon made all the difference. Harrows parents wouldn't have been able to do anything at all without that sliver, it should have been impossible. They were deranged. They were insane and desperate in the way that only religious zealots can be. But they just so happened to accidentally be in possession of a portion of their gods power made flesh.

Or, maybe the worst possible theory of the neurotoxin incident. What if the neurotoxin didn't make it through the vents at all. The aunts did it wrong, and most of it blew back at them. But the reverend father and reverend mother didn't know that, how could they have, they expected there to be a large explosion of thanergy, and it was just Gideon. Just Gideon, nestled up right next to the vent where only a gasp of toxin came through and went right to get her and her alone. And, like some natural reflex, she sucked dry the life force of 200 children to survive. And the reverend father and mother just sucked on the dregs of that. They didn't actually succeed at anything. Harrow was never the product of a small genocide. It was just Gideon. Just a child with godly power sleeping, blissfully unaware they were a monster the whole time.

[whatisthisnonsense]

"mutants are poc analogy" "mutants are queer analogy" Listen, X-Men and as such mutants as a whole should really be disability representation, and I mean representation and not analougous to it they just occassionally also get to blast ice while having furniture not built for them, struggles with keeping their mind in the present, and constantly having people casually discuss sterilizing or euthanizing them and being considered either dangerous or simply incapable of understanding when they get mad about this. But nobody is ready for this conversation.

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

is it wrong that i live for genetic based magic

maybe???? but i can’t care 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

i can’tttttt care cause it’s so devious

like… what does it mean for our magical POV characters who are so new to this shit? what does it mean for future societal development? and what did it mean for past societal development?

[galacticrain]

It's not a demon slayer au without demons to slay

[marsbotz]

think i got spoiled for life on mars bc i wanted to make a stupid fucking post abt gene x sam hatesex. TWICE spoiled

[imagineagreatadventure]

tbh one of the reasons losing my mom 'early' is so hard is because typically in our family we live a long time. like i've done the research!! even back in the 1600s we were hitting our 80s and 90s. we must have the long life gene on my mom's side (across branches) save a few people and circumstances (but even then the ages were typically late 60-70s instead, people weren't dying at 50 or 60). like my mom's mom is still alive even with a bajillion different cancers residing in her body. so we're just not mentally prepared for losing her in her 60s when her cancer filled mom is near 80 and all of her grandparents were basically 79-100 when they died.

like other than an accident (which I guess you could argue that cancer is an accident of the body) we just didn't expect this to happen. and even with cancer.... like my nana is still here, she still is kicking despite having a million cancers since she was 49. in fact, my first distinct memory of my nana is her wearing the most atrocious red wig imaginable and scaring the shit out of me as a small child.

and she's still here! because her cancers have been able to be cut out. and my mom's hasn't for the most part. and it's just infuriatingly bad luck. because my mom has been healthy for the most part other than this. but that's been the case for almost everyone i've lost in the last few years. they were all in good health until they weren't.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

eddie bracken as orville wingait in summer stock (1950)

[dirt-str1der]

Trans kiryu is a genuinely funny hc because like trans majima is like oohh angst ohh she has to fight to be accepted she has to deal with people making fun of her for being a man in a dress she has to take into account her position and social standing and kiryu is literally just kiryu forever because the universe loves him too much to ever force him into a situation unless its to go to prison in which case hes like yayyy i love jail yayy yayyy

[lenjaminmacbuttons]

does anyone have any woman's relationship with her mother leads her to descend into madness movie recs