#snkts

[hraunwyf]

♡♡

@snkts

two hearts? i give you two.

1: in middle school, i got the top prize in the accelerated reader program one year, because all i ever did was read, cus other kids sucked and i was undiagnosed. when i got my little trophy with its little label for my prize for Read So Good? it was misspelled: "Accelrated Reader".

2: i get piercings when i travel places, most of the time. both my first lobe piercings, which are now stretched, and my secondary lobe piercings were done on home turf, but i had my septum pierced in new york while visiting @supermantm, my double nostrils done in liverpool, and my brow pierced in minneapolis with @sfaradi.

[ablinkntime]

"What do you mean, we can't send him home?"

Her hand smacked down on the console, the images shook and distorted before resolving themselves. They were in the process of sending all those Wolverines back to their respective realities -- the ones who'd survived, of course, and the bodies of the ones that they'd been able to find (that hadn't gotten devoured by zombie Logan, good Lord) -- and they were close to finished, when they ran into a pretty significant snag. Victor was scowling at his wrist as the Tallus lit up, squawking in his mind with an update on the situation which he'd relayed to the rest. To say Clarice was upset was an understatement.

"I'm just tellin' you what the thing told me. Look." A claw tapped one of the displays and it showed the line representing the timeline where one James Howlett, the tiny scrap of a kid who'd managed to finish off Brother Mutant, originated. The line was already fraying, unraveling at the edges. "If we send him back now, knowin' what he knows, knowin' what he can do, it'll throw his whole timeline off. He ain't even s'posed to know he has claws yet, much less all'a the other stuff." Victor grimaced -- the facts of a Logan's life seemed to always start at the same origin point. The one they'd known had told a similar story to the one young James had explained in brief, naive terms. It sucked -- and what's worse, now that James knew what he was capable of, it would throw the entire trajectory of his life off. Send him down a path that would ultimately unravel his entire world.

Clarice frowned, tracing a finger along the unwinding line. "… What does it say he'll do?" she asked in a quiet, somewhat hollow voice.

"Nothin' good." Victor's arms folded over his chest and he glanced over his shoulder, where Morph was currently attempting to entertain young James. How that nightgown had survived and come out mostly blood-free was anybody's guess. "Let's just leave it at that an' consider him a resident. He ain't active duty."

"He absolutely is not. He's -- what, thirteen, at the most? Shards, Mister Creed, he's…"

"About the age I found you, yeah."

Clarice was shaking, though whether it was from anger or sorrow, she couldn't quite put a finger on. The hand Victor put on her shoulder only quelled it a little. "How do we tell him, Mister Creed? How do we tell that kid he can't go home?"

"Same way we told the others. Maybe dull the edges a little, but… the runt's always been tough, even at that age. You saw how the little bastard clawed me up when we had ta haul him off that Brother Mutant yahoo…"

"… Still." Sighing, she leaned gently into the hand on her shoulder before stepping out from under it. "I guess… better to get it done with and… see how he reacts."

Rip off the bandage, one might say. Clarice might say it was the lesser of two evils -- nothing good, in her experience, had ever come from concealing or even fudging the truth. Better to just come clean, get it over with, and be there to help pick up the pieces. Didn't make her feet move any faster down the stairs as she headed over to where Morph had decided to try his hand at jokes.

"… C'mon, squirt, this one never fails -- why didn't the skeleton cross the road?"

Clarice put her hands on her hips, rolling her eyes at Morph. "Because he didn't have the guts -- come on, Morph, you could at least try to be original."

"What!! He's from the dark ages, he's sure to appreciate the classics!"

"Morph--" She pinched her septum. "Please go figure out if those damn bugs are causing any more trouble. I need to talk to young Mister Howlett."

"Okey-dokey!! Bye, little buddy." Before he went, Morph gave James's hair a rough ruffle, and then took off in the shape of a gigantic flyswatter to terroroize the Timebreakers.

"Don't mind him," she said, watching him go with a little giggle. "He's just a weirdo, but he's our weirdo. We tolerate him because he makes us laugh." She held out a hand to young James, her smile softening somewhat. "Take a walk with me? There's something I need to talk to you about."

@snkts

[homelander-rp-blog]

Continue from here. @snkts

finding the man was pretty easy, so to say. When you’re rich, you can have anything you want including the information of where is the location of that big, bad Wolverine who usually stays off radar. Homelander is in desperate need to find his boy, just who told him there are kids like him that are running north?! How the hell he found out about it?! Why he left at all?! Alright, maybe the state is rapidly becoming a dangerous place for supes like them but he and his boy are different! They could survive! There’s zero reason for him to run away from his dad..

The bar’s space is stuffy and heavy with sweat, beer and cigarette smoke, almost overwhelming when he steps inside. Sure, he did some searches, but wasn’t completely hopeful to find the man. His heart skips a beat when he catches the side of that iconic profile with messy hair like pointed ears and the ‘animal’ scent, when everyone thinks he’s dead, he’s sitting right here, drinking.

He occupies the stool right next to him and orders beer, not for himself but for the man sitting at his side. “friend, I wouldn’t be here if I had someone who actually gives a shit.” His snort comes out more sorrowful than anything. “… heard you’ve been busy these past month. Something about ‘supe kids’” he drops the words and sits back to see how the man reacts..

[ncrosha]

؟ :)

Send me a ؟ for a random thought my muse has about yours.

"... how weird would it be to ask him to join a book club. like, an immortal book club. for immortals. like what if we meet up once every month and read a book and then talk about the book. and then like, do that forever. my mom used to do that. wait, is that a mom thing? no i think david was in book club and i know there was a book club in my old highschool, i beat some of those kids up.

anyway off topic. book club. i think he's lonely and i know i'm lonely but i don't wanna get blown off again if i reach out, and also i need something for stability or i'm gonna go crazy and then he's gonna have to try to stab me and then he's gonna be all, 'sorry to do this bub' and i'm gonna be like ha ha fat chance bub, and then he's gonna be like oh no josh you're awesome terrible powers totally beat my knife hands and i'm gonna be like dude i know they are terrible and snap out of it before i like, kill him or something. hopefully.

... okay i'm gonna ask him if he's read little women because i totally saw laura reading it last week and then i'll be like okay cool i'm trying to diversify my reading and i wanna talk, do you wanna talk, and then double down and say i invited laura using the whole 'hey remember when you watched me die' guilt trip and then we will have a book club.'

[emmatriarchy]

"I made cake! Happy Father's day!"

for @snkts

[freezegirl]

totally correct quotes ft. logan howlett / @snkts

[mcarter]

@snkts

When Peggy had joined the war effort, she -- like so many others -- simply wanted to help. Call it patriotism or propaganda; whatever it was, she'd heard the siren-song and wasn't long before she signed her name on the dotted line. Yet she'd never have guessed she'd end up here -- Captain Carter, parading through the warfront in a uniform with her country's flag dead center. Not exactly stealth, though she knew that wasn't really the point of it all.

She sat upon her shield, which she'd thrown down in the mud to protect her arse, her suit and hair drenched in rain and sweat. Another victory for the Allies, another piece of hope for the Newsreels back home, where at least when the rations ran low, morale could run high.

"I started this whole thing as a field nurse," she said, peeling her soaked gloves from her hands and wringing them out. Probably useless -- they'd be drenched again in a second -- but she couldn't help herself. She spoke the next words without looking at her companion, simply focused on trying to put gloves back on one finger at a time. Never thought I'd end up here. What about you?"

[ablinkntime]

@snkts

"Listen, if anybody's gonna understand what's going on in my head it's gonna be you... I can't talk to Mister Creed about this, he'll worry..." She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. "I haven't... slept much, since I came here. At all, really. I -- I talked to the Professor and it sorta... dredged up some stuff I didn't want to remember. I didn't mean to remember."

The heel of her hand dug into the spot between her eyes. "It's always going to be like this, isn't it? Living with the past."

[iobartach]

@snkts // short thing starter

"I've been known to take things way too far." Conduct that involved testing the limits of good intentions, repeatedly desecrating the borrowed moniker that he taken for himself; known here in this time as much as the man standing opposite him.

And, just like Parker, would not come between the Spider and achieving his goals.

"Out on the edge until the day I die."

[warlockisaslur]

@snkts ~~ from [ here ]

There was still a group chat, him and some of the other young heroes who'd answered the call at the tail-end of the whole Mother fiasco, and it was still pretty lively. Everybody from former Avengers Academy students, X-Men and adjacent, even Franklin and Valeria Richards (when they both didn't get kicked for infodumping on one thing or another, but they always got invited back). Mostly it was just a bunch of young adults memeing about the adult adults in their lives, but there was one little ongoing thread of conversation.

You knew you'd made it as a hero if you got a team-up with Wolverine.

Krakoa had called for aid, and the Court Wizard had answered, bringing a small detachment of both Kree and Skrull troops to help safeguard civilians -- not that they needed help, but it was symbolic. That the Alliance would stand when duty called, regardless of how far-flung the world asking happened to be.

Though -- and if anyone asked, Billy would deny it -- it felt good to do some on-the-ground, honest-to-God hero work for a day, and that coming in the form of a solo adventure with Wolverine?

Brother, he'd made it.

Offering a grim smile, the mage nodded, blue radiating from his eyes and his palms as he prepared his magic. "You got it. Take point, I'll make sure they don't box you in."

[psyknife]

@snkts: x

Kwannon had no problem helping people out when they needed it, especially when they worked as hard as she did. She knew the man called Logan rarely ever asked for help unless it was necessary, so there was no amusement when he requested a little assistance in the walking department. Down to one knee, the muscles in her back strained a bit with the weight of the adamantium within his body as she stood. But it wasn’t completely unbearable, not with a touch of telekinesis to help. “This is less embarrassing than carrying you bridal style, I’d say.”

[talessculpted]

@snkts || Plotted starter

Wade was bored.

And when Wade was bored, he had a way of making that everyone else's problem. Even the music had gone since bored him, and letting his hand 'swim' in the wind could only entertain him for so long before even that became dull. So he spoke, he spoke and spoke and showed no signs of shutting up anytime soon. That is, until he spotted something that caught his attention.

"Stop the car!" he said.

Not even waiting for Logan to do so as he was already opening the door and stepping out before he even finished saying the word 'car', he rolled in what to any other human would have been a painful and injury-inducing landing, but stood up like nothing and jogged over to what caught his attention, motioning for Logan to come over.

"If I got a blowjob for each decapitated Sabertooth I've seen here, I would be a happy camper," he said. "This isn't the one that lost his head because of you though— that looks JUST like my baby knife."

The head in question was stuck to a pike. The spine still attached to the skull, the bones dry from exposure to the sun and the elements. But the severed flesh of the neck still dripped blood. It was old, but it was not dead, these Howletts weren't easy to get rid of. Yet, it seemed someone had found a way to at least stop this Sabertooth using one of Deadpool's signature baby knives, the handle of which currently stuck out of the head's left eye, with the blade completely disappearing into the head. Most likely piercing the brain, keeping it from regenerating. But also keeping it from dying if the fresh blood at the base of the pike was anything to go by. Keeping the head fresh and displayed as a warning.

"Somebody doesn't like your brother~" Wade said with a sing along tone, even as his hand patted his side to make sure HIS baby knife was still on its holster. It was. "This wasn't done by a Me though. If it was me, I wouldn't have left him here– I like having somebody to talk to."

His attention was quickly pulled away from the very obvious warning to turn around and leave, which he completely ignored in favor of gushing over the building that laid just past it.

"A Mark's?!" Wade practically squealed. "How did the best clothing story in all of Canada end up here?! Come on, Wolvie!"

A clothing store in a place where every resource except people who wanted to kill you was so scarce should have been a clear sign of a trap, and yet Wade was already headed for the building, rambling about how it'd been his birthday before getting thrown here and how he deserved a gift, about also getting a gift for Vanessa– then it turned into a gift for Colossus, Negasonic, Yukio, everyone.

Wade didn't make it far.

It was as if he'd stepped on a landmine. He heard the soft click under his boot and without even being given time to lift it and get a look, there was an explosion of barbed wire that ensnared his leg. He went down with a scream, some unseen mechanism dragging him deeper into the store. Until he lied on his face beside the body of Sabertooth. Trapped just as he was.

"I found the rest of him," Wade groaned when he heard footsteps approaching, believing them to be Logan. "Help me get– oh."

Above him stood a cloaked figure, face hidden by the green hood and the fact the person had their back turned to the entrance– not like much light reached this part of the store anyway.

Silver Fox stood over the intruder: another Deadpool— as far as she knew, another one of Cassandra's minions. Mouthy and reckless as they all were. But she wouldn't have to listen to that annoying voice for much longer. One of daredevil's billy clubs, courtesy of Elektra, between her hands; upgraded with a steel fiber composite cable to make it useful to deal with the type of bastard that just didn't stay dead. She straddled his back, trapping his arms against his body with her thighs.

"Oh no, no no no no!" The cable went around Wade's neck and got pulled back, tightening and beginning to tear through fabric. Soon to tear through skin and muscle. "My safe word is Pumpkin butter!" Wade cried out, voice strained. "Pumpkin butter! Pumpkin butter! Logan!"

[volucerrubidus]

"that's a lot of blood. "

Blood Starters II Accepting

Robin should be used to crime scenes. Really, he should. He's not.

But what does one do when they become the crime scene?

A family of five dead, and he'd come across the killer still there-- decorating. He'd engaged the unknown assailant in a fight, and where he was usually the best in the room when faced with even an adept serial killer, it had become abundantly clear that whoever this person was, they were more than some family slayer. Tim was willing to bet that there were some common denominators in his and this other person's training, and that had not made him feel great about what had blown into Gotham tonight.

He'd barely escaped with his life. One of his ankles was broken, he had most certainly cracked a rib or two, and the blood on him was not just from being thrown to the floor with the victims.

By the time he hits the street, alone and dazed, his head swims, and he can't remember which direction Leslie's clinic is in.

So, he follows voices, instead, hoping someone out there in this godforsaken city will care about a vigilante enough to keep him from passing out due to his concussion.

He leaves behind a trail in the snow, and he holds back sick, wet coughs-- it can't be that bad. It can't be that bad. It can't be--

Robin wheezes hoarsely at the sound of a voice he recognizes.

"Wo---Wolv-- Hey." He grins blearily. "Don't worry. 'S'not all mine."

[merriemarvels]

prince for a day // Jack's First Birthday // @snkts

It was easy to get lost in the shuffle around the Institute, and TJ was well acquainted with that feeling. Having to share a birthday with the biggest holiday of the year was going to be hard enough for Jack, but she was going to make sure that not only was his birthday special, but not simply rolled into the other Christmas festivities. It wasn't going to be easy, but she was going to make it work. Another thing she had a lifetime of experience in.

She wasn't planning anything big, of course, because people had their own plans and ideas on what to do, where to be. She wouldn't start making demands of people who hadn't known her that long, it was all fine. but Talia Josephine was, at least, going to make her son's first birthday special to herself. He probably wouldn't remember anyway -- but she would. And there was one particular person she wanted to share it with.

"Birthday boy coming through," she announced, strolling in with her son perched on her hip; she had a cheeky grin on her face and Jack, absolutely oblivious, had his tail tightly wound around her arm where it poked from the buttonhole she'd sewn into his little onesie. A custom onesie, made up to look like her father's iconic suit. She had to, could anyone blame her?

[itsjubilation]

Christmas was always hard for Jubilation, no matter how many years passed. Sometimes she wished she could forget she'd ever had a family to lose, so that the memories wouldn't sting so badly, no matter how wide the gulf of time got, but that was almost always followed by a wave of guilt that soured her stomach. It would be a disservice to forget her mom and dad; Jingyi and Zhan Lee had sacrificed so much to give their daughter the best possible start in life, it would be cruel of her to simply wish it all away to spare herself the pain. This was why she poured herself into doing for others during this season. Into buying (or, often, making) gifts for her broad and varied X-Men family, into joining in on festivities and traditions that were far removed from what she'd grown up with, but which had become just as important.

After all, if not for the X-Men, she'd just be an orphan with a sad past.

She'd never been exceptional at anything. Good, sure -- she'd gotten good grades, been good at gymnastics, been good at in-line skate tricks. But she prided herself in being an exceptional gift-giver.

They weren't always big, but they were well thought-out, personal, and often, hilarious.

She was sitting on the floor of the upstairs common room, a pile of mall bags and a mess of paper and ribbons around her, and had been working her way through her wrapping when the song on the radio had changed and made her chest constrict and tears come to her eyes.

Merry Christmas, Darling. It always hurt.

Always.

@snkts

[panhelleniios]

@snkts sent ✏️ — from the incorrect quotes generator

Hercules: I have feelings for you.

Logan: Why? What’s wrong with you? Are you sure you’re okay?