#snkts

[indiegossipisms]

I heard @snkts is the best adoptive dad ever.

He has a small army of misfit ducklings that have imprinted on him because he makes sure they eat and watches out for them.

Also RIP to the mansion with Jubes ( @raregcms) and Clari ( @tmrrwppl) being new found friends (Cause Logan adopted both of them and now he will probs have some regrets when someone gets wooshed and boomed.

aw lissen this was so cute until you brought up the fashion disaster that is Clari meeting Jubilee and now I MUST know...

*opens google*

*Types in "Jubilee X-men fashion"*

*visible disgust*

GREAT THEY ARE SOULMATES.

LOGAN, BUY YOUR DAUGHTERS NICER CLOTHES. I WILL DONATE TO THE CAUSE. PLEASE. WE BEG.

also, wooshed and boomed is a great band name.

And terribly funny if you think about their powers working together.

...

huh, I might be in danger on this one. LEAVE MY MUSHROOM HOUSE ALONE I JUST FINISHED PAYING THE DAMN MORTGAGE TO THE RACCOON.

Edit: Tag added #If Clari's fashion has no haters then I am dead.

[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

[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?

[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.

[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

[fartemis-crock]

@snkts liked for a starter

"you don't want to throw your axe---" There's a pause, as Artemis gulps down the rest of her beer. Her normal midwestern drawl having a hint of a slur to it. She doesn't know who this guy is--- and honestly, didn't really care about if he was listening to her, but by god she had some thoughts about axes and someone was going to hear them whether they wanted to or not.

"--- then they have your axe. and you have no axe, and you know what that is? --fucked. it's fucked."

[zimwy]

Happy April Fools, Logan has been using every bit of his enhanced abilities, long practiced poker face, and every distracting moment to stick fridge magnets to Bucky's arm. Where did he get so many magnets? How does he keep having more?

Well, bub, that's a trade secret.

the first one, bucky noticed. it's not like he caught logan in the act or anything--if he had, it certainly wouldn't have progressed quite this far--but the arm is housed with an array of sensors that interpret touch, albeit distantly and numb. it always reminded him of your mouth after dental surgery, the sensation of having flesh and tongue cutting teeth, knowing they were there, and not feeling a thing. he can write off one, however strange, as an accident construed by a certain amount of natural magnetism and passing near a fridge with a loose magnet. sure, that was stupid and barely made sense, but it was a passing possibility.

but logan amps up his game, finds more delicate methods of administration. this time, bucky only notices when one of them--perhaps logan hadn't considered how heat would coagulate in the plates--begins to melt. soft, rubbery pvc and heat-conductive metal did not blend particularly well. the scent draws him to his own shoulder, then his arm.

he rotates the arm in it's socket to bend at degrees considered wildly unnatural in a human body, wrist pointing outward, thumb perpendicular with the outcropping of his hip bone. two of them are sanrio characters. another simply says "DUBAI" in bright, bold, cartoonish letters. the fourth is a mock slice of pizza, thick like playdough. a bendable cat begins falling off where the radius bone would've been, and--he likes to think it's unintentional--three letter magnets sit scattered from shoulder to forearm, spaced out, spelling G A Y.

bucky pries them off, one by one, and glares at his suspect. logan's impassive expression breaks.

' what th' hell is your problem? ' the brooklynite in him emerges easily into his voice, plagues his pronunciations. he thwaps logan with one of the magnets when he throws it at him. ' fuckin'--ya know i'm gonna get you back for this, logan. i will. '

@snkts

[diam1nd]

@snkts sc / ♡ " what an idiot. logan if you don't hold me back i may kill scott before you do."

[smilingmxsk]

@snkts is clued in to a new mystery.

This night holds a different air than usual in this coastal city. What would've been a relatively peaceful twilight was becoming a twilight of terror. Locals were being urged to take shelter as an unknown threat had begun swiping people from the streets left and right. Reports of deep crimson trails and puddles left behind in different corners of the city, causing alarm to both residents and local authorities. The most unnatural and concerning thing about these pieces of evidence left behind? They lead to nowhere.

Residents have been strongly advised to stay inside until the problem has been resolved as it appeared that a silent killer was on the loose.

In the meantime, within one of those corners of the city, a hungering beast sat before her chosen prey. The person, a woman, sobbing for her dear life, stood planted against the far brick wall of a dead end. This monster had tailed and chased the poor woman into this spot. A successful play at cornering its prey. There was nowhere for the woman to go, nowhere she could squeeze to escape her fate.

The beast prowled ever closer to her prey, her bloodied teeth bared in all their glory. Her muzzle was caked in the crimson red of past victims, a sure connection to the puddles and trails of evidence throughout the city. This was, in fact, the pale-faced culprit.

What the beast doesn't know, however, is that her bloody trail would very soon be found out by an incoming intruder. It isn't until a new scent hits her that she stops her advancement.

Nostrils flare as she stands to her full height of seven feet. She smells it. A new predator has arrived on the scene. Though the scent of blood was strong within her senses, this scent was just distinct enough to catch her attention. Enough, that it urges her to meet his gaze with her own full crimson eyes, and elicits a low growl to rumble in her throat.

[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..

[ablinkntime]

@snkts // from here

Part of her thought it was stupid to have stayed there at all; Clarice could have just gone back to Cartusia, back to the home she'd shared with Val and Peggy and Becca, Wolvie and King… but as ever, her heart betrayed her. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay where Victor was, cling to that one remaining tie to her old life. She should have been working on leaving all that behind, but that felt cruel -- not after learning the memories were all there, even if the man was different. She couldn't just abandon him again.

If Clarice Ferguson could describe herself in one word, the word would be adaptable. She had always been a very go-with-the-flow type – a follower – and though she'd developed more of a backbone in her time as the leader of the Exiles, it didn't diminish her ability to get used to things. This was just another phase of her life, and she'd adapt like always.

They'd found her a room at the Institute, and it was even one of the bigger ones that had a private bathroom – she wasn't a student, after all. In fact there were rumblings of her taking on a consulting role. As long as there were multiversal incursions, timeline trouble, quantum hiccups in causality, it was handy to have somebody around who had personal experience with it all. And in that respect, she didn't really mind; she was already making notes, scrawling out from memory the diagrams they'd seen of how the Panoptichron viewed the mutiverse.

She was making friends – or, at least, expanding her orbit from Victor to include those close to him. Finding she liked and had a lot in common with this world's version of Logan was a big comfort. Weapon X had been a sometime presence in her life, back in her time, but he'd never been the same after losing his Jean. Here, there was a different connection – it hadn't quite been a surprise, but she politely kept to herself how much she noticed between Logan and Victor. They were clearly being discreet, and so she would be.

Still, it melted her heart a little.

The problem, though, was that things were rarely so easy, and she knew that other shoe had to drop sometime. That shoe came in the form of Rogue. Versions of Rogue who were the natural child of Mystique were nothing new to Clarice; Mystiq, of course, had told her about his wife and daughter, and Anna Raven had broken her tough-girl exterior a single time to mention that she, too, was the natural child of her world's Mystique and Destiny. But here, now, there was a pretty important difference. An absurd twist of probability which had Victor as this Rogue's father.

It had been surprising to Clarice, but she'd gotten over it. It wasn't her place to be upset over it. The man, the body, had a life before he'd gotten a variant's memories suddenly written into his psyche, and she was part of that. The news had apparently only gotten to them a few weeks before Clarice showed up, and Rogue's reaction had been…

in a word, bad.

Clarice didn't blame her. Not a whit. She'd just had her world turned upside-down, her notions about her own past exposed as lies. She was so young, volatile, still even learning the quirks of her mutation, and now she found out that everything she thought she knew about where she came from was wrong? It was a lot to put on a kid. And then this girl shows up, and the man who’d accepted you as his without question suddenly starts heaping affection on her? And what you thought was going to be unique and special, suddenly you had to share?

Jealousy was an emotion Clarice understood well, but she'd never had it directed at her. Empathy dictated she should have simply left at that point. Give them the time they'd need to figure it out for themselves, come back when they had the bandwidth – but Victor wouldn't hear it. He wanted her around, he wanted them to get along. He expected a lot from the two of them, and forgot precisely how stubborn both of them could be.

And as expected, it had boiled over. Clarice was in the kitchen, trying to find where the good snacks had gotten stowed away on the last grocery run, and because she was so short, she'd been standing on the counter digging in the back of a cabinet. Rogue had reached right past her and snagged the cookies she'd just unearthed, they'd started bickering -- Rogue made an observation that feet on the counter weren't exactly sanitary, Clarice made a crack about her height…

Rogue's response had been something along the lines of 'nobody wants you here anyway'.

And yes, Clarice had gotten mad. Had fired back that she wasn't going anywhere, so Rogue should suck it up.

Rogue's return volley had been in the vein of things being better before Clarice had showed up.

They were screaming at each other by the time Victor stepped in to break it up -- and made a crucial, fatal error in judgment. He hadn't meant it to seem that way, of course, but he'd never been the greatest peacekeeper. He'd focused entirely on Rogue, and agreed with Clarice, that she was going to have to get used to her being around. Rogue, of course, had stormed off, and he'd sighed, scowled at Clarice, and though she knew the next thing he said wasn't meant to hurt her either, it had felt like a shot through the heart nonetheless.

"She definitely gets that temper from me. So glad you're not that hotheaded, sprout."

B l i n k

Now she was hiding. Again. She'd spent a few days only going back to her room long enough to sleep, and then disappeared into the nearby woods, sometimes on the grounds, sometimes further out. Sometimes going back to grab a snack, get caught in awkward small-talk, before disappearing again.

And why she thought she could hide from either of them was anyone's guess, because of course, here was Logan come to check up on her when the rain had started up and she'd had to come shelter in the architecture atop the school. Hugging her knees, she huffed quietly. As if maybe he'd go away if she simply brushed him off.

A fool's errand, of course. This was the Wolverine. Stubborn was his middle name.

So she sighed, rubbed her face with her hands. "I could handle it if she just… hated me. Not that I know how sibling rivalry is supposed to work, but -- but he's a good father, and he'll do right by her, if she'll let him. It's that I can see him in her. I look at her and I know she's his, and I'm --" Her voice went tight, choked off, and she had to clear her throat to find it again. "I'm just the stray he picked up who should'a grown up and left a long time ago. She hates me because she didn't get to be his first kid, and it feels like I've always just been the placeholder… the practice kid 'til he got the one that was his blood…"

Clarice's eyes were brimming with tears when she finally looked at Logan. "I'm just in the way here, Mister Logan. She needs him. He doesn't need me."

[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.'

[acta-x-non-x-verba]

Territorial Dispute

He was, slowly, getting the lay of the land, he thought, and while people weren't necessarily used to the sight of him, they at least knew he was there and for the most part, they seemed to leave him be unless they had a very particular question they needed answered, and he seemed to be a 'Last Resort' to these sorts of things as it was.

This suited him just fine, on account that he didn't care for massive amount of people swarming him all at once- though he sometimes found himself.. not openly or actively, but perhaps passively joining in certain activities with a smaller amount of mutants. Looming in the doorway, poking his head in and leaving, or sometimes asking a question counted, didn't it?

He'd even done movie night, and given them a whole elk to pick over. He didn't even eat the elk!

He was still picking the nail polish off of his claws from movie night, but he digressed. A small price to pay for getting 'closer' with the lot of them. After all, if the children stopped being so wary first, the adults would, gradually, fall after.

Lost in thought about these things, he found himself wandering the corridors. The end of the year was nearing, and it was cold, outside. Christmas was around the corner, and as far as he knew, some went home to see their family. Most didn't.

He'd probably make himself scarce then, too- a pause, nose lifting, mouth parting to run the air over the roof of his mouth to taste better. "...Logan," he grunted, tucking his chin to his chest. "I know you're there."

{@snkts }

[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."

[herowife]

❛ you're the guy everyone's scared of ?! ❜ brows furrow , purple orbs wide with utter exasperation . she's dealt with a million guys like him before , and taller ones . maybe less hairy . plonking herself at the bar , ordering a scotch . . . straight up . she's classy . ❛ you remind me of someone from eighth grade . . . just with a lot more hair . ❜ who the hell was it ? the name will come to me . but , back to the point . . . this was the infamous wolverine ?! interesting .

@snkts liked for a starter .

[zimwy]

' wouldn't it have been easier if-- ' ' shut up. '

bucky tuts in response, the hiss of air like a trapped animal between his front teeth and tongue tip. he sinks into his seat with a groaned, drawn out 'okay' to signify his obvious displeasure, his legs jutting out over the lip of seat upholstery. logan's car smelled distantly of wafting cigar smoke, the dangling cheap air freshener, and a note of something barnes could not immediately name. blood, perhaps. none of it was choking, but it evoked memories long lost to him, thin and watery.

he lifts a boot and presses it into the dashboard, instantly disturbing logan's request for quiet. ' why don't you like flying? ' the query is posited as if he's a lonesome youth, finally peeling back the veneer of individualism and learning that his parents were, in fact, people. he makes a face when they hit a bump in the road, the metal frame of logan's vehicle pinching his fleshy arm. the opposite heavy prosthesis furls in over barnes' lap to avoid ramming into logan's side on sharp turns. ' you never did, not even in the war. scared? '

@snkts