fourthwalled | Folkmore IC Inbox

I know. It's like I'm People Magazine's Sexiest Man alive... but from 2010. I've got a little wear and tear going on, but I still got it! [He grins, pushing past his melancholy quickly, as he so often does. All jokes and nonsense, as it should be.] And I was Canadian Special Forces, so you're not wrong about the GI Joe thing.

[He moves back to his pancakes, flipping the last one off the pan. Something to focus on while he reels internally over this development.] I've talked to Bucky. I don't think he likes me very much. [Big surprise.] But that might be because I flirt with Rogue non-stop.

[But who could blame him?]

2010? Voting on our flip phones, are we? [ The swing back to something lighter is familiar, and Peter wonders if maybe his coping-with-humor isn't that dissimilar to Wade's, if not just as transparent. ] I meant the buzz cut, but if you've got a whole smooth Ken-doll situation down there, blame the fox, not me.

[ Peter turns to the eggs, following Wade's lead; not inclined to stare at him when he's clearly processing it himself. He hadn't even noticed - though perhaps Wade's transition was a little less intrusive than Peter's, so, fair. ] Pff, sounds like it might be justified. Just be careful of that metal arm - packs a punch.

[ Don't ask him how he knows. ~~He punched himself in the face with it by accident.~~ Peter starts cracking eggs into the bowl, having to reach up to push the excess hair out of his face once again. ] I woke up spooning her and he didn't kill me, so I think you're not doing too bad?

Yes. And data rates may apply. [He nods sagely. But the comment about Ken-dolls makes him pause, and he looks down and then, well-- this is your fault Peter, he tugs his boxers to have a peak at what's under the hood.] Nope, still there.

[And just as unscarred as the rest of him. His boxer elastic snaps against skin as he releases it, returning to the pancakes and taking them to the kitchen table.]

Not my first time pissing off a grouchy man with a metal arm. I think I'll be alright. [The threat of violence has never been a deterrent for Wade, anyway. If anything, it only makes him want to do whatever it is more.] You were spooning, Rogue!? What? When was this?!? Tell me everything.

[ Peter just snorts to himself and shakes his head, setting aside eggshells as he cracks them into the mixing bowl. He's never really had other guys to hang out with - living with his elderly aunt, and Harry being so...particular, sometimes Wade just being Wade throws him for a moderate loop. ] That makes one of us.

Oh? You know a lot of cyborgs, back home? [ Peter cracks eight eggs, pauses, and then continues to crack four more to make an even twelve. What? One of the great things about Folkmore is that he's actually able to eat as much as his metabolism needs; and Wade never ceases to have an appetite, either. Good thing food is bought with running your mouth; Peter's pretty sure Wade's a gazillionaire by now. ] Uh, like...two months ago? Guess a restaurant in town didn't pass inspection because a bunch of weird shit started happening to anyone who'd eaten there.

So yeah, I woke up, not myself. [ Peter places the last shell back in the egg carton, moving to toss it in the garbage. Are his cheeks a little pink? Maybe. Turns out he's an easy blusher either form. ] She was - you know. There, uh, also. She was really nice about it.

[ It's amazing he ever had a girlfriend. ]

One, at least. Cable. He was a grumpy time traveler. Absolutely obsessed with chapstick and fanny packs. Hated dubstep. Also, another guy who can turn entirely into metal. Colossus. Great ass.

[Wade moves to pour more battle to cook up a few more pancakes to go with the impressive stack he's already made.] I'm sorry I missed that. That sounds like fun. Although I'd feel sorry for whatever unfortunate fuck landed in my body.

[Cause, come on, who wants that?]

Oh. [Wade turns to look at Peter, and that blush isn't missed.] Heh. Did someone have a bit of morning wood, Pete...?

Sometimes I can't tell if you're fucking with me. [ Peter can't help his chuckle, which is really more of a giggle, oh sweet lord. ] Is it rude to say that dubstep feels like the song of the cyborg people? That's probably specist. Is that specist?

I have a feeling it'll happen again. Or something like it, anyway. [ Peter gestures to their persons, the changes Thirteen seems to see fit to shower them with so consistently. ] Aw come on, Wade. You're - you know, built!

[ Peter nudges Wade's arm, poking at the muscle with one finger before he moves to grab a fork from the drawer, and start whipping the eggs. ]

It wasn't my morning wood, that was the whole problem! [ Yeah yeah, he's a little red, but it's fine! Rogue and Bucky weren't offended, he managed to get out of it with minimal embarrassment (which is honestly something of a record for him.) ]

Part of my charm? [He grins, waggling his eyebrows-- that he's actually got at the moment.] Well, either way, this cyborg did not enjoy the song of his people. Or he just lives to be a grumpy fuck. But... also good guy. Beat my ass, stabbed, and shot me a whole bunch, but we really bonded after that.

[After murdering a bunch of pedophiles. Which he's not bringing up to Peter. Mentions of Wade's murderhobo tendencies do not spark joy in this apartment with Petey-Boy so he's less prone to go on about it.

He blinks at the nudge, turning to look at Peter. His expression is dubious.] Built, right. Built like a gym bro that took a dive into boiling oil on a dare. Who's into that? Are you?

[Not that he, you know, cares if you are or anything... ~~HE CARES TOO MUCH~~]

Ha! I mean, sure, sure, consent, etc., [He waves dismissively.] Whatever-- but that's still objectively hilarious!

Folkmore IC Inbox

crawling my way back to the land of the living lmao

hard same lol. this caps the end of my tag bomb !!

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cw: bracket mention of pedophilia