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.
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!
no subject
[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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
[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...?
no subject
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.) ]
cw: bracket mention of pedophilia
[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!