[Hey there. You might wondering how I got into this situation...
That's how this movie would start, courtesy of Peter Parker — ah, sorry. Spider-Man. Spider-Man, who is currently hanging upside down, but not off a web. Noooo, no siree, he's hanging upside down while tied to some other upside down schmoe in red spandex. Leather? He's not really sure what DP's suit is made out of.
What he does know is that his head's a little murky, and he's pretty sure someone absolutely shot him with a tranquilizer to get him from Point A to Point Behind Touching Wade's Behind. He squirms a little, tries to turn his head uselessly to see Wade.
If he throws his head back a teeny bit, his skull bonks harmlessly with Deadpool's.
Huh, yeah, he's really there.]
Where...? When...? Who...?
[There's a few more W's he could say, but he'll just let 'em die in his post-drugging cottonmouth. At least they haven't removed his mask? Yet, anyway. He would rather wake up his body more and get the heck out of dodge.]
[ Wade stays still, allows the squirmy bondage buddy to get their bearings in an odd sense of self-preservation from the old days, from when his first instinct in situations like these would be to fake sleeping and collect as much data as possible... ]
[ WOWZA. ]
Spidey pinch me with your wandering hands, I think I'm dreaming!
[ Oh, right, this is no dream. ]
[ The pain in his neck makes that clear... that's right... someone shot him with an elephant tranq... cue the flashback of him going "the ffu-" before passing out. That had been fun. ]
Elephant is definitely an understatement. They were Ahab and I was their big, red, ugly space whale.
[ Wade's head shifts against Peter's and he presses back against his body, looking for any flaws in their restraints.
His neck isn't done killing him from when it got snapped after he woke up halfway through whatever nefarious plan this was. They thought his healing factor wouldn't chew through some sleepy drugs and spit them back out? HAH. ]
Does your tongue feel like it ran the Olympics? I also taste burnt toast. Is this what a stroke feels like? Have I had one of those yet?
[ Instead of having wandering hands, as most might assume of a scumbag like Wade Wilson, his own hands move uncomfortably away from any accidental groping and hopefully towards his hidden knives... he can feel his katana missing and his guns. ]
You okay back there? Got all eight legs? Fingers and toes where they belong?
[ Who the fuck knows what happened in that missing time. ]
[Spidey pinches Wade on the ribs, since he asked so politely. A little less delicately, because hey, you gotta know for sure you're not dreaming, right?]
Talking to the TV newscaster in your head again, Mr. Wilson? Where's menace Dennis at, anyway?
[He also tries to keep his hands to himself (outside of that pinch, which is still totally deserved because he's like 70% sure this must be something Wade did to get him into accidental trouble. Uh. Okay, it's 50/50. It could be either of them. But still.
Wriggling, he winces when he realizes that his webshooters are not currently on his wrists.]
... I think I'm missing a few braincells, but that might be the drugs talking. Maybe.
What the heck's going on here? Is this a mafia thing again?
Because I'm tired of mafia things. NYC needs to change up its issues for once.
[ Wade squirms a bit in retaliation to the pinch. His head tips back to bump against Peter's again as he looks below them. ]
I don't know if you know this about me but you're kinda checking off my kink bingo card.
[ He can't hide his grimace as he realises he's going to either need Spidey's help or to start gnawing parts off... The latter sounds better than trying to walk Peter through getting to the knife hidden under his suit. The one currently pressing uncomfortably into his hipbone.
Yeah, no. ]
State secrets, Webs. But I can tell you I have no clue what's going on. Could be the dude that keeps putting hits on you.
I was just minding my business, hanging out with you.
[ Stalking. ]
You might say stalking, but I say hanging out with - from afar... for money. Lots and lots of money. And then a whole bunch of goons popped out of nowhere like ninjas.
[ Why is he so wiggly? ]
You and your zentai suit and all your squirming isn't helping me think.
[ Almost, as if to be contrary, Wade begins squirming himself. He finally manages to get the side of his hand pressed into Peter's own. ]
You ever used a stress relief ball?
[ Yes, he's suggesting Peter crunch his poor little bones so he can pull them through some of his restraints. ]
The dude who keeps putting hits on me? That's not very helpful; that could be just about anybody with fifty bucks to their name.
[Spider-Man is no stranger to being hunted for revenge, or nearly shot. But man, he's usually a lot better about avoiding getting jumped — wait a sec. Did he just say stalking? Peter turns his head, and his mask's eyes narrow into slits.]
Are you the one who's been graffitiing SP + DP around my hang-out spots?
[No, no, focus. Getting out of this would be cool. Peter blinks mid-thought when he feels Wade's hand in his, and it takes a minute for his still admittedly foggy brain to catch up to what he's implying. He squeezes the hand back politely, and there's absolutely 0 crushing force to it.]
We're not turning you into a stress relief ball. Think of something else. Por favor.
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sforzinda
RANDOM DUMB SHIT FOR YOU
Date: 2020-11-09 09:48 am (UTC)That's how this movie would start, courtesy of Peter Parker — ah, sorry. Spider-Man. Spider-Man, who is currently hanging upside down, but not off a web. Noooo, no siree, he's hanging upside down while tied to some other upside down schmoe in red spandex. Leather? He's not really sure what DP's suit is made out of.
What he does know is that his head's a little murky, and he's pretty sure someone absolutely shot him with a tranquilizer to get him from Point A to Point Behind Touching Wade's Behind. He squirms a little, tries to turn his head uselessly to see Wade.
If he throws his head back a teeny bit, his skull bonks harmlessly with Deadpool's.
Huh, yeah, he's really there.]
Where...? When...? Who...?
[There's a few more W's he could say, but he'll just let 'em die in his post-drugging cottonmouth. At least they haven't removed his mask? Yet, anyway. He would rather wake up his body more and get the heck out of dodge.]
no subject
Date: 2021-03-04 07:04 am (UTC)[ WOWZA. ]
Spidey pinch me with your wandering hands, I think I'm dreaming!
[ Oh, right, this is no dream. ]
[ The pain in his neck makes that clear... that's right... someone shot him with an elephant tranq... cue the flashback of him going "the ffu-" before passing out. That had been fun. ]
Elephant is definitely an understatement. They were Ahab and I was their big, red, ugly space whale.
[ Wade's head shifts against Peter's and he presses back against his body, looking for any flaws in their restraints.
His neck isn't done killing him from when it got snapped after he woke up halfway through whatever nefarious plan this was. They thought his healing factor wouldn't chew through some sleepy drugs and spit them back out? HAH. ]
Does your tongue feel like it ran the Olympics? I also taste burnt toast. Is this what a stroke feels like? Have I had one of those yet?
[ Instead of having wandering hands, as most might assume of a scumbag like Wade Wilson, his own hands move uncomfortably away from any accidental groping and hopefully towards his hidden knives... he can feel his katana missing and his guns. ]
You okay back there? Got all eight legs? Fingers and toes where they belong?
[ Who the fuck knows what happened in that missing time. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-03-06 05:58 am (UTC)Talking to the TV newscaster in your head again, Mr. Wilson? Where's menace Dennis at, anyway?
[He also tries to keep his hands to himself (outside of that pinch, which is still totally deserved because he's like 70% sure this must be something Wade did to get him into accidental trouble. Uh. Okay, it's 50/50. It could be either of them. But still.
Wriggling, he winces when he realizes that his webshooters are not currently on his wrists.]
... I think I'm missing a few braincells, but that might be the drugs talking. Maybe.
What the heck's going on here? Is this a mafia thing again?
Because I'm tired of mafia things. NYC needs to change up its issues for once.
no subject
Date: 2021-03-06 06:46 am (UTC)[ Wade squirms a bit in retaliation to the pinch. His head tips back to bump against Peter's again as he looks below them. ]
I don't know if you know this about me but you're kinda checking off my kink bingo card.
[ He can't hide his grimace as he realises he's going to either need Spidey's help or to start gnawing parts off... The latter sounds better than trying to walk Peter through getting to the knife hidden under his suit. The one currently pressing uncomfortably into his hipbone.
Yeah, no. ]
State secrets, Webs. But I can tell you I have no clue what's going on. Could be the dude that keeps putting hits on you.
I was just minding my business, hanging out with you.
[ Stalking. ]
You might say stalking, but I say hanging out with - from afar... for money. Lots and lots of money. And then a whole bunch of goons popped out of nowhere like ninjas.
[ Why is he so wiggly? ]
You and your zentai suit and all your squirming isn't helping me think.
[ Almost, as if to be contrary, Wade begins squirming himself. He finally manages to get the side of his hand pressed into Peter's own. ]
You ever used a stress relief ball?
[ Yes, he's suggesting Peter crunch his poor little bones so he can pull them through some of his restraints. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-03-09 09:19 am (UTC)[Spider-Man is no stranger to being hunted for revenge, or nearly shot. But man, he's usually a lot better about avoiding getting jumped — wait a sec. Did he just say stalking? Peter turns his head, and his mask's eyes narrow into slits.]
Are you the one who's been graffitiing SP + DP around my hang-out spots?
[No, no, focus. Getting out of this would be cool. Peter blinks mid-thought when he feels Wade's hand in his, and it takes a minute for his still admittedly foggy brain to catch up to what he's implying. He squeezes the hand back politely, and there's absolutely 0 crushing force to it.]
We're not turning you into a stress relief ball. Think of something else. Por favor.
[His limit is pinching you, Wade.]