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spitewick:

 

The little being paused in the middle of the condo. Welp. They were both in a home that wasn’t theirs, so she could exactly tell him no taking things without permission…. Which was exactly what she was doing… But these rich kids wouldn’t miss ONE lava lamp if if went “missing”.
She perched just on top of the lamp, watching the masked man with a quirked brow.
"Well, technically, neither of us are supposed to be…" she explained slowly, tapping her chin. The girl couldn’t have been more than six inches tall. She was holding a rather large gem to her fluffy chest. It looked like she was planning on repaying the owners of the lamp.
"This er… Isn’t my house… And you are…? You seem familiar."

"Wade Wilson, Deadpool, Merc with a Mouth." Wade spitted out his aliases with ease. He furrowed a brow. "And you are… the fairy of the forest, the protector of nature… wait. Are you a neopet?" His face lit up as he made the connection, whether it be true or not. "You are! You’re totally like, a jubjub or something." He held his gloved hands over his masked face like a teenage girl, immediately enamored by his thoughts of owning a real life neopet. "Awh, man, I gotta tell Bob, I always wanted a Scorchio but dude, this is siiiick." 

+4 More, What a Score

natashainbudapest:

 

"it better or you can get me a new one" This man seemed harmless but so did a lot of deadly things, she stayed cautious, though he may be harmless, he was definitely mental and he had a gun, and even though she acted bullet proof she was far from it. "well its what your paid to do, so id assume you’d do it as quickly as possible," she said calmly, her face revealing no expression. She moved herself around him and got herself a drink out of the fridge and leaning on it once the door had shut "from what i gather you either stole an arm for a stupid gag or you can regenerate. Im gonna go with the latter."  

"Good job with the detective work Holmes." Wade retorted, mildly sarcastic as he grabbed his own dismembered arm and waved it at her. "Need a hand with that drink?" He grinned, before trying to use it as a back scratcher. "Man, these things seem to get all the right- spots." He managed as he squirmed around, itching himself with his own dismembered arm. He threw it back onto the countertop, placing his empty juicebox in the curve of the hand before closing it around the crumpled cardboard mass. He crossed his arms, a bit bored with the mood. What was the last movie he saw? Where did he have to go off to? Did he have plans for the week. The world may never know. ‘Aren’t we doing something?’ A voice in his head prompted him from his daydreams.