[he will definitely forgive her especially since having his face trapped against the mattress while she twirls her fingers on the back of his head and neck is really nice.
he may just remain here flopped over all uselessly.]
Draw many beans.
[raising his hand and giving a casual wave. do continue drawing.]
[She likes it. He's always so gogogo, even when on the mend, that getting him to willingly stay still like this is a treat. She's very much not an artist, deciding to give Bean Pietro (Bientro?) a grassy patch to stand on, a tree for shade, and speed lines. Gotta go fast.
All the while, she happily dotes on him, because she can do this if she can't have him tucked in her arms.]
[pietro knocks at her side with a hand. how silly of her, saying things so easily like he's the most important to her. he thinks of this vision she was in love with (perhaps continues to be?), and thinks about how much he missed.]
Hm.
[okay, he's going to try and stay awake for a bit, if only to glance up at her drawings.]
[She's still drawing! There needs to be birds in the sky. Blue birds fit, but they get interrupted as she lifts the pad to gently tap it on his head. No peeking.]
You're my other half.
[As much as she loves Vision, losing Pietro was like losing a limb. She only ever knew life with him.]
yes, and also felt like i spoiled myself because *i just knew*
[he's been pad'd, and he rolls over onto his side so that dearest wanda can use his face as a table for the art pad if she wants to. he puts the weight of his head on his hand.]
Ah. Wise, resting up for cleaning. There's a lot more mess since you've moved in.
[Not really. And if there was, she'd welcome it. There's a new peace in her heart she thought was lost to her forever, having her brother with her again.]
[alright, now he sits up and sits right beside her, annoyingly leaning his weight against her as their arms and elbows bump. and—okay, awed would be one way to describe how he feels about this.
pietro is trying so hard not to laugh, his face a show of said struggle.]
These are—
[here goes]
so ugly.
[okay, he starts laughing as he's saying the last word, falling onto his back and genuinely trying to stop his wheezing laughter.]
[Wanda doesn't tolerate too many in her personal space, but her brother? Her space is his, and vice versa. They shared their mother's womb, after all. She's used to having to bump him back, or shifting just enough to fit into the space he allows. He is the bigger one, even if older is debatable now.]
Hey!
[She gives him a shove, pointless as he's already falling back, so she smacks his belly with the art pad.]
It's art! I spent a whole five minutes on this. Pietro.
[Wanda is a little better at not giving into laughter, but she does smile. She can't help it.]
[he's hiccuping from how much he's wheezing, his throat straining from how much air he's coughing out and not breathing in. it is even funnier (to him) when she starts smacking him with the art pad, and even trying to make an argument about it being "art".]
Is... Is the five minutes telling me you spent t—too little [KEEP IT TOGETHER] or too much time...?
[alright, he's spiraling again into a fit of giggles, having to turn himself over to push his face into a pillow. this will somehow help.]
[god, that sends him again into a fit of laughter—calling him a bully and making it sound like he's only good at it because she allows it. how dare!
okay, but, really now, all this laughing is actually making his stomach hurt. which is why he super speeds his way out of the bed to quickly get rid of that energy with a quick run (inside the house! it's still raining out, he realized upon nearly running out the porch), and even managing to sketch something in that time, totally stealing the art pad from her hands before she realizes.
and he's back—dumping himself on the bed beside her.]
I'm okay now.
[face sure is still red from laughing.]
Look, Wanda, I will work hard to teach you. It is not very difficult. [he is sketching shapes and things besides her drawings.] Are you looking? Your lines need confidence.
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[She pets his hair and gives the back of his neck a little massage, too.
Her bean drawing is hideous.
He'll forgive her.]
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he may just remain here flopped over all uselessly.]
Draw many beans.
[raising his hand and giving a casual wave. do continue drawing.]
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All the while, she happily dotes on him, because she can do this if she can't have him tucked in her arms.]
*BIENTRO*
I am falling asleep.
[a mumbled confession, because he is certain this will end at some point.]
How many beans?
beautiful
[One bean on paper, one next to her on the bed. And a lot of trees, drawn in blue marker, because she's lazy.]
are you watching the what if series, btw? (i exist)
But I am the most important one.
[grumbled!!]
yes!! :D I love it!!! Totally current, need 50000 more eps and yay for existing c:
[Bean. Person. Anything, really.]
okay becAUSE THE WHOLE "BABA YAGA" BIT HAD ME LIKE "WAIT PIETRO SAID THAT 23093 TIMES"
Hm.
[okay, he's going to try and stay awake for a bit, if only to glance up at her drawings.]
As are you, little sister.
so you're saying all the death was pietro's fault
You're my other half.
[As much as she loves Vision, losing Pietro was like losing a limb. She only ever knew life with him.]
yes, and also felt like i spoiled myself because *i just knew*
The older half.
baba yaga never allowed to be happy
I don't know about that anymore.
now i'm sad :'(
[he raises a hand to poke the center of her forehead.]
forever doomed to be a zombie
Is it that important?
join pietro in zombiedom
[okay, this might require him to actually sit up—except, you know what?, he's comfortable as he is. there is but an attempt that is quickly abandoned.
ahem.
(don't bite him, zombienda!)]
It means that you get to listen to me first. Of course, you have a choice in decisions, but I get the first try at things. Very simple.
zombie twins :(
[Cool. Wanda likes that. She smiles and pats his head.]
if only.. me holding out hope for pietro in what if 🤡
wanda can never be happy, therefore no pietro ever
[Not really. And if there was, she'd welcome it. There's a new peace in her heart she thought was lost to her forever, having her brother with her again.]
i hate how right you are
I do not like when you talk about cleaning.
[his least favorite thing to do is: CHORES. all of them. gradually, he does turn around until he's facing up, grabbing the art pad from her.]
It is unnecessary. Can I look now?
[he's keeping the drawing facing away from him.]
cries 😭
[Wanda shrugs, glancing at her hideous drawing of beans and trees and birds.]
Go on, brother. Be awed.
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pietro is trying so hard not to laugh, his face a show of said struggle.]
These are—
[here goes]
so ugly.
[okay, he starts laughing as he's saying the last word, falling onto his back and genuinely trying to stop his wheezing laughter.]
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Hey!
[She gives him a shove, pointless as he's already falling back, so she smacks his belly with the art pad.]
It's art! I spent a whole five minutes on this. Pietro.
[Wanda is a little better at not giving into laughter, but she does smile. She can't help it.]
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Is... Is the five minutes telling me you spent t—too little [KEEP IT TOGETHER] or too much time...?
[alright, he's spiraling again into a fit of giggles, having to turn himself over to push his face into a pillow. this will somehow help.]
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You're such a bully. I guess I have to let you be better at something.
[She sounds so offended, laughing like that.]
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okay, but, really now, all this laughing is actually making his stomach hurt. which is why he super speeds his way out of the bed to quickly get rid of that energy with a quick run (inside the house! it's still raining out, he realized upon nearly running out the porch), and even managing to sketch something in that time, totally stealing the art pad from her hands before she realizes.
and he's back—dumping himself on the bed beside her.]
I'm okay now.
[face sure is still red from laughing.]
Look, Wanda, I will work hard to teach you. It is not very difficult. [he is sketching shapes and things besides her drawings.] Are you looking? Your lines need confidence.
[isn't he unbearable]
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My lines had confidence until you laughed at them! Then you made them shrivel up in embarrassment.
[And look, her drawings are shrinking on the page. So sad.]
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