@mshpkhh

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@mshpkhh
@mshpkhh ----- cont.
he ducks his head and brings his hands up. he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid. as it is, he’s only understanding bits and pieces of the english they’re speaking. but he can understand ‘don’t move’ in almost any language at this point. and so he remains still, doing his best not to sway on his feet.
Wincing as splinters of wood from the bullet spray dusted the top of her head, she glanced over to where he stood, cursing under her breath as she saw how he swayed a little. He wouldn’t last there long if this kept up... Gathering herself, she burst out of her cover, sprinting over with bullets flying around her. Making sure to keep behind cover as she helped him, she put her hands on his arms to do the same. ❝ Sit down. We don’t need you keeling over. ❞
idk where you’re all coming from but i hit 100 last night!!! thank you to all of you omg?? for a very long time i wanted to make this blog but wasn’t sure i’d be able to do charles justice. the fact that i made it past 10 followers even amazes me. i love you all so much and want to thank you for making this such a wonderful experience for me. now, without further ado, the pure humans i must acknowledge for giving this blog meaning <3
“Papa!” Wanda grinned, running towards the old man. “Papa, Papa, Daddy doesn’t want to buy me a unicorn, but he got Pietro a stupid game.” Wanda pouts, hugging him. “Things aren’t fair.”
@mshpkhh | has to handle the tantrum kid now.
@mshpkhh liked this for the happy smol
“Vati!” he runs to him happily “I got all my things ready first! Look!” he points out at his luggage, which he dragged to the living room before papa arrived. “Does that mean I get to decide where we go to! I want to go to Berlin which has everything!” That was a stupid thing to ask, he knows, Berlin is still in Germany and the Führer wouldn’t like them there either. “Or Warsaw? Can we take mr. kitty? Can we?”
Coming Home | mshpkhh
@mshpkhh
Magneto lit down in the alleyway behind the old man’s home. He was, for the first time in a long time, not wearing his costume; instead he was dressed in a tailored lavender suit with a magenta tie, which he adjusted nervously.
He walked out of the alleyway, his appearance unremarked-upon by the passers-by. Without his helmet, he could have been anyone.
But he wasn’t. And there was a hint of disdain to the way he looked at the people around him - humans, all of them, barely more than animals compared to him. Little did they know, he thought, who walked among them . . .
He approached the old man’s door with more than a hint of trepidation, gathered his nerves, and rang the doorbell.
This was it. This was the day he would meet his father again, after so many years.