[magicalempath]

with       a       flick       of       her       wand,       𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵𝑰𝑬       sends       raisins ,       apples        and       pastry       flying       into       the       air.              the       concoction       neatly       wraps       itself       up       into       a       cylindrical       pie ,       baking       on       the       spot,       complete       with       ornate       decoration       and       a       dusting       of       sugar.

#𝐌𝑨𝐆𝐈𝐂𝑨𝐋𝑬𝐌𝐏𝑨𝐓𝐇 ⨾            a     literate,     multi - para     /     novella       multi - versed,       canon       &&.       caonon       div       portrayal       of       𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵𝑰𝑬       𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑫𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑰𝑵.      /      ( carrd. )

[magicalempath]

*pokes head back in*　 　hi?

[magicalempath]

#𝐌𝑨𝐆𝐈𝐂𝑨𝐋𝑬𝐌𝐏𝑨𝐓𝐇 ⨾            i     can't     come     home.          it's     too     late     for     me,     all     right?          some     mistakes     they're     just     too     big.      /      ( carrd. )       ©.

[magicalempath]

✨🧡🌙SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨

Thank you so much, honey! Right back at ya 🥰

[multistoty]

Tina had been required to stay in New York while Newt had went on his last trip. While she’d been given some permission to accompany in her husband’s travels, she was still an Auror and there’d been a case going on at the time. Not to mention Newt said it might be a couple of months. That was two and a half months ago now and while there had been several letters news from his end of the world (Egypt) was sporadic.

Which meant this was the longest time she’d been without proper contact to him since they married nearly two years prior. Usually this fine, Tina was capable of taking care of herself and doing what needed to be done. It just hadn’t helped that two weeks into his trip she’d been given certain news and it wasn’t as if she could just tell him to come home. Or if she told him in a letter that would result in him coming back anyway. And she’d been struggling with how to tell him of all things–

–Which in turn meant that she was refusing to tell anyone else outside of her boss (for obvious reasons). Tina felt Newt should be the first to know, which was tricky given how far away he was and, well– Things like her sister being able to read her mind. She’d been trying Occulmency, but it wasn’t something she’d been properly taught so she’d settled on other methods the books she had taught her. Like thinking of other things when around a legilimens.

She felt guilty for it– She rarely ever kept her mind from Queenie, but she felt she had good reason for it. Good reason or not, her sister’s mindreading ability was much better than the skills Tina had never quite honed. So it’s one night that she’s visiting Queenie in her apartment and a day of her stomach being violently against her that Tina freezes up. ‘How does it feel to, you know, be pregnant and all?’ 

Queenie had asked and  Tina found herself turning to her sister like a deer caught in a headlight. “I–” She breathed out, stammering, “What?” As if she didn’t know what. Her hand instinctively moved to hover near her stomach where she had began showing, but Tina’s habit of wearing loose fitting blouses was doing good at hiding that still. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tina continued– still not smoothly, still not at all truthful. Still, oh so very obvious.

@magicalempath

[magicalempath]

　 Understanding of her sister's reasons for being secretive, Queenie has been rather tactical, refraining from picking up a certain topic which seems to have been on Tina's mind for awhile. She's told herself she won't meddle unless absolutely necessary.

　Far too excited at her sister's current visit, she tries busying herself with the laundry and dishes flying around them. She finds herself throwing constant glances at Tina who's sat by her table, peeking at her thoughts. The question has slipped out before she can stop it and now that's its out, the blonde witch stops the movements of her hands and lets all objects find their way back to their regular places.

　Listening to her sister stammer, Queenie finds herself filled with affection, quickly beginning to forget that she'd been somewhat upset with Tina's decision to hide from her.

　　 ❛ 　 See, I know you didn't wanna tell me. 　 ❜ 　 she starts softly, almost apologetic for having brought it up so suddenly. She's pulling up a chair and joining her sister at the kitchen table.

　 ❛ 　 But you keep thinkin' 'bout it. 　 ❜ 　 she's beginning to smile a bit. 　 ❛ 　 So I got excited, you know. 　 ❜

[prioriiincantatem]

@magicalempath​ gets a starter!

Already it had been a long morning. Graves had just briefed her on yet another attack and she was very angry. How could they not be making any progress? Exiting the briefing room she strode around the desks heading for her office.  “Goldstein,” she barked, spotting a familiar pink accented character across the room. “ Tea, if you’d please, ” she said, pausing outside her office door before entering and closing it tightly behind her. She felt a headache growing.

[magicalempath]

　Already alarmed, she's up from her desk even perhaps a second before the president has instructed her. She need only take a quick glance at her and watch her slam her door before she's off to prepare what she's asked to.

　A minute later she's walking into her superior's office with a tray which she places carefully over the desk. She's taken the liberty of putting something sweet next to her tea. She takes a step back but lingers instead of leaving, subtly searching the woman's thoughts for what's troubling her.

　 ❛ 　 Is there anything else I can do to help ? 　 ❜ 　

[thatsecondsalemboy]

@magicalempath asked: ❛ 　 Why are you hiding your tears from me ? 　 ❜

He's begun to wonder if Nurmengard is in fact no less a prison than the Second Salem Church has ever been.

Oh, of course, here he could practice magic, here he could pore over books and scrawl on the board in his room, try to figure things out and learn new things. He'd drowned himself in knowledge, devouring book after book and yet still...

Yet still there are so many questions, and a cage is still a cage, even if it is gilded. And all the books in the world will never sooth that unbearable pain that coils in his chest. He's not stupid, he knows Grindelwald's offer of revenge is also a claim to his power. Ever unwanted and unloved for who he is, only sought after because of the beast that claws inside him, begging to be unleashed. It's killing him. Slowly but surely.

Scrubbing a hand across his face, he lifts his head a little in acknowledgement, though he doesn't turn to look at Queenie, not yet, gaze remaining downcast.

"Is it really hiding if you find out anyway?"

[magicalempath]

　She has approached him quietly, uncertainty even but finds herself pulled in by the fear, the anger filling his mind. She feels as though they wrap around her throat, demand to be looked at.

　 Her arms stay folded in front of her stomach and her fingers pull unconsciously at her old engagement ring. Head tilded only a bit to the side, she's paying great attention to the boy, a hint of almost motherly concern is on her face. His emotions seem to seep through his thoughts and she continues to take them in until her chest begins to feel heavier with borrowed sorrow.

　Her shoulders raise a bit when she takes in a breath, she seems to want to talk. Unsure of what words would do any good, she softens.

　　❛ 　 You're feeling trapped. 　 ❜ 　 the old habit of replying to her loved ones' most private thoughts seems inevitable. To ease his pain she must touch it as well. She's worried it's like touching a wound. 　 ❛ 　 I know what it's like. 　 ❜

[magicalempath]

Headcanon + how does Queenie take her tea?

She mainly drinks green or herbal tea, warm but not hot, a considerable amount of sugar ( not too much though ) and whenever she has the chance, something sweet to go with it is a must !

[magicalempath]

headcanon + Tina

　Sometimes when they get home from work Queenie wants to read but is too overwhelmed because of all the thoughts she's had to listen to through the day. So when Tina notices, she picks up a book and starts reading instead. She does it so that Queenie can listen to the book through her thoughts though she pretends it's only a coincidence. Of course, Queenie knows she does it for her.

[wavesxxlv]

[magicalempath]

@obscurebelief  ⨾　❛　I  hope  that  what  I've  said  hasn't  hurt  you  too  much.　❜

𝐍𝐎   𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑   𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒   𝐒𝐇𝐄   𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃   𝐇𝐄𝐑   𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃   𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘.   No   longer   does   she   flick   her   wrist   so   freely.   Even   now   when   she   sets   some   mugs   flying   in   the   air,   she's   wrapped   five   fingers   around   the   seashell   shaped   handle   and   holds   carefully   onto   it.   She's   pushed   her   shoulders   slightly   up,   her   eyes   have   narrowed.   She   no   longer   slouches   when   she   sits,   rarely   rests   her   head   in   her   hands   and   folds   her   bottom   lip   between   her   teeth   too   often.

Though   the   long   stretch   of   time   already   spent   in   the   castle   and   the   lack   of   faces   who've   known   her   before   prevent   her   from   clearly   seeing   any   change   that's   occurred   in   her,   she's   taken   to   noticing   the   changes   in   the   young   man   instead.   She   compares   him   who   stands   with   her   now   to   the   boy   she's   seen   countless   times   in   her   sister's   thoughts.   She   can't   help   it.   He's   grown   taller.   He,   too,   seems   to   have   changed   his   posture,   he,   too,   moves   his   hands   differently.   Every   now   and   then,   when   she   looks   at   him   carefully   she   can   take   a   glimpse   of   the   boy   he   used   to   be.   Every   now   and   then   she   thinks   she   can   see   Credence   Barebone   walk   the   corridors   of   the   vast,   cold   castle.   The   image   of   who   he   used   to   be   comes   with   her   sister's   name   echoing   in   her   mind.

     Now   she   sits   with   him   and   lets   the   two   mugs   she's   presently   filled   with   tea   settle   on   the   table   between   them.   She   puts   her   wand   down   next   to   her.   She   doesn't   rest   her   head   on   her   hands.   She   waits   and   doesn't   answer   just   yet.   She   keeps   her   back   straight,   one   hand   falls   aimlessly   on   the   table,   the   other   in   her   lap.   Queenie   looks   at   young   Aurelius   carefully,   with   a   touch   of   feminine   urgency   one   could   call   motherly.   She   looks   at   his   chin   and   his   cheekbones   and   searches   his   thoughts   gently   like   flipping   through   old   fairytales.

Finally   she   lifts   her   gaze   to   his   eyes   and   scrunches   her   nose   slightly   when   she   speaks.   　   ❛   　   It's         been         hard         for         everyone,         you         know.　   ❜   　   She's   relaxed   her   shoulders   only   a   bit   and   sounds   quiet   and   lovely,   even   through   the   haze   of   worry   and   strain,   even   bone-tired   and   homesick.   Who's   reading   whose   mind   now ?   The   things   he's   said   to   her   earlier   come   to   life   behind   her   eyelids   and   echo   in   her   head.   Hurt   her   they   have.   She   begins   to   lean   forward   and   reaches   for   her   mug.   It's   too   hot   and   she   retreats   her   hand   quickly.   She   won't   talk   about   Albus   Dumbledore   now,   she   won't   talk   about   any   task   the   boy   was   given.   She   won't   be   a   messenger   of   Grindelwald,   not   while   they   sit   at   this  table   which   she   regards   as   her   own.   Her   island   in   the   castle.　   ❛   　   You're         angry.   　   ❜   　   her   demeanor   grows   more   mellow.   She   used   to   be   angry   too.   She   used   to   be   angry   at   her   sister   and   she   used   to   be   angry   at   Jacob.   There's   a   small   pause.　   ❛   　   I'm         not         reading         your         mind         now.   　   ❜   　   she   doesn't   need   to   read   anything   to   recognize   the   same   breed   of   anger   in   him   as   her   own   old   one.

[filmtribv]

Fantastic Beasts & Where To Find Them (2016) dir. David Yates

[fantasticbeasts]

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them dir. David Yates | 2016

[magicalempath]

“Queenie?” Tina comes into your bedroom in the night.

She awakes quickly and suddenly at the sound of her sister's voice. It's too recognizable, even in her sleep. Queenie sits up with a touch of confusion, overtaken by some worry that the late hour brings. Her sister's thoughts still sound too distant to her sleepy mind and she squints slightly in the dark.

                    ❛ 　 Teen   ? 　 ❜

[magicalempath]

@madness-and-greatness ⨾

The heavy rain is to her a veil. She feels its deafening noise wrapped around her shoulders like a blanket, drowning out any other sound, making her ears ring. She's wandered through the halls of the castle and walked cautiously past the vast living room, she's shivered to the sound of countless thoughts clashing together like rabid dogs clicking their sharp teeth at her. She's strayed from the noisy group of fellow acolytes all huddled by the fire and seeked coldness by her own will.

Queenie stands by the edge of the thick stone shade of the castle and feels the rain reach her face, dampened curls cling to her sides. She's yet to be bothered by the cold, yet to worry about the threat of sickness. She keeps her arms crossed, holding tightly onto her coat.

Willing all foreign thoughts away, she never hears the wizard approach, not until he lets his presence be known. She flinches briefly not out of any fear of the man but to the surprise of finding another soul out in such weather. The peaceful noise of the sky is interrupted by his voice and Queenie begins to turn her head cautiously toward him. Her nose is red, her cheeks damp and rosy, eyelashes welling up with raindrops.

She fabricates a lovely smile and makes a small step closer, leans toward him to stand better under the shelter of his umbrella. She takes a moment before she replies to look better at his face and roam the thoughts he has provided for her to hear, like she wants to make sure he truly wants her answer. 　 ❛ 　 It's  quiet,  you  know. 　 ❜ 　 her voice is nearly drowned out by the roaring of the rain. She wants to tremble at the thought that he might think her explanation ridiculous, might not understand the importance of solitude. She doesn't mention that she's wondering if it's raining in New York too. That it was raining in London and it was raining in Paris, that it all comes with the reminder of home. 　 ❛ 　 Oh,  but  I  don't  mind  the  cold  ! 　 ❜ 　 she adds with lovely rain-soaked cheerfulness though her fingers have began turning red.

[magicalempath]

@classification-newt-scamander ⨾　 (　WEARY　) 　for  one  muse  to  wake  up  after  falling  asleep  on  the  other.

She's slipped into unconsciousness so smoothly she never felt her head drop on the magizoologist's shoulder. She's pressed the top of her head gently against his neck, her fair, blonde curls spill over her face, cover his upper arm and graze against his throat.

She's awakened by the quick, ruthless flashes of sunlight shining on her face through the windows of the moving train. Blinded by them now and wearily trying to shelter her eyes she wonders how she's fallen asleep in such bright weather in the first place. She doesn't seem to realize the circumstances until she feels some dull pain in her neck and begins to lift her head from Newt's shoulder.

She has a look of wonder and sleepy childlike confusion at the still rather unclear sight of messy ginger hair and sunlit freckles. Her cheek is rosy and marked by the pattern of his woven coat. She remains still for a second too long, eyes watery with sleep and sunshine stay unfocused between him and the fast-changing scenery outside the window of the train from Bhutan.

❛ 　 Hey, Newt.　 ❜ 　 She finds herself unsure what to say but allows herself to briefly bask in the chance to speak a name she hasn't heard at all in her time in Austria. She mindlessly places her hand over his shoulder for support while she sits up more properly. 　 ❛ 　 Sorry.　 ❜ 　 she mumbles, half-aware of his dislike of such physical closeness. She feels little remorse though and some warm fondness of waking up to an old friend.

[magicalempath]

@lamehnt ⨾　 (　INSOMNIA　) 　for  one  muse  to  find  the  other  still  awake  at  3am

She's stirred awake from light half-sleep by the hint of a foreign thought. Eyes narrow in the darkness, trying to seperate dream from reality unsure if what she hears is someone awake or a fragment of her sleepy imagination. She leans toward the latter — who can be awake so late?

Slowly, as she sits up in her bed and feels the light covers shift around her, the voice she hears starts to become familiar, too clear to be her imagination. The man's thoughts taste like the dead of night. Queenie's own sleepiness is shaken off and she leaves her warm bed with little reluctance. She opens her door slowly and quietly and sneaks out into the corridor, walks barefoot toward the voice and tries to blink the darkness away.

She dons a weary midnight smile when she approaches the auror she only briefly knows and looks like a lost or mischievous child. When she speaks, even her breath tastes like late hours and sleep. 　 ❛ 　 Trouble sleeping, honey   ? 　 ❜ 　 She feels deep, warm sympathy for any creature awake so late and roams Theseus' thoughts with care and caution. 　 ❛ 　 Why don't'cha try some nice cocoa,  hm   ?　 ❜