#and if anyone finds a typo in any of these letters don't tell me because i'll fucking cry

[hasufin]

Wooden shoes

Every time I see someone thinking about looking for a better job, I see them doing the same things, and I have the same advice: stop sabotaging yourself.

Mind, that's not The Fix. I have no advice which guarantees a good job, especially in a job market where something like 40% of posted jobs don't even exist, and about half of the remainder are just open in case they find a Unicorn and they don't intend to hire anyone ever anyway.

But that said, I see so much self-sabotage, so many people who round-file themselves. And that's just taking work away from the HR droids, who I assure you have a round file of their own. So, my advice:

Your resume is not the place for humility. Be bold. Be proud. Be positive. You are not apologizing for or explaining away anything negative on your resume, because you're not SAYING anything negative on your resume.

Your resume is a place to sculpt your narrative. What you want is for it to tell a story: this is where you were, this is where you are now... and the logical, sensible next step in the story is the job for which you are currently applying. Ideally, you want them invested in this story, you want them to see that giving you this job is something they, too, want to see.

Speaking of the job - shoot your shot. I see - and have been at times - many people who get intimidated by a job which lists a high salary or some random experience requirement, and they say "Oh no, that's not meant for people like me." And maybe it isn't! But maybe you don't know your own worth. Maybe HR decided to beef up the listing after the hiring manager submitted the req. Whatever. Point is, right now you don't have the job. The worst case scenario after you apply is, you still don't have the job. You are no worse off for having applied, so apply.

Lie. Lie, lie, lie. Those job listings are fucking stupid and we know it. More importantly, they often have ridiculous requirements. I'm not saying "completely make shit up", but if the listing says you need 5 years of experience with a product and you only have 3 years... you have 5 years. If there's an arbitrary cutoff, you are on the side of that line which benefits you. Your current salary is more than you actually make. You do have the experience. You can lift 15 lbs over your head. Nothing you can't back up in an interview, of course, but if they're gonna bullshit up the job listing, you can bullshit up the application.

Review your own work That means double-check your resume and cover letter - you always make the dumbest fucking typos. It also means, look over your resume and make sure you can back up whatever you put down if you're asked about it later. Because the interviewer isn't looking at the dates, and is just quizzing you on what's on the sheet of paper. Including the thing you did at that job ten years ago which you don't remember.

You can nope out whenever you want. This is the other side of number 3. You can apply even if you're not sure you want the job. You can get halfway through the process and decide you don't want it. You can get to the 7th interview and decide they've had you jump through too many hoops. You can get the offer and decide it's a toxic work environment. You are under zero obligations until they offer you the job and you accept the offer. Up until that point, nothing is certain, and no one has made any commitments. Also, those commitments are utterly meaningless unless they're in writing.

Overall - know your worth, and ask for more. If you lose an opportunity by being too confident and too capable, they were looking for a victim anyway.

[duskterrace]

✉️🥀

tw: long ass post. ✉️ : LETTERS TO SANTA

Raffa,

Heads up this is kinda lame, but I was told to be honest so this is me, being honest for once.I don’t really know how to start or end these, so I guess I'll start with a quote that I read lately that reminded me of you. “meeting you was like listening to a song for the first time knowing it would be my favorite.” This one stood out to me for a while, and I couldn't quite figure out why. Maybe I wasn't exactly sure how to do that. Because it would mean that I would have to be honest with myself about how I felt about you. Because it would mean that the second I am honest, I'll have to let those harbored feelings go. And I can admit…I didn't want to let them go. No one really wants to give up on a crush they’re harboring deep within themselves. Sometimes because they’re afraid a small piece of them will break off along with the person sized chunk they tore out of their chest. Other times because there's always that residual feeling of hope that one day, just maybe, if you try hard enough, that person will find space in their heart for you too. But that's not the case for us. For me, I mean. To give some back story ( excuse any typos because my hands are starting to get shaky hah ), I met you through Noa and Jaehyun so many times and thought you were just… so, so cool. At first it was awe, like when you finally find someone you can look up to. Someone to aspire to be like. It wasn’t love at first sight, in fact I didn't feel anything past platonic feelings. But then, that one…weird night when I was at my lowest ( mentally ), you came to the rooftop while I was up there doing my ‘pretty dorky’ studies on planets. We both knew you were searching for Noa and happened to stumble on me but, you being the nice person you were, noticed i wasn't in the best mood and you stuck around. I don’t know what that night did to me, but despite it being below 60 degrees… I was oddly warm talking to you that night. I, a person so….detrimentally afraid of falling…fell so hard in less than 3 hours and it shook me to my core. Achilles and the words he said to Patroclus had nothing on the things I wanted to say to you. And what…made me fall so hard, you might ask? You made a dumb fucking joke about the stars, and your smile just….messed me up from then on. The stars themselves couldn’t compare to it. And the rasp within your deep laugh was like the knife i twisted within myself, because i knew i was genuinely…fucked. I started looking forward to seeing you around. I started, despite knowing that this –that feelings– never usually end well for me, started looking forward to simple interactions between us after that. At first just noticing that weird flutter in the pit of my stomach when you’d pop up, to full blown waiting for my next fix of you as if I was addicted to the butterflies you gave me. I’d cherish those fleeting occasional texts, the “ hey’s ” or nods in the hallway and the random tiktok’s you sent about…fuck knows, but they made me laugh. I…fuck, this is beyond embarrasing. Why did it have to be you? I don’t know why my heart skipped a beat when it came to you, and i can’t lie, i tried to will and pray the feeling away. But, you were like that karma I wasn't ready for. Your name furiously etched itself into my heart in a way that no one else’s ever had and before I realized it, before I could erase it to save myself from the doom that was welcoming me, it was practically tattooed there.

Don't get me wrong … I’ve had my rib cage broken into and left empty countless times. So I know the routine by now. It’s very fond of me, so I almost welcome it. Fall, break my own heart before anyone else can, tell myself it is what it is, give up on feelings for a bit, hyper-focus on my studies, meet someone again, rinse and repeat. Over and over. And I did that with you. Twice. Broke my own heart to give it some relief from being painfully aware you wouldn't see you the same way I saw you. But you’d come back with that dumb smile again and – oh how fast i’d realize i was putty in your hands. At some point, i was almost 100% sure I was just infatuated. And I probably was. I hopefully was just simply pining for you for superficial reasons but… whenever I sat down to sketch to just clear my mind, the only face that came to mind was yours. The way the sun catches the slope of your cheek, the deep grooves of your jaw, the crook in your smile, the warm undertone in your skin, and the shapes your mouth makes when you're yelling to a friend from across the common room. On countless occasions, I closed my eyes to imagine the personification of beauty itself, expecting to see Aphrodite and the only image behind those veils of black that I created–– the only thing that ever comes up–– is you. You and the way your lips round out to pronounce my name, the rich color of your eyes when light is reflecting in them, and how shadows will literally bend to your frame like my will bends to accommodate yours. I know it probably sounds weird to hear ‘one of your boys’ tell you this ... so I feel like I have to mention that it's been months since that day and I do everything in my power to distance us so that these feelings fade on their own. But there are those days where everyones hanging out and I can't just avoid you, and there it is again, the idea that maybe one day. We could be something. Simply because you sat next to me. Simply because you asked about the stars again. When I'm with you…it's so fucking weird. I get homesick for arms that have never held me. Arms that honestly, probably definitely never wanted to. Sometimes i feel like this is the curse that comes with my power. Not feeling like I'm enough in either gender. Not being able to be permanently female when I need to be, nor permanently male when it's asked of me. But… I think what I hate most about it–– or really, what I hate about myself–– is that if I could choose who I was and I had a shot with you? I know I’d do it 10 times over for a single chance to have you look at me the way you do her. And that’s not healthy. My powers always manifest as however i feel and lately when i'm with you, by default, i’m always….female. Almost as if I'm teetering between wanting to be what you like and being heartbroken knowing these actions to make you want me won't be permanent. I know it won't happen, but I can't help but…hold out hope. Anyway i’m just fucking around and wasting your time huh? I’ve bottled these feelings long enough to know that wishing for you would only make one of us happy, so the one thing I really want for Christmas is to see your smile for as long as I can. That and to q u i c k l y get over you because jesus fuck, man, this pining thing isn't a good look. I’d like at least a pinch of dignity in 2024. Um…so yeah. I think the hardest thing I'll ever do is walk away despite still being head over heels for you. So, despite the fallen tears slipping down the back of my hands as I write this. Despite every bit of my soul wishing to hold onto you for just a moment longer– for just a single milli-second longer. I think this letter is me giving you up, officially. Maybe… in another universe, or in another lifetime, there's space for you and me, but it’s not this one. You aren’t mine. And I have to make peace with that. Also– Feliz Navidad, btw. Heh, Duolingo coming in clutch, once again huh?

Sincerely, Nasa Nerd.

[ this letter was left in drafts. ]

🥀 : 3AM DRUNK TEXT

( ✉️ ) SMS → PA RAFFA THE RAPPA

delivered / 03:25 am ✓ › you caillou built assh bitch where tf is my phone i saw yu take it???

delivered / 03:30 am ✓ › i hope a roach crawls across yur forehead tonitghte 😒

delivered / 03:40 am ✓ › nvm i founfded it. my bad.

#⁺ 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐋 ₊ / meme. #// raf unfortunately won the “who gets this blurb” raffle so...sorry pmsl. #w / 2ndfromearth #// not me forgetting jinsol speaks Spanish ??

[taylorgraymoore]

November 21, 2023

In the interest of building a social media presence, I am going to try to post new stuff online on a regular basis from now on. 

I won't say I'll do it once a day, because that's a promise I won't be able to keep. But regularly.

Some of it will be alright; some of it will be awful. Hopefully it inspires some people to keep reading. A lot of it will be diary like—free-form stuff. Like this. Most of it will probably be a bit like this. Sometimes it'll be poetry; sometimes it'll be drafts from stories I'm working on; or outlines. I’m not sure. I just know I need to keep stuff coming if I want to exist on here in any meaningful way.

I've previously tried to get my foot in the door the traditional way. Submitting stuff to journals, small presses, waiting six months for a rejection letter. Because of my personality, and the odd kind of writing I produce, and because it is also just very hard in general, I find this like pulling teeth. So I'm trying a more self promotional route. Because, (on top of what I said above), I am also starting to believe that, with such an approach, the best I can probably hope for is to be a minor blip on the CanLit radar by the time I'm sixty, with a small handful of what I’d done published. And I'll probably have to heavily change the sort of writing I do, over time, to get there. Not just kill my darlings but cut bits off their corpses and remake them in the industry’s image. 

I don't really want to change the stuff I do: I like the stuff I do. That's not to say I'm not open to critique, I am, but I know I do not fit in that box mentioned above, and I don't really want to contort myself so that I do. I write for pleasure, basically—and that would feel awful. I’d rather stop writing entirely than turn it into something that feels awful. And I know I’m not going to stop writing.

So. Here I am. 

No, this is not the best thing you've ever read. I promise it will be better, sometimes. But just so you know what to expect.

I'm looking into self publishing. I mean to self publish a couple of poetry collections in the near future. I have a novella I'm trying to finish too. Hopefully I'll still be able to get my foot through the traditional door with some other stuff--yes, I write too much. I know. I feel like I'm drowning in it sometimes. I can't help doing it. It gives my life meaning. 

There have been times when literally the only reason I've gotten out of bed in the morning is because I have something I'm writing, and I want to get back to it. I love it. I'm married to it. 

I am afraid that I won't care if it gets out to the world, because it means so much to me and it doesn't matter if it's only mine alone, it still means that much. But I would rather make some kind of imprint. Because even if writing is an end, what is writing for but sharing? You don't tell a story to a wall. You tell a story to people. Often I only tell it to myself. I am even writing this to myself. Is there anyone reading this? Not yet. Too soon to call. Doesn't matter.

I am on the SkyTrain, writing this on the way home from work. I work in a BC Liquor Store in Richmond. Sometimes I really do write on the back of unclaimed receipts, but I do that less now. It's a form of desperation. It makes the span of time less brutally empty.

Let’s see how long I keep this up. 

P.S. I know there are typos.

#diary entry #canlit #prose #vancouver #richmond #writing #language #culture #spilled ink

[oleanderblume]

Me casually remembering I was sent a personalized letter written by an evangelical church I've never once attended that knew both my personal address AND deadname, telling me to repent for my sins.

No shit though. The letter was so noticeably hand written it had typos and the mailing address was *hand* written. Like pen on paper type stuff.

My sister is telling me to stay the fuck away (which yes, obviously) because I live in a very red, very small town.

But fuck. These guys know my personal address. Which, granted, I'm only home 1 week out of the month. But for December I'll be home for the whole month.

Hate crimes and harassment against trans and lgbt folks is on the rise in my state. Fuck, a whole ass church is literally calling for our mass genocide. And that church is roughly 30 minutes from me.

When I got the letter I thought it was funny. Like the "Oh no honey, I'm not going to your church, I'm everything you want to pray away" way.

But now..I'm thinking it might be more sinister than that...like a really subtle way of saying "we know what you are and who you are and how to find you"

Because I literally do not go to church. I'm not Christian and never have been. I went when I was like, 12, but the churches I went to were big chain churches like Stonewater. Places that were *relatively* positive towards people of all kinds.

The one that sent this letter is one I've never been to, never heard of, and it is one of the many, likely more extreme churches in my home town (seriously there's a church on every God damned corner)

So the idea that they not only have my personal address, but that they sent a letter *specifically* to me, of all people in my family (who, mind you, ALSO do not go to church at all, whatsoever) is thinking about it, really fucking creepy.

Like how did they get my adress?? Did they buy it from a data mine? How do they know me specifically? I'm not in any address books because I don't have a land line. Neither does *anyone* in that house.

ALL my names on all my social media's are either Wren or Oleander. The only deadname I have is through one of like 5 emails I have. Of which none are used for any church shit.

I'd sooner get a letter from a loan company than a fucking church.

And yet, some lady took the time to find my adress and my legal name, type out a personalized letter to me specifically, hand write the postal adress and have it mailed to me.

Or. Because the letter is from my town. They put it in the mailbox themselves. Which is scarier.

Anyways. The church is (I think) Faith Assembly of God or something? I asked my mom if she still had it but she shredded it soo...

I'm going to look into the churches in my home town cause honestly. My fear is that they are an extremist church and pester my family until they out me. Or, they already know I'm trans, and start harrassing my family, thinking im the one receiving most of the harrassment.

Biggest fear is that they 1. Know I'm trans. 2. Know my adress. 3. Are extremists and intend to harm me or my family.

My dad is a shitstain, but he wouldn't let folks just rock up and harass me on his property, despite the fact that he hates me being trans.

The issue would arise if my parents *don't* know the intentions of this church and inadvertently out me, and likely not understand how dangerous that is right now. Like yeah, I barely fucking pass but still.

I don't want to be attacked by evangelicals in my own home. And I definitely don't want my family dealing with harassment meant for me.

[vespertine-legacy]

☏   What letter would the OC write their LI if the LI was the one who became the Outlander after Marr’s ship is destroyed? For Raz/Shara (Is this the one you were dreading?)

[doubled up, because @pauletta-00 also asked: ☏ with Raz? Time for some pain (but let's be honest, you knew I'd send this one for her).]

All righty, who is ready to possibly be mildly upset by my response? Y’all had better like this, because I spent entirely too much time on this. You get not one, not two, but THREE letters written by Raz in response to mara!Shara being the Outlander. (Also “is this the one you were dreading” come on I’m super sad about mara!Shara now and mad at my brain for deciding that she is canon, I just wanted her to hit people with lightsabers not get thrown in carbonite by Arcann).

First up, Raz writes to Shara in the immediate aftermath:

Next, a couple years into the Carbonite Nap:

And lastly, as a treat, Raz writes to one of my favorite Dark Lords, because in my canon Darth Zhorrid is still around Causing Problems on Purpose (and made Raz Keeper as a last-ditch effort to try to save Intellimess, because actual game canon for the Agent sparks very little joy for me and I threw most of it out the window).

#swtor #swtor oc raz #shara jenn #mara!shara #watcher two where are you #watcher two i love you #hms priorities #swtor imperial agent #swtor kotfe #swtor crack au that got out of hand and became my personal canon #and if anyone finds a typo in any of these letters don't tell me because i'll fucking cry #i've looked at them too long and none of them have actual words anymore as far as i'm concerned #depending on your feelings now blame or thank starknstarwars or pauletta #starknstarwars

[randomshyperson]

THE SCARLET WITCH PROPHECY - Chapter VI - The Fourth Year (Final Part)

Gif is not mine, blessed are the gif makers.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. | Chapters Warnings: Heavy angst in this.

A/N: This took me a while, because i had writer block (and it's not over yet). Anyway, I hope people like this. Let me know if anything is confusing okay? Sorry about typos too.

Words counting: 11.344K

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

//-//

The Fourth Year - Final Part

Wanda was avoiding you. Well, not just you, but all your friends.

You told Gamora what happened, but you didn't have the stomach to repeat the story to anyone else, so your sister passed the news on.

You were coping well in spite of everything. You missed her terribly the whole time, but you were pushing the feelings down and trying to stay positive about everything.

By trying to put yourself in Wanda's shoes, you understood why she did what she did. You just had to find a way to prove to her that what you felt was real, and for that you needed to find out more about your magical bond.

Your best alternative to the lack of books about it in the library was to talk to the professors. Judging from your experience with them, none of the teachers would tell you anything. But Fury has been acting very differently all year, and although you don't agree with the way he has been teaching D.A.D.A. lately, you have the impression that he would tell you anything you asked.

That's why after a particularly exhausting class where he made all students practice the shield spell until one of the boys threw up, you waited until the room emptied to talk to him, watching with curiosity as he turned a small bottle he kept in his pocket to his mouth.

"What is it Stark?" He asked still on his back. You wondered if behind the eye patch he had some enchanted eye to see around things, but the idea seemed too absurd to you.

"Sorry, Professor Fury." You say. "I have a question about advanced magic and would like to clear it with you."

Fury put his materials away in his bag, and beckoned for you to accompany him into the private office, and you followed him into the small room, watching him set the desk on a coffee table and move toward a glass cabinet of magic supplies.

"Have a seat and make yourself comfortable." He said with his back turned. "I need to prepare a potion, but you can ask me what you want."

You stumble half-heartedly to one of the empty armchairs, and then clear your throat.

"It's about magic bonds, professor." You recount. "I... well, I think I have one. And well, I'm not finding much material on it, and I don't understand how they work."

Fury makes a noise with his mouth in understanding, his hands wandering through the cabinets behind ingredients you don't recognize, but he seems to be paying attention to both you and the brewing of the potion.

"Are you familiar with the concept of magical bonds and connections, Miss Stark?" He asks and you deny it. The professor cuts something that looks like mushrooms on the table as he speaks again. "The reason you can't find books that explain to you exactly the nature of this magic, is because no wizard has been able to decipher these enchantments correctly." He explains. "The magical bonds are one of the oldest and most powerful enchantments in the magical world, Miss Stark. Extremely dangerous, yet immeasurably valuable for some purposes."

You swallow dryly, but do not interrupt. Professor Fury bends down to reach a tin cauldron and places it on the counter in front of him, on a small makeshift stove. He deposits some ingredients inside.

"Have you ever heard about any of these bonding spells?" He asks and you think for a moment.

"I think I've heard about the perpetual vow, sir."

Fury gives a small smile, nodding. He sniffs a small bottle before pouring the contents into the cauldron.

"Yes, the perpetual vow is a great example of a magical bond." He says. "But it is still an active spell, you need to recite an incantation and both parties need to voluntarily close the bond. Some witches believe it's a contractual magic, much more than a natural connection." Fury explains. "I particularly prefer to use another example, Stark. The life debt."

Fury has a smile at the corner of his lips, and a strange gleam in his eyes when he looks at you for a moment, but you don't have the courage to ask. He turns his attention back to the cauldron, lighting the flame under the metal with his wand.

"I don't know what that means." You confess and the professor doesn't take his eyes off the cauldron.

"A life debt is a magical bond created when a wizard or witch saves the life of another magical being." He explains. "And I say magical being, not just another wizard, because I've seen it happen once for a centaur to owe a wizard their life. But never the other way around."

"How does that work?"

"It's very simple really." He says. "If you save someone's life, that person or creature will owe you a debt. The bond is created, without needing an incantation. The act of preserving a life is magical enough to create that bond." He explains and his expression turns almost somber. "The best part is that the person saved needs to pay back."

"And how do they do it?"

"A life can only be paid with another life." He declares. By now, the potion is smelling. You don't know what it is, but it looks like lavender, and it makes you a little dizzy. "I have witnessed a quitting in my time as an auror, Miss Stark." He tells you, and you already imagine that what he is about to say is not something you should tell a fourteen-year-old witch, but you don't think to interrupt. "The debtor throws himself in front of the Reducto incantation to prevent the death of the witch who saved him once. I still remember the pieces flying around the room."

You looked away, uncomfortable with the mental image you were given. The professor didn't seem to mind.

"But of course not all debts are paid off like that." He added as if he hadn't just told the story of someone tearing themselves apart. "Stopping a friend from falling off his broom in a game of quidditch might be enough to pay off a debt. Or to create one too." He counters. " This kind of magic has always been very difficult to decipher."

You murmur in understanding, keeping your gaze on the floor. The professor sighs lightly, moving away from the cauldron to sit in the empty armchair in front of you.

"But I'm guessing you're not talking about any of these bonds, are you?" He hints and you swallow dryly, feeling intimidated by the watchful gaze he gives you. You figure that lying is not an option.

"N-no sir." You reply. "I wanted to know more about protective bonds. Like... like the idea of someone you care about getting hurt, causes you a really bad feeling. And it makes you ignore your own safety and makes you go too far e...."

"Impressive." The professor interrupts, his gaze almost fascinated on you, and making you swallow dryly. "And how far are we talking about, Stark? What's the limit? Would the wizard put themselves in front of an unforgivable curse? Would they offer themselves up as a sacrifice? If one were to get hurt, would the bruises show up on the other, or does the very idea make your insides turn? Or…”

"Fury." You jump in fright when Strange's voice interrupts the monologue of the other man, who was very close to you now.

Fury looks annoyed that he has been cut off, but he turns away with a smile. "Pardon the interruption. I need to have a word with you on a matter." Stephen said, but he didn't look happy at all, and his expression was one of concern and disapproval, probably from the discussion he witnessed.

You stood up awkwardly, taking a step back, your heart still racing from the things the professor told you.

"Of course, Professor Strange." Fury spoke as he stood up. "Stark, I hope that has cleared up your doubts. If there is anything else you wish to ask me, you may come to my office as needed."

You bit your tongue to avoid saying that Fury only scared you rather than clarifying anything, and nodded in understanding.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts may not be my class, but I am also available to talk with you, Miss Stark." Stephen added softly as you passed him in the doorway. You mumbled a goodbye before walking out of the office, ignoring the horrible feeling that settled in your stomach.

//-//

You were really disturbed by the conversation with Professor Fury. The story of the wizard casting himself in front of a spell gave you strange dreams, and you could no longer be sure that you wouldn't do the same for Wanda.

Your friends were equally impressed by what you told them, and you ignored the feeling of dissatisfaction at the pit of your stomach that you felt because you wish you were talking to Wanda about it, and tried to be more grateful that you have someone to talk to at all.

You were thinking of talking to Tony about everything, and you thought you'd look for him in the Slytherin hall, and to your surprise, he showed up in your common room. You thought he was there to spend some time with Steve, but he really came to see you.

"Daddy wrote for us." He explains as soon as he greets you. The letter already open in your hands as he throws himself on the couch in the communal hall. It is Sunday, but the room is very empty because with the amount of free time and foreigners in the castles, most of the students are socializing outside. You had dismissed your friends' invitation to practice Quidditch in exchange for a nap, as you were upset by the way Wanda left the main hall at breakfast when she realized you were sitting at the Slytherin table with her brother.

"Finally." You grumble as you sit down in the armchair across from Tony, stretching out your arm to pick up the letter. It must have been the first letter in three months or more. Last time, your father had said he was overwhelmed with work and would not send any news for a while. You thought it would be days, but it was months. Jarvis at least wrote to tell that he was alive, working in the basement.

Looking down at the paper, you began to read:

"Dear children, how is school going? I hope you are studying as I have always asked you to do. I have been busy with an important project at the ministry, an invention to improve the astronomical forecasts of the wizarding community. Please forgive me for the lack of contact these last months.

Tony, I received the letter about the detention, and I was quite upset when I heard about the bet. You are the older brother and you should protect your sister, not put her in danger. But I am glad that everything ended well and hope that this kind of behavior will not happen again.

Y/N, dear, I heard about your willingness to start studying Muggle Studies, and I'm very glad..."

You stop reading the letter halfway through, frowning and looking at Tony next, who was lying with his head on the cushions and his arm under his eyes.

"What kind of crap is this?" you ask with confusion and irritation, causing Tony to let out a short chuckle. "Dad telling us to study? What the...?"

"It doesn't sound anything like him, I know." Tony interrupts and then sighs, sitting down on the couch to point to the paper. "And see how he doesn't make any jokes about the dare, or any comments about your incident at the lake? It sounds so mechanical and vague."

"Do you think he hasn't read our letters? He only mentions the one from school." You say and Tony leans back on the couch, thoughtful.

"I don't know. It just doesn't sound like him." He says. "I wouldn't be surprised to find out that Jarvis wrote it."

"Why would Jarvis do that?"

"Because Dad hasn't spoken to us in three months." Tony retorts with irritation. "And well, you almost drowned and he didn't even bother to read about it."

"Tony..."

"No, it's fine." He grumbles, taking the letter from your hands and standing up. "Screw him." Cursed the boy in annoyance, tossing the letter into the fireplace in the room. You frowned, sighing. "We don't need him. I'll take care of you."

You were tired of this. Running a hand through your hair for a moment in frustration, you let Tony take your hands in his as he knelt in front of you next.

"I'm sorry I've been absent this while." He says surprising you. "I hated how all the adults were hiding things from us, and I did the same with you. I promise I will tell you everything from now on."

You nod in understanding, squeezing Tony's hand lightly.

"I need to tell you something too."

And you do. The whole conversation with Wanda and with Professor Fury shock Tony. And he has a frown creased in concern when you finish.

"I know it's a lot." You say. "But I'm terrified. I don't know what will happen to me if I lose Wanda, and all I can do is miss her."

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Tony says tenderly, releasing his hand to caress your cheeks and wipe away the dripping tears. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

"What if you can't avoid it, Tony?" you retort softly, your voice whiny.

"I will." He assures you. "I will help you. We'll figure out a way to break this bond, and then you and Wanda will be safe."

You nod, deciding to believe his words. Your brother hugs you next, and you wish he is right.

//-//

Just like you, Tony was also unable to gain access to the restricted section of the library. But that is the least of your problems.

As the date of the last task approaches, you are a pile of nerves. Tony assures you that he will try to find something about ways to break magical bonds on the last trip to Hogsmeade in a local library, but you are barely listening to him, your thoughts wandering towards Wanda.

The other girl, on the other hand, continues to avoid you and your friends. Your only option is to ask Pietro about her, and he assures you that she is as upset as you are as if he is trying to make you feel better somehow. But all this information causes is a worsening of your distress. Pietro is not comfortable coming between you two, so you don't insist that he spend time with you or your friends, knowing that Wanda needs company. You also insist that Gamora and Nebula continue to spend time with the witch, but they comment that Wanda is not really sociable after the whole thing.

The rest of the school starts to notice the way the Maximoffs are no longer hanging out with you, and since everyone in the school loves a little gossip, the news that you and Wanda broke up starts to circulate very quickly.

You don't want your detention for the lake story to escalate, but it's hard to control the urge to jinx your classmates when their snarky remarks reach your ears.

"I heard they broke up because Wanda became a champion, and didn't want to be seen with a hufflepuff anymore." Said in a not so low tone, a Ravenclaw boy as you were walking ahead of them toward the Potions classroom.

"No, dude, that's not true. I heard that Wanda got pretty close to the other champion, Jean Grey, and obviously she'd go for a famous quidditch player than a nobody." Added a female voice, and you clutched the books in your hands tightly, but didn't turn around.

"Come on, the girl's a Stark." Retorted the boy. "I think Maximoff is a winner with either one."

The girl laughed lightly, and you wished you reach the classroom soon.

"I think you're right." The girl spoke up. "Maximoff has always been weird, I don't know how she got such great options."

Your attention wandered from the conversation when Mantis reached you. She went back to the dorm to get the potions book she had forgotten, and frowned at your annoyed posture when she arrived, but when she caught the words of the pair behind you, she threw them an annoyed look that made them fall silent.

"Don't pay any attention to that kind of gossip, Y/N." She asked gently and you just sighed.

"I just wish people would mind their own business." You grumble annoyed and Mantis agrees with a murmur.

Potions class was as difficult as it usually is. What surprised you was Professor Lensherr's tired appearance, but you imagined it must be because of the tournament finals that were being organized by the teachers.

When you were packing your materials, you almost knocked over the glass jar when he appeared in front of you.

"Stark, a word, please." He asked earnestly, and Mantis shot you a glance before hurrying to leave. The professor waited until the room was empty and then nodded to the door, which closed. "Wanda told me about your magic bond."

"Shit." You grumbled immediately, and Professor Erik raised his eyebrows. You cleared your throat, apologizing for cursing. "Look, sir, I don't know what else to say about it. I don't know where the bond came from, and I'm trying to find out..."

"I can help." He interrupts and you fall silent, surprised.

"Really?"

"Yes." He says straightening his posture and crossing his arms. "I obviously have more magical knowledge than you, and your nosy brother." He says and you understand that he is talking about the way Tony has been pestering the teachers to get information. "And if this bond affects Wanda, it is of particular interest to me."

You swallow dryly, nodding in understanding. You explain to him how you feel next, and Erik absorbs your words with a neutral expression.

"Interesting. I had my theories since you couldn't duel with Wanda in the second year, but since you became close, it wasn't my place to intrude.” He tells with a bit of a nostalgic face as you finish speaking. “I have a few questions, Miss Stark. I need clarification on the nature of this bond." He says with his arms still folded across his chest. "Last summer, Wanda had a cold. Did you feel anything?"

You thought about the vacation for a few seconds.

"No, sir." You reply. "I don't remember getting sick."

"I see." He says. "Tell me, have you ever had dragon pox?"

You nod in agreement.

"At how old?" The teacher asks, and you think for a moment.

"I don't know, four I think. Maybe five."

"Wanda had dragon pox when she was six." He declares, his gaze assessing you. You blink, trying to follow what he is trying to say. "It's not a very common disease in England, is it?"

"I don't think so." You mutter without understanding why the professor is looking at you like that.

"Wanda caught the disease in Sokovia, the country where she was born." He recounts. "We were on vacation and she came back sick. The last case of that disease here in England was almost a hundred years ago."

"I guess I'm unlucky then." You try to joke, and Erik almost smiles.

"The flu Wanda had last summer was not of magical origin." He adds, and you frown slightly, not knowing what to make of this information. "But dragon pox is magical in nature."

"Professor I don't..."

"Wanda broke her wrist at the age of seven." He interrupts as he uncrosses his arms, gesturing slightly. "She and Pietro were playing in the backyard, no magic."

"Okay..."

"I imagine Wanda has already talked to you about her exceptional magical abilities, Miss Stark." The professor continues. "Her visible magic, I meant. It started when she was three years old, when she was able to bring her toys into her crib and wrap them all in a magical cloud." Erik tells and you smile briefly at the image of a baby Wanda, but his expression makes you bite the inside of your cheek the next second. "I want to know how much of this you were able to experience, being on the other side of the country."

You swallow dryly, looking away and trying to think back to your childhood.

"I don't know, professor." You reply. "I was a child. Maybe Tony or dad will know something."

"Come on, isn't there anything you can tell me?" He insists. "Any specific memories, any strange dreams? Anything."

You think, and think, but none of your childhood memories seem relevant. And then you frown, remembering one.

"Actually... There was this one time I got really sick. I think I was about eight. Maybe nine, and dad took me to St.Mungus. I had a high fever, and I couldn't sleep at night with nightmares, but I don't remember what happened. They thought it might be the flu, but we never found out what it was. The next day I was better."

Erik was slightly wide-eyed and then he sighed.

"Before she came to Hogwarts, Wanda was afraid of losing control of her magic at school." He starts to tell. "I tried to calm her down, but she was very upset. She managed to convince Pietro to help her into my potions room and took an entire bottle of a brew for magical containment. Her magic seemed almost enraged, and she destroyed the greenhouse with a wave of energy. I've never seen her so out of control." He says thoughtfully, as if remembering the events. "She passed out from exhaustion, and didn't wake up until the morning. She was ten.”

"You don't think...?"

"That's exactly what I think, Miss Stark." He interrupts, "The dates match. Every time Wanda was in danger from a magical source, you were affected, because the nature of your bond with her is magical. And that was confirmed during the tournament by noticing the way you jumped into the lake during the second task. I imagine your little interaction with Professor Heimdall when Wanda was facing the dragon was about this as well?" He asks and you nod your head in confirmation. "Right. Well, that's a problem."

"I noticed." You grumble, but then realize from the professor's expression that in addition to what has been said, it seems to be a problem for another reason. "Why?"

"Regarding your safety, I mean." Explains the professor. "The last task of the tournament is going to be exceptionally challenging, and perhaps not the best of experiences for you."

You widen your eyes in anticipation.

"Professor, what will happen in the third task?"

"I can't tell you." He says. "But there will be many challenges. And Wanda may encounter difficulties, especially since she is only fifteen."

You sigh, trying to push the wave of worry down.

"I hate this tournament." You state in a mumble and Professor Erik gives a short little smile. "I hate to see Wanda in danger. If it's for the gold, she can have all mine."

Erik laughed, and you blinked in surprise at the sound.

"Believe me, I dislike this competition as much as you do." He says. "There is no pleasure in seeing Wanda in danger for something as superficial as eternal glory. But the goblet chose her, and she would have suffered a magical penalty if she didn't obey the contract. It was a difficult decision, but it was the best for her."

You mutter in understanding and the teacher is thoughtful for a few minutes.

"I would recommend you not watch the competition so you don't get so nervous, but clearly distance doesn't matter for the bond." He remarks. "I need more information about how all this works. I want to run some tests with you two."

You frown slightly, but before you can ask what kind of tests, the teacher speaks again.

"That will need to wait, of course. With the competition and the final exams, I understand that you are experiencing enough stress and I don't want to cause any more suffering." He explains. "Over the vacations, perhaps I can write to your father. It's time to see old friends again after all."

You are surprised that the professor makes this mention, but you don't bother to comment. He clears his throat, and signals that this is all. You thank him as you get up and then leave the room.

//-//

When the day of the last task of the tournament finally arrived, the whole school was in a joint peak of excitement.

You could hardly sleep, strange nightmares throughout your entire night combined with the anxiety at the pit of your stomach made you wake up several times during your sleep. In the morning you decided to ignore the buzz around the hallways about the task and the possible winner, and joined your friends for breakfast.

You wanted to talk to Wanda, but you didn't see her at the Slytherin table, and Gamora tried to cheer you up with news about a band you liked playing in London next month, but you could barely force a smile, feeling tired and irritated.

You heard a group of Gryffindors commenting excitedly that the occultation spell had been removed from the quidditch field, and that the gates of something that had been conjured for the last task were already visible, but before you could try to hear what they were saying, the boys were already leaving the hall and Pietro came to talk to you.

"Hey, good morning, how are you?" he asked curiously, taking a seat across from you at the table.

"Not well, if you want to know." You grumbled dejectedly, your fingers lazily stroking the piece of bread on your plate. "What about you?"

"Worried." He replied shrugging his shoulders with a small corner smile. "But I'm optimistic. Wanda is confident, and thinks she can win. And I'm trusting that everything will end well."

The mention of Wanda makes you sigh slightly and lean your chin on your arm on the table, looking at the boy in front of you.

"I miss her, Pietro." You confess upset and ignore the way Gamora and Nebula who are sitting next to the boy look at you with pity, but appreciate how Mantis strokes your back lightly. "She won't talk to me, and I can't blame her or even be mad at her."

"Wanda asked for some time, didn't she?" he asked slightly curious and you grumbled in agreement. "Well, I guess you have the right to ask the same."

You frown in confusion, and Pietro has a little smile as he pours himself some juice.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"Ask her for, I don't know, five minutes of attention?" He suggests. "Five minutes to at least give her good luck. You look miserable, and I hate to see you like this."

You sigh, thinking about the idea. And then you smile.

"Thanks, P." You say as you raise your head.

"No problem." He says. "You can try now, Wanda should be on the lower floors. She wanted to talk to dad before the task."

You nodded in understanding and then said you would meet your friends outside.

It didn't take long for you to find Wanda. The girl was walking up the stairs as you were coming down, and well, she had no choice but to look at you.

You felt your heart race to have her looking directly at you after so long, but you ignored the sensation as you walked down the steps and stopped in front of her. Wanda swallowed dryly, but held her gaze.

"Hey." You greeted half breathlessly, smiling slightly.

"What do you want?" she asked uncomfortably, her gaze serious. You ignored the seriousness of her words.

"Talk to you."

"I already said I need time."

"I know." You said without hesitation. "But I also have the right to talk. Can you give me five minutes?"

Wanda looked away, and then at her feet. She sighed and nodded, and you waited for her to look at you again before speaking.

"I miss you, Wanda." You confessed and watched Wanda swallow dryly, her eyes filling with tears as she looked away. "And I wanted to wish you good luck in the last task."

Wanda sighed faintly, nodding in understanding, her gaze on the stairs. You raised your finger to her chin, gently turning her face so that she was looking at you. Wanda closed her eyes as you fitted your hand to her cheeks, your thumb stroking her skin tenderly as she leaned into the touch.

Her hand moved up to your forearm the next moment, squeezing before moving your hand away from her face as she pushed your arm away gently.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling in your stomach and the urge to kiss and touch her again.

"Please don't do that." She whispered. "Don't touch me as if you love me as much as I love you."

You gasped, widening your eyes at the confession. But before you could add anything else, footsteps approached and Erik was coming up the stairs behind Wanda. The girl took a step back, wiping her eyes quickly.

"Stark." The professor greeted politely. You had a hard time disguising how much Wanda's words stirred in you. "Wanda, you'd better hurry up for breakfast. The task will start soon."

"Yes, dad." Wanda agrees and she doesn't look at you as she leaves. Erik nods politely and you stand on the steps for long minutes, your heart racing in your chest.

Wanda loves you. And you can't be with her.

Ignoring your broken heart, you turn and walk back into the hall, following the crowd of students who are making their way to the site of the last assignment.

//-//

The third task was a maze full of magical trials.

You gasped as you reached the sight of the large grass ones that were raised at the entrance to the quidditch field and the matched grass gates.

The crowd of students spilled out onto the bleachers set up in front of the maze, and you began to look around for your friends, ignoring the urge to run to Wanda and tell her you loved her back, not wanting to upset her before the task.

When the crowd was fully seated in the stands, and some students were already raising their cheering posters in the air, you watched the tournament judges move along with the faculty as Agatha took her place to announce the start of the competition.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Gamora whispered to you as the director made the announcements. "I bet Wanda will be back before you can miss her."

You try to smile, your stomach turning in nervousness.

Watching the field below, you see the champions positioning themselves at the entrance.

Jean Grey had the highest score, so she entered first. The Durmstrang students cheering loudly until she disappeared into the maze.

Soon after, Wanda entered. The Slytherin people conjured a serpent of artifice through the air that disappeared as soon as she walked into the maze.

And then Maria Hill last, the Beaubatox crowd clapping their feet until she entered.

Just like the second task, all that was left for the crowd to do was wait once the champions entered. So as soon as the gate closed, the students started talking animatedly among themselves, in addition to the betting chart that began to circulate.

You also noticed that the reporters of the Daily Prophet were asking the cheering people in the front row about the bets for the winners.

Trying to distract yourself from the sense of worry that had taken over you most likely linked to the fact that Wanda was inside a place dangerous enough to kill her, you tried to engage in some of the conversation with your friends.

//-//

With thirty minutes to go, a movement in the field below caught your attention.

"Y/N, isn't that your father?" Gamora asked poking you in the ribs to call you, but you were already looking down.

Your father was not alone. There were four other witches with him that you had never seen before, but judging by their capes, they were aurors from the ministry, as they were dressed exactly like the witches that day in the cup.

There was a sudden movement among the teachers, and then the aurors were opening the gate to the maze and Headmistress Harkness was talking to the judges, all looking extremely worried. The crowd was buzzing, and it didn't take long for the comments to reach you.

"They're saying they're going to cancel the test!" Told a Ravenclaw girl who had just leaned forward to listen to her classmates, and then he turned and said to you and Gamora, making you both widen your eyes. You looked around next, in time to catch Tony coming down the bleachers from the side until he reached your father.

"What do you think happened?" Gamora asked you.

"I don't know, but it doesn't look good." You replied already moving to leave in Tony's direction. Gamora and Nebula looked at you, but you just signaled for them to wait up there.

When you reached Tony and your father, they seemed to be arguing.

"You didn't think to send at least a letter?" Tony squawked angrily, but your father was distracted, looking around and especially back at the entrance to the maze.

"I can't talk now, Tony, please." The man asked. He gave you a short smile as you approached, and Bucky and Steve joined you all next.

"Dad, what's going on?" You asked, but before your father could say anything, the principal was asking the students to return to the castle and the crowd erupted in booing.

The tournament judges were commenting quietly among themselves, and you frowned when Professor Erik approached and whispered something in your father's ear, who made a worried frown.

"Go back to the castle." Your father ordered looking at you and Tony, but you didn't move and Tony pushed your father's hand away.

They began to argue, but you felt your whole body shiver all at once, and you looked back, thinking that someone had called your name.

Professor Erik looked at you curiously, but before he could do anything, you ran past him and into the maze.

//-//

Gasping for breath from the run, you blinked in confusion as you stopped at a crossroads. Your head was spinning slightly, and you looked around.

The maze was dark, and the walls were high and shadowed the path. You noticed that the noise of the crowd was muffled from the inside.

Taking the left path, you were not fully conscious, following only the magnetic energy that seemed to pull you around the correct path.

Your wand was raised to your hand, an illumination spell that you don't remember conjuring. You frowned slightly when you noticed another light, and then Maria Hill was standing in front of you.

"Who are you?" she asked, but you didn't answer, walking past her in a mechanical manner. The girl looked at you with confusion. "Girl, can you hear me?"

"Wanda." You whispered without stopping your walk. Maria hesitated but then began to follow you through the labyrinth.

"Are you hexed?" She asked curiously but got no answer. When she tried to hold you by the shoulders, you pushed her to the ground. "Hey, no need for that!"

You didn't answer and Maria sighed in irritation as she stood up, running lightly to catch up with you as you turned the corner.

The tugging on your abdomen began to get stronger, and then you reached the center of the maze.

"Wow, you found the center." Maria commented in surprise next to you. "But where's the cup?"

You looked around confused, feeling the pain in your head increase.

And then noises of footsteps and shouting became closer and a moment later your father and Professor Erik entered the center through one of the trails.

"Honey!" Your father exclaimed worriedly, but before he could reach you, you fell to your knees, a shrill cry of pain escaping your throat.

Your vision blurred and you had another vision.

It was the graveyard from your dream, but now much clearer than before. You were attached to something, and there was a tall wizard standing in front of you.

The man turned around and you could see his red eyes staring at you with hatred.

"Erik, what is happening to her?" You heard your father's voice sound muffled by the ringing in your ear. You were trying to breathe normally, lying on the grass with your hands on your head.

"Look out, Howard!" It was Professor Erik's voice, but you didn't have the strength to look up.

"Protego!" Someone shouted the incantation next to you, maybe it was Maria but you can't open your eyes to see.

The pain in your head seemed to subside slightly and you forced your gaze upward, not understanding what was happening.

There were two bright lights in front of you. The image was not very clear because of the pain, but you struggled to understand what you were witnessing.

A wizard you didn't know was exchanging spells with Professor Erik. And Bucky was standing next to him, his robotic movements exactly matching those of the mysterious sorcerer. Your father was dueling with the younger one.

The unknown wizard let out an angry grunt, and said something in a language you didn't recognize, and then a green light shot out of Bucky's wand and hit your father in the chest, knocking him backwards.

"Stupefy!" Shouted a female voice from your side, and the spell hit Bucky squarely.

You whimpered in pain again, and could stare no longer.

A few minutes passed before you gasped back to consciousness, or perhaps it was hours. Your tears wet your shirt, and you coughed helplessly.

You raised your eyes to a scene that you didn't understand at first.

There were three people lying on the ground. A man you had never seen before, Bucky and your father, and Professor Erik was kneeling beside the last.

You blinked in confusion and then Tony came running out of the other opening and he widened his eyes when he noticed father.

"Hey, can you stand?" it was Jean Grey beside you. Maria Hill was holding you in her other arm, and you blinked in confusion at both of them.

"Where am I?" you grumbled, and then looked forward again. Tony ran up to your father, and you widened your eyes.

"Dad?" Tony asked with his face wet with tears. "Dad? Wake up!

"Stark..." Erik started as he touched the boy's shoulder, but your brother didn't look at him as he pushed his hand away.

You forced yourself to get up and with the help of the girls you succeeded. You took two steps and then fell to your knees again, understanding what had happened.

You had just witnessed your father being murdered.

//-//

The maze was dismantled from the inside out.

The rest of the teachers moved to remove the incantations and the maze disappeared around you, while you and Tony were kneeling beside the body of your father.

Soon there were reporters trying to reach the center, but Principal Harkness ordered them to stay away.

The aurors from the ministry were also there and they conjured a containment spell around the man who dueled the professor.

"We need to get the children out of here, Harkness." You heard someone say, but their gaze was on your lap, the hand you entwined with your father's.

"We don't know how many of them then here." Another witch said.

"Darlings, let's go inside, okay?" Professor Erik asked you. You were too tired to contradict, but Tony refused.

He said something about responsibility, and they did not contradict him again. You were led out of the maze, however, and the place where the entrance was located was empty.

The reporters who had been thrown out approached you and the ministry's auror immediately as soon as they saw you two, and you blinked at the flashes of the cameras.

"Can you tell us what happened inside the maze Miss Stark?"

"How are you and your brother going to take care of the fortune now that you are Howard's heirs?"

The lack of sensitivity made your stomach turn, but you were too tired to cry.

The auror who was with you said something to keep the reporters away, and then you were taken back to the castle.

"Hey, kid, are you still with me?" The lady asked as she knelt in front of you, her expression concerned.

You sighed, feeling an urgency to close your eyes. You think she called you again before you blacked out.

//-//

When you woke up, it was warm. And when you realized that you were in the infirmary, it took you a few moments to remember everything that had happened. As you did so, you began to cry. Finally understanding that your father was dead.

Your pillow got wet, but you didn't care, finding it hard to see past the tears.

"Hey." It was Tony, looking extremely tired, standing at your bedside. You couldn't tell if he was already there when you woke up, or if he had entered the infirmary at that moment, but you didn't ask. He lay down on the bed with you next, and hugged you.

You know that he was crying too, even though you didn't look at him.

You eventually fell asleep between sobs, and when you woke up again, you were feeling better physically.

Tony was standing in the doorway of the infirmary, talking to the Auror who brought you in. When she noticed you looking, she nodded slightly to Tony and he looked at you, forcing a smile.

The two wizards walked over to you next, and you sat down on the bed.

"Hey, are you feeling better?" Tony asked and you shrugged. "Carol wants to ask you some questions."

You looked away from Tony to the woman, and she looked slightly embarrassed to have to question you after a situation like this, but she did it anyway.

"My name is Carol Danvers, Miss Stark." She introduced herself first. "I am an auror from the ministry of magic. I brought you to the infirmary, can you remember this?"

You nodded in agreement.

"I need to tell you some things, and then I'll ask you about what happened in the maze, okay?" She asked and waited for you to confirm before she started talking.

Carol explained to you how the dark wizard Korvac used polyjuice potion to disguise himself as Professor Fury all year long, and infiltrate the tournament organization. The real Fury was a family friend of the auror and was able to warn her in some way that she didn't tell you, and then the aurors used flu powder to get to Hogwarts. Your father was still an auror in secret to the ministry, and so he also joined the operation group.

When the Aurors arrived, however, Korvac had already entered the maze and they went after him. Neither your father nor the professor were supposed to enter the maze, but when you did, your brother followed, and consequently Steve and Bucky did the same. Your father and the professor went after, but the maze was enchanted to make everyone get lost, and that's exactly what happened. While you were guided by your connection to Wanda, everyone else was lost all around.

Carol told you that Korvac had found Bucky and used the Imperio curse to control him, so he was fighting on behalf of the dark wizard against both your father and your teacher. With Jean Grey's intervention, Bucky was knocked out and Professor Erik hit Korvac, but it was too late.

Everyone eventually found themselves in the middle and the maze was dismantled. Tony had already given his statement to the ministry, and Korvac was sent to Azkaban.

"Your brother told me that you have some kind of magical bond with one of the champions and that's why you went into the maze right?" Carol asked as you wiped away your tears. You sniffled slightly as you confirmed. "Miss Maximoff won the competition and she has also talked to my colleagues about what she saw in the cup portal."

"W-what?" you questioned with confusion.

Carol sighed slightly and then her posture changed. She looked back for a minute.

"Look, I trusted your father. He knew there was corruption in the ministry, and he warned me about it when he recommended me to work with him." She began as if telling a secret. "Let's keep that between us for now. I don't know who I can trust in that department."

Carol told about how the triwizard cup was bewitched to become a portal key, most likely by Korvac. She repeated Wanda's words to you, saying that the girl had ended up in a graveyard with the remnants of Mephisto's followers in place. Wanda also said that Mephisto himself had returned and that they faced each other. She managed to escape by touching the cup again.

What made you angry was knowing that the minister didn't believe any of her words, and refused to acknowledge Mephisto's return. The whole thing would be treated as a trial of the tournament that got out of hand, and Korvac, who had been captured, would be accused of all the crimes.

Carol didn't seem happy with the minister's decision either.

"I have nothing to say but tell the minister to go fuck himself, Carol." You informed irritated and the blonde smiled at you.

"You inherited your father's attitude." She comments and you think the intention is good, but it makes your heart ache. "I will close your statement then. Thank you very much for your time, Miss Stark."

You nod and Carol hesitates. She sighs lightly and touches your brother on the shoulder and your outstretched hand on the bed.

"I used to be friends with your father." She says. "Don't think you are alone, children. You have more family than you can imagine. And you can contact me if you need anything."

Carol smiles and walks away with a nod. You and Tony exchange a slightly surprised look. Tony sighs and sits down next to you on the bed. You say nothing, but you both know that this should be one more among your father's many secrets.

//-//

Nurse Cho released you from the infirmary that same afternoon.

Aside from the mental exhaustion, you were perfectly healthy.

Your friends, with the exception of the Maximoff twins, approach you in the dormitory. They hug you together, mourning the death of your father. You want to say that you feel a little better about this, but that is not true.

As you are seen in the corridors, students and professors stop you to say "my sympathies", and you answer them in a polite way. You can also hear the gossip after all.

Wanda did not obey the order of the minister of magic, and when the journalists of the Daily Prophet asked her about the tournament, she told her version. Nobody bought her story, and she was branded a liar after the minister denied the return of the dark wizard.

Professor Erik also greeted you in the hallways, and Pietro was with him. The boy hugged you tight, and you held back your tears.

"Stark, my home is always open to you and your brother." Erik said as his hand was on your shoulder. "I just want you to know that."

You nodded in understanding and then walked toward the communal hall intending to organize your belongings, since the school year would end that week.

//-//

On your last day at Hogwarts, you finally talked to Wanda.

Because your nightmares had become more frequent than ever, you had spent the last days at school without sleeping properly, and on the last night you gave up sleeping and decided to go to the kitchens.

You were in the empty halls when you heard the familiar noise of Drax monitoring the castle and stumbled to the first door you found, trying to avoid being seen.

As you waited for the hissing noise to become distant, you looked back and gasped in surprise.

There was a girl sitting on the floor and it took you a few seconds to realize that it was Wanda.

"What are you doing here?" You asked curiously, and your voice startled her. She stood up quickly, looking at you in surprise.

"Shit, you scared the hell out of me!" She complained and you frowned slightly as you realized she was crying, but Wanda quickly wiped her face.

Only at that moment did you notice the large antique mirror behind her. On the metal rim was a Latin phrase that you didn't understand.

Biting the inside of your cheeks, you looked away to the floor.

"Sorry to bother you, I couldn't sleep." You mumbled clumsily and Wanda shifted the weight of her feet before clearing her throat.

"Do you wanna stay?"

You raised your head in surprise, but then nodded in agreement.

Walking up to the girl, you stopped about four steps away from her, not knowing exactly what to do next.

"Are you going to tell me what you were doing here?" You asked again, and Wanda bit her lips before turning toward the mirror.

"I found this place in second grade." She counters. "That's the Mirror of Erised."

"I am supposed to know what that means?" You ask with mild irony causing Wanda to smile slightly.

"We studied that in fourth grade, so yes." She retorts.

"I haven't been busy this year, no time for books, if you know what I mean." You say with a smile and Wanda laughs softly. You stare at the mirror in front of you, but there is nothing special about it. It seems to reflect you and Wanda just like any other. "What does this mirror do anyway?"

Wanda turns her face to you, and you want to ignore the nervous feeling that settles on the edge of your stomach, but to no avail.

"Look closer." She says, and her gaze lingers on you for a moment before she takes a step to the side. You turn your face to the mirror again, and then step forward.

It takes a second for the image to change. It is you in the reflection, but you are not alone. Your father is standing beside you, smiling contently. You frown in confusion, gasping slightly at his sudden appearance.

Ignoring the lump in your throat, you continue to stare. The image trembles slightly, and you try to understand what the mirror is telling you. Nothing looks much different except the image of your father, but then you notice the wedding ring in your reflection.

You look down at your hand for a moment and then back at the reflection. Your image copies the movement with delay and you squeeze your eyes shut to read the letters on the ring.

Your face heats up as you read Wanda's name and you take a step back. The image becomes fainter, but doesn't disappear.

"What do you see?" Wanda asks curiously from beside you, and you startle, turning your head to her quickly.

"M-my father." You answer at the same moment, biting your tongue to make sure you don't say anything else. Wanda's expression tumbles, and she looks down at her feet. You swallow dryly.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I really am." She whispers, and you look away. There is something that is bothering you as much as your father's death, and it is the distance that seems to exist between you and Wanda now.

"Thank you." You mumble the response you have learned to give whenever someone says that to you. "W-what do you see in the mirror?" You ask next, trying to change the subject from you. Wanda looks surprised at the question and even in the low lighting, you notice the slight redness in her cheeks.

"My mother." She answers without looking at you. "And... myself. No magic. Just me and her, and Pietro and papa at a distance. We look happy and normal."

It is the most intimate confession Wanda has ever made to you. You want to caress her face, hug her and thank her for her trust, but you just nod in agreement, swallowing her words and pushing the desire to touch down.

"Have you been here many times?" You ask after a moment and Wanda sighs before confirming. "You never told me about this place before."

"I never told anyone." She retorts without sounding angry, just slightly weary. "I guess I wanted it to be something just mine."

"I understand." You comment as you look into the mirror again, the image of your reflection and Wanda's now visible. "A private space for you to visit your mother."

Wanda murmurs in agreement, and you think she won't say anything else, but she does.

"I need to tell you something."

You turn your head toward Wanda's direction, but when she turns her body toward you, she keeps her gaze on the floor.

"About the day of the task." She says. "About Mephisto."

"Okay." You mumble as you wait. Wanda takes a deep breath.

"I guess you've heard from the whole school that I fought with him." She starts with a sad smile, and you nod in agreement. "Well, there's a reason he couldn't kill me."

You frown with confusion.

"Right...why?"

"It’s better if i show you." She takes a deep breath, raising her hands between you. "Can I?" she asks, and you notice the red magic escaping her fingers.

"You can do that?" You ask impressed and Wanda nods with a shy smile. When you consent, she raises her fingers to your forehead and then you have another vision.

You see the moment when Wanda was teleported into the graveyard, and it's as if you're seeing everything through her eyes.

The moment when a hooded wizard appeared and locked Wanda in a spell against one of the tombstones. You watched the wizard walk to the center of the graveyard and conjure a rune on the ground that you didn't recognize. He recited a few words and then cast an incantation in the sky. The mark of a hydra.

Walking back to the rune, the sorcerer deposited a necklace on the ground. With a dagger he took from his pocket, he recited an incantation in a language you didn't recognize, and cut his own palm. When the blood fell on the necklace, Wanda gasped in pain.

The ground around the rune began to open up and a man crawled out of the earth. You imagined it was a necromancy ritual and they were resurrecting someone. You didn't have to ask to know that it was Mephisto.

When the wizard stood up completely, he laughed darkly. The man who helped him bowed.

"Master, you live!" Celebrated the wizard. Mephisto approached, a gentle flick of his wand wiped all the dirt from his robes, and you could see the metallic Hydra strolling along the entire length of his robes, as if getting used to being awake again.

"All thanks to you, John." Mephisto said his deep voice echoing through the room. "Your loyalty will be rewarded, my friend."

"Thank you, master." Said the man without raising his head. Mephisto touched his hood, pulling it back, and you looked at the kneeling figure. He was a man of about thirty, his blond hair was long and dirty. There was a deep scar across his cheek to the extent of his right eye, which was closed.

Mephisto raised his wand toward the young man's face, and a silver spell escaped from the tip along the scar. The mark didn't disappear, but when he opened his eye, you noticed the metallic glow of the reddish iris.

"Be my eyes again, John Walker." Mephisto commanded and the boy thanked him again. He continued kneeling as Mephisto turned toward Wanda, who was still attached to the tombstone. "I almost forgot about my guest of honor."

"Who are you?" Wanda asked angrily, you could almost feel her fear.

Mephisto smiled devilishly, ignoring the question as he took a deep breath. He raised his wand high and the Hydra's mark seemed to glow even brighter.

In the following moments, shadows began to appear in the sky, and only when the first one of them landed on the ground that you understood that they were wizards appearing.

There were at least eight of them, but because of their position, Wanda couldn't see them all. The masked witches remained static, waiting for their companions. Mephisto murmured softly, and after a moment without any movement in the sky, he sighed.

"It is only at our worst that we see who is really loyal to us." He comments somberly, before opening his arms to the crowd. "Friends! It's so good to see you all again, finally. So many years!"

Mephisto's smile doesn't reach his eyes, and then the wizards are kneeling, and recite together an "It is an honor, master." Mephisto laughs lightly, lowering his arms.

"Look at you folks." He comments with a psychotic look on his face. "You're not even ashamed that you abandoned me." He charges, but no one speaks up. Mephisto sighs impatiently. "No one has anything to say? What a disappointment."

"Master..." Started a wizard on the edge and then Mephisto raised his fist toward him hanging him in the air with his magic. Wanda's eyes widened, but the wizard let go just before the one in the air stopped struggling. As the wizard coughed to try to breathe again, Mephisto pushed his long hair out of the front of his face.

"I don't want your hollow apologies, Zemo." He says. "Nothing will erase the betrayal of all of you, cowards."

No one makes any mention of interrupting the speech, and Mephisto puts his cloak away momentarily.

"But a new era begins, and we need to leave the past behind." Says the mage. "I finally have my treasure where I wanted it, and nothing will stop me from reaching my power again."

Mephisto turns to Wanda now, a mental look on his face. The wizards look at her too.

"Master, is this...?" One of the masked men begins, and Mephisto interrupts with a devilish grin.

"Yes, my friend!" He says. "The Scarlet Witch."

The group loosely shares a buzz of excited excitement, but falls silent the next moment. Wanda wriggles uncomfortably against the spell.

"What is it, my dear?" Mephisto asks as he watches her struggle. "Is it tight? Try a coffin underground. I guarantee the discomfort is greater."

The comment makes Wanda clench her jaw as the group lets out a chuckle.

"I'm not who you say I am." Wanda retorts with irritation and Mephisto lets out a laugh approaching. You wish you could enter the vision to get him away from Wanda.

"Your name is Wanda Maximoff." He says looking her straight in the eye. "You were born in 1989 in a dirty muggle neighborhood of Sokovia. And you are a scarlet witch by birth." He narrates and then his gaze changes to malice. "And you belong to me."

"Fuck you."

Wanda's rude response makes Mephisto smile.

"Perhaps you, my dear friends, were not aware of what really happened that night fifteen years ago." Mephisto says as he turns to the group again. "I can only imagine the lies the ministry of magic must have told the world, making sure to tell I was defeated by some of their pathetic aurors."

The group exchanges surprised looks and Mephisto laughs, walking ahead.

"I think everyone has a right to know what really happened that day, don't you, my dear?" He asks Wanda, and then lets out a wry laugh. "Oh, I forgot that you were just a filthy brat back then. I'd better tell them instead."

Wanda struggles against the grip again and Mephisto raises his wand toward her, causing the spell to tighten more and Wanda to grumble in pain.

"Hold still and listen to the story, little brat." He commands. "Didn't the blood traitor teach you manners?"

You know Mephisto is talking about Wanda's father, but the girl doesn't respond to the teasing.

"Do you remember how well everything was going for us, my friends?" Begins the wizard, and he waits for the group to agree before speaking again. "I should have known that the cursed muggles in your community would bring more trouble than I expected."

Mephisto looks slightly nostalgic, but no one is going to interrupt him. He gives a wry laugh before continuing.

"You know that I was seeking the power of a scarlet sorceress for myself. And well, with all the commotion in the ministry, I decided to capture the child without being accompanied by any of you." He says. "I was always the most powerful, but now that I look back, a companion would have prevented so much delay."

When Wanda makes mention of fighting again, Mephisto strengthens the spell.

"I went to take what was rightfully mine in that muggle pigsty that is Sokovia, and I never expected that a filthy muggle would be able to stop me." He tells you and you notice Wanda's interest in the words, curious to know what he was talking about. "Maybe the traitor lied and she had some witch lineage. We'll never know, since I killed her." He comments humorously. "Contextualizing my friends, I went up to the second floor to get the child of prophecy, and I ended up running into two of them."

Mephisto counters with a wry laugh.

"Crazy isn't it?" He says. "But of course it was easy to figure out who the right baby was, since the sorceress' power emanated in the child's aura. I had no function for the other one so I decided to discard it."

Wanda's eyes widen at the confession. Mephisto was going to kill Pietro. She gasps slightly, feeling her anger rising.

"But the muggle pig begged for mercy." He continues. "You know very well how much I hate muggles, but if she had stood in the corner as I told her to do, I would have done no harm. But of course she had to throw herself in front of the infant, become a pathetic martyr."

The group laughs at the narration and you feel like vomiting. Mephisto stared at his own wand for a few seconds.

"I should have realized the sacrificial bond that was created, but I did not expect such a thing from a muggle." He counters somberly, sounding bitter. "When I skipped over her body and repeated the curse, it came straight back to me."

The group let out a chorus of surprise, but Mephisto just smiled.

"Don't worry, friends. I'm here after all." He says. "But a death curse is powerful enough to injure a body. And so I needed to escape." He counters as he walks around. "I would return for the girl as soon as I could restore myself, but where there is one blood traitor there is always another."

The group listened to the story intently and you swallowed dryly, trying to remember all the details.

"The traitor Stark and that muggle slut he called his wife were waiting for me downstairs." Mephisto counters and you hold your breath. "I knew that in my condition I couldn't stand up to an auror like Stark, but he could be useful to me. It was the perfect opportunity to have someone look after my belongings."

Mephisto sighed lightly.

"I think muggles must have some sort of self-sabotaging lifestyles about throwing themselves in front of spells, folks." He mocked causing the group to exchange confused looks. "I aimed at Stark, commanding him to protect what was mine, but it was the muggle who received the enchantment." He counters and you gasp in surprise. "Stark was furious of course, but I used the moments he spent assisting his wife to apparate."

Mephisto's expression was no longer content.

"My body couldn't handle the power of the apparatation, obviously." He counters. "After the curse, it began to betray me. I was on the brink of death for months, until I finally succumbed. My consciousness shallowed, waiting patiently for my faithful followers to find me. And here we are."

The group lets out a small exclamation and Mephisto forces a smile, straightening his posture.

"But that's in the past, of course." He says. "My sorceress is here for me, and I can regain my full power now."

Wanda swallowed dryly as she watched Mephisto approach. The wizard made a motion with his wand and the grip around her neck shortened slightly.

"I never had any use for the witch's receptacle." He says raising his wand to Wanda, you held your breath. "It's nothing personal, dear. At least you'll meet that pig of a mother of yours in hell."

The green incantation comes out of the small wood next, but never reaches Wanda. A yellow energy bumps into the magic and deflects it almost hitting one of the wizards in the circle. The group moves in fright and Mephisto has a psychotic but surprised look on his face.

"The protective spell... How?" he asks, stepping forward. “The spell killed the muggle, I saw her body! How is it still there?” He angrily asks .

His followers look as surprised as he is, and Mephisto assumes an angry expression. He raises his wand again, and even without saying anything, the emerald incantation escapes and the same thing as before happens. Distracted in his frustration, he doesn't notice that with each attempt, the spell binding Wanda grows weaker, until the fourth time he tries to curse the girl, the golden light explodes in the air, ricocheting light startling all the wizards in the circle, as Wanda falls to her knees, free.

The second of shock from the group is enough for Wanda to cause a wave of energy with her powers that kept the wizards away as she reaches for the cup at her feet, teleporting back to the school.

You stumble out of the memory, your eyes watering.

Wanda looks at you, but you turn away feeling overwhelmed by the amount of information.

"W-what was that?" You gasp taking another step back.

"I'm sorry if that was too much." She hastens to say. "I-I needed to tell you. About your mother."

You wipe away the tears, moving further away.

"I can't do this." You grumble. "Not now. M-my father just died, Wanda. I can't. I'm sorry."

The words are a little disjointed, but Wanda understands. She doesn't stop you when you rush to leave the room.

//-//

Coming home is much more difficult than any other time.

The ride on the Hogwarts express is longer than ever, but you don't mind, wanting to avoid the moment when you and Tony will set foot home without your father.

Jarvis picks the four of you up at the station, and you are grateful that Gamora lets you eat all her candy left over from the trip.

The whole feeling of stepping into the house and looking around and seeing your father's objects all around is oppressive, but you try to get used to it. You think the conversation with Tony about your mother can wait.

//-//

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia //   @ichala​ ||  @madamevirgo

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x you #wandamaximoffxreader #wanda x yn #marvel imagines #avengers imagines #avengers #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

[inessencedevided]

The Untamed, episode 46 - watching notes

Full disclosure: I'm not in a particularly good mood today. Have you seen that "no productivity. Only guild." Meme flying around? That's me today :|

Hopefully this will distract me (though distraction was the problem in the first place 🙈)

I apologise for any typos you'll finde in this post 😅

To recap, the last thing I learned was that apparently, Jiggy married his own sister because Jin Guangshan was a scumbag who raped more women than he could possibly remember

I was told by several people that this episode is their favourite. No pressures or anything :D

The way someone is dragging up Jiggy's secrets has a lot of poetic justice to it. Everyone is outraged and gossiping. Consensus is reached quickly. Kinda makes me feel that that someone (who probably also wrote the letter to jgy) knows exactly how to use the sect world's worst qualities as a weapon

Yao what's-his-name, resident gossip queen, at it again

Don't look at me my memory is as bad as wwx when it comes to names :D

I was about to write who is Lianfang Zum again and then I remembered that it's jiggy's honorary title. See what I mean? ^^

What does it say about me that my heart makes a leap when I simply see wwx leaning close to lwj to whisper to him? 😅 I'll probably die reading the novel, that's what that says

Oh so it was the maid who sent the letter

Come on Wei Wuxian! That was cruel

Yeah Yao what's-his-name, why would you need to know the identity of who ever is behind this? It's not like you've ever been deceived before!

What's... with that bracelet?

I love it how everyone looks positively startled when Lan Wangji says something unprompted :D

Wait ... Zwei Jun is in his hands? Shit, i don't remeber what happened there. Where did Xichen go again? 😬

I'm so confused right now 🙈 I can't watch and read the subtitles and type

Okay, watched the whole conversation again, now I'm following

I reiterate my earlier statement that whoever is pulling the strings here knows exactly what strings to pull to get the clans to act

Great, another mob 🙄

Loooool

NOW you want his help? 😂

Sure, as soon as he can serve YOU with his "evil tricks", that's okay!

You can see how much wwx changed because he does not hold their hypocrisy to their faces. He mostly seemed tired of it

And Jiang Cheng just realised that wwx might indeed not be responsible for Jiang Yanli's death, didn't he? He's almost stunned 🥺

Or is BEAUTIFUL to see Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji move in such unity! 😭

Oh ... those are the graves of his foster parents, right? :(

And Yanli ... oh God I forgot about Yanli 🥺

I'm crying again. Nothing on this show will ever hit as hard to me as the Yunmeng siblings' fate

I couldn't help myself, I legitimately just stroked my laptop screen where Yanli's plate was 🥺

So many conflicting emotions

Thanks to a friendly anon, I know that these three bows together are marriage thing! 😭😭😭

So yeah, they're married now. I dont make the rules :')

Somehow, this feels like them asking wwx's foster family's blessing

And now I'm imagining Shijie smiling back at them gently and I'm crying 🥺

And by God, I love lwj's gentle teasing :')

This whole scene, he's so soft! 😭

And it think that Wei Wuxian probably thought that he'd never get to step into Lotus Pier again. But here, he can finally say his goodbyes to his Shijie properly. He can heal! 🖤

And again, I cannot stress enough how wonderful that is! And how rare and precious in a show like this. So often character's get put through unimaginable trauma, but they either brush it off no problem or the show/movie ends immediately after the main action and you are left to imagine the number it did on the character's psyche. There are so rarely fantasy shows that really dive into the emotional fallout the plot has on their characters and then give them time to heal. Thus show does both and I'm so goddamn overjoyed my it!

Come to think of it, it reminds me of a very good hurt/comfort fic 🤷‍♀️

Jiang Cheng pleae, fir once, try not to be angry immediately when you're hurting :(

He still takes special offence that lwj is there. Makes me wonder if he still feels like wwx chooses lwj over the Jiang sect and is still hurt by it 😔 (note that at the same time, he reminds wwx that he's very much not a member of the Jiang clan anymore. God, the man has not worked through his own feelings ...)

For once, as much as I love it when lwj defends wwx (especially when it's not against any physical harm, but because he doesn't want wwx to be hurt emotionally) I think him interfering with this particular conflict does not help

Okay sorry, but no! lotus pier was not destroyed because wwx saved lwj in that cave. That was just an excuse for the Wen sect. They would have come eventually anyway

Ohhh

So there's my answer

He's still hurt because he feels wwx chooses anyone else over his family, which is to say him

And he probably can't understand because their positions are so different. The (future) sect leader and the son of a (dead) servant and a rogue cultivator who never felt quite like he belonged 😔

It's so goddamn tragic how much between these two was destroyed simply because they have such a different status in society and could never quite understand each other's perspective

And again, wwx just takes it 💔

Until, that is, lwj's honour gets besmirched

Don't fight in front of Shijie 🥺

Jiang Cheng's every action screams that he still loves his brother and that amidst all that pain for his lost family, is also deep betrayal and grieve for the brother he thought he could always count on 🥺💔

Can we appreciate for a second how much this shot tells us? From Jiang Cheng's angry desperation, to Wei Wuxian's quite acceptance of his rage (which must be so confusing to Jiang Cheng and probably hurt him even more. Because fighting is always how these two resolved their issues!) to Lan Wangji who is in full on protective mode (which I find more than heartwarming,but still think probably isn't helpful rn)

He ... what?

I still don't quite understand when exactly wwx's lack of golden core shows. Why does he have a nosebleed here?

What?

Oh!

Wen Ning 😱

I get what he wants to do!

Have we ever seen him this calm and determined before?

Abd they understand 😱😱😱

The look on all of their faces! Shiiiiit

I'm crying again

Oh wangii is crying 🥺

Wen Quing 💔💔💔 I'm crying even harder just looking at her. I've MISSED her 🥺

Lan Zhan your FACE!! 😭

The way he's looking at wwx in his arms, as if he's seeing him fir the first time

And by god, I can only imagine what he must be thinking

He must be reevaluation every single interaction they had since wwx started down the path of demonic cultivation 😭

I'm a bit in awe of Wen Ning here and how much he must have been holding in. That's the steadiest and most confident he's ever been

Oh Jiang cheng 💔

That looks like a man whose entire world has just been shaken to its core

And Lan Wangji is crying so much 🥺

God I hope he doesn't blame himself even more 🥺

Aaaaaaahhhh, so that is why he wouldn't just carry the sword for appearance sake and why he just had a nosebleed!

Jiang Cheng probably needs about a month to process all that :/

And therapy ...

Aaaaaaahhhh! The boat scene! I've seen gifs! 😍😍😍

A penny for Lan Wangji's thoughts ...

Oh I'm so so so so glad that Wen Ning gets to say thank you to the man who raised his ... cousin (?) :')

Oh god we get to see!!!!

Oh little a Yuan 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I wonder now, did Lan Qiren know who the child was that his nephew suddenly brought back to cloud recess?

I'm glad that we all learned from this that keeping secrets from the people we love, especially secrets that concern them personally, will eventually come back to bide us in the ass. Than you for delivering that important lesson, wen Ning!

Which reminds me that I hope they eventually tell wwx that they know 😬

I swear to god, one of these days I will melt from the gentleness in lan Wangji's gaze :')

Shit. He had to be awake? 😳

You can pinpoint the moment Lan Wangji's heart breaks for all the suffering wwx endured and how close he came to loosing him even then 🥺

Waking like that in you lovers arms in the middle of a lotus pond - that's the dream *sighs* (minus the passing out bit)

It's weirdly cute that wwx thinks that it's Jiang Cheng's insults that have lwj so upset 😅

Oh GOOOOD ...

I can't

The moment Yanli's themes started to play and she appeared I started to bawl 😭😭😭

And he's sharing the lotus pods with them ... oh please, lwj, please understand what he's saying. That's his pove language! His sister's food was how he received love and right now he passes it on to you! Please, please understand it! 🥺

Oh lwj, don't 🙈

Awwwwww ....

He's breaking the rules for you!!! Just to make you smile!!! 😭😭

And holy shit look at their expressions 😭

By now you should know that he's willing to break the rules for you :')

And poor third wheel Wen Ning 😂

Now there are glittering butterflies???

Do they have some kind of romantic aesthetic bingo going on in this episode???

Oh okay, messenger butterflies

Please appreciate wwx almost climbing into lan Wangji's lab in excitement :D

Thay scene transition was pretty af!

Hey! Why do they bully wen Ning? 😤

*shakes wwx by the shoulders* DO YOU GET THAT HE LOVES YOU NOW???

Huh, this episode was a roller coaster. you guys did NOT exaggerate! I loved it to pieces. I'm floored once more by all the actor's performances. Wen Ning revealed a lot about his character, Jiang Cheng broke my heart, Lan Wangji made it melt and Shijie is still able to make me bawl in an instant. But ... I'm not left with a bitter feeling. Sure, jiang Cheng and wei Wuxian havebt reconciled, but the truth is the first step to even have that possibility. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are both healing and whatever happens in the last 4 (4!!!😭) episodes, I'm not dreading it that much right now. I feel like we're climbing upwards :)

@sweetlittlevampire @fandom-glazed @elenirlachlagos @allhailthedramallama @luckymoony @kyrrahbird @i-love-him-on-purpose thank you guys for staying with me for this crazy ride 💙🖤💙

Also one last thing: please don't tell me what happens differently in the novel in any given scene. I am still reading it (about half way through rn) and I'd like to still be surprised by stuff like first kisses and love confessions 💙🖤

I should have put something like this at the end before, but I always forgot. That's on me 😅 so don't feel bad, if you've shared something before :)

#the untamed #sophie watches the untamed #wei wuxian #wwx #lan wangji #lwj #jiang wanyin #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #wen ning #a yuan #the untamed liveblog

[tinycamembert]

gonna post this on ao3 later i need sleeb now tho

bellanthia fic, self-indulgent descriptions of bella in a suit, cyanthia is a disaster

sry if there’s typos im TIRED but i needed to finish this

"So black tie means... black tie required, yeah? Not optional or anything?"

Cyanthia stares. She's not sure how much clearer it could get.

"That is correct," she says, taking in her captain's befuddled expression. "I am assuming this Ambrosia Co. gala was not as formal in the past?"

Bella shakes her head no, scrunching up her nose as she glares at the invitation, as if her scathing look could bend the letters on the page to her will. "I don't have anything black tie. I just have, like, a nice jacket."

"Well, we'll just have to get you something more formal, then!" Arnick pipes up, looking pleased at this turn of events. Cyanthia knows full well that Arnick doesn't need any more suits to add to his already plentiful collection (because really, it is a collection at this point), but the next best thing to buying a new suit for himself is helping his captain buy a new one. 

"Ugh," Bella says, and throws the gala invitation back down on the table with a slap. "D'you reckon if I wore a sports bra underneath, would anyone notice?"

"Probably not," Cyanthia says delicately. Bella shrugs, as if this small victory was enough.

"Alright," she says. "Guess we're going shopping, then."

--- Despite admitting that a shopping trip was necessary, Bella drags her feet somewhat the whole way, lingering behind Arnick and Tetrox as they pore over various outfits and ties and shoes and the like. Cyanthia drops back.

"What is on your mind?" Cyanthia asks. Bella sighs, putting her hands deep in the pockets of her hoodie.

"I dunno. I just always feel weird trying on fancy shit. So uncomfortable. I feel like it's not me, I guess?"

"Well, I suppose it is not as comfortable as a big sweatshirt," Cyanthia muses, "But there are other benefits, the way I see it. I always feel more confident when I am wearing something nice, or an outfit that I am proud of."

"I suppose so," Bella mutters, still protesting. "This outfit is nice!" She kicks a leg out, showing off the fabric of her pants. "These are nice leggings. They're made out of a good sturdy fabric, and they're purple."

Cyanthia can't help but laugh. "Yes, for workout clothes, they look very high quality. Maybe you can get some new leggings here too, while we are at it."

"Maybe something like this?" Arnick asks the group, turning back towards Bella and Cyanthia. He's holding up a very standard, but good looking, three-piece black suit.

Bella grimaces. "Is the vest necessary?"

"Yes."

"If you say so," Bella smiles wryly. "You're the expert here, Nicky."

"The vest is necessary if you wanna look super hot," Tetrox says to Bella with a razor-sharp, mischevious grin. "Trust me on this one, sugar."

Cyanthia rolls her eyes. Bella cackles. "Alright, alright! Hold onto your pants. I'm gonna try it."

"Let's find her some shoes!" Tetrox says, beckoning Cyanthia over while Bella and Arnick discuss sizing. 

"Oh—alright," Cyanthia says, looking back towards her two other teammates. Not that she's being selfish, but she'd like very much (okay, probably too much) to see what Bella looks like in the suit. 

Tetrox gives Cyanthia a gentle nudge, reading her look. "Don't worry! We'll get back in time to see her try it on."

"Ugh," Cyanthia says. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You know," Tetrox says as the two of them pore over dress shoes, "Bella told me people bring dates to this kinda thing."

Cyanthia sighs, a sharp sound escaping her lips. "I said I don't—wait, she said that to you? You were talking about dates?"

"A little," Tetrox giggles. "I mean, Nicky's going with me, right, so it just seems natural for you two to pair up. It wouldn't have to be weird at all. You could bring it up just like that. But yes, she did talk to me about dates."

Cyanthia turns over a pair of shoes with a tapered toe and a sleek gold accent around the tip, and decides she'll bring these back for Bella. "Did she say anything else?"

"Nope!" Tetrox says. "She, ah, well, it seemed maybe like a bit of a delicate subject, y'know, that she's going alone this year. I'm sure you could just ask her if you wanted to go as friends..." she trails off, looking at you pointedly.

"I'm sure I could," you sigh, the two of you heading back over to the fitting area. "But that is not what I want."

"Well, yeah, that's just what you say when you ask her," Tetrox snickers. "You go as friends, and then you leave as more than friends—"

"Oh, enough!" you snap. Your face is definitely burning red as you return to where Arnick and Bella are, where Arnick is browsing ties and Bella is sitting, looking somewhat disgruntled, in a very, very, very nice suit.

"You look hot as fuck!" Tetrox shrieks. Arnick shushes her indignantly from his spot over by the accessories. Bella smiles at the compliment, looking sheepish. Cyanthia wants to die. 

"Oh, nice shoes," Arnick says to Cyanthia, looking over at what she brought. "Sir, do you like those?"

"Oh, yeah," Bella says, looking grateful that the subject has changed from how she looks in the suit to literally anything else. "Those are super cool. Thanks, Cy."

Cyanthia is frozen to the spot, unable to respond at the moment, but thankfully Bella just takes them from her and begins to lace them up. She watches the way the dark fabric pulls taut against the muscles in Bella's shoulders, and the way it rides up her thighs just ever so slightly, and—

A nudge from Tetrox snaps Cyanthia out of her reverie. "What?" she snaps. Her heart is beating a million miles per hour.

"She asked you!" Tetrox says. "Not me!"

Cyanthia realizes Bella has asked her a question.

"Um—sorry, what did you say?" She asks, feeling stupid. Did she really not hear her at all?

"The shoes," Bella says. "You like 'em?"

"Oh—uh—yes," Cyanthia manages. 

"Wicked," Bella says, looking relieved. "Guess it's not so bad for one night."

Bella heads over to a full-length mirror to observe the outfit all put together, and Cyanthia gravitates towards her. Behind them, Tetrox is forcing Arnick to try on bowties with horrific gaudy patterns and blocking his attempts to escape. 

"Those two," Bella grins, looking over her shoulder at their antics. Cyanthia can practically hear Tetrox's voice in her head, urging her to ask Bella now.

Bella rocks back and forth on her heels, looking at the suit and the shoes and the tie on her, lips pursed. "What do you think?" She asks, looking Cyanthia's way. 

"Oh, uh." Cyanthia is taken aback. "I—well—you look great. I mean, the suit looks great. On you. That is." 

"Thanks," Bella says, while Cyanthia's brain feels like it's on fire. "I guess if you and Nicky and Tetrox all like it, then it's okay, right?"

"Of course," Cyanthia says, taken aback. "I—to be honest, I am surprised you feel like you need to ask us."

"This just isn't what I'm used to, I suppose," Bella says. "You guys look all dressed up most of the time to me, but when it's me wearing this kinda stuff—," she shrugs. "It's just hard for me to tell if I'm doing it right, y'know?"

"You are definitely doing it right," Cyanthia manages, and Bella visibly relaxes as she says that, giving her a grateful smile. 

Ask her, she pleads with herself. Ask her now.

"So, um—" Cyanthia starts, and Bella focuses her amber gaze on her, all six feet of her in the clean lines of the dark suit, and she panics a little.

"I—well, Tetrox said people usually take dates? To the gala? And if you weren't going with anyone, I was thinking we could go. Together." Well, if all else fails, blame Tetrox, she thinks. Cyanthia tries her best to maintain eye contact, to be sincere. 

Bella smiles. "Yeah, of course! That would be great, Cy."

"Okay, great. Perfect." Cyanthia smiles, maybe a little too big, a little too happy, but she doesn't care. And as she and Bella make their way back over to Arnick and Tetrox, Cyanthia realizes she forgot to say 'as friends', but she's perfectly fine to keep it just the way she said it.

#bellanthia #bella #cyanthia #arnick #tetrox #my fic #god this could have a pt 2 i feel like LOL #who knows #can u guys believe i said i was gonna write a fic and i actually did it the same day! lmfao

[sarahbatistapereira]

hi! sorry this is a weird question but i saw a post- i don't know how long ago that was made but you said you got into harvard right? i was just wondering, what was your gpa and what extra curriculars did you do in high school? going to an ivy league is honestly my dream but i think i'm hopeless. thank you in advance

This is going to be hyper indulgent, but hopefully at the end of this, it’s clear why I wanted to answer.

Dear Anon,

When I was first applying to colleges, I applied to four schools: UMass Amherst, Tufts, Emerson, Boston University. 

Done. Period. End of sentence.

The dream was BU. BU because it was Boston. BU because it had a wonderful film program, and by my mother’s request, I had to apply in state if i was going to vanish to a whole other coast after college. BU because my high school had a full ride scholarship that it gave out to one student each year, back before it was torn down and was, at least ostensibly, an academic facility. BU because sure, there’s financial aid, but loans when you’re basically getting loaned the all of it at some point stops really being financial aid. Tufts was my fancy school, my “reach,” though I was not dramatically worried. I had a strong GPA (3.9 … something, I’m sorry, it’s vanished) but no sparkling ranking (5th, though really, 3rd–my two best friends in my class had identical GPAs). I had strong reading and writing scores (800 and 790), but a year of straight study failed to get my math score into the 600s. I had okay SAT IIs (mid 600s), and decent AP scores (3s except again AP English which was a 5). I did theater, but I was not the head of it. I was on staff for our literary magazine, but not editor (it may have been co?). I volunteered at a medical clinic, as an interpreter, and I interned during the summers, at a business intelligence company, but I was not a master violinist, I did not rebuild houses, and I did not shield refugees. Design robots. Cure cancer. 

It was true, that I could not get into Tufts. But that was okay, if I didn’t. UMass Amherst was my (very solid) safety. Emerson I was curious about, but pretty sure I’d get in. And I felt pretty good about getting into BU too. I stressed a little, nightly, about the scholarship, but hopefully, maybe, it would work out. 

There was a rumor though, in my high school. Someone (probably no one) had gotten a rejection letter from Harvard. In this rejection letter, supposedly (probably not) there was a typo. I don’t know where I heard it from; I don’t think my friend who told me knew either. I can’t even imagine it was a well spread rumor, because I can’t imagine there are a whole lot of people who would think it was funny enough to really pass it on. It was just a Rumor, possibly immaculately conceived, but my friend said we should find out, and I agreed. 

Done. Period. End of sentence. That was all the thoughtspace it occupied. I had applied to four schools, and also, I was confirming a rumor about Harvard. Just to see. 

I didn’t plan on visiting, but my mother wanted to. My mother, against all logic, against all attempts at reason, was all in; she talked of nothing else, could barely remember where I applied, actually applied, most of the time. She could not get there soon enough, and when we went, she was captivated. Photo-taking, sight-seeing, even though it was just Cambridge. 

And I sat in the yard, leaves golden, students scattered across the green. I looked around. I looked at the buildings, the Freshmen dorms, most of which are all neatly positioned around the lawn like a downtown square. And I let myself feel, for a second, that absolute blinding certainty that I loved it. In a way I didn’t any of my real schools. I liked how it felt, how it looked, what they promised. I liked how it was, inch for inch, every image I had ever had of college, when I dreamed about going when I was a kid. When I realized at an single digit age that I was going to have work with every fiber of my body to get a scholarship if I wanted to be able to go. 

And then I let the feeling go, because I knew how this was going to end. 

I’d done my research. I had not applied to get in. I had applied to UMass Amherst, Tufts, Emerson, Boston University. I was not going to get into Harvard.

I know that some people are going to read the above and say that it should have been obvious. And some people will say affirmative action. And some people will say luck. And hell if I’ll ever know, really, why, but I do know what it was like to go. I do know that when I looked around at all my classmates, we were all incredibly different, in every way imaginable, but there was always that spark, if you poked around long enough. There was always that Thing that drove them, in a way you could physically feel just for being near them. And that was true for me too. I knew what I wanted, what I loved, and who I was. And I worked hard to show it. I talked about it, a lot, when I was interviewed. My essay was structured to highlight it. My extracurriculars reflected it. My grades and scores reflected it. There was no way a college could not know exactly what it was they were getting with me, and for whatever reason, Harvard decided that was what they wanted: Me.

Which really, in the end, was all I really wanted in a college to begin with: To have the freedom to be me, and the resources to do it.

I don’t know what you’re like, anon. I don’t know if reading the above is comforting the way I intended it to be, or if now you’re hiding under a blanket somewhere stressing (and if you want to come off anon, I’m happy to take questions and help in any way that I can). I also can’t tell you that you’re going to get in, or not get in, or that you’ll get into the exact one you want. (Though, I will say, the cultures are all very different, even if they’re all fantastic schools, as are many, many, many non-Ivies.). 

But please don’t let anyone tell you it’s hopeless. Trust me when I say that you can do the research, you can do the numbers, as many times as you want, but it’s not a joke that everyone else is in on, to apply and hope you’ll get in. All that will tell you is who has gotten in before, and you weren’t applying then. This is your time to apply. This is your time to be in the research. So be you. Be completely you, and apply where you want to apply, however you want to apply. I got in. There’s no reason you can’t.

(P.S. I did not get into Tufts.)

#Anonymous #harvard #college admissions

[ruizbrooke89]

How Did You Get Your Ex Girlfriend Back Eye-Opening Diy Ideas

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Ex Girlfriend Came Back After 2 Years

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It can feel like the opposite way means to ignore them and use today, no matter what happens.A lot of costs not just one trick and pray that it plants the seed of doubt in their relationships.You are comfortable, you are contacting them too much?Without the right thing to do even if you behave a certain way, you will be a little bit of effort, but it's easier said than done.You're going to be with them, want to learn the Do's and Don'ts.

What To Do When An Ex Keeps Coming Back

#How Did You Get Your Ex Girlfriend Back Eye-Opening Diy Ideas #Winning Your Ex Back Reddit