Xuebing Du

blake kathryn
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cherry valley forever
Three Goblin Art
will byers stan first human second
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

JVL
Monterey Bay Aquarium
hello vonnie
i don't do bad sauce passes
tumblr dot com
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Cosimo Galluzzi

@theartofmadeline
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Kiana Khansmith
Today's Document
One Nice Bug Per Day
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@shiftingsandcastles
Sule Skerrie | Open
Waves lapped the shore gently, digging Tamsin’s toes into the sand and slowly burying them as she sat staring at the waves. It wasn’t often that the others found her in a pensive or contemplative mood, but she’d been sitting on the beach, staring silently for nearly an hour now. The arrival of those who’d been confirmed dead only proved further that her hope was not stupid or silly or unfounded. If Amelia Bones, a name she only knew through the papers and now because of her brother, was alive then why couldn’t others be as well?
Her journal lay beside her in the sand, still closed. She had come out to the beach intending to write but oddly enough the words simply wouldn’t come. One more oddity to add to a day that promised nothing but strangeness. Tamsin Whitlock could count on one hand the number of times she’d been at a loss for words. Words were easy. Even if she didn’t really know what to say, she could usually figure it out by the time she was nearly done speaking. Writing had always been the same. Her journal didn’t read like a planned letter or a story, though there were a few of both between it’s pages, but more like a stream of consciousness. She wrote and spoke to get the words out and make sense of them.
Water covered her feet again, dragging more sand and burying them deeper so that only her skinny ankles showed above the sand. Wind blew her pale hair in front of her face and she brushed it back with one arm. The tangles would be torture to comb out by the time she got back to her cottage, but she didn’t care. Fingers combed through the sand, making little shapes and swirls only to smooth them out again and start over. Sighing softly, she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the waves, the music of the ocean. No wonder sailors sang as they worked.
Without really intending to, Tamsin began to sing as well. An old shanty that she wasn’t even entirely sure where she’d heard it but seemed fitting for a place such as Port Montrose. She had always been comfortable with her own voice and while she wouldn’t be offered any record contracts she could carry the tune reasonably well, aided by the wind and the waves. Her voice carried across beach despite the fact that for once, she wasn’t being loud or boisterous.
"I am a man upon the land, I am a silkie on the sea. And when I'm far and far frae land, my home it is in sule skerrie."
Not All Who Wander Are Lost || Tamsin and Regulus
It wasn’t a good idea to make the ex-soldiers of Port Montrose nervous, but sometimes Regulus couldn’t help himself, particularly when it came to ‘running away.’ He never actually crosse the shields, which perhaps softened the blow, or dared leave the little portion that the Order had made their own, but he did wander off rather more frequently than the rest of the former Death Eaters.
Even when he couldn’t escape, Regulus made a habit of getting as far away from and ahead of his monitor as he could, to at least maintain some semblance of being alone for sanity’s sake. At the moment, he wasn’t yet certain if his monitor knew where he was and was watching from a distance or not, but all Regulus could hear was the rustling of trees and the underbrush beneath his feet, so what difference did it make?
He felt nearly free.
After some walking, mostly following a deer path while keeping careful mental track of his bearings, Regulus came to a wider path not quite wide enough for any type of vehicle, but wide enough for two people to walk next to each other. On the other side was a girl Regulus knew only by name–Tamsin–and by face, currently picking flowers rather happily as though she weren’t in the middle of a forest contained in a prison for those left behind by a war.
Regulus leaned against a tree, watching her as an unseen flock of sparrows chirped in the canopy. Hardly anyone looked happy anymore, and he couldn’t imagine any of the others so blithely wandering through the woods, flowers in hand. If he didn’t know he would have felt the whisper of magic against skin, or if he hadn’t seen her before, Regulus might have wondered if he’d left the encampment behind.
After a moment, she turned and their gazes met. Regulus didn’t quite manage a smile.
Tamsin was never going to be someone they asked to monitor the “undesirables” in their midst; she was barely trusted herself, given that she’d had nothing to do with the Order and stumbled upon Port Montrose without actually being invited. Add to that the fact that she was rather flighty and had a habit of getting turned around and in some ways she was surprised that she didn’t have a monitor herself. She may not have an official monitor, but there were those who seemed to have taken it upon themselves to make sure she was where she was supposed to be when she was supposed to be there -- Alice, Ted, even James and Remus on occasion.
The lack of responsibility didn’t bother Tamsin, she wasn’t anxious to act as jailer/guard to any of the former Death Eaters in their midst. As of yet not a single one of them had ever done anything harmful to her. Oh, she knew they’d messed up in the past and made horrible decisions, but who hadn’t? Perhaps not on so grand a scale, but there was no one perfect in the Port. This was a second chance for all of them and they all deserved to have an equal opportunity for change.
Her opinion was surely another reason people like Moody would never really trust her.
Since she didn’t have a lot of the big responsibilities in their little community, she had a tendency to take other jobs on for herself. Like picking flowers. It wasn’t exactly considered the most useful of jobs to some, but Aisling always appreciated fresh flowers and could make use of them plus they brightened the cottages and made things feel less...desolate. The woods and fields were full of wildflowers if one was patient enough to wander through and look for them. So far she’d gathered a decent bouquet of heather, bluebells, Scottish primrose and other flowers that she wasn’t familiar enough with to identify. There had been an unfortunate run in with a thistle that left the back of her hand rather sore, but otherwise it had been a very productive morning by Tamsin’s standards.
It took her a while to notice that someone had joined her. She’d been humming tunelessly to herself as she gathered the flowers, her long blonde hair falling around her and obscuring her view. It didn’t say much for her observation skills that she hadn’t registered another human walking up to her, but she’d never been overly concerned with that kind of thing. She smiled and straightened up when she recognized Sirius’ brother -- she hadn’t had much of an opportunity to get to know him, but had heard enough to know that there were strong opinions about the younger Black.
“Hello!” she called, her voice cheery. “I didn’t realize you were there, sorry. I wasn’t ignoring you or anything. Did you need something? Oh, are you lost? I get lost a lot around here, so I might not be a lot of help in pointing you in the right direction but I’m pretty sure I know the way back to the cottages. Honestly, if you start walking you’ll either hit the ocean, the big fields, the cottages, the town, or some other landmark and from those places I can typically find my way back.”
She straightened up and brushed off her hands before picking up her bouquet and moving closer to Regulus. “I don’t think you’re technically supposed to be wandering by yourself, but I kind of think that’s a stupid rule, so I don’t intend to sound an alarm or anything,” she said shrugging her shoulders. As an afterthought she plucked a dark yellow flower from her bouquet and held it up for his inspection. “Oh, hey! How are you at herbology? I can’t remember the name of this flower, do you know it?”
constellations from pebbles // ted & open
“If only! But you’re right, probably not the smartest idea, at least for now. We can only hope things might change soon and we’ll be reunited with Honeyduke’s once again,” he smiled, watching as she took the bowl from him and started stirring more carefully than he’d seen her do most anything. It was funny, but he was suddenly very glad that Tamsin had come into the sixth cottage and interrupted his constellations. This was a much better, happier way to spend the afternoon, anyway.
At her questions about stirring, as if the banana bread batter was some sort of mysterious potion instead of recipe, Ted laughed louder than he had in a long time. The sound of his laughter was warm and loud in the otherwise empty kitchen and it shook his shoulders.
“No, no, it doesn’t matter. You can stir it any way your heart desires. And it’s definitely a look and feel sort of thing. It’s just done when everything is combined thoroughly enough. If it blows up in your face, well, that’s another problem entirely and maybe we’ll have to investigate if the baking soda I added was actually wartcap powder or something worse,” he said the laugh still prominent in his voice.
Ted leaned over and looked into the bowl. The mixture was already starting to smell like home, and it hadn’t even been baked yet. It made him long for his parents’ kitchen and afternoons spent with them. Even just before coming to Port Montrose, before things had gotten even worse, he had had days like that. At least this was a nice substitute, although nothing would compare. He gave Tamsin a little nudge and said, “Looks brilliant to me, can’t wait to taste it! Why don’t you go ahead and pour it into the pan and stick it in the oven. It’ll probably need to cook for nearly an hour before it’s ready. Plenty of time for a walk.”
“Maybe we should make it a requirement to come in for the new people. ‘Must be able to find us and bring a sugar quill for everyone’ kind of thing. Can’t get past the wards without candy,” she joked.
His laughter made her grin, even though he was laughing at her. It was a nice sound, big and deep but in a way that made the air in the room feel lighter. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as he explained that it didn’t matter so much how she stirred. “So, what you’re saying is all the people who compared potions to cooking when I was in school were lying to me,” she laughed, “Good to know. If I ever run into Georgina Hudson again, I’m going to give her a piece of my mind.” She put on a snooty, high pitched voice and repeated the words she’d heard often in the potions classroom, “’It’s just like cooking Tamsin! Any idiot can cook.’ Should make her bread full of wartcap powder and send it to her. This is much easier than potions. Especially since you did all the hard work.”
She tilted the mixing bowl carefully over the pan she’d chosen and scraped the thick batter into it, doing her best not to make a huge mess. A few globs of batter ended up on the counter but overall she thought she did fairly well. Using the mixing spoon she pulled as much out of the bowl as she could before turning to look at Ted, grinning again. “We did it! I mean, it’s not done yet but still!”
The dirty bowl went into the sink and she filled it with water and let it soak. Her cleaning spells left something to be desired but she had every intention of coming back to clean things up. She put the pan in the oven and closed the door, brushing her hands off. “Just like that, right? There was nothing else to do before it went in?”
Help Me Help You || Tamsin & Alice
Tamsin turned the small pin emblazoned with the Order emblem over in her hand as she walked toward Alice’s cottage. She’d fallen into a sort of habit since coming to Port Montrose -- when she needed to talk to someone, essentially think through a situation or problem out loud, she found herself gravitating toward Alice. There was an intelligent quietness about the other woman that made it easy to simply share things with her and she didn’t seem to mind Tamsin’s chattering. She also seemed to understand which questions were rhetorical and which Tamsin actually wanted answers to without her having to explain.
Even in a community like this where nearly everyone shared nearly everything, it was still considered polite to knock before entering the more private spaces like the cottages, but Tamsin was lost in thought trying to sort out who the pin belonged to and why she’d found it in the exact spot she knew she’d seen that silver eyed woman. It didn’t matter that she’d found no trace of her when she’d gone back with Peter to look, Tamsin knew she’d been there. She wandered up to the third cottage, opening the door and then pausing to knock as an afterthought while already halfway inside.
“Alice?” she called, “You home? Because I wanted to show you something and talk about it.”
I Need Entertainment
ANONYMOUS TIME!!!! (or ask in character!)
HYE have you ever?
FMK fuck marry kill
KHC kiss hug cuddle
NML a night, a month or for life?
AMA ask me anything
HON hot or not?
WWY well would you?
WYR would you rather?
TOD truth or dare?
SMW ship me with?
TOT this or that?
WIS who I ship? (with myself, or with others – specify)
or anything else hilariously entertaining you can think of!
☮ - friendship headcanon
It took weeks… weeks that felt like months to Aisling even though she knew from her nighttime wanderings that the moon had not yet gone through its phases since her arrival in the portside town where time seemed to slow near to freezing… for her to put the tub back together after she impulsively began to tear it apart. Rebuilding it into something beautiful took time, time bought by Alice’s quiet warning glances and Frank’s offerings of tea to roommates who had not quite adjusted to their newly arrived resident mess maker inventor, there were other many other projects that held precedence over the dream of a luxury bath but every new faucet and cushioning spell brightened the hopeful glimmer growing in Aisling’s eyes.
Baskets of flowers pressed together with finely ground sea salt and powder built up along a single precious bottle of shimmering bubble potion that often caused it’s own distraction as Aisling starred and daydreamed of the relief to come, so it is easy to understand why one would believe her first action after completing her pet project would be to jump into the bath not up to her feet to scrambling out the door and into cottage one. Her abrupt nightime arrival tore a shout from one of the rooms but she ignored it as she burst into Tamsin’s greeted by the not unusual sight of the blonde girl starting and tumbling to the floor from her hammock bed. “It’s ready! Come on! Merlin how can you sleep at a time like this?” She half dragged the sleepy girl to the source of her excitement, growing every bubblier as Tamsin’s expression shifted from irritated to bemused and finally began to grow into something akin to Aisling’s own delight, and by the time Remus rose to investigate the source of the disturbance both girls were draped half-dressed and covered in bubbles and petals both lost in the joys of warm water and warmer laughter.
constellations from pebbles // ted & open
Ted watched her fondly as she went back to her search, even though they both knew it would be fruitless. He liked that about Tamsin. Even if there seemed to be no hope for something, she was one of the few around here who refused to give up. That was one of the many reasons he liked being around her so much. It made it a bit easier for him to feel hopeful about things, especially in a time when he was finding it increasingly more difficult to find hope in Port Montrose.
[The hope that he had for message that had come through the static was just as thin as the hope they had for finding chocolate chips in the kitchen. But he tried not to think about that just now.]
He was silent at the mention of her family. It was hard to think about before, especially when it had been just as bad for others then as it was now. Tamsin kept plowing on, though, and so he tried to follow her lead.
“’S alright. Didn’t really expect any chocolate to be floating around. It’s a bit of a commodity here it seems,” he said as he finished pouring the last of the ingredients into the bowl of mashed bananas. It was a few seconds of silence before he looked back at Tamsin again, unable to keep himself from smiling at her suggestion.
“Yeah, we should do that. That’d be absolutely lovely. Here,” he said, holding out the bowl for her to take, “You can finish mixing everything up and then pour it into whichever pan you fancy. It won’t take too long to cook, but we can at least have a few moments of peace down at the shore before it’s done. Maybe we can find some more pebbles and I can show you what I was making before.”
Tamsin sat on the edge of the counter and watched Ted continue putting the dough together. It was a bit like potion making, minus the odd ingredients and funny smells that inevitably went along with that type of magic. Still, if you traded the mixing bowl for a cauldron, it could almost be the same. Cooking -- muggle cooking -- was basically magic and all the other innovations that muggles had come up with to take the place of magic were a sort of magic too. She didn’t know a single witch or wizard, herself included, who could explain electricity. It was a broader definition of magic, perhaps, but if people could just step back and see that the things they were fighting about didn’t have to be such a big deal then maybe the world could get back to normal.
She would be sad, of course, to leave this place and her newfound family, but there were people and things missing from Port Montrose. Tamsin wished she had the freedom to go and get them.
“Too bad we can’t just pop over to Honeyduke’s, right? Get a big block of chocolate and oh! some sugar quills. I love sugar quills. I wonder if they do owl delivery? But, well, I guess that’s probably not smart, huh? Ordering stuff here? But it might be worth it for sugar quills, honestly,” she mused, leaning over Ted’s arm to watch it all come together.
Taking the bowl when he offered it to her, she slid off the counter and started to stir. “Like this? Does it matter if you stir clockwise or counterclockwise?” she asked, still thinking of potions. “I know -- or I hope -- that it won’t blow up in my face like a potion might, but does it go differently if you stir differently? I wasn’t watching too closely while you were putting it all together, so I didn’t notice if you had to do anything special.”
While she spoke and stirred, she looked over the options they had for pans, picking a large round one that was technically intended for bundt cake, but it was the prettiest and most interesting of the options. “How do I know when it’s done?” she asked, “Is there a number of times to stir or is it more of a look and feel thing?”
constellations from pebbles // ted & open
He liked listening to Tamsin talk and move around the kitchen, climbing on the counters, pulling out anything and everything from the cupboards. It was nice not to be expected to interject much, as lately he had felt less and less like talking. There wasn’t as much for him to say now, but Tamsin didn’t mind filling in the spaces; he liked that about her. She was so full of energy, in a way that he had been full of energy before everything had fallen to shit.
It was strange to think about what things might’ve been like if they had been at Hogwarts at the same time, if he had met her when he was just as young and at least seemingly carefree as she was now, despite everything that had happened. It would’ve been nice, like she said. They would’ve been friends. He could’ve helped her fix the scarf for her father, shown her how to knit just right, or even charm the needles to do the job perfectly. He could’ve taken her down into the kitchens with him and watched her have fun among all of the house elves, stuffing fresh desserts into their mouths all the while.
It would’ve been nice.
Ted chose to ignore the last part of her story, the part about her last years at Hogwarts. He didn’t like to think of what had happened to Hogwarts after the Attack on Britain. Hell, if he had been in school with Tamsin, he wouldn’t have been able to even show his face near Hogwarts the last two years, just because of who his parents were. Thinking about Hogwarts like that, cold and unsafe, a place to keep your head down as she put it, it hurt nearly as bad as everything else. He tried to push the thought from his mind, instead focusing on collecting the browning bananas, sugar, eggs, and flour from the mess of things that Tamsin had pulled out from the cupboards.
“Looks like we have more than enough to make banana bread,” he said with a small chuckle, grabbing one of the bowls she had taken from the cupboard and peeling the bananas. “My mum taught me to cook, actually, back when I was a wee lad who didn’t even about magic. We used to make banana bread all the time in the fall; we’d take walks down to the shore while waiting for it to bake. It reminds me a lot of home. When I make it for Andromeda, she always insists we add chocolate chips, makes it even more delicious. Dunno if we have any here…”
“I didn’t see any chocolate chips, but I can keep looking,” Tamsin offered. Based on what Ted had told her, it seemed like she would get along well with Andromeda when she showed up. She refused to even think the word if when it came to those that were missing, it was always when. When Andromeda showed up there would be another girl in cottage one -- it’d be crowded but they’d make it work. There were those who’d made it clear they thought her childish for holding on to hope when there was so little evidence that anything might come of it, but she refused to let go. They’d all been through a war and she couldn’t fault the soldiers for their cynicism.
“My mum didn’t cook,” she told him, returning to the cupboards to look again for chocolate chips. “Or, if she did it was before she got sick and I don’t remember. Dad didn’t cook either. Or, at least not well. We had a lot of takeaway and box dinners. My first night at Hogwarts I literally ate myself sick. There was just so much food! I didn’t want to stop eating until I’d tried everything.”
She clambered onto the counter again, searching through the cupboards for chocolate chips without much success. She’d gone through everything again before climbing down and moving to stand by Ted to see how far he’d gotten.
“No luck, sorry. I might have a chocolate bar or something in our cottage, but I also may have eaten it. I don’t remember. But, if you want, while the bread cooks you and I can go walk down to the shore? I know it’s not the same but it might be nice anyway. What do you think?”
constellations from pebbles // ted & open
The truth, at least part of it, was that he hadn’t been in the mood to cook since he’d come to Port Montrose. He’d always loved cooking and sharing his food with the people he loved. He’d learned from his parents early on that food could be a way to show how much you cared about someone. It only helped that Andromeda was a notoriously bad cook, and she had all but relied on Ted to actually make sure she got a proper meal once they were out of Hogwarts. After six years of cooking with Andromeda sitting on the counter next to him, sipping on a glass of wine and being utterly unhelpful with any of the actual work, cooking a nice meal had become one of the many things he inadvertently associated with her, without even realizing it until she was gone.
So no, he hadn’t felt much like cooking lately. But Tamsin was so excited, it made him almost excited. At the very least he could whip up a snack without utterly falling to pieces.
He scooped up the pebbles and put them in a careful little pile on the floor before grabbing his wand and following Tamsin into the kitchen. “I help out around the kitchen sometimes, but honestly with Molly around now, anything I could make has been put completely to shame,” he said with a bit of a smile as he started looking around the kitchen for ingredients. It felt like a good day to cook the Muggle way to him.
Ted had to laugh ever so slightly as she went on about the food back at Hogwarts. It made him think about the good times he’d had, sneaking into the kitchens especially after smoking, being showered in sweets by all of the house elves, leaving with more food than he could possibly carry.
“You’ve no idea, Tamsin. I was in the kitchens constantly. Only helped that the Hufflepuff dormitories are right nearby. Wish we’d been in school at the same time, I would’ve taken you down with me every time; they had a special place in their tiny little hearts for me because I knitted them little tea towels during my sixth year. It was glorious,” he said, spotting a few browning bananas in one of the cupboards. Ted turned back to Tamsin. “How would you feel about some banana bread?”
“Banana bread sounds great!” Tamsin agreed, skipping around the kitchen. She hadn’t been lying about the fact that she had no idea how to cook but she was more than willing to assist. She could stir or mix or measure -- whatever it took to make sure that the food turned out.
“I tried to learn how to knit,” she said, pulling out random items she thought they might need from the cupboards. A pot, a frying pan, measuring cups, spoons, a spatula, plates...whatever she could find that looked like it ought to be involved in the cooking process went onto the counter. “I was going to knit my dad a scarf for his birthday but everything I tried ended up triangular. I guess I pulled the stitches too tightly or something? Anyway, I got frustrated and just bought him a stupid scarf. The knitting needles might still be impaled in the wall of the Gryffindor common room. I got a bit frustrated and threw them.”
There was a colander on the top shelf of the cupboard out of reach, but it looked like it was probably an important baking tool so she climbed up on the counter to get it down, still chattering as she did. “It would have been nice to be in school when you were, we probably would have been friends then. I mean, we’re friends now, obviously, but I would have liked to go get sweets from the house elves. My last year or two at Hogwarts no one was allowed into the kitchens. Or anyplace, really. Just lessons and the library and the common room. Unless you were a pureblood with a good name, then you could do more, but for the rest of us it was best to just sort of keep your head down and not draw attention. Especially once Dumbledore was gone.”
Clambering down from the counter she finally stopped talking long enough to look over at Ted. “I have no idea what we need for baking, so I got out everything. I’ll put back whatever we don’t use. Who taught you to cook? Was it the elves or did they actually teach that kind of thing when you were at Hogwarts?”
I hope that the epitaph of the human race when the world ends will be: Here perished a species which lived to tell stories. We tell stories to strangers to ingratiate ourselves, stories to lovers to better adhere us skin to skin, stories in our heads to banish the demons. When we tell truth, often we are callous; when we tell lies, often we are kind. Through it all, we tell stories, and we own an uncanny knack for the task.
Lyndsay Faye, Jane Steele (via quoted-books)
The human world is made of stories, not people. The people the stories use to tell themselves are not to be blamed.
David Mitchell, Ghostwritten (via quoted-books)
constellations from pebbles // ted & open
Ted gave a rather over the top half bow upon receiving Tamsin’s praise, and then fell into a fit of laughter that was only stopped when she offered the try herself, after which he straightened up and put on his best serious face, ready to watch the attempt with the utmost attention. Ted watched her carefully pick out three of the pebbles off of the ground, moving to stand in front of the armchair he had taken up residence in.
“Go on then,” he said, sitting up a little straighter, and adjusting his glasses on his nose to get a better view of the show.
He liked watching her; she had a sort of unabashed innocence left to her that most people didn’t after the Attack on Britain. He wouldn’t call it hope, what she gave him, but it was something very close to that. At the very least, Tamsin gave him the knowledge that it was possible to go on and to continue to love the world. It was what he wished he could do, and he did try. And being around people like Tamsin maybe made it a little bit easier to make it real, even if things were still hard.
People like Tamsin made it a bit more normal.
And so all of Ted’s attention was focused on her poor attempt at juggling, shielding his head only a brief second, before giving her her own vigorous round of applause even as the pebbles fell to the floor all at once. He had to laugh as she scrambled across the floor to collect the fallen stars, letting them land back safely in his lap after being retrieved.
“I think you’re right, Tamsin. Maybe we’d best stick with magic in that case,” he said with a laugh, collecting the pebbles into his hands and shifting in the seat to look back around the cottage. “Haven’t seen anyone else around, but I’ve been a wee bit distracted with the stars… pebbles. I could make you something if you want, though? I’m no Molly, but I’ve always fancied myself a bit of a cook.”
“It shouldn’t be that hard, though, right? I mean, toss it with one hand catch it with the other and toss it back, but there’s too many! Maybe if they were bigger it would be easier. Let’s go with that, yeah? Of course, if we made the pebbles bigger they’d be rocks and I’d probably break something, so I guess we should leave that as a hypothetical?” she offered, raising one pale eyebrow.
Her head cocked to the side when Ted admitted he was distracted by the “stars.” Astronomy had never really been her best subject in spite of the fact that she was often accused of having her head in the clouds. She could lay on the beach and watch the stars for hours, but she could only identify a few constellations: Orion, the little dipper, Leo and maybe one or two others. She certainly couldn’t identify the constellation -- if that’s even what it had been -- that Ted had made with the pebbles.
“You cook?” Tamsin asked, perking up, “Fantastic because I don’t. At all. Which, I’m sure you’ve figured out by now. How did I not know that you cook?This is the best news. Do you think we can whip something up? While we’re at it, you can go back to the whole star-pebble thing.”
In her typical fashion, she didn’t wait for Ted’s response and started toward the kitchen. There were some people who didn’t appreciate her impulsiveness and chatter, but Ted didn’t seem to mind. It was one of the reasons she appreciated his company.
“Honestly, I think I miss Hogwarts just for the kitchens. Even when things got bad there, the food was always awesome. What I wouldn’t give for a good roast or, oh! Some of the desserts. Wouldn’t it be nice to get a dark chocolate cake or fudge or something? I think it’d go a long way toward boosting everyone’s spirits. How can you be in a bad mood when there’s cake, you know? I wonder if there’s a bakery in the village, I haven’t noticed one but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.”
strength
STRENGTH: how impulsive are you?
Is this a trick question? Did someone say something to you? Because I can control myself. Who have you been talking to? Was it Moody? I bet it was Moody. He’s just cranky, pay him no mind, okay?
moon
MOON: do you have any recurrent dreams?
Not really, no. I have dreams, but they don’t typically repeat. Or, if they do I haven’t noticed. When I was a kid I would have dreams about falling -- falling from slides, brooms, etc. But that was a long time ago.