ted tonks

The motion of his hands creates a different kind of magic – in an instant the walls become a home. The image is much clearer in his grasp. It is a promise and a future which they are not only allowed but one she will make certain exists. There is a flame of ruthlessness which was encouraged in her house, in her maiden name she has not stoked. Ambition colors her but she does not want for much more than a home with him and she will do all she can to protect it.

At this moment she focuses on nothing but the story of what will be. ❝ There’ll always be flowers on it. ❞ A small contribution and he is much better at weaving tales but she tries where she can. Her lips twitch under the attention paid to them but she commits. ❝ We really should make it more open. ❞

Ted, in his lifetime, has taken on a few labels. Though they may be superficial and unnecessary, they are unavoidable. First and foremost, he was a son; his parents’ child. It was his largest defining characteristic in his early years, more so than his name, Edward ( or Ted later on ). In school, he was a badger, a Hufflepuff. He then became muggle, or the more unsavory mudblood. They were all names and he didn’t mind, never holding onto them, never taking ownership of them. Anything was ephemeral, everything is fluid.

The one label, however, that he clings to with grit is that of husband. He finds it to be the most important, the one ( besides ‘son’ ) that does not need to be temporary, that has the implications of a lasting wear, but also bears incredible fragility. It is no label to be tampered with but one to cherish and have faith in. ❝ I don’t doubt it. ❞ Still keeping her encircled by his arms, Ted takes a few steps forward until his wife’s back touches the wall in question. ❝ Then it goes. This wall isn’t doing anything for us. ❞

#hi this is my babe ted and i need some interactions #i got tons of ideas u guys #ily

PLOTTING CALL!!!!!

#hey guys #xoxo

PLOTTING CALL!!!!!

Ted Tonks is capable of the impossible. Certain a war would rob the world of all joy, she laughs now more than ever. Resigned to the fact that home is not a word in her vocabulary anymore, he finds her a stone home to hold him freely. He stripped her of a cursed name and replaced it with something better. Her hands slide to hold his cheeks and though she had never given much thought to the art of divinations, she can see the future. ❝ Obviously not, my husband wants to knock it down. ❞

❝ Now, what exactly are your plans for this room? ❞

She’s quite the woman. Her hands are gentle and rough, eyes full of care and honesty. The embodiment of everything life never gave her. She created herself, making her perhaps the greatest artist in existence. A healer not just in talent but by nature. Day by day when he gets lost in the complex and paradoxical world around him, or when fear creeps into the periphery, she takes over and clears his line of sight, fitting her square in the middle of it.

A turn of his body to the left, keeping her firm in his hold, points at a blank wall illuminated by the sun (the one in the sky). ❝ Well that looks like a good place for all of your herbs. Potions and things, ❞ Another swivel, ❝ and then a walnut table over there. ❞ He looks to her for her approval, daring to glance at her lips.

He has a point. Ted’s handle on the world would have Andromeda believe there is no obstacle insurmountable and for the most part, he has been correct. There might be something to his unshakeable optimism, at least it is something which she wishes to guard fiercely. She grips the pool of fabric around his midsection, tugs herself close and allows herself to give into the heady feeling of endless possibility.

❝ Perhaps I’m not be such a big fan of this wall. ❞

#toujourslamcur #look at them.

It’s an odd situation, one that he never dreamt of, and one that he would have never begged for. He wouldn’t have even asked once for it if it weren’t something she wanted as well. But now they have a home. Their secret has become a permanent facet of their future

❝ Perhaps it’s not a big fan of you. ❞

dalymccord

Every word and every sentence doesn’t seem to make a difference Nothing can explain just what you mean to me

#| ɪ﹕ she tells my story. |

heartfulloffandoms-deactivated2

( EVERY STAR THAT’S EVER FALLEN KNOWS THE WAY TO WHERE WE’RE GOING )

ted tonks | andromeda tonks

#FUCK U

█✬▌@xedwardtonks┊continued.

With the comfort of belonging will soon come anxiety. The last place which she had called home seems more like a prison in retrospect. Andromeda does not worry this could ever feel the same as with Ted lies her freedom. Instead she will worry over the fragility. Already had she cast a number of concealment and protective charms, and already she finds herself starting to worry whether or not it will be enough. – Ted’s voice breaks her train of thought. ❝ A builder now, are you? ❞

Rounding the corner, he locks into her view. As solid as their newly purchased walls may be he is something much more sturdy to take hold of.

❝ I might just so happen to like this wall. ❞

Maybe he has an unqualified eye for the subject. He shouldn’t be looking at it as critically as he does with suggestions for home improvement lacking credible skill or experience. He would rather hear about what she would do with it; the future that she sees in her two, much wiser eyes, and let her tell him what to do. ❝ It’s useless when it stands between you and me. ❞

Two hands reach out to her, to settle in the dipping curves of her sides and feel for himself the warmth of his own sun.

”Come here.”

█✬▌ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ┊outlander.

The small swell in her stomach stops the unrelenting pace of which they have been used to running. It would not be practical, apparating simply not recommended so frequently when carrying. There are nights when she seriously wonders whether or not such power before even birth is a good sign or not. More nights she worries about the sustainability of their existence while settling in one place.

The home is modest, it leaves something to be desired. And yet it seems to be perfect for someone who frequently lets his imagination run wild. – Someone like her husband. It is not practical, exactly. There is reason to worry. But for just a moment she allows herself to press her palm against brick and mortar which have become theirs. For a moment she allows her own imagination to run wild.

❝ Can’t. There’s a wall in the way. ❞

His eyes have scanned over and over planes and creases, the corners of their palace. The Queen and King are meant to live comfortably, the future he sees in a different wall color to match the atmosphere they create in the home. With the sun streaming through the windows, it seems the walls can remain bare so that they might be painted by warm rays.

He is no designer, no architect. But he notices the intricacies in things and draws their parallels to the world around him. He takes note of how material mimics natural. Or he just likes shapes.

❝ I’ll knock it down. ❞

#| ɪ﹕ she tells my story. |

broken-kingshanewest

Janet Montgomery attends the 3rd annual Imagine Ball Benefit Concert at Bootsy Bellows on May 5, 2016 in West Hollywood, California.

sikanapanele-deactivated2018121

#LOOK AT THEM #| ɪ﹕ she tells my story. |

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