julia jones deserves an oscar solely for her delivery of the line “she’s dying anyway” in the twilight saga breaking dawn part 1 because it’s powerful enough to cure my depression and purify my drinking water
Chloe: if i never barged in on you while you were taking a shower things would be so different. I mean, we never would’ve won nationals, or the worlds,the barden bellas never would’ve found their sound so if you never joined we could’ve been the last batch, i would’ve never fallen in love with you, we could’ve never had the house for the bellas or that maybe i would’ve graduated earlier cause i had no reason to stay oh and maybe the whole world never would’ve seen fat amy in a whole different level
Beca: wait back up a bit, you’re in love with me?
Chloe: i mean i have been for more than 5 years but who’s counting amirite
Bella via Instagram: There is no hate against anyone… My best friend is Israeli. My best friends I call sisters and brothers are Jewish. There are no sides… Just one man..it has always been a factor of trying to bring peace… Where is the hope..? Love you my sister @lanzybear We will stand strong @linahadid @mohamedhadid @lanzybear
Prompt: Ilovee your imagines so much. Please do one where reader is a new cast member and tend to feel insecure and unwanted but then sebastian goes and comforts her all the time. Thank youu xx
Authors Note: Due to a recent issue coming to light, I’ve dedicated this one to our glass-wearing readers. Bella and I love you guys, and we are blind as bats as well lol. You’re amazing no matter what ^_^
every member of the cullen family:
we get it you love Bella Swan she is the light of your life the best most precious angel to ever stumble into your dark boring life if you lived for 100,000 more years you would still love Bella just as much she is too good for you and she's your literal reason for being alive we GET IT
“My journey has just begun.” “Let’s take it together. Forget all that you were. I’ll go with you wherever you wish to go. And then… we shall travel far, we shall be free. Because I love you. I love you, Bella. I love you.”
Imagine your Christmas dinner is
interrupted by Thorin’s company as unexpected guests.
Chapter One: Under Their Own Steam
The Sheriff of Hobbiton, Artemis
Took, strolled in through the open front door of their new blacksmith’s smithy.
It wasn’t every town in the Shire
that could boast having a Dwarrow blacksmith, let alone an apprentice of the
Master Blacksmith, but Artemis wished they had come by young Fili’s services in
a less tragic way.
morning, Mr. Fili! How’s that metal leg you made yourself holding up in this
looked up from his work, with a cheerful smile.
seemed genuinely happy, in Hobbiton, especially with his new wife, and that was
somehow more heartbreaking to Artemis than if the poor brave lad had been
a bit creaky. But as long as I keep on it, and I keep those gyro-gears moving?
Me leg ought to keep steaming along.”
and the Sheriff both laughed at his joke.
Took was one of Belladonna Took’s brothers, the only one who lived in Hobbiton.
In his sister’s stead, Artemis had determined to make things as right as he
could for these two young people since
Belladonna Baggins had returned from her long journey with her new husband.
had arrived in the middle of the auction of her property, with the older of the
Master Blacksmith’s nephews.
Fili had gained quite a bit of experience in life, and a wife, but he was
missing his Uncle, his brother, and his left leg below the knee.
Dwarves were a stoic lot and all Tooks are tough.
wasn’t long before the lad bought a piece of land on the main street, and built
those who suspected he might not have been as good a smith as his Uncle, when
they found out that Fili had designed and made his mechanical leg, all under
his own steam?
decided they could trust him with their business.
as their first Yuletide in Hobbiton approached, Artemis knew that Bella and
Fili would keenly be feeling the absence of family.
anyone who has spent five seconds around me ever:
yes, you love nikki bella, we know, you love nikki bella so much, she's the light of your life, you love her so much, you just love nikki bella, we KNOW, you love nikki bella you fucking love nikki bella ok we know, we get it, YOU LOVE NIKKI BELLA. WE GET IT.
Have you ever written anything for Bellatrix Lestrange, I mean I know she was a monster but she was also the only female death eater as far as we know, and a woman who was likely raised to be pretty and poised and bear perfect pureblood children for a husband. Do you ever wonder how she grew up so different from her sisters or where she decided violence was better than manners and smiles you could cut yourself on.
Closest you’ll get to my Bellatrix thoughts is probably my Andromeda Tonks story.
Mrs. Black, who preferred to be called Ms. Black, held little tea parties in the playroom for her three daughters. They used real porcelain tea cups and hot black tea. Mother would invite Minister of Magic Teddy Bear and Blood Traitor Stuffed Frog to their teas, set them up with their own little cups and then instruct—this is how you charm, coddle, insinuate—this is how you snub, strike, and smile.
That was the thing about Bella. She thought they were having tea. Annie, eleven, watched her mother come to the decision that Bella was someone you pointed at people.
By the time Andromeda’s mother met Tom Riddle, it was after the last time Annie would ever see her. But she knew—Andromeda could see it, her mother smiling slowly, touching her pearls, thinking now here is someone who knows how to aim.
You build your life around the things you want to be. Narcissa wanted to be safe. Andromeda wanted to be her own. Bella wanted a lot of things, but one of them was to be valuable.
Andromeda went out to Bellatrix’s grave a few months after Teddy’s fourteenth birthday. It was blocky and expensive. She wondered who had paid for it. It was pockmarked with curses and paint, magical writing and deep gouges, things earned from decades of spewing horror from her fingertips.
“You took my daughter from me,” she told the stone. Someone had sprayed a very nasty word across the two Ls. “I am not ever going to forgive you.”
Annie had spilled tea on Bella’s favorite doll, once, a little thing with thick curls and uneven glass eyes. Bella had shrieked about vendetta and then run off crying. Annie had snuck into her room that night with armfuls of all her softest toys and they had fallen asleep mid-giggle, little bodies curled around blankets and stuffed animals and each other.
“You called her dirty, lesser, for her father’s mundane blood, her husband’s scars. Yes, her grandparents are Muggles. And they are good, Bella—witty and kind and brave—and they taught her so many things about what life and love should look like. Yes, she married a werewolf, and he was skittish and stupidly noble and I miss him. Her son has his eyes six days out of ten, which is more often than Teddy keeps any other feature.
"I married a Mudblood, and my daughter married a werewolf, and my grandson is beautiful. And you would have killed him, too, if you had had the chance. I bet Mother’s bones sat up and applauded when you burnt that blood traitor filth from the family tree—
"Do you know what she was, Bella? What she was that we weren’t? She was loved.” Andromeda swallowed hard. “And I loved you once, Bella, but I didn’t know how to do it. And maybe I should have saved you then, but I was busy saving myself.”
Andromeda grew a garden over Bella’s grave, blooming narcissus, nightshade and belladonna. She made the stems thick, the vines hoary and tough and lasting, the flowers brilliant and unfurled. Bella had once been beautiful.
Andromeda left the graffiti on the headstone. She rubbed a thumb through one of the gouges in stone like the residue of that rage might still be there. Then she spat on it and walked away.
Her mother had burnt her off the Black family tree. Andromeda’s daughter had gone by nothing but Tonks. No drop of inheritance or favor would come down this family line, but Andromeda walked home through dry grass and smiled.
You burned us off the family records, Mother, but this is it, don’t you see? I am a Black. Nymphadora was a Black and she was mine. We are your legacy.
And don’t you see? We are loved. I was and am loved, love that I have earned and fought for and never, ever had to buy. You choose the people who choose you.
You tried to curse me and cast me out, but I left, don’t you see? I am loved, and my grandson will grow up loved. His world will be a better place than yours ever was.