The Mudblood and the Death Eater by Syuusuke007 (Aka LittleMissPandora)
I finally finished this! ;u; Took me quite a while because of school and other stuff.
*strips nekkid & drops it low low low low low lowwwwwww*
Hello beautiful..
“It’s strange playing a character that you could never truly embody. I can’t have Snow White’s effect on people. I can’t actually be completely selfless because nobody is. You can only really play a character like that in a fairytale and play it with an awful lot of integrity. She’s very fully formed but very farfetched-from-the-reality-that-we-live-in type of person. She also is strong in a very different way than you’d expect. She can kick ass. But you’re not watching going, “Yeah! Kill him!” Really, it’s more like you’re watching someone having to do something that doesn’t just go against your sensibilities or that you agree with. It’s gutting.” - Kristen Stewart
Talking about Kristen during the Breaking Dawn Part 1 promo.
He sure does love his girl
This tug of war, can’t go on any more
No body wins from this misery.
-Haley Reinhart “Free”He’d told her, countless times, it couldn’t go on and every time, as lips crashed against one another, as fingers entwined in each others’ warmth, as messy hair was brushed from a sweaty forehead, she’d nod her head in agreement.
For how could they work? She didn’t see a future with him and likewise, it was impossible for him to envision one for himself in which she was by his side. But no matter what his need for survival yelled at him, he couldn’t find himself letting go. He was a coward, he knew, selfish and proud. But as he stood before her, his long dormant heart pounding a thousand beats per minute, he found he couldn’t be a coward, couldn’t be selfish and above all else, he couldn’t afford to be proud.
He’d come to the heart sinking realisation that he was no longer thinking or acting on his own behalf, that everything he was now doing was pathetically for the girl standing before him, her Gryffindor jersey mocking his very existence.
His words were clipped, polite and unnervingly calm. Hermione kept her composure and her heart beat raced.
“Don’t come and find me again, Granger.” She didn’t know what hurt more -that he was so calm or the use of her surname. She matched his calm expression with one of her own. It wasn’t until he offered her a curt nod, her body still eerily and calmingly numb, that she found emotion rushing to the surface.
He was turning away and her face was contorting in the most painful way. Tears fell, hot and fresh, against her cheeks and the wind in the quiet hallway seared over her skin like a brand. No, she thought in her mind.
“No,” she said, her voice soft.
He stopped, halfway through turning. His own eyes closed, almost as if closing to the sight before him.
“No,” she repeated, her voice softer. His eyes opened and cold grey met heartbroken brown. She took a soft step forward and he reciprocated with a step back of his own.
“Stop it,” she demanded and the fire was back in her chest, its flames licking at her throat, her palm burning with the desire to connect with his stoic, porcelain cheek. “You don’t get to make decisions for me, you don’t get to make the choices and you certainly don’t get to tell me what to do.” She took a step forward and he didn’t take one back this time.
Her foot stamped against the cold stone floor, like a child throwing a tantrum, as she demanded.
“Why won’t you listen to me?”
