MODEST HAVE DONE IT AGAIN! Seriously Sometimes I Feel Like Modest Are Just Some Kids Who Are Trying To

Hufflepuffs ARE:

hardworking

loyal

dedicated

kind

patient

honest

great finders

Hufflepuffs are NOT:

useless

talentless 

unwanted

spineless

pathetic

losers

don’t be ashamed; no matter what anyone thinks, you guys are awesome

[ gryffindor ]   [ slytherin ]   [ ravenclaw ]

Pomegranate Chapstick - Peter Parker

It’s Winter in New York City. Not that movie magic kind of Winter that reeks of mistletoe and Hallmark channel cliches. No, it’s no longer the Holiday Season and everyone is back to school after Winter Break. Peter Parker is happy to be back because being back means being able to see you again. Though, something is different about you but he just can’t place it.

“What is it?”

“Y/N…”

“Yeah?” Ned looked in the same direction as Peter, who, suddenly self conscious, turned his friend back around to face him. “What is it?”

“Don’t, don’t look! I just…” Peter found that his eyes trailed back over to where you talking with MJ. Your eyes were bright, hands gesturing about you as your friend shared you into a passion. Despite your movements, Peter found himself drawn back to your smile.

“Something’s different,” he finished, “but I don’t know what.” 

“It’s only been like two weeks. It was Christmas literally a few days ago.” Peter glanced warily at Ned before he looked back to you. You were still smiling. The sight made his chest tighten, stole his breath directly from his lungs. “Pete?”

“You remember Homecoming,” Peter pointed out as he met Ned’s eyes, “that all happened in a week and I almost died. Twice! Anything could have happened over break.”

Peter let his eyes wander back to you. Whatever MJ was discussing with you was enthralling. You were completely consumed, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. Slightly hidden under all of the layers of Winter clothing you were wearing, you looked warm, aflamed and bright. Suddenly, you threw your head back, laughing at something MJ had said.

The sound sent a shiver down Peter’s spine that he tried to pass off as a response to the cold. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket over his chilled hands and adjusted the strap of his backpack that dug into his shoulder. Ned blinked at him a few times, too close of a friend to not notice Peter’s nervous ticks. 

Eventually, Ned glanced over in your direction too. “Well, Y/N seemed alright. We had Advanced Geometry together and we talked.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Really? Did anything happen?”

“From what Y/N said, your Winter break was way more eventful, Spiderman.” 

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smile, darling: tom holland one-shot

a/n | was quite proud of myself for thinkin’ up this 1. also i’d like to get paid for taking pictures of tom please. screw the college degree. lengthy one shots are starting to become my staple huh

- anyway i’ve been feeling really burnt out lately so i’ll probably be taking a little writing break after this ♡

summary | tom holland is completely over paparazzi, tracking and exploiting his every move. that is, until he runs into one that he just can’t help but smile for.

cw | tom x paparazzi!fem!reader. language, alcohol use, a classic meet-cute, angst, relatively vanilla shower sex, fluff for days. 5.6k words.

pov: tom

The blinding flashes of old-fashioned bulb cameras were never a phenomenon easy to get used to.

He’d cast empty smiles, try to drown out the noise of the crowd of reporters as he whisked by. There was never a way for him to get out of the hubbub fast enough.

When he did take the chance to look around the sea of paparazzi, it was blurry nameless faces; people he didn’t know who were only interested in selling him to the media. As if the internet didn’t already have enough pictures of him being a celebrity, being the center of any and all attention, even occasionally trying to be a normal person. But he never got very far with that—it’s simply unnatural for someone to be the focus of a picture when they’re just trying to buy a cup of tea.

Wearing sweats out for a jog became a fashion statement, hugging an old female friend became a scandal. These people were relentless, squeezing every little bit of life out of him to meet a quota. Turning him into an object, a subject, pretty much everything under the sun except human.

One face he picked out from the usual crowd was different, though—younger, prettier, less chaotic. She was happy to be in the back of the swarm of cameras, oftentimes missing the perfect shot because she was just watching—her camera pointed toward the ground. She tried to see life before her through her own eyes and not the pupil of the lens. He noticed her at the events she attended, but never gave her a thought past the millisecond they made eye contact. That is, until they locked eyes for more than a split second; when she singlehandedly saved his sorry ass.

pov: you

You didn’t like your job.

You had gotten into photography to capture the beautiful stillness of nature, to be able to stare at the subject of your photo for hours on end and still get the perfect shot after basking in the reality of it for long enough. But dreams mostly stay dreams, and when you were offered a job as a photographer for a tabloid, you swallowed your pride and accepted. Dreams are wonderful and all, but they can’t pay your rent.

So you resigned yourself to capture the opposite of what you wanted—chaos, crowds of thousands, movie stars moving a mile a minute. You got enough content to keep your position, but you often found yourself trying to take in the essence of the scene before getting the perfect shot, and by then, the celebrity in question was gone. Your life had become a whirlwind, and all you wanted to do was stand still.

So, the day you were stationed outside of the hotel in Atlanta, told by your boss to keep your feet planted on the nondescript side street until you saw anyone of importance walk by, you were thrown off when the star of the movie came out of the doors to the service entrance with flask in hand and bags under his eyes, completely unaware that you were standing there. He flicked a burnt cigarette butt onto the ground and stepped on it, taking a swig from his canister. When he turned his head and saw you, you had your camera pointed directly at him; and to put it lightly, he freaked the fuck out.

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http://darbygirl30fanfic.tumblr.com/onlywheniclosemyeyes ^^^^^^ That is the best story from tumblr at the moment!!!! I just finished reading it, including the continuous one shot!!!! Love the writer, all credits to her

I knewwwwwwww he was lying 🙄 or at the very least hoped lol

invisible string: part 4 - holding onto nothing

pairing: soulmate!peter parker x reader

summary: harry starts a group chat to shit talk about peter, peter looks cute in pink hello kitty apron, you start a pillow fight and gwen stacy tries to be your bestie

word count: 21k (it’s a problem now)

warning: typos, swearing, peter being a dumbass, mentions of sex, gwen

a/n: thank you everyone for waiting an entire fucking month for this shit, enjoy! I am genuinely so sorry for taking so long to write this, but my exams are over and I’ll update the series weekly from now on…i think!! I am a hoe for feedback, I’d love to hear your thoughts! :))

↳ series masterlist || main masterlist

previous: part 3 - slipping through my fingertips

“He is fucking shameless.” Harry picked on his peas, slouching as he shifted in his seat, his chin rested on his palm, elbow propped up on the wooden table. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes trained on peter. 

He was just a few steps away from you, his brown curls scattered across his forehead, he scrunched his nose, trying to shake the curls out of his eyes and you just about died when his gaze flickered to you for a fleeting moment, amber eyes glossed with hurt pulled you out of your daze. 

You averted your gaze and he was quick to look away, his eyes focusing back on her. He had his arm around her. His lips ghosting over hers as she leaned closer, fingers curling around his wrinkled jacket that hugged his figure loosely. Her back was to the door-frame of the cafeteria, his arm pressed against the small of her back, his fingers playing with her golden curls. 

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Happy Birthday Jensen Ackles, Born March 1st 1978

YOU GUYS, I'M SCREAMING

Oh my god so in-case you didn’t know harry styles Favorited a porn tweet on twitter and some of the stuff I’ve seen is amazing 

Here’s the tweet (i’m not gonna add the pic for obvious reasons, but it’s in his twitter favs)

There are 2 types of people in this world and this is a perfect example:

i cant breathe 

omg

*evil cackle ^^*

THEN you have the ones who believe harry is an innocent angel and I just…

I wish that I could say that