i'm sorry i'm sooo sorry


if the Chase family actually have a good relationship from the start.

uh. this was intended to be that scene when magnus met annabeth for the last time before their parents fights but mysteriously it became a very random sleepover scene-___- 


Some more Film Gold stuff~

No matter what it is that I’m into

This blog will always be full of gays

I’m just still so happy the BMAM is back!!!
I mean LOOK at THEM! I’m still so excited!
And she and Serena will both be right there in the next episode!
I just feel giddy with it! Aaaaah!!!

Punk/Pastel AU

(AN: I’M SO FUCKING LATE OMG SORRY!!!! Anyway, Baz is very soft and insecure in this one. It might seem a bit out of character sometimes, but I just wanted to try it. Also, Simon is a punk somehow, but still awkward.)


I try to go to the library as often as I can. Which is way to often (that’s what Agatha says). But I feel safe when I’m there. My anxiety is always smaller after I’ve been there.

Today I can hardly think about anything else. I’ve been in this classroom for too long, the air is stuffy and my butt hurts. I can feel people staring at me from behind and just hope that they’ll not try to kick my ass after this period. I’ve had enough of that yesterday.

When the teacher finally ends the class, I basically storm out of the room. Having long legs might be helpful, but there’s no better way to become a fast runner than being half-Egyptian and gay. Trust me, running is going to be one of the first things you’ll learn after starting school.

The bus ride is short and quiet. I look out of the window, counting every dog we pass. When I step out of the bus, I’ve counted 9 dogs. It makes me a bit sad, considering my personal record is 26.

I inhale deeply as I enter the library. Excitement fills me while I walk towards the little corner in which I always sit until the day outside gets dim and I have to go home. I have a little game where I try to finish a book before I have to leave. Once, on a Saturday, I sat here for 7 hours. The only flaw in this game is that I can’t cry when I’m finishing a book. It would make me seem like an even bigger geek, and believe me when I say that I’m already pretty far up there.

There aren’t many people in the library today. Normally, this would be the perfect atmosphere to start a book, but it seems to be one of these days where I can’t decide what to read. Nothing feels right. I sigh, sitting down in the green armchair, opening a book I know will be good, but the tingling I usually feel when starting a new book is missing.

Half an hour has passed and I’m not even halfway through the book I’ve picked. But that isn’t what makes me look up. Someone entered the library and I can tell that they’ve never been to one before. They are ruffling around, pulling books out of shelves and accidentally dropping things. I can’t even see them yet, but as I hear someone stumbling over a pile of books, I roll my eyes, deciding I don’t even want to see them. But as always, life is not on my side.

I haven’t even focused on the words on the page again, when someone walks right into the gap between the two rows of shelves where I’m sitting. I snap my head up, ready to glare at the person, but as soon as I lay my eyes on them, my mouth goes slack.

It’s a boy. No, that’s not right, it’s the sun in person. If the sun had a lip ring and wore shaggy jeans and Doc Martens.

His hair is spun gold and his skin is caramel, with freckles and moles dotted on it like tiny sprinkles of chocolate.

I must be staring at him with eyes like saucers, but he doesn’t even notice me. Currently, he’s pulling a book out of a shelve, just to put it back again. In the wrong spot. I frown, looking down on my book again because I don’t want to be caught ogling this guy openly. Still, I sneak another glance at him. He’s studying the back of Hamlet, looking slightly confused. Then, he puts it into an empty spot, between two books by Charles Dickens.

I don’t know what’s happening until I’m standing right next to him, clearing my throat.


Someone clears his throat behind me, and I try not to jump. When I turn around, I am confronted with the cutest dude I’ve ever seen. He’s wearing a pastel blue shirt, light blue jeans and white converse. His black hair is put up in a top knot and I nearly miss the blush under his olive skin.

“Uh, yeah?” I stutter, running a hand through my curls.

His eyes are darting around, like he doesn’t know where to look. Finally, his gaze fixes somewhere over my shoulder.

“That doesn’t belong there.” he mumbles, and gestures towards the bookshelf next to us.

I just stare at him, my brain working harder than ever. What is he talking about?!


The boy bites his lip and I am very proud of my self-control, because all I want to do is to kiss those pink lips right now.

“The book. Hamlet. It’s supposed to stand there next to the other books by Shakespeare.”


“I didn’t know!” I say, trying very hard not to sound like an absolute imbecile.

His brows are pressing together when he looks up at me. The only thing I realise is the extraordinary shade of grey in his eyes.

“Have you ever been to a library before?” he asks.


The boy’s cheeks flush beautifully and I have to tear my gaze away from his face before I do something silly. Like kissing that mole on his right cheek.

“To be honest, no, not really.” he confesses, fiddling with the hem of his Nirvana shirt. There’s something about this guy that makes my insides flutter, but he looks very straight and I’m not known to flirt with boys as cute as him. Actually, I’m known to not ever flirt.

I nod, and after that we spend talking several more minutes about how to behave in a library. When I’m halfway through lecturing him how to find the exact book you’re looking for, his hand brushes against mine. It sends something akin to a shock through my body and I can shut my mouth quickly enough so that I don’t gasp.

This boy is going to be the death of me.


I’m not sure how much time I’ve spend talking to this guy who laughs at my bad puns, talks passionately about the history of this library and shivers every time our hands collide.

But I’m very sure that it’s time to step this up a bit. I really don’t want to leave, not knowing whether I’ll ever see him again or not. (Because I absolutely want to see him again.) So I open my mouth before he can start with another paragraph about the importance of an organised bookshelf.

“By the way, I’m Simon. Simon Snow.”

He looks surprised for a second, but composes himself quickly.

“Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.” There’s a cheeky flicker in his eyes.

“You’re kidding me, right? This can’t be anyone’s real name!” I exclaim, watching him grin with wide eyes.

“I’m being perfectly serious. You can call me Baz though.”

I nod, while trying to straighten my expression.

“Good, your full name would have been way to long as a contact name. Plus, there’s no way I could have remember that. I’ve already forgot it. You’ll have to type it in yourself.” I say, handing him my phone.

Baz blushes furiously, but starts typing anyway. When he looks up at me again, the smile on his face is shy, but so sweet I feel my heart begin to swell.

Our fingers touch for a heartbeat when he gives back my phone, and he reddens even more.



Simon practically beams when I tell him to call me. There’s a small noise at the back of my throat, but I keep my mouth shut.

I missed the bus, but I don’t even mind walking home twenty minutes. Not when I remember every time Simon glanced at me when he thought I couldn’t see it and how warm his hand was whenever it touched mine.

He might look like a homeless person who joins demonstrations every weekend, and for how much I know, he could be one, but I don’t want to miss this feeling ever again. It’s way too good to give up just because Simon looks not like any guy I’ve ever seen.

He might actually like me and hell, I’m sure I really like him too. I’ve never been more sure of anything.

And he promised he’d call me.

…and the clear voice was like the ring of steel. “But no living man am I!”

FMA-LotR crossover anyone? :)
Éowyn!Riza, inspired by a conversation with @the-flame-and-hawks-eye


But I know what to say now. I have thought about you and I like you, and I like being with you. And..maybe I feel the same way. So the next time you tell me you love me, if there is a next time, I’ll say I love you too.


“Wow, I like this!” Sirius exclaimed, closing his eyes as he listened to the song.  You smile as you watch him take in the music, the lyrics.  Suddenly he opens his eyes, glances at you, and raises a brow curiously.  “Y/N, care to have this dance?”

“What?” you respond, a little surprised, eyes widening.

“I said, would you like to dance with me, Y/N?”

“I’m not sure that’s what you said exactly, but yes, I would love to.”

You giggle as you two begin to dance, him twirling you around to the sound of Frank Sinatra’s voice.