how can he be soooooooo pretty!!

Meeting Matt

So, we all had our takes on what Matt would be like and to be honest some pretty good fanfic had great characterization on him but let’s all be honest here


Originally posted by chatnoirs-baton


Originally posted by rufupan


Originally posted by rufupan

much better

Originally posted by auxias

than we expected!!

Originally posted by fudayk

And just to add my favourite one

Originally posted by blurryfandoms

How can I fall in love with so many characters?!!! He’s such a precious sister-loving, nerdy, loves to act cool older brother!! Just another to add to the list of why I’m jealous of pidge.

some alec and magnus headcanons:

(and more headcanons since i guess i can’t stop)

  • magnus is 100% the type of person who has a song for every occasion. alec knows almost none of them, but you’ll still catch him singing the lyrics he’s learned from magnus sometimes. he doesn’t have nearly the same sense of timing that magnus does though.
    • after alec leaves sometimes, magnus will sing the line “i’m outta my head hopelessly devoted to you” at the door behind him and alec catches him at it once but doesn’t let him know until he surprises him with a (terrible) rendition of the full song with the lyrics rewritten to be positive on what would have been his anniversary with lydia, if magnus hadn’t asked just once more. this is excellent timing. magnus cries.
  • magnus introduces alec to pop music. and to sex music – both the concept and his own playlist. alec thinks that maybe jace wasn’t always wrong about getting more familiar with the mundane world but he doesn’t regret putting it off til now for a second.
  • in addition to saying his full name as though it were the only word that’s ever mattered as a term of endearment, magnus calls alec “dear heart.” alec loves this more than anything.
  • magnus finds alec’s enthusiastic inexperience to be devastatingly charming in bed.
  • it helps also that alec takes direction well. extremely well.
  • alec, for his part, loves direction. loves knowing without doubt how to make magnus feel good. loves making magnus feel good. also he learns so much. soooooooo much. he had no idea there were so many positions for this type of thing. so many uses for hands and tongues. so many reasons to laugh in breathless, boundless joy while gettin’ jiggy with it (a phrase magnus bans him from using, can hardly believe he even uttered in the first place).
  • alec likes whiskey sours and pretty much no other kind of alcoholic beverage. (he can be talked into amaretto sours and will take orange juice in either – the latter is how magnus excuses their occasional breakfast drinking: “it’s just a variation on the mimosa theme, alexander.” he looks up at alec from over his own full glass, coy in full effect. “drink with me.” alec’s weak for this and he’s fine with it.) it takes them an entire day devoted to finding alec a drink he likes to discover it and as soon as magnus sees alec with it, he thinks “duh” and never offers him vodka anything ever again.
  • alec does get righteously drunk on vodka once – straight vodka, on his own. something goes bad at the institute – magnus never does find out quite what – and neither izzy nor jace are speaking to alec, for their own reasons, and alec shows up at magnus’ loft drunk off his ass. he chose vodka because it seemed faster and painful – magnus sees him gazing at his raw hand on the fire escape – and he pukes over and over and over again with magnus leaning over him feeling murderous towards everyone who had anything to do with alec feeling this way. they get through the night in magnus’ bathroom, alec telling him painful, incoherent things the whole time. magnus does not cure his hangover the next day, though he wants to, because he does not do things to alec’s body without permission – bar instances of immediate threat to alec’s life or someone else’s – and he does not have permission.
    • (there’s one particular story that alec tells about how proud his mother was of him taking a punishment doled out when he was a child, for being too good at something – “no one even knew it hurt, i couldn’t lay on my back for a week, but no one knew,” he tells magnus proudly. magnus thinks seriously that he’s going to be the one puking now. he also thinks that someone should save all four of maryse’s kids from her and save her from herself if that’s at all possible at this point. he thinks he’s gonna have to not be in a room with her for a very long time.)
  • after that alec decides that talking to magnus while sober is always a better dealing-with-shit strategy if he doesn’t want to wake up to his boyfriend insisting that he unpack some of the emotional issues he accidentally spilled to him and holding an overwhelming plate of the world’s fluffiest pancakes, saying, “you’re gonna wanna eat sooner rather than later, alec. yes i know this sucks, dear heart, but trust me. also, try to drink your body weight in water, starting right now.”
  • magnus has little to no concept of alec being just as gone on him as he is on alec and when alec figures that out, he spends a lot more time staring lovingly at magnus when they talk. he also gets a lot more handsy in public and magnus has had to pull him off of more than a few people who make snide comments about a warlock with a shadowhunter. soon, the spell where he pulls alec back by the fist is so familiar to them both that alec routinely takes it into a full backwards somersault and pops up on his feet at magnus’ side, where magnus has stepped to give him room to stick the landing.
  • magnus has a thing for ’90s bollywood. alec is still trying to figure out which songs are imaginary and which are actually happening in the story. he learns how to say “i love you” in hindi though and uses it a lot. he also uses the pet names he picks up, though he hasn’t quite grasped the pronunciations for most of them yet. he’s trying and honestly, most of the time magnus can’t hear it past the pounding of his pulse in his ears anyway because alec doesn’t do terms of endearment lightly so magnus doesn’t hear them lightly.
  • the first time magnus saw alec without his pants on he said, “boxer briefs, thank god.”
    • he followed this up by licking just above the waistband where it rested on alec’s stomach, hands on alec’s hips. this set off the biggest stutter spell in alec to date, which only calmed down after magnus kissed him on the mouth three times, i.e. once he had no choice but to use all his air for recovery.
  • magnus buys a punching bag for his loft. for shirtless alec reasons.
  • using it is alec’s version of “come hither” at least half the time.
  • they get caught fooling around in alec’s room at the institute – by clary, of course, because she, like jace, has no concept of knocking – exactly once before they never do that again. jace actually has to pay raj off to get him to stop talking about it. raj was passing by when clary spooked them and they started grabbing clothes and pulling on the wrong ones (magnus too frazzled to magick them clothed again which has never happened in his life but being intimate with alec just. throws him the fuck off his game) and he regards it as the best moment of his life. alec and magnus regard it as one of their worst. although that thing with his tongue that alec had figured out how to do just before that moment was pretty special, in magnus’ opinion.
  • alec is drifting one morning, laying against magnus’ chest in their bed, when he asks about the name magnus’ mother gave him. magnus tells him. “mm,” alec buzzes. “i think we should offer that name to the first child we adopt. they can take it as a middle name maybe.” and then he’s gone, completely asleep. magnus’ heart trembles.
Getting Stoned

Guys, I’m spamming the shit outta Michael Mell stuff and I’m sorry, I just keep having ideas.

Warnings: Marijuana usage, swears, sexual tones, smut mention
Word Count: 2351
Y/n/n = your nickname
Y/f/b = your favorite band
H/l = Hair Length


Monday, Lunch Time;

“You know what,” you suddenly said in the middle of lunch.

Both Michael and Jeremy looked at you as they asked, “What is it, (y/n)?”

You slapped your hands onto the lunch table, startling your boyfriend and best friend. “Michael, I’m taking you up on that offer to get…y'know…in your basement with you,” you answered, looking Michael dead in his chocolate eyes.

Michael’s eyes lit up when you said that. Immediately, he jumped up out of his seat and exclaimed, “Hell yeah!! (Y/n), we gotta do this soon!”

“Since I’m not a vet like you at this stuff, how about we do it on Friday? After school? Sound good?” you said with a wide grin.

Nodding furiously, your boyfriend laughed, “Oh my god! This is gonna be amazing!! I can take you home with me that day and maybe you can stay the night, because why not!”

Jeremy laughed at you two, “Does this really sound like a good idea, you two?”

“Shut it, Jer! You’ve done it with him! I’ve never done it with my boyfriend!” you exclaimed.

The taller geek blushed at your words, realizing what they insinuated. “(Y/n)!! Stop and think about what you JUST said!” Jeremy choked out.

You stopped and thought about it for a minute until it clicked. Your boyfriend and Jeremy were kind of known as “boyf” “riends” and when you said “it”, it made it seem like they have had sex and now it was your turn. Your face turned red and you covered your mouth, as you had said it rather loudly. “W-well…” you started meekly, but after thinking, gained confidence, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if Mikey was bisexual. That would make for some steamy sex! And we already try some kinky shit! Plus, who better to drag into sex than our best friend?!”

Jeremy and Michael’s face turned bright red at your words. For Jeremy, his face turned red because he had never heard you talk like that—being open to Michael being bisexual and putting forward the idea of a threesome between you three. For Michael, it was basically the same reason just ten times worse—it was embarrassing to hear his girlfriend talk like that. “Okay, okay,” your caramel-skinned boyfriend stuttered, blushing.

“What? I’m only telling the truth,” you smiled. Just before you continue making them uncomfortable, it was something you found funny, the bell rang. “Awww, lunch is over,” you pouted. You stood up and kissed Michael’s cheek before walking away.

“Dude, (y/n) is secretly really freaky in the bedroom, isn’t she?” a bewildered, still embarrassed, Jeremy asked his best friend.

Michael’s eyes never left your figure as you walked away, but he nodded to his best friend and answered, “Yeah… you’ve no idea, bro.”


Friday, After School;

Your mother was entirely fine with you spending the weekend with Michael. God, you loved how chill your mom was. You were waiting out by Michael’s PT Cruiser and you leaned against it, pacing back and forth. You were suddenly very nervous, you couldn’t remember how you acted when you were high. Were you obnoxious, or maybe really dumb, maybe needy or even worse—REALLY CLINGY? “Oh my God, I’m gonna be really annoying! I’m gonna annoy Michael when I get high,” you said to yourself, combing a hand nervously through your hair.

“Hey, (y/n/n)!” Michael called as he made his way to his car. “You ready for this?” he asked with a breathtaking smile.

Your nervousness seemed to melt away for a brief moment at his smile. “Y-yeah~ I’m ready~” you answered, drawing it out. The dark-haired, caramel-skinned Junior unlocked his car and signaled for you to get in. You gladly hopped into your boyfriend’s car and before he could plug in his music, you snatched the aux cord. “Can I play (y/f/b), babe?” you asked so cutely he couldn’t say no.

“Sure, of course,” he answered as he smiled at you. He turned on his car and the two of you were off.

As your favorite band played in the background, you broke your singing to ask Michael, “Soooooo… will this, like, KILL me, Mikey?”

His eyes flickered to your face for a spilt second as he answered, “Define ‘kill’, (y/n).”

Laughing, you replied, “Like, coughing wise, because dude I haven’t gotten high in a while!”

“Ooh! Depending on what’s going on with your body, like sinuses and shit, you could cough like a smoker,” came his answer.

“Oh,” you spoke in a small voice. That made you that much more nervous. What if you coughed so hard you threw up? You would look like a total pussy in front of your handsome boyfriend and you didn’t want that. You started fidgeting in your (h/l) hair, you twirled it around your right index finger and chewed your bottom lip anxiously. But, something inside you knew that Michael wouldn’t make it a big deal if you threw up, he would make sure you were fine before he did anything else, like getting high himself. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice that Michael pulled into his driveway and shut the car off. Michael brought you out of your thoughts by kissing your cheek as he stood outside your door.

“M'lady, we’re here,” he said with a goofy tone.

Shaking your head, you shot him a smile and got out of his car, closing the door behind him. “Thank you, kind sir,” you joked back.

Michael was giddy and jumping with joy. He had always offered to let you get stoned with him in his basement, but you always declined his offer. This would be his first time getting stoned with you and he was kind of excited to see how you reacted: he really hoped you got incredibly lovey. Noticing you were standing by his door, he walked over and unlocked his door. “Come on, to the basement, (y/n/n),” he said, his giddiness showing through.

Walking into his house, you follow him to the basement. It was a geek’s paradise down there, retro game systems, retro games, even the new consoles and games. A refrigerator was down there, too, and so was a snack cabinet. A geeky stoner’s paradise it was. And what made it even better was that he was with you, that he was the geek you loved and who loved you back. He was the retro geek to your modern geek, and you two molded together so well—personalities and all. You sat on a bean-bag chair that absorbed your body and you sighed in relief, school was hell today. Your (e/c) orbs watch intently as Michael got everything ready. How he broke apart the bud of weed into the joint paper, how he rolled the joint, making sure everything was perfect for your first time smoking in forever. It made you smile at how considerate Michael was being.

Lighting the joint, Michael handed it to you. With a smile, he said, “You take the first hit, Miss Sobriety-for-a-year.”

“Y-you sure, Michael?” you stutter, hesitant to reach out and grab the joint. He nodded and you slowly took the joint from his hand. Your eyes lingered on the joint and your nose crinkled in slight disgust at the putrid smell the burning weed gave off. However, you brought it to your lips and took a deep breath, reminding yourself that you never back out of things. Time seemed to stop when you took your first big hit in a year and a half. The taste stung your throat, making feel scratchy and tingly, and you wanted to get rid of it. You held your breath for a second, passing the joint back to your boyfriend. After only a second, you were sent into a coughing fit. You felt like you were hacking up a fucking lung and you felt like you needed to get mucus out of your lungs and chest.

Michael looked at you worriedly and asked, “You okay, babe?” You wave your hand at him, signaling you’re peachy, you just couldn’t vocalize you were fine because you were coughing and wheezing too much—trying to catch your breath. Before he took a hit himself, he got up and got you a water from the fridge. “Here, drink water, it should help,” he said before taking a hit himself.

You sat there and gulped down your water. Once your coughing fit ended, you just stared at Michael. Just taking in his handsomeness. The way his dark chocolate hair was styled upwards in his normal hairstyle beckoned you to mess it up. Michael offered you another hit and you took him up on that offer. When you spoke, you sounded different, like there was a weight sitting on your lungs, but they were fine. “Sure, I’ll take another hit,” you said in a deeper voice. Taking the joint, you took another hit and gave it back to Michael.

He laughed and said, “You seem pretty relaxed over there, babe.”

“Oh, fuck yeah I’m relaxed,” you said with a giggle. “I have ever told you how attractive your are?” Michael just blinked at you, sure you had told him he was attractive, but never HOW attractive you found him. He shook his head and you laughed and continued, “You’re so gorgeous, Mell. Like, boy, you don’t understand the things you do to my body. You make me yearn for everything you can give me and more. Your eyes, oh my god, your eyes! I can see soooooooo much love in this eyes, it makes me so happy.” Your eyes were dead-set on his lips and you laughed breathlessly, “And your fucking lips make me weak in the knees! Not only are they always so soft and perfectly kissable, but god the things they do to my body~! Fuck! Like when you ate me out the other day~ Oooooh~ you did it so perfectly, I came so fast. The way your tongue flicked against my clit while your fingers hit my g-spot JUST right, oh my God!” Your body was heating up the more you talked about the wonderful orgasm Michael gave you not even two days ago.

Michael’s face warmed up as he remembered what she was talking about. “Oh yeah, I remember that. How else am I attractive?” he mused.

“Oh my god!! Your dick drives me absolutely wild! The way it fills me up JUST right! Fits snugly into my pussy~ ugh!! Now I want it inside me right now~!!” You spoke. You looked at Michael and his face was beat-red and you smiled, “Oh, I’m sorry, am I turning you on or something? Talking about how you set my body on fire with even a single word.”

He nodded and said, “Maybe I’m a little turned on.”

You smiled, stood up and walked over to you boyfriend. Sitting in his lap, you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Want me to take care of it?” you asked in a giggly tone.

Michael laughed, kissed your cheek and said, “No, I want to enjoy the high with you, not fucking you.”

“But then I would be enjoying myself,” you said with a grin.

Michael kissed you over and over again, “(Y/n), I promise we’ll have sex when we both come down from our high. I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Babe~” you cooed, “it wouldn’t be fucking ruining it~! Just please fuck me~ fill me up with your love, yeah? Please~ I need it to stay alive~!”

He rolled his eyes as he said, “You don’t need it to live, (y/n/n), but maybe you can convince me otherwise.”

You ground your hips against Michael’s and you moaned as you felt his excitement growing. “C'mon Michael~ lemme take off your clothes and lemme sink onto you~” you cooed, kissing him on the lips.

Michael kissed you back all too eagerly. He placed his hands on your hips and kept you grinding on him. “You’re so fucking sexy, (y/n),” he whispered into your lips.

“God damn right I am,” you said back against his lips as you fingered the hem of his shirt, “Now take off the fucking shirt. And your pants. Or I’ll do them for you!”

“Show me what you got, (y/n),” he said to you.

Taking that as a challenge, you nod, got off his lap, and you started lifting up his shirt (he had discarded his hoodie before you got high). The more skin was revealed, you bent towards the skin of his stomach and placed kisses on his warm flesh. He gasped and you smiled, undoing his pants, you looked up at him and saw him smiling at you. “Lift your hips up so I can take off your damn pants,” you said against the flesh of his stomach. He nodded and lifted up his hips so you skillfully ripped off his pants. You always laugh at his boxers, this time it was Pac-Man. “Sexy boxers, Mikey.”

Michael looked down at you, his eyes had darkened and it sent a shiver down your spine. He was half-hard and you needed to get him harder before anything escalated further. And you REALLY needed it to go further. You had gotten yourself worked up talking about the things he did to you. You smirked and kissed down Michael’s navel and palmed him through his cute Pac-Man boxers. He gasped at your touch.


So, you two had sex while you were both stoned. It was actually some of the best sex you two had ever had. Your body’s were hot and ready before you and Michael even began the foreplay.

Obviously you both had come down from your high and my god being able to roll over and comb your fingers through Michael’s hair. He was still asleep but his dick was awake. “Ooh, look at you, Mikey,” you smiled. You woke him up to a really nice blowjob, it was fantastic according to what he groaned as he woke up.

HEY, luckily for all of you, I thought of an elaborate metaphor to express my X-Files feelings; here goes.

Years ago, this baker came up with a recipe for some oatmeal raisin cookies. They had raisins in them but also a lot of brown sugar and butter and a subtle blend of spices and other good stuff. Chocolate chips even. The raisins were well-balanced so that their sweetness perfectly complemented the cookie overall; even people who weren’t big into raisins enjoyed them. Now, the baker LOVES raisins, but he had a lot of assistants who worked with him to tweak the recipe so that no flavor dominated. Sure, they’re called “oatmeal raisin cookies,” but, you know, that doesn’t mean people just want to eat a pile of oatmeal and raisins, obviously! Haha.

The cookies were super popular and a huge seller for the bakery. For a brief time they actually made the town, and the baker, famous. After a while other kinds of cookies became more popular and took over, but at some point people were like “hey remember those amazing oatmeal raisin cookies?? Let’s ask the baker to make those again!” The baker was excited that people remembered them so fondly, and was delighted to make them again. He didn’t remember the EXACT precise mix of ingredients they had used back then, but he figured he would start with the basics: oatmeal; raisins; it’s a tried-and true formula! Obviously it had worked last time! And, who doesn’t love raisins?? They’re sweet and chewy! Not that the cookies NEEDED any improvements, but if there WERE improvements to be made, it would obviously be more raisins.

He recreates the cookies, not skimping on the raisins, and everyone is so excited that they are back! Oatmeal raisin cookies! Remember those?? They were SO GOOD! The people have such residual affection for those cookies, and such fond memories of eating them as kids and how fantastic they tasted, and they line up to buy them! And they are…good! There is still a nice butter and brown sugar taste, and raisins, which, obviously, it’s in the name, so, that’s important, right? There are…so many raisins. The people LOVE these cookies though. They’re a classic! Were there this many raisins last time?

The baker is delighted by the success of the cookies and he keeps adding more and more raisins, because obviously, what he’s doing is working, right?? People keep buying them! Clearly they love raisins as much as he does! Otherwise, why would they be so into something called “oatmeal raisin cookies”? More raisins can only make it better! He would know, right? Considering he created these cookies in the first place?? He adds more and more and more raisins. People will get their cookie and be excited, and take a bite and be like, uh holy fuck that’s a lot of raisins, but I mean, they’re still great cookies! And I remember them so fondly! So the baker is like EXCELLENT THEY LOVE THE RAISINS SOOOOOOOO MUUUUUUUUCCCHHHH and he starts a raisin farm so he can have an endless supply of raisins and he hires bakery assistants who love raisins as much as him (including some of the assistants who worked there before and are like “Did we use this many raisins last time? I guess we must have”), and people keep buying the cookies, because the part you can taste around the fucking thousands of raisins is still pretty yummy, but that part keeps getting smaller and smaller. But! Remember how much we loved these cookies as kids! People keep buying them and eternally hoping that they will capture that delicious balance that they used to have. They can almost taste it. They buy more and more, looking for that taste again. They eat a LOT of raisins while doing that.

Sometimes the bakery will get a negative review, like, “yeah, I do remember when these cookies used to be good, but now it’s just like eating a fucking entire box of raisins and I got indigestion and what happened to the chocolate chips?? There weren’t a LOT of chocolate chips but they were so good. And didn’t there used to be spices? I don’t taste any of that anymore. This dude is obsessed with raisins and these cookies suck now. One star.” The baker does NOT let this get him down! Obviously these naysayers don’t understand him or his lifelong skill at making oatmeal raisin cookies. Anyone looking for chocolate chips in these cookies is looking in the wrong place, buster! Why don’t you just eat a Mars bar? Geez. He keeps on doing what he knows best.

Meanwhile you have the bakery front staff having to sell and cheerlead these raisiny cookies that people keep coming in and being excited about. They have sampled them, and privately they are like, “What the FUCK is with these cookies that are like 95% raisins?? THIS is the thing this baker is known for? THIS is the thing these people are lining up to buy?” They work there (and have worked there for a long time, including back in the day when the oatmeal raisin cookies first got popular and they barely had time to try them because of the lines outside the door and the unending busy-ness of their shifts), and they have a job to do and they’re professionals for pete’s sake (and loyal to this baker who has employed them for so long), and all they know is that people are so enthusiastic about these cookies, and that’s nice, even if they don’t really understand why. (Sometimes they will take a bite and be like “yeah, I kinda get it” but most of the time it’s just, my god these are so raisiny. SO RAISINY. But OK, people love raisins, I guess.) 

So they keep saying things like, “Yup, well, he has this recipe and obviously he knows what he’s doing, he’s been making these cookies for so long! Well, enjoy those! Have a great day!” People leave with their boxes of oatmeal raisin cookies and in the car they start eating them and they’re like “…this is a lot of raisins” but mostly what the front staff see are people excitedly paying for their cookies and leaving. Plus, they are committed to the whole endeavor at this point, so if people take a bite of their cookie in the bakery and are like “…THE HELL ARE THERE SO MANY RAISINS IN THIS” they will get irritated, and say, well, that’s what they’re called, oatmeal raisin cookies! People love them, sorry they’re not to your taste, but, you know, they’re a classic, so obviously other people feel differently, lol! Then they kind of glare at that person as they walk out the door.

If asked directly about how they feel about the cookies, the front staff will be like, “Um, well, uh, just in my OWN life in my own particular tastes I generally prefer cookies that have…more of a variety of flavor, I guess, but obviously these oatmeal raisin cookies are a town classic and everyone loves them. And, I mean, they’re great! You know, we don’t do the baking, haha! We leave that to our eminently talented boss! And we are so inspired that people enjoy them so much!” Which, you know, they are. The bakery has been good to them, and if people seem to be bafflingly crazy for what at this point pretty much amounts to piles of raisins stuck together in a patty and baked in an oven, who are they to object?

Eventually people, not even really knowing why themselves, stop coming to the bakery and buying the oatmeal raisin cookies. “These millennials, all they want today is gluten-free stuff,” the baker sighs. He makes another batch of cookies. He thinks maybe he’ll try adding some more raisins. That can only improve them. Hey, it’s always worked in the past!

And, scene.

Get Well Soon

I wrote this a few days ago, cause I had a song in my head and then this idea just latched on xD It’s super cute though if you need a fluff fix. I could imagine SO MUCH Derek trying soooooooo hard to get those letters right, even though he’s still so little.

‘Get well soon’ the card read, sprawled across the front of a folded over piece of paper, clearly written in red crayon, with a coloured in picture of a heart at the bottom.

Derek had scrambled his way up onto the bed, pulling at the blankets for each grip, even though they did pull away so it wasn’t exactly that useful, but he had little legs and the bed was pretty high. He presented the card to his mother with a very proud look on his face. He thought it was perfect, absolutely 100% perfect.

“He’s been making that for hours.” Owen said, standing in the doorway of their bedroom with a proud smile on his face. “Looking at books to make sure his letters looked the same, wouldn’t settle for anything less.” He continued. Derek had been so focused and determined, and he was only 3 years old. Owen has watched him jam the crayon into the page to make letters, and scrunch up his face all right like he always did when he ‘needed to concenrate’.

“It’s perfect.” Amelia smiled, putting a hand on her son’s head and ruffling his hair.

“I did it all for you mommy.” Derek smiled, snuggling as close as he possibly could up against his mother. “I did it to make you better.” He said, truly believing that his well wishes would actually make his mommy not sick anymore.

“That’s very kind of you.” Amelia smiled, putting her arm around his back and giving him a little squeeze.

“Do you need anything? We’ve got more soup in the fridge if you’re hungry.” Owen asked, starting to clear the mountain of tissues that Derek had knocked off of the bed.

“Soup would be good.” Amelia nodded, closing her eyes and leaning up against Derek.

“Can I have soup?” Derek asked. He was pretty hungry, he had been hard at work for soooooooo long.

“You can have soup too bud.” Owen smiled, putting the remainder of the tissues into the bin near the door.

“Can I help?” Derek asked, tearing himself away from his mother at the possibility of being able to help.

“How about you can be my special stirrer, if you’re careful.” Owen said, since stirring was a pretty easy task and as long as they got the big step, and Owen didn’t take his eyes off him, there shouldn’t be a problem at all.

“Very careful.” Derek nodded, shuffling across the bed and dropping off of the edge.

“Okay.” Owen said, reaching out for Derek’s hand so they could go out to the kitchen together. “See you in a few minutes.” He said to Amelia, before pulling the bedroom door to not quite closed, like it had been beforehand.

anonymous asked:

i love Ferre who is just great with children, like they love him and he loves them, but just give me some Ferre who is shy and awkward and insecure towards children at first because he has no idea how they work (even if he loves them)

I mean… Combeferre wasn’t a cool kid. Like.. AT ALL. He’s cool now as an adult but damn he spent his childhood reading books and making friends with ladybugs for crying out loud! What do kids even LIKE these days??? Table top RPG? Space conquest? Who knows? Not him.

So one time he had to babysit Courfeyrac’s nephews. Don’t get me wrong, he LOVES kids. He just doesn’t know how to DEAL with them. And those are bilinguals kids, so it’s even more complicated. He has no idea what they’re saying! Courfeyrac’s spanish lessons aren’t exactly kid friendly!

“Soooooooo kids…. The Cursed Child… Pretty messed up right?”

The kids look at him, eyes wide like flying saucers.

“Harry Potter? Anyone? That’s… oh my god…”

“I watched all the movies!”

“Yeah me too!”

Oh! Finally something he can work with!

“Oh nice! Well…. Maybe Courfeyrac didn’t tell you but… I’m Beauxbatons’ Potion Master assistant. I could show you some potions if you want!”

And that’s how Combeferre tricked Courfeyrac’s nephew into learning chemistry for a full afternoon. He lends them his Harry Potter books because damn it boys read it there’s a lot of cool stuff in there