#I know the lamb biscuit is not supposed to be baked just like that

[frederics-fiends]

Late of one day because I got ill in between several drawings... But lil' doodles of the creature experiencing easter ! Ferret almost managed to eat the whole easter lamb biscuit in a single bite, leaving only the lil' tail to eat for the priest. The experience with chocolate was far less pleasant...

Alright ok I also made a bun priest here you go

[amongemeraldclouds]

starry eyed

Tom Riddle never meant to feel affection. That warm, sickly feeling felt like indigestion and heartburn. An inconvenience. But Salazar, you had never been on a date. It was an injustice he needed to make right.

Tom Riddle x f!Reader | Based on this request | Fluff

✿ Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Tea Party | 1.9k words

It was just supposed to be another project. Tom Riddle expected you to just be another schoolmate who would let him do most of the work so he could have things exactly as he wanted. He never minded the work; enjoyed it, even. But he did mind having another student’s grimy fingers all over his carefully planned and skillfully executed projects. Just the thought of it made him want to cast crucio on whoever owned those grimy fingers.

Yet you managed to squeeze your way through his neatly arranged schedule. A row of clean lines and routines that made room for your squiggles and smiles. Literally. You had penciled yourself in his timetable “library with y/n for Astronomy project :)”. At least you had capitalized the A in Astronomy as all subjects should be.

That was how he first found himself walking towards you at the library. People respected him, was even intimidated by him. But you smiled up at him like you had been friends forever and he nearly doubted for a second if he was supposed to be there. He figured you were either naive, a lamb prancing into the lion’s den, or simply unbothered.

“Why did you invite me here?” He asked, placing his books across you in the library.

“Hi Tom,” you beamed, ignoring his question. “I’m doing great. Thanks. For a smart person, that sure is a silly question.”

He clenched his jaw and so you soldiered on. “We were paired together for the project so I thought we’d meet tonight to discuss. You may not be used to it Mr. Perfect, but I always help out with all my projects so like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

“Fine,” he breathed out quickly. “Just try to keep up,” he said curtly as he opened his books to discuss.

“Maybe you’re the one who has to keep up with me,” you said, unfazed.

But he ignored you and launched straight into the project details and his plans. Your eyes widened and you grabbed your notebook and pen. Tom’s mouth twitched and you imagined it was his version of a smile. He really was going to make it difficult for you, but you were up for the challenge.

You may have also had a crush on him, but that definitely had nothing to do with the way your heart was pounding in your chest. School could also be intense and exciting. Ha.

By the third written sentence, you managed to catch up and gather all the details he had in mind for the project. You asked questions about the plan and Tom was surprised you mentioned a minor detail he had not previously considered. It irritated him, but you had also managed to earn his respect.

The discussion had been a lot more engaging than he thought. Though it probably didn’t say much considering his expectations had been so low, it had melted with the lava down the centre of the Earth.

You tapped on the table lightly. “Now that we’ve accomplished a lot, it’s time for snacks!”

Tom blinked, not sure if he heard you right. “What are we to do with snacks?”

You blinked back. “To eat. So we can take a break from all the studying?”

“I don’t do breaks. My focus levels are perfectly fine,” he stated.

“This is why you’re so grumpy all the time! You don’t eat snacks or take breaks,” you slapped a hand to your forehead.

“Ah yes you have cracked the mystery. You now know everything about me,” he replied sarcastically and you snorted. If you hadn’t felt so tired, you may have spent some energy being embarrassed for your un-lady like behaviour in front of your crush. But you had your priorities straight.

“Try these biscuits I baked and I promise you will know all about joy and the wonders of the universe,” you offered.

“So it’s spiked?”

You looked horrified. “I’ll have you know my baking is magical all on its own.”

“It’s bad enough that I have to work on this project with you. If I go on this break with you, will you leave me alone to complete this project?”

“Maybe,” you said, scooping up your belongings and rushing out the library before he could change his mind. You inwardly cheered when he followed you.

Tom didn’t take any of your words seriously, but when he bit into the biscuit, the buttery goodness that melted in his mouth made him feel like he was coming home to a place he never knew he belonged to. Not that he would ever tell you.

“What’s your favourite astrological event?” He asked as he savoured the biscuit.

“I love meteor showers, though I’ve never seen one before. Imagine seeing a cluster of stars raining down the sky,” you said, after a moment’s pause.

“Don’t have to imagine, I’ve seen it before,” he said unimpressed.

Your eyes widened in fascination. “What did you wish for?”

He looked affronted. “I don’t do wishes, I make things happen.”

You slapped your thigh and his eyes followed your movement, making you blush. “How could you not make a wish? It’s like having a magic lamp and using it as a teapot. Where’s the wonder and romance?”

“Magic is a science, it’s why we’re here,” he insisted.

“We’re here for biscuits,” you declared instead and shoved another into your mouth. He inwardly smiled. Sure, if anything were to be magical the way you saw it, he supposed it could be those heavenly biscuits. 

He was sure that was the last time he’d meet you outside of class. But the very next day, he found your squiggly handwriting on his timetable again. “Library with y/n for Astronomy project + snack break :)” He sighed, but he secretly looked forward to the buttery biscuits.

You made good progress on the project as the days passed. Tom continued to be surprised by your helpful contributions. Sure they were unconventional and your process was far too scattered for his liking, but you came up with creative ideas and were equally as committed as he was to the project.

Tom suggested extra research for some information he wanted to include and you managed to read all the chapters he wrote down. All for the love of education. You were certainly not a girl trying to impress your crush. Nope.

The snack breaks were also not as miserable as Tom thought they would be. You got to know each other better and there was something strangely fascinating about you. Then there were those life-changing biscuits.

He sometimes found himself craving those buttery goods during his long hours of studying. The problem was that he could not get them anywhere else except from you. It didn’t help that you were nearly done with your project and would soon have no reason to see each other. That diabolical woman, he thought.

Something else stayed with him. On one of your snack breaks, you finally built up the courage to ask Tom about his dating life. He managed to deflect and turn the question around to you, but you didn’t mind. Hopefully you sharing would one day help him open up to you.

“What was the last date you’ve been on?” He asked and you watched in slow motion when he licked the corner of his lip to catch a stray crumb. You had to dig your nails into your palm to stop yourself from squealing.

Then you thought hard about his question. “What qualifies as a date?” You asked cautiously.

“Someone who likes you takes you out, preferably somewhere you like, and you spend quality time together.”

“Well,” you turned it over in your head, “then I guess I’ve never been on a date before.” You quickly added, “I have had boyfriends before, we just did things they liked and anyway, it’s no big deal.”

It had been days, but he still seethed at the memory. He was not one for romance, but even he felt indignant that all that sunshine and sweetness was wasted on boys who didn’t know what they had. That evening, he added you to his timetable himself. He was going to set things right.

“Are you sure you’re not here to m*rder me and take full credit for our brilliant project?” You asked as you followed Tom Riddle deeper into the woods. You hugged your coat tightly as the evening chill swept around you. The crickets chirped and twigs snapped below your feet.

“Do you think I’d announce it if I was? Besides, there’s no one around so you’ll just have to trust me,” he replied.

“I thought we were becoming friends,” you remarked.

“Never assume things,” he said matter of fact.

You gripped your wand tightly and walked on. He was right. You followed a boy into the woods at night because you had a crush on him. You cursed inwardly and vowed to make better decisions in your next life.

We’re here!” he announced. There was a clearing ahead and before you could ask what it was, he pointed to the sky. “Should be about now,” he commented. The next moment, you watched as stars glittered and rained down the sky. It was a meteor shower. Your eyes brightened, reflecting the glowing lights that dove through the sky.

“You said you’ve never seen one before and it just so happens there’s one tonight and this is the perfect spot,” he explained before you could even ask. He then asked you to make a wish.

“Only if you make a wish with me,” you said, looping your arm around him. You figured it was the closest he’d allow a hug. Surprisingly, he stayed beside you, letting you lean into him.

“Isn’t it enough to just watch this with you? You like it, don’t you?”

The pieces clicked in your head. “You said and I quote ‘a date was when someone who likes you takes you out, preferably somewhere you like, and you spend quality time together.’ Mr. Tom Riddle, is this your way of telling me you like me? Is this,” you motioned at the stars and around you, “a date?”

“What did I tell you about assuming things?” He deflected and pointed at the stars again. “They won’t fall forever, you know. Are you going to use this magical lamp as your teapot?”

Perhaps it was the shooting stars or the cold evening air, or being alone with the boy you liked in the dark forest, that made you bold. 

“What if you’re the only one who can grant my wish?” You gave him your brightest smile and Tom could read all the words you’d never speak aloud in your eyes. He shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips and he brought them down to yours.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle and you wrapped your arms around him, letting your body melt against him. He pulled you in closer, his arms strong and confident as if you belonged to him. He placed tender kisses down your jaw, moving slowly to your neck, and as you gazed up, you watched the last of the stars fall down the sky. 

The cold bit down your skin as Tom stepped back and you immediately missed his warmth. “You like me!” You beamed.

“How are you so sure I’m not just after the biscuits?”

You wrapped your arms around him, enjoying the warmth again. “I’ll bake you all the biscuits you want. Doesn’t change the fact that you also like me, which works perfectly because I like you too. You’re never getting rid of me now.”

Tom returned the hug. Not that he wanted to get rid of you anyway.

✿ Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Tea Party

A/N: Tom secretly liking biscuits is so adorable. A subtle nod to our tea party!

[isitgintimeyet]

Letting Go

AO3

Previous

Happy Thursday! Thanks for reading and all your support, two more to go after this. Hope you enjoy!

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta

And @happytoobserve for the encouragement

Chapter 14: Hello Again

Hello, again, hello Just called to say hello I couldn't sleep at all tonight And I know it's late I couldn't wait

Neil Diamond, Alan Lindgren

A sense of déjà vu crept over Claire as she scrambled around on the office floor, searching through the piles of papers emptied from her filing cabinet. The one certificate -- her medical degree from Glasgow University -- that she needed for her job applications and she couldn’t find it. Although she now knew exactly where it must be… back in the safe in the loft… at Uncle Lamb’s house.

********

Jocasta opened the front door and welcomed Claire warmly into the house. She led the familiar way into the kitchen.

“Ye’ll have a brew afore ye go and find yer certificate, will ye no’? Murtagh will be in shortly. He’s just planting up some tubs fer the garden.”

Claire gazed out of the window and watched as Murtagh carefully placed a large terracotta pot, full of a riot of brightly coloured pansies, on the ground next to the swing. Instinctively, she gave a slight smile and turned to Jocasta.

“You know, when I came to live here after my parents died, that swing was the first thing that Uncle Lamb gave to me.”

“Ah, I ken it must hold many memories fer ye. Murtagh’s godson, Jamie, reckoned it must be important… tae leave it in the garden, even though it’s no’ been used fer years.” Jocasta glanced across at Claire, who was  again turned towards the window.

**********

Eight years ago

“Ye ken, at Lallybroch, I’ll build a swing fer our bairns. Weel, more than one swing. We dinna want them tae be fighting over it. Swings and a seesaw and a wee climbing frame… mebbe a treehouse. There’s an old tree…”

“Wow, Jamie, you have this all planned, don’t you?”

“Aye. Do ye no’ think about these things, about the future?”

“Well, yes, but more generally. I want us to be together, I want to be a qualified surgeon. More than that I hadn’t planned. Who knows what will happen?”

“I ken. We’ll be together at Lallybroch. I’ll always want ye with me.”

**********

Murtagh joined them at the kitchen table as Jocasta poured three mugs of tea and placed the biscuit tin on the table. Murtagh opened it, and after offering it to Claire, helped himself to a couple of chocolate digestives.

He sighed contentedly. “Ah, there’s nothing better in the afternoon than a cup of hot tea and a chocolate biscuit. And nowadays we seem tae have more biscuits in the tin than we used tae, Jocasta?”

“Aye, weel, that’ll be because Jamie’s no’ been here as much as he was. He’s a devil fer all the wee snacks. He can go through ma pantry like a swarm of locusts.”

“Ye’re not wrong. Jamie, he’s ma godson, ye ken,” Murtagh explained to Claire. “He’s been visiting with us a lot, up until fairly recently.”

Claire tried to focus on her mug of tea, desperate not to let any emotion show on her face.

Murtagh continued between mouthfuls of biscuit. “Aye, he was here regular a while back. And I kent there must have been a lass involved tae be driving from Lallybroch so much. But nae more, apparently.”

He paused, brushing a couple of stray biscuit crumbs from his beard and took a swig of tea. “He admitted it last time he was here, that there had been a lass he had his eye on, wanted it tae go further but it wasna any use. She was with someone else and now it’s too late.”

Claire tried to relax and keep her breathing steady. Jocasta watched her out of the corner of her eye.

“And…” Jocasta prompted. “Did Jamie no’ have anything more tae say about it?”

“Weel, here’s the thing. He kent her a long time ago, afore he went tae America. And now he’s back but she’s moving away with a new job. It’s a shame, it’s time he settled down. He needs a good woman...”

“Are ye ok, dear? Ye’ve gone awfa pale.” Jocasta laid a hand gently on Claire’s arm.

“Er, yes… I’ve just… it’s my blood sugar.”

“Aye, of course, that must be it. Have a biscuit, dear, and we can go and get that certificate.”

***********

With the certificate safely in her bag, Claire made her way into the kitchen to say goodbye. Jocasta was still in there, now busy peeling potatoes. Murtagh had returned to the garden to continue the planting.

“Thanks for this. Sorry I had to disturb you. So, goodbye.”

Jocasta wiped her hands on her bright floral apron. “Will ye no’ sit down a minute? I wonder if we could have a wee chat.”

Claire sat down at the table. “Oh, is there a problem with the house?”

“Och no, the house is fine. We love living here. It’s, weel, I hope ye dinna mind me asking, but ye said on the phone ye needed the certificate fer a job. Are ye moving away tae a new hospital?”

“Possibly… er… there may be opportunities elsewhere for me… nothing’s been decided yet… I’m just exploring… you know…” Claire’s voice tailed off as she looked down at her hands, unwilling to let Jocasta see the truth on her face.

“And ye’re no’ planning on leavin’ because of a man?”

Claire shook her head, fighting back tears.

“Claire dear, I’m sure this is none of ma business, but I canna help but ask… is it ye Jamie was talking about? Did ye know each other years ago?”

Claire thought for a moment before answering truthfully. “I did know Jamie before he went to America, but we sort of lost touch. What made you ask?”

“I dinna ken… I suppose it was a few things. The way Jamie reacted when I spoke about moving that swing, the way he somehow kent his way around this house without being shown, the shocked way ye reacted when I mentioned Jamie’s Da. But I’m guessing ye were more than friends?”

Jocasta walked over to the fridge and poured a glass of water. Sitting down, she pushed the glass in front of Claire. “Here ye go. Do ye ken how Jamie feels about ye? Is that why ye’re planning on moving?”

“I thought… I thought… when we met -- by chance -- he was so cold to me. We hadn’t parted on good terms eight years ago. He has become friendlier to me.” She blushed remembering their night together. “But I thought he was keen on our friend Anna and that’s why he wasn’t around so much now that Anna has a boyfriend.”

“Oh, Claire, I dinna think that's the reason at all. Now, if ye are sure ye want tae move away, or if ye have a new man, that’s fine. I only wanted to let ye know what I think… Did I do wrong?”

“No, Jocasta.” Claire now made no attempt to stop the tears from flowing. “You didn’t do wrong.”

************

Claire’s patience was beginning to wear thin. So far she had rung John’s mobile half a dozen times. Each time it had gone straight to voicemail. She had left three messages (John, it’s Claire, can you give me a call please… John, call me as soon as you get this… John, I need to talk to you urgently) and left similar messages on text, WhatsApp and Messenger. Finally she had bypassed technology and run downstairs to stick a handwritten message on his front door.

Claire knew that Jocasta would have willingly given her Jamie’s phone number, or that she could simply Google a phone number for the Lallybroch stables. But she wanted to know exactly what John had said to Jamie. Plus, she did not think that she wanted to talk to Jamie over the phone.

She wandered into the kitchen, randomly opening cupboards, not quite sure what she was looking for. Finally, she decided to occupy herself while waiting for John by baking scones from a recipe she knew by heart. Indeed, the recipe was one of the first Claire had used when trying to forget her broken heart eight years ago.

The scones were baking in the oven, their comforting smell filling the flat as she heard a knock at the door. Claire rushed to answer it, almost tripping over a pair of discarded shoes in her haste.

John stood in the doorway, his face etched with worry. “Claire, what’s the matter? I came as soon as I got your note. Did you ring me? I’m sorry, my phone needs charging.”

Claire led him into the living room, suddenly feeling slightly foolish and incredibly over dramatic. This wasn’t a matter of life and death. Or maybe it was… the final death of any lingering dream she may have, forcing her into a new life away from Glasgow.

She indicated for John to sit while she perched on the arm of a chair, too tense to relax.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you, John. It’s just something I need to know. Have you mentioned to anybody my plans to move away?”

“No, why? Has the hospital found out? Are they making it awkward for you? It wouldn’t have come from me. I haven’t told anybody… oh…” John stopped.

“Well, something did slip, but there’s no way it could have got back to the hospital. I was chatting to Jamie a couple of weeks ago, and he was joking about the English emigrating to Scotland and accidentally I may… actually I did… mention that there would be one less English immigrant in this city as, chances are, you are moving away for a new job. But that was it, I swear, I’m sorry. Somebody else must have said something to your bosses, it that’s what this is about.”

A kaleidoscope of butterflies started in Claire’s stomach at John’s confirmation that Jamie knew about her plans. “No, that’s fine,” she reassured John. “I know you haven’t told anyone at the hospital.”

Whilst this was the absolute truth, Claire decided not to elaborate on the real reason for her question and to let John think her issue was with the hospital.

John stood up. “If there’s nothing else, and you’re ok, I need to go. I’ve got loads of reading... work stuff to do.”

Claire pulled nervously at her lip with her fingers. “I would like to ask a favour… but you can say no if you want.” She hesitated before making the decision. “Could I borrow your car today, please? I’ll pay the extra insurance and fill up with petrol. There’s just something I need to do, somewhere I need to go. I’ll bring it back late tonight.”

“Hmm, a Friday evening assignation, hey? Sounds intriguing.”

“John, I promise I will tell you all about it tomorrow. So, what do you say?”

John sighed exaggeratedly and smiled. “You’re on, Claire. Call in on your way out for the keys. I’ll ring the insurance and make the arrangements.”

**********

Claire had set the sat-nav with the address for Lallybroch, but, in reality, that was unnecessary. The route up to the Highlands was as familiar as it ever had been. Some sort of muscle memory took over, her brain automatically recognising where to turn, where to brake, where to give way. This left her free to consider her actions.

Claire prided herself on never making rash decisions, always weighing up all options, and considering all outcomes before taking action. There had been one notable exception, of course, when all rational thought had been discarded as quickly and carelessly as her underwear.

But now, as she drove closer and closer to Lallybroch, she wondered what exactly she was doing. She hadn’t weighed up all options, considered all outcomes. What if Jocasta was wrong? What if it wasn’t her he had been avoiding? What if he wasn’t even at Lallybroch? Claire had been so intent on this grand, dramatic gesture, nothing else had been considered. There was no safety net.

Claire turned off the road and drove slowly along the drive. She passed the turning for the stables and offices and decided to go to the house first. Pulling into a parking space in front of the house, she was relieved to see Jamie’s sports car there. No other cars were around.

She clambered out of the mini and stood clutching her Tupperware box of scones, unsure where to go first. The house looked unchanged, the solid grey stone softened by the purple flowering wisteria climbing up the walls. Her feet crunched on the gravel as she moved closer, but... front door or back door… visitor or family?

She started for the front door as, from the side of the house, she heard footsteps. Suddenly, Jamie came round the corner. He didn’t see her at first, being occupied with his phone. He was not dressed for company -- his black jodhpurs and riding boots were splattered with mud, the pocket of his gilet was torn and his polo shirt was faded with age. Claire thought she had never seen him look so handsome.

Jamie looked up and saw her. There was a moment of silence.

Finally, Claire spoke. “Hello, Jamie.”

Jamie gave a small smile. “Hello.”