#merlin was already set up to answer like that ffs

[tiodolma]

Arthur: "What do you think Merlin, should magic have a place in Camelot?

Merlin, who has listened to Arthur make a valid case on how his life and kingdom are always threatened by magic; Merlin, who still keeps seeing sorcerers arrested and burned just for existing inside Camelot; Merlin, who's close friends who are all politically powerful regularly call sorcerers as "fanatics", "heretics", "deranged", "desperate" and "dangerous"; Merlin, who'd been told over and over again that his worries are "merely superstition" and "nonsense"; Merlin, who'd been mocked for having "funny feelings"; Merlin, who has seen Arthur steadfastly uphold his father's policies that All Magic is Evil; Merlin, who have been told repeatedly by major magic institutions that Mordred would murder the King; Merlin who has had first hand experience of prophetic visions always coming true; Merlin, who has chosen Arthur's safety over everything else, even over Merlin's freedom: "There can be no magic in Camelot."

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

Tom Riddle x reader - The bet.

Modernish? Au? one of those -son of Voldemort Tom's that has Mattheo as a brother n stuffs like that-none of thats important to the fic i just wanted to put that up so them having phones makes sense, also they have charmed phones so they work within hogwarts. :p

starts off with texts messages --(two dashes) with italics for (y/n) and -(one dash) and bold for Tom.

=

It was a stupid bet, one that Tom was already regretting even thought it hadn't started yet. it all started with his girlfriend (y/n) being cheeky while she was supposed to be in class and asking for a bloody abs picture from him while he was trying to study.

--hey tommy~?

Tom didn't know why he didn't put on the 'do not disturb' feature on when he was studying, because (y/n) always bugged him when he studied. he picked up his phone that had vibrated when he got a text and saw what his girlfriend texted him, he quickly sent a reply back and then set his phone back down.

-What is it this time (y/n)? -Did you get detention, again? -I'm not getting you out of it this time.

(y/n) replied quickly, which told Tom she wasnt paying attention at all while she was supposed to be in charms class.

--nooo that was one time tommy --okay maybe two times --okay three....five times --whatevs thats not what im texting u for --do you think you could to me a favors? ill return it?

Now Tom was, slightly(emphasis on slightly) intrigued, sighing as he picked his phone back up after reading the texts as they came in and messing (y/n) back.

-What is it (y/n)?

(y/n) replied almost instantly, which made Tom annoyed because merlin's beard she was in class!!

--ab pic? plssss???

-...Are you actually serious?? Did you just text me to ask me for an ab picture?

--yes. pls? ill send something back? pls? pls pls pls? all the other girls get ab pics from their boys? and you've got a baaaady bb~

-No.

--plsss?

-(y/n) I'm busy.

--does that mean 'im busy so ill send one later' orrrrr

-(y/n).

--Tommy.

Tom sighed, setting his phone down, willing himself back to studying, but curiosity had him picking his phone back up and typing a response.

-Why do you even want an ab pic?

--cuz

-That's not an answer (y/n).

--plllllllls tommy? ill send you something back i stg

Tom's interest was once again piqued, his brow raising. she would...send something back?

-And I'm supposed to take your word for that?

-bet

Tom scrambled to catch his phone when another message was sent from his girlfriend, except it wasn't a text, it was a photo. Of her in nothing but his jumper, sitting in front of mirror, the jumper pulled up above her chest to show off her body that got him feeling feral, her face just barely obscured in the photo-but he could see her tantalizing smirk that always had him going nuts.

He quickly got a handle on his phone and texted (y/n) back with a clench in his jaw.

-CHRIST (y/n)!!! -You're in class!!!

--and you, aren't~! --enjoy bb~ now about that ab pic?

He was blushing for sure, his face hot and red and he felt his trousers get tight. He shuffled in his seat, running his hand through his hair. He thought about it for a hot moment before he groaned and stood up, going into his bathroom and turning the light on.

He texted (y/n) one last time before pulling his button-up off and snapping a picture of his upper body. He wasn't really built like Draco or his brother Mattheo was, he wasn't a quidditch player, but he did have defined muscles and (y/n) liked them, so that was fine.

-ffs fine. -photo sent.

-Happy?

--👀👀🥵😍💞🥰👌👌👌👌👌👌

Tom let out a soft snort, leaning against the wall of his bathroom, holding his shirt in his hand as he looked down at (y/n)'s message. Yep, she was happy. he looked back at the photo she had sent him and swallowed, the flush in his face returning as a spark went down his spine, looking at the way her chest was pushed out, her breasts soft and round and such a perfect size for him. her thighs looked bloody gorgeous as well, he wanted to sink his teeth into them again, seeing in the picture some of his previous marks on her skin.

"Fuck," Tom muttered, his head hitting the wall as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, his hand falling to smack against his thigh. This girl was going to be the death of him.

he got another message and if he wasn't already flustered, he sure was now because he pulled his phone up so quick. yeah-(y/n) was going to be the death of him.

--thnk u bb~ i can just imagine ur face rn, all red n flustered~ --🥰😂

Tom huffed, rolling his eyes, throwing his shirt onto the sink counter and messaging his girlfriend back(honestly how he had even gotten one was a mystery to not just him, but to all his little 'friend' group.)

-You're a menace. -Your imagination does too many favors for you.

i mean, she was right-his face was all flushed and he definitely was flustered, plus he had a bloody hard on thanks to that hoodie picture; but did she need to know that? Nope.

--oh LOADS --like imagining what you would sound like whimpering for me --thats always a good daydream for me 😈🥵🤪

Tom flushed again, puffing his cheeks too. Whimper? Him? Never.

-I Don't whimper. Not for anyone. -Not even you.

Tom huffed through his nose, his cheeks flushing still as his own imagination began to wander off. but he was brought back to reality when he got another message from (y/n).

--wanna bet? 😈

Oh Fuck.

"Fuck," Tom muttered under his breath, ignoring the way his fingers twitched for a moment as he thought of a response. She was riling up intentionally, he knew that, she wanted to see what he would do-how he would respond to her challenge.

-Menace.

--scared Riddle?

-Don't do the fucking 'scared potter' thing on me.

--its working isnt it? i know how you tick bb~ ur just scared i'll make u whimper and i'll make you lose control~

-Shut the fuck up.

--oh swearing now are we? you are flustered

He was, his face was red now and his leg was bouncing, somehow even harder imagining (y/n) doing her absolute best to make him whimper.

--so --wanna bet?

Tom took a long deep breath, running his hand through his hand and then down his face. would he regret this? probably.

Fuck it.

-fine. you're on. what do you wanna bet?

he could feel the feral grin through the phone screen.

--i get five minutes to try and make you whimper, i can do whatever i need to do, if you dont whimper-moaning and other shit you usually do is fine im not cruel bb-in those five minutes you cannnnnn, idk, do whatever you want to me?

Now that was enticing.

-What do you get if you do make me whimper? Which wont happen of course.

--you gotta be REALLY vocal next time we do it. i wanna hear allll the sounds you can make, whimpers, moans, grunts, ANYTHING.

Tom flushed, really? All she wanted was for him to be a bit more...vocal during sex? weirdo.

-Weirdo.

--im UR weirdo.

Damn straight. Tom thought about it for a long moment and then groaned. Ffffine. fucking fine.

-Fine. Bet.

--BET!

Tom let out a long sigh, checking the time. it was still another half hour before (y/n) was done with classes for the day, but he suspected she was going to be heading straight to him as soon as she was done-when she was all excited like this-she wouldn't let go of her 'mission' until she got it done.

And this time-her mission was making him whimper. Well, he would make sure she wouldn't hear a single peep out of him this time.

He put his shirt back on and tucked it back into his pants, sighing when he saw he still had a hard on and simply ignored it, going back to his desk and going back to studying-he needed to get this done before (y/n) relentlessly distracted him later.

His timer went off exactly 30 minutes later and he sighed, pushing away from his desk, setting down his quill. Right on the dot-he got a text from (y/n) and he glanced at it with flushed ears.

--omw.

Yep. He knew it. He began mentally preparing himself for whatever sensual onslaught (y/n) had planned for him, crossing his leg over the other as stared at his almost finished essay, before he could think too much on it-the door to his room opened and in stepped in his girlfriend, looking positively giddy.

Oh boy, he was in trouble.

He stared at her as she locked the door behind her and walked right over to him, huffing a bit when she swung her leg over his lap and sat right down, her arms resting over his shoulder as she leaned in close, grinning like a cat that caught her prey.

"Ready to whimper for me baby?" (y/n) cooed and Tom rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms and resting his hand's on her thighs.

"You wont hear a thing," Tom muttered, keeping his voice monotone and his eyes cold, but (y/n) could see the warmth they had for her, and only her. (y/n) grinned and got right to work, cradling his jaw in both hands and pressing her lips to hiss in a passionate and hungry kiss, quickly heating things up as her tongue licked his bottom lip and then pushed into his mouth.

Tom's breath caught in his chest for a split second, his eyes snapping closed as his grip on her thighs tightened, holding back a groan that wanted to escape as (y/n) practically devoured his lips. 'fuck' he thought, this was going to be harder than he thought.

(y/n) kept kissing him in a way that made him breathless and her hips began to grind down against him-making him gasp a bit as he felt her brush against his bulge that had quickly grown the moment (y/n) had stepped into the room. "(y/n)," Tom hissed quietly, his lips, swollen and shiny with spit, parted as (y/n) pulled away and went down to his jaw, nipping and kissing his skin.

She kept moving her hips down into his and he felt his resolve slowly start to crumble as her lips explored his neck, the sensation of her nibbling, biting down, and sucking all over his neck drove him nearly mad. He couldn't help but groan as he tilted his head back, exposing his neck for her.

(y/n) grinned against his neck, licking up the side and trying to find his sweet spot, anything to make him break. "Gonna whimper for me yet?" she asked sweetly, whispering into his ear and kissing the spot behind it.

"Not a chance." Tom said, every word a struggle to get out, his eyes still closed as (y/n) chuckled and went back to his neck, grazing her teeth and tongue against every spot she could-searching for that one spot that would make him break.

"Guess I'll hav'ta try harder then," she whispered, latching onto the slope of his neck where it met his shoulder as one of her hands went between them and Tom let out a choked groan, his face rising with heat as he heard and felt her undoing his belt and pulling his shirt out of his trousers.

"Don't you dare," Tom warned, but if only so he didn't lose this bet. He knew if (y/n) started touching him, his resistance would quickly fall. She was too good at this. (y/n) smirked against his neck and shimmied his trousers and boxers down-Tom's breath caught and his back arched a bit as (y/n)'s soft fingers wrapped around his aching cock, pre-cum leaking from the tip.

His hips jolted up and then back as her hand began to move, up and down the shaft of his cock, the feeling of her hand driving him mad as the sound of it made it harder to focus on not making those sounds (y/n) so desperately wanted to hear.

"(y/n)," he hissed out, his jaw dropping open as he panted, his breath shuddering with each stroke of his cock and graze of her teeth on his neck. He jolted again when she found the sweet spot on his neck and heat grew in his core as her teeth and tongue lavished that spot with attention while her hand stroked him with increasing intensity, making it harder and harder for him to keep his resolve.

(y/n) shuffled just a bit closer on his lap, his cock pressed against her clothed belly and adding more friction as she moved her hips with her hand, his pre-cum smearing against her skin and clothes.

Fuck.

Tom felt his control falter further as he felt (y/n)'s mouth and her hand work together over his neck and cock. His resolve was broken and he was lost in sensation. A single sound came forth before he could stop it, a hoarse whimper leaving his lips.

(y/n) grinned against his skin, kissing his sweet spot before she pulled back just a bit-her hand continuing to go as she rut her stomach against his cock-feeling him dripping helplessly against her hand and clothes, soaking her shirt in his fluids.

"aww baby, you whimpered," (y/n) cooed-and just then-the five minute timer (y/n) had sneakily set up went off-he had just missed the mark-if he had just lasted another few seconds, he would've won. but he had lost-(y/n) made him whimper.

"Sh-shut-" he let out another hoarse whimper, his breath catching as (y/n) pressed his cock against her belly. "Wh-whatever just-fuck-don't-mmfh- don't tell-tell, shit, tell anyone." Tom commanded, his vision blurry when he looked at (y/n), who was grinning like a bloody basilisk.

"Oh don't worry darling, this is for me and me alone." (y/n)purred, kissing him deeply again, her chest pressed against his as her hand practically fucked his cock, giving him just the right grip as more embarrassing sounds pushed forth from his throat, whimpering into (y/n)'s mouth as she kissed him.

He felt the heat in his core start to spread, his breath and heart going rapid as his head started to fog over with unrelenting pleasure. "shit-(y/n)-FUCK-don't stop-don't stop-don't stop-" Tom babbled as his eyes snapped shut, his head going back as well as (y/n) made out with his jaw and neck, leaving more and more marks on his pale skin as her hand kept going, and going, and going, faster and faster, squeezing a bit whenever she got to the tip-pushing more pre-cum from him until-

Tom's muscles tensed, He gripped the plush of (y/n)'s thighs, his teeth clenching as he felt a tingling throughout his body. His eyes remained shut, although he could still see the world around him somehow.

Then, an intense feeling of warmth started at his core and spread out throughout his entire body. His muscles trembled and shook as he felt pleasure like he hadn't felt before.

A deep moan escaped his lips.

Cum soaked (y/n)'s hand and shirt, some arching over and landing on Tom's belly and thighs while (y/n) began to slowly calm down, her eyes locked onto Tom's bright red face as he let out those little sounds she had been so patiently waiting to hear from him.

"Ahhn, hahh-fuckin hell-" Tom groaned, shuddering as his orgasm washed over him. He whimpered a bit when (y/n)'s hand slightly pushed him into 'too much' territory and he shakily grabbed her wrist that was slick with his cum. "Fuck." he sighed, his body slumping in his desk chair as (y/n) sat triumphantly on his lap, giggling away while he caught his breath.

When his vision finally cleared and he caught his breath, he saw his all too proud of herself girlfriend grinning at him, cum soaking her shirt and her hand covered in it as well, his softened cock just inches away from her hand.

"I hate you," Tom grumbled, his eyes fluttering closed when (y/n) laughed and pecked his lips.

"No you don't~ also i knew you'd sound adorable whimpering, wanna do it for me again?"

...

"Yeah,"

-end-

[ladylynse]

Part IV of Down the Rabbit Hole for the lovely @lumanae​, even though they’re currently drowning the Merlin fandom. *grins* Sometimes distractions are needed, right?

Wirt had heard a lot of stories about college, but somehow, he still wasn’t prepared for one of his roommate’s crazy friends to smuggle a hatchet into their dorm room.

(Previous) Also on FF and the AO3.

-|-

Wirt knew Danny wasn’t in the washroom, but he stepped inside and looked in every remotely feasible spot anyway, including the medicine cabinet that sat above the toilet which would be hard pressed to hold a small child.

He just…. He didn’t know what else to do. There wasn’t anywhere else to go. It’s not like Danny could have crawled out the tiny window, and he definitely hadn’t slipped past Wirt and out into the hallway. It was like he’d gotten sucked into the same black hole as most of Wirt’s socks, except obviously that didn’t exist, but—

Wirt pulled out his phone and started to type a message to Jazz, but how could he tell her he’d lost her brother? He certainly couldn’t explain it. He had no idea where Danny was. Or how he’d gotten there, wherever there was.

Wirt half-hoped Danny would text Jazz and Jazz would text him, but he never heard anything, and he couldn’t find the words to say anything about this to Jazz. He’d find Danny first. Then, if Danny hadn’t already told Jazz, he could pretend this had never happened.

He could get a proper explanation from Toby after he figured out what the heck had happened to Danny.

Wirt locked the room behind him and set off at a quick walk, looking around and weaving past anyone he saw without slowing. Danny couldn’t have gone that far. If he had somehow slipped past him—

Maybe this was a prank. Danny liked pranks. And Jazz had as good as warned him not to leave Danny by himself.

Except Danny was gone, disappearing as easily and completely as the ghosts he had apparently grown up surrounded by, and Wirt couldn’t see a sign of him anywhere.

He did, however, find Wendy.

Sitting cross-legged under a tree in the shade.

Apparently doing nothing except enjoying a cup of coffee.

Wirt slowed to a stop in front of her. “Hey,” he said, though he already had her attention since she was looking up at him with a smile. “Have you, um, seen Jazz’s brother anywhere?”

“Danny? Never met him.” Wendy rose to her feet in one smooth movement. Wirt rather envied her gracefulness; he certainly couldn’t do that, at least not in the shape he was in now. “Jazz has a psych exam today, though. You won’t see her till it’s over.”

“No, I…know that. She’s out now, anyway, but still busy.” Probably. Maybe Danny had texted Jazz to get her to text him, and she just hadn’t because she was catching up with some other friends of hers after the exam. She had to have other friends, right? They could have ambushed her right after she’d texted him and Danny. “What about Toby? Have you seen him?”

“Should I have?”

Wirt bit his lip. “I just saw him and Claire.”

“Claire’s visiting?”

So Wendy didn’t know either. Not that that meant much. Claire’s visit might’ve been unexpected. Or maybe Toby had told both of them and they’d been too busy to listen? He could believe that of himself more than so Wendy, who had a surprisingly good memory. At least compared to him, who was hard pressed to remember what he’d had for lunch the day before. Or what day of the week it was. Or what he’d been doing five seconds before, when things got really crazy.

Wirt just nodded. “Yeah. She came to help with costumes for Toby’s play. Do you know when it is?”

Wendy raised her eyebrows. “Since when was Toby in a play?”

“He’s in drama….” Wirt didn’t add isn’t he? but he was pretty sure Wendy knew it was there.

“Uh huh.” Wendy sounded like she didn’t believe it, but what other explanation was there? If it was cosplay, Wirt definitely wasn’t familiar with the source material, and he couldn’t think of what else it could be. No one went around in a getup like that just for the heck of it. And it’s not like Toby would think he needed to lie about making a cosplay for something. He already knew Wirt thought he was weird and didn’t judge him for it. He thought that was funny.

For that matter, so did Wendy and Jazz.

It was one of the reasons Wirt was so convinced they were involved in some giant conspiracy to troll him. Because they’d kill themselves laughing over it. They’d find it hilarious, and they knew he’d be laughing in the end, too. Assuming he got to the end of whatever this was.

And assuming he could find Danny.

Seriously, how he could have lost Danny?

Maybe he was in on all of this, too. Maybe—

“Earth to Wirt,” Wendy said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Did you hear me?”

“Um…no? Sorry.”

“I wanted to know if Toby’s talked to you yet.”

“About what?” It couldn’t be the play if Wendy hadn’t heard of it.

Wendy rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you’re just playing being clueless or you will die if we reach an apocalyptic situation.”

“Uh…pretend I was living under a rock and fill me in?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Wendy muttered. Louder, “Something’s up. You know that, right?”

Was she finally admitting that they were playing a massive prank on him? Good. It had taken long enough. Wirt nodded, and Wendy relaxed. “Great. Then you’ll understand why I’m absolutely certain that Toby’s not actually in drama?”

Or not.

“Uh….”

“Seriously, this isn’t a game. College might not kill you, but there’s stuff out there that will if you’re not careful.”

The hatchet in his dorm room could technically kill him, but Wirt was pretty sure Wendy would just dismiss that if he brought it up. Or nag him about his nonexistent self-defence skills, since he hadn’t signed up for a class despite her not-so-subtle suggestions.

Wirt glanced around, but no one was close enough to overhear their conversation. That was probably Wendy’s plan. He met her eyes again, seeing no trace of a smile behind them. “You’re my friend,” she said, “and I don’t want to lose you.”

She might lose him as a friend if she kept on like this. He could only be expected to put up with so much, right? If she really believed this, maybe she needed to talk to someone. Someone who could actually help her. Which wouldn’t be him. He had zero training in that area. He’d think Jazz would be ideal if she weren’t encouraging this. Whatever this was.

“Okay, look,” Wirt said, trying to get a handle on this situation again, “if you want to be serious for a moment, why don’t you just tell me why you’re so wrapped up in all of this? Why you think I’m wrapped up in all of this?”

Anger and hurt flashed across Wendy’s face before she schooled her expression again, and Wirt knew she felt that was uncalled for. “Because I’m not stupid,” she said, her tone carefully even, “and because this isn’t my first rodeo. And because whatever you want to pretend, that Unknown of yours isn’t just a story. You wouldn’t care about all of this so much if it were, and I don’t need Jazz to tell me that.”

“You’re back on that again?”

Wendy frowned. “Fine. Keep pretending. But you can’t ignore the truth forever, Wirt. You have to know that. And even if you think it’s just to humour me, it’d be nice if you played along and prepared yourself for the day you can’t.” She pulled a small notepad out of her pocket and held it out. “Dipper transcribed some relevant spells. At least take a look at them before you throw it out.”

Wirt knew better than to ask if she was kidding. He pocketed the notepad without looking at it, and Wendy turned away without saying goodbye. He felt like a fool, but what was he supposed to do with that? If she was delusional, telling her the Unknown was real wasn’t going to help matters.

And if she wasn’t delusional….

He didn’t want to think about what it would mean if she wasn’t delusional.

He didn’t want to think that there might be more out there than what he’d faced in the Unknown, that that experience hadn’t been a fluke, that finding out Jazz had grown up hunting ghosts wasn’t going to be the strangest thing he discovered about his friends.

He didn’t want to lose the control he’d have if it turned out the Unknown was only a tiny piece in everything that was unknown.

And now he felt horrible for what he’d done to Wendy.

Sighing, Wirt pulled out his phone and dialled Toby’s number. If he could at least find out more about this play while he looked for Danny, it would prove that the world wasn’t going crazy.

XXXXXX

Toby didn’t answer.

Wirt actually walked into the drama building, poking his head into any room that didn’t have an ongoing class, and found nothing. He even tried looking around education, in case the rehearsals were in that building instead, and he couldn’t find so much as a poster advertising a play—or at least not one that would require fanciful armour.

Danny, of course, never turned up anywhere.

Wirt circled back and checked the food court, thinking Danny had probably found it and bought himself a snack, but no matter how he scanned the shifting crowd of people, he couldn’t convince himself that Danny was there.

Why hadn’t Jazz given him Danny’s number? That would have made finding him so much easier. He should have asked for it, but it hadn’t occurred to him that they’d get separated when he’d been asked to spend time with Danny.

Maybe this was just one of Danny’s practical jokes. Jazz had said he was a joker. Wirt couldn’t really think of any other way to explain his vanishing act.

Although, considering where he had disappeared from, Wirt wasn’t sure even being some kind of magician-in-training would explain Danny’s disappearance. It’s not like he happened to be in the one dorm room that had a secret passage hidden somewhere in the bathroom. There was no trick to it. And he couldn’t imagine how Danny had gotten past him, even though he must have.

Wirt couldn’t remember which building Jazz’s psych class was in, so he couldn’t see if Danny had gone to meet her there. Not that that would help him much, since Danny and Jazz would probably be long gone if they had met up, but he was getting desperate, and Jazz hadn’t texted him to ask why he’d ditched Danny—or whatever story Danny might’ve told her about what happened. He did check his dorm room one more time—in the vain hope that Danny would be hiding in there, maybe sitting on his bed with a big grin on his face, waiting for Wirt to come back and realize Danny had never left—and then went to Jazz’s. He rang the buzzer.

“Yes?”

Wendy. “Um, it’s me.”

“Danny’s not here, Wirt. Neither is Jazz. Do you still want to come up?”

“Uh, no, thanks.” He wasn’t ready to face her yet. He figured he’d read whatever Dipper counted as spells before talking to her again. Granted, knowing Wendy, she’d just do a phenomenal job of pretending the conversation had never happened, and he’d feel like even more of a fool.

“Good luck with the search, then.”

Now he really felt like an idiot. Wirt headed back to campus, not even sure where he should look next.

He walked through the food court again, standing on his tiptoes in the hopes of spying Danny among the shifting crowd of students, and eventually gave up. He checked his watch again, his stomach churning as he realized he’d been running around for over an hour. He should just phone Jazz and tell her to phone Danny and find out where he was. He could swing by and pick him up and then meet her. And then be done with this.

Of course, that would mean admitting he’d managed to lose her brother in the first place.

Hopefully, she’d just chalk this up to Danny’s love of practical jokes.

After more dithering, Wirt finally made the call. Jazz picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Jazz, um, I’m calling instead of texting because this is kinda an emergency? I might’ve, uh, lost your brother, and I don’t—”

She let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about it, Wirt. I’ll text him my location and he’ll find me. He has a bad habit of disappearing sometimes. And if he pulled this on you…. We should really talk. Meet me at the library.”

She hung up without waiting for an answer, not clarifying which library, but that was fine, because Wirt knew exactly which one she meant. And he didn’t plan to blow her off after what he’d done. Should he be flattered her brother felt it appropriate to pull a disappearing act on him? Did he only do it with family friends? She’d sounded exasperated enough that it really couldn’t be uncommon, but….

Jazz was at her favourite table in the library when Wirt arrived, the one off in one corner and half-hidden behind the shelves to the point that was hard to find if you didn’t know it was there. He slid into the chair opposite her, and she frowned at him as her eyes flicked over him. “Do you remember everything that happened? Can you tell me?”

That was…an odd first question. But this was Jazz, and she asked weird questions. And if Wirt tried to figure out why, he’d somehow wind up in a deeper hole than whichever one he was going to dig for himself anyway, so he decided to just go with it. “Yeah? We were in my dorm room. Surprised Toby and Claire— Did you know that she was in town? Or that he’s in a play?”

“My question first, please.”

Wirt blinked. “Um, right. Well, we surprised them, I guess. Toby must’ve cut class because Claire was in town to help him with costuming, and then they went to show everyone else in the group. And then Danny, uh, said he had to use the bathroom, except he didn’t come back out, and when I finally checked it, it was empty.”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Of course it was,” she muttered. “Because that’s not at all suspicious.”

“Um.” She thought it was suspicious, too? What did that mean? “I, uh, never saw him leave, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t sneak by me. I mean. He must’ve. Because he wasn’t in there. And it’s not like he could go anywhere else from the bathroom.”

Jazz just nodded. “Well, I didn’t know Claire was in town, or that Toby was claiming to be in a play, but I suppose I should’ve guessed it earlier.”

“That he’s secretly a drama nut and didn’t want any of us to know?”

“No. That he might be the one I need to worry about more than you.”

Wirt raised his eyebrows. He knew Jazz was a worrywart, but that was ridiculous. “Are you kidding? He’s at least passing Wendy’s weird apocalypse classes with flying colours.”

“Which is what should’ve been my first clue.”

“Clue to what?”

“That he’s involved in something.” The answer came from behind Wirt, and he jumped. He caught a fleeting look of Jazz’s thoroughly unsurprised face as he twisted to look at Danny. How long had he been standing there? “Jazz, uh, we should talk. Not here.”

“It might have to be here, Danny. Wirt’s Toby’s roommate.”

“Uh….” Chances were Danny was right and he didn’t actually need to be here for whatever the impending conversation was going to be. Chances were—

“Yeah, but does he even believe in ghosts?”

—it would just make him feel like the only sane person in the entire world. Which he knew was an exaggeration. It just felt like an appropriate exaggeration.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Wirt burst out. Seriously, was Danny as crazy as Jazz? Okay, he probably was, but still. This obsession with ghosts was weird, even considering their parents studied it. And it’s not like Toby was involved with drugs or something bad. It was just a drama club or something like that. Wirt was planning on going to see the play, whenever it was, once he got the date and time and place out of Toby. To support his roommate.

He was really thinking he shouldn’t ask Jazz to join him. Maybe not even Wendy.

“Shh. Library, remember?” Jazz said as Danny sat down next to Wirt.

“I hate this,” Wirt muttered. He didn’t mean it, but was it too much to ask to have a couple of normal friends? He had a few acquaintances from various classes, but no one he hung out with beyond Toby and Wendy and now Jazz.

…Greg was right. He really needed to get out more. He got stuck in his own little world too often to make friends easily, and he didn’t want to think what it said about him if the only people you were friends with tended to be remotely like-minded. Becoming friends with Toby had been inevitable, and it was through his association with Toby that he’d wound up friends with Wendy and Jazz—almost without realizing it.

Except that Wendy really hadn’t given him a choice in the matter.

And he was pretty sure he still counted it as friendship now even if their first few interactions had seemed more like he’d been coerced into it.

“That’s a no, isn’t it?” Danny asked, looking between Wirt and Jazz. He rolled his eyes and turned back to his sister. “Why do you, of all people, think this is a good idea? You were pretty much skeptic of the year when we were growing up until I, uh, until Phantom started showing up regularly.”

Jazz just crossed her arms and stared at her brother.

Wirt didn’t know what that meant, but obviously Danny did. “C’mon, Jazz. He’s not overshadowed. I checked. I don’t think he’s…involved.”

Involved? In what? And what did Danny mean by overshadowed? How the heck did he check for that, whatever it was? When did he check for that?

“And Toby?”

Jazz should not be treating this like a normal conversation. It was not a normal conversation.

Danny shook his head. “Not a ghost thing. The hammer, the armour, whatever it is. That’s…something else.”

“I’ll have to check with Wendy and see if she knows anything about it,” Jazz murmured. Wirt decided against telling her that Wendy also said she hadn’t known anything about a play. Mostly because he didn’t want her to phone and invite Wendy to this conversation when it would mean explaining everything to Jazz about how he’d acted and she’d psychoanalyze him or something. As if this weren’t bad enough.

“But the girl—Claire, I guess—has a staff. Not like Freakshow’s, so don’t panic, okay?”

Wirt didn’t want to ask. Well, he did, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer, so he thought it best to keep his mouth shut. Why would Danny panic about the prop Claire had been holding for Toby’s play? It was just a prop. And he didn’t even know them.

“I caught her using it. It makes portals, Jazz. Into or through the Ghost Zone. I didn’t follow them because I wasn’t sure I’d make it back and I still can’t do that, but….” Danny shrugged. “I could check with Frostbite and Clockwork. Frostbite might have heard of it. Clockwork would know, but he might not tell me.”

“Check with Dora, too, if Frostbite doesn’t know anything.”

Fine, now Wirt was tempted to ask. “What you mean by portals?” Jazz had told him about the Ghost Zone, but a staff that was capable of making portals to the afterlife or whatever didn’t make sense.

Of course, neither did the fact that an entire town had wound up there.

Wirt really wished that had been a joke newspaper, but—

“Doorways,” Danny said flatly. “Holes in the fabric of reality. Exactly what you’re picturing.”

He shouldn’t have asked.

“Um, why do you think the staff does that, exactly?”

Danny stared at him. “What part of ‘I caught her using it’ did you not understand? I saw it with my own eyes. She’s either skipping into the Ghost Zone whenever she wants—risking Walker’s wrath and whoever else’s—or she’s taking a shortcut through it somehow, like a condensed version of the Infi-Map that she can actually control.”

Okay, he was going to pretend this conversation wasn’t completely insane. “How do you know it’s connected to the Ghost Zone?”

He expected one of them to say something along the lines of ‘what other dimensions do you know?’ or something that would make it very clear that they figured the Ghost Zone was it. Instead, Danny said, “I just know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I can feel it, okay?”

He could—? “That’s even less of an answer!”

“No, it’s not, and keep your voice down. I am not about to be kicked out of my favourite library.” Wirt groaned but held his tongue as Jazz asked, “You’re sure it’s the staff and not something else?”

Danny nodded as if that were the most normal question in the world. “I don’t know how she got her hands on it, but yeah. If I can get some of Mom and Dad’s tech to Tuck, he might even be able to make something that’ll pick up on where she’s been using it. We could figure this out that way.”

Right. So now Danny and Jazz were completely convinced that Toby’s friend Claire was some dimension hopper. Like it was normal for people to jump through dimensions.

This definitely explained why all his friends kept bringing up the Unknown. They really didn’t think it was just a story. But he’d sound like an idiot if he changed his story now, right? He could at least wait until they brought it up again. He didn’t have to volunteer this information right away. Especially not when Jazz’s brother was around—because even if he would clearly believe it, he didn’t need to know everything.

“How did you get past me in the dorm?” Wirt asked.

For once, Danny looked uncomfortable. He rubbed the back of his neck and slouched. “I just sneaked out when you weren’t looking,” he mumbled.

“I was still standing in the hallway when you went into the bathroom,” Wirt said, “and then I went into the room and closed the door and you weren’t….”

“I’m…good at illusions?”

It wasn’t even a good lie.

“I ducked around you when you weren’t looking. I used to do it to Jazz all the time before she left for college. It’s not a big deal.”

Wirt expected Jazz to chime in with support, but she didn’t.

He swallowed and looked at her. “The truth’s gonna sound like a story, isn’t it?”

“A story for another time,” she said by way of agreement.

He would’ve preferred silence. What the heck was really going on here? What was Toby involved in? What was Danny not saying? If the Ghost Zone and the Unknown were somehow connected, and he definitely didn’t know if they were, and if Claire and Toby could access it, why would they need armour? The Unknown might’ve had one room schoolhouses and paddle steamers and stuff, but it wasn’t so far off their own time that anyone required medieval armour.

Not that Wirt actually knew if it was supposed to be medieval armour.

Not that he was completely abandoning the idea that Toby was really in a play, either. Because he certainly could be. That would make so much more sense than all of this. He couldn’t believe he was going along with this. He shouldn’t be. And yet even Wendy had said—

Something’s up. You know that, right? This isn’t a game.

You can’t ignore the truth forever.

“I don’t know if Wendy knows anything about Toby and Claire,” Wirt said slowly, “but she definitely knows something.”

This time, Jazz read something in Danny’s expression that Wirt missed and shook her head. “She’s not overshadowed. I’m confident in that much or I would’ve had you check her out, too.”

Wait.

Wirt pointed at Danny. “Is that why you wanted me to babysit him?”

“You weren’t babysitting,” Jazz said at the same time Danny exclaimed, “I don’t need a babysitter!”

“So you’re not denying that the entire reason you wanted me to hang out with him all day was so he could check me out for whatever this overshadowing thing is?”

“Wirt—”

“What did you even do?”

“Library,” Jazz hissed, and Wirt rolled his eyes.

“Just tell me the truth! Then I’ll be quiet.”

“You want the truth?” Danny asked. “When you aren’t even telling them the truth?”

“Seriously? Is there anyone you haven’t told about that stupid assignment?”

Jazz narrowed her eyes. “Yet you’re the one who keeps mentioning it, Wirt. Not me.”

Right. He’d walked into that, hadn’t he? Fine. “You want to pretend it’s not just an assignment? Then let’s pretend it’s not just assignment. Let’s pretend it’s real. I went to the Unknown with my brother. It’s another dimension. I faced demons and made friends and nearly died trying to get home. Your turn.”

Jazz’s expression didn’t change. Danny looked around, maybe to see if anyone was looking their way after his earlier outburst. Jazz’s favourite little nook was fairly secluded, but there were tables nearby, equally as hidden, and the seclusion was more artificial than anything else. Still, apparently they hadn’t disturbed anyone, since Danny was grinning when he faced Wirt again. “I’m the tragic victim of a lab accident,” he said. “Safety wasn’t exactly our parents’ highest priority, but like I said, it was an accident.”

Wirt raised his eyebrows. “So?”

“So that’s how I got past you earlier. And that’s how come I know you’re not overshadowed. And that Claire’s staff has ties to the Ghost Zone.”

Wirt glanced at Jazz, but her face betrayed nothing. Danny was a lot easier to read. He was having fun with this. There was a definite note of sarcasm in his tone. But he also looked perfectly sincere, even though Wirt had no idea how a lab accident was supposed to explain all that. “So you, what, burned yourself on a Bunsen burner? Accidentally smashed a couple of test tubes of chemicals and stepped on the glass? And that made you the annoying prankster you clearly are?” He could think of several more choice words to call Jazz’s brother, but it was safer to stick with Jazz’s words. If Toby really was wrapped up in something, Wirt didn’t intend to burn all his bridges before he could help his friend.

Jazz snorted.

Danny’s grin widened. “Not exactly,” he said.

And then he disappeared.

He just…disappeared.

Wirt was staring at him, and then he was just gone. He didn’t move. There was no distraction to catch Wirt’s attention while he ducked under the table or hid somewhere in the stacks. He was just there. And then he wasn’t. And this was a bloody library; it didn’t have mirrors or whatever else would’ve been needed to make an illusion. And Danny had pulled out the chair to sit down, so it wasn’t some kind of high-tech hologram, and—

“I’ll call Wendy,” Jazz said, “and warn her that we’re going to reconvene at our place. You can think of exactly what you’re going to say as we walk over.”

-|-

(see more fics | next)

[hayleysstark]

*Queenie faints dramatically on a couch* An anniversary whump fic, just for me? Be still my heart! You are so kind, Emerys, thank you! Since this is a birthday gift, why not make that the theme? For example, Merlin is so busy that he actually forgets his own birthday. However, Gwen and Gaius convince Arthur and the knights to throw him a surprise party! Or, for something angstier, Merlin visits Freya's lake and sends her flowers on the anniversary she died. Take your pick!

I wish you would write a fic where… Send me an anymous (or not) summary of the fic you wish I would write. (maybe I will write a tidbit)

Don’t be silly, Queenie, only the best for my friends!!! <3 Feel free to slide into my inbox come December and get a Christmas fic, too, if you like! I don’t start writing holiday-themed things until December though lmao so if the idea appeals to you, just think about what you want! 

Anyways, I went with the first option here because I didn’t feel Physically Strong Enough to handle the second lmao and I didn’t have time to do both!! Work got crazy again ffs. anyways. I hope you like it!!

Reminder to all: please don’t send in any more prompts!!

Merlin has decided that absolutely everybody in the entire castle is enchanted out of their minds, again, and he’s the only one with so much as an ounce of sanity left to his name, again, and it’s all rather typical, really, when he stops to think about it, because now, of course, he’s got to go and find the source of it all, and the sorcerer who cast the evil spell to start with, on his own, by himself, with no one to help, as usual, and also, he’d bet his favorite red scarf the royal prat’s already gone and got himself knocked out, sprawled out somewhere like a helpless maiden, just waiting for Merlin to come along and save the day so he can miraculously come ’round right at the end when all the danger is over, and he’ll puff out his chest and swing his sword ’round and gripe and grumble about how he had to do everything without so much as a shred of help and he’s the only one in all of Albion who even stood so much as a chance with the evil sorcerer, and he has to carry the whole of the kingdom on his shoulders every single day, and of course, Merlin, you’re far too much of an idiot to ever understand what that’s like—

Maybe Merlin’s a touch too cynical about all this.

It’s just that’s everybody’s acting so odd lately! Everybody’s so happy, everybody’s smiling so much more than usual lately, especially around him! It’s almost as if everybody knows something he doesn’t, or maybe there’s this great and big and important secret he can’t be in on, he’s not allowed to be in on, this special, mysterious thing he can’t know about, he’s not allowed to know about, and everybody is in on the secret except him, everybody knows about this special, mysterious thing except him, and also, everybody’s trying really hard to act like there isn’t even any secret at all, and absolutely no one is doing an even halfway decent job of it.

For God’s sake, Gaius absolutely beamed at him this morning, and Gaius never looks so happy with him unless he’s just cleaned the leech tank, or restocked the astilbe, or something like that, and also, Gaius seemed very convinced that Merlin had every reason to start beaming back. And he let Merlin have honey on his bread for breakfast that morning, and Gaius never lets Merlin have honey on his bread for breakfast, or—well, ever, really.

And then, at noon, Gwen slipped him one of his favorite sweet rolls from the castle kitchens—it was actually rather nice of her, and Merlin would have been quite happy with it, except Gwen never nicks food from the kitchens, for herself or anybody, and gets uncharacteristically stern with Merlin whenever she catches him at it, and insists he’s “setting a bad example” for the younger servants, and “the cook worked very hard on those dumplings, Merlin!”

And it only got stranger after that, when Percival helped him polish Arthur’s boots barely an hour later, for absolutely no reason at all, and also, when Gwaine passed Merlin in the corridor a few minutes after all that, he winked, and said something about mead, and when Arthur ordered Merlin off to the stables, Leon even said, “Sire, do you really need Merlin to muck out the horses today?” with a very pointed look and overexaggerated emphasis, like today is something really special and important—

Oh. Maybe it is.

That might explain it, that might be what Merlin’s missing, that might be what’s got the world turned on its head today—if it’s something like Yule, or Samhain, or Beltane, or a solstice or an equinox or—well, no, that can’t be right, can it, not now that Merlin stops to really think about things. With no celebrations, no feasts, no time off for any of the servants, not even a special speech from Arthur atop the castle balcony, what sort of holiday is this supposed to be?

No, today can’t be terribly important after all.

So, an enchantment that makes everybody happy and really, really nice for no reason, Merlin repeats to himself, over and over again, except no matter which way he turns it in his mind, it still sounds absolutely ridiculous, and there’s not even so much as a passing mention of any such thing in his spell book. Magic that makes everybody happy? What sort of lousy evil enchantment is that?

Maybe it’s a trick, maybe it’s meant to lure him in, to trap him, to kill him with kindness in a very literal sense of the term—or maybe he’s just a complete idiot who can’t figure it out, as usual—

Merlin scrubs a hand across his tired eyes and flips, reluctantly, to the next page in his spell book. Perhaps he’s missed something. He’s never actually read it all cover to cover, never had the time, so maybe there’s just something he’s overlooked, something he just isn’t seeing, something small enough, it’s slipped beneath his notice—

The door crashes open, slams back into the wall behind with a sound like thunder, and Arthur Pendragon comes strolling inside like he owns the place and also, like privacy and personal space and closed doors aren’t things he should maybe consider.

“Arthur!” Merlin slams the spell book shut, and shoves it under his crumpled nightshirt, still strewn on the floor. “What are you—what are—?”

“Well, you’re abysmally late with my dinner for a start,” Arthur says, imperiously—oh, that’s another thing, actually, Merlin thinks Arthur might not be enchanted, because if all the secret-smiley-special be-nice-to-Merlin magic missed anyone, it most definitely missed Arthur. He’s been even more of an insufferable prat than normal all day. Still. At least he doesn’t give the spell book a second look. Typical. Too wrapped up in himself to even notice sorcery right under his nose.

“Sorry, Sire,” Merlin says, reflexively, and gets to his feet again. He shoves the book a little farther under the dirty shirt with the toe of his boot. “I’m coming.” He doesn’t have much choice but to follow Arthur out the door. He’ll have to come back later tonight, and see what he can find about this mysterious enchantment then.

“And my armor could use a polish, while you’re at it,” Arthur adds, like an afterthought. “And I’d like a bath as well.”

“Right,” Merlin says. He has no choice but to hurry through the dinner and the bath, but if he takes Arthur’s armor back here, and uses a little touch of magic here and there to speed things up a bit, he’ll still have time search up this strange spell again before Gaius gets back from poor Lady Winthrop—

Arthur lets himself into his cavernous, candlelit chambers, and Merlin follows, right on his heels, half in his shadow, and—

—and stops.

“Your dinner’s already on the table,” Merlin says, stupidly. It’s about ten different kinds of ridiculous, but it’s the first thing he can think of, the first thing that pops out of his mouth, because it’s not just Arthur’s dinner that’s already in the room, it’s—well, it’s everybody, Gwen and Gaius and Leon and Percival and Gwaine and Elyan, and it’s not so much as Arthur’s dinner as a royal feast spread out atop the table.

“Well spotted, Merlin,” Arthur says.

“What—what’s going on?” Merlin looks between Arthur and the others gathered ’round the food—there’s barely enough room for everybody, and Percival’s scrunched up a little to make room for Gwaine, and Leon and Elyan keep brushing knees under the table on accident, but everybody looks so happy.

From the enchantment, probably. Another little stab of fear jabs at Merlin at the thought. He really, really needs to get back and break the spell before all this can go even farther than it already has.

“Merlin,” Gaius speaks up from his seat at the table, and his infamous eyebrow starts to rise, “what do you think?”

Merlin takes a small step back. “I think you lot are enchanted.”

Gwaine laughs out loud at that. “Come on, Merls, have a sit-down!” He gestures excitedly to the empty chair at his side.

“I-I have to draw Arthur his bath,” Merlin says—he sounds like an idiot, but it’s true, isn’t it, that’s why Arthur dragged him here, right? For his—for a—?

“Merlin, you idiot,” Arthur comes up behind him and claps a hand down on his shoulder, “do we really need to spell everything out for you?”

“Um,” Merlin says. “…No?”

“Don’t be so hard on him, Arthur,” Gwen chides, and gets up from the table to come to Merlin, “look at him, he’s exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” Merlin says, but nobody pays so much as an ounce of attention to him.

“Yeah,” Gwaine throws in, “you worked him like a hound today, Princess.”

“Right, well, next time, I’ll let him laze around all day, and you’ll see, he’ll walk in while we’re still—”

“What’s going on?” Merlin takes another step back. He still hasn’t quite ruled out an evil enchantment.

“Merlin,” Gwen takes his fingers in her soft, warm hand, and smiles wide, “don’t you know what day it is?”

Oh. Finally, a question Merlin can actually answer. He nods. “Friday.”

Gwen looks, for a moment, as if she’s going to laugh at him. She bites down on her bottom lip instead. “Isn’t there something pretty special about this Friday?” She raises her eyebrows.

Oh, so there is something important about today, then? No enchantment? Oh, thank God.

“I—uh—” Merlin has to think about it. “Well, it’s definitely not Yule.”

Arthur laughs out loud. “Come on, Merlin, even you can’t be that much of an idiot.”

Definitely might have been a bit of a strong word. There’s snow on the ground outside, after all, even if there aren’t any logs or trees or fruitcake. “Is it Yule?”

Arthur stops dead and Gwen’s smile drops clean off her face and everybody at the table turns ’round to stare at Merlin, and he has a horrible feeling he just said something very stupid or very bad, or maybe both.

“S-sorry,” he says, uncertainly, “only I really don’t know what this is all about.”

“Merlin,” Gaius is the first to recover, as usual, “today is your anniversary.”

“No,” Merlin says, at once, “no, my anniversary’s not—not until winter--”

Oh.

Oh, God.

Gaius is right.

Arthur starts to laugh again, and this time, he doesn’t stop.

Merlin’s ears begin to burn. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately!”

At least Gwen’s got the decency to put a hand to her mouth to hide her smile, and Leon tries, gallantly, to pass a snicker off as a cough, but Gwaine and Percival have no such qualms, and guffaw outright. Even Gaius lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Shall we write ‘Yule’ on the back of your hand when it’s that time of year, then?” Arthur says, when he can finally speak again, and it’s still a little warped from the laughter. “Samhain, too?”

“Sorry my anniversary doesn’t come with an enormous feast and party every year,” Merlin says. “It gets rather hard to recall when you’re—”

“Oi,” Gwaine sits up, “what do you call all this, then?” He gestures at the food splayed out on the table.

Merlin stares at all the dishes for a second—it’s not the sort of thing the cook roasts up for a royal feast or anything, but there’s chicken and potatoes and strawberries and a whole cake right in the center of it all, and it’s more food than he’s ever seen in the entire village of Ealdor.

“Wait, this is—” Merlin turns to look at Arthur, “—this is for me?”

“No, it’s for the other idiot servant who trips over his own boots and can’t hold a sword properly.” Arthur rolls his eyes.

“Arthur!” Gwen scolds. “It’s his anniversary!”

At least Merlin knows why everybody’s been so nice to him all day.

“He’s not any kinder to me on my anniversary,” Arthur points out.

“If I was kind to you, your head wouldn’t fit through the door,” Merlin says. “I’m doing you a favor, Sire.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

[merlinthoughts]

Season 1 Episode 2 - Valiant

- ik for a fact that this one is the episode with the asshhoole. not bc i recognised it from the title but perhaps it was because i recognised it from the title u got me there

- i always go to mr clean too when i want protection, val, ur not alone

- yeah, this is harry potter l ma o

- the next thing u know theres a stone that makes arthur live forever and the snakes start joining into one and growing bigger until a phoenix (im dibbing on kilgie here), pops their corneas out

- DAMN DON'T KILL UR DEALER WHERE U GONNA GET THE NEW SHIT FROM NEXT TIME SMH VALIANT

- okay but who names their son valiant

- he was probably named valerie and didnt like it so he said “woah imma be valiant like courage, thats sick”

- that was probably his superhero persona as a child ngl

- no, shev, no respect for val stop doing this

- merlin in armour, what a fucking bLESiSNG GIVING ME THIS RIGHT ON THE SPOT BBC KNOWS WHATS GOOD

- ok a y but hear me out, merlins a servant. i have not seen any of these servants been asked to train with the royals??? like in the sense where it helps the servant train as well?? and the FIRST thing arthur does with merlin as his servant is train with him. not only is arthur a huge JOCK, he’s not using his manservant properly

- neverfuckingmind “most servants collapse after the first blow”, so it seems to be arthur likes to train with his servants. now that in itself is a question to be asked, but is he the only royal who trains with his servants??? how did this man survive on his own without a personal servant until merlin??? did he have a personal servant??? was it just regular servants?? who are those other servants he trained with??? did arthur just say hey lets go to the field in the morning, put on armour and let’s have a fun time?? UNLESS merlin literally just took someones job away from them kmao

- also my mind went right to the gutter guys, ngl, it sounded like an innuendo. it had me quaking i wish i was one of those servants

- “we all have our duties, even arthur” “it must be so tough for him, all the *hesitates* girl, all the glory”

- so we probably get at least 1 out of every 2 episodes where there’s a scene with merlin dressing arthur in his armour. bring the popcorn, lads.

- MORGANA LOOKING LIKE A FRICKEN SNACK

- the reigning champion is arthur, wonder fucking w h y

- valiant is in fucking mustard, while arthur is fucking ketchup idk why i thought of that but it happened. my literature teacher always told me to look for symbolisms. guess we found one guys.

- merlin after hating on arthur for the past episode is literally just cheering arthur on like a good husband he is

- did ARTHUR JUST SNICKER AT MERLINS “CREEP” LMAO DON'T TRY AND HIDE IT BY HUFFING AT HIM AFTERWARDS YOU FUCKING GOOF

- omg he hid it by telling merlin to do a full novel of chores

- AND MERLIN DOES IT WITH MAGIC A PAIR OF GOOFS

-  “are you using magic again” “no” merlin ffs he just saw you use magic, while the items fell and landed right in front of him while you didn’t move at aLL. they are nOT BLIND

- “very aggressive style” I MEAN SURE UTHER

- valerie be fuckboying morgana lmao with a “i saw you watching” and a, “then i will give everything to win the tournament”

- i wish this show was set in the early 2000s so i can see val in low sweatpants, a backwards cap with gelled spiky hair and cheap neon sunglasses (maybe even some gold teeth just for kicks), while hes trying to rap 50 cents or make a mixtape of brit pop songs. bc yes.

- honestly im loving my 2000 fuckboy au. gonna make an ao3 after this.

- of course merlin would be the one to find out the magic shit in valiants room, it just lures him. AND OF COURSE VALIANT IS THERE

- i'm so fucking glad arthur looks confused as to how merlin did what he asked. when u have this kind of hubby, arthur, its amazing what things he can do.

- i dont know why theres dramatic music as merlin put armour on arthur but im living for it

- “is it my imagination or are you beginning to enjoy yourself?” merlin doesn't know what to say to that bc he’s turning gay and doesn't know if that counts as enjoying oneself when the one you are gay for is the asshole prince

- typically enough, valiant and arthur never fight except for the finale. like with all conveniences in place, youd expect them to have at least fought at some point with as much knights as there to determine the final two but no, just the finale. k.

- this poor fucking purple knighted bloke didn’t need to be fucking demonstrated on, val. like you didn't need to kill him?? that could have blown ur cover

- DID NOBODY SEE THAT??? DID NOBODY SEE THE FUCKING SNAKES???

- oooh merlin found out what happened everyone gonna be fucked. nobody harms arthur is he has something to say about it

- if someone starts off a sentence with “i just saw someones snakes on their shield come alive” nobody would fucking believe you, merls. but given the fact that magic exist… mhh maybe it wouldn’t be too absurd. but ppl apparently are thick as hell

- “why were you in his chambers” well i know how id explain if i was in valiants chambers ;)

- jk i dont fall for this toxic shit

- imagine getting paid as an actor just just lie down there like this poisoned kid. “yeah, id like to audition for ewan’s role???” “why are you lying on the ground?”

- i hate those tropes where it's like “i know how to tell someones bad, here’s proof” and then nobody believes you and tells you you’re lying and should die or whatever but then you kNOW IT'S THE FUCKIN TRUTH BITCH that trope gives me damn anxiety >:((

- yes merlin, fucking slash the shield with your sword. i'm sure that's how it works. im sure it will kill the snakes.

- HOWA RE THE SNAKES ALIVE WITHOUT VAL SAYING “ISHNAHASHAHI”

- i think val would know that you cut off the snake’s head, merls, just saying. ur were the oNLY ONE.

- TELL ARTHUR WHAT??? “I CUT A SNAKE”

- EXACLTY ONG THAT'S WHAT MERLIN FUCKING SAID I WAS RIGHT LMAO

- ARTHUR BELEIVED HIM I'M FUCKING LIVING BUT IK WHAT HAPPENS AND AHH

- uhhh the anxiety is rolling up boys

- ewan is mcfuckingdead

- snake be sliding in like a hoe on a business

- bfehfjdjfskf i hate this part

- arthur's pride, merlin’s pride, fuck me

- i'm not even gonna write this part, it breaks my fragile heart when arthur sees the look of people not believing him, especially his dad, and merlin seeing how arthur doesn't trust him anymore like prepare the eulogies girlies

- okay but if arthur is struck and gaius has the antidote?? arthur aint gonna die technically

- but now val knows merlin knows

- AND MERLIN INTERVENES

- why are royals so bitchy towards servants. like they do their best to help you??? they are loyal to you and are paid there to serve you and are often very kind, generous, passive, understanding people??? yet merlin interrupts uther and he fucking sends him to the pit

- VAL YOU ASS LMAO DON'T HURT MY SON’S PRIDE

- he said allegations like four times, yes uther we know ur vocab is shining with intellect but seriously, there’s other synonyms that could still be acceptable and still sound fancy

- quick search on google bc my mind doesnt roll fast enough: claim, assertion, charge, accusation, declaration, statement, contention, deposition, argument, affirmation. see daddy uther, not hard to look up.

- forget they didnt have internet whoopsies

- :((( arthur doesn't trust merlin anymore

- the husbands FIGHT

- not just a banter petty fight, this is a huge fight

- SACKING MERLIN DON'T FUCKING SACK MERLIN YOU GOOF

- TRUST UR HUBBY

- FUCK

- I'M GONNA CRY AND IT'S ONLY EPISODE TWO

- I'M HAVING EMOTIONAL PROBLEMS CONCERNING MY TWO BOYS

- GUYS IM NOT OKAy

- its been 2 minutes after i wrote that last sentence, and i am now okay

- “a half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole” iconic as hell. so many things could be said about that quote. either for innuendo purposes, love purposes, destiny purposes, how long it took me to say it right, just so many purposes man. it’s just iconic.

- merlin looks absolutely done with kilgaharama’s shit

- “just give me a straight answer” seems like kilgarass here is being too gay for merlin

- gwen already knows merlin’s the heroin of the series, saying everyone knows it's merlin who will save the day. but same tbh

- i dunno if this is like me or not but it says her nickname is gwyn in the subtitles but im typing it as gwen which i thought was how u wrote it, even if her full name is gwynevere but like gwen has a ring to it while gwyn sounds like gwin or smth and i dunno which one is right so ill just leave it alone ahjsjfk

- MORGANA HAS VISIONS WE ALREADY KNOW WHERE THIS GOES SHES MAGIC ISNT SHE HAHAHAHAUHD

- merlin trying one last time to convince his husband not to die, but at least this time arthur knows he’s up for val’s magic and is like “k iloveyou but i have to do this for the country not just bc of pride and thinking val is not magic”

- staring into the fire like he’s hoping it would suck him up into the void, not only is merlin a now confirmed emo, so is fucking arthur it seems. perfect for one another i'm telling you

- eerie music as morgana enters… wha suddenly i can't read

- i thought at first morgana and arthur were gonna end up together cause of the fucking weird tension going on and i was prepared to be disfuckinggusted but no! the show and producers actually put my expectations away and helped me see that it wasn’t going in that direction! thank fucking god! 

- k but arthur looks majestic in his gear im just a huge bi

- “don’t go into my room” he says then gaius peaks in and almost gets mauled by a large chihuahua

- me too val, id step on someone's toes then fuck them up with an undercut. thats the bad bitch way to go. unless it for arthur, then val hahaha you can go fuck yourself

- no one sees mErLin??

- but they now see the snakes smh fakes

- “what are you doing? i didn't summon you” i don't think that will work val cause you didn't say it with a serpent tongue, it has to sound more like “shhashhwhat ahhssare hiisssyou iisshhaadoing?”

- okay but i thought arthur was impaled for a half second until he started to talk then i screamed that he was aight and he would now believe merlin

- uther better give merlin an apology

- arthur just said he wouldnt

- but still uther BETTER APOLOGISE TO FUCKING MERLIN

- “yknow i wish valiant was escorting me” “me too” i thought for a fricken moment arthur wished valiant would have escorted HIM. i'm dying.OMG

- “i wanted to say i made a mistake. it was unfair to sack you.” “don’t worry about it. buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.” DID YOU JUST SAY WHAT I THINK YOU JUST SAID MERLIN YOU SLY DOG OMG

- “i can’t really be seen to be buying drinks for my servant.” so if he wasn’t ur servant?? you’d say yes?? they are so fucking gay i can't anymore

- yeah, i literally fucking can't

[moonshoesweasley-blog]

Quiet

I’ve always liked to write, and writing FF has been something I’ve done off and on for many years. Joining tumblr and reading all these incredible works of fan fiction has inspired me to jump back in there, so I hope you enjoy my first story in a while!

Summary: Ron Weasley sometimes likes the quiet. Hermione Granger likes to talk.  He figures out the best way to get the quiet he craves.

FF.net link here

Rating: MA

Word count: 2610

Ron Weasley likes the quiet.  Growing up in The Burrow meant that he didn’t get it often, and he’d hoped that he’d finally get some peace once he went off to Hogwarts.  Of course, when one of your best friends is Harry Potter, moments of peace and quiet are pretty hard to find.

And when your other best friend-come-girlfriend is Hermione Granger, you can bet that any moments of peace and quiet you manage to find will be filled to the brim with talking. And Ron loves that, because he loves Hermione. He loves the sound of her voice; how clipped it can get when she’s frustrated about work, how bright it sounds when she’s excited about something, how soft and lazy it sounds when she is waking up next to him in the morning.

But sometimes, he just wants an evening of quiet. He wants to come home from a day at the shop (almost as exhausting as his two years as an Auror, to be quite honest) and kick back in the sitting room for a few minutes. He wants to listen to the Cannons on the wireless without missing a play because he’s answering Hermione’s questions.  He wants to relax and read Seeker Weekly in companionable silence while Hermione reads one of her massive books, but he instead has to put his magazine down every few minutes because she has said “Ron, listen to this…”

He reckons that she’s always been a talker because she’s an only child.  He also knows (because she told him, once, in a rare moment of vulnerability) that she has always struggled with feeling insecure, so she tries to fill silent moments with words in an attempt to prove herself.  He tries telling her (again) that she’s amazing and wonderful and a genius and bloody brilliant, be he knows that old habits die hard. He can relate; he can quickly lose his temper and still sometimes finds himself being jealous of his brothers…or worse, Harry.

So he tries very hard to be understanding and patient and let Hermione talk. She needs it, and he gets that.  It’ll be something they continue to work on as they grow together, and he’s okay with it.  Really.  Honestly.

Just, on this one particular night, he just really wants quiet.

It’s been a long day at the shop. It’s the end of summer so Diagon Alley has been packed with back to school shoppers.  That, of course, means that it took about half an hour before Ron wanted to rip the chime above the door straight off the wall and chuck it in the bin.  He was glad the shop was doing so well but he was pretty certain that he didn’t get a break all day. When he steps through the Floo, all he wants is to collapse on the sofa. Maybe he’ll summon a Butterbeer or two before reheating some of the (many) leftovers his mother sent them home with after their last dinner at The Burrow.

“Ron, you will never believe what’s happened today. My proposal to adjust the parameters of Traces on students got rejected, and quite honestly, it just is baffling.  I know my position at the DMLE is fairly junior, but the idea is valid and deserves at least a consideration! How do they expect students to do any summer assignments now that they’ve increased the course load at Hogwarts? Honestly!”

Hermione is in the kitchen, slamming cabinet doors and setting the dishes in the sink to washing themselves with a flick of her wand.  Ron drags a hand down his face and takes a steadying breath before walking in to greet her with a kiss brushed across her forehead and a slight squeeze. She acknowledges him by briefly relaxing into his embrace before she’s off again, now setting the clean dishes to drying themselves and zapping the oven to temperature.

Ron watches her as she moves about the kitchen, ranting and raving. She’s bound to do great things, he knows it, if only the prats in her department would listen. He’d thought that her role in the war would earn her some leniency, but apparently all that means is that she has to work harder to prove herself.  Really, he thinks she probably prefers it that way, but he knows it plays into her insecurity.  She’s probably worried that she’s not cut out for ministry work, which is ridiculous.  He thinks she could be Minister of Magic if she really wanted (and he thinks she probably does.)

But, Merlin help him, he just can’t do it tonight. He’s talked and listened and listened and talked so much already today, and he swears he’ll listen to every word she has to say tomorrow. But tonight, he thinks his brain might explode if he has to have one more conversation.

She’s got her back to him, unwrapping a casserole his mother sent home with them. When he slides his hands onto her waist and presses her body against the countertop, she falters a bit but quickly recovers.  She’s still talking (but a little bit slower and softer) as he leans down and nuzzles the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her shampoo in the curls that have fallen from the twist she’s put her hair in.

“Ron, I’m trying to get dinner ready,” she breathes. He doesn’t say anything but instead braces his hands on either side of body and against the countertop. His lips brush against her pulse and ghost up the side of her neck, to just in front of her ear. He knows she likes it when he kisses her there; he knows she likes the sound of his lips against her skin. She sighs and he feels her relax against him. “What’s gotten into you all of sudden?”

“No talking,” he whispers, lips still against her ear.  She shudders and he smiles, dropping another kiss before reaching up to unwind her hair. He loves her hair. He’s always loved her hair. She’s figured out how to tame it for work, but by the end of the day it usually has started to frizz and wave and generally go mad with curls. He loves it like this the best (actually it’s probably a close second to what it looks like after she’s been thoroughly…satisfied) and he grabs a handful of it and inhales the scent of it.

Hermione giggles. “Ron, let’s have dinner first. I know you must be hungry.  Tell me about your day,” she says.

“Later.  Don’t want to talk right now.  Want to do this.” He uses the hand in her hair to push it off her shoulder, bringing the other one up to pull down the collar of her jumper. The strap of her camisole and bra come with and he leans down to press a kiss against the exposed skin.

“Ron, you’ll stretch it out,” she admonishes, but he gets the feeling she doesn’t care very much. She’s started to push against him, her rounded bottom pressing against his rapidly hardening length. He knows she can feel every inch of him through the thin fabric of her work skirt. He smirks against her skin and softly bites her shoulder before pressing back against her.  She gasps and he chuckles. His hands circle her waist and he feels her skin beneath his fingertips, where his fingers have slipped under the fabric of her jumper.

“Take it off if you don’t want it stretched out. Here, lemme help you.” He slides his hands up her sides and her arms follow suit, stretching above her head so he can pull off her jumper and camisole. He tosses it somewhere behind him, not particularly caring if it lands in the sink or in the bin or wherever else. His hands come back to rest on her waist, all smooth skin and soft curves. She smiles at him over her shoulder and he takes that as a sign to continue.  

He pulls away slightly so he can reach for the clasp of her bra, but stops short when he realizes that there is no clasp.  She giggles again and tells him, “this one has the clasp in the front.  I don’t think you’ve seen it yet, it’s fairly new.”

What in the world will you barmy women think of next, he thinks. He reaches around to figure out this front clasp and makes surprisingly short work of it, sliding it down her shoulders and flinging it the same direction as her jumper and camisole. As her breasts come free and he cradles them in his palms, he decides that front clap brassieres are his new favorite thing. He hefts their weight in his hands and brushes his thumbs across each nipple, delighting in the way she moans. Her head falls back against his shoulder and she arches her back, that perfect round arse of hers pushing directly against his erection.

“Ron…that feels so good,” she sighs. He likes it when she says things like that; likes it when she strokes his ego. But tonight?

“No more talking,” he whispers.

His hands move back to her waist and he spins her around, claiming her mouth before she can protest.  It’s not one of the soft and slow and gentle kisses they share so often.  This kiss is hard and fast and messy, a clash of lips and tongues that sets Ron even more aflame. He pulls away only long enough to strip off his own shirt, then presses himself so they are skin to skin. Hermione groans and her head falls back, and he takes the opportunity to plant kisses along her collarbone. Her hands roam across his back and up to his neck.  She presses his head against her chest and he knows what that means, so he lowers his head to capture a pert pink nipple in his mouth.  “Yes, Ron,” she breathes, and he teases her nipple with his teeth as a reminder.

“Shhh,” he shushes. He puts a finger against her lips and she surprises the hell out of him by opening her mouth and pulling his finger in with her tongue.  She sucks against it and he feels his knees buckle. She really is turning out to be a little scarlet woman, he thinks. Lucky me.

He pulls her finger from her mouth and swirls it around a nipple. She moans and he leans down to replace his finger with his mouth. His hands move down to grip underneath her thighs and he pulls her legs up so that she’s sitting on the edge of the countertop. Her legs wrap around his waist and he’s thankful that he’s as tall as he is, because he can nestle himself directly between her parted thighs.  Her skirt has ridden up and he knows she can feel his erection; the heat and length and hardness of it pressed right against her-

“Bloody stockings,” he growls. She giggles and his hands become busy at the waistband of her skirt, fumbling to find the zipper so he can get it and the damned stockings off. She helps him by bracing herself on the counter and raising her hips, and suddenly the offending garments (knickers included) are sliding off of smooth skin.  They reach a barrier at her shoes, but she kicks them off and her legs are free.  Finally, he thinks, and he reaches back to grip her bottom and pull her towards him, their centers finally connecting.

Except now his pants are in the way and Hermione feels the same, judging by the way her hands somewhat frantically move to his belt buckle. Together they get the belt unbuckled and soon his pants are pooled around his ankles and he probably looks ridiculous, but frankly he can’t be bothered by it.  Hermione shifts on the counter and grinds against his naked cock and he groans. She grabs him by the waist and pulls his body as close as possible and they kiss again, somewhat desperately. This whole thing started as an exercise to get her quiet, but now he is overwhelmed with the need he feels for her.  She does that to him, gets under his skin and drives him insane and reduces him into a puddle of want and need and lust and love and just everything.

He reaches down with one hand to grip his shaft and guide himself into her.  She is ready and wet and wanting, and they both groan as he slides inside. She starts to say something, but he leans forward and captures whatever words she was going to say with his mouth. He can almost taste them on his tongue, almost, and he slowly slides his tongue throughout her mouth trying to chase those pesky words back to where they came from. But then she groans again and bucks her hips against them and he snaps back to reality with a snap of his hips, burying himself inside of her to the hilt.

A breathy little “oh” escapes her lips and drifts into Ron’s mouth and he swallows it greedily, deciding that he’ll allow it even though it’s technically talking. He pulls back, his length dragging across her tight walls and slick wetness and hesitates only a moment before plunging back in.  She angles her hips so that he brushes against her clit with every stroke and her head falls back and he hears fast, breathy little gasps and this time he’s the one who speaks-

“Fucking hell, Hermione,” he growls. He picks up speed because he can’t help himself; he knows he won’t last long because there’s something about fucking your studious, serious, talkative, determined, intelligent, sexy, wonderful girlfriend on your kitchen counter that brings about an orgasm pretty quickly. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, because she’s shifted her weight to on hand so that she can bring the other to the point that they’re connected.  He almost comes undone right then and there, feeling her fingertips move against his skin while they’re moving against her most sensitive spot.

He lets go and pounds into her, gripping her hips for leverage and dipping his head to recapture a nipple. She arches her back and her breast fills his mouth and he groans against her skin. He knows she’s close; he can feel her start to tighten as her fingers move faster.  He buries himself inside of her with every thrust and suddenly she comes, her thighs tightening around him and her chest heaving as she falls over the brink.

Ron is not far behind her; a few more thrusts and he empties himself inside of her. They collapse against each other panting, and stay that way for a few moments before he pulls back. Her hair is wild and a few curls are sticking to her sweaty face.  He loves it.

They disentangle themselves from each other and head to the bedroom to clean up and get changed.  He gets done before her and head back into the kitchen to get dinner ready.  After a few minutes she pads in and zaps the kettle with her wand. She pours a cup of tea after the kettle whistles and settles in to eat.

Later, they’re cuddled on the couch.  Hermione has a huge book spread across her lap and Ron is flipping through the day’s issue of The Daily Prophet. He leans his head against hers and plants a kiss against her hair. “Want to tell me about your day now?”

She looks up at him and smiles. “Maybe later. I like the quiet.”

[akawestruck]

Best Friends, of course

After a bewildering interaction with Hermione, Harry learns that some people think romance is important. Luckily, Snape does not. Short snippets of a world in which almost none of the Harry Potter plot is relevant. Snarry, but the ‘romance’ is a queerplatonic relationship between two aromantic people.

This is the original version of BF,oc. After some contemplation, I opted to change out one of the scenes to better reflect the relationship I wanted Harry and Snape to have. That is, less physical. The new version is now on ff net.

Harry and Severus are both aromantic and asexual, although they never use those terms. Forget almost all of the Harry Potter plotline and just go with whatever’s implied in the snippets. Timelines… don’t exist. Everybody’s alive, yay. We’re not sure what happened to Voldie.

This is unbeta’d, so if you notice any mistakes, please let me know.

I do not own Harry Potter.

“What are we, Harry?” Hermione looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Harry wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but he couldn’t just tell her that. Hermione would get upset. They were wizards, and students, and fifth years, and humans, and any number of things. Nothing in the context of their conversation helped, either. She had only just recovered her breath from a laughing fit due to Harry’s spin on the story of the twin’s last prank.

Hermione rolled her eyes when Harry failed to answer immediately. “To each other, Harry. What are we to each other?” After getting her annoyance out of the way, Hermione once again got that hopeful, sweet expression on her face.

Harry was still confused. “Friends? Best friends, of course.”

Hermione crumpled. “Oh. Right. Of course.” She mustered a weak smile. “How did they get Seamus’s hair regrown in time for the feast?”

“That’s the great part!” Harry enthused, glad to be back in familiar territory. “They didn’t!”

“Enera!” A sharp flick of his wand set the air crackling, followed swiftly by a branch falling. Harry caught it in a spell before it hit the ground, not foolish enough to make such a loud noise in the Forest. He was tempted, though. A good fight with a Jabberwa sounded good right now. Maybe he’d be able to think clearly, then.

Harry gave his wand a swish and brought the branch flying toward himself, catching it as easily as he would a disarmed wand. After a few moments of inspection he set it in the pile to his left. A little too bendy for what he wanted. That’s what he got for choosing trees from a distance. Better to spend his temper with cutting curses at trees than people, however.

A soft rustling of leaves warned Harry that he had attracted a visitor, and he whipped around, wand at the ready, stunner on the tip of his tongue.

His gaze found narrowed black eyes and Harry relaxed.

“This is your last free pass of the week, Mr. Potter, and it’s only Thursday,” Snape remarked dryly.

Harry hunched his shoulders, letting the overlong sleeves of his sweater fall over his hands. He didn’t have to be at the ready with Snape there to look out for threats. “It’s not been a great few days.”

Snape lifted one eyebrow. The man would never invite Harry to confide in him, but managed to offer it silently anyway.

Harry picked up his tiny bundle of selected branches and took a few steps to fold himself among the roots of a nearby tree. He wasn’t sure Snape wouldn’t just dismiss Harry’s concerns as overblown teenage drama. The professor did that sometimes, and it always stung. A few weeks hindsight usually showed that the dismissal was deserved, but Harry really wasn’t in the mood to decipher the concern Snape hid in harsh - cruel - words.

While Harry stewed, Snape investigated the pile of rejected branches, taking one or two out to test for himself. “You’ve become more discerning.”

“Or I’m just not in a generous mood,” Harry retorted.

Snape’s sidelong glance clearly indicated that he expected Harry to elaborate, but Harry refused on principle.

“Were the Timberwilly tracks there on your way in?”

Harry picked at his sticks. “I wouldn’t have noticed if there was,” he admitted.

“Potter,” Snape growled.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, Professor.” Harry lifted his glasses to rub at his eyes. “It’s been a really not great few days.”

“That does not excuse carelessness, Potter. Awareness of your surroundings is even more important if you are not working at your best.” Snape flicked his wand, vanishing the discarded branches to who-knows-where.

“Yeah. I’ll be more careful.” Harry sighed. “Any chance you’ll need to be out here to collect some more herbs tomorrow night?”

Snape studied him carefully before deciding, “Yes, Mr. Potter. And I think the lesson will stick best if you join me for detention tomorrow. We will meet in my classroom after supper.”

“Thanks, Professor.” Harry smiled warily and let his head thump back against the tree. He breathed in the mixed scent of furious life and continual decay, so distinctive to the Forbidden Forest. His most joyous memories may have taken place in Hogwarts, but contentment had come to be equated with that smell pricking at his nose.

Harry hauled himself up to follow Snape back out of the forest. After a few minutes of walking in silence, Harry eventually asked, “Professor, is there something wrong with being friends?”

Snape stopped immediately, glaring at Harry and opening his mouth to reply with a sneer. Then he paused. “Context, Potter.”

“Right, yeah.” Harry rubbed the back off his head. “Hermione’s been avoiding me lately, and, when I asked her why, she told me that if we’re 'just’ friends, she can’t spend all her time with me.”

“You and Granger were not a couple?”

“No!” Harry shuddered, thinking of himself involved in any of those gooey, starry-eyed relationships. “We aren’t like that. Weren’t,” he corrected with a wince. Harry squeezed the bundle of branches in his arms like some sort of spiky stuffed animal.

“Then perhaps the issue is that she wanted to be,” Snape offered. He looked uncharacteristically sympathetic.

“Why would she? We were fine how we were. And even if she did, we were still friends. Why would that just stop?” Harry shook his head. Snape was probably the wrong person to ask about interpersonal issues. Then again, usually Harry would ask Hermione, and that wasn’t an option anymore.

Snape gave a put-upon sigh. “Have you not noticed, Potter, that most people, particularly teenagers, place a great importance on romance?”

“Well, they’re always showing off with all the couple-y stuff, but it’s not like it’s really that big of a deal. It’s like bragging about a new toy.” Harry stopped, stunned by a sudden thought. “Please tell me they’re just bragging. They can’t be serious about all that-” Harry made vague gestures in the air to articulate his point.

“Just because you do not care about that drivel does not mean that they do not. Even the closest of friends may abandon you for a chance at the idiotic concept known as 'true love’.”

Harry stared up at Snape, devastated. Another way in which he was a freak. “But Hermione’s not… she’s not even with someone!”

“That is because she thought she was with you, Potter,” Snape snapped. He continued, with a mix of disdain and relish, “You gave her attention and affection, but most of all, you made her a priority in your life. And because she associates those things with romantic attraction, she assumed that you did as well. Then you crushed her hopes.”

“But I didn’t - I never - Merlin!” Harry strangled a frustrated scream and blinked away tears. He’d lost his best friend over a stupid misunderstanding? What had he done to make her think that way? Had Harry led her on?

Was this Harry’s fault?

“You sound like a wounded animal. Get up. We’re going back to the castle before you attract something nasty.”

Harry laughed weakly, thinking that surely the nastiest thing in the Forest was already here and on his side. Nevertheless, he obeyed and stood. “Professor? Do you - That is, did you lose a friend like this?”

Snape studied him. “Not precisely. My childhood friend was never attracted to me. Rather, she could not imagine the possibility of remaining so close to me while pursuing a romantic relationship with her beloved. She distanced herself, but in the end it was my own fault that our ties were severed completely.”

“Oh. Um. Thanks for telling me.” Harry blushed absurdly, lowering his eyes. Then he looked back up at Snape, pleadingly. “Will I ever… will I ever feel like that? Like being someone’s boyfriend is the most important thing in the world?”

“I cannot speak for you, Potter,” Snape replied severely. “But for myself, no. I never have.”

“Your go.” Harry passed the board back to Severus, idly studying his professor’s rooms while he waited for Severus to take his turn.

“Clever,” Severus muttered, intent on the board.

“A compliment, Professor?” Harry teased. “Should I get out my wand? Is the end of the world immanent?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Harry laughed. It was strange, being friends with his professor, but spending time with Severus was easier than interacting with any of Harry’s 'peers’ had ever been.

Severus smirked as he made his move and passed the board back to Harry.

Harry stubbornly stared at the board for several minutes before conceding defeat. “You’ve gotten good at this.”

“Yes, well, when one’s opponent is you…” Severus mocked, but all soft around the eyes in that way that made Harry melt.

Before he could blurt out something stupid, Harry began resetting the board.

“Have you confirmed your holiday plans?” Severus asked.

Harry nodded. “I’ll be staying here. Fred and George said I was going to be invited back to the Burrow, but apparently Hermione still isn’t as okay as she says she is. Thinks I must be jealous of her and Ron.”

“You are jealous.”

“Yeah, because she actually talks to him! And I don’t need commentary, I already feel like crap for being willing to settle for whatever scraps of attention she gives me, I don’t need to feel worse for begrudging Ron.”

“Very well.” Severus made his first move without contemplating more than a moment. “I’ve been invited to Germany for the solstice. Hollybrein flowers only bloom in the wild, and only once a year. A new field of them has been discovered.”

“Oh.” Harry swallowed his disappointment. He was excited for Severus. He was. The Potions Master rarely got to go farther than the Forbidden Forest for ingredient collection these days, and Harry knew the man missed travelling. And he was getting the opportunity to access rare, fresh ingredients. “What are the flowers used for?”

“Nothing at all. The pollen, however, is invaluable to combat allergies and the common cold. If Hollybrein could ever be cultivated, there would be no more flu season.”

“That’s great! Pollen to fight pollen. Very cool. When. Um. When will you leave, do you know?”

“That, Potter, depends on whether the assistant I want agrees to come with me.”

Harry fumbled the board. “Me? You want - Yes! Yes, can I? Will Dumbledore agree? Is it safe?”

Severus chuckled. “Completely.” He looked over at Harry, who was correcting the board. “One square to the right, don’t cheat.”

“We can’t all have perfect memories,” Harry groused, fixing the pieces into their proper positions. He made his move. “So, when are we leaving?”

“December twentieth. We’ll be cutting it close, but I’d rather be able to stay after to process the pollen before transporting it. And you have assignments to finish, so we can’t simply flee to Germany for the entire break.”

“As if you don’t have essays to grade.”

“It’s hardly time consuming to give you dunderheads Trolls,” Severus drawled. Then he frowned at the board. “How’ve you done that?”

“Great skill,” Harry advised him sagely. He wasn’t bothered by Severus’s marking anymore. He’d spent afternoons in the man’s office while he slogged through the essays with far more care than Harry had originally expected.

Two moves later, Snape sighed. “You’ve won. Now show me that trick again.”

“Of course, Professor.”

“So Harry,” Fred began, appearing at his elbow.

“We heard a rumor,” George continued, bracketing him between them. It wasn’t unusual, when they all were on their way to Quidditch practice.

“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with the Dungeon Bat.”

“Want to tell us a little something?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shove off. I heard a rumor that Lee came back from the holidays this time with a two-tailed scorpion that breathes fire.”

“The fire may be a - ” “ - slight - ” “ - exaggeration.”

“You three are ridiculous.”

“Come on, Harry.”

“Give us something juicy.”

“We won’t tell.”

In sync, the twins waggled their eyebrows absurdly. They arrived at the locker room and the twins collided with the doorway, jostling each other to get past.

“I’m his assistant for collecting potion ingredients. We had to go to Germany over the holidays.” Harry shoved his books in his locker and pulled out his gloves. “Juicy enough for you? Swear you’ll never, ever tell?” he added wryly.

“Cross our hearts,” Fred agreed.

“And hope to lie.”

Harry laughed. “Ridiculous,” he sang, leaving them behind in the locker room.

After practice they caught him again, a bit more serious. “If there’s something between you and the greasy git, you know you can tell us, right, Harry?”

“We won’t snitch on you.” George was never able to resist a pun.

“We’re not involved like you’re implying,” Harry snapped. “Snape is a friend, okay? Nothing else.”

Fred held up his hands. “Alright, mate. Just wanted you to know that we support you, or whatever.”

“No matter who you like, Harry,” George agreed. “From bookworms to Hufflepuffs. Even greasy old Slytherins.”

“I don’t like -!” Harry cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I don’t like Snape like that. I didn’t like Hermione or Cedric like that. I don’t like anyone like that. You want to support me? Join the impossibly small club of people who don’t imply that I want to date anyone I talk to for more than ten minutes.”

The twins exchanged a skeptical look, and George shrugged. “Sure. But when you do, you’ll tell us, right?”

Harry made a sound not unlike a boiling kettle. “That’s not going to happen. If it ever does, I’ll let you know, so you can check me for love potions.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes! Assume love potion or charm until proven otherwise. And make sure to let Snape know. He’ll know all sorts of weird curses to check for.”

“Right. So you’re not gay?”

“No. I’m not gay. Or straight. I’m nothing. I’m disinterested.”

“Severus?” Harry asked tentatively.

The man snorted. “Don’t look so terrified, Harry. I thought you might appreciate chocolate that you don’t have to check for wayward spells.”

“So, it’s not…”

“No.”

A wave of relief sent Harry crashing down on a chair. “Thank Merlin.” He shook his head clear. “What flavors’ve we got, then?”

“Malt, almond, and coconut.”

“A present for yourself as well? Go on, take the coconuts.” Harry set the box of chocolates on the table between them. It was disturbingly pink, with a red bow printed on.

Severus examined his chocolate clinically before popping it in his mouth. He wrinkled his nose. “Overpriced.”

“I’ve heard that the best deals are actually a few days after. Want to sneak down to Hogsmeade this weekend? We can probably triple this for the same cost.”

“One, I do not sneak. Two, us in Hogsmeade buying chocolate together would raise some eyebrows. And three, we’ll have decontaminated your worshipers offerings by then, eaten them, and sworn off all sugar.”

“One, you totally sneak. Two, their faces would be hilarious. And three, don’t call them worshipers.”

“What would you prefer? Rabid fans? Potterheads?”

Harry groaned. “I almost wish I’d had another nasty article published about me last week, just so there would be less of them.”

“Then you’d be receiving poison as well as love potions.”

“I’m probably getting some of both anyway.”

Severus held out the last chocolate, a malt. “Good that you have a Potions Master on hand to combat any malicious plots to romance you, then.”

Harry plucked the chocolate from him and ate it in two bites, to savor it. “Do you ever think we’re weird? For not wanting all that, I mean. You’d be an awesome boyfriend.”

“Never attempt to apply the term boyfriend to me again, Potter. And no. I’ve made my peace with it.” Severus drummed his fingers against the arm rest. It left some chocolate smudges, but Harry didn’t say anything. Severus would just get irritated at himself for no reason, since the house elves would clean it up.

“My mother was dosing my father with love potions for years,” Severus eventually said. He ignored Harry’s choked-off, “What?” and continued, “I always wondered whether my disinterest was a side-effect. There are no reported cases either way, due to the illegality, so I suppose I’ll never know. But I am as I am. When I was a boy I sometimes wished that I could feel that way for someone, to have all that fascination, that adoration focused on me. I haven’t wished that for years, however.”

Harry couldn’t think of anything sympathetic to say, so instead he teased, “I’m plenty fascinated with you.”

Severus chuckled. “Is that why I can’t get rid of you? I’d wondered.”

“Shut up. You know you’d be lonely without me here to annoy you.”

“I’d be utterly bereft.”

“Devastated.”

“Shattered.”

They snickered like children. “Want to start sorting through my loot? You can take the sweets and I’ll start drafting replies to the love letters.”

“You don’t want me rejecting your lovelorn hopefuls for you?” Severus mocked.

“They would either cry or not understand your insults. Or both. Besides, I wouldn’t risk infecting you with feelings.”

“Merlin forbid.”

“Harry.” Severus sniffed. “Why do you smell of sex?”

Harry groaned. “You’re letter said it was urgent. I didn’t have time to shower.”

“Valkyrie interrupted a tryst, then?” Severus sneered.

“Merlin no. It’s bad enough having to use my hand. I don’t want other people touching me there. Or having to touch them. Gross. Why are we talking about this in the hall? Let me in. What was urgent?”

Severus’s robes billowed as he led Harry toward a large cauldron in the back of his lab. “It’s about to be finished.”

Harry sucked in a breath. “Seriously? And the color’s still right?”

“Everything’s perfect. We will soon be in possession of the only completed Stone-eye potion since Merlin’s time.”

“You insane, brilliant man.” Harry swallowed. “How long?”

Severus cast a Tempus. “Seven minutes.”

“You owled me with only thirty minutes to go! What if I’d been at Hagrid’s? Or busy? I could have missed it!”

“It only changed color an hour ago. I had to prepare the flasks and check over the distillery.”

“Is there anything left I can do?”

Severus smirked and pulled a short, thick piece of metal from his pocket. “You designed the symbol. Only fitting that you be the one to make the seal.”

“Yes!” Harry took out his wand and bit his lip. He tapped the metal and transfigured it into an inverted stamp of a snake eye with a sword as the slit pupil.

“Excellent. Now we only wait.”

Harry bounced in place. “I can’t believe you actually managed this. I mean, I totally knew that you could. But two years of obsessive timing and tweaking. I can’t wait to read the letters from posh old Potion Masters begging for your notes.”

“That will be a treat,” Snape agreed. Then he said, almost idly, “You would have been in time if you’d taken a shower.”

“But I didn’t know that, now did I? If I smell that bad I’ll use the lab one, but you have to Accio me some fresh robes.”

“Yes, yes. I don’t want this moment associated with the scent of sweaty Potters.”

“Fine, geez.” As he stripped for the shower, which was really just a showerhead in the corner with a drain beneath, Harry kept talking. “You never have to use your hand? How do you get rid of it? Willpower? That can’t feel as good.”

Severus sighed. “On the rare occasion that 'it’ comes up, I ignore it.” He flicked his wand and the shower started.

“'Comes up’,” Harry cackled, stepping into the water. “Nice. My housemates have implied that daily is normal. Is it rarer 'cause you’re old?”

“I’m not old, Potter. And my age has had no effect on its frequency.”

“Really? Huh. Less time wasted, I guess. But it is does feel good.”

“I had assumed that its lack correlated with my disinterest.”

“Maybe for most people? I won’t traumatize you with the discussions I’ve heard about what my housemates fantasize about, but they do seem to get aroused due to attraction as much as anything.” Harry shut off the water and accepted a towel from Severus. “I just enjoy all the sensations my body gives me until it’s over.”

“That sounds awful,” Severus informed him.

“Whatever works, I guess. Time?”

“Two minutes.”

Harry dressed and sat on a lab table, ignoring a glare from Severus. “It’s weird talking about sex things with an adult. But it’d be even weirder to avoid talking about it with my best friend. You should invent a de-aging potion.”

“If I ever manage that, I will be too busy enjoying my riches to entertain you.”

“Like you wouldn’t invite me to your private island.”

“With your luck you’d drown getting there.”

“Not untrue.”

They both spent a while staring at the potion.

“Best friend?”

“Too juvenile?”

“Not if the sentiment is honest.”

“Always will be. Even when you’re a jerk.”

“One minute,” Snape said. Then, softly, “And the sentiment is returned.”

“Severus!” McGonagall’s voice carried throughout Severus’s chambers, accompanied by four sharp raps on the door.

Harry groaned and huddled deeper under the blankets. “Make her stop.”

Severus was already out of bed and pulling on robes, based on what Harry could hear. “Stay in here. I refuse to suffer a lecture from Minerva before dawn.”

“Yessir,” Harry slurred, snuggling with his pillow. Severus despised Harry’s oversized, cloud-soft pillows, but they were superior for hiding from sunlight and wakefulness.

On his way out Severus must have activated the Eccio ward, because Harry could hear his and McGonagall’s conversation. Which was not conducive to sleep, but was reassuring.

“Severus! Potter’s gone missing.”

Not reassuring. Not reassuring at all. Harry scrambled out of bed and began pulling on his clothes. Where had he left the Invisibility Cloak?

“Missing, Minerva? How do you know?”

“None of his friends have seen him since Friday. The Weasley twins came to me this morning. The twins, Severus. They wouldn’t have come if they weren’t deeply worried. He isn’t in his bed”

“Two days is hardly long enough for alarm. The boy was probably just hiding away from the sycophants he calls friends. There’s no cause for concern unless he misses his classes today.”

“This is serious. I know you care about Harry more than you let on, Severus. We need to find him.”

“Try the quidditch pitch. He’s been known to go flying when he can’t sleep, and I assume his avoidance is due to brooding or some such.”

Harry took the hint gratefully. He secured the Cloak and went to the window, Accio'ing his broom. He usually left it unsecured nowadays, just in case he felt like flying out of the castle. Severus wasn’t wrong about his nighttime flying habits, though the man had neglected to mention that he would occasionally join Harry, sitting in the stands and sipping tea while he watched Harry do stupid and dangerous stunts.

There was only time for a few loops and a speed run under the stands before Severus and McGonagall arrived at the field.

Harry touched down, feigning surprise. “Professors! What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“What’s happened is that your lack of consideration has sent your friends into a panic,” Severus snapped.

“I did? I’m so sorry, Professor McGonagall! I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I just needed some time away.”

“As I said. Next time, leave a note. At least then they’ll know you haven’t been kidnapped.” With that, Severus stalked away. He probably was truly furious, Harry guessed. Their wonderful weekend of non-stop research and childish games had ended on a sour note because Harry hadn’t anticipated his friends noticing his absence. Ron and Hermione might not have, too busy doing sickeningly sweet couple-y things, but he ought to have had more faith in George. And Fred, eventually. Neville, Ginny, and Luna were used to him being randomly unavailable.

“I’m disappointed in you, Potter.”

“I understand, Professor. It won’t happen again.”

“I’m sure that it won’t. Come along, we’d best present you to your friends before they take it upon themselves to find you.”

“Yes, Professor. I’ll just put away my broom.”

When Harry got back, McGonagall was eyeing him thoughtfully. “Where have you been sleeping, Potter? According to your housemates you haven’t been in the dorm.”

Harry blushed. “A friend of mine from another house found some spare room for me. I really didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

Luckily, McGonagall was too tactful to ask which friend he had stayed with, as his only friends in other houses among the student body were Luna and Cedric. Actually, Cedric probably would if Harry ever asked. But Cedric and Cho were well-known to be madly in love, so Harry would be cast as a heartbreaker when gossip inevitably got out and assumed his intentions to be less than platonic.

If Malfoy got involved, they could call it the Seeker Scandal. Harry would have to remember to share that thought with Severus. The man would be amused.

McGonagall escorted him to Gryffindor Tower. “Reassure your friends, Mr. Potter. And get to class on time.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“You really want to try this?” Harry settled cautiously in Severus’s lap.

“I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t.”

Harry swallowed. “Right. Then, um. Right.” He leaned forward and gently touched his mouth to Severus’s skin, right where his neck met his shoulder. It felt… like nothing. He pulled back and licked his lips before trying again, this time with his mouth just slightly open. He slid them together then off. It was fine, he supposed, so he tried doing the same again. And again. Change the angle a little. Up a little higher on Severus’s neck. Mouth a little wider. This was strangely addicting.

He pressed his tongue to Severus’s skin. It wasn’t particularly impressive, as far as skin went, but Harry hadn’t been expecting much anyway. At least there were no toxic chemicals.

Harry sat back. “What do you think?”

“Far better than kissing on the mouth, somewhat worse than lying together on the couch.”

“Agreed. Swap?”

Severus made an agreeable noise and went for Harry’s neck. Except that Severus started with his tongue, and Harry went rigid.

Severus immediately withdrew. “Unpleasant?” He sounded disappointed.

“Extremely pleasant. Do that again. Please.”

Severus grinned and returned to Harry’s neck. He made liberal use of his tongue and minimal use of his teeth, and Harry was soon shivering and annoyingly aroused. Severus politely ignored the intrusion and ran his hands up and down Harry’s back, knowing just when to back off so Harry didn’t have to call a stop due to overstimulation.

Eventually Severus ceased his ministrations and hooked his chin over Harry’s shoulder, letting them both rest in the loose embrace. “Better than the couch, close second to feeding you.”

“Better than being fed, not as good as washing each other’s hair. Very small doses only.”

“Agreed. Next time we’ll have you face away. I suspect the lack of friction will help.”

“Sounds good. One more thing?”

“Very well.”

Harry found that for some reason, though laving attention on Severus’s neck did very little for him, planting a small kiss just behind Severus’s jaw felt unbearably sweet. He hummed happily, resting his forehead on the damp patch of skin he had made earlier. “I like that. My equivalent to you doing the neck squeeze thing.”

“This?” Severus asked teasingly, cupping the back of Harry’s neck, and, yes, squeezing.

“Anything else on the list of curiosities? I think that was it.”

“We belayed all forms of 'PDA’ for now, so yes, I believe we’re done.”

Harry snickered. “Everyone is going to be so confused when we test those.”

“You laugh now, but I’m the one who will have to reign in your temper when they mistake us for a couple.”

“Yeah, yeah. What time is it?”

“Seven fifty-three.”

“Please tell me that’s late enough to go to bed.”

“No. You’ll wake up at three in the morning and moan about it. Get up. You can edit the most recent chapter while I work on the next.”

“Fine.” Harry didn’t move. “Severus?”

“Yes?” the man replied, impatiently.

“I know we’re not a couple, romantically. Obviously. But, um. We’re still going to be together for a long time, right? Until we’re both really old?”

“There are no guarantees. But yes, I plan to remain close with you for as long as I may.”

“And I’ll argue with you if you ever think you may not,” Harry grumbled, smiling.

“As I will argue with you if you ever think I may not.”

“Good.”

“Exceptionally.”

“Severus,” Harry whined. “I’m bored.”

“Mufflito.”

“Finite Incantem. Don’t be such a meany, Sev.”

“Don’t expect me to entertain you, brat.”

“I’m graduating in next month.”

“Assuming that you didn’t fail this essay. Which you will if you don’t cease irritating me while I grade it.”

“But we still haven’t decided how to keep in touch!”

Severus put aside his paperwork and folded his hands carefully. “Harry. On the first Friday of each month you will be flooing here to spend the weekend with me. On every Saturday that we are not together, we will be floo calling for two hours from ten to noon. If either of us cancel on Saturday, we will move the call to Sunday. If this ever occurs twice consecutively, we will owl each other at least a two sentence note. At the end of your apprenticeship you will be moving back to Hogwarts, and get a suite connected to mine by secret passage. This is the most structured plan to keep in contact I have had in my life, and I was a triple agent for over a decade.”

Harry slumped deeper into the couch, sulking but with a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “Sorry, Severus. ’M just nervous.”

“And you have every right to be. You are taking a step into unfamiliar territory, largely alone and with little idea of what to expect. But that does not give you leave to prevent me from fulfilling my obligations.”

“Yeah, I know.” Harry sat up. “Can I. Um. Can I sit against your legs? I think I could be quiet then.”

“If it will keep you quiet, be my guest.”

There was an awkward shuffle before Harry got himself folded comfortably under Severus’s desk, head resting the man’s knee. Harry sighed happily. “This should have been on the list.”

Severus ran a hand through Harry’s hair, but led by example and remained silent.

Harry woke from his half-drowse when Severus stretched. “Wha’ time’s it?”

“You’ve been asleep for two hours. How does your neck feel?”

“Surprisingly good.” Harry yawned. “Must be dark by now, yeah? Still up for going to the Forest tonight?”

“Of course. I’ve finished the marking. You did well.”

“’M a good assistant.”

“A shame you’re going into Defense. Potions has lost a valuable asset.”

“My contribution to the field’ll be convincing you to write textbooks. I’ll be very appreciated.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Everyone is staring.”

“Hardly, Potter.”

“No, Sev, everyone is actually staring. Even the first years.” Harry’s cheeks were beginning to go hot.

“You are somewhat famous.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“Perhaps they find you handsome. Tans are apparently all the rage, these days.”

“How would you even know that? Never mind. Explain the boys, then. A large proportion of them should be straight.”

“Envious of your good looks.”

“I can’t believe you managed to say that with a straight face. Pardon the pun. They’re still staring!”

“They’ve never seen two teachers chattering like little girls,” McGonagall interrupted from the far side of Severus. “A little decorum, gentlemen.”

“I don’t think that’s it, either.”

“A mix of both, most likely.”

“That could be it,” Harry agreed.

Dumbledore finished his speech and clapped, filling the tables with food.

“Chocolates, Severus, really? You’re such a sap.”

“Check the box.”

“These are all coconut!”

Severus laughed, and Harry finally realized.

“They’re not staring at me! They’re staring at you! You’re smiling! In public!”

Severus attempted, and failed, to control his expression. “I blame you, Potter.”

“Why, Professor, I’m honored! To be credited with inciting the great Dungeon Bat to smile. Have I won an award? Will I need to make a speech?”

“I know where you sleep.”

“I have unlimited access to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.”

“Boys. Please refrain from starting a prank war on the first day of the term.”

“I do not participate in prank wars,” Snape spluttered.

Harry patted his hands. “Of course you don’t, dear. Eat your chocolate.”

“You little - !”

If you’re curious, George and Fred knew Harry was out of bed because they snuck in to prank him. I don’t know what game Harry was teaching Severus, but it was Muggle and not chess. I suspect something with complicated rules and too many distinct pieces.

A lot of the aro-ace feels in this relate to my own experiences, so they’re a narrow slice of the spectrum.

If you have an idea for a new snippet that fits this line in, I will give you a virtual hug, because I really wanted to use it: “Perhaps we’ve finally succumbed to the romantic notions of the masses.”

[katdvs]

“Any time, any place, or anywhere you know that I’ll always be there*.” One choice, one decision, one wish from deep in her heart at Christmas time has led Riley to this time and place with Lucas. *This Gift, 98°

Past Chapters | Cross Posted to FF

Author Note: Okay, here it is the last chapter. Thank you so much for reading, all the lovely comments, everything. Xoxoxoxo I’m always available on Tumblr and Twitter if you have any questions or just want to say Hey.

Chapter 11

He watched as she tried to hold back the smile on her face as she moved towards him around the table, “Riley, happy birthday.”

“What are you, why?” she searched his face, this was the face that had greeted her in her dream.

He gave her a nervous smile, “I um,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I came to take you home.”

Riley closed her eyes, feeling the tears before she looked up at him, “Take me home, please.”

He reached out for her hand, taking it in his, peace swept through his body when they touched. Neither spoke as they walked out of the restaurant.

Maya looked around at everyone, “What just happened?”

“Well Maya, I think Riley just picked herself over you for once in her life and she’s going to Texas with Lucas.” Zay explained sure that’s what happened.

Maya scoffed, “Oh please she’ll never go to Texas.”

Riley gave the cab driver her address as she and Lucas sat in the backseat holding hands. She had a million things she wanted to say, and a feeling that he had a million things to say as well. When they arrived in front of her building Lucas paid and then followed her inside.

She unlocked her door, flipping on the lights, taking a step forward and tripping, feeling Lucas catch her. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, but why do you have suitcases piled up in front of your door like this?” He knew that she could give him a thousand different reasons, different answers, but he felt as his heart seemed to have stopped beating as he waited for the only answer he wanted, needed to hear.

Riley looked down at the ground, licking her lips, running her hands through her curled hair before removing her coat revealing her purple dress.

Lucas gasped when he saw her.

“What?” She blinked as she studied him, watching him remove his jacket, “Whoa.”

“What?” Lucas closed the door and took a step towards her, “You’re dressed very much like you were for our first date.”

“So are you.” She blinked back tears, “This is just you and me Lucas, you didn’t show up tonight to take me back to my apartment did you.”

He put his jacket over the pile of suitcases, “When I said I came to take you home, I didn’t mean here.” He looked around, finding it odd there were no picture frames and boxes were filled with her books. “I meant Texas, I meant the ranch, where we should’ve been together for the past ten years, but we haven’t.”

“You came all the way here,” she stepped towards him, her hands finding their way to his forearms as she looked up into his eyes, “to try and convince me to go to Texas and…be your wife?”

His lips quivered, “If you’ll have me, is their someone else?”

She gently shook her head, “No one else, never, ever, you and Mrs. Ellis’ daughter Alice haven’t had a thing, have you?”

“How do you know about Mrs. Ellis trying to set me up with Alice?”

Riley pulled away, “It was in the dream I had last night after I got knocked over by a horse.”

“I heard something about that. What did you dream?”

“I dreamed of you and me, together, in Texas, with our three children. Mrs. Ellis waiting out our marriage so that Alice could snag you.” Riley sat on her couch.

“Alice has no chance with me, my heart has belonged to you since the seventh-grade Riley.” He sat next to her, picking up her hand to his lips and kissing it. “It looks like you’ve already made plans to go somewhere, I know that when you decide something you go with it all the way.”

“I have a flight to Austin tomorrow.” She confessed watching the way his eyes widened and his lips turned up, “I realized I couldn’t keep pushing aside my feelings for you, the life we should’ve had.”

“So, you want to come to Texas, to the ranch, to me?”

Riley nodded as she sat on her knees, her hand caressing his cheek, watching the way his eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into her touch, “You Lucas Merlin Friar are the love of my life, I made a mistake ten years ago, not going to Texas to be with you, its eaten away at me every single day since. If you really want me as your wife, you get me.”

His heart was racing as he sat up straighter, covering her hand with his, “You want me as your husband?”

“I always have.”

“As the father of your children?”

“No one else could ever be their father.”

“You want to run the ranch with me and maybe”

“Friar Family Christmas Tree Farm, yes.”

His mouth hung open, “I haven’t told anyone about that?”

“My dream, that’s what we did, we worked hard to make it a success, for ourselves the kids, Pappy Joe and Mama Betty, their memories.”

Lucas pulled her close, “I’m not going to wake up and find out this is a dream am I?”

“No this is real, I promise you.” She let her lips drop onto his, feeling the immediate pull of his arms wrapping around her and pulling her onto his lap.

His hands splayed her back as he felt her settle onto his lap. His body flooded with everything he’d missed, he broke the kiss to taste her neck and nibble her ear, “I missed you, I dreamed of you, life without you is like a faded black and white movie in desperate need of restoration.”

Riley pulled away, “Tomorrow, we’ll go back to Texas, and we’ll figure out when to get married.”

“Christmas Day.” He breathed as her forehead rested on his.

“And we’ll plant a tree as the first for the tree farm.” She smiled.

“Exactly” He kissed her, his fingers combing her hair, “And we’ll honeymoon in Paris.”

“You promise?”

“I do.” He felt her kiss his forehead as she went to the pile of suitcases and opened the smallest one, taking out the red box. “Riley, what is it?”

“You gave me this,” She sat back down next to him, “I could never bring myself to send it back to you, I don’t know why.”

“Because we needed it here, right now.” He took the box and removed the ring, “I remember picking this out, I took Auggie with me after a baseball practice. The moment I saw this, I knew you were meant to wear it.”

Riley felt her hands shaking as Lucas took hold of her left one and slipped the ring on, “It still fits.”

He kissed her hand near the ring, “I actually do have something for you, it’s in my jacket.”

Riley pulled away, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

He smiled as he pulled the box out, “I um, I couldn’t help but notice you’re wearing the charm bracelet.”

Riley covered it with her hand, “I was drawn to it last night and just had to put it on, it sat in my jewelry box for years.”

“Over the last decade, I can’t explain it, there would be these days when I was just drawn to buy certain charms. I have more in Texas, but these four, I can’t explain it Riley, but no matter what happened when I saw you tonight, I knew you had to have them.” He sat back down handing her the box.

“Whatever these are, I think it’s the absolute sweetest thing that you continued to get these all this time.” She removed the lid of box, almost dropping it when she saw what was inside, “Oh my God.”

“Riley, are you okay?”

She pulled out the first charm, “Calliope,” and the second, “Lucas-Joseph,” the third, “Harper,” and the last one, “Kevin.” She blinked back the tears, “In my dream, these charms, these exact charms were the ones you gave me for our children.”

“How many children did we have?” He could see the sadness sweeping over her.

“Three, in my dream life wasn’t perfect, we’d lost a child before he was born, Kevin. Our perfect little angel.” She looked at the charms, “Do you remember when you bought these?”

Lucas thought for a moment picking up the first one, “August maybe, nine years ago.”

“That’s when Calliope would’ve been born.” She could feel her heartbeat, “Let me guess, seven years ago, in the spring, right?”

He nodded as he took the harp charm, “Five years ago, February.”

Riley looked at the angel charm, “And this one.”

Lucas took it from her, “I had this insane ache for weeks, I couldn’t explain it, I was in Austin picking up something for my Mother’s birthday, I saw this and the ache felt like it started to fade, as if I acknowledge some sort of pain I didn’t know I felt.”

She didn’t speak as she took the charms from him, putting them in the box and then on the coffee table. “I don’t know if I can ever find the words that will really, truly, express how I feel about you, how much I need you, want you, love you. I’m sorry I made us wait ten years for this.”

“To be fair Riley, I didn’t rush up here to throw you over my shoulder and take you to Texas before tonight.”

“Is that what you were planning to do?”

“Not exactly” her smirked with a wink, “I was just going to ask you to come home with me, and be my wife, which I did.”

“And I will, when’s your return flight?”

“Tomorrow, I knew I couldn’t stay here for long if you rejected me.”

Her fingers traced the line of his beard, “It wasn’t you I ever rejected, it was me, but no more. You and Me, the family we will have, that’s everything to me.”

“What about your job?”

“It’s not important, not when I can finally have the life I want, the life I’ve always wanted.”

He pulled her onto his lap, “You really want to help run a ranch and start a Christmas Tree farm with me?”

“Yeah, I do, and help you with the books for your practice, and have your babies, and make award winning sheet cake.”

“That’s a tall order.”

“I can handle it all.” She felt him kiss her, she let her fingers drop to his sweater, clutching it, “Lucas, I might combust if you don’t touch me and make love to me soon.”

“I didn’t want to rush you.” He held her protectively before he rose from the couch, carrying her towards the bedroom, “I’ve dreamt of this for a decade Riley, I might have to take my time.”

She pushed the bedroom door open with her foot, “Take all the time you need Dr. Friar” he placed her down and she pulled her hair up so he could unzip her dress.

“Though I’ll confess Riley, I might combust as well.”

She felt his fingertips against her bare back as he unzipped the dress and she pushed it off her shoulders so it would fall to the ground. He unclasped her bra, watching as the purple lace fell to the ground with the dress and Riley stood in front of him in just her panties and heels.

Lucas gasped when she turned to him, the streetlights washing over her body as he took a step back, shedding his sweater, pulling his t-shirt off, before he felt her hands undoing the button and zipper of his jeans pushing them down.

His heart was pounding as he felt just the tips of her fingers grazing his legs. Here they were; alone, in just their underwear as they both pushed off their shoes, trying to keep eye contact with the other.

Riley bit her lower lip as she reached out to touch his chest, hard muscle defined by years of working the ranch, renovating a house, looking for distractions. She closed her eyes, “This isn’t all just mucking stalls, is it?”

He smirked, “A lot of carpentry work.” He pulled her against him, “You’ll see tomorrow night when we get home.”

“Home is wherever you are.” She snaked her arms around his neck, her fingers in his short hair before their lips connected in a kiss.

Lucas lifted her up, feeling her legs wrap around him as he moved the few steps towards the bed. He placed her down, breaking the kiss as he moved his hands down her body, feeling the electricity between them as he removed her panties and then kissed his way down her legs to her core.

Riley was dizzy from his touch, lost in every sensation, cursing herself that she’d denied herself this pleasure for a decade just as she felt his tongue and fingers performing magic on her. She gripped the comforter as he quickly brought her to heaven, her body throbbing for more of him as he kissed her.

She could feel his own need pressing against her body as she pushed his boxer briefs away, her fingers wrapping around him.

“Careful Princess” he moaned, not sure how long he could hold back.

She adjusted her position under him opening herself to him, her eyes locked with his as she nodded for him to take her.

Lucas gulped as he guided himself into Riley, feeling her welcoming heat and wetness stretching for him. “Are you okay?” he looked deep into the chocolate eyes he’d feared he’d never get to see clouded with pleasure again.

“Yes” she breathed before she felt him start their dance, she clung to him as her body arched in passion, feeling another wave of bliss sweeping over her body as the moans, grunts, cries of passion spilled from the both.

His fingers knotted in her hair as he crashed into her one final time, releasing all he had for her.

Riley ran her fingers down his chest; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight she counted before gazing into his eyes, “That was, combustible.”

“Yes, it was” he took her hand in his, their fingers entwining, “We did, I wasn’t planning for us to have sex tonight.”

“I wasn’t planning on it either, you are the only man I’ve ever been with.”

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever been with.”

“You mean Alice Ellis didn’t seduce you?”

He furrowed his brow, “Never, no one could ever seduce me but you.”

“In my dream, I had last night, her mother was pushing her towards you.”

Lucas chuckled, “She is, she will be, when we get home tomorrow I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re waiting on the porch with a pile of casseroles.”

“They’ll just have to take them home with them. I plan on being the only woman making you a home cooked meal.”

Lucas ran his hands over her hair, “You don’t have to be some step-ford wife.”

“Oh, I won’t be, I can promise you that.” She smirked, “But we’ll have homecooked meals, children running around, we’ll work hard because we’ll love what we do.”

“That must’ve been some dream.” He brushed her dark tendrils from her eyes.

“It was, but you, holding me, is a million times better.” She kissed his neck before starting a trail down his chest, feeling his golden chest hair against her lips.

Lucas pulled her up kissing her, holding her close, “Every night Riley, I’ll hold you while we sleep.”

She looked at him dreamily, “I know you will.”

Lucas woke, reaching for Riley but finding her side of the bed empty but he could hear the shower going. He smirked thinking of joining her when he heard someone banging on her door erratically. He pulled on his boxer briefs, before finding his jeans on the ground.

He braced himself to deal with Maya as he opened the door.

“Okay Riley, now I know you’re going to do something crazy.” Her father started talking, looking at the ground before up, “Oh boy.”

“Hi Mr. Matthews” Lucas crossed his arms over his bare chest.

Cory was quiet as he pushed past Lucas, he saw the suitcases by the door, and he looked around the apartment, “What are you doing here?” he finally hissed.

Lucas gulped, “I came to bring Riley home.”

Cory stared at the man in front of him, “Did she call you?”

Lucas shook his head, “No I just knew that I couldn’t live without your daughter in my life another day. I arrived yesterday morning, Farkle told me to wait until her party last night.”

“You spent the night?”

“We’re getting married on Christmas day.” Where were his shoes, could Cory steal them from him?

“That’s fast.”

“We’ve been apart for a decade sir.” Crap why was his shirt in the bedroom.

“You’ve both changed over that time.”

“No matter what experiences Riley or I have had over the last decade, it doesn’t change the fact that I love your daughter. I’ve known for a very long time I want to marry her, have a life with her.” Lucas took a step towards Cory, “I’ve spent a decade aching for her, for the life we can have. I will do anything and everything I can to make her happy.”

Cory sighed, “I know you can, I know you will.” He went to the window looking out at the city, “I’m just going to miss her.”

“You’ll be visiting us in Texas all the time, until you and Topanga finally move down because you’ll want to be around your grandchildren.” Lucas grinned, “You’ll be an awesome Grandfather.”

“He’s right Dad, you’ll be a great Pappy Cory.” Riley came in with her bathrobe on.

“Pappy Cory?” Both men asked.

“Yeah, Pappy Cory and Birdie, that’s what you and Mom will be.”

Cory started laughing, “Your mother is so not going for that one.”

“I mean she can always make a bet with Reva over if our first child is a boy or a girl, but Mom will lose.” Riley shrugged, “Hi Daddy.”

“First off Topanga doesn’t lose.” Cory watched his daughter as she acted like it was perfectly normal for Lucas to be shirtless in her apartment, “Second of all I thought you weren’t going to just run off to Texas.”

“Would you have left me alone yesterday when you brought me home if I told you I was going to buy a plane ticket to Texas and pack up my suitcases?”

“No, I wouldn’t have.” Cory sighed, “You’re really doing this, aren’t you?”

“Yup, I’m wearing the ring again, Christmas day, we’re going to get married on the ranch. I was going to call you and Mom today, to tell you.”

“And what are you doing to do for work in Texas, huh? Can you support my daughter and children?” Cory looked to Lucas.

“I have a thriving practice, the ranch is owned in full, um money in the bank, more than enough for a Paris honeymoon, and to be comfortable for quite a long time. Though there is a small business I would like to open, and Riley is up for the challenge.”

“What kind of business, what are you two getting into?”

“Friar Family Christmas Tree Farm, it’ll take a few years to grow the trees, but that gives us a little time to get the kids part of our life going.” Riley stood next to Lucas, “Dad, you knew the story, you knew eventually we’d get together, even after all this time, didn’t you?”

“Of course, I knew you would” Cory sighed sitting on the couch, “You’re going to leave for Texas today?”

“Yeah, our flight is late this afternoon.” Riley explained, “Um, I um talked to Sherri yesterday and resigned.”

“Before you saw Lucas?”

Riley looked to her future husband, “Yeah, I knew that I was going to be with him, if I had to fight off Alice Ellis, I would.”

“And you would win, I might’ve resisted at first, but you would always win.” Lucas reached out taking her hand.

“Oh, do the two of you really know what you’re getting into?”

“Yes Dad, we know, we’ve talked and we’ll keep talking, and we know some days it won’t be easy, we know some days it will be hard, but we’re ready to do this, to be together. If we weren’t, we wouldn’t be here right now, together.”

Cory looked at the couple, the way they just easily fell in step with each other, “I’ll tell your Mom, we’ll book tickets because you know we’re not missing your wedding, and I’m sure Topanga will make sure good movers are hired to pack up the rest of this and move it where it needs to go.”

“Thanks Daddy.” Riley gave him a hug, “I’m going to finish getting dressed, Lucas you probably need to get your stuff from the hotel right, you could probably run and do that, just bring it back here, and then we could get to the airport after.”

“That is a great idea, I’m going to um, get my shirt, sweater, shoes, and yeah.” Lucas nervously left to return to the bedroom.

He could hear Riley and Cory, it didn’t sound as though they were arguing. The last thing he would ever want to do was come between her and her family.

“Dad is, well Dad.” Riley returned to the bedroom grabbing the clothes she’d laid out the night before, “Everything is going to be okay, I know it will.”

Lucas tilted her chin up before giving her a quick kiss, “It will, I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“I know you will.” Riley ran her thumb over his lips, “Just watch out for rogue police horses, you don’t want to get knocked on the ass by one, trust me.”

Lucas chuckled as he grabbed his jacket, and slipped on his shoes before giving her a long kiss, “I love you Riley Emily Matthews.”

“I can’t wait to be Riley Emily Friar.”

“Soon.” He gave her a final peck on the lips before leaving to return to his hotel.

Maya stood outside of Riley’s apartment, she had a pounding headache which was normal she figured as she put her sunglasses up as if they were a headband before she began to knock on the door.

No one answered.

She knocked again.

Still no answer.

“Riley Matthews come on open up!” Maya cried from the hallway, “I know you’re mad at me, but come on, we’ve been besties forever.”

“She’s not in there Maya.” Topanga was behind her in the hall her arms full of flat cardboard boxes.

Maya stared at her confused, “Where is she?”

“Right now, the airport, she’s going to Texas.”

“I have to stop her.” Maya started to move past Topanga who stopped her.

“No, you need to let her do this.” Topanga put the boxes down, “Riley needs to go to Texas, she needs to be with Lucas, and you need to figure out how to be okay with that.”

“But I need her, I need her more than that hop along ever could.”

“You don’t need her.” Topanga took Maya by the arms and considered the younger woman’s red-blue eyes. “You need to stand on your own. You need to get your mess together Maya. Riley put her life, her heart on hold for ten years to be here for you. Let her put herself first for once in her life.”

“I can’t let her get hurt by him again.” Maya tried to rationalize as she struggled to get out of Topanga’s grip.

Topanga realized this was a moment she had hoped would never have to come, “Lucas was never the one to hurt Riley, you were, time and again, you were the root cause of her pain. You can’t make her stay Maya, you can’t force her to come back here. They’re getting married, they’ll have children. They’re going to build a life together.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”                                                                                            

“Maya, you don’t have anything to say about.” Topanga released her, watching as Maya glared at her before rushing down the hall, knowing that whatever destructive activity she was about to partake in, no one would be able to stop her, not even Riley.

“The last time we were here we were saying goodbye.” Lucas reminded Riley as they checked in their bags.

“But this time we are going home.” She took his hand as the moved past a guy dressed as Santa collecting change.

“I hope you got your Christmas wish.” He called out when Lucas dropped a handful of change into the bucket.

Riley felt a chill as she looked back, something familiar about the voice.

“You okay Ri?”

“Yeah, more than okay.” She squeezed his hand as they got in line for security.

“Part of me can’t believe this is real.” Lucas told her as he pulled the truck into the driveway.

“It’s real Lucas” She covered his hand with hers as they went up the long driveway, the sun was setting just beyond the house. “Is that the house?”

“Yeah, like I said I renovated it over the years. Do you like it?” His heart pounded, what if she hated everything he had done?

“This is almost exactly how it looked in my dream.” She couldn’t believe it as he parked the truck and she hopped out to explore the porch, “I mean in my dream there were toys from the kids all over the place, but this is it. These are the same flowers, that’s the same set of French doors, the window where we’ll put the Christmas tree. How, why did you do all of this?”

Lucas grabbed their bags from the bed of the truck, smiling as he watched her. “The house needed to be updated, I needed a project, and I kept asking myself, what would Riley want, and then I’d do it.”

She rushed down the stairs throwing her arms around him, “It’s perfect Lucas, you are perfect, any woman would be a fool not to see that. I am so very lucky you didn’t let another woman into your heart.”

Lucas lifted her up, an arm under her knees as he carried her up the stairs, “It’s been yours for all our lives, before we met it belonged to you.”

“You better watch it with the flowery words Doc, a woman might get used to them, she might crave them.”

Lucas put her down to unlock the door, only to find it already done. “That’s weird, I’m sure I locked it, unless Dylan came in the house for something.”

“Does he do that often?”

“Sometimes,” Lucas heard laughter from the house, he felt Riley right behind him as they moved towards the kitchen.

This was not how Riley expected to first set foot in her new home, but she knew Lucas would protect her.

“Now Alice make sure you sign that note with a heart so Lucas knows you made these with love.” Mrs. Ellis’ voice slipped in the air.

Riley saw Lucas sigh as he stood back, she moved in front of him. “Excuse me ladies, who the hell are you and what are you doing in my kitchen?”

Mrs. Ellis stood tall, “I’m sorry sugar, but who the hell are you?”

“The future Mrs. Lucas Friar, Riley. This is my kitchen, so I’d like to know who you are and what you two think you’re doing here, along with how you got in.” Riley put her hands on her hips and stared the older woman down before she looked to the younger woman, she was as tall as Riley, long yellow-blonde hair just like Maya, pouty lips, and pale gray eyes.

“Mama wouldn’t leave Dylan alone until he let us into the house. It was her idea,” Alice stammered, “I told you Mama he had a girlfriend somewhere!”

“Shut up Alice” Mrs. Ellis moved towards Riley, “If you’re his fiancé, when did the two of you meet?”

“First day of school, seventh grade, I fell in his lap on the subway.” Riley lifted her left hand to push her hair out of her eyes, making sure her engagement ring caught her eye, “Now, Mrs. Ellis, you and Alice can pack up all this food, take it back home, to a church social, some other poor sucker of a single man in this county, and get off this property before I call the Sheriff to escort you off.”

“Why you little b—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence Mrs. Ellis, I would do as Riley suggests.” Lucas had been stunned watching Riley before he moved in behind her.

Mrs. Ellis huffed as she stared at Riley, “You will never be accepted around here.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Riley took several casseroles and piled them back into Mrs. Ellis’ arms, “Let’s not see each other again until the sheet cake bake off.”

“Mama makes the best sheet cake in the county.” Alice gathered the other dishes as she followed her mother to the door.

“We’ll see about that.” Riley followed them to the door, slamming it shut after them, hearing Mrs. Ellis swearing about the nasty New Yorker.

Lucas stared at Riley, “Wow, I’m not sure what to think about that.”

“In my dream, she was waiting for me to leave you to get Alice with you.” Riley leaned against the door, “She isn’t like a major account, patient for you, is she?”

Lucas shook his head, “One cat, which I’m pretty sure they got as an excuse to come by my office.”

Riley nodded, closing her eyes for a second, “Let’s forget about them, and I want to see our house.”

Lucas took her hand, “Well living room in here, over here we have a dining room, and an office that I never use, I guess I always pictured you in there. The kitchen of course, which is yes yours.”

She squeezed his hand, “I love it, this is amazing Lucas, this is everything I could’ve asked for.”

“Upstairs, we have the bedrooms,” he led her to the staircase, “Um, I mean we’ve got five bedrooms, but four are of course empty, for now.”

Riley took in how the walls were bare, the bedroom doors didn’t have any stickers, or names on them.

Lucas opened the bedroom door, “Okay, what do you think?”

Riley smiled, “Just how it was in my dream.”

“That was some dream.” He came up behind her “What exactly happened in it?”

“Life, us, together, with three kids, busy with life on the ranch, the tree farm, attempting to make love, always being foiled by the kids.” She giggled when she felt his lips behind her ear, “We did finally get alone time, right before I woke up in the hospital.”

“Well, you know” Lucas moved down her neck with kisses, “We’re still childless for now, and we do have like a decade to make up for.”

“We do, but first we should bring our bags inside.”

Lucas sighed, “Fine, let’s get them and then you’re all mine.”

“I already am.” She giggled before he kissed her.

“Farkle open up” Maya cried as she rang his doorbell continually.

The door flew open, “What the hell Maya, what’s your malfunction.”

“We have to get her back, he stole her, he took her to Texas.” Maya’s body bounced with nervous energy as she looked up at one of her oldest friends.

“Dude what’s going on?” Zay came up behind Farkle, “Oh hey Maya.”

“Well how do we get Riley back, I need her.”

The two men looked to each other, communicating without words before Farkle turned back to Maya, “You don’t, Riley is where she belongs.”

“No, she belongs here with me. I need her more than Lucas ever will.”

“But she needs Lucas, and he needs her.” Zay explained, “And you need yourself, you need to stand on your own Maya.”

She ran her hands through her hair, “Why is no one willing to help me drag her back here?”

“Because she doesn’t want to be dragged back here.”

“She wants to be with Lucas.”

“She put her happiness, her life on hold to be here for you, and all it did was cause her pain.” Farkle explained to her, “You need to figure out your own mess, and maybe after a while you two can be friends, but I think you have a lot of work on yourself to do before then.”

“And you have to be willing to figure out who Maya is.” Zay chimed in, “Look at you, thirty years old and throwing a hissy fit because your best friend is happy.”

“She’ll never be happy with him, she can only be happy with me.”

“She hasn’t been happy for the last decade Maya, you’ve been too selfish to see it.” Farkle leaned against the door, “I think you should go now.”

“Where should I go Farkle?”

“AA, Betty Ford, Promises, somewhere, anywhere, get help, find yourself, travel, but whatever you do, leave Riley and Lucas alone.” Farkle took a deep breath and closed the door, locking the deadbolt when he did before turning to Zay.

“You did what you had to do.” Zay placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Thanks man, let’s get back to the wives.”

“I never thought this was going to happen.” Reva stood near Topanga as everyone was gathered under the oak tree in the front yard as Riley and Lucas exchanged vows on the unexpectedly warm Christmas morning.

“I was sure it would’ve happened sooner.” Topanga watched as Riley slipped a ring on Lucas’ finger.

“So, which will we get first, a grandson or granddaughter?” Reva smirked.

“Grandson for sure.” Topanga was confident, “I’m so sure, that I’ll say we make a bet, winner gets to be called Grandma, and gets to pick whatever name the other goes by.”

“Oh, you’re on because those two are going to bless us with a Granddaughter first.” The two mothers shook on it just as Riley and Lucas kissed.

“What did you just do?” Cory gasped to Topanga, “You’re going to end up called Birdie and I’m gonna be Pappy Cory.”

Topanga rolled her eyes, “Honey that is ridiculous.”

Five years later

Riley stood by the bedroom window, gently soothing her daughter Cora as she looked out at the ranch, “Out far off in the distance is the Christmas Tree farm, we’re opening for sales this November.”

The bedroom door opened, “The twins are down Persephone and JB are asleep, and I regret ever showing them Frozen.”

“The sky’s awake, still right?” Riley smirked as she put Cora in the crib before laying down on the bed next to her husband.

“Something like that why did I ever show them that movie?” he groaned before rolling onto his side, “How’s our little Princess?”

“Sleeping now.” Riley sighed moving closer to him, “think she’s ready to meet her cousins tomorrow?”

“I think she’s as ready to meet Albert Minkus, Jade Babineaux, and Archie Matthews.” Lucas chuckled, “Well as ready as anyone could be.”

“True.” Riley’s eyes fluttered shut, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Making my dreams come true.” She took his hand, feeling the comfort of his fingers slipping between hers.

“Then I have to thank you for that as well.” He kissed her forehead, “Get some sleep honey, I’ll get Cora when she wakes up first, okay.”

“Thank you. Just don’t sneak a piece of that sheet cake, it’s for the bake-off tomorrow at church.” She mumbled before falling asleep.

Lucas watched as Riley drifted off, before he slipped out of bed and sat next to the crib watching his youngest child sleeping.

When Cora woke up Lucas gathered her quickly, “hey Princess, you hungry, let’s get you some formula and let Mommy sleep a little bit.”

Cora’s eyes were wide as Lucas spoke, cradling her as he took her downstairs to the kitchen.

“You have the best Mommy in the world, and she makes the best sheet cake in the county, maybe the state, when you’re older you’ll get to know what I mean.” He told her as he took the prepared bottle from the fridge and put in the warmer. “Your older sister and brother, they’re a little jealous of you since you get so much of Mommy’s attention, but you know what I have a feeling you little Cora Harper Friar are going to be a Daddy’s girl.”

Riley stood by the kitchen door watching her husband, “You sure about that?”

“Yes” he looked to her, “You can go back to bed, I’ve got her.”

“I know, but I’m hungry.” Riley opened the fridge and took out a container from the back and taking out a sandwich.”

“You know what goes really well with sandwiches?” Lucas wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Riley opened the fridge and dug out another container sliding it to him across the counter, “You win, I put that aside for you.”

“See I told you best Mommy.” Lucas looked down to Cora.

Riley came over, taking Cora from him, “Come to Mommy, Daddy is about to be in Chocolate heaven.”

Lucas took the bottle from the warmer and tested it, “Princess Cora is hungry, cake can wait.”

“Oh, we found his soft spot, cake can wait for you, cake can’t even wait for Mommy.” Riley put Cora back in Lucas’ arms as he began to feed her, watching while she ate her sandwich.

“Is this how you saw us, when you would dream about us, or fantasize about our life together?” He watched as Cora drank down her formula.

“Sort of, yeah, this is what I saw for us in a way.”

“Good, this is how I saw us as well.”

“The twins were a surprise.” Riley admitted as she pulled a clean fork out from the drawer, “but, I wouldn’t have it any other way. You, me, the kids, the ranch, the Christmas Trees, it’s everything I could’ve ever wished for.”

Lucas gave her a quick peck on the lips before he saw her lean over and take a bite of the cake, “Hey!”

Riley smirked, “You knew we’d share.”

Lucas moved Cora to burp her as he watched his wife, “Of course, I knew.”

“Here” She took a forkful of cake and brought it to his lips watching as he took the bite. “Good boy, you’re such a good eater.”

Lucas smirked as he chewed, “Well your award-winning sheet cake how could I not be.”

“Come on Cora, let’s get back to bed, we have a busy and exciting day tomorrow.” Riley took her daughter in her arms, “Let’s give Daddy some quiet time, while we get some sleep.”

“I had enough quiet time while I watched you both sleeping.” He confessed, “I’m going to check on Persephone, and then on JB and come to bed after I clean up down here.”

“Thank you, I’ll save space for you on the bed.”

Lucas smiled as he watched them go up the stairs, some days he couldn’t believe it was all real, after all the years of aching for each other, they were here, married, parents, a real wish come true.

When he cleaned up he stepped out onto the back porch, looking up at the clear night sky, stepping out into the backyard, looking up as Riley stood in the window getting Cora to sleep, thankful for everything they had, everything they had been through, and everything yet to come.