mr wills

ok but can we talk about how Mr Campbell was perfectly willing to straight up murder little Davey?

or how Jasper’s ghost is stranded on the same island as Mr Campbell’s old vacation home??

or how about the fact that he preforms surgery and fucked up experiments?

No i’m not implying anything but the whole thing is just 👀👀👀 👀👀👀


the facts:

- Mr Campbell is willing to murder children for being a witness (about to stab Davey when Jasper fell) 

- Jasper is stuck on spooky island, which also happens to be the summer home of Mr Campbell. Where he also happens to be hiding a torture chamber in said house

- Jasper is deeply disturbed by the torture chamber and the overall island (could be nothing they were all scared bUT STILL)

- Mr Campbell is wanted by the government.

- David can talk happily about his old days with Jasper. DAVID DOESN’T KNOW JASPER’S DEAD.


the only other possibility i can think of is drowning but?? this is a tv show where’s the excitement in that?

Mr. Holland will see you now..

Series: Mr. Holland

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Reader has an interview at Holland Industries

Request by : @grownmanjisoo

Warnings: Swearing cause I swear a lot, you should know this by know haha

Word Count:2,300

A/N: I’m starting this series earlier than I thought cause I couldn’t wait honestly lmao

[Reader’s POV]

   The sound of the alarm stung your ears as it woke you up from your slumber. Your eyes struggling to open as you slammed your hand down on the alarm clock. A few seconds go by and your phone starts buzzing and ringing loudly. Frustratedly you slap stretch to grab your phone.

   Unluckily your body falls off the bed slamming onto the floor. Letting out a defeated sigh you wobble back up grabbing onto your bed for support. You saw your reflection in your closet mirror doors. Hair sticking up like Anna from Frozen. Cringing at the sight you head towards the bathroom.

   Flicking the light on your own reflection scares the fuck out of you. Turning the knob water starts to pour out. Cupping your hands and letting the water gather it you splash it in your face. You sure as hell don’t look like those fake commercials. Water got on the counter and you somewhat look like a wet dog now.

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New Family - Requested

Requested by @tanovic54321 :  Can u do a fluff Sherlock imagine where his gf accompanies him to a family thing & she brings her sons for the first time his family (& him)meet them & slowly people realizes that the two little boys are tiny versions of Sherlock & Mycroft?

Pairing: Sherlock x reader.

Word count: 1,169

Warnings: This is mostly focused on the kids.

A/N: As someone who has lived this kind of situation (as in the kid’s point of view) I figured it would be too much to have many people there, so I reduced it a bit.


It was a big step – a huge step, more likely – for Sherlock and (Y/N)’s relationship. They never expected to get that far and so they decided to keep the kids out of it.

She had two young boys, smart and sympathetic, highly functional kids. Sherlock knew about them and even liked them in spite of having met them only two or three times maximum.

“Are you sure about this?” She stuttered. They were outside her home and the kids were inside. Sherlock wanted to take them all to a family thing.

“Of course I’m sure,” Sherlock assured, acting offended by the question. “I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

“I’m sure the correct word is ‘surer’, Sher.” (Y/N) chuckled.

“Surer sounds stupid.” Sherlock beamed, “Now call the boys and let’s go.”

(Y/N) hesitated but eventually called them. Sherlock noticed how the oldest one was clearly bigger than the other, not only in height but also he was chubbier. The younger one had a curly mess on his head, and he seemed to be skinnier and shyer.

“Michael, Shepherd, remember Mister Holmes?” (Y/N) asked as she pushed the two boys out.

“How do you do?” They both asked in mechanical voices.

“Nice to see you again, lads.” Sherlock greeted back.

“Mommy, is he going to take us to jail?” Shepherd, the younger, inquired.

“No, not at all,” Sherlock replied.

“Obviously,” Michael snapped, “he only takes criminals to jail. If you knew how to properly read, you’d know.”

“Enough, Michael.” (Y/N) warned. The kid shut his mouth but he kept the superiority pose.

“Where are we going, Mister Holmes?” Shepherd continued.

“I’m taking you to my country house to meet my parents and my brother,” Sherlock explained calmly.

“Why?” Shepherd asked.

“Because he’s mommy’s new boyfriend!” Michael huffed.

Shepherd gasped and tried to act surprised. Before (Y/N) could reply, Shep punched Michael’s arm.

“We had to keep it secret!” Shepherd cried.

“Enough!” (Y/N) split them. “Are you sure you want to take them?”

Sherlock giggled warmly. “Yes, my mother will love them.”

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Hogwarts Houses as Once Upon a Time Characters
  • for anon
  • Gryffindor: Robin Hood (selfless, courageous, willing to give people a chance)
  • Slytherin: Rumplestiltskin / Mr. Gold (protective, cunning, willing to do anything to get what he wants)
  • Ravenclaw: Henry (imaginative, creative, wise beyond his age)
  • Hufflepuff: Emma Swan (acts because it's the right thing to do, not because it's heroic)
Owned - pt 9

Originally posted by hopeatuuli

The doctor wanted to see you both today, as soon as possible. Both of you, confused and silent on the way there.

You almost fell asleep once again in his arms until the driver announced that you were five minutes away.

“Good morning Doctor Lu, is everything okay?” Namjoon asked her.

“We hope so. I just got the test results back.” She flipped through some papers and circled a few words. “You’re not pregnant Mrs. Kim but these tests show signs of a serious issue.”

“How serious?” Namjoon questioned.

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Who’s the Boss now? (ft. Jimin)
  • Word count: 2593


I changed the idea a bit, hope you’ll be satisfied anyway :)

“Mr. Park. We have to go.” You said out loud after peeking into your boss’ office.

He raised his head from the papers right away and nodded, gathering some important documents to put into his briefcase. In the meantime, you fixed your tight, black skirt to make sure that it covers a bigger part of your legs. With the corner of your eye you noticed your boss glancing at you, while you were busy trying to look decent enough for a business meeting.

An important conference was being held in the company you were a secretary in. Back a few days ago your boss, Mr. Park, asked you to reserve some time for today to keep him company and make a protocol at the meeting. Especially for this occasion, you picked your outfit very carefully. From what you’ve gotten to know, a few important personas were invited to attend the meeting, so you had no other choice, but to represent your company well along with your boss.

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You Serious?

Summary: Lately you’ve been behaving quite weird and Sherlock has realised that. One day, the detective decides to make some deductions and discovers that you are pregnant, which is a thing you cannot believe.

Request: Imagine in which Sherlock deduces that you’re pregnant (kind of like at John and Mary’s wedding)

Can I get some fluffy Sherlock x reader for 8? Thanks!

Prompt: “You are a stupid moron. But you’re my stupid moron.”

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Title: ‘You Serious?’

Content: Fluff / Mentions of pregnancy

Warning: Mild swearing.

Word count: 1.475

A/N: Ok, to be honest this was hard to write, I don’t know why. Anyway, when I had to re-read it, I found it quite fluffy and nice. Hope you like it.

*gif not mine

“For the last time, William Sherlock Scott Holmes; it’s your bloody turn!” You shouted from the living room, expecting your husband to get out from the kitchen with two cups of tea and resume the game. “You know, it doesn’t take a genius like you – if that’s what you want to be compared with - to make some tea. Even, Mrs. Hudson knows and to be fair, hers is better.”

“Language,” he grumbled, walking into the room while holding two cuppas. The fact that Sherlock made some tea was actually a miracle since the only time he did it was when he was starving or when Moriarty came around. “So, where were we?” He asked sitting down on his armchair, making himself comfortable as he handed you your cup of tea. “Alright,” he smiled, clasped his hands and leaned towards the game board. His eyes narrowed and began bumping from one side to another, observing each figure’s place. “Got you,” you said and looked at you.

You shook your head and blinked a several times unable to understand how he did he knew it. Sherlock Holmes was the best detective on his field but he was the worst board game player so it really surprised you. “What?”

“If an opponent repeatedly uses the same item in suggestions, whether it’s a location, weapon, or character, it probably means nobody else can disprove that item. You’ve made three suggestions in a row about the revolver, chances are very good that the revolver is either the murder weapon or in your hand. So it’s in yours,” he said and you glared at him. “The game’s over,” he laid back on the backrest of his chair and took a sip of his cup.

“No. Wait, what?” That’s impossible,” you complained making him laugh in amusement. “This is not funny, Sherlock. You’re supposed to lose!” You said, he lowered his cuppa and as he had seen that coming, he sighed. “By the way this tea is horrible,” you stuck your tongue out and put the cup down on coffee table. “My God, Sherlock. You should better learn how to prepare tea as soon as possible,” you claimed while standing up from your chair, which once used to be John’s. Sherlock looked at you in suspicion, there was something wrong with you and he didn’t know what.

“Where are you going?” He asked you as his shiny eyes watched you head to the bedroom. Well, the answer was obvious but he wanted to know why.

“Need some sleep. It’s been a tiring day,” your voice coming from the bedroom.

The detective frowned and quickly glanced at his watch. “It’s only four p.m. Why the hell would you be tired?” He inquired but there was no answer at all, just silence. Wondering what could be happening with you, he stood up on his feet and walked towards the bedroom. He gradually opened the door and peered into the room, he saw you lying on the bed. “Y/N?” He muttered, you didn’t respond. “Great,” he said through gritted teeth.

It took just a doorbell ring to make Sherlock’s gaze turn away from you. The detective trudged towards the living room with a grin on his face hoping it was John with another client but no, it was not.

“For God’s sake!” He exclaimed but then pulled a face when he realize you were sleeping. “What are you two doing here?” He asked murmuring his parents in disbelief. To be fair, Mr. And Mrs Holmes didn’t use to visit you but that day seemed to be the exception. “You’ve never said you would pay a visit,” he said and walked to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

Mr. Holmes, who was standing by the window, half-turned to his son as replied, “Well, you never visit us, though.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and returned to the room with the tea set. “So, is she working?” The detective looked at his father in confusion. “Y/N. Is she working? Where is she, Sherlock?”

“Er…” he hesitated. He didn’t find the right words to explain what was going on since he didn’t understand it either. He scratched his neck for a couple of seconds. “She’s sleeping,” he blurted out and gave him a small smile.

Mrs. Holmes, whom was sitting on your armchair saw the picture of your wedding day on the small table and took it. She smiled. Sherlock, finally, sat down on his black leather chair and sighed. “Oh, look at my boy,” she said as she showed the photography to the two men in the room. “He’s a grown man now. Oh, Sherlock,” she smiled tenderly.

Sherlock swallowed a string of profanities, stood up and took up the picture from his mother’s hands, placing it in one of the shelves at the corner afterwards. He began pacing around the room trying to find an answer to your strange behaviour. His parents’ eyes were on him, she was worried about him.

“Sherlock, is everything alright, dear?” She asked.

He stopped and looked at her. “No,” he abruptly replied. “Nothing’s right.”

Mrs. Holmes looked at her husband, who shrugged. “What’s then, Sherlock? What’s wrong?”

The sociopath trailed his hands from his face to his hair desperately. His breath was unsteady and his heart was racing. “What am I supposed to do?” He turned to his father and helplessly asked.

“Well, you can start explaining all this fuss, if you want to,” you said making every single word you uttered seem charged with import and authority as you walk into the living room with your arms folded. Your in-laws looked at you surprised. “I could expect so much worse from you, Sherlock but not in front of your parents. What’s the matter?” You finally asked.

The sociopath started to mumble meaningless gibberish. You frowned as reaction. Sherlock scanned you up and down trying to analyze all you better. He got a bit closer to you and stretched his hands. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said and you cocked your eyebrows; “but there’s something wrong with you.”

“Sorry, what?” You said while laughing. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Sherlock. What are you talking about?”

The detective confused, sighed. The high functioning sociopath turned around his gaze to his mother and then back to you. His eyes widened and his heart was thunderously beating as he realized everything fit perfectly in its place. You were pregnant. How could he not see that? “Sherlock, son,” Mr. Holmes called and got closer to him.

Sherlock finger pointed at you, you frowned. “You!”

“Me?” You inquired.

“Yes, you. If I’m not wrong, you get winded every single time you go up the stairs. Oh, and how about yesterday? You didn’t even make it through one page of your book last night before falling asleep. You’re getting tired quickly,” he pointed out.

You stopped him for a second. “Sherlock, what’s going on?”

“I should not forget about your head and back aches. You had a bunch of them, am I right?” he paused and you nodded awkwardly not knowing what was he talking about. “Let’s talk about all the times you lost your temper without much provocation. To be honest, you were fastidious,” he commented and you gasped. “You’re starving right now, aren’t you?  Increased appetite, I suppose. Plus, the tea I made today was good; it was just a change of taste perception,” he added and your brows snapped together as you realized everything he was saying was true. “And I should add that today you’ve woken up earlier to go to the-” his voice trailed off when his mother interrupted him.

“Sherlock, dear, what are you trying to imply?” Mrs. Holmes willed the despair out of her voice as looked at him concerned at him.

“Oh, God!” he yelled while waving his hands in the air. As soon as your eyes met, his face went straight and nervous. “You’re pregnant,” he said in a soothing voice after a moment of hesitation.

Tears began shimmering in your eyes and your mouth fell open, “You serious?” Instead of replying, a corner of his mouth slowly turned up. You let a soft chuckle out and when you least expected it you were being hugged by your mother-in-law, who was was jumping of happiness. Your eyes never leaving Sherlock’s. When Mrs. Holmes released you, you bit your lip.

“What?” He asked and confusion transformed his face as he watched you walking towards him.

You are a stupid moron, Sherlock Holmes! But you’re my stupid moron,” you sang as he took you in his arms. “Why do you always have to spoil the news? Why couldn’t you wait until I knew so I could tell you?”

“You can’t expect that coming from me, you know it,” he informed, looked you in the eyes and kissed you on your forehead.


Originally posted by diablito666

“Did you guys see that?” One of your friends asked as something whizzed through the sky over head.

“What was it?” You called, grabbing the little pots of soil samples as the rest of your friends hurried out of the wooded area in time to watch something huge fall from the sky with a resounding boom.

The group looked at each other before packing up your kit and slowly making your way to an abandoned building that was in the thick of the woods. Everyone froze when the huge green lump curled on the grip moved and roared at you, naturally the entire group screamed until it was obvious that you’d both scared each other.

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“Everyone has a purpose, every action has a meaning. I believe in destiny. There must be a reason that I am as I am. There must be.” - Robin Williams

Rest in peace to this man who brought me light in my darkest of days and always reminded me how to laugh or smile. Such a talented man who I will forever owe ♡

Save Me. (Yoongi x Reader) PART 7.

“It swallowed me, this lunatic. Please save me tonight. Within this childish madness, you will save me tonight.” - [“Save Me” - BTS]

Summary: It was an unprecedented love that bloomed within the halls of your high school, until secret words were overheard, and shattered the budding romance. It changed your life forever, leading you down a path you had never thought you would be on– training to become a secret agent. You chose it to escape Yoongi and the results of how things ended between you two, but as fate would have it, that very same choice ended up leading you right back to him. Will you be able to save your clients and solve mysteries together despite your history? Will you be able to save each other? Will you able to save yourself…from yourself?    

Yoongi x Reader (ft. Jin & all the other BTS members)

Secret Agent AU

Mystery, Action, Angst, & Fluff (contains some violence, mentions of murder, death, harassment, and bullying)

PARTS: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 (Finale) | Bonus: The Letter

A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner everyone <3 Thanks for your patience xD Apparently my free weekend, ended up with an impromptu random family friend of my dad’s inviting themselves over to our house, so we have to go tour them around today (sigh). So I banged out this update x_x and I wanted to post it right away! I’ll probably be answering messages and inboxes during the long car ride. I can’t wait! I missed you all! Enjoy :)

Originally posted by mochixhamster

           The entire crowd reacted with a mixture of gasps and squeals.

           "Um… give us a second.“ You chuckled nervously.

           You tugged at Yoongi’s hand, turning him towards you, and whispered frantically, "What do you think you’re doing?”

           "You can’t go with him.“ Yoongi stated.

           "Why not?”

           "What if he’s… you know?“

           "All the more reason to go with him!” You argued.

           "Absolutely not. He could take you to some secluded area and–“

           "We’re not doing this right now, Min Yoonji.” You hissed.

           "I got this. Don’t worry.“

           "What do you –”

           "We both have dates already. That’s why.“ Yoongi turned around, displaying his brightest smile.

           Surprisingly, there was a collection of disappointed "Aww’s” from the crowd, to which you raised an eyebrow towards them questionably.

           "Oh, I had no idea.“ Prez smiled warmly. "Boyfriend?”

           "Um…just an old friend.“ You blushed, making it up as you went. "I didn’t think anyone would ask me at first…so I had asked him to come along…”

           "Too bad.“ Prez chuckled. "Definitely save a dance or two for me then.”

           "I’m so sorry.“ You handed the flowers back, a bit disheartened. But Prez wrapped his fingers around yours and nudged the flowers towards you.

           "Don’t be. These flowers were yours regardless of your answer. I’ve been wanting to give you something like this for awhile now.” he smiled warmly.

           You couldn’t hide your giddy grin. “I love them.”

           Prez’s stare lingered on you for a few more seconds than Yoongi liked, but he held it in because your expression of absolute happiness and gratefulness hindered him from acting selfishly. Who was he to stop your face from looking like that? All the while, he was slowly being reminded of all the things he didn’t do for you. Why had you stayed with him for so long back then?

           "I’ll see you around, Y/N.“ Prez waved and the crowd dispersed with him.

           You continued to play around with the flowers lovingly, while Yoongi was submerged in his own vortex of dark thoughts. You noticed his peculiar silence and looked up to catch him with his concentrated, blank expression, which always meant he was thinking too hard about something.

           "Yah.” You poked his forehead. “Why did you skip practice to come all the way here?”

           He blinked and glanced at you in front of him. “I just…I just…”

           I was jealous and selfish.

           The words fell dull at the tip of his tongue.

           "You were right anyway.“ You shrugged, buying his fake excuse for stopping you earlier. "It’s probably for the best I didn’t get carried away with my desire to go to a dance with a date for once.”

           Yoongi shut his eyes. He was supposed to have asked you back then, but you two had broken up before the dance, then you had completely disappeared from his life soon after.

           "Do you not feel good?“ Your hand was at his forehead. "Let’s take you to Mr. Park.”

           Yoongi nodded, willing to use any lame reason to have all your attention on him for any amount of time.

           "You really must not be feeling well. You’re not making any snarky comments. Come on.“ You held onto his hand. "Ji– Mr. Park wanted to talk to us anyway. This is perfect.”

           Yoongi clasped your hand tighter, reveling in the feeling once again. He needed to pull himself together. No good can come from his clouded mind, especially with a mission as dangerous as this one.

           Just for a little while. Just for a few moments. He wanted to be Min Yoongi and Y/N. Not secret agents. Not students. Not anyone, but yourselves.

           But this would have to suffice for now.

           You knocked brightly on Jimin’s office door, despite the sign reading “Do Not Disturb”. But if you knew Jimin, he had installed cameras to monitor the outside of his office and was doing so at the moment.

           "Y/N. Yoonji.“ He welcomed you two in fake pretense, in case anyone passed by. "Thanks for coming. How’re your injuries from the incident?”

           As soon as the door shut though, Jimin’s demeanor turned grim. It sent shivers down your spine, and apparently Yoongi’s too because he tightened his grip on your hand, pulling you closer.

           "This mission is a lot more complicated and dangerous than we had anticipated.“ he solemnly stated.

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Summary: If Lex Luthor had actually killed Dick during Forever Evil with the batfamily included! (Except for Damian, sadly for he is still dead. </3 )

I just wanted to dedicate this to @camsthisky! Reading all of her batfamily fanfics has really inspired me to start writing some of my own. I’m very much a beginner, but hopeful this isn’t too bad! (Also, I think it’s about time CamsthiSky get the angst served to her instead! ~Muhahaha~)


“I’m sorry Bat – Bruce. It had to be done.”


“You, sick bastard!”


“Ms. Kyle, now is not the time for name calling. There are more pressing matters to attend to.”


Pressing matters! You just murdered a child!”


“A twenty-six-year-old is hardly a child.”


“What gave you the right to make that kind of decision!”


“Simple, the lives of the main outweigh the life of the few.”


“This was a rescue mission Luthor!”


“For you maybe. For me, it was to stop the Crime Syndicate, and to ensure the preservation of Batman’s life.”


Preserva— What the fuck does that mean?!”


“Fine, let me rephrase this in simple terms for your feeble mind to comprehend.”


“We are in a state of global crisis.”


“Three quarters of our superhero population has vanished.”


“And one, of the two minds left on Earth that are capable of strategically putting an end to this nonsense, decided to embark on a suicide mission.”

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Loved You First (Part 3)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: The reader just returned from a long trip abroad, only to discover her best friend, Peggy Carter, is engaged to none other than her heartbreakingly beautiful ex-boyfriend, Bucky Barnes. (Modern au!)

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: none

A/n: Me actually posting something: a concept. Thank you for sticking around I love y’all :))

Tags:  @minervaem @imaginingbucky @buchananbarnestrash@illuminationunknown @aweways @aboxinthestars @marvel-fanfiction @alwayshave-faith @kapolisradomthoughts @johnmurphys-sass @captainmqmeep @iamwarrenspeace @missmalfoy1703 @allyp1023@fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl @38leticia @love-dria @archer-whovian-violinist @rockintensse @awwtommo @heytherepartner @theloveablesociopath @gerardwayisapotato @stevnsbucks @littlenerdgirl16

Part 1 | Part 2

Originally posted by seabasschino

A week went by, and you managed to push your conflicting thoughts about Bucky to the back of your mind. You spent a lot of your time working with Peggy to plan her wedding. The two of you looked at floral arrangements, bridesmaid dresses, and different venues. Bucky was largely absent, as he had to fly to Chicago for a business trip.

“(Y/n), what do you think about this one?” Peggy asked, gesturing toward a tall vase with dahlias and hydrangeas peeking out of the top. You wrinkled your nose.

“It’s too tall,” you mused. “Your guests should be able to see each other over the centerpieces.” You ran your index finger over a shiny leaf. The two of you continued to walk around the shop, smelling and admiring the multitude of different centerpieces. As you rounded a corner, Peggy stopped, her hand latching onto your forearm.

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Conflict of Interest

Alright, folks, it’s been awhile and I’m rusty, so forgive me this self-indulgent fic drawing on the unnecessary research I’ve done recently for prosecutorial conflicts of interest.

E/R, lawyer AU, Modern AU, established relationship (of sorts).

“Your Honor, can we meet in chambers?”

Judge Fauchelevent sighed and just managed to avoid pinching the bridge of her nose. “Mr. Enjolras,” she said, drawing out the last syllable as an exaggerated sigh. “We’ve barely begun the arraignment. What is so important that it can’t even wait until the State brings forward charges?”

Enjolras straightened his tie, the red standing out starkly against his crisp white shirt and $2,000 suit, far nicer than the usual public defender could even consider affording. “I’d be happy to discuss it with Your Honor in chambers,” he said carefully.

Cosette rolled her eyes. “Approach the bench,” she ordered, watching as Enjolras stalked up to the bench while he conspicuously avoided glancing at the less well-dressed Assistant Defense Attorney who was taking his time ambling forward. “Mr. Enjolras,” Cosette said, a warning edge to her voice, “I’m sure whatever objection you want to raise on behalf of your client can wait until after the arraignment.”

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Bedtime Stories - PART 2


Hello wonderful people! could one of you write some interaction between the Granda Jamie and/or Grannie Claire and their grandkids?

Bedtime Stories: Part Two.

Escape seemed impossible now and she gritted her teeth as Randall took hold of her and - with one firm bow to the women who were gathering their wits now in readiness for their own husbands - escorted her from the room.

For too long she had idled and her chance of freedom had disappeared as fast as it had arrived.

The journey home was melancholy to say the least. Randall paid her no mind as the grey/green countryside of Scotland passed by the windows of their carriage. Part of her ached to open the doors and just roll out into the forests beyond, in the hopes that she could fade into the idyllic scenery never to be seen again. But Randall would find her. He would search until he had her back in his *care* and then he would see that she paid for it.

As the gates closed behind the carriage, the large wrought iron frames shuddering and clunking into place, Claire wrapped her arms around her belly as she tried to hold back the dread. Randall gave a curt nod to Fraser as his strong hand wrapped around her arm, dragging her up into the main house. Slamming the door behind him he turned on Claire, white hot rage flaring across his face.

Claire stumbled backwards, her gaze hard as she kept eye contact.

“You know the rules, Claire. They’re simple. You don’t converse with the staff. Do you hear me!” He bellowed, causing Claire’s heart to lurch in her chest as she tried to keep her composure. “The next time you disobey, I’ll have him trussed up and flogged - right in front of you. Do you understand? He works *for me*, and his instructions are very clear. As are yours.”

“I-I…” she began, fear spiking at the thought of Fraser being hurt because of her, “it was me, not him. He knew not too but I started it. I touched him…”

Randall’s cheeks pulsed with blood, the red pouring across his face as he took one step towards Claire, his hand raised as if to slap her. Then as quickly as it came, it vanished and a scary smile crossed his face. Something in him had snapped, the prospect of her implicating herself maybe, but it intensified the panic within her as she fumbled with the fabric of her skirts, her breath coming in short, sharp pants as she awaited her fate.

“Get upstairs, Claire,” he said with marked calmness, “remove your dress and your shift and lie face forward on the bed. I said there would be consequences…”

– — –

Echoes of soft splashes reverberated around her half empty room as Claire curled herself into a small ball, her tears dripping onto the cold stone floor. Her back, arse and legs still ached, the healing wounds itching where he’d taken his belt to her over and over again. He’d enjoyed it, the sounds of the leather hitting her pliant flesh. He’d loved hearing her protests, he’d even pushed the windows open as far as he could to allow the sound of her agony to flow into the night. Randall had wanted Fraser to hear her cries of anguish as he’d tanned her hide for her indiscretions. It was a warning. Heed the rules, or feel the lash.

The irons we no longer metaphorical, though they weren’t needed to hold her in a room that was already so well locked and guarded. It was her punishment. No longer could she walk. No longer could she open the window to smell the scent of the outdoors. Her meals came to her now, the only light in the darkness. But it consisted of stale bread and cheese with a tiny amount of mead to keep her from dying form thirst.

Randall had left the property on business, and his strict instructions were that Claire was to be kept -alone- with her shackles until he returned.

Unable to buoy herself any longer, Claire sobbed, her cold hands wrapping solidly around her pillow as day turned into night and into day once more. Unsure as to how long Randall would be away for, she stopped even paying attention to the days, choosing instead to sleep as much as she could.

A distinct clunk woke her as the moonlight filtered in through the closed windows. Sitting up in bed, she rattled the chains that bound her feet to the floor, the heavy metal resting uncomfortably over the skin of her ankles.

The guard didn’t say a word as he entered, unlocked her shackles and left, leaving the door to her cell wide open. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Claire did a double take. It was dark, unnaturally so since thick boards covered the bottom of the windows now, and her eyes were taking some time to adjust. But as they did, she could see that she wasn’t wrong.

Groping for something more to cover herself with, Claire gripped the hooded robe, her heart pounding out an uneven rhythm as she counted the number of ways that this could be a trap.

She didn’t care now though. Still raw from her beating, she saw no other way. If she stayed she might never encounter such an opportunity again.

Creeping through the deathly silence, Claire made her way down and through the servant’s quarters. She didn’t want to use the front door just in case someone -anyone- was watching. Nobody appeared to be around. It was late and the master wasn’t home to care for, so it was likely that all of the staff were fast asleep by now.

Hobbling out into the fresh evening air, Claire made straight for the stables, hoping to God and anyone else who might listen that Fraser was still in Randall’s employ. Opening the groom’s bed chamber doors, she slid inside, pulling the hood closer around her face as she crept through the sleeping lads looking out for the splash of red that might be amongst them.

He was there, his back turned as he bent forwards. Still awake, Fraser was seemingly undoing the laces on his boots as if to ready himself for sleep, but Claire could see the tense set of his shoulders - as if he had been waiting for something else entirely. Turning his head, Claire could see his profile as a smile lit his previously sombre features.

“You came,” he whispered as he groped in the dark for his jacket.

“It was you?” She replied, awe lacing her tone as she crawled onto the bunk beside him.

“Aye, weel, me and another but I willna tell ye who fer now.”

“We have to go then? Quickly?” Claire said, her hand reaching for his across the scratchy sheets.

“Aye, we do. But I’m ready.” Pulling her to her feet, Fraser ducked under the low beams as he tugged her in the direction of the barn, away from the sleeping stable hands. “We canna go out the main gate because of the watch Randall has posted there at nights - but there is a way through the woods and into the dark beyond, ken?”

Claire nodded, gooseflesh prickling on her arms as adrenaline filled her from head to toe. “With horses?” She managed to ask, her mouth dry from nervous joy as her eyes darted around the full stable.

“Oh aye, we wouldna get verra far on foot and we need to make it to the port by sun-up to catch the boat.”


“O’ course, mistress,” he quipped with a jovial glint in his eye, “if we dinna awa’ Randall would catch us, nay doubt.”

“Where would we go?” She whispered, her hope igniting once more.

“France. I have relatives there. My godfather has procured us safe passage. If yer willing, mistress Claire?” His eyes twinkled and he glanced quickly over her as if to check her for ill-health before chivvying her away. 

Claire nodded, her head bobbing up and down fast enough to cause it to spin and her eyes to unfocus. “Yes, Mr Fraser. I’m willing. Please, take me away.”

Hoisting her up onto one of the larger stallions, Fraser pulled himself up behind her and moved a stray hair from her cheek. Pushing the horse forwards, he brought him out and led him down the bank that led off Randall’s property. As he rode, Fraser slid one hand around Claire’s waist, holding tight onto the reins as the steady gait of the horse rocked them closer and closer.

He waited until they were safely away from any other staff that might stop them, clear of the house and the prison that Claire had been stashed away in, before speaking again. Shifting the material of her hood, he brought his mouth to her ear, bringing her out of her daze before speaking to her in a hushed whisper. “…and it’s Jamie, Claire. Mr Fraser was my father, but ye can call me Jamie.”

“Nice to meet your acquaintance, Jamie,” Claire smiled as she spoke, her hand coming to rest on his atop the reins as they travelled through the underbrush.

“Aye, finally. Get ready though, Claire,” he quipped, his tone light and airy now that they were away from danger, “we’re going to have to ride hard and fast to make it to the port. Are ye ready?”

“Yes,” Claire said, her thighs clenching around the saddle as she felt the horse jump beneath her.

Clicking his tongue, Jamie pushed his heels into the stallions sides as the pair galloped off into the dense forest beyond, the deep inky green swallowing them whole as the night rolled onward.

“…and so,” Claire muttered, her eyelids drooping as she yawned, leaned down and kissed Jemmy and Mandy on their foreheads - one by one, “they lived happily ever after.”

Standing, Claire wiped the sleep from her eyes as she smiled down over her grandchildren. The story remained mostly the same for them. An evil king holding the poor lassie hostage and the brave prince who rescued her from a life of solitude and pain. But she retracted the beating…and hers and Jamie’s names for the sake of fiction. 

But neither Mandy or Jem were daft.

“I’m sae glad,” Mandy yawned, turning over as she pulled the blankets right up to her nose and burrowed beneath her covers, “that granda rescued ye, Grannie Claire. I love ye both.”

Claire smiled, tears welling in her eyes as she tip-toed backwards and closed the door with a click.

Jamie came up behind her, his solid weight resting against her back as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Abed, are they?” He crooned, his nose nuzzling against the portion of skin they lay exposed beneath her ear.

“Yes, both fast now.” Claire murmured in return, her heart filled with love as Jamie kissed her softly.

“Christ I love ye, my sassenach,” he whispered, using the nickname he’d bestowed upon her from the moment they’d set foot upon that ship to France. “I loved ye then…from afar, until I managed to steal you away. And I love ye now more than ever.”

Sliding his hands beneath her legs he hoisted her into his arms and carried her off to their own chambers, his warmth surrounding her like a wonderfully fluffy blanket. “As I love you, Jamie Fraser. Blood of my blood,”

“Bone of my bone,” he echoed repeating their wedding vows as he closed the door to their chambers, sealing them both off from the outside world and any further disturbance.

Until their lives shall be done…



- Always holds you really close when you cuddle.
- Let’s you borrow his car at almost anytime.
- If someone shouts something inappropriate at you, he will kindly punch them in the face.
- He knows all your favourite things and loves to surprise you with them.
- If at it’s 2am, or 3am, or 4am, or anytime at all and you’re feeling sad, he will come to you in a heartbeat and he will do everything he can to make the bad things go away.
- Doesn’t mind you trying out new makeup techniques on him.
- Being on the phone for hours and hours just doing your own thing and not really talking, but still feeling each other’s presence.
- Your shared hamster, Mr. Hamster.
- He’s always willing to do the washing up. And the cooking. And the cleaning.
- Someone to always laugh at your jokes who also somehow always manages to make you laugh at his.
-Often being nicknamed the cutest couple in Rosewood.
- Being so close with his little sister, Ali, that the pair of you even share clothes.
- Feeling completely loved and accepted for who you are, and learning what it means to love and accept someone for who they are.

- Dealing with the fact that he often goes off the radar for hours or days, it’s even happened for a week before.
- Sometimes he can be ridiculously selfish for no apparent reason.
- Feeling so useless when you can’t help him through a depressive episode, even though you know it’s nobody’s fault and you can’t fix him.
- Explosive arguments.
- Knowing his and his family’s past and finding it hard to trust him completely. 
- Spending so much time together that sometimes (albeit rarely) you get sick of one another and have dumb arguments.
- But also sometimes going through huge periods of not seeing each other and missing him so much you want to cry.
- Having a hard time trying to get your friends to trust him.
- Being unsure what to say when he feels down about the death of his mother. You hug him and hold him close, but it’s hard knowing there’s a deep deep pain in him that you can’t help.

Paperworks (Divorce Papers: A Liam Payne Imagine Part 3)

Hello lovlies! Sorry for the delay. I was sick for the past few days so I couldn’t think straight. 

This is part 3 of my divorce series. 

Part 1
Part 2



I can’t even tell what date it was.

Everyday, I’d get up and make breakfast for the kids, dress them, and bring them to school. I’d come home to do work-related stuff and daily chores. I asked for permission from my boss if it were possible to work from home. Luckily, we just finished a huge project so working from home was possible. By 3pm, I’d get ready and pick the kids up from school. Getting home, I’d help them do homework and start on dinner after. I’d feed them, bathe them, and put them to sleep. I’d wash the dishes, prepare to sleep and sleep. The cycle repeats throughout Monday to Friday.

But not today. Today, I knew it what date it was.

Today was the day I’d meet up with Liam and our lawyers to finalize the paperworks for the divorce.

I dread today.


I sat beside my lawyer, with both Liam and his lawyer across me. This has been the first time that I’ve seen him since I signed the draft of the divorce in front of him.

To say that he looked terrible was an understatement. His hair was all over the place, which was unlike him at all. He had dark bags under his bloodshot eyes, and he didn’t even take the time to dress decently for today’s meeting. He just wasn’t himself.

I’d admit that it made me sad to see him like this. There’s a part of me that wants to just forget everything and hug him until he feels better. On the other hand, there’s that part of me that was happy to see him suffer like this. It made me feel relieved that it wasn’t just me who was affected by the actions he had done.

But whatever happens, he did this to himself.

“Good day Ms. Y/L/N, I’m Andrew Lim, Mr. Liam Payne’s divorce attorney. Thank you for allowing us to meet you today. I’ve already talked to Ms. Danna, your lawyer, regarding the conditions. And we assure you, as soon as you  and Mr. Payne agree to the conditions and sign these papers today, it’ll be all over sooner.” He said.

I don’t like him. I thought. It may be the fact that he was the one taking care of ending my marriage or was it just his cheery tone during this dreadful day.

Maybe a bit of both. I thought again.

“To start things off, Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Payne is willing to name the house and lot completely to you. You can continue living there with the children while Mr. Payne will be the one who moves out.” He started. I knew that if I opened my mouth to talk that my voice would break, so all that I could do was nod.

“Mr. Payne will also provide financial care for you and your children. And he’d also like it if he’d be able to see the kid whenever he wanted and if it were possible to have them during Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays.” He continued.

“Of course, they’re his kids as well.” I said without even looking up. He said a few more conditions then ended it by closing the stack of papers.

“If everything is ok for both parties, we can get to the signing and it’ll all be over in no time.” Andrew said. Once again, all I did was nod my head.

Andrew first handed me the stack of papers. My lawyer pointed out which parts I should sign. Halfway through the stack, I got the courage to look up. I may be mistaken, but I could see regret and fear written all over his face. I thought nothing of it and continued signing the papers.

As I was nearing the end of the stack, a hand stopped mine halfway my signature. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Stop.” was all he said.

“Let go, Liam.” I said, not having the courage to look up once more.

“I can’t. Stop this. Void the papers, we won’t need it anymore.” Liam said, directing his words to both our lawyers.

“If you’re both unsure of this, we could do this some other time. Just give us a call.” My lawyer said.

“No.” I said, standing up. Shock was now written on his face.

“File the divorce. We’ll be going through with it.” I said as I sat back down and signed the last page where my signature was needed.

“Y/N, please. I’m sorry. Don’t do this. We can go home and pretend this never happened.” He said, taking my hands for him to hold on.

“It’s already happening Liam. I never wanted this and yet you insisted that we ‘needed’ this.” I said, tears now starting to pool on my eyes. As I was about to continue, he dropped on both of his knees and started talking.

“I can’t live without you. I can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry for what I did.” He said, placing his forehead on my stomach. “I want to continue living in a home with my family. You, the kids… you are my family. I can’t live knowing that I let go of the love of my life just because of a stupid abrupt decision.”

“I said this before and I’ll say it again. You wanted this, I didn’t. But you insisted that it was the right thing to do. I just accepted it because you already made up your kind. And now, I’ve made up mine.”

“Let me change it, please. I changed mine and I’ll do everything to regain your trust to be able to change yours too. Please.” He said. 

“I’ve signed the papers. I’ll leave you to sign them.” I stood up and went for the door. Before I could escape the scene that unfold, Liam spoke up.

“I’ll fight for you. Remember that.” was the last thing he said before I left the room, crying.

Come with me? - Jughead x Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my first fic to Riverdale, I hope you like it. Please give me some Feedback :)

Summary: You and Jughead are best friends, when he goes to talk to his Dad, he asks you to come with him. Afterwards you tell him your feelings.

You sat in the student lounge, when Jughead came in and waved you over to him.
“Hey Juggie, whats up?” You smiled at him. He frowned a bit and gently pulled you outside in the hallway. “I have to tell you something, can we go somewhere a bit more quiet?” you nodded and while you walked to a bench behind the school, you glanced at him worriedly. He looked tired, his eyes were downcast in an attempt to hide his emotions.
You sat down and waited for him to talk. You knew he always takes his time when he tells you something important and you respected that.
When he started to speak his voice was quiet, like he was embaressed of what he had to explain to you.
“Fred Andrews fired my Dad some time ago because he started to drink and made business with the wrong people. So my Mom took Jellybean and moved to my grandparents.” He let out a shaky breath. “I coudn’t live there any more, so I moved to the Drive-In. Now that they closed it, I live under the staircase in school.” he confessed.
You gasped. “Jughead! Why didn’t you tell me? I could have talked to my parents, I’m sure they would’ve invited you to live in our guest room.” The raven haired boy looked at you shyly. “I thought you already had your own shit to deal with. I mean I know that Polly and Betty were your best friends. And that you and Betty helped each other through it.” He let his head fall down again.
“Juggie…” You hugged him tightly and whispered: “Don’t ever think that again, okay? I’m your best friend, I will always be there for you, do you hear that?”
He responded by holding on to you stronger. “Thank you y/n.” He let go of you and looked in your eyes. “That isn’t everything though. Archie asked his Dad to give mine another chance. But he thinks that he won’t take it, if I don’t talk to him.” He sighed, before he continued: “I haven’t been home since I moved to the Drive-In. I don’t want to go there alone… Would you maybe come with me?” Your best friend glanced at you with a hopefull expression.
You lightly stroked his back. “Of course I’ll come with you, Juggie. We could go there right after school. What do you think?”
He nodded. “Yeah… thank you y/n, really.”

As soon as school was out, you and Jughead made your way to his home. When the trailer came in sight you noticed Jughead was shaking slightly, so you took his hand and squeezed it a little. He gave you a small smile in return. He hesitated a second before he opened the door and walked in. You followed him slowly.
Inside it was shady and messy. You saw various beer bottles and other alcoholic drinks, on the table and also on the floor were cigarette butts and a few mugs as ashtrays. The air smelled like cold smoke, it left you coughing a bit.
You heard heavy footsteps making it’s way towards Jughead and you. His Father looked like he had a few beers to much. He was struggling to walk straight and when he saw you two he stopped, almost tripping.
“The lost son returns…” He said to Jughead, who looked ashamed of his Father and the mess he lived in.
“How you doin’?” his Dad asked.
Jughead mumbled: “Hanging in there.”
“Yeah me too.” His Father put the bottle he was holding in one of the cupboards. “Is this your girlfriend?”
You shook your head. “Uhm… no Sir, I’m y/n. It’s been a while since we last met. Jug and I are just friends.” You didn’t show how it hurt you to say that. You always wanted your relationship to be more than best friends, but you never mentioned it to anyone.
“Yeah, sure. I remember. You go to school together.” Mr. Jones said to himself.
Jughead scrached his neck nervously. “Actually Dad, I came by to ask, i-if you would consider going back to work with Fred Andrews.”
You studied Mr. Jones expectantly. “Yeah, he called me, I said no.” You sighed quietly.
Jugheads shoulders dropped.
“He fired me Jughead.” His father continued. “What kind of man would I be if I went back hat in hand?”
You could sense that Jughead was getting mad. “For starters? A man with a job, trying to fix this family?”
Mr. Jones scoffed. “Talk to your Mom. She’s the one who gave up on us… took your sister.” He turned around to leave the room.
You took a step towards Jughead, who tried to stay calm. “Can you please just go to see Mr. Andrews? He is willing to give you another chance.”
With a bitter laugh Mr. Jones turned around to face his son again. “He’s willing… huh? After all the crap he pulled on me!” With that he walked over to sit in a chair.
Jughead rolled his eyes, before following him. “Dad, do you want to see our family back together?” You gently rubbed his arm to comfort him. “Mom and Jellybean could come home, I could come home too.” He took a last glance at his Dad. “It’s not to late.”
With that he opend the front door and walked out of the trailer. You muttered a quick goodbye before following him and closing the door behind you. Jughead stood there rubbing his face. “I hope he listened to me y/n.”
“I think he did, Juggie. I believe he will at least try.” You lifted his chin so that he could see the faith in your eyes. “You showed him that you still care about him. Now it is his turn and he knows that.”
Jughead put his hand over yours. “Thank you y/n, I don’t think I could have done this without you.” To your surprise he bent down to place a light kiss on your cheek. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach explode with joy and you immediatly blushed.
To hide it you quickly took his hand and dragged him towards the direction of your house. “You will be sleeping in our guest room for tonight. And tomorrow we’re gonna take your stuff from under the staircase to your new home. No ifs, no buts!”
“Okay, okay, I understand.” Jughead giggled.

It was almost midnight. You and Jughead sat together on your bed and watched an old film. Except you didn’t really watch the film, but you stole side glances at Jughead.
“Hey y/n what are you looking at? Hm? Have I something in my face?” He suddenly laughed.
‘Oh crap, he noticed…’ you thought.
“Uhm, no nothing I was just thinking that… you know, it was very brave of you, the way you talked to your Dad today. Not many would give him another chance. But you did.”
“I’m not giving up on him.” Jughead smiled sadly. “Not yet.” he added.
That was what you liked so much about Jughead. He was always so kind and caring.
You just sat there looking into each others eyes, when you pulled all your courgage together to finally say the words that were always present when you were with him.
“I love you, Juggie.”
His eyes opened widely at your confession and you were about to say something to take back what you said, because you were afraid you just ruined your friendship, when Jughead cupped your face and let his lips collied with yours.
You closed your eyes and deepened the kiss by slowly opening your mouth to allow his tongue in. It was a slow and shy, yet passionate kiss. You laid all your love in this kiss to show him how much he is wanted.
When you pulled away, you were both out of breath, but had the biggest smile on your faces.
Jughead looked at you with a loving expression.
“I love you too, y/n.”