Calypso is a vibrant, tropical town that I fell in love with as soon as I opened my eyes in-dream. I absolutely love how the town was laid out and all the pathways took me somewhere new and exciting! Can’t wait to dream of it again~~
Yo blue im on a super duper important quest to find really good lance centric fics, you know, that high quality top shelf kinda stuff. ive already read ur fic but im lookin for more. Got any recs????????
hey there, friend, you came to the right place! sorry this took so long, I made this whole post and then my computer was being difficult and I lost the whole thing, so this is the second time I’m making it! thank you so much for reading when I dream it happens in blue.I’ve got some great new content on the way, but in the meantime, here are some great reads to hold you over!
<<please check ratings and tags, and all of these are a mixture of ratings and subject matter, so please check and read only what’s best for you!>>
After a terrifying experience during which Lance, seemingly, dies, Keith is haunted by horrible nightmares of holding his comrade in his arms while he took his final breath. To the point where he can’t sleep unless he knows for absolute certain that Lance is alive.
And while the attention is surprising, Lance doesn’t really have a problem with Keith checking up on him. Or the fact that Keith only seems totally comforted when he can cuddle Lance close and hear his heart beat. After all, there’s nothing wrong with two bros cuddling. It doesn’t MEAN anything. Or, at least, that’s what Lance keeps telling himself.
Lance used to be proud of his mental abilities. A pilot. A Paladin. Someone experienced with delving and controlling his mind. But after being captured, and enduring just a single encounter with Haggar, his castle was reduced to rubble.
Rescuing Lance was the easy part - healing him is much, much harder.
After a Galra attack splits Voltron, the blue lion is damaged and falls toward the jungle planet below. Shiro follows, and now he and Lance are stranded in hostile territory, fighting to survive. Lance is injured, Shiro is having flashbacks, and help is far away. And the Galra just…keep coming.
Keith is a witch who owns a shop where he breaks curses on both magical items and people under spells. Love spells, family curses passed down generations, cursed heirlooms lurking the attic – he can handle them all. But one day a boy named Lance walks into his shop, and his curse is darker and more difficult to break than anything Keith has ever seen before: the curse is draining his magic, and without his magic, Lance will die.
“Humans have shown quite the impressive drive for survival,” the Galra commander grins. “I want to see you fight against that. The druids claim drowning is quite the painful way to go.“ He tips Lance backward over the water, as Keith and Shiro struggle against their bonds. “If you surface, they die.”
Lance’s eyes widen and he’s pushed backward with a splash.
Keith, Shiro, and Lance are taken captive during a mission planet-side. The commander decides he only needs two paladins for interrogation, and decides to have a little fun while they wait for extraction. Lance is thrown into the deep with the threat that if he swims up for air, one of the other two will be shot. Obviously Lance would rather die than allow that.
Later chapters will, of course, deal with Keith and Shiro losing their damn minds thinking Lance just drowned himself for them.
When Lance is thrown through time, his future self from one year ahead is transported to the past in his place.
This Lance is faster, stronger, and markedly more mature. Not only that, but he’s distinctly more intuitive about his teammates and A LOT more touchy with Keith.
The team must try and work out how to reverse the two Lance’s places and restore them to their original timelines. Things only get more complicated when the Future Lance can’t seem to remember where he was when the switch happened, and he refuses to reveal anything about his own time for fear of influencing the team’s decisions.
Mirror fic to “Shadow of the Past” by wittyy_name
When Lance is thrown through time, he finds himself one year in the future, in place of the Lance that should be here.
He finds his team to be remarkably familiar, yet distinctly different. They have more scars, a better grip on the whole saving the universe thing, and over a year’s worth of teamwork to bind them together. But the weirdest part? Keith seems to be a lot more touchy with him. Not that he’s complaining… much.
The team must try and work out how to reverse the two Lance’s places and restore them to their original timelines. But despite the fact that they’re still his friends, Lance can’t help but feel a little out of place among a team that’s been through so much with a Lance that just isn’t him. And it doesn’t help that the team is on edge around him, refusing to tell him anything for fear of influencing and changing the past. Things get even more complicated when they have to rely on the team in the past to complete the switch, leaving Lance to little more than sit, wait, and attempt to fill in his future self’s shoes. ___________
So typical. So fucking typical, that Lance is the youngest and worst of his siblings, and then the kids come along and he isn’t even the cutest anymore, and he only made fighter pilot because perfect fucking Keith dropped out and even when he piloted a lion he didn’t have a thing like the others, and now he can’t even have Blue. Maybe he was the one to suggest it, but he was barrelling towards this point all along; rock fucking bottom.
When it becomes clear that Allura is a better pilot than him, Lance steps down as the Blue Paladin. It is, after all, the obvious decision. Lance is, and has always been, the afterthought.
One week after news of the Kerberos disaster broke, Pidge receives a new Mark–proof that Matt is still alive. She breaks into the Garrison to find him, only to find herself caught up in the fight for the fate of the universe.
Keith keeps his arms covered so he doesn’t have to watch Shiro’s scars compounding on his skin–but doing so means cutting off contact with his romantic soulmate, who greets him each morning with a new (and terrible) pickup line.
Shiro and Matt thought they were the luckiest people alive when they found out they were going to Kerberos together. But Shiro hasn’t seen Matt’s untidy scrawl on his arm in almost a year, and he has no idea if his soulmate is even still alive.
[Canonverse Soulmate AU with romantic and platonic soulmates (and some gray areas in between)]
After growing up in the shadow of war, Prince Lance of Altea would give almost anything to bring peace back to his people. So when a Galran ambassador arrives with an offer to make that a reality, Lance knows he can’t refuse. Even if it means binding himself to his enemy’s prince for as long as they both shall live.
When a cryopod malfunctions, Lance is left with amnesia. As he struggles to figure out where he fits in the new formation of the team, the rest of Voltron is racing against the clock to figure out where Lotor will strike next- and their only clue is hidden somewhere in Lance’s lost memories. Lance will have to find a way to remember what he’s missing- or come to terms with what he’s forgotten.
A mission gone wrong lands Lance and Pidge in a dangerous situation. When communication with the rest of the team is compromised, they have to take drastic measures to escape. Pidge can only hope that they get out before things get worse and one of them breaks. Especially Lance.
Lance experiences loss, in all its ugly faces, for the first time after beginning his journey as a Paladin and discovers just how that changes a person over time. It…doesn’t happen the way he expected. The people around him begin to change, and so does he.
Alfor, Zarkon, Trigel, Gyrgan, and Blaytz set off on missions across the galaxy to gather pieces of an artifact so Alfor can complete Voltron.
Zarkon encounters a human boy with a missing arm fighting as a gladiator. Trigel encounters an enslaved young human girl whose genius is being exploited. Gyrgan encounters a human boy who disabled a pirate ship he and his people had been chasing. King Alfor encounters a young half-galra boy who aids the king and Coran when they are cornered by bandits. Blaytz encounters an Altean boy enslaved on a slave trading planet.
Each ally feels compelled to rescue and adopt the orphans they encounter, setting the wheels of fate into motion.
While each child carries the scars of their past, they form bonds too strong to ever be broken. They will find friendship and family with each other, and maybe love, even as events threaten everything they know and care for.
Sometimes Lance feels like he’s been stained blue, the colour of his lion seeping through his skin as he chokes on cold stardust, and he is drowning in waves of blue, blue ocean. Lance has never been afraid of the ocean before.
He rolls over and turns off the lights. He doesn’t sleep.
Shiro couldn’t find Lance. He knew he was in danger after his communications ended abruptly. But he certainly wasn’t prepared to find Lance dying on the floor of a Galra base during one their missions.
A mind-melding exercise goes wrong, and the five Paladins are now trapped in Lance’s mind. To escape, they must delve through Lance’s memories. Lance learns that in order to save his friends, he has to stop running. But to stop running means to face the worst of himself.
what brush/technique did you use to paint your american gods portrait? it looks a lot softer than your usual art
it’s neat, right!? it’s been a learning curve, but i’ve had a rough time achieving that soft/surreal look
as of just now i’m calling the technique i’ve been using “less is more”
usually i tend to go a bit ham on detail and texture, which makes them take a lot more time than i’m willing to put forth recently get ready for some EXTREME CLOSEUPS:
i use hatching to blend the colors, which gives it a sharper finish. with the american gods portraits, however,
it’s almost a muddier look up close, but there’s a lot less detail. it’s almost like it’s blurier because i stopped rendering! both pieces are done on huge canvases and with the exact same brush. but i did experiment with brush use a little with media, because she has softer features in general, so the fluctuations i made with her were related to brush hardness:
Tell her to get lost. Unfriend and block her on social media. Don’t answer any texts, and block her number too. Uraraka is smart. She’ll get the message. And when the sting of rejection subsides, she’ll move on to someone else. Someone more suitable, someone more deserving. In the end, Uraraka will still be happy.
Bakugou is doing her a favor. If Uraraka never speaks to him again, that’s what he deserves for being dumb enough to catch feelings in the first place.
On the way out of class, Kirishima puts a hand on his shoulder. “So, gym? Or video games? Or gym and video games?”
Bakugou calculates. Uraraka tends to go to the gym around this time, and this whole avoidance thing won’t work if they keep running into each other. But then he catches her in the corner of his eye heading to the dorms herself–his eyes had a nasty habit of following her of their own accord–and realizes that the gym is the better option after all. He wonders how long he’ll have to tiptoe through his own life before it gets easier.
“Gym first,” Bakugou says. “Maybe video games after.”
“Are you ok, man?” Kirishima asks. “You’re kind of broody today. Like, Todoroki-level broody.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Heh, there’s a Bakugou I know.”
Once they get there, Bakugou makes a beeline for the bikes. Spinning is great cardio, but it’s also one of the few activities that lets Bakugou’s mind wander. As his legs start pedaling, he zones out to think about how this whole Uraraka situation went to shit so fast.
Stay. I know it’s probably the wrong thing to do.
You and I have gone dark, we’re dead in the water,
and all we ever seem to do anymore is dream up
new, despicable ways to hurt each other.
Look, I’m under no illusions. I know this is the end
of the line for us. The damage has been done,
we’ve fallen too far. But for a few more moments,
do you think we could just forget all that?
Do you think we could dim the lights a little and lay here,
together, one last time? After all, we have the rest of
our lives to become strangers, to forget each other’s names,
to slowly fall apart. Please. Stay. Let’s be stupid and
irresponsible. Oh, can’t we? Tomorrow’s another day,
let’s worry about it then. Curl up into me my love.
Let me hold you. Stay. Just stay a little longer.
Summary: Louis wasn’t completely sure that they were on May 22nd, he would’ve bet this was an April’s Fool joke. He couldn’t believe all these important people were seriously proposing he should appear on the cover of fucking Vogue magazine. He wasn’t alone, it seemed like Lottie was about to faint right next to him. He stared at each and every face in front of him, and they weren’t smiling, so this had to be a serious proposal. Actually, there was one face smiling - Harry’s. The fucker was smirking. Louis didn’t like him anymore.
Or the one where Louis finds himself modeling for Vogue Magazine next to hot top model Harry Styles and faking a relationship with him for the public, finding along the way more than a new way of life
Summary: Harry’s one of Hollywood’s biggest actors, has made a name for himself in prestigious films and lives the life of a superstar. There’s just one thing missing to make it picture-perfect, but the one Harry’s in love with is completely out of reach for him. Enter Louis, one of Hollywood’s biggest actors himself, who just came out of the closet and taps new genres in the industry. When Louis sacks the role Harry auditioned for in Scorsese’s next big film, their irrational feud starts. Who could have guessed it would get even worse when for promo season, their teams decide to present them as a couple for publicity?
In short, Harry’s in love with someone and doesn’t care about dating anyone else, Louis never felt home in L.A., Liam writes love songs for someone he shouldn’t write love songs to, and Niall makes everything better with good food.
I told them I had a kid so I could leave early ‘to pick him up from day care’, to take him to doctors appointments and occasionally miss a day ‘when he’s sick’. Long story short – I’m in too deep. I didn’t think this through.
Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy aged 4 to 6 with curly hair who plays soccer, essentially he has to look like the stock photo in the frame on my desk. Also must be artistic as the macaroni noodle drawings I made seem a little advanced for someone his age. He also needs to respond to 'my Little Picasso’ as that’s what my spouse and I call him. Also I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of my spouse when dropping him off. His name is James, he’s named after his grandpa and he’s a defense attorney who often brings his work home.
You know what, just message me for the details, serious inquiries only. H.“
Or, the AU based off of that one Craigslist post - how a little white lie takes on an enormous snowball effect, that might accidentally include a Tomlinson too.
Summary: Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.
A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.
Summary: “I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”
Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones.
Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.
Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.
Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.
“You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”
Summary: Louis is apparently the only person at his new job who is single as can be. It’s not a big deal to just tell his new colleagues that he has a boyfriend, right? Until he has to make this imaginary boyfriend magically appear at the office holiday party. Cue fake relationship antics with a certain someone who is more than willing to play along.
Summary: Harry could barely breathe at even the possibility of getting to be Louis Tomlinson’s fake boyfriend. Louis was his favorite actor since childhood, when Louis was also a child on the big screen. The guy he had always looked up to. The guy whose poster he used to kiss every night before bed. The guy whose movies Harry would watch all night until his eyes couldn’t possibly stay open anymore. Harry was pretty sure Louis Tomlinson wasn’t even real—he couldn’t be.
or the fake relationship au where Harry is an aspiring musician and also Louis’ biggest fan–until he actually meets him.
Anticipating the next chapter of the artist series!!! 😍
Mod Note: If anyone can remind me which fic this is, I’d be very grateful. Until then, have some more CoC.
Chain of Command: Part 5.
Claire traced the pattern on the rough table, trying to avoid making eye contact with Mama Crook who –with a very motherly stare– was keeping council with her in the privacy of the downstairs study.
“Who, Claire, ye need to tell me, aye?”
Dipping her head closer to the wooden hardtop, Claire tried to contain the butterflies that were forming in her belly.
She shook her head.
“Did he force ye? You can tell me. Ye *ken* me, Claire…”
For six months she’d managed to conceal the child, using rags to hold her belly flat under her skirts after her failed ‘escape’ attempt. But in a moment of weakness, she’d snuck away from her duties, undone her bindings - just as her baby began to move within her - and just sat with her palms cradled over the unborn babe.
Mrs Crook watched her sneak away and had followed, curious as to why Claire had been so withheld recently. Pushing the door open, she viewed Claire with a sort of awed-wonder as the lass stripped down and sat cross legged on the floor, cradling her extended belly with such peaceful reverence.
Claire shook her head again, keeping the identity of her secret lover concealed.
Huffing out an audible sigh, Mrs Crook dropped her joined hands onto the tabletop, her patience wearing thin as the minutes ticked by.
“Claire, ye need t-”
Opening the door, Brian plowed into the small room a large smile on his face as he viewed the two women, “Mrs Crook! I need some…” his words trailed off as he took in the tense scene in front of him, his smile faltering as he caught the sweep of Claire’s belly beneath her thin dress.
“Mary, mother and bride,” he cursed, pulling a chair beside Mrs Crook as his weight fell into the seat with a solid thump.
“Dinna ask me who, sir,” she sighed in defeat, “I canna get her t’ tell me who’s fathered the bairn.”
Holding his hand up to Mrs Crook a look of understanding crossed Brian Fraser’s face as he placed his large palm over Claire’s joined ones. “Claire, lassie, who?”
Remaining stoic, Claire pressed her lips together, Brian’s familiar blue eyes piercing her armour as she tried to stay quiet. “You’ll send me away, so what does it matter if you know?” She questioned, her voice stable for the moment as her fingers twitched where they lay beneath his.
No matter what, she wasn’t from their world. Whether she told him the truth or not, she would not be allowed to raise her baby the way she’d dreamed since discovering her new circumstances.
“Ach! It *does* matter, Claire,” Brian whispered, his hard stare holding some unspoken emotion that Claire couldn’t place, “especially if it’s someone who hurt ye! And we willna send ye away, why would ye think such a thing?”
Hiding her head beneath her curls, Claire pulled her eyes away.
“Is that the reason fer *Inverness*?” Brian whispered, sensing her crumbling resolve he changed tack, his palms rubbing soothing circles over Claire’s clammy hands.
Claire’s cheeks pinked but she remained quiet.
“Did I ever tell ye,” he began, a wistful reverence in his tone, “about my mother, Claire?”
Bringing her head up, Claire studiously ignored Mama Crook as her eyes locked with Brian’s once more. Shaking her head, she licked her lips as unshed tears welled in her eyes. “No,” she replied, the hunched set of her shoulders relaxing a little as she settled to listen to his tale.
Seeing her calm, Brian’s mouth twitched upwards as he continued. He had an idea, of course, as to why Claire was being so coy about her tryst. But he wanted her to tell him the truth of it without having to force the information from her. He knew that this story was likely the only thing to break down the walls which she’d built around her wee secret.
“Ye already ken Jamie and Jenny’s grand-sire, aye?” He forged ahead, waiting only briefly for Claire’s nod in between words, “weel, he met my ma in a rather unconventional position…”
Sitting on the guest bed, Claire shifted her weight. The mattress was incredibly comfortable but she just couldn’t seem to relax. Despite his best efforts, Brian had been unable to coax the identity of Claire’s mystery suitor from her. She very nearly cracked after hearing his story but the more rational part of her saw through his attempts to prize the information from her. In the end, the story saw Brian’s mother raise him alone - without the help of Simon Fraser. Only in guilt had the man gifted Lallybroch to Brian and Claire could only see the same fate for herself and the baby. Why bring Jamie’s reputation into disrepute? She’d rather continue to conceal it in the hopes that Jamie wouldn’t feel the need to claim ownership of her unborn once he discovered her secret.
She’d come this far, already in too deep, Claire -as stubborn as she was- had chosen her path.
Ellen clicked the door open, pushing the thick wood slowly so as not to spook Claire. She had returned home to find Brian with his head in his hands and and empty dram of whisky drained on the table in front of him.
He’d only to say two words and Ellen knew it all.
With the words still echoing around her head as she snuck into the bedchamber.
“Claire?” She questioned quietly, reaching her hand out to run over the young lassie’s hair as she tried to hide her eyes from Ellen. “Ye ken what you mean to me, to us…” she began, her hands trembling a little as she tried to quash Claire’s misgivings. “I wouldna be here today if it wasne for you.”
“I’m so sorry, Ellen,” Claire blurted, her emotions boiling over at Ellen’s motherly touch.
“What is there to be sorry for, a leannan? I dinna think there is anything ye need apologise for. But we canna do more until you tell us…tell me, Claire…” she pleaded, “please?”
When Claire still refused to speak, she tried one last thing. Wrapping her arm around Claire’s shaking shoulders, she brought her against her chest. “Ye ken how strong our Scottish blood is, Claire,” she whispered, “tell us and we can assure you both safety and protection before the bairn arrives. Do you want to be a family?”
The question was supposed to be rhetorical, but Ellen did not, and had never believed in the impossibility of any situation.
“You’ll send me away once you know,” she spoke repeating the same worry to Ellen as she had to Brian, her voice muffled as she burrowed deeper into the wool of her shawl. “Or take my baby away from me. Why yearn for something I can never have?”
“This has to be your choice, Claire. I canna force yer honesty. But I will strive to help you in any possible way. And we would *ne’er* remove your child from ye.” That particular statement and cut Ellen deep - for Claire to assume that either her or Brian would punish her so severely made her heart ache.
Taking Claire’s hand in her own, Ellen first ran their joined palms over Claire’s belly and then raised them to place over her own heart. “Trust in us, Claire. We will see ye safe.”
Closing her eyes tight, Claire felt the steady beat of Ellen’s heart and swallowed. “I should have told him first,” Claire sighed, tears falling down her cheeks as she opened her eyes again, staring directly at Ellen as she tried to convey meaning with simply a look. “W-will you tell him I’m sorry for it…?”
Padding downstairs, Ellen huffed out a rather large breath as she pressed herself to Brian’s side.
“How is she?” He asked, eager to know if his clever wife had managed to wrangle the truth from Claire.
“Scared still,” Ellen sighed. “She thinks she’s alone.”
“Have ye managed to convince her that view is supremely foolish?” Brian chuckled worriedly.
If anyone could do it, Ellen could. After Jamie, Ellen was the Fraser with whom Claire had the strongest bond.
“What’s amiss, Mam?” Jamie piped up, his voice echoing through the almost-silent room. Brian and Ellen’s eye rose to meet his immediately. They’d been so deep in thought that neither had seen or heard their youngest enter until he’d made himself known.
“Son,” Ellen coaxed, patting the sofa next to her as she spoke, “before I tell ye, I think we need a wee chat, aye?”
Sitting with some trepidation, Jamie perched on the end of the seat with his fingers strumming out a nervous rhythm against his bare knees. “It’s Claire, isn’t it?” He broached, unaware of her current predicament. She had been off-colour for a while, avoiding him completely in recent weeks. He’d been busy though, which had made giving her space easier.
Brian took Ellen’s hand, watching as Jamie’s gaze flittered restlessly between them both. After Willie had been taken, sickness in the house always came with some manner of trepidation.
“Jamie,” Ellen began, her eyes serious as she clutched Brian’s hand tightly, “Claire’s pregnant.”
Steeling himself, Jamie wrung his hands together as he stood outside the guest bedroom door. The distinct sound of sobbing filtered under the door and his heart shattered at the idea of Claire suffering alone for all this time, afraid and unable to come to him with her news.
*Promised*, his mother had told him. She’d spent most of their romantic time together thinking their actions to be illicit - all because of some misconceived notion that he was to wed another.
In a moment of weakness as a child, his grief at losing his brother consuming him inside and out, he’d made a promise to his father. Claire had been his beacon. His shining light. And no matter how she saw herself, he saw the treasure she truly was. In those dire days he had promised Brian that one day Claire would be his bride - no matter what.
Brian, it seemed, had taken him at his word to this day. The rumours that had been spilt throughout Broch Tuarach had not been wrong, he was permanently entangled with someone whom he loved greatly. But since the name of the lucky lassie had been conveniently omitted - to allow Jamie the chance to woo his intended properly - Claire had only heard a partial truth.
She’d craved Jamie, labouring under the assumption that sometime soon he’d be betrothed to another woman.
Suddenly her downtrodden mood over Laoghaire became clear to him as the mist evaporated before his eyes.
Cursing his foolishness, Jamie berated himself for the lack of clarity on his behalf. This mess would not have occurred had he cleared Claire’s misconceptions. Had he not allowed her to block his every attempt at making his position clear to her, they would *not* be in this situation now.
Opening the door, he walked across the wood paneled floor and knelt beside the cushioned four poster bed.
“Why, Claire?” He muttered, taking hold of her frozen hands as he began to kiss her frigid digits. “Why did ye spend all this time thinking yerself no’ fit for me?”
Stunned, Claire remained silent. She’d expected the ‘why’. After all, Jamie was loyal to a fault. To think that he’d missed the chance to resolve this mess earlier would have certainly had him in knots. But she hadn’t expected latter part of his statement.
Ellen’s calming influence earlier had worked. Within moments of their unusual mother/daughter-like conversation beginning she’d broken, sobbing relentlessly as she hiccuped through her sorry tale.
“Because I’m not, Jamie. You’re the Laird Broch Tuarach… and I’m plain Claire, nothing more.”
“No!” Jamie cried, tears slipping from his eyes as he leaned forwards, pressing his forehead gently against hers, “dinna you ever say that, Claire!” He castigated, his patience at the depredation of her self-worth depleting.
“It’s you, mo nighean donn. It’s always been you! Can’t you see?” He begged, pleaded, his tone reverent and true as he grasped her tightly.
“All of those years ago, I pledged myself to ye. My body, my heart…everything. I told da. So yes, I am promised. I was *always* promised…but to you, Claire.”
Fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks now as she dragged in a ragged breath, relief and sorrow coursing through her veins as she hurled herself from the bed and into Jamie’s waiting arms.
“Oh, Jamie,” she spluttered, gripping onto his shirt so tightly that she almost tore into the fabric, “I l-love you…God how I love you.”
“Then you’ll have me?” He whispered, his lips caressing her ear slowly as he pressed his flat belly against her round one, the feel of his child between them emboldening his words by touch alone. “Because, Christ, Claire, if I don’t love ye too. I always have…”
Loud House Request are still open guys Q . Q. request me….please
SIDE NOTE: BTW guys, if you see a person with the name endraa faving your stuff. That’s me. This is actually a secondary blog because I didn’t feel like making a new account. I don’t post anything on my endraa blog anymore for art, but I still fav and follow people since secondary blogs cannot OTL. Endifi is what I mainly use now. You don’t need to follow my main blog. I’m on endifi forever. XD Just a heads up! Thank you for the support. <3