Charles finally came into the world today.
He’s perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes, a head full of his father’s hair and bright blue eyes, just like D promised.
He’s healthy, too. Or as healthy as a newborn can be, I suppose. He’s got a good appetite and a good set of lungs, too.
The scar’s there, of course, but it’s healed up by now and D assured me he’s perfectly fine.
It’s a little odd, that he’ll have this one other association to me. I don’t mention it, but sometimes I tend to forget that I wasn’t born scarred; they’re such a part of me now that it’s hard to remember ever having a life without them. Without Him. And now our little Golden Boy will always bear his own mark from his father. One that was meant to heal, not to harm.
I’m happy for that.
He squirmed when I traced the line and I couldn’t help but laugh, even when I felt like crying.
—
He’s sleeping now. I haven’t left the nursery all day so of course D’s a bit put out - I think the novelty might’ve worn off a bit after the first few hours without little Charles showing off some miracle genius prowess - but I can’t pull myself away.
He’s so precious. It’s a miracle that he exists and that’s more than enough for me.
He’s so damn small. He’s barely twice as big as my hand and he weighs nothing.
I still can’t wrap my head around it, honestly.
—
I can’t stop touching him. Reaching out to check that he’s there, making sure he’s warm enough, that he’s breathing okay. His hair is even softer than Devon’s, which I honestly didn’t think was humanly possible. He shifts his head into the touch already.
Is that normal? I’ll have to ask someone.
Maybe I’m just imagining it.
But I know I’m not imagining the sounds he makes when he stirs in his sleep, the jolt I feel when suddenly he’s awake, his eyes wide open and staring without focusing.
D tells me that he’ll learn at an accelerated rate, like He did, right from the start. That he’ll advance a lot faster than ‘normal.’ I have to wonder how fast he’ll start to recognize us, when he’ll turn those baby blues on us and smile cause he knows who we are.
I’ve learned that usually, that can happen as early as three weeks. So I’m more than a little curious.
But I’m patient, too. I don’t want to rush anything.
—
He’s a lot quieter than I expected.
And still, somehow, that doesn’t really surprise me much when I let myself think about it.
—
God, he’s amazing, though.
I didn’t want to put him down, once D handed him off to me. He’s warm and even though he weighs damn near nothing, I feel him like a weight in my chest. It’s a lot like what I feel for D, that ache that always, always feels like it’ll smother me completely one of these days.
I still don’t mind.
I love Him. I love them.
—
I’m pretty sure He saw the tears earlier, but for once, He didn’t ask about it.
Probably because I was smiling so much that my face still hurts, hours later.
I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to leave this room. I don’t want to be away from either of them. They’re both so frail and vulnerable and fragile. They need me.
God, I thought I was overprotective of Devon…
And now we’re… a family. I have a family.
—
And here I go, crying all over again.

Charles finally came into the world today.

He’s perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes, a head full of his father’s hair and bright blue eyes, just like D promised.

He’s healthy, too. Or as healthy as a newborn can be, I suppose. He’s got a good appetite and a good set of lungs, too.

The scar’s there, of course, but it’s healed up by now and D assured me he’s perfectly fine.

It’s a little odd, that he’ll have this one other association to me. I don’t mention it, but sometimes I tend to forget that I wasn’t born scarred; they’re such a part of me now that it’s hard to remember ever having a life without them. Without Him. And now our little Golden Boy will always bear his own mark from his father. One that was meant to heal, not to harm.

I’m happy for that.

He squirmed when I traced the line and I couldn’t help but laugh, even when I felt like crying.

He’s sleeping now. I haven’t left the nursery all day so of course D’s a bit put out - I think the novelty might’ve worn off a bit after the first few hours without little Charles showing off some miracle genius prowess - but I can’t pull myself away.

He’s so precious. It’s a miracle that he exists and that’s more than enough for me.

He’s so damn small. He’s barely twice as big as my hand and he weighs nothing.

I still can’t wrap my head around it, honestly.

I can’t stop touching him. Reaching out to check that he’s there, making sure he’s warm enough, that he’s breathing okay. His hair is even softer than Devon’s, which I honestly didn’t think was humanly possible. He shifts his head into the touch already.

Is that normal? I’ll have to ask someone.

Maybe I’m just imagining it.

But I know I’m not imagining the sounds he makes when he stirs in his sleep, the jolt I feel when suddenly he’s awake, his eyes wide open and staring without focusing.

D tells me that he’ll learn at an accelerated rate, like He did, right from the start. That he’ll advance a lot faster than ‘normal.’ I have to wonder how fast he’ll start to recognize us, when he’ll turn those baby blues on us and smile cause he knows who we are.

I’ve learned that usually, that can happen as early as three weeks. So I’m more than a little curious.

But I’m patient, too. I don’t want to rush anything.

He’s a lot quieter than I expected.

And still, somehow, that doesn’t really surprise me much when I let myself think about it.

God, he’s amazing, though.

I didn’t want to put him down, once D handed him off to me. He’s warm and even though he weighs damn near nothing, I feel him like a weight in my chest. It’s a lot like what I feel for D, that ache that always, always feels like it’ll smother me completely one of these days.

I still don’t mind.

I love Him. I love them.

I’m pretty sure He saw the tears earlier, but for once, He didn’t ask about it.

Probably because I was smiling so much that my face still hurts, hours later.

I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to leave this room. I don’t want to be away from either of them. They’re both so frail and vulnerable and fragile. They need me.

God, I thought I was overprotective of Devon

And now we’re… a family. I have a family.

And here I go, crying all over again.

gunrunnerhell:

“There is a difference between hitting your target and stopping your target.” - Unknown

gunrunnerhell:

There is a difference between hitting your target and stopping your target.” - Unknown

theonetruenators:

atotorakku:

lolsofunny:

if you’re about to die, might as well try.

YO

oh shit
he puts his hands up like he’s pleading and catches the guy completely off guard. i mean. he’s got a gun. guy’s on his knees. he feels totally safe and in control of the situation. then the guys hands are right next to the gun and he surprises him and immediately tilts the weapon up and away from him and yanks the arm down while thrusting his legs forward to kneecap the guy and manages to wrench the gun away
so shit now the second guy is on the ground with probably a broken knee and no gun and the first guy has the weapon and is fucking free and clear remember this me you need to remember this

theonetruenators:

atotorakku:

lolsofunny:

if you’re about to die, might as well try.

YO

oh shit

he puts his hands up like he’s pleading and catches the guy completely off guard. i mean. he’s got a gun. guy’s on his knees. he feels totally safe and in control of the situation. then the guys hands are right next to the gun and he surprises him and immediately tilts the weapon up and away from him and yanks the arm down while thrusting his legs forward to kneecap the guy and manages to wrench the gun away

so shit now the second guy is on the ground with probably a broken knee and no gun and the first guy has the weapon and is fucking free and clear remember this me you need to remember this

"But surely love wouldn’t get so much talked about if there were not something in it?"

Elizabeth Bowen, The Last September

"I didn’t get lost in you, I fucking drowned."

(via siameasy)

Sums it up.
I like it all.

(via captte)